#especially the dialogues n stuff

[virtualdimensionsss]

finally reading (listening) to p&p and im finally understanding why people like it so much

its actually so funny like. elizabeth being ✨in agonies✨ cos of her family being embarassing in public is like. damn girl me too. some things never change huh.

[kumakuma-circus]

i love being a writer.

[squuote]

I wanna make a whole list of different traits n facts bout the narrator cause like dude just says so much random shit and mentions so many tiny things bout himself it’s great. like I didn’t think about it much before while playing but just listening to audio clips n stuff has me noticing it a lot more

[deityofhearts]

I just need to get better at remembering that I have so many wonderful friends who love me and want me in their lives who I also love and want in my life which is easier said than done because even with all the reassurance in the world it’s easy to think it’s not true or dwell on past failed relationships as like being indicative of my current ones

[mikrokosmcs]

Siempre  que  ve  asesinos  seriales  relacionados  con  cerdos,  sabe  exactamente  a  donde  va  la  trama.  Yikes,  pero  no  puede  dejar  de  verlo.

[angelyuji]

ford pines dating headcanons

18+!!! minors dni!!

cw // sexual content under the cut

cutie patootie

FIT AS FUCKKKKK

writes about you in his journal like first time he sees you, first date, every single thought about you? journaled!!

he wanted to ask you out but he was sooo nervous you would reject him, especially considering how young and pretty you are

he was scared you would laugh at him for trying

so he didn’t try :(

so when you showed up at the mystery shack and asked him out to dinner, he would’ve jumped for joy

“you-you’re asking me? on a date?” ford stares at you, mouth open. you tilt your head in confusion and ford almost melts. he clears his throat, “i-i would love to, (y/n). thank you.” ford blushes.

your first date was cute, he was so flustered and so nervous

i feel like he calls you by your name, sometimes by your last name, sometimes like ms/mr. last name. idk he’s silly like that

HE loves pet names tho, he lovessss pet names

when you call him love, baby, sweetheart, anythingggg he loves it

he especially loves when you call him sir like in any context

idk he’s silly like that :)

literally the sweetest man in the world

constantly thinking about you and talking about you

constantly creating new things/inventions for you

he would start writing up the mock-up of a project or an experiment and start thinking about you and then end up making something he thinks you’d like

sooo down bad for u dude, would give you the world if you asked

i feel like bill would find his love for you either fascinating or be so insanely jealous that you’ve got ford wrapped around your finger like that’s his man

imo the only solution is a threesome

WHAATTT WHO SAID THAT…. some of these artists draw bill so fine that i cant help it

he loves when you’re passionate about something! it doesn’t have to be mysteries and monsters, but just something that makes you yap (but he also loves when you listen to him talk, he’s more of a talker than a listener but he will listen to you)

yk that scene in those cliché romcoms… idk how to describe it so ill just put it into dialogue

‘gorgeous’ ford hums as you talk, the way your lips move, your expressions, everything hypnotizes him. ‘gorgeous’ he can’t help, but be enamored with you. you’re smart, kind, and passionate. “gorgeous” you stop and look at him.

“thank you?” you tilt your head at his words and his eyes went wide. he sputters as you laugh.

can have moments of smooth talk and flirting but the moment you reciprocate, he’s red in the face and stuttering

need him carnally, need him ways that even god will not allow me into heaven

switch!!!

he can do both i fear

he’s okay with you on top or him, definitely depends on his mood

like i said, FIT AS FUCK, whatever he’s been doing in that portal has treated him well

not insecure about his body more insecure about his lack of experience

he never talks about it about the stuff from before

he did a lot of research in positions, toys, and stuff like that

you had to tell him to calm down and take it slow

he’s more into giving pleasure than receiving

he wants you to feel good more than he wants to feel good

if you feel good, he feels good ykwim?

hes sooo pathetic tbh like begging, pleading, to eat you out like he wants it so bad

his glasses would fog up as you guys make out and he whips them off like sung-hoon does in business proposal

honestly that entire scene in business proposal?? ford.

hgnhhghghgngngnhgn i need him i feel ill

[noxtivagus]

uriangerrrrr 😭🫶🏼

[luludeluluramblings]

Dick Grayson's Obsession with Smalltown!Reader

A/N: Why dialogue hard? Why so hard? Y'all I tried, once again. I saved Dick for last because I really really really did not want to screw up his character. I did end up adding a scene from Part Seven in here. Just to give it some pizzazz.

A/N: Part Eight is in the works, but it’s either gonna be massive or I’m going to have to divide it up. Also, people be posting so straight up fire in the Yandere Bat tags lately. Good stuff, I needed that.

Warnings: Yandere themes, physical affection.

Out of everyone, Dick was the most enthusiastic about Reader coming to Wayne manor, while also being the most melancholic. The tragedy of their arrival wasn't lost on him, despite the thrill he had over the thought of having another person to add to hi life. Already, the need and wanted to smoother them in comfort and care was there. But, the life experiences he had allowed him to realize it was probably best not to overwhelm them.

Therefore, it came out in short burst of staggering affection at times. But, only when he was visiting. (There was no denying the fact that he was extremely tempted to call them on the phone just to make sure they were settling in just fine. And, that he fought that temptation every single night.)

That didn't stop him from feeling some minor annoyance with Bruce for keeping the fact that they existed a secret. Dick had seen the affects of this life and even felt them, but to let the family nearly miss out on something so honeyed with normalcy was cruel. (It would have been preferred if they didn't have to lose their parents in order to join the rest of the family, but it was hard to think like with how busy his schedule was and soft they felt in his arms.)

Admittedly he may have latched on to them too hard in the beginning. They felt stiff the first time his arms wrapped around them. The guilt of it gurgled in his throat, which is why he cut it short and went about his business. But, he couldn't stop the urge to do so each time they crossed each other's paths in the manor halls.

And, much to his glee, they start to soften. Slowly, but surly, they start to cling to him a little longer when his arms wrap around them. They start to depend on him. For once the thought of someone so conventional depending on him as Dick rather than as Nightwing, because everyone seems to depend on him as Nightwing, doesn't fill him with anxiety. It makes his chest flutter in a different way. Not with anxious butterflies, but with a flicker of a warmth.

It's completely innocent, the way the craving starts. He has to talk himself out of rearranging his entire schedule to be around them. Especially after the kidnapping incident. But, the Rouge break out gives him plenty of work to distract himself, and more frequent chances to find them in the manor for a dose of his new source of comfort.

His feelings finally start to become clear when rather than holding him longer and tighter, they finally reach for him themselves.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

“And, how is my favorite person today?” Already Dick has his arms opened wide for you when you walk out of the kitchen. He always appears from the depths of the manor, before he wraps around you like a slow creeping vine blooming with all sorts of sentiments.

"Alfred was doing good last I saw." But, by now you've grown to appreciate the way the tendrils curl around your limbs and burrow themselves into you. A small grin forming on your face at the chance to finally have someone to talk to, even if he isn't consistent company.

"Alfred isn't my favorite person, and you know it." The banter between them enjoyable and the undertones of his words ignorable in your obliviousness. "But, seriously, how are you doing today? You look like you have something on your mind. If it is you can tell me, you know that right?" The concern pouring put of his lips, as his grip tightens.

He had seen you through the cameras and had overheard the longing phone calls. The fact that your birthday was coming up had crossed his mind, and the realization that this would be your first without your parents did register in his brain. (But, it would also be you first with them. With him.) Bringing it up to you seemed like a bad idea. But, he would still try to encourage you to spill your feelings to him.

"No, no. It's nothing I promise." Your reply was soft and dismissive. But, the dishonesty was noticeable in it still.

Dick's arms seemed to tighten around you as you spoke, as if he was trying to decode the root of your troubles from the way your heart was beating against his chest. Eventually, he does loosen his limbs around you.

As he looks down, you known and he knows you’re lying. For a moment you think he going to push. To try to choke the words out of your lungs with another tight squeeze. But, he doesn't. Instead he lets you breathe.

"Okay," is all he says.

No extra nor unnecessary words. No constant reassurance that he'll always be there for you. Just a single word and the room to breathe. Those other things have already been said. Multiple times, in fact.

It's this one instance where he lets you breath that somehow gives you lungs the air it needs to blurt out what's bothering you as he pulls away.

"I wanna go home." The words escape your lips when you finally exhale and reach for him. The words coarse. "I just really want to go home for a bit. I miss home. I miss my family. I just—“

Dick doesn't even let you get halfway before he's enveloping you again. A slight tremble in his hands as he sprouts around you once more.

This. This is what he's wanted. You coming to him with your raw feelings. And, he knows he's the first person you've said this to at all.

"How can I help you?" He asks instead of questioning the statement.

"Can you help me convince Bruce to let me go, please, Dick?” The tentative way you ask and look up at him has him caving immediately.

"Of course!" Perhaps it was a good thing you didn't grow up in Wayne manor. If Bruce hadn't spoiled you, he most definitely would have. "I'll bring it up to B as soon as he gets back."

"He's gone?" You hadn't been informed of him even leaving, but then again, you were hardly every informed about anything it seems.

"Yeah, work emergency. It wasn't a big deal, but he'll be back soon." Dick can sense the mild tone shift, but manages to shift it back to something more lighthearted. "I'll make sure to butter him up for you. I swear. Puppy-dog eyes and everything."

It works, because before he can even clutch you to his chest you already wrapped your arms around his torso and pulled yourself towards him. Just the way you hug him tells him how genuine this type of embrace is. This is how you hold people. And, now, this is how you hold him.

"Thank you, Dick. Thank you." Comes your muffled reply into his chest.

The way you nuzzle into him like that's where you belong, because that's where you do belong, and the way you say his name causes his heart to melt. And, his mind to slowly sinks into the puddle it became.

Dick could stay like this for hours, but you start to pull away after a solid minute.

"I should let you get going. I know you got a lot of stuff to do." Your words sound so hopeful and understanding as you him go. The way you look up at him like he is your hero just for this simple small thing is touching.

Inwardly, he curses. The criminals of Gotham. The criminals of Blüdhaven, the team, the family, his schedule. Everything. He curses it all for that moment, because he could be holding you to his chest longer and having you look up at him like that instead. But, he lets it pass. He manages to let it go just as you pull away.

"Yeah, I do. But, don't think I'm going to brush off helping my favorite person in the world." Plastering on a well practiced pretty smile as he speaks.

"So, that means you got somebody more important off world? I see how it is." You tease in return as you fall for the practiced charm.

"Maybe." Dick lets the banter easy his mind. In reality, even off this world, you're probably his favorite, still. It should scare him, but it doesn't. "I'll let you know how Bruce takes the request. But, I'm prepared to sneak you out of here if necessary."

"I'll get the spy music ready, just incase." Things are starting to look up, and it's nice to have someone in your corner in this massive estate.

"Mission Impossible theme?" His grin become less practiced at the thoughts of having an adventure with you.

"Nah, the Pink Panther one. Just for the shenanigans." Your own grin growing wider and wider.

"Now I want to sneak you out just for fun." And, he means it. Already mentally planning your trip back home with him escorting you. And, then you possibly coming and staying in Blüdhaven with him in his guest room. Just to get you out of the manor, of course. Clearly you need it.

He can't ignore the way his pocket keeps buzzing, though. Clearly the others are in the cave waiting for him. But, they can wait a bit longer, he thinks diving in for one last embrace.

As you wholeheartedly reciprocate, he can see one of the secret security camera out the corner of his eye and he can't stop the smug smile from forming on his face as his gives you one last squeeze in front of it.

With the way his phone stills, he can tell the rest of them saw. It's not his fault they're too scared of physical affection to actually hug you. But, it does give him a monopoly on it with you.

As he makes his way down to the Batcave there's a skip in his step and that smug smile is still on his face.

He makes sure to look at everyone's faces as he joins them. Soaking up their envy. All of that wasn't to make them jealous, but it's kind of nice to have.

"Was all that necessary, Grayson?" Damian being the first to break the silence by practically spitting the words out through his gritted teeth. Even with his perfect poster the tension coiling in his limbs is visible to the untrained eye.

"Someone's got to be the one to do it, little D. And, clearly, they needed it." Dick's tone was placating, but his smile wasn't. The way he stands in the center of the room reminiscent of an orchestra conductor.

"Don't use them as an excuse for your touch-starved tendencies, Dick." Barbara retorted, rolling in her chair towards another computer. She immediately began typing on it at a furious pace, clearly trying to distract herself.

"Low blow, Babs." He whistled in return. Everyone else seemed focused on giving him the silent treatment causing his grin to widen further. "I can't help that I'm a naturally-"

"I just texted Bruce about it." Duke suddenly says, looking up from his phone with a smug grin. He face had been blank before, but the way his eyes glanced up at Dick and the others when there heads jerk towards him showed off a hint of self-satisfaction.

"That's cheating." Childishly spills from Dick's mouth. This was suppose to be his favor to them. His. Not anyone else's.

"Bruce doesn't get text while in the Watchtower." Stephanie points out while uncurling from her seat, but the damage is done.

"Could we contact Father in the Watchtower?" Damian practically leaps from his seat and rushes to the Batcomputer where Tim sits. Alliances quickly being drawn up.

"He'd be pissed if we contacted him for something like this." Jason adds with a grin. He doesn't bother looking up from cleaning his guns, just not at all bothered by the prospect of pissing Bruce off.

"But, then message would be logged into the League data base." Comes Barbara's stern voice from her computer, her typing coming to a pause. Tim still keeps at whatever he was working on before Dick walked into the cave, but on the screen there is a flash of airline websites so it's fairly easy to conclude what his plan of persuasion is.

Cassandra watches the exchange reading the emotions through everyone's movements. Silently, she throws her bid in as well. Choosing to slide over to Stephanie and signing the making of a plan.

From there it spirals into an all out argument between each and every member of the family. Debating logistics and exchanging petty insults that seems to go on for hours. Hardly anything gets done while words are being thrown around like bullets.

In the back of his mind, Dick once again curses everyone and everything for ruining this for him. But, he reassures himself, the banter from earlier comes back to him.

It's a decent plan, he thinks. Sneaking Reader out of the manor. Convincing Bruce would be ideal, but it wouldn't be the first time he's broken the rules. And, it's for their happiness and well being. They need him. They asked him for his help. Not the other's. Not anyone else's. His. Bruce will understand.

Besides, it would be nice to see the Smalltown they grew up in. It sounds like a quaint little place. What could possibly be wrong with it?

[dontbesoweirdkira]

Yandere Raiden x reader x Yandere Fujin? Or feed my delusional mind with just Yandere mk men x reader- with that harem “no she’s mine! Not yours!”

“Alright, men please listen up. Y/N can only choose one of us..which means you all will have to die.”

A/N: I love a delusional queen from infinity to infinityyyyyy. MHMM OFC!!! Anything for my delusional friends…I didn’t have Raiden in this one because I’m going to give you some good stuff in a separate post. I have Raiden and Fujin fighting for you in that. Plus a bonus;) this has been my favorite request so far.

Warnings: Johnny cage💀, Yandere/Toxic Themes, mentions of stalking, harassment, violence, a bit suggestive???

Requests: open 24/7

Masterlist

Let’s be real, the mk men are perpetually thirsty. Actually all the characters are to be honest. Did you hear the flirty dialogue?? Even the keeper is trying to get some of that action.

So really it’s no shocker that you, the new fighter, have all the attention from them.

Johnny is undoubtedly the first to strike. He may be an older man now but damn, you make him feel like he’s 20 again. He just cannot control making some kind of flirtatious comment when he sees you walk by.

“Woah, woah, woah, now sweetheart. I think you and I should have a nice long conversation. Get to know each other a little…or a lot…dealers choice.” ;)

Yeahh he doesn’t care that he has a kid and a mortgage. Cassie is grown now and Sonya doesn’t want him anymore…so free game, baby.

His eyes are hungry and he barely can hold himself back from pouncing on you—

Liu Kang and Kung Lao see this and apologize for his behavior towards you. They introduced themselves and of course did their absolute best to make you feel at home.

Don’t let this fool you though, those are some sinful monks. They are no better than Johnny and they want you real baaaad.

“So, Y/N. What is your skill set? Wait. Let me guess, you use beauty essence to trap your opponent in a daze before knocking them out?”

Liu Kang jabs Kung Lao in the stomach with his elbow, before speaking to you.

“I’m sorry for these two. You are very beautiful but please know we are just as excited to train with you as we would anyone else. Anytime you’d like to spar, please, don’t hesitate to find me.”

Ahh he’s so damn slick…he just wants a reason to pin you downnnn

“Hey! Liu Kang don’t you mean us? We all would like to train with you darling~. Some people like to fight over in the courtyard but if you’d like I have a very special place called, me casa.”

“I would also like to train with you…in the courtyard of course. I mean unless you prefer—“

“Thanks? Umm..I appreciate all of your….offers. I’m supposed to actually meet with Raiden, I’m just a little lost. Have you guys—-“

Before you could even finish your sentence all three of them bombarded you with offers and began fighting over each other, debating who actually knows how to find Lord Raiden the best.

“Uhh—“

That pretty much sets the tone for how everyone acts around you.

By a month or so into you being here, everyone knows about you. Especially the men. You’re all they talk about.

At first it was simply chatter about you being a new kombatant for earthrealm and of course mentions of your beauty.

But since learning more about and becoming closer with you, the little infatuations have turned into full blown obsessions.

No one can seem to get enough of you, even the grand masters have trouble focusing when you’re around. Hanzo and Kai Liang may disagree on many things but you are one of the few things they can get behind.

They are both trying to recruit you to their different clans so they can be fully entitled to you.

Scorpion wants extreme control over you, he wants to shape you into the perfect companion. He wants you to be just as poised as his wife once was. You already have her beauty so just let him perfect you.

Sub-Zero wants you to become his equal. What he failed to do with Frost, he will make up with you. How more beautiful you’d become if only your heart was frozen over.

Either one will stop at nothing to have you. A trophy they could boast over. For a second you ended a centuries-long feud, both agreeing on your excellence…only for it to start all over again for who is more worthy to own you.

This isn’t isolated to just them, all the men are fighting for your attention. Arguing about who you actually belong to, bragging about how much attention they got from you, and comparing it to each other. Don’t get me started on that. Mk men are so needy for your attention. Whenever they can’t get it, they resort to other ways.

Johnny is such a filthy pervert. You don’t wanna give him the time of day? Fine, he’ll take matters into his own hands.

He’s your very own paparazzi, you should be grateful that he’s taking this many pictures of you. You’re the first and only.

It doesn’t matter that he’s doing it without your consent or knowledge…. He’ll jump into the flesh pits if that meant getting the perfect shot of you…let him have this.

He refuses to share these with the other guys, it’s just for him. Over his dead body will Kano or someone else see you like this.

Shang Tsung has also caught wind of you and you’re a pretty sight indeed. He doesn’t want you to fight in the tournament. A gorgeous soul like you should be locked away in his throne room. He always tries to bribe you with fortune and power. He can offer you so much more than these rodents. If you need an extra push in his direction, a little trickery may help with that….he has no shame using an incantation on you.

Liu Kang and Kung Lao are no better. They manipulate that fact you see them as good friends as a way to be in the limelight.

They stalk you just as much as the rest, sometimes separately but often times together. It always ends up in a fight between the two tho because one person starts shit talking…

“Idk Kang. A woman like that would never be into you. Kitana barely even looks your way…what makes you think Y/N will? Besides, she called me cute.”

“Yeah, I think she’ll think it’s real ‘cute’ how I destroy you in the tournament..”

Perverted as Cage. Kung Lao is extremely touchy while sparring. He loves to “teach” you things. He never shines away from a moment to flex all of his years of training under the shaolin and that he’s a self proclaimed expert.

For some reason when he’s fixing your form, his hand always winds up a little too far up…hmm strange.

Liu Kang loves when you watch him workout or spar with others. When it’s finally your turn to be his opponent, he never holds back.

You cannot catch a break. Gifts and proposals are constantly sent to your door and no matter how much you try to decline, it just won’t stop coming. Sure being basically waited on, and desired by many is really nice. Every girls dream! But you have to admit just how it is scary having such dangerous men obsessed with you.

There hasn’t been a moment in the last few months where you’ve ever felt completely alone. The feeling that someone is always watching you has never left.

And, occasionally you would awkwardly overhear or walk in on a group of men fighting about you.

“With all due disrespect, I believe a babe like that would prefer a star like me. She’s all mine”

“Nonsense. Y/N belongs to the Shirai Ryu. Both her beauty and skill makes her a viable asset to the clan. You can fight me in hell over it, Cage.”

It doesn’t get any better when the tournament starts.

I think the men forgot they were fighting for their realms because it quickly turned into a fight for dominance.

A tournament that was once a noble cause, turned into a bloody showcase. Every man dedicating their wins to you, making sure to send a cheeky flex or wink your way.

Besides, what value did their realms hold if you weren’t there with them.

[backtothefanfiction]

Well this is awkward

Warnings: none, maybe a little cringe behaviour from Oliver, fluff

A/N- just an idea that came to me after a dialogue prompt I saw on Pinterest. This is just a quick one before I sleep.

It was hot. Too hot. You couldn’t understand how everyone was so content just out lying in the sun like this, especially when you knew they had to be just as hungover as you were. That’s why you had decided to excuse yourself and take a siesta.

You’d closed the shutters in Felix’s room but left the windows open in hopes that even the slightest breeze would help circulate the heat within the room just enough to give you respite and allow you to sleep. Alone in the room you hadn’t thought twice about stripping off your clothes and slipping naked between the cool white cotton sheets on Felix’s bed, burying your head into his pillow, allowing it to comfort you as you drifted off to sleep.

When you woke an hour later your headache was gone. When you looked to the bedside table you realised a glass of water and a note had been left for you. “Drink up pretty flower then come find us in the library.” Your boyfriend’s sweetness and care for others never failed to make you smile.

Dreamily you rose from the bed grabbing the closest clothes on the floor. You slipped on your denim shorts, but instead of putting your own top back on, you reached for a button up left lying on the floor. It was a little bit too big for you and you did the buttons up messily, but it was just what you needed, light and airy and enough room between the fabric and your skin to not feel like you were suffocating in the persistent heat.

You padded down to the library bare foot. The door was propped open slightly but you didn’t need to see to know who was in there, Venetia’s giggly cackle drowning out the three boys lower chuckles.

“There she is.” Felix cooed as you made your way into the room, moving across the carpet to flop into a small spot on the sofa beside him.

“Yay, finally, Daisy’s here!” Venetia sighed thankfully in a tone that implied that the boys had been ganging up on her and she was grateful for the girl power.

“Hey.” Felix said with a small smile, wrapping his arm around the backs of your shoulder and pulling you closer to him. His lips brushed against yours tenderly before he pulled away to look at you again.

“Hey.” You said back with a breathy smile.

Your eyes followed his as he trailed them down your body, his eyes slowly furrowing. His fingers began to toy with the collar of the shirt as he questioned, “whose shirt is this?”

“I thought it was yours.” You replied.

“No.” Felix said with a frown.

“Umm, it mine.” Ollie slowly said from the other side of the room, hand raised.

“Well this is awkward.” Farleigh said nibbling on his lip trying to feign ignorance to the fire bubbling in his veins over the hint of potential drama; as you and Felix slowly looked to the new comer of the group.

“I picked it up off your floor.” You said, head turning to Felix confused. “Fix?”

“I don’t know.” Felix quickly replied to your implied question before formally asking it to Oliver. “Ollie, why was your shirt on the floor in my room?”

Oliver shuffled on the floor uncomfortably before he shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know.” He said timidly, ��maybe the maid dropped it while collecting stuff and passing through your room.” Everyone knew he was making excuses and looking to pin it on the help, but no one tried to challenge him on it. “It looks good on you though.” He quickly said.

You had no doubt he said it to reassure you, but it only made your skin crawl. You looked to the clock in the room, you had slept so long it was nearing time to get ready for dinner anyway. “I’m just gonna go and have a shower and get ready for dinner anyway.” You say quietly to the room, to no one in particular but more so towards Felix.

“Yeah, okay.” Felix said quietly as you got up off the sofa. “Uh, do you want me to join you.” He said quietly as he sat forward on the sofa cushions, hands rubbing at his thighs.

You made a point of looking towards Oliver, a look of jealousy flashing like lightning across his face before he met your eyes and schooled his gaze again, as you pointedly said to Felix, “That would be lovely.”

The moment you’d gone back into the safety of Felix’s room you stripped yourself of the shirt again, your boyfriend laughing as you opened the door of the adjoining bathroom on Oliver’s side, dramatically throwing it down the hallway.

“Uhh, get me in the shower.” You said as you turned back to Felix, a mischievous look on his face as he obliged. He turned on the water before picking you up with a squeal and dumping you in the shower, still half clothed.

[devnmon]

Sheriff's Deputy Morgan

pics are mine, do not steal!

Summary: Arthur comes back to camp one day with a shiny new badge on his chest, and you can't take him seriously. Though you tease him constantly, he gets particularly fed up and finally puts you in your place.

Warnings: arthur's a lil mean but rightfully so, doggy style, unprotected piv (not recommended for irl experiences), teasing, creampie, orgasm denial if u squint

a/n: hi friends! i wrote this pretty quickly after starting yet another round of rdr2 and beginning ch3 again. idk what it wad this time that made the damn badge arthur wears so very attractive to me. i couldn’t help myself from making this a piece of absolute filth! if theres repeated dialogue or stuff, its from my very minimal editing. otherwise enjoy <3

wc: 3.2k

You were tired. Exhausted, worn down, and burnt out definitely were more accurate terms, but all your body could feel was drained. From Blackwater, to Horseshoe Overlook, to Clemen's Point. Would the running ever cease? 

As the next morning sun rose across the vast lake, the temperature was already heating up by mid-morning. It was an uneventful day of mundane tasks with the other girls, until Dutch and Arthur returned to camp with shiny sheriff badges on their chest. To see those of all things accompany their outfits and not blood and bullet holes for once was indeed a surprise. 

"Your cowboy a deputy now, huh?" Tilly began, glancing at you facing his direction. 

"Shut up, Tilly. I'm sure that ain’t really what's happenin'..." you responded playfully, huffing a breath and abandoning the laundry you were in the middle of washing. Ms. Grimshaw's voice echoed in your ear the minute she saw you walking off, but your strides took you away from her just in time for you to make it to Arthur's tent. 

Observing as he sat on his cot when you neared Arthur's tent, your eyes hadn't deceived you; Arthur was wearing a deputy badge, and that meant Dutch was wearing one too. 

"Who in their right mind deputized you fools?" you laughed, catching the blues of the man before you. Arthur met your eye and smiled sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck before standing up and wrapping his arms around your waist. 

"Well, it is lovely to see you too, darlin'." he drawled, pressing a quick kiss on your cheek. "And that would be the drunken sheriff in Rhodes. Seemed dumb enough, but it was Dutch's idea. So I couldn't exactly say no." 

You grasped Arthur's forearms as they wrapped around you, moving you closer to him with that strength of his. The oaky aroma he always possessed surrounded you completely. 

"Well, good thing you're not really employed by the government. Then we'd truly have an issue." you chuckled, spotting his chipped front tooth peeking out from between his lips while he smirked.  

"Oh, yeah... you wouldn't get away with things that easily now, would ya?" Arthur spoke into your ear as his palms tightened around your waist. 

"No, of course we wouldn't..." you replied, recalling the numerous times you'd teased your cowboy and left him high and dry. Your flirtatious quips always settled in a part of him he couldn't control. Arthur spent many evenings much too unsatisfied until he was able to get you alone. Left only with your words clouding his mind and half hard cock, he was more than sensitive once he was able to satisfy himself. 

Arthur would have to wait until night fell to take care of his bothersome desires with you. He reckoned it frustrating when all you did was get away with it only because he allowed you to. 

He had half the mind to take you where everyone could see and hear, but his pride was too much to bear losing, especially in front of the older members of camp.

“If we wasn’t in the middle of camp with pryin’ eyes and ears, I’d have you bent over an’ full of me already.” He growled, before you pulled him in for a passionate kiss and slipped through his grip to return to your chores.

Arthur has really got to stop letting this happen, scowling to himself as he watched you immerse sensibly back into your chores. He figured the rest of the day would pass by quicker if he did the same. 

You knew nothing good came from teasing a man like Arthur to his breaking point, especially when he’s known for being able to take someone down if prompted. There was no question or doubt he was able to do the same to you. 

Arthur’s strength is unmatched, he’s able to overpower you easily in most situations. Yet, he’s delicate– sensual and gentle with you. In a way, he let you get away with teasing him many times and was still fervent and carnal when giving  you pleasure. 

But recently… pushing his limits like this day after day was getting on his nerves. He tried his best to shove those feelings down but you didn’t ease up on him one bit. 

Upon chopping wood and tending to the horses for the last hours of daylight, Arthur found himself catching your eye multiple times across camp. Your stares bore into him each time he would spot them, while watching you look away trying to feign innocence. Once he spotted you sitting around the campfire eating dinner, he figured that his opportunity to find a seat next to you for company. 

“Well, hi there, darlin’.” Arthur spoke as he sat down, getting particularly close to your hips with his. The gruff sound of his voice was telling enough with the amount of looks he was giving you during the silence as the two of you ate. 

“Hello, deputy Morgan.” you teased once again, taking no shame in staring him down while licking your spoon clean. Arthur cleared his throat tellingly, moving himself flush against your side. 

“Now who told you to call me that?” he murmured lowly in your ear, a ghost of goosebumps covering the back of your neck. 

“I was just doin’ as I’m seein’... Y’got that shiny badge, and you ain’t makin’ much use of it.” you practically whispered back in response. 

“Oh.. should I? Be makin’ use of it?” The gruff of Arthur’s voice bewildered your mind, struggling to calm the hunger gnawing at your lower regions. 

“Maybe you should… deputy. Before things get out of hand..” you snarked, dragging your eyes up and down his body. By the tone of your voice, Arthur could tell you weren’t done with whatever shenanigans planned. To let you spin a little yarn before taking control back had sincerely been his favorite part of his life with you. For you to play a little game just to get him to give himself over to you, each time overflowing with passion and hunger– he must really be smitten. 

Dinnertime flew by, and once the first light of the moon covered the ground, mostly everyone in camp had settled down for the night. After practically gluing himself to the outside of camp to avoid everyone else, Arthur made his way back to his tent. Of course, once he approached, the first thing he saw was you rummaging through his satchel. 

“Excuse me, miss?” Arthur spoke, placing his hands on his gunbelt, a typical deputy stance. 

“Arthur– it’s not what it looks like…” you began, noting his stature and the way his eyes locked on your figure. His chest hair poked through the unbuttoned part of his shirt, reminding you what type of man you were dealing with– especially with that badge. 

“That’s Deputy Morgan to you. Now, why don’t you tell me what you were really doin’ ‘round here.” He took a few steps closer, maintaining such intimidating posture above you. 

“Um… I was just lookin’ for a few dollars. Treat myself to a drink or two. Nothin’ big.” 

“And you couldn’t have just… asked for the money, huh doll?” 

“Thought it would be embarrassing. ’M sorry, deputy..” you chuckled, spinning Arthur’s little spiel along. 

“I’m afraid..” he stepped closer, “that ain’t good enough for me, sweetheart.” His natural tobacco and honey scent overloaded your senses, and all you could see, hear, and smell was him. 

“Well… is there anythin’ I could do to make it alright? Wouldn’t want to leave one of the sheriff’s finest deputies unsatisfied..” His index finger hooked under your chin, lifting your eyes to catch his, blues darkened in the moonlight. 

“Y’can start by makin’ eye contact when you speak to me, darlin’.” Arthur’s husky voice commanded, staring up at him like a deer in headlights. 

“Yes, Deputy Morgan. What else can I… do for you?” His eye contact was intense and captivating, the beginning of a smirk making its way onto your lover’s face. Those perfectly imperfect teeth of his shone as they began to show themselves from between his lips.

“Finish what you started, pretty girl.” The other hand on his gunbelt unbuckled it in one motion, tossing it on the ground before undoing the button on his pants. 

“Yes, sir, deputy Morgan…” Your genuine attraction to the man above you made your sultry voice that much more intoxicating for Arthur’s ears. He had half the mind to take what he wanted, but he knew you better than that. Plus, he loved your hands on him. 

With a quick unzip and yank of his riding pants, Arthur’s length popped out of his undergarments and stood before you. There he stood, red and erect, swollen from being worked up all day long. 

“It must be so difficult, walking around with this irritating you actin’ like everything’s alright.” One of your hands wrapped around the base of him, warm and throbbing in your grasp. Arthur growled at your contact and immediately removed your hand from him, and held it above your head before turning you to lay on your stomach. 

“Arthur–” 

“Hush, girl. You’ve been a pain in my ass all day long. Don’t think I deserve that, now do ya?” You silently shook your head, beginning to breathe heavily at his contact with your skin. That strength of his held both your arms in place, his strength overpowering you without breaking a sweat. Arthur used his other hand to yank your undergarments down your legs, before running his fingers through your folds. He chuckled at how soaked you were without even being touched. 

“Feel that? ‘S just for you.”

“What’chu think suckin’ up to me’s gonna do, huh?” 

“Nothin’... I just want you… bad.”

“Well if that hasn’t been abundantly clear to me all damn day, miss.” His tip prodded at your entrance teasingly. Arthur could tell you were clearly worked up in advance with the way he slotted himself through your folds with no resistance. Just the temptation to slip inside you in that moment controlled him like the wind to the rain and it took everything in him to resist. The groan of approval he let rumble through his chest and onto your back was enough for you to clench around nothing. 

“Look at that. I ain’t even the one been doin’ the teasin’, and you’re a goddamn mess.” 

“Believe it or not that damn badge has turned me on more than I can admit, sir…” you choked out, breathing heavily below him. 

“I don’t recall giving you permission to speak, darling.”

“You ain’t even got any cuffs… some deputy you are…” you breathed, ending your words with a snark in your tone. Arthur scoffed, pushing into you completely to shut you up, hearing a whimper escape you. The cowboy was ruthless, slotting himself all the way until your pelvis was flush against his. Arthur’s body was hot and muscular against yours, his rugged figure locking you under him. 

“What you got to say, huh? With the way y’re layin’ under me, you ain’t gonna be goin’ anywhere anytime soon. Now hush.” 

You swallowed upon feeling every inch of him meld to your walls as you adjusted to his size. Out of reflex, you clenched around him, listening to him rummage around and grab something. The top of your head rested against Arthur’s pillow, his hand still restricting both of yours. 

You could feel his hand begin to go sweaty until he replaced it with his other, rope in hand. 

“Arthur– what’re you doin’?” you asked, squirming underneath him and breathing heavily against the tightness of the rope wrapping around your wrists. Once it was secured not too tightly, he’d tied you to the leg of his side table.

“Told you– ain’t goin’ nowhere. Now…” Arthur’s grip returned to your hips, pulling himself all the way out of you and thrusting back in completely. Every inch slid warm and welcomingly against your walls. “I’m gonna take my time with you, sweetheart. Show you how bad teasin’ someone like me can turn out for ya.” 

Arthur sighed with pleasure with his cock twitching inside you, slick leaking out of your entrance. His warm hands caressed your waist desperately, gripping and sinking his fingers into your flesh. 

“Mmh… please go faster, Arthur,” you know that pleading at this point would only piss him off more, but there wasn’t much else you could do whilst pinned underneath him. 

“Nah, nah. You don’t get t’tell me how to fuck you. You made it very clear you ain’t interested in listenin’ to me when ya kept teasin’ me actin’ like I wouldn’t notice.” He pulls his hips away from yours for a moment, only to push all the way back in a bit harder than last time. You stifle a moan as his tip kisses the exact spot he knows drives you crazy. 

One of his hands goes to grab your hair, twisting it around his palm a few times and pulling. Your head jerks upwards, his fullness pushing a bit more against that spongy spot. 

“Y’know, it pains me to be like this, cause I ain’t ever seen someone as fine as you. Why you act like a brat all the time, I don’ know.” Arthur punctuated his sentences with movements of his hips– hard and rough into you. There’s something so filthy about the way he’s grunting in your ear while his hips press against yours so passionately. 

“Jus’ want your attention, Mister Morgan. Can’t– mmmh… can’t take it when you walk around lookin’ the way you do. Fuck… and that badge– you don’ know what it does t’me.” Arthur’s chest grumbles with a deep chuckle, using his free hand to land a smack on your ass. 

“Hm, well look where that’s gotten ya. Dirty girl. Had me all worked up, thinkin’ I’d be showin’ you who’s boss, but ya still got what’cha want.” 

Every hard thrust had you clenching around him instinctively and sending you further into absolute bliss. 

“You have… oh, right there Arthur–” Your breathy gasps and moans pair quite nicely with the feeling of your tight walls that meld to him every time he’s inside you. He’s not one to be short lived in bed, but the way you’re squeezing so hot around him and relishing in how good he makes you feel– he’s shot closer to release, rhythmic thrusts of his hips stuttering a bit.

“Ya really outdid yourself this time, sweetheart. Makin’ it hard for me to walk around camp without wantin’ to let everyone see what you do to me. But… I prefer this instead, havin’ you all to myself.” Arthur’s heavy breathing revealed how hot he’d been for you as you were for him. 

He knows you’ve got him wrapped around your finger, and does a damn good job of trying to contain himself. But the minute you start acting needy, he’s putty in your hands. Arthur’s self control goes out the window when your walls squeeze him, as if you could feel any damn better than you already do. Wet and pleading for only him, siphoning his willpower like a siren and never seeming like you’d ever stop having that effect on him. 

He pistons himself inside you, hitting your most tender parts and feeling that wave of release curling up over his shoulder. 

“Arthur, m’close…” your words come out so slurred that you’re not sure he even understood you. Though when his movements become much slower, when he’s pressing himself deeper into you each time, you know he’s prolonging it. Even if it’s just for a moment, Arthur wants to string you along like you’d done for days on end. 

“Breathe, baby, you can hold out for me a little while longer, can’t ya?” Through your continuously stifled sounds, your head nods and somehow his thrusts become even more drawn out. Arthur’s sure he’s never going to see heaven, especially not when he bathes in this type of affection you give him and is hard pressed to say he’d find it anywhere else. 

“Wanna come so bad, Arthur… promise I’ll never do it again,” your voice, high pitched and shaky, shot through him like a lightning bolt. Immediately pressing his back against yours, Arthur knows you can’t take any more.

“Prove it, honey. Come on, come for me. Be a good girl…” His fingers find your hardened nipple, pulling and twisting away while burying himself into you. 

“Arthur– fuck, I’m gonna–” With his words, you gushed around him, slick painting his thighs like an art piece. Goosebumps coated your skin, walls fluttering with passion. Your release was enough to send him over the edge, hips stuttering with every second that passed. 

His gruff voice spews a string of praises together, growling in your ear and losing himself in the pleasure. 

So pretty filled up with me…

Fuck, you’re perfect every time.

Such a good girl.

And when he comes inside, paints your walls with his spend, his lips press against your neck fervently, till his breathing steadies again. 

“Thank you, thankyouthankyou…” you mumbled, knees collapsing so you lay completely on his cot. Arthur’s weight lifts off your back, pulling himself out of you and pausing to take in the view of you. A bit of him slips out of you and down your leg, and it takes everything in him to not become hard and fuck you again. The sheen of sweat on your thighs glistens in the lantern light, and immediately reaches to untie your wrists, still attached to his bedside table before buttoning his pants back up.

“Here we go, sweetheart. Ya did so well f’me.” A sigh leaves your lungs before turning over to face him. His cheeks are flushed and his forehead is shiny with beads of sweat, but he couldn’t look more perfect in his afterglow. 

“‘M sorry I made ya mad… You know I love you,” you drawled, that sweet voice of yours clouding his mind. 

“Aw, I love ya too, baby. Sometimes, you just get on my damn nerves… teasin’ me like that ain’t good for a man’s head. ‘Specially not when I’m an honorary deputy of Lemoyne. But you jus’ like how the badge looks on me, don’t ya?” He sat down next to you, pushing a lock of hair out of your face. 

“Can’t blame me if I say yes, very much so, Arthur.” Your hand cups his cheek, pulling him in for a soft kiss. 

“Well, good thing pretty girls get off easy from the law. Least, that’s what I’ve heard.” Arthur licked his lips, smirking at your blushing reaction.  Referencing that damn badge again, the thing that started this whole mess, you giggled. 

“Well, I can’t promise to be on my best behavior, but I’d gladly be bossed around by Sheriff Arthur if it meant gettin’ you close to me.” You laid down, holding your hand out for him to join you. 

“I’m already as close as can be, darlin’. How could I ever be closer?” His fingers intertwined with you, scooching up next to you while using his arm to pull you against his chest. 

“Just like this.” your soft words lingered in the cool air as your eyes closed and the two of you drifted off to sleep. Arthur Morgan was one hell of an honorary deputy.

[fanficsformyfaves]

Or What?

Rhea Ripley x Uso Sister!Reader

WARNING: SMUT 18+, ANGST, Enemies To Lovers, Confessions, Semi-Public Sex, Use of Nicknames, Oral Sex (R Receiving), Fingering (R Receiving), Orgasm Denial (R Receiving), Degradation and Praise Kink (R Receiving), Mommy Kink, Choking Kink (R Receiving), Strap On Sex (R Receiving), Choking (R Receiving)

PREFACE: Reader has always known Rhea to be arrogant, callous and mean, so it only made sense that she despised the eradicator, especially after what she did to her brother...but what happens when they find themselves in a broom closet alone together?

A/N: Jey and Rhea are feuding in this A/U

Announcer's Dialogue In Bold and Colored!

Texts in Italic, Colored and Bold!

As I waited for Jey to finish up his match, I hear the sound of boot heels clicking from down the hall and when I turn my head to see who it was, I was immediately vexed.

Rhea fucking Ripley.

I couldn't help but roll my eyes. She was easily the most smug-faced asshole I'd ever met and not only that, she had the audacity to make my brother look stupid in front of the entire world.

I stuff my phone into my back pocket, before crossing my arms over my chest.

"Well, if it isn't little (Y/N) Uso. What's a cute thing like you doing out here by yourself?", she teased.

I simply looked away, ignoring her comment.

"Hm, never took you for the shy type", she said,

Taking a step closer towards me.

"From what I've seen, you're quiet the firecracker", she brushes a hair from my face.

I grab her wrist, staring daggers into her eyes.

"Never...touch me"

She lets out a dark chuckle, using the grip I had on her to yank me closer. Our faces were now merely inches apart.

"Or what, princess?"

"Or...I'll..."

"Mhm, use your words", she whispered,

Leaning down closer to the point her breath brushed against my bottom lip.

What was happening? And why was I not pulling away? I should've...but I just couldn't.

Just as I was desperately trying to regain my composure, the crowd outside goes wild and the speakers go off.

Announcer: And here is your winner...Jey...USOOO!

My brother's theme song began playing and I knew he was just moments away from bursting through the doors.

Shit, if he sees me causing trouble, I'm gonna be in for it. I could already hear him and some guards just around the corner. With seemingly no other option, I push Rhea and myself into the closet directly behind her and close it shut.

"What are you doing?"

"Saving both of our asses", I whispered,

Stepping away from the door. The footsteps were getting closer with each passing second and my heart was pounding so hard, I could barely breathe.

As if getting caught in the hallways wouldn't have been bad enough, I could only imagine what would happen if Jey found us in a literal closet together.

The shadow of his feet stop right in front of the door and I was panicking like I never have before.

"Have y'all seen (Y/N)? She said she'd be waiting right here"

"No, sir, not since before the match started"

"Hm", he hummed dismissively,

Before carrying on towards his dressing room.

Once he was finally gone, I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding.

"Jesus, that was close"

"You're telling me", she replied.

That's when I finally noticed her towering figure hunched over behind me, with an arm around my waist and her hand flat on my stomach.

I turn to face her and there we were again.

Her lips almost meeting mine, as our eyes found one another in a tense exchange. I couldn't comprehend much of anything that was happening, but mostly, I was confused at why I wasn't pulling away again.

She humiliated my brother and betrayed him. I had every right to hate her...right?

"You know", she breaks the silence,

"You're awfully adorable, when you aren't staring daggers into me"

There was that stupid smirk again, only this time it affected me differently.

Instead of becoming agitated, I felt a second heartbeat I didn't feel before. Every inch of my skin was overheating at her touch and she knew it.

"Oh...you like this, don't you?"

"What? No-"

"Such a cliche, falling for your brother's enemy"

"I don't-"

"Then how come you aren't shoving me away and telling me to fuck off like you usually do?", she questioned,

Gently turning my body to fully face her, before pinning me to the wall by my arms.

"I think we both know the answer to that question, darling", she whispered,

Ducking her head down on my shoulder, whilst trailing kisses up my neck.

"Just say it. Say you want me and put a rest to this tiring act of pretending like you don't"

Was she right?

Have I just been in denial about the attraction I felt for her and hid behind anger all this time?

I couldn't quite focus on finding a proper explanation, as she reached the lobe of my ear, nibbling on it and forcing a whine out of me.

"God, even the sounds you make are sweet. Wonder if you'll taste as sweet as you sound", she mumbled against me,

Running her hand up my thigh.

"R-Rhea"

"All you have to do is tell me to stop and I will. Is that what you want?"

I contemplated for a moment. This was wrong. Getting involved with someone like her would only ever end in chaos, especially with the bad blood she had with Jey...but in that moment, any voice of reason was no match for the way she was touching me.

"No", I ultimately answered.

"Good"

Not wanting to waste any more of the limited time we had, she finally presses her lips against mine.

They were soft and gentle, which surprised me the most.

One of her hands let off my waist and trailed up my skirt, brushing against my bundle of nerves through the underwear I had on.

I whined against her mouth, which curled up into an excited grin.

"Sensitive, are you? Let's see how long it takes till I have you cumming on my tongue"

Just then, she drops to her knees, flipping up my skirt to take a good look at the mess she was already making of me.

"God, I barely touched you yet", she mocked,

Before pulling my thong to the side and licking up my slick entrance.

"Mmm, so fucking sweet", she praised,

Throwing my thighs over her strong shoulders, so I was sat on top of her. It didn't take long for her lips to wrap around my bundle of nerves, as the grasp she had on my hips tightened with each passing lick.

I intertwined my fingers in her hair, whilst her name repeatedly spilled out of me like a prayer that would never be answered.

Eventually, I feel the tip of two digits press against my slit, before slipping themselves completely inside me with no resistance to stop them.

Her momentum immediately fast and relentless.

Already, the knot in the pit of my stomach began to tighten and threaten to snap. I could tell by the way she smirked over my clit that she knew it too.

"Not so tough when I have you at my mercy, are you? Maybe I shouldn't let you cum", she teased,

"No! Please, don't stop!", I pleaded,

"Good girl", she says,

Continuing her unletting efforts to bring me over the edge, but before she could, voices on the other side of the door interrupts us.

I immediately let out a gasp, causing Rhea to slap a hand over my mouth.

"Jey's looking for (Y/N)"

"Wasn't she just here earlier?"

"Yeah, but I don't know where she went"

The security guards eventually move past the closet and I let out a sigh of relief.

I get off of her, arranging my skirt and she eyes me up in confusion.

"What are you doing?"

"This was a mistake"

She scoffs, getting up and dusting her knees.

"You didn't seem to think this was a 'mistake' when my tongue was wearing you out", she tested,

Pushing my head up with a hooked finger.

"Now...what did you say about me never touching you again?"

I roll my eyes and push her hand away.

"Wait five minutes before I leave", I instructed,

"Whatever you say", she smiled,

Looking down at her feet.

I carefully opened the door, whilst peaking my head out to make sure the coast was clear and once it was, I step out and close it, when I turn back around and was ambushed by my brother.

"Fucking Christ, dude!", I exclaimed,

As my hand went over my chest.

"Aye, language", he warned,

"Sorry"

"Where were you? I've been looking for like twenty minutes"

"The...bathroom"

"For twenty minutes?"

"Yo, what's with the interrogation, dawg? Woman business", I snapped,

"Alright, alright. I was just asking", he throws his hands up in surrender,

"I wanna grab food on the way back, come on", he says,

Putting an arm over my shoulder and walking me out. I quickly glance back at the closet door and prayed it stayed closed till we were out of sight.

Once we got into the car, I was finally left to my thoughts.

The guilt that overwhelmed me was all consuming and burdensome. I had just slept with my brother's nemesis. The person he hated most and here I was, pretending like it didn't happen, as he went on and on about his current win.

In that moment, I get a notification on my phone and I go to see who it was. I didn't recognize the number, but once I saw the text, I knew immediately.

Unknown Number: We should talk about this

Me: There's nothing to talk about

Unknown Number: Oh please, spare me, are you really going back to being in denial?

Me: Denial about what?

Unknown Number: Whatever

Unknown Number: But, when you do come to your senses, you know where to find me, beautiful ;)

I lock my phone and shove it inside my purse with a sigh.

"You good?"

"Yeah, just tired"

"Well, you look tired", he says,

Mimicking the sweat dripping down my face, causing me to hastily swipe it off.

After stopping by at a pizza place for dinner, we head to the hotel and made our way back to the suite.

"That was scrumptious. We needa head back before going home", Jey emphasized,

Opening the door and letting the both of us inside.

"I call the shower first"

"Dude", I go to argue,

"Ah! Winners get special privileges", he mocked.

I roll my eyes and he chuckles at my response, before stepping into the bathroom and closing the door behind him.

I lay back against the bed by the window and looked over the entire city.

As breathtaking as the sight was to behold, I was still hung up on Rhea. Why? Why her? Of all the people I could've hooked up with, it had to be fucking Ripley?

As disappointed as I was with myself, I couldn't help but look back at the encounter with a certain sense of reverie.

I'd never been touched like that.

None of the people I'd been with before had ever gotten me that close...I wonder what would've happened if I had just stayed there in that closet with her.

Before I could delve any deeper into my thoughts, I hear my phone go off once again and I already knew who it could be.

Unknown Number: Can't stop thinking about you, precious

God damn it, again with the nicknames.

Me: Rhea, please

Unknown Number: Please what?

Me: We can't do this

Unknown Number: Oh yes, we can

Unknown Number: The only person saying we can't is you

Me: You hurt my brother

Unknown: Hey, he decided to attack Dom, I couldn't just sit idle and let him

Me: Yeah, after the fact he slammed Jimmy with a chair

Unknown: Listen, I have no control over what the boys do

Unknown Number: Nor do I have control over who I want

A frigid chill run up my spine.

Unknown Number: What happened wasn't ideal, I get it

Unknown Number: So allow me make it up to you

Me: How?

Unknown Number: By picking up where we left off of course

Unknown Number: When I had you on the brink of cumming, before we were so rudely interrupted

It was getting harder and harder to resist her tempting.

Me: This is wrong

Unknown Number: Did it feel wrong? When you were begging me to make you unravel on my mouth?

Me: Rhea

Unknown Number: Tell me, when did the regret set in? Was it before or after my fingers found themselves inside you?

The pulsing sensation in my center began to intensify with every text she sent.

Unknown Number: You can lie to yourself all you want, darling

Unknown Number: But we both know that you want me just as much as I want you. I'm just making it easier by admitting it first

Unknown Number: Ball's in your court now, Uso

It took all the strength I had to resist, but it still wasn't enough. I ultimately caved, needing to feel her against me again.

Me: Where are you?

I just knew she was grinning like a wildcat on the other side of the phone.

Unknown Number: Location📍

The hotel she was staying at was only ten minutes away.

Me: Room?

Unknown Number: I'll be in the lobby to let you up. See you, beautiful ;)

I facepalm my forehead.

What was I doing? Once could've been a mistake, but twice? Now, this was betrayal.

Jey steps out of the bathroom, drying off his hair.

"Shower's free"

"Actually, I gotta go. Naomi wants to have a girl's night"

"For real?"

"Mhm", I hesitated,

He contemplates for a moment, before shrugging.

"Aight, just text me when you get there"

I let out a sigh of relief, before grabbing my phone and leaving.

Besides the obvious thoughts going through my head, all I could think about was how conflicted I felt. On one hand, family meant the world to me and out of all of them, Jey was who I was closest with...but on the other hand, there was Rhea. I didn't know what could transpire from this, but I guess I was just gonna have to find out.

Eventually, I got to her hotel and tried my best to avoid any paparazzi by keeping my head down and speed-walking into the lobby. I allow myself a moment to scan the room, before my eyes finally landed on her.

She was sat on one of the couches with elbows resting on her knees and scrolling through her phone.

With one last deep breath, I made my way towards her.

"Hello, there", she grinned,

Looking up at me, as she stood up.

"Hi", I greeted,

Avoiding her piercing gaze.

"I appreciate eye-contact, whilst speaking", she says,

Using my cheek to make me face her. I was already melting into her touch and blushing a bright red hue.

"D'you enjoy the ride?", she questioned,

Causing my eyes to widen.

"The car ride, darling", she teased,

She knew what she was doing.

"How about we get you upstairs?", she suggests.

I nod, as she took my hand and lead me to the elevators.

Once we were inside and the doors close us in, she pushes my hair aside and ducked her head into the crook of my neck, leaving wet kisses lingering on my skin.

"Couldn't stop thinking about earlier. I've never tasted anything better", she murmured,

Gripping my waist.

"R-Rhea", I whined,

Holding onto her shoulders. If the elevator doors hadn't opened just then, we would've had our way with each other right there. We rush towards her room and she uses my body to slam the door shut.

My hands creeping up into her hair, as her teeth tugged on my bottom lip.

I pull my sweater over my head, leaving me exposed to the cool air.

"Goodness", she exhaled,

Cupping the bottom of my breasts and licking my hardening buds. My skin was ablaze and my jaw drops with every moan that fell past my lips.

I go to pull my skirt down, when she stops me by my wrists.

"The skirt stays on"

Fuck, was I dripping.

"But...these need to go"

She reaches up and hooks her fingers around my waistband, yanking my underwear off and helping me out of them.

"I've already gotten a taste, now I need the whole show", she says,

Undoing the buttons of her jeans and revealing the toy already strapped around her waist. My eyes widen and she chuckles at my reaction.

"Like what you see, princess?"

"Y-Yes"

She bites back a smile and carried me to bed, before laying me out against the soft comforter.

"You're such a good girl when you aren't running your mouth", she praised,

Shoving her thumb into it, as I gladly accepted.

She then pulls it away and pressed it against my clit. A gasp rips out of me and my legs clench together, to which she pushes them apart and keeps them in place with her broad shoulders.

"Don't try escaping me now, you wanted this"

As she began rubbing firm circles on my bundle of nerves, my core dripped onto her ready palm.

"You are such an easy brat. All those time of you screaming at me, when you should've been screaming for me. All I had to do was put you in your place", she mocked over my moans.

Eventually, she pulled away and left me whining at the loss of contact.

"Patience"

She trips herself of her pants and tank top and the sight before me was something straight out of my wildest dreams. From her ample breasts, perfect waist and the sweat collecting on her fair skin, I was growing more and more desperate.

"As much as I love seeing you gawk at me, I think we should switch gears"

With one swift motion, she flips me onto my stomach and drags my ass into the air by my hips.

"This ass, babe. God", she mumbles,

Leaning down to place a gentle kiss on one cheek, before biting down hard and smacking the other.

I scream out, gripping the sheets.

Just then, I feel her rubbing the tip of the toy up and down my entrance, furthering the torture.

"How badly do you want this?"

"Please, I need you", I whined,

"Oh...you need this, huh? Think you've earned it?", she challenged,

Yanking me up against her by my throat, squeezing tight.

"Y-Yes, Mami, please!"

With one more wicked grin, she fills me to the hilt. The stretch burning, as I cried out into the air.

Her pace was immediately brutal and relentless, like the grip she had on my neck.

"Such a precious little thing", she praised,

Pounding repeatedly on my g-spot and causing stars to cloud my vision.

She'd been teasing me since the night began, so it should've come as no surprise to me when my walls had already begun pulsing around her.

"So good for me. So fucking good", she growled against my ear.

"I'm gonna cum, Mami, please!"

"Not till I say so"

"Please!"

"Keep whining and I'll make you wait even longer", she threatened.

Not wanting to face those consequences, I bite my tongue and held onto her hips for dear life, digging my nails into her flesh.

By this time, the room was nothing, but the smell of sex, sweat and tear-filled moans. The orgasm that I'd been chasing was now hounding me down and threatening to overwhelm me. It was getting harder to fight it off with each of her harsh thrusts.

I was just surprised we didn't get a noise complaint.

Once she was satisfied with how weak she had me, her hands reaches for my clit once more.

"You look so good this way. Fucked out and drenched in sweat and tears for me. Cum for me, darling. Show mami just how good she makes you feel"

That was the last thing I could make out, when the knot in my stomach finally snapped and pushed me over the edge.

All I could see was a rush of pure white, before falling limp on my stomach, out of breath and gasping for any air my lungs would allow.

She then pulls out of me and discards the toy from her hips. I was then picked up and placed delicately onto her bare chest.

"You did so good, darling", she muttered sweetly,

Wrapping her arms around me and pressing a kiss to my forehead.

Maybe...this wasn't such a bad idea.

I snuggled deeper into her embrace and she welcomed me in with a satisfied chuckle.

"Who knew beneath all that cold exterior was a soft little angel?", she jested,

Making me roll my eyes.

"I'm really glad you came. Well, in that sense, yes, but also you making the trip here", I interrupt with a playful smack to her shoulder.

"I wasn't too rough, was I?"

"It was perfect", I reassured,

Craning my head up to meet her lips.

"About your brother-"

"We don't have to talk about that"

"But we do"

She sits up, as I did the same, covering myself with the comforter.

"It’s always so easy to get caught up in messes, but that doesn't excuse what I did or let happen"

"I love my friends and I'd do anything for them...but not at the cost of someone like you. I've admired you since the day we met. Your passion, your drive and not to mention your everlasting beauty, it seems"

I couldn't help, but blush at her confession.

"Though I'm used to your fiery, protective side, I've also caught glimpses of your heart when I see you care for the people you love...I couldn't deny that"

"So I thought the best way to keep myself away from you was to make you hate me", she continued.

"Because I knew letting myself fall for you was betraying The Judgment Day, when lo and behold, you felt the same all along. We were always so consumed with putting other people first, that we forgot that our own happiness mattered too"

The more she spoke, the more it all made sense.

"And at some point, I couldn't hold back anymore...so I just let it happen. You can tell me that I'm wrong and that nothing that I said made sense, but I know, by that look in your eye, that I'm not"

By the end of her speaking, I was in tears, having felt so seen and understood. I gently cup her face in my hands, kissing her once more.

"You're not wrong", I sniffled,

Pulling back.

"I don't think I would've ever had the courage to say those things to your face"

"Of course, you would've. You're braver than you think"

[teapartyprincess4two]

Could you write about a random morning with Matt as his girlfriend? Sorry if I not making any sense.

Your writing is amazing!!! Have a wonderful day!!!

A Cold Sunday- M. Sturniolo

pairing: Girlfriend!reader x Boyfriend!Matt

classification: fluff

warnings: use of y/n, slight cursing, established relationship, a lot of dialogue, very short

inspiration: request^^, A Cold Sunday by Lil Yachty, just the title mostly

summary: You and Matt spend a cold Sunday morning together, snuggling up and keeping warm.

—

Every day of the week was chock full of activities for both you and Matt. Whether it be work, appointments, events, or daily chores; you two rarely had time together during the week. Even Saturdays were hectic for you both, you’d usually only get a few hours together before bed before one of you dozed off.

That’s why you loved Sundays, they were the only day neither you worked and you always made sure never to schedule anything on those days.

“Good morning, beautiful,” Matt croaks from beside you, a lazy arm wrapped around your waist from under the comforter. “Good morning, baby,” you reply, pushing his hair back and kissing his forehead.

“How did you sleep?” you ask, his eyes closing once again as the drowsiness settles back in. “Mmm good,” he hums, nuzzling into your chest slightly.

“That’s good, baby.”

You’re playing with his hair, your mind filling with ideas of what to do throughout the day. The possibilities were endless, especially because your only responsibility was to have fun with Matt.

“What do you wanna do today? We can go to the flea market, go eat some breakfast, or maybe we can try that new coffee shop,” you say in excitement, your cheery tone being too much for Matt this early in the morning.

“What about the mall? The mall could be fun. Ooo what if we have a picnic? We haven’t done that in so long,” you continue, subconsciously braiding strands of his hair as you compile a list of possible activities.

“It’s cold,” he murmurs, the statement being followed by a soft yawn.

Yawns are infectious, causing you to yawn shortly after. “Yeah, you’re right,” you reply, the yawn making it sound more like a roar.

“We can still do stuff…” he trails off, pulling away from you slightly to look at your face. You smile at him, you’re just happy to be spending time with him. “But we can stay in?” Matt suggests, loving the idea of a cozy day in.

You hum in response, already anticipating the cozy day ahead.

—

“Hurry, Matt! I’m cold!” you exclaim, lifting the comforter up so he can hop back into bed. “I can’t! The hot chocolate is gonna spill!” he shouts back, panicking as he tries balancing both mugs so none of the liquid spills over.

You groan playfully, scooting to the edge of the bed and reaching for a mug, “here let me help you, you goof.” He chuckles at the nickname, carefully handing you a mug, “be careful, it’s hot.”

“I know, I’m smart.”

You sip the hot chocolate, trying to prevent it from spilling, but the scorching liquid has you pulling away immediately, “Fuck! That’s hot!”

“I just said that,” Matt chuckles, getting comfortable under the covers and pressing play on the movie you two were previously watching. “Shush, it’s good,” you murmur, going back for a second sip.

You settle back against the headboard, sipping occasionally as you watch the movie. Matt blows on his hot chocolate, afraid to burn himself like you did.

He blows on it hard enough for the liquid to spill over the cup. “Oh fuck. I spilled it,” Matt says blankly, looking at you as he tries not to laugh.

—

“Why was that movie so sad?” Matt sniffles, rubbing the tears out of his eyes. You’ve seen the movie a million times before and each time Matt has the same reaction.

“Babe, you know how it ends. How does it still make you cry?” you ask, chuckling slightly at his dramatic behavior.

“Y/n, don’t be so heartless,” he replies, looking at you as if you’re some type of monster. “How does it still not make you cry?”

You take a sip from your hot chocolate, fighting the laughter. “It’s really not that sad,” you say, taking a hold of the remote to find your next watch of the day.

“YES IT IS!”

“Matt, it’s Toy Story.”

“AND? HE WAS JUST A FORK!”

—

You’ve laid in bed with Matt all day, and although you haven’t waisted any energy, you’re really hungry.

“Just order pizza,” you suggest, resting your head on Matt’s shoulder as he orders the food on his phone. “I don’t want pizza though,” he replies, scrolling through DoorDash in search of the next best option.

“Chinese food?” you ask, your stomach grumbling at the suggestion. “Neh, too greasy.”

“Okay, what about Cane’s?”

“Not in the mood for chicken,” he replies, exhausting all his options.

“In N Out?”

“We had burgers last Sunday,” Matt finds an excuse to turn down all of your suggestions. “Just get whatever you want,” you mumble, becoming hangrier by the second.

He stays silent for a while, searching relentlessly for something appetizing, but he can’t find anything.

“I’m just gonna order pizza,” he finally comments.

“Bruh.”

—

MASTERLIST

A/n:

Just a short story about a goofy morning with Matt. Enjoy, luv u. Longer stories coming soon, they are COOKING!

- L.A.M.B👼🏻💗

—

taglist: @nicksmainbitch @sturniololovers @mayhem-72 @worldlxvlys @gnxosblog @meg-sturniolo @creamoncreamoncream2 @mattnchrisworld @sanyi5 @lustfulslxt @whicked-hazlatwhore @tworosesblackthorn @mxqdii

note: if you want to be tagged in my fanfic related posts, you can access my TAGLIST and comment 💐

[himejoshiangels]

Duke Thomas fic rec list

I've scowered every tag relating to him, combed thru the 'duke centric tag' at least 8 times, this is what ive come back with, at least my personal faves

necessary reminders - duke pov, outsider pov, and some social media following duke as he gets used to his day job as a vigilante. flows really well, has a good balance of sad and happy, and gets dukes character rlly well

that which you cannot bear - THIS FIC WILL BREAK YYOU duke is kidnapped and its only down from there!! this is like, one of the first duke fics I read and it's still labeled as such in my mind. its well based, sooo cohesive plot wise, and stays completely in character w all its characters, especially duke, while exploring such an interesting facet of him > his tendency to self-isolate, insistence on being independent, and his stubbornness. sooo much good angst just incredible stuff while also staying hopeful and grounded. ALSO duke is an intelligent badass throughout the fic which is an important detail 2 me

signal, n. a divine act - same author as the last one, absolutely insane concepts are explored and its just so well written srsly it's like poetry. digs into some of dukes ideologies so well. if u like holy imagery??? kind of but not rlly?? ig you'll love this

this whole series is just so fucking incredible but something about my bodies made of crushed little stars I don't fucking know it messed w my brain chemistry, I've recced it b 4 bcs it made me cry but read the whole series, it's all duke centric and just so good. Saki writes bruce and duke in a way that fizzes u up w emotion and focuses on such unique facets of dukes character/dynamics and sleep well my little sunshine is soo cute and fun and soft >when earth finds the stars - bonus presignal duke and jason fic, balances being incredibly fun with a realistic zoom in on duke before we are robin. he's quippy and witty and always at the edge of his rope

not mutually exclusive - tired of bruce being kinda shoved into the role of dukes capital F father when that's not quite what their dynamic is? Then this is the fic for you!! Just good duke and Bruce interactions overall, it's sad and hilarious with just incredible dialogue and peak Bruce and Duke interactions

signals and symptoms - a classic sickfic and like one of my fave bruce bonding fic ever ever EVERRR!! really introspective abt dukes character and just so well done

even exchanges - some of u are gonna hate me for reccing an incomplete fic and esp one that doesn't look like it's gonna be finished anytime soon but even exchanges is so formative to my duke characterizationalong with portraying such a fascinating dynamic w him and his new family. it delves into his messy and angsty experiences pre-becoming the signal and is overall written like several subsequent punches to the stomach. promise ur gonna bitch and moan about this fic as much as I do

scientific method - extremely cute fic, watch Duke bond w the bats and slowly get more comfortable with them over time as they all tru to figure out what the fuck this guys powers are. Really fun dynamic wise, the dialogue is crafty and captures the familiarity between the characters. Really realistic about day to day vigilante life and how genius the bats truly are. really slice of life fluffy shit w some bonus sciencey stuff

turn my voice human torch remind people what I’m fantastic for - truly a classic, Duke invites cass to slam poetry night. short n sweet I LOVE BUMBLEBATS RAHHHHHH

tradition - pure duke n bruce ice cream fluff

meal prep - real sad angst one shot ft. alfred

occupational health and safety violations - duke pov reverse robins but it's way out of order

write about flowers (at a time like this) - duke and dick fic where they meet pre we are robin. yes I just found this one yesterday yes I'm absolutely obsessed. it characterizes him so well and understands his thought process and motives and UGHH just tune in yall

sidequest: the viper pit - WE ARE ROBIN DND JUMANJI

signals of fear and hope - duke centric reverse robins, caters TTOME specifically it's so fire

and now here are fics that arent duke centric but he's in it and in character/well written and now forced into the back of the room aka some of my general faves that feature duke

gotham aviary - the batman fic where he just adopts a bunch of em truly adorable like the cutest thing you'll read

I walk the streets at night (with monsters in my mind) - dragon fic, absolutely goated 10/10

fight, flight - cass centric but duke plays a big role, they mean everything to me

[sailoryooons]

Red | KNJ | (m)

☾ Pairing: Werewolf!Namjoon x f. reader

☾ Summary: For as long as you can remember, your village has been relatively normal. But when people begin to turn up dead right after a group of newcomers arrive, pieces of your past start to fall into place, and something feels familiar - particularly the quiet man who can't take his eyes off of you.

☾ Word Count: 21,148

☾ Genre: Supernatural, thriller, smut

☾ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately. 

☾ Warnings: Fantasy violence, light depections of murder and animal attacks, mentions of gore, discussions about community displacement and violence, Yoongi is an asshole, animal attacks, depictions of blood, tbh reader and Namjoon don’t know each other THAT well when they fuck so idk, implied protecting from a far but not in a stalker way, explicit language, intense sequences of fear and anxiety, reader is attacked by a wolf, there is a mention of animals being hurt/killed but not in explicit details, dead bodies, arson, sexually explicit content invluding vaginal fingering, nipple play, vaginal penetration, a little bit of mention of fluids but not really. 

☾ Published: Sunday, January 21 2024

☾ A/N: I wish I could explain to you how this got to be so long. I wrote it over several weeks and each day I picked it back up, I just kept adding dialogue and scenery and setting. Like half of this isn’t even Namjoon and reader reacting - what was I doing? I wish I knew! I hope you like my spin on Red Riding Hood anyway! I tried to do this in a way that it doesn’t seem creepy that Namjoon was silently looking out for reader but like… I could understand if someone finds it creepy I am so sorry lmfao.  I did read through this to edit but I 100% missed stuff because I'm a rougher editor and this is unbeta'd.

☾ A/N 2: This is a Red Riding Hood Retelling that is similar in vibe to the 2011 Red Riding Hood movie directed by Catherine Hardwicke.

 Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

| Masterlist | Ask | Make Me Your Villain Collab | Taglist

Father always said not to go into the woods at night. Like him, though, the woods have always called to you, feeling like a second home. You’ve never been able to explain it, and you’ve stopped trying to. 

It’s a little chilly outside, the first breath of harvest air nipping at your skin. In a few weeks, it will be freezing outside, forcing you into cloaks and furs. 

Grass crunches beneath your feet as you slip through the small yard and toward the tree line. Your house already sits at the edge of the village, the dark trees stretching high above the rooftops. Soon the trees will be dusted in snow, but for now, they sway gently in the autumn breeze, turned silver by the moonlight. 

You’ve always loved the woods. The sounds of the crickets singing and rabbits dashing underfoot are calming, the smell of sticky pine and fresh air invigorating. You especially love them at night, hidden beneath boughs and walking through the shafts of moonlight that slip through the trees. 

The best part is that you don’t feel so alone out here. There is a feeling you cannot place each time you enter the woods, like you’re a little closer to discovering yourself. You’ve been chasing that feeling since you were a little girl, hungry for finding whatever it is that drives you out here. 

Hands tucked into your pockets, you walk the same route you always follow. It isn’t deep into the woods - you aren’t silly enough to believe you’re safe alone in the dark - but it’s enough of a walk to clear your head. 

Howls echo up into the night, a wolf pack on their hunt. The sound of them makes the hair on your arms stand on end.

The wolves don’t come very close to the village anymore since the vicious wolf hunts when you were barely old enough to remember them. The relationship between the men of your home and the wolves in the wood is violent, a chill cooling your skin every time they’re mentioned by one of your neighbors. 

A terrible howl splits the night. You feel your body go cold with fear, warmth leaching out of you as you press yourself against a tree, heart in your throat. The sound is something like a howl laced with utter anguish, chilling you down to the marrow. It tapers off into a whimper before falling silent again. 

Pressed against the tree, you wait. Your heart is beating so harshly that it feels like you might vomit in fear. Soft whimpering drifts on the wind. You hold your breath and strain your ears. It almost sounds like an injured dog.

It tugs at your heartstrings. You bite your lip, weighing your options. The noise sounded like it came from the south a little off of your path and toward the ravine that splits the part of the woods that is relatively safe from the deeper part where the animals are more lethal and more frequent. You could easily find your way back if you made it to the ravine, and as the whimpering vanishes entirely, you can’t help but imagine an animal in pain. 

The most difficult part about working with Dr. Kim at the veterinary clinic is always the animals that he can’t fix. You’ve held the hands of loved ones who couldn’t save their aging dogs, and you’ve hushed lame horses as Dr. Kim prepared draughts to send them to sleep and then to death. 

Pivoting, you turn and march toward the initial sound. It may perhaps be the single worst idea you’ve ever had, but you suddenly don’t care. You’ve worked with Dr. Kim enough to know how to triage animal wounds, and the thought of leaving something alone and suffering replaces any sort of fear you originally had. 

You’re careful not to lose your footing as the ground slopes steadily as you get closer to the ravines and canyons of the south side. Leaves shift underneath your feet as you go. It feels overly loud in a forest that is suddenly so quiet, only filled with the softest sound of labored breathing.

A small dip in the ground catches you off guard. You gasp, a scream stuck in your throat as you lose your footing and slide down the slope, your back and ass hitting the ground hard as you slide, leaves hissing underneath you. You scramble to grab a hold of something, but the hill isn’t very high and you hit the bottom of it quickly.

Heart pounding, you lay in the damp leaves for a second, panting, hand pressed to your heart as it rattles under your palm. Just as the fear settles down, a growl makes your blood run cold. Slowly, you begin to turn your face toward the left. You realize you’ve slid down a dell, and a few yards from you is a large, shivering form covered in fur.

You blink. Once. Twice. You realize that the large mound of fur is a creature - a wolf. It lays on the ground shaking, a ride of jet black hair standing up on its spine, hackles raised. The wolf’s ears are pinned back and its yellow eyes are wild, nearly consumed by the dark pupils drinking you in. Its teeth are bared, foam and drool lining pink gums as it snares, nose twitching. 

It’s the biggest wolf you’ve ever seen. You can’t move. You can only stare at it, wondering why it continues to snarl and stare at you, but not move. Your eyes rove its trembling form from maw to tail, and you realize its front leg is wet and held at an odd angle.

“Oh,” you gasp, realizing that the wolf’s foot is stuck in a claw trap. “I’m so sorry. I… can I help you?”

The wolf stops growling for a moment as if it understands. You stare with wide eyes, not daring to move as it assesses you. It leans toward you and sniffs, the sound of snuffing loud in the silence of the dell. For a few moments, you just watch as the beast regards you. 

Then, it chuffs and looks at its own foot, whining. You sit up slowly in amazement. The creature watches you with what you can only describe as a caution. You get up carefully and make your way toward the wolf. It watches your every movement. It can surely smell your fear as you get a few feet away, crouching down with your hands held out to let it know you’re not going to cause harm. 

You pause, waiting for permission to examine the wolf’s foot. It gazes at you and for a moment, you lose yourself in that burning, golden gaze. The wolf’s eyes are so human that it’s hard to see it as a simple beast. There is something alive and intelligent there.

As if sensing that you’re waiting for the all-clear, the wolf chuffs and lowers its head toward its foot, gesturing. You smile a little at that, marveling at the communication skills. Carefully, you look at the trap around the wolf’s foot. It’s a metal contraption that is pressure-engaged, with metal teeth. You cringe seeing the red on matted fur and metal.

“You must have stepped on the pressure plate,” you tell the wolf, though it probably doesn’t understand. You gesture to the round plate at the center of the trap. “It would have been in a circle and when stepped on, snapped closed like jaws.”

The wolf whines and bows its head. You wince. “They’re really strong,” you admit, chewing on your lip. “I don’t think I can pull it apart all the way, but I might be able to open it enough just for a moment for you to pull out your leg. Can you do that?” 

A huff. Somehow, you think if it could, the wolf might roll its eyes. Your mouth twitches in an almost smile as you get onto your knees, wiping sweaty hands on your pants. This close to the beast, you realize just how large it is. 

“This is going to hurt,” you insist. “Please… Please don’t bite me, okay? I want to help you.” 

The wolf lowers its head until it's lying on the ground, gold eyes watching you. Its muscles are tense and the hair along the ridge of its back is still standing, afraid and alert. 

“Okay. I’m just… I’m just going to touch the trap and try to get a grip first, okay?” The wolf doesn’t answer. It blinks at you, waiting. Licking your lips, you whisper, more to yourself than anything, “Okay, I can do this.”

Slowly, you reach out toward the wolf’s injured foot. You flick your gaze over to the wolf looking for a reaction. It just watches you, though you feel tension. The metal is wicked cold to the touch. You hiss and the creature flinches a little, a whistle-whine escaping its nose. You mutter an apology, fingers pressing to the ridges of the cold metal. 

It’s slippery with blood. You chew on your lip, prodding your finger in the space between the metal teeth on the edges where it’s not clamped around the wolf’s paw. You wiggle your finger a little, testing the strength of the closed jaws of the trap. It doesn’t budge and you curse. 

Sweat beads on the back of your neck, freezing in the cool air. You lift your other hand, very carefully trying to find a good grip on either side of the jaws to pry them open. The movement jostles the trap a little, the wolf snarling in pain. You flinch and rip your hands away, looking at it. Gold eyes burn and the wolf huffs, as though telling you to be more careful.

“Sorry,” you mutter. “I’m nervous and it’s hard to get a grip on it.” The wolf snorts. You glare at it. “I’m sorry, do you want to do this instead?” Your only answer is a rumble as it looks the other direction. “That’s what I thought.”

Sighing, you turn your attention back to the metal. Anyone a little stronger and older could probably pull it open. Seokjin for sure could - even Hoseok who is as old as you are, but plenty stronger. You try not to think about how weak you are, and instead wiggle your fingers through the gaps in the teeth.

The cool metal stings your hands. It’s not a great grip and your fingers are placed in bad positioning due to the teeth of the trap. Taking in a big breath, you try to pull the metal jaws apart. 

Nothing happens and you let your breath out, panting lightly as you stop trying to pull. The wolf flicks its tale but makes no other sound. With the way you’re gripping the jaws, you realize that pulling it apart is going to be difficult. It would rely on your forearms to peel the metal jaws backward… But if you were to push down and push apart, you could use your body weight as an extra boost. It would be pushing the jaws apart from above instead of trying to pry them apart with sheer strength.

Leaning high on your knees, you position yourself straight over the trap, your weight settling in on your forearms. You take another deep breath and this time when you pull, you push your weight down on the trap. For a second, it seems like it’s not going to give. You hiss through your teeth, muscles clenching, fingers burning as your skin presses against the metal as hard as you can stand it.

Then, the jaw opens a little. You grind your teeth harder, the ache in your arms growing as you push as hard as you can. Your forearms are trembling. You feel the vein throbbing in your neck and forehead. Just when you think you’re going to fail, the jaws give way again. You growl, feeling a surge of energy go through you at the small victory and you shove your body weight down on it hard. The springs creak a little and open more.

Little by little, the trap opens up. Your vision pulses red as you pant, strength waning. And then it’s like you hit the let-off point of the contraption, pushing it enough that the rest of the way it just falls open. You let go of the trap and the wolf yanks its leg from it. It now lies open and bloody as you collapse on the ground next to it, breathing hard, breath misting the air. 

Your heart beats in your ears, pulse thrumming in your neck wildly. For a second, you forget all about the wolf. You laugh up to the dark trees, a giddy feeling shooting through you. You did it, even though you didn’t think you would be able to. 

A dark presence alerts you. Slowly, you turn your head to face the wolf. It’s standing almost above you, looking more imposing than it did before. You swallow hard, mouth going dry as it blinks down at you. It favors the injured leg, but stands nonetheless, watching you. 

“Please don’t kill me,” you whisper, limbs trembling not only with exhaustion but fear. 

The wolf doesn’t kill you at all. Instead, it leans its head down and presses its cold, wet nose to your arm. You flinch, squeezing your eyes shut for a minute. Then the beast chuffs, making you peak at it. When you meet its gold eyes, you get the sense it is vaguely amused.

“Oh,” you breathe, relief sagging your aching body. “Cool. You’re not going to kill me.”

Standing, you realize that the wolf is still taller than you. You tilt your head upward, staring. There’s no way this is a normal creature, but you don’t know what else it could possibly be. You recall the legends of werewolves and dire wolves told by the men of your town, but you’re unsure if those are real. 

“Let’s take care of this,” you mutter, grabbing a branch and jamming it into the pressure plate of the trap. It snaps shut with a loud clang, snapping the branch, but otherwise ineffective now that it’s re-sprung. The wolf flinches and whines at the sound, no doubt remembering the feeling of the instrument on its leg. “Sorry.” 

Silence stretches out over the woods, the night growing deeper and cooler. You shiver, rubbing your hands up and down your arms as you turn to the wolf, which watches you keenly. 

“Will you be okay?” the question comes out as a whisper. The wolf huffs and steps forward, pressing its snout to your head. It’s cold and wet, making you shiver as it snuffs against your skin. “Good. I um - should start climbing this hill.”

It swivels its head and turns, waiting. You grin, realizing it will accompany you back up, at least. Though injured, the wolf is able to walk with three legs, the wounded leg lifted off the ground. Its gait is awkward and hobbled, but the two of you make it up the hill together, your breathing labored. 

At the top, moonlight shines through the trees and you both pause. A series of howls goes up in the night, startling you. The wolf looks up, ears twitching as it tilts its head, listening. Slowly, it turns to look at you, gold eyes sparkling. 

“I guess you have to go, huh?” it bows its head once. “Stay safe, okay?” 

The wolf steps forward. Presses its muzzle into your temple and huffs, making you grin. You smell pine and bergamot, pleasant and calming. “Yeah, you’re welcome.” 

Slowly, the wolf clambours off, vanishing into the dark woods, leaving you to hurry home yourself. 

-

“Wear this at all times for protection, especially in the forest,” you murmur, holding the neatly scrawled note. You frown and look down at the fine cloak folded on the dresser. It had appeared overnight as if by magic, a funny feeling flipping your stomach. “Where did you come from?”

The cloak, of course, has no answer. You lift your hand to feel it, breathing out a dreamy sigh. The inside is lined with soft bear fur. Outside is some of the finest cloth you’ve ever seen, gentle but sturdy to the touch and dyed the most delicious shade of scarlet. 

Carefully, you lift the cloak. It’s a little big for your size, but not unwearable. You slip it over your sleeping gown, loving the way the material ripples like blood over your shoulders, the fur lining keeping you warm. It smells like pine and bergamot, making you pause. 

Certainly, a wolf did not bring you a cloak. Still, the timing is quite odd. You don’t know who else could possibly make a cloak so fine in the village, and the smell… you shake your head. A wolf did not bring you a cloak, but it did seem perhaps you had a secret admirer. 

-

THIRTEEN YEARS LATER

“Boo!” You scream and drop the collection of logs in your hands, whirling around. Hoseok bursts into laughter, doubling over as he slaps his hands against his knees, hot breath misting the air. “You should see your face!”

“You rotten bastard!” You growl, picking up a log and throwing it at him. It doesn’t hit him, but he jumps away from it anyway, careful not to let it drop on his toes. “That isn’t funny!”

“It’s a little funny.”

“It’s not!” You crouch down and start picking up the timber. Hoseok at least has the decency to help you, starting with the log you threw at him. “There was another animal attack last night, in case you didn’t know.” 

That makes him pause. “There was?”

“Yes,” you hiss, snatching the last log and standing. “So stop lurking around corners and scaring me. It isn’t funny.” 

“Well, an animal isn’t going to attack you in the village. Unless you’re talking about Mingyu’s fiancee, anyway. That one is feral indeed.” 

You level Hoseok with a look and he gives you a grin. His nose and ears are red from the cold - and maybe a little guilt for scaring you - and he offers to take the timber from your arms. You let him, shoveling it over to him and marching around the front of your house. 

Wind howls between the houses, ripping at the ends of your red cloak. It catches your hood, throwing it up over your head as you shiver and tuck your hands into the fur lining. A shiver rattles up your spine as you kick the snow from your boots and rush inside, Hoseok quick on your heels. 

“So what happened?” Hoseok asks, following you to your room. 

“The Matheson Family,” you mumble. “They were attacked. San went down to collect new saddles his father ordered and found them slaughtered - their hounds too.” 

“They have hunting hounds - what the hell can kill those?”

“Perhaps it’s the wolves again. Dr. Kim was going with the city council to investigate.” 

Hoseok sighs. “The timing isn’t good. It’s about time the traders arrived. What if they bypass us entirely if the road is too dangerous?”

It’s a thought that has been plaguing everyone in the village. Because of the remote location on the north side of the woods, your small spec on the map relies on traders at the beginning of every winter for things that you’ll need to make it through: salt, extra grain and fruits, tools too advanced and large for the local smithy, repairs on houses and wagons. 

Arrival times of traders fluctuate every year. Sometimes there’s a cold snap, burying roads in heavy snow that are unnavigable. Other times, there is unrest in the woods when a rogue band of thieves gets the idea to rob travelers and hide in the woods until the city council sends a team of men to deal with it. 

Now, though, it’s getting into the late period of their arrival. The entire village holds its breath waiting for them, people looking out the open gates down the snowy road hoping to see a courier come ahead to announce the arrival of wagons and troupes of people. 

“Do you really think it’s wolves?” Hoseok asks. “I don’t think I’ve heard of wolf attacks like this since…” 

Hoseok winces. “It’s fine,” you assure him with a smile. “It’s not like I remember that time, much less remember my dad.” 

It’s true. Early memories of your childhood are murky at best. You remember being happy and loving your dad. You remember a period of fear and general uneasiness in the town, wolf attacks rampant and frequent. There had been plenty of men and women who died during that period, including your father.

That was a long time ago, though. For the most part, life in your small village is uninteresting. Some winters are harder than others, like the current season, but you’ve always managed to get by. 

“Do you remember much of that time period?” you ask him quietly. 

“Not really. Just that everyone was afraid. It was a really harsh winter and it drove wolves down from the mountains. I remember it being strange.”

“Strange how?” 

You chew your lip and shake your head, trying to encapsulate the thread of memory you have. Of feeling the tremor of fear in the air, the cold feeling of dread… like something violent was in the village. Something wrong.

“I don’t know. I was so young.”

“Hmm.” 

The talk of wolves makes you think about your wolf. Your lips curve at the memory of how gentle the wolf was, the somber eyes, and the smell of pine and bergamot. 

It would be a lie to say you had not gone out to the woods several times since that night to try and find the beast again. You haven’t seen him since, but you’ve always had a feeling he’s there somewhere. Watching. Waiting. 

“Either way,” Hoseok sighs. “Dad seems worried this winter will be like that time. He’s been doing a lot of will and testament papers at the office. He works late every night and is gone early in the morning.” 

“Really?”

“Want to hear what Mr. Hillshire is leaving for his kids?” Hoseok leans forward, conspiratorial. “You won’t believe it.” 

-

The bell over the door rings as someone enters the salon of Dr. Kim’s veterinary practice, drawing your attention. You straighten when you see San walk in.

“Hi, San,” you greet. “Here to pick up Maple?” 

“Yeah, is that alright? Mom is busy at the shop.” 

“Of course.” You wipe your sweaty hands on your skirts and gesture behind you with your thumb. “I’ll go fetch her. Dr. Kim is on an errand but she’s ready to go.” 

The back of the building with the kennels is quiet. The Choi family cat and two other sleeping dogs are the only occupants of the practice, making it an easy day. Maple is dozing in her kennel, chirping in protest when you open the cage and scoop her into a carrier. She’s a lazy thing, a calico with pretty eyes and a newly stitched ear. 

Carefully you carry her up front. San is standing patiently in the lobby, hands behind his back as he looks around nervously. You raise your brows as you come around the counter, handing over the carrier. “Everything okay?”

“Hmm?”

“You look nervous. It’s just me and the Lowells’ hounds back here.” 

“Oh, yes.” His ears blush pink as he accepts the carrier and steps back. “Just a nervous energy in general. I have been since um…”

Oh. You had forgotten that it was San who discovered the Matheson family disemboweled by some kind of animal. The constable had thought that maybe it was a pack of wolves but was concerned by how big the claw marks and destruction were. 

“I’m sorry,” you blurt.

“For what?”

“That you had to see that, I guess? It must have been terrifying.”

“A little,” he admits, looking at his shoes. “I walked the path to the Mathesons all the time. I don’t ever recall seeing something that could… do that.”

“Was it that awful?” 

He nods. “Like nothing I’ve ever seen. Don’t get me wrong, I go on hunting parties. We’ve seen the leftovers from bears and wolves. This was something worse. It felt like…” He shakes his head and looks up at you. “It felt angry.”

“Angry?”

“Yeah. I know that doesn’t make sense. It was probably just a beast coming down from the mountain because it was starving. You know how harsh winters are.” 

You hum in agreement. 

San dismisses himself, thanking you again for helping with the family cat and throwing a wave over his shoulder. You return it half-heartedly, already distracted with thoughts of what the animal attacks could mean.

You think about your wolf and how kind and intelligent it was. You don’t remember ever feeling a sense of impending doom like you do now, a heaviness to the air as you stand idly behind the counter. 

Dr. Kim's return startles you at the counter. You press your hands flat against the top of the desk, leaning up on your tiptoes as you see his son Seokjin enter behind him. Your heart flutters a little at the sight, still overwhelmed by his handsome face. 

Seokjin is tall and broad, with dark hair and a beautiful face. His sharp eyes find you and he gives you a half smile, though there seems to be something on his mind as he follows his father into the backroom, Dr. Kim barely saying hello as he goes, his brows furrowed in deep thought.

The two of them disappear and you watch the door swing shut behind them. Curious, you trail around the counter and softly walk over to the door, pulling it open a smidge.

It’s difficult to pick up on their words, but you can hear Dr. Kim’s timbre speaking in low tones from somewhere in the backroom. You hold your breath and wedge the door open a little more, pressing your ear toward the gap between the frame and the door. 

“... again. They’re going to want to start hunting parties again soon.”

“So what do we do?”

Silence. Then, “Send a message….”

“... brought it on themselves… it’s time to make things right.” 

Behind you, the bell rings at the door. You gasp, letting go of the door to the back room and spin around, heart hammering in your chest. Hoseok stands at the door, raising his brows in question. 

“What are you doing here?” you demand, suddenly angry that he’s startled you and ruined your sleuthing.

“I promised your mom I would walk home with you at the end of your shift, remember? Dangerous out there.” 

You blink and look out the window, realizing that the heavy gray of evening is setting over the road. You hadn’t realized it was so late. 

Nodding, you grab your cloak in a hurry. You pop your head into the back room, both Seokjin and Dr. Kim looking at you as you do. “I’m leaving for the evening, sir. Is there anything else you need?”

“No, thank you for watching the place while I was gone. Tomorrow we have to make a house call to the Marrow farm. Lame horse.”

Seokjin frowns. “Do you think that is wise?” Dr. Kim looks at his son under heavy brows. “With the current conditions.” 

“We’ll be fine.” Something passes between them, son and father locked in a heated gaze. You stand there awkwardly, glancing between the two.

Seokjin breaks his stare from his father and flashes you a grin. “You have someone to walk you home?”

“Yeah, Hoseok is here.” You hug the cloak tighter to your chest and Seokjin’s eyes drop to it. An unreadable expression passes his face before he nods. “Have a good evening!”

“You too.”

Leaving them behind, you head to where Hoseok waits for you, examining drawings of animal skeletons and anatomy. You pull your cloak on, feeling safe and warm under the red material. Hoseok looks up at you, thrusting his thumb at one of the drawings of a horse. “I don’t look like that, right?” 

-

The red cloak tied around you wicks the sweat from the back of your neck. Your fingers work quickly as you tie it, knowing you’re already late to meeting Dr. Kim. Thankfully, you don’t make a habit of being late and you’re sure he won’t mind too much.

Strange dreams had plagued you all night. Images of wolves, blood and mist. Echoes of howling, screaming and thunder. Now as you hurry out of your home and into the wicked wind of winter, you cannot shake a sense of premonition.

Dr. Kim is already on the doorstep when you arrive at the veterinary office, a heavy coat on his shoulders and a bag of tools in his hand. He nods when he sees you and comes down the steps, turning toward the south exit of the village. 

Neither of you speak. Beyond the fact that you don’t think you’d be able to hear Dr. Kim over the howling wind, it doesn’t feel like the kind of trip that requires speaking. The evergreens on either side of the road loom over you, bows heavy with snow. Every so often, a branch cracks with the weight of frozen icicles, making you flinch with the sound.

It feels like you’re being watched. Every so often, you swivel your head this way and that, glancing at the trees. The trunks are too close together and the branches to tangle to see beyond them on either side of the road. Still, your skin tingles from something beyond the cold, you just don’t know what. 

The Marrow farm is only a little over a mile from the main village, but the snow covered roads make it slow going. As you near the edge of where their acres begin, your boots are already heavy with melted slush and your calves and thighs burn from dragging your feet through the path. 

Perhaps it was not a good day to do a house call. 

Passing white-covered gates, you’re thankful that at least the wind has died down as the morning turns into midday. The sun is hidden by clouds, but there is a hint of warmth in the air. The Marrow farm is made up of three buildings: the small house in front, the large barn to the back left where they keep their animals, and a giant silo for grains. 

As you near the house, a loud banging reaches you. Both you and Dr. Kim pause, listening as the sound carries on the wind. It doesn’t sound like hammering, but rather like a door slamming over and over again. 

“Barn door?” you suggest, looking up at Dr. Kim. His dark eyes look at the house, expression grim. “But why would they let it slam relentlessly?” 

“Keep your wits about you,” he murmurs, ignoring your question. “Go to the main house. I’ll go round to the barn. Perhaps they’ve forgotten the appointment.”

No smoke comes from the chimney. No snow is cleared from the footpath to the door. The shutters are closed, which makes sense to keep the cold out. As you approach the steps leading up to the porch, you note that none of the hounds are baying. The Marrow’s have several bloodhounds, all of which keep noisy providence around the threshold of the door. 

Spine tingling, you lift your hand and knock. There’s no answer. You strain your ears, leaning forward for any hint that the Marrow’s or one of their two sons are coming to the door. Not even the dogs alert them of your presence. 

You think about San finding the Mathesons butchered and your stomach drops. You knock again, knuckles stinging with cold as they rap harshly against the wooden door. Tucking your hand back into your cloak, you wait. 

Nothing comes. 

Taking a deep breath, you reach for the door and twist the handle. It opens easily, swinging inward to a cold, empty home. Inside, the air is still and dead. Behind you, the breeze brushes the edges of your cloak and the hood on your head. 

Silence hangs. Licking your lips, you lift a foot. It hands over the threshold, fear making you pause. There is nothing inside the home, and yet you find that you’re utterly terrified of stepping inside. Your stomach knots and for a few moments, you just stand there with your foot in the air, staring with unseeing eyes into the dark interior. 

You step into the room and pause. Nothing happens. The air inside the home is stale, like the doors and windows have not been opened for a few days. The cold is bone deep, clinging to the undisturbed air. You scan the room for any sign of life, but see nothing that stirs. 

Everything looks lived in. There are knitted blankets tossed across the backs of old arm chairs, boots by the door, unlaced and soft with age. Mugs have been turned upside down and placed on a towel near the basin for drying, and there are dice on the kitchen table. 

Navigating slowly, you move to the hall with bedrooms. Doors hang open, revealing unmade beds and clothes on the floor. Here too, the air feels undisturbed. You hear the breeze outside and the soft creak of the house, but nothing else makes a sound, save for the loud beating of your own heart. 

Shivering, you make your way to the front of the home. Something foul hangs in the air and you want to be rid of the feeling, quickening your steps to leave through the front door and-

Fear stabs deep into your stomach when you see the wolf standing in the doorway. It stands half in the home, half out, only the front two paws over the threshold. The beast barely fits in the door frame, wide as two men standing side by side and tall as a horse. 

You don’t move. It stares at you with bright, burning eyes. Its fur is dark, though there is a jagged ring of light fur around the right, front paw. You swear you smell pine and bergamot. Something nudges at the back of your mind as the two of you stand off - and it clicks into place.

“You,” you breathe. “You’re the wolf I helped!” 

For a moment, the bright yellow eyes stare at you. They’re unreadable, and yet… emotive. Intelligent. Understanding. The wolf dips its snout in a nod. 

“What are you doing here? Where are the Marrows?” 

The wolf’s ears flicker. Slowly, it backs out of the house. Throwing caution to the wind, you rush after him, nearly tripping over a wolfskin rug in the home.

Outside, the wolf stands below the porch. You step on the porch and pull up short, heart racing as you see the pack of wolves standing in front of the home.

The wolves are a variety of colors and sizes. You dare not move your head, but you scan them with your eyes, drinking in the different creatures. The only thing that they have in common is that they are freakishly large. 

Your wolf - for in your mind he’s yours - stands in front of you. He growls, hair on his spine raising as he regards the other wolves. There’s a silent standoff of sorts, the wolf you saved facing the others. You cannot understand their body language, but the air seems charged. 

The smell of smoke is in the air. You don’t dare look for the source, too afraid to do anything to disrupt the standoff. Breathing in deeply, you think you smell cedar. Oil. Something else that you can’t identify. 

Footsteps crunch the snow. You whip your head to the side, a warning on your tongue as Dr. Kim rounds the house, a haunted expression on his face. He stops abruptly, looking at the display in front of him behind frosted glasses. He says nothing - does nothing but glance between you, the wolf in front of you, and the others. 

Finally, one of the other wolves chuffs and shakes, dispelling snow. It has an all white coat and intense, dark eyes that look at you with… annoyance, if wolves can look annoyed. It turns to leave and the others follow - all five of them - as the white wolf leads them at a loping trot toward the silo and the woods beyond.

Your wolf turns to peer at you, ears flicking before it breaks off into a run, trailing after its pack to leave you and Dr. Kim standing in silence, watching them go. 

Slowly, you turn to Dr. Kim. He scrutinizes you, eyes squinted. “Where did you get that cloak?” 

You look down at the rich, red cloth. “I… well it just appeared, one day when I was younger. I don’t know.”

He regards you suspiciously. “I see. Come. We must leave right away.”

Dr. Kim begins walking at a fast pace back toward town, clutching his tool case. “Wait! Where are the Morrows?” 

Instead of answering, Dr. Kim continues on. You scramble after him, careful not to slip on the icy stairs. The wind picks up and you smell a fire again, making you turn back as you try to catch up. You almost stumble over your feet, eyebrows shooting up as you see orange flames consuming the barn. 

“Dr. Kim!”

Again, he says nothing. You stop and stare, watching as the fire eats away at the barn. The smoke burns black. Fueled by oil, you think. Looking over your shoulder, you watch Dr. Kim’s retreating back and wonder what exactly it is that he’s done. 

“Did you set that fire?” you demand, chasing him. He gives you a withering look. “What is going on?”

“Speak nothing of this,” he snaps. “We arrived here to make a housecall and discovered that the barn was on fire. We suspect that Mr. Marrow was burning to melt the snow around the barn and that the barn caught. The Marrow family died inside trying to put out the fire.”

“But the wolves-”

“Do not mention the wolves, girl.”

“Did they kill the Marrows?” His jaw works but he doesn’t answer. “Did they kill the Mathesons?” 

“This village has a complicated history,” he says finally. He pulls his coat tighter. “I don’t expect you to understand, but I do expect you to stay out of it. Say nothing of the wolves and stay away from them. You’ll make it through winter.”

-

Two weeks pass, the secret heavy on your tongue. You work with Dr. Kim as though nothing happened, and when people ask about the Marrow farm, you recite vague details. You don’t know why you do it but… the image of the wolf - your wolf - floats in your mind each time you spit out the lie. 

Thoughts plague you as Hoseok lounges on the porch of the office that belongs to Hoseok’s father, who acts as the town’s scribe and legal affairs recorder. A sudden warm day has brought everyone outdoors, lounging on their porches and trying to take advantage of the melting snow around the buildings. The streets are muddy and murky as kids run by, feet splashing. 

A group of men prowl around the outskirts of the village. Sun shines through the slats of the overhang in front of the inn, warming where you lean on the porch railing. Hoseok rattles on about gossip he’s heard from his mother’s tea parties and his father’s work on will and testaments with the growing fear of death in the village. 

“Plagues, serial killings, blood feuds and animal attacks,” Hoseok sighs, staring up at the ceiling where he lies. “Good for father’s business. Bad for my cramping hand trying to help him.” 

“Hmm,” you hum noncommittally, thoughts lost as you stare out into the street with unseeing eyes.

Shouts make you flinch. You stand rod straight, gripping the railing as you look for the source of the disruption. Hoseok stands up immediately, joining you at the railing as the pair of you lean to look toward the entrance to the town. 

At first, you think that it’s about another wolf attack. People rush into the street, looking toward the commotion. Then you see it. Gleeful cheers spring up to the buildings closest to the town’s entrance as the first few traders enter the road. Your heart soars when you see donkeys pulling a cart behind them, followed by more people carrying packs and towing small carts. 

“The traders!” You breathe, feeling a sigh of relief sweep through you. “They’ve made it!” 

Excitement ripples through the village. People come flocking from the buildings to welcome cart after cart full of people. Some traders tow full carriages with riders at the front, the shutters on their carriages tied shut, hiding their wares inside. 

Hoseok lounges back down, letting out a sigh of relief. You feel the same, leaning on the railing again to watch as the carts are towed down the road, pulling down different streets to set up shop and find accommodations. 

Most of the traders look vaguely familiar to you - you see the Robin’s with their cloth cart and Morty with his towering carriage of unusual wares and charms. The Yang twins set off small, popping fireworks from the back of their cart, making the children squeal. 

Something catches your eye. “There are more traders than usual,” you tell Hoseok, frowning as your eyes settle on the large men who walk among the carts, all of whom wear weapons belts and look from side to side as they walk. “I think they’re warriors, Hoseok.”

“Warriors?” he laughs. “Strange.”

“No really, there are several men with blades at the hip and bows on the back. They look… guarded.”

He tilts his head, eyeing where your eyes flit from person to person. “Perhaps the road is as hard as we suspected this year.” 

You hum in agreement, watching as the caravans stop and unload, the muddy streets filling with people and chatter and bubbling with excitement. It feels like the bubble of anxiety looming over the town has popped - at least temporarily - relieving the pressure that had been building with every passing day. 

Leaning against the rail, you’re content to observe. All manner of people and things are pulled from carts. Vendors start setting up right away, people forming lines for ingredients, cloth, and wares. The largest line of all is for weapons and metal tools, Old Man Heo barely has time to park his cart before the men of the village ask how much for iron arrowheads and blades. 

A shiver goes through you as your eyes sweep back toward the town entrance where more people pour in. Fewer caravans come through - now it’s just people with pack mules or bags over their shoulders. 

The hairs on your arm stand up when you see him. Wind lifts the edge of your cloak, making it flutter around you. You watch as he walks down the main street with the other travelers, eyes flicking around as he drinks in the buildings and the crowd of villagers coming to welcome the traders. 

As though he senses your staring, his head snaps to you. You feel frozen to the spot, your fingers tightening on the rail as you meet his eyes. They’re unfathomably dark and yet… a tingle of familiarity slithers up your spine. 

He stares at you in turn. You’re sure he’s looking at you, paused near the cart he stands next to, dark gaze focused on where you stand on the porch. 

You’ve never seen him.  You’re sure of it. You’d remember a handsome face like that anywhere. His long, dark hair is pushed back from his face, revealing a sharp jawline, a strong nose, and intense eyes. His lips are red from the cold - pretty against tan skin.

He’s tall. Taller than most men in the village and broad, with strong shoulders and thick arms, though it’s hard to tell underneath his tunic. Like the other hardy men accompanying traders, he has a weapons belt snug around his waist and the bulk of his frame implies that he knows how to use them. 

The man doesn’t break eye contact. His mouth begins to tilt in what you think might be the start of a smile when Hoseok sits up abruptly, startling you. You break eye contact, looking at Hoseok who bites into an apple, offering you one. 

“You frightened me,” you snap, a little irritated at being distracted. When you glance back up at the man, his attention is elsewhere. 

“What were you staring at anyway?” he asks, crunching bits of apple. 

“Nothing,” you murmur, eyes on the flexing back of the man as he helps unload a wagon near the inn. Something niggles at the back of your mind. I know you. “Nothing at all.” 

“Want to visit the vendors later when they’re all set up? I would love to get some spiced wine and listen to Marla’s stories tonight.”

“Yes,” you answer without hesitation. “Let’s do just that.” 

-

Every minute that passes by feels like an eternity. Incurable energy simmers under the surface as you wait for the day to fade to evening. You clean the entire house, you collect wood from outside, you dress and then change into something else, and you ultimately end up pacing back and forth in your room while you wait for Hoseok to arrive. 

Your thoughts are consumed by the mystery man you had seen earlier. His handsome face swims in your memory. The clear image of his face is accompanied by some feeling you cannot identify, something that almost feels like nostalgia. How can you feel nostalgia for someone you don’t know? 

Hoseok finally arrives, letting himself into your house cheerily. The brief respite from winter is already bleeding away, the wind carrying a painful promise as it lifts your hood outside. The traders, it seems, arrived at the perfect time, the cloudy sky promising snow in the morning once more. 

Energy sizzles in the air. It’s as though the momentary fear of the wolf attacks is momentarily forgotten with the arrival of the vendors and travelers. The noise echoes from every street, torches, and fires lighting up the alleyways and down as people hang lamps in the windows and carts string up tea lights. 

Though you’re nervous, you are temporarily distracted as Hoseok pulls you through a tangle of carts toward Sal’s Sweets. Your stomach grumbles when you catch the scent of melting sugar and sweet confections, joining the line at Hoseok’s side to pick up hot, sticky sweets. 

With hot, sweet rolls drizzled in honey in hand, you and Hoseok explore the vendor carts. It is an explosion of color and lights, glittering jewelry hanging from displays, hot meats sizzling in pants over fires, the flash of powder and light as the Yang twins set off more fireworks, and the smell of spices as you pass by herb carts and tents. 

Everywhere you go, you see the men from before, looming near carts with weapons and steely expressions. But not even the eerie sight of them can bring down the spirits of the villagers, kids running with new kites and jars full of fireflies. 

As you stand in line with Hoseok who wants new inkwells, you listen to passing chatter. From what you gather, it was a hard trip this way on the caravans this year. The winter was just as harsh on the road as it was in the village, and the traders' voices become quiet when they talk about thieves and monsters in the woods.

You exchange a glance with Hoseok and he nods. Wolves. 

Wordlessly, you wait as Hoseok points out the inks that he wants. You begin to crane your neck, looking for the familiar stranger that you had seen before. The square is crowded and packed tight with people, making it nearly impossible to make out much beyond a few feet in front of you.

You spot Dr. Kim walking next to Seokjin, both of their heads bowed as they speak to one another. You narrow your eyes, remembering the way Dr. Kim had silenced you at the Marrow farm. You watch them as they head toward the road that the veterinary practice is on, pausing as a man pushes off the wall to join them.

It’s him you realize. You recognize the broad shoulders and the dark hair as he turns his back to you, walking with the Kims down the road. You don’t even have to think twice.

“Hey,” you tug Hoseok’s sleeve. “I’m going to go see Dr. Kim about something really quick. I’ll meet you at the inn?”

“Sure.” He frowns. “Is it safe to go alone?”

“With all of these people?” You’re already backing away and shrugging. “Definitely.” 

Without waiting for Hoseok to respond, you turn on your heel and rush into the crowd. The bodies of people immediately swallow you. The sound and sights and smells become a blur as you push through the crowd, shouldering people aside. You get some nasty looks from the force at which you move, but they immediately forget you as more people press in.

Less people pass you by as you walk up the street, pulling your cloak in tight. The lights in front of the building are off. You creep up the stairs and try the handle, finding it locked. It doesn’t matter, you sneak around the back of the building to the rear entrance and press your ear to the door. When you hear nothing, you try the handle and it twists.

Victorious, you open the door and slide through. The hallway is narrow with four doors on the right leading to examination rooms and two doors on the left. The first door leads to the kennel area where you hear voices. The second leads to the front lobby and desk.

The front lobby is the safest option, lest you get caught eavesdropping in the hallway when they leave. Carefully, you creep by the door, holding your breath and praying the floor doesn’t creak. Your heart pounds as you inch past the door, hearing deep voices on the other side as you go by. 

Clearing the door, you hurry into the lobby and to the door behind the desk that leads to the kennels. Crouching down low to hide yourself from anyone walking by the windows, you carefully pull the door open, unwilling to open it any further than the width of your index finger. Pressing your ear to the open gap, you listen.

“We talked about discretion,” Dr. Kim says, his voice frustrated. “This isn’t discretion. This is harassment and fear-mongering.”

“I told you,” a deep, smooth voice answers. You assume it must belong to the stranger and you shiver, eyes fluttering as the sound of it washes over you. “It isn’t my decision to make. I do not lead. Yoongi made it very clear how he wishes to proceed.” 

“Yoongi is a lunatic.”

“He’s the alpha.”

You frown. Alpha? You’re familiar with the concept of alphas in packs of dogs and herding animals, but you don’t know what that has to do with people or who Yoongi is. 

“The hunts will begin tomorrow.”

You think Dr. Kim means the hunting for the wolves. It makes sense now that the traders are in town and they can stock up on weapons. 

“As is the way of things,” the stranger answers with a sigh. “You know why Yoongi has chosen this path.”

“Is revenge worth it?”

“Perhaps your kind do not understand.” The stranger’s voice hardens. You wonder what he means by your kind. “You have one foot in the forest, one in the village.” 

“We understand, but we’re also not reckless.” Charged quiet hangs in the air. You hold your breath, your heart thundering in your chest, waiting for the sound of footsteps at the end of a conversation. “Why are you here, Namjoon? You came alone.”

Namjoon. The name washes over you, a warm feeling like the first spray of summer rain. It must be the stranger's name. 

Namjoon answers, “There is… a protected here. But I still fear for them. Yoongi and the others are angry - I wish to further keep them from harm.”

A frown twists your mouth. This Namjoon is here to protect someone from Yoongi. You wonder what this has to do with Dr. Kim. Could… Perhaps someone is using the wolves as tools? You’ve certainly seen a hunter train wolves or wolfhounds before, though it’s a dangerous business. 

Dr. Kim sighs. “That is the only saving grace of you being here, I’m afraid. Seokjin and I cannot help you. Not without exposing ourselves. I’ve already done what I can.”

“You have my greatest thanks for that. You and yours will always be safe. And not just because of your blood.”

Shuffling makes you lean away from the door immediately. You slowly drop it back in place before crawling over to the desk and hiding under it, straining your hearing as the footsteps go into the back hall and out of the back door. You remain there long after you hear the back door shut, waiting just in case they’re still outside.

When you’re sure they’ve gone, you crawl out from underneath the desk and hurry into the hall and out the back door. The alley is empty when you stick your head out, sagging with relief. You hurry out and close the door behind you, spinning around and-

“You know, most people who don’t want to be seen don’t sneak around in a red cloak.”

The man - Namjoon - looms over you, looking down at you with an amused expression. Your scream is cut off when he winces and cups your mouth with his hand. “Well don’t scream! You’ll summon Giho and Seokjin back this way. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

Namjoon waits for a moment, your chest heaving as you nod, signifying that you won’t scream for help. Maybe it’s silly, but you trust him not to hurt you. At the least, he is there to protect someone in the village, so he doesn’t seem like he’s there for nefarious reasons.

When he drops his hands, you press yourself against the door, trying to put a little distance between you. Namjoon’s presence is demanding, a tickle prickling at the base of your spine as you look up at him, mystified. 

He’s so beautiful. Up close, you can make out his features far better than earlier that day. His eyes are dark and framed by beautiful, silken lashes. His nose is broad and his jaw is sharp. A dimple appears when he gives you a lopsided grin, dark eyes sizing you up.

The same sense of familiarity from earlier comes back to you, and though you’ve never seen his face before, you swear you know him. Warmth radiates from him, the delicate smell of pine and bergamot reaching you. He feels like… yours. Like some part of him completes you. It is the strangest feeling. 

“You okay, Red?” he asks, tone earnest. You furrow your brows at the term and he grins - genuine and warm. “Your cloak. It’s a very bright red. Pretty, though.”

“Thank you?”

He raises a brow. “Are you asking me?”

“I’m… you’re awfully close.”

Namjoon takes a few steps back from you. You suddenly regret saying something as his warmth vanishes, replaced by the cool wind. “Sorry,” he says, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. “Didn’t mean to freak you out.”

“Why didn’t you alert Dr. Kim if you knew I was snooping.”

“You don’t seem to be a threat. Plus, he’s a bit of a grouch. It didn’t seem worth it to hear him chastise a pretty girl.”

You flush. “How do you know the Kims?”

“Family friends.” 

“What were you all talking about?”

He cocks his head to the side. “Just because I’m not chastising you for listening to our private conversation doesn’t mean I’m going to divulge the details of said private conversation.”

You divert your gaze, feeling flushed. He has a point, but if he’s put out by your line of questioning or your eavesdropping, he doesn’t show it. “Come on,” Namjoon says. “Let’s go back to the square. I need a drink and it’s dangerous to walk around right now.”

“Because of the wolves?”

He stares at you. “Because it’s dark and there are a bunch of strangers in your town, and you’re a woman alone. In the dark.”

“You’re a stranger in my town.”

His grin spreads and his dimple deepens. Your stomach flutters. You’re not unaffected by him, a little dizzy and nervous when he sticks out a hand. “Namjoon. I’m a part of the Kim family.”

“Like… Dr. Kim?” you ask, reaching out your hand and giving him your name.

“We’re related, in a way. Pretty name. I think I’ll stick with Red, though.”

Namjoon takes off walking. For a second, you just stand and stare at him. He shoves his hands in his pockets and doesn’t look back. You lick your lips, heart pounding. You cannot shake the sense of something peculiar about him, something familiar. He’s a Kim - perhaps you know him.

Determined to find out, you take off after him, scurrying to catch up. You fall into step with him and look up to find him smirking down at you before focusing back on the growing noise and lights of the main square. 

“Have you been here before?” you ask, watching him from the corner of your eye. He shakes his head and you frown. “I feel like I know you.”

“Perhaps I have one of those faces?”

“No, I’d remember a face like yours.”

Namjoon turns to you, arching a brow. “A face like mine, huh?” 

Multiple fire pits dot the streets, groups of people clustered around them to keep warm as the chill seeps back into the village. The inn is bustling with people, the door propped open with a chair as people walk in and out with platters of food and tankards in hand. Multiple villagers have pulled out tables and chairs from their homes, setting them up in the street. 

It feels good. The air hums with euphoria and the promise of better days ahead, like suddenly there are not several families mourning their loved ones. The atmosphere reminds you of a festival, and you suppose it kind of is a festival. 

The smell of burning fat and ale hits your nose as you walk into the inn. Voices roar over one another and the workers are busy behind the bar. A fireplace crackles in the far corner where you spot Hoseok guarding an extra chair. 

“I fear this is where we part ways,” Namjoon announces over the din of voices. “Try not to do any more eavesdropping tonight.” You hesitate, wanting to protest. There are a million burning questions you have for him. He must see it in your face, because he smiles and says, “We’ll run into one another again. Don’t worry.”

“I wasn’t worried.”

You were actually, and you know he knows by his smirk. “Goodnight, Red.”

You watch Namjoon go. He moves toward where the innkeeper stands at a podium looking over reservations, blending into the crowd. Just before he reaches the podium he glances over his shoulder at you, catching you watching. He shoots you a grin and you scowl, pivoting on your heel to charge toward Hoseok. 

Hoseok raises his eyebrows when he sees you storm over to him and yank the chair out from the table, sitting down in a huff. Without a word, you snatch his tankard of ale and take several, cold gulps before setting it on the table, letting it wash through you. 

“Who was that you came in with? And then stormed over here after speaking to?”

“Some relative of the Kims,” you mutter. “I find him very… frustrating.”

“He’s very handsome.”

You glare at Hoseok and see the beginning of a wicked smile. “And frustrating.” 

He lifts his cup, shrugging. “Cheers to being frustrating.”

-

A scream wakes you up in the middle of the night. You lurch up from bed, head spinning as you try to gather your wits about you. Blankets tangle your limbs as you try to peel them from sweaty skin. Another scream makes you stumble out of bed, the world tilting on its axis as your body tries to catch up with your sudden lucidity. 

In the main room of your home, your mother is stumbling through the kitchen too, lighting a candle and grabbing a holder. You feel relief as you realize the screaming isn’t coming from your home, but your neighbor’s.

Together, you and your mother rush out into the cold in nightgowns, not bothering with shoes or coats. The cold is bitter, immediately stinging your skin as the Liang family joins you in running to the Hutch family home where it sounds like Mrs. Hutch is screaming like a wild animal in her house. 

“It’s Leanne,” your mother breathes, words turning to steam in the air. 

“Come on,” you urge, pulling your mother as you go, driven by the shrieks.

The front door hangs open as Mr. Liang enters the home first, an ax in hand. It occurs to you that neither you nor your mother have weapons, but Mrs. Hutch has always been kind to your mother, making the both of you charge into the darkness of her home empty-handed.

A metallic tang hits you immediately. You recoil, recognizing the stench of blood immediately. Villagers spill into the home behind you, alerted to the wailing coming from the bedroom. With torches and candles in hand, you spot the red on the dark wood floor in the hallway. 

Mr. Liang stands in the doorway of the bedroom, staring with a haunted gaze at what he sees there. Your mother pushes through the people in the home to look over his shoulder, her hand flying to her mouth as she gasps. 

“Oh Leanne,” she murmurs in horror, shoving by Mr. Liang.

You don’t go to the room. The smell and the weeping coming from the bedroom give you an inkling of what lay inside. You stand in the living room as people fill the hall, gasping and murmuring. Someone shouts to wake the constable. 

“Why?” Mrs. Hutch screams in her room, the despair in her voice rattling your bones. “Why?”

“His throat has been cut,” someone murmurs from the hall. “Murdered in bed.” 

Murdered? That throws you for a loop. You had assumed somehow it was an animal attack but… you shiver. Murder is different. 

Mr. Liang begins shooing people out of the house. You slink out into the cold and hurry to your own home, bare feet freezing in the cold, wet earth. Your mother stays with Mrs. Hutch, leaving you alone.

The dark presses in on you, every creak of a floorboard making you jump. The shadows seem menacing now and you’re quick to find and light a candle, orange light flooding the home. 

Cloth and candle in hand, you return to your room to wipe the cold mud from your feet, skin still burning from the frigid air. Voices carry in from outside, the entire town waking and gathering as the shock of murder ripples through the streets, a stone in a pond.

With sleep nowhere near possible for the remainder of the night, you get dressed. You pull on thick woolen pants, a tunic, and multiple socks, sticking your feet in your boots. Your cloak goes next, fastening it around your throat as you look out your bedroom window. 

Your home sits at an angle in a row of houses that circle the village like a ring. You can see the wall of the home next to you, and a sliver of the backyard as well. It’s that tiny space in the backyard that catches your eye, watching as someone moves from the edge of the home out of sight. 

Heart in your throat, you grab a candle and run outside. The crowd in front of the Hutch’s has grown, but you ignore them, skirting around your house to the alleyway between you and your neighbor. Nothing catches your eye as you run to the backyard, swiveling as you search in the darkness for the shadow you saw. 

The wind howls, drowning out the voices in the street. The treeline behind the houses is dark. You squint your eyes and lift the candle in your hand, the flame barely flickering as the wind makes the trees sway. There is nothing in the darkness and you begin to turn when you see a shadow in the tree line. 

It’s barely there - perhaps a trick of the light, even. You take a step forward, boots crunching in the snow. A gust of wind makes your cloak snap at your ankles, candle going out and leaving you without a source of light. You had not realized how dark it was without it, the shadow vanishing from your line of sight. 

Fear nestles in the pit of your stomach. Your breath gets stuck in your lungs as your limbs lock, realizing how stupid it was to come outside if there was a killer among the trees. Soft snow crunches somewhere close to you. You squeeze your eyes shut, tucking your chin to your chest as panic makes you shut down, unable to move and-

“Red.”

Namjoon’s voice makes you spin around. He holds a torch level with his head, the flame casting an eerie glow on his face. For a moment, he looks lupine and terrifying, your heart nearly stuttering to a halt. 

Then his face twists in concern. “What are you doing out here alone?”

“What are you doing?”

“Dr. Kim sent me over to check on you. No one answered the door so I came around back.”

“Why?”

Namjoon seems confused. “Why did I come around back or why did he send me?”

“Both.”

“I could see the light of your candle and because a murder has just happened.”

You relax a little at the logic in his answer. Snow begins to fall from the sky. You look up at the moonless black,  thick clouds floating as the bits of snow drift on the breeze. You shiver and look back to the trees, seeing nothing but tightly packed pines. Still, there is an instinctual sense of trepidation that sits heavy in your gut.

“Come on,” Namjoon says gently. “Let’s go inside. I’ll wait with you until your mother comes home.” 

Reluctantly, you follow Namjoon. Eyeing him, you realize he is dressed differently than previously that night. Now, he’s in black breeches and a black linen shirt. The weapons belt is gone and he’s without a coat. 

You frown. “Aren’t you freezing?”

“I run warm.”

It’s the only answer that he gives you as you walk back into the street which is filled with people and torches. In the distance, you hear the baying of hounds. It chills you, goosebumps exploding up and down your arms as you watch a cluster of firelights gather far off down the road. 

“The constable is leading a manhunt. They’ll come to question us too.” 

Wordlessly you gesture for Namjoon to join you inside of your home. He closes the door firmly behind you and strides to the fireplace, using the torch to coax the simmering logs to a full flame. Cedar pops as he adds the torch to the fire, orange embers drifting up the chimney. 

Rubbing your hands together, you offer him tea and he accepts with a soft smile. It doesn’t meet his eyes as he looks around the only place you’ve ever called home. Suddenly shy of your less-than-luxurious surroundings, you clear your throat and gesture to one of the mismatched armchairs by the fire as you grab a kettle.

Namjoon hardly fits in the chair. You press your lips to keep from laughing, which feels inappropriate with a man dead just a few yards away. With careful hands, you hang the kettle next to the fire, the flame close enough to heat the water as you scurry back to the kitchen and fill tea bags with herbs. 

“What kind of tea do you like?”

“Yarrow, if you have it.”

“I do.” You grab the jar, popping the top. “Are you in great pain, Mr. Kim?”

“Call me Namjoon. Mr. Kim feels far too formal.”

“Well, we are strangers, after all.”

Namjoon certainly doesn’t feel like a stranger. You cast him a sidelong glance as you say it, looking for his reaction. He turns his head from the fire, meeting your gaze head-on. His lips curve in a secret smile, making your nerves dance.

“I suppose that’s true.”

Is it? You wonder. You’re not so sure. 

Instead of asking him, you bring the mugs with bags of tea over to where he sits, handing him one. Steam rises from the spout of the teapot. With a thick towel, you lift it off of the hanger. Namjoon holds out his cup and lets you pour carefully into his mug, the smell of yarrow and mint wafting toward you. After pouring your own cup, you set the kettle down and sit across from him.

Your cold hands leech the warmth from the mug. You settle comfortably in the chair, relaxing and inhaling the chamomile in your cup. After a few moments of silence, you realize how comfortable and safe you feel with Namjoon, though you’ve only known him for a few short hours. 

“Why have you come to the village?” 

Namjoon watches the fire as he answers, “You were eavesdropping at the veterinary office. I’m sure you heard me.” You look down at your steaming cup and Namjoon chuckles, raspy and deep. It’s a nice sound.

“You said there was a ‘protected’ here. And something about a Yoongi.”

Namjoon’s face darkens at the mention of Yoongi. You chew on your lip, worried you’ve pushed him too far before you’ve even started to ask him real questions. His jaw works as he contemplates what you’ve said, sipping the tea a little. 

“A protected just means someone under protection by my family,” Namjoon says finally. “My extended family is… large. We are a very close group and we consider those in our community blood.”

“It is… not always like that here.”

“Your mother assists Mrs. Hutch, though. That seems like family, in a way.”

“Mrs. Hutch is kind. Not everyone is.” 

Namjoon nods. “It is not like that where I am from. We bear the sins of our neighbors and we share the responsibility of keeping everyone safe.”

“That must be nice.” You sip your tea and scald your tongue, hissing and setting the cup down. Namjoon leans forward as though to help you, alarm on his face. “Tea is too hot. I don’t know how you drink it.”

He smiles and shrugs. “I run warm.” 

“So you said. How are you related to Dr. Kim?” 

“He’s my uncle. He’s my father’s brother. His wife was best friends with my mom.” 

“Oh.” You blink in surprise. “She passed away when I was very young. She… died the same winter as my father.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Namjoon frowns and cocks his head. “What did your father do?” 

“He was a hunter.”

One of the logs pops in the fireplace, making you flinch. You give a nervous laugh and glance at Namjoon, who has gone stone-still. The firelight dances on his face as he peers at you. Your smile falters a little at the gravity you find there. 

“He only hunted fowl and deer,” you find yourself explaining. You don’t know why you say it, only that suddenly that feels important. “He didn’t like to hunt bigger game or predators. Mother says that he believed they were best left alone and that a true hunter knows his betters when he sees them.”

Namjoon hums. “Smart man.”

“I don’t know. He died in an animal attack when I was very young.” 

“You must resent the woods.”

“Not at all. I think…” You bite your bottom lip, trying to find the right words. “I think that he wouldn’t blame the animals. The woods are their home. My mother says he was always very adamant about that. They don’t usually attack villagers, though.”

“Usually?”

“There are animal attacks happening. I’m sure Dr. Kim told you…?”

“Ah, yes. You think they’re without reason?”

“Perhaps hunger? I don’t know. It does not happen often.” 

“Wolves are not known to hunt people.” Namjoon’s fingers drum against his mug, a steady tap. He seems thoughtful as he regards you. “They’re intelligent creatures and their packs are important to them. They take the threat to their land and their family seriously.” 

“Like your family?”

He laughs. “Like my family.” Namjoon sips his tea again. “This land used to belong to several packs of wolves, you know?”

“Really?”

“Yes, until settlers drove them out. Not that long ago there were hunting parties for sport. They slaughtered entire packs, destroying bloodlines and nearly wiping out the wolves here entirely.”

“I always found that incredibly sad.”

“Why is that?”

“They’re incredibly important to the ecosystem here. And I guess I always agreed with my dad. I don’t remember him much, but I like to remember that he was good at heart.”

Namjoon hums but says nothing else. You sit in silence for a while, enjoying the warmth of the fire. Namjoon’s presence is steady, keeping out the cold and the fear just beyond the door. You wonder how he does that by just sitting in a chair, or how it feels so natural. 

Outside, the world begins to turn gray. You yawn as exhaustion begins to set in and you feel yourself sagging. Eyes burning, you rub them with the back of your hands, blinking a few times to fight the explosion of colors in your vision. 

“You can sleep,” Namjoon says softly from where he sits. You glance at him. “You can trust me.”

A hint of pine and bergamot drift toward you, making you drowsy. Namjoon grabs a blanket from the back of his chair and stands up, bringing it to you. He takes your mug and you watch him with sleepy, round eyes as he places the blanket over you.

“Sleep.” His voice is soft, distant. “I will be here.”

Your eyes flutter shut and you drift to sleep, remembering the warm sound of his voice. It… reminds you of your wolf.

-

Gentle voices pull you from the clutches of sleep. You wake slowly, a cramp in your neck making you reluctant to get up. You smell the fire and the hint of pine and bergamot. You hear a low, raspy voice that you instantly recognize as Namjoon. 

How swiftly I know his voice, you think. 

“You must wake her,” a male voice says. You recognize it as Dr. Kim. “The constable is coming for questioning.”

“She’s already awake,” Namjoon answers, a smile in his voice. Your eyes snap open at being caught, meeting his dark gaze as he smirks from near your door. “See?”

You scowl at him. How did he know that? Sitting up and stretching, you appraise the two men lurking near your door. “Is my mother still with Mrs. Hutch?”

Dr. Kim nods and steps swiftly into the room around Namjoon. Namjoon reaches out a hand, catching Dr. Kim with his arm and stopping him from entering the room properly. You watch in puzzlement as there’s a silent exchange between the two of them, Namjoon’s face dark as Dr. Kim raises a brow. 

Then, Namjoon lets him go. You cock your head to the side, wondering what that’s about. Ignoring Namjoon, Dr. Kim approaches and says, “The constable will be here shortly. Say nothing about the farm.”

The farm. The memory of the wolves brings a chill to your arm, the smell of smoke and burning oil. The confusion and Dr. Kim’s refusal to answer your questions. 

“What is going on?” you demand, eyes flickering from Dr. Kim to Namjoon. “Animal attacks, murders, you covering up something at the barn. I’m being lied to.” 

“Say nothing about the farm,” Dr. Kim says again, voice firm. Namjoon makes a noise that startles you. It’s almost like a growl, your eyes going wide as he glares at Dr. Kim. “I told you this village has a complicated history. I’m looking after your safety.” 

Heavy footsteps sound on the porch. There’s a loud knock on the door, the constable announcing his presence on the other side. Namjoon opens the door for him, standing back to let him in. The constable looks him up and down with confusion before looking at you, a question in his eyes.

“They came to check on me,” you offer. The constable has known you since you were a child, it’s no wonder he’s confused at the presence of a stranger in your home. “How can I help you, constable?”

“I’d like you to answer a few questions about last night. Mr. Liang confirmed you were one of the first people to Hutch’s last night.”

Dr. Kim walks to your kitchen and busies himself making tea. Namjoon moves to sit in the chair across from you, his warm presence from the night before replaced with something mildly threatening. You cut him a look but his dark eyes are focused on the constable as though he’s a threat. 

The questions are easy enough. When did you wake up? Did you notice anyone around your home when you came home? Did you notice anyone outside? When did you come home? 

You leave out running into Namjoon behind your home. You don’t know why, but you feel the need to not draw attention to him. You also leave out the strange incident at the farm, glancing sideways at Dr. Kim when he brings you lemon tea. 

When the constable is finished, he eyes Dr. Kim. “Be at the station at four,” he instructs. “We’re splitting hunting parties. One to look for the culprit, the other to get rid of the damn wolves.” 

“The wolves were there first, you know?” Namjoon speaks up, looking at you and not the constable. “Have you ever tried figuring out what they want?”

“And who the hell are you?”

“Please ignore my nephew, constable. He likes to insert himself in conversations he doesn’t belong in. Come, let’s look over the hounds before you send them out tonight.”

Together, the constable and Dr. Kim shuffle out. Before he shuts the door, Dr. Kim levels the pair of you with a heavy gaze. You don’t know what that gaze means, but you know that something is going on in this village and that he and Namjoon seem to have some idea about it.

As soon as the door shuts, you turn to Namjoon and demand, “What is going on?”

He sighs. “Would you listen if I just said to wait it out?”

“Do you know who murdered Mr. Hatch?” 

Namjoon hesitates and shakes his head. You narrow your eyes, unbelieving. “I really don’t know who did, Red.”

“Why are you really here? Why all the secrets?” 

“I told you, my family protects those who belong to their community.”

“What did you mean about asking what the wolves want?” 

“I told you last night. There were wolves long before this village existed. Seems to me that if the wolves are suddenly killing the townspeople, perhaps it’s because they want their land back. Or maybe they’re angry from years of being hunted.”

That shuts you up. You can’t argue with that, exactly. But… “Are you saying that the wolves are capable of revenge?”

Namjoon stands and gestures to your cloak. “How often do you wear that?”

“Every day. It’s… sentimental to me.”

His eyes lighten and he offers a half smile. “Good. Red is a lucky color.”

“Where are you going?”

He opens the door, cold wind hissing past the opening. “Your mom is coming. I’ll see you later, Red.”

Without another word, Namjoon slips through the door and shuts it firmly behind him. You stare after him, openmouthed and confused. As promised, you hear your mother come up the steps, light feet scuffing before she quickly lets herself in, shutting the door firmly behind her.

You offer to make your mother breakfast, happy to help as she dozes in the chair. It isn’t until later that you wonder how Namjoon had heard her coming at all.

-

Little Lucy Larkin

In a little wood

Little Lucy Larkin

Up to no good

Little Lucy Larkin

In her little hood

Little Lucy Larkin

Ware of the woods!

Little Lucy Larkin

Stole a little bread

Little Lucy Larkin

In the woods of dread

Little Lucy Larkin

Is a little thief

Little Lucy Larkin

Die by wolf’s teeth

A sense of unease slithers up your spine as you pull your cloak closer. The voice of the children playing the Little Lucy Game echoes down the street and you pause to watch as the little boy playing Lucy steals the rock from the middle of the circle and the little boy playing the wolf gets up to chase him. 

The other kids scream and giggle as the boys give chase, the sound of their laughter eerie in the cold gray of twilight. Shaking it off, you turn and duck your head as you walk up the steps to the Tall Tales Inn. 

Warmth and the scent of food greet you. It’s a thinner crowd than the day before but still more people than you’re used to without the traders in town. There is a clear divide in the dining room with traders on one side and townsfolk on the other, the murder quick to make the locals distrust the new people in their streets.

Tense conversations hum in the gold light. You navigate around tables until you find Hoseok sitting with Seokjin. The sight of Seokjin gives you pause. He seems to sense your presence, glancing up and meeting your questioning stare. He gives no reaction, though, turning his attention back to Hoseok who is murmuring quietly.

“I didn’t expect to see you here, Jin,” you say by way of greeting. Hoseok gives you a look at your clipped tone. You ignore it, sitting down and leveling the older man with a stare, his father’s mysteriousness weighing on you. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”

He narrows his eyes a fraction. “Just enjoying the company of friends.”

“Shouldn’t you be helping the constable?”

“I’m on the late-night shift.” 

Grinding your teeth, you sit roughly. Hoseok just watches you, brows raised. You say nothing as you order a drink and a meal, picking at the splinters of the tabletop, eyeing Seokjin. If he’s put out by your rudeness he doesn’t show it, drinking heartily from his tankard and watching you with dark, even eyes. 

You know Seokjin knows whatever it is his father and Namjoon have been talking about. You yourself have not been able to work out what’s going on in the village, but you’re sure the Kims know. And if Dr. Kim asked you to lie to the constable… well perhaps Seokjin is leading him astray as well.

Hoseok pipes up, steering the conversation everywhere he can to avoid the tension building between you and Seokjin and the topics of murders. You participate as little as possible, mind trying to put together the puzzle pieces of the blooming mystery in your home. 

An uncomfortable thought starts to take root in your mind. Is it possible that the Kim family is behind the murders? Dr. Kim has plenty of weapons at his disposal, and they had been talking about revenge, and Dr. Kim had covered up what happened at the Marrow’s farm… but what did that have to do with wolves?

You’re not sure. But you do know that the Kims are purposefully hiding things, that there is a murderer somewhere in the town or near it, and that there is a sense of doom that you cannot shake, a dark itch like stinging nettle in your bones. 

Seokjin excuses himself to take an afternoon nap before his hunting party heads out for the evening. Your eyes track him as he goes. Seokjin certainly doesn’t seem evil, but there’s no telling what’s behind his pretty face. 

“What is wrong with you?” Hoseok asks, leaning over the table and whispering harshly. “You’re behaving rather odd.”

“Something is going on.”

“Yes, your attitude.”

You turn and glare at him. “No, Hobi. Something is going on with the Kim family. I don’t know how to explain it.” You grip your cup tighter. “But I intend to figure it out.” 

Hoseok questions you about what that means. You keep your answers vague, not wanting to rope him into your plan. Too often as children did you lure Hoseok into trouble, and with how dangerous night is becoming in your town, you know it’s a bad idea to endanger him too.

T sun sets over the village. You stand at your bedroom window, watching through the frosty window as the sun turns the sky into a smear of blood. The clouds have cleared away just for this sanguine sunset. It makes your stomach turn, a sense of foreboding heavy in the air.

Still, it doesn’t deter you. Red fades to gray-blue and gray-blue fades to black. Wind rattles the glass in the window pane. Turning from the window, you find your thickest pair of pants and fur-lined tunic. The fabric feels scratchy on your skin.

Dressed, you look at your red cloak folded on the bed. Any other night you would take it with you. It has become your safety net, something that keeps you warm and keeps you safe. You cannot recall a day you haven’t worn it since it mysteriously showed up thirteen years ago, but tonight, you need obscurity.

Instead, you reach for an old, thick cloak that used to belong to your father. It's dark brown and worn at the edges, a little too big for you as the hem brushes the ground. It will serve its purpose in keeping you hidden in the dark of the woods, though. 

All you grab is a hunting knife that you don’t know how to use, a wax candle, and a solid piece of flint and sharp rock to light it with. The candle and flint are for emergencies only. You hope it won’t be so dark that you cannot see, but you’re unsure what the clouds are going to do.

Outside, the wind is sharp. Your nostrils burn as you breathe it in and duck away behind your house. No new snow has fallen during the day, which is a good thing. You don’t have to worry about dragging your boots and tiring your calves. It also helps that the sky is clear tonight, the moon a sliver of sharp light. 

Baying hounds echo through the village and the forest as the hunting dogs lead the men into the woods. You’re quick on your feet, dashing into the woods and heading north. You don’t want to run right into the hunting party, but you do want to find their burning torches and keep them in your line of sight.

They are easy to find, hovering like orange fireflies in the distance. Careful to make your way in the dark, you follow them. Your breath mists in front of you, hands shaking more from the adrenaline than the cold. 

The torches spread out. You chew on your lip, unsure which group would belong to Seokjin. You take a gamble, heading after the group closest to you. 

Everything feels too loud. Each snap of a branch under your foot and crunch of dry leaves feels like it’s going to give you away. Still, you’re good at sneaking for the most part, having spent plenty of time skulking through the village to take nightly strolls in the woods.

Voices carry to you. Through a system of running a few steps forward and dodging behind a tree, you manage to follow the men at a distance. You think that you hear the constable’s voice, which is a good sign. If he’s around, perhaps Seokjin is too.

The deeper you go into the forest, the colder it gets. The ground beneath your feet slopes. The evergreens are packed tighter here, needles tickling your hands as you keep your hands held out from your sides as you slide downward.

This is near where I saved that wolf, you think. 

It’s true. You recognize the slope of the land and the general area. You cannot tell if it’s exactly where you met the wolf, but it’s close enough that your senses tingle and your eyes sweep the land, expecting something to happen.

A sense of foreboding trails you as the men move deeper into the wood. You turn around and look for the other torches and see nothing but a dark, compact forest. Your stomach flips uncomfortably but you continue, unsure now if it’s safer to turn back or to keep going. 

Ahead, the group of men decide to take a break. The hounds sniff the area around them, pulling at the leashes as they go. Crouching low, you watch as the hounds go in circles, following the scent of something that seems to confuse them. 

The men take long droughts of water, making you wish you’d thought of that. Mouth dry and hands cold, you huddle against a tree, bark digging into your back. 

A few minutes pace by. You close your eyes, resting your head against the tree, breathing cold air in deeply. You don’t know what you expect the group to lead you to, only that you-

Something snaps behind you. Your eyes fly open and your limbs lock. Heart beating like a steady drum, you hold your breath and strain your eyes. For a moment, there’s nothing but the dim voices of the men taking a break. You think it’s nothing until you hear something again, a gentle susurration of leaves. 

One of the hounds lifts its head, ears twitching. Your eyes scan the surrounding area back and forth, searching for what you know is there. 

It happens so fast that you don’t even see the wolves enter the ring of torchlight until they’re there, snarls rattling the trees. You clamp your hands over your mouth to mute your gasp as the sounds of screams and tearing flesh explode in the night. Hounds screech, their growls savage and choked as the wolves descend. 

You don’t know how many there are. Torch lights go down and drown you in darkness. Squeezing your eyes shut, you curl in on yourself, panting through your hands as the sounds echo in your ears. A new fear has stabbed its way between your ribs, making it hard to breathe. 

Time moves slowly. Or quickly. You cannot tell which. One moment the sounds of a nightmare turned real are just a few hundred yards away. The next, an eerie silence blankets the dark forest. 

You don’t want to open your eyes, but you have to. Very slowly, you crack an eye open. At first, there’s nothing. Your vision swims with flashing colors, your eyes trying to adjust. Then, there is the vague outline of trees. Ahead of you, where the men had been, lay shadowed piles. 

Shaking, you glance around. You see nothing - hear nothing. You stand slowly. Each inch you gain feels like you’re being too loud. Sweat gathers on the back of your neck. The cool air makes it feel like an icy finger brushing down your nape. 

When you’re sure that there’s nothing else around, you take a step toward where the attack happened. Leaves crunch beneath your feet. You stop breathing, waiting for signs of anything. Nothing happens and you let out a trembling breath, taking one more step. Again, you wait to see if your footfalls will trigger something. 

You repeat this to the edge of the slaughter - for that’s what it is. A slaughter. Bile rises in your throat as you reach the first body and stamped-out torch. The constable and his hound lay in tatters, only recognizable by the batch on his cloak. 

It is carnage. You don’t dare breathe through your nose for fear of breathing in the scent of death, circling the scene with weak knees, hand pressed to your mouth to keep in the whimpers. You see the faces of men you’ve known since you were a child. Ripped, bloodied, gored. 

Finally, you lean over and empty the contents of your stomach. It burns on the way up, choking you. Pressing a hand against a tree, you breathe raggedly. The adrenaline coursing through you makes you twitchy and unstable, each nerve feeling like it’s on fire. 

Leaves crunch a few feet away. Your head snaps in and you zero in on the source of the noise, mouth hanging open when you see Seokjin standing amongst the trees. He stares at you, frown on his face. 

“Who are you?” he asks, voice gentle. You realize he can’t see your face under the cowl of your hood and you’re not in your traditional red. He sighs. “Doesn’t matter.” 

You hear shuffling behind him before you see a white wolf. The white wolf from the Marrow farm. There are others, then. You don’t know how you missed them, the darkness of their fur blending in with the darkness around them.

The white one is spotted in red, muzzle matted, teeth slicked. Your stomach lurches. It isn’t hard to guess where it’s from. You take a step back and the wolf growls, lips pulled back. You freeze, looking amongst the pack of wolves that fan out around Seokjin, desperately looking for your wolf with the kind, intelligent eyes. 

You do not find him there. 

With a growl, the white wolf steps forward. Your instincts kick in and you turn and run, letting out a wild shriek as you do so. If Seokjin recognizes your voice when you scream, you cannot tell. The wolves are after you and you’re barreling through the trees with no hope of outrunning them, especially uphill.

A wolf nips at your ankle and you scream, tripping over your feet in your terror and going down hard. You’re jarred as you hit the ground, bones rattling as pain shoots up your limbs from the impact. Before you can scramble, there are teeth around your ankle, not biting down hard enough to snap, but hard enough to drag.

Your scream is wretched even to your ears. It is a curdling, nightmarish sound. You feel the scrape of leaves and sticks against your skin, cloak picking up dirt and twigs as you go. Your nails dig into the ground but the soil is frozen solid, fingers scraping bluntly against it. 

With a surge of self-preservation, you kick your free leg backward as hard as you can. You hit the wolf in the muzzle, making it cry, and let go of your foot. You manage to crawl to your knees, slipping in the foliage as you try to stand before it’s tearing at your cloak, determined to drag you one way or another. 

Sliding again as it drags you by the cloak, you try to undo the ties at your throat with shaking fingers. It comes away and frees you from the hellish drag to your death. This time, you’re faster to your feet, turning and running in the opposite direction. You don’t know where you’re going, just that you want to get away. 

Your foot slides on the incline and with a shout you go down. This time, your head hits the ground hard. Your ears ring and your vision pulses. Blinking, you roll over and stare up at the canopy of dark trees. The world spins dangerously and you feel nausea churn deep in your stomach.

“Yoongi!” you hear the deep voice but it sounds warbled like you’re hearing it through water. Your head lolls to the side, the ringing in your ears still going as you see feet pass you. “Enough!”

Your field of vision narrows to a sharp point, edges pulling with black. You realize you’re about to pass out, oddly just thankful that you’re already on the ground. Just as your world begins to face, the face of the person in front of you appears.

Namjoon. 

-

“Hey,” a gentle voice calls to you. There are soft hands on your head, brushing against your forehead. It smells like pine and bergamot as you snuggle into them. “I hate to wake you, but you need to wake up every few hours.”

The memory of the wolves comes to you. Your eyes snap open and you blink a few times before your vision adjusts to see Namjoon leaning over you. Cringing away from him, you press yourself into a warm, soft mattress that isn’t your own.

“Easy,” he cautions, holding his hands up. “You smacked your head very hard. I think you have a concussion.” 

“Where am I?” 

The room isn’t so much a room as it is a shack. There is a single fireplace in the far corner, a pile of logs, and the bed that you’re in. Despite the tiny space, it looks well-built and it’s warm, your heart slowing down as Namjoon leans to sit further from you and give you your space.

“Random shack in the woods near your village. I think it used to be a hunter’s stead for the winter.” He jerks his thumb toward the fireplace. “Hasn’t been used in a while. The wood has rotted.” 

“Seokjin - you - what is going on?” 

Emotions spill out of you like a broken dam. You don’t know which to acknowledge first: anger, fear, curiosity, gratitude. 

Namjoon’s sigh is heavy. He visibly looks wearing, running a hand through his hair. You wonder how soft his hair is, followed immediately by feeling ridiculous for the timing of said thought. 

“Just…” he winces. “Try to lean back and take it easy, I’m worried about how hard you hit your head. I promise I have no intentions of hurting you or letting anyone hurt me.”

“You called that white wolf Yoongi. Who is Yoongi? Why was Seokjin in the woods - those people - they’re dead.”

He nods slowly. “They are.” 

You lean back carefully. The bed is comfortable and Namjoon keeps his distance, worried eyes on you. “I will try to explain the best I can. It will require a little bit of faith that I’m not lying to you and that I’m not insulting your intelligence by telling you things that will sound insane.” 

“Like what?”

“Like werewolves exist.”

You stare at him. He doesn’t laugh, crack a grin, or do anything to make you believe he’s joking. Your first instinct is to blow him off. Werewolves were a tale for children and a way to help the children of the village cope during periods of wolf violence. 

Thus far, all Namjoon has done is protect you. Strange as it seems, you know that fact to be true. He didn’t tell Dr. Jim you were eavesdropping, he kept you company after Mr. Hatch’s murder, and he stopped the wolves from taking you.

Namjoon is… there is something between you. You know it.

Hesitantly, you say, “Alright. Werewolves exist. Keep going.”

He is visibly relieved that you’re not questioning or berating him. You don’t exactly believe him yet, but you want to hear his story. 

“There were communities of werewolves who lived here long before humans did. When people migrated to this area, they drove them out and forced those communities to become smaller and smaller. When the werewolves asked for their land back or to share resources, they were hunted and slaughtered.” 

Namjoon’s throat bobs and emotions flicker across his face. His features settle on pain, and you stop yourself from reaching out to take his hand. “What you vaguely remember as wolf attacks and wolf hunts as a child was those families being exterminated. There are a few families in the village who remember that werewolves exist. They took it upon themselves to remove the problem forever.”

This village has a complicated history. 

Dr. Kim’s words float through your mind as you chew on what Namjoon has told you. He lets the information settle, giving you a few moments to think. You don’t recall anyone seriously ever talking about werewolves but… 

“They’re angry,” you murmur, remembering how San described the massacre at the Mathesons. “The wolves now - those aren’t wolves. They’re werewolves who are getting revenge. You spoke of revenge with Dr. Kim. Is that why the animal attacks have been happening?”

Namjoon nods grimly. “There is a very small concentration of people in the village who keep the secret about the massacres and the knowledge of werewolves. Those families have been… targeted recently. They still hunt werewolves when they can.”

“Who is Yoongi?”

“Ah,” he lets out a humorless laugh. “He leads the last remaining community of werewolves. His family was murdered by your constable when he was a child.” You blanch. “Yoongi is angry, vengeful, and very influential. When he was voted pack alpha, he decided to eliminate the last remaining threats.” 

“He’s the white wolf.” Namjoon raises his brows but nods. You think that makes sense, remembering the white wolf at the Marrow farm and the one who dragged you in the forest. “Why was Seokjin there? Did he lead the constable to-”

Namjoon hesitates and nods. “The Kim family are wolf friends. It’s largely the reason Dr. Kim is a veterinarian. They’re what we call one foot in the forest. There were two others in your village that were wolf friends. Your neighbor was one.”

You twist your fingers in the blanket. “Did Yoongi-”

“No. I believe he was murdered by one of the men who knows what Yoongi and his people are.” 

“So that’s why Seokjin led them to Yoongi?” Namjoon gives a curt nod. “This is…. A lot to take in.” 

“It is. Sleep a little more and we’ll talk about it more when you wake up. Your head is already swimming enough, yeah?”

Namjoon’s grin is gentle and you shoot one back. “Do you promise to tell me why you’re really here? And why it feels like I know you?”

“Of course. Sleep, Red.”

-

Namjoon wakes you again a few hours later. This time, it’s with water. It’s cool and fresh, soothing your aching head and waking up your sleepy senses. He lets you drain the entire thing, sitting thoughtfully at the end of your bed. 

This time, you feel more alert. Sitting up carefully, you cross your legs and examine him. He’s dressed in simple clothes and a jacket, the fireplace throwing an orange glow on his face. Again, you’re struck with how much you could swear you know him, like his eyes are something you know and love. 

He waits for you to get settled, placing your hands in your lap. You fiddle with the edge of your tunic, drinking him in. Strong shoulders, rough hands, tawny skin. Your heart does a flip before you shove away thoughts of how pretty he is to think about what he’s told you so far.

“I have questions.”

He smiles and it’s as warm as the fire behind him. “Of course you do.”

“Did the werewolves kill my father?”

You get the tough one out of the way first. It was a thought you had just before you slept, wondering if your father had been someone who helped the constable murder Yoongi’s family. Though you have decided to dislike the white wolf very strongly, you can’t help but pity him.

“No,” Namjoon says vehemently. “After you told me about your father, I did some asking around. He was a wolf friend. That’s why he didn’t hunt big game, Red. He knew about us.” 

A tight feeling works its way up your throat. The relief and anger you feel is a double-edged sword, happy that he didn’t contribute to the displacement Namjoon is speaking of and angry that you know with every bone in your body that he was murdered. The instinct speaks to you the same way it tells you that you know Namjoon. 

You look up at him sharply, realizing something. “What do you mean ‘he knew about us’? Us?” 

Namjoon’s eyes are dark. He regards you intensely, making you shiver. Slowly, Namjoon begins to roll one of his sleeves. Your eyes drop to his hand as he does, long fingers meticulous. He bares his skin and holds his hand out to you, displaying the jagged, white scar that lopes around his wrist. 

Without thinking twice, you reach out to him, pulling his hand toward you. His skin is warm, sending a tingle through your fingertips. His palm is large and rough, your fingers delicate as you flip it to face the ceiling, eyes glued to the scarring around his wrist.

You move your fingers over his palm gently, scraping the calluses as you go. He lets you do what you want, touch stopping at his wrist bone before glancing up at him. His eyes are impossibly dark and he nods, urging you forward. 

The scarring is rough. Thick, ropey lines encircle his wrist like his hand was ravished by teeth. It makes you faintly think of Yoongi’s teeth around your ankle or -

“You,” you breathe, eyes meeting his. They are the same warm, intelligent, and welcoming eyes of the wolf you’d saved all those years ago. The wolf who had stood between you and the others at the Marrow farm. The wolf you dream about every night. “I saved you?”

His throat bobs. “You did.”

“I… that’s why it feels like I know you.” Your fingers trace his scar, almost fondly. Namjoon’s eyes flutter. “I do know you. Why didn’t you tell me?” 

He smirks. “‘Hi, my name is Namjoon and I can turn into a wolf whenever I want and you saved me a few years ago and I’ve been thinking about you ever since’ is not exactly a great opening.” 

“Better than ‘you know most people who don’t want to be seen don’t wear a red cloak’.” He scrunches his nose. Cute. “I don’t know what to say.”

“That’s alright. I’ll talk if you’re willing to listen?”

You nod, not letting go of his hand. Now that you know who and what he is, any residual fear is gone. You scoot toward him, wanting to be closer. “I want to know.”

“Giho is my uncle like I said. He’s not a werewolf, though. That trait passed through my mom’s side of the family. Still, he was family and he knew about the werewolves that my father married into. He's a wolf friend and does what he can to help us, including making house calls and stealing us goods in harsh winters.”

“Huh. I always just thought he was a quiet, grumpy vet.”

“He is very much that, but he has also been a lifeline. He helps Yoongi far more than he should. It puts him in danger. His wife was killed for being a wolf friend. Giho was left alone simply because he is useful to the village.” Your fingers squeeze his hand at the hurt in his voice. “That night you found me… I was pretty young then. Fourteen, to be exact. I was nosing around the village that everyone was so afraid of and never saw the trap. I cannot emphasize how much you saved my life.” 

“It seemed like the right thing to do. I was afraid but you were… hurt. And your eyes were so kind. I don’t regret it.”

“What a relief.” You smile, genuinely happy. “I was worried you might after finding out my family were sort of… killing people.”

“When you put it that way,” you wince. “But I do believe you. That humans drove you out. That people are hurting you and your people. You don’t deserve it and I… don’t think I am in a position to offer moral arguments to what you’re doing.”

“I knew I liked you.”

“You barely know me.”

Namjoon turns his hand and catches yours, lacing your fingers. Your heart skitters as he pulls you a little close and leans, eyes narrowed playfully. “Hmm, sorry. I wasn’t really allowed to come hang out around your town, Little Red.” 

“Why did you finally come? Is it to help Yoongi?”

He shakes his head. “I only have one goal.”

“Which is?”

“To keep you safe.” That quiets you. Namjoon doesn’t meet your eyes when he continues, “You showed me such kindness, I just wanted to repay you. I liked to keep an eye on you when I could, always from a safe distance. You might not know me, but I grew up knowing you.”

Your mouth goes dry at his words. For someone who poses such a threat, Namjoon is gentle. Soft. Kind. You swallow past the lump in your throat. “Did you give me the red cloak?” 

“Yeah. It was to mark you as a friend. We give them to those who are under our protection.” He narrows his eyes. “Which is why Yoongi swears he didn’t know it was you in the woods tonight. Seokjin’s eyesight is too piss poor to realize it was you. Idiots.”

“Well if you know about me, tell me about you. What’s your favorite color? What do you like to eat? What's your favorite thing about being a wolf?”

So Namjoon does tell you. You both end up sitting on the bed next to one another, arms touching as he traces the lines on your palm. Your backs are pressed against the wall, feet dangling off the edge of his bed as he tells you about his childhood. 

It is fascinating hearing about the dynamics of his community but it’s also sad. Hearing how they live in fear, hearing how so many of the people he knows are gone. Realizing that the things he tells you match up with things you realize about your own community. 

Sadness sinks to the bottom of your gut like a rock. It isn’t pity that you feel, but something far more profound. It’s regret that you didn’t know any better. Frustration that he has suffered. A radical feeling of anger and desire for justice knowing you lived in comfort while Namjoon and his family suffered. 

There are good parts, too. Namjoon recalls happy moments and blushes when he recalls seeing you a few times. It doesn’t feel weird or strange, knowing someone was looking out for you. It feels comforting, like old friends catching up. 

Namjoon’s eyes sparkle as he tells you about his favorite books. You don’t know when you stop listening to him and start staring, but it’s inevitable. You love the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles, dimple making an appearance as he recalls a story about putting Yoongi in the dirt with his brother, Taehyung’s help. You love the way he gestures wildly with his hands, every word evocative and enthusiastic. 

He’s the kind of person you would have been friends with had he grown up with you. And maybe a little more, you think, watching Namjoon watch you. His gaze is even and heated, making you squirm. His mouth twitches and you’re so sure that he knows he makes you nervous.

“I never thanked you,” you mention. He hums in question, letting you go back to tracing his scare delicately. He twitches and you grin. Good. “For saving me from the jaws of Yoongi.”

“Ah, that. I think he knew it was you. There’s a reason he dragged you instead of killing you on the spot.”

“Huh. Well, that’s very rude.”

“He’s good at that.”

“You sound fond, still.”

He nods. “I love Yoongi. Is my brother, in a way.”

“Well still. Thank you.” 

You look up at Namjoon. You’re sitting so close, shoulders pressed against one another. He smells like pine and bergamot, your favorite scent. It’s heady, awakening a foreign ache in you. Your heart speeds up as you lean into him just a little more, watching him through your lashes.”

“Don’t look at me like that,” he rumbles, voice deep. 

Your toes curl. “Like what?” 

“LIke you wanna do more than just thank me.”

“Maybe I do.”

“I know.” 

Ah. You start to pull away and turn your head, realizing that he’s not interested, but Namjoon catches your chin with his other hand, tilting you back toward him. Your heart stalls when he looks down at your mouth, then back up to your eyes. “I’ve known you for all my life. Not how I wanted, but I’ve known you nonetheless. But you haven’t had the chance to know me.”

“I want to. I feel like I have known you. Like I knew you were always there.”

“Is this what you want?”

This. Namjoon. Whatever is crackling between you. The thing that has sparked since the moment he caught you eavesdropping. It doesn’t matter that it doesn’t make sense. It doesn’t have to make sense. 

Namjoon makes sense though. The way his gaze softens when he sees you. The way he looms on the edge of your life, a silent protector. The way he could do so much damage but is soft instead. The way everything about him feels like the sun on a summer day, like a field of wildflowers in spring.

He must sense you tipping over the edge. His grip on your chin becomes firm and he tilts your face toward him, leaning down to press his warm, full mouth against yours. The effect is instantaneous. You melt into him, sighing as a feeling of belonging slots into place.

The kiss is chaste. Namjoon pulls away and your lashes flutter. You hadn’t even realized your eyes closed. His gaze is dark and half-lidded, his face close enough that you feel his breath. His lips have stoked a fire in you and you want more, you want to spill out the years of longing for something you didn’t know was there, for the sudden confirmation that he’d been there all along.

Surging forward, you press your lips to his again. This time, it’s searing, your mouth fierce as you push up off of the bed. Namjoon falls in your rhythm easily, hand leaving your chin to grab you by the waist and pull you into his lap.

Knees slotted on either side of him, you pour everything you have into the kiss. Your fingers card through his thick hair, silky strands sliding between them like you knew they would. His lips are soft on yours, mouth warm as you break the seal of the kiss with your tongue.

Namjoon lets out deep, throaty sounds. It coaxes the flame inside of you to a roar, tongue tangling with his. It’s wet and messy and a little impractical but you don’t feel embarrassed or nervous. It’s Namjoon. It feels like home. 

Pleasure tingles down your spine. Namjoon grips your hips, fingers digging into your flesh. It feels hot and your skin is burning up, static trapped between your chests where they’re pressed together. Your hips twitch, tentatively seeking friction in his lap. Namjoon responds immediately, pulling your hips toward him and letting you roll. 

Your mouths part but Namjoon doesn’t stop kissing you. You pant while he presses his mouth to your chin and jawline, tongue tough against the softness of your skin. “I’ve wanted you for so long,” he growls. You tilt your head back, letting him pepper your throat. “You have no idea.”

“I always felt like something was missing. I think it was you.”

Namjoon moans at your admission. The heat between your legs is almost painful. One of Namjoon’s hands goes from your waist to between your legs, cupping you. You gasp back bowing as he presses firmly, deft fingers providing mind-numbing pleasure.

“That feels good.” You fist the collar of his shirt and squeeze your eyes. You feel tense, color exploding behind your closed lids. “Don’t stop.”

“Whatever you want,” he whispers. He pulls you in close, fingers curling. Your hips buck and you realize it isn't enough. You need the barrier of clothes gone. You want it more than anything. “You know I’d do anything for you.”

“Yes.”

You do know. It’s second nature. You knew even that day in the street when you’d first seen him. Just like Namjoon knows what you want and need, land leaving the apex of your thighs to help you off his lap and onto the bed under him. 

There’s a confidence in his movements that makes the room spin. Long forgotten are the wolf attacks and Yoongi’s teeth around your ankle. Here, it’s only the rasp of your pants against your skin as Namjoon pulls them down. It’s only the heat of his skis as you yank on his tunic, desperate to feel him.

Namjoon does run hot. His skin is burning up as your hands explore his firm chest. He captures your lips again, sucking your bottom lip in his mouth as he spreads your legs open with a knee. You shake under his touch, equal parts eager and stimulated. 

He’s so, so gentle as he caresses your inner thigh. When he brings his fingers to your sticky center, you let out a pitiful whine. Namjoon pauses, fingers pressed to your swollen kiss as he laughs and breaks the kiss, forehead pressed against yours.

“Don’t laugh at me,” you pout, leaning your head up to bite his chin. “It feels good.”

He gives you a quick kiss. Once. Twice. “Good. I want to make you feel good.” 

Namjoon circles his middle finger lazily around your clit. Your feet press into the bed, hips pulling up off the sheets. It feels amazing, pleasure sparking in your stomach. “That,” you gasp. “I like that.” 

He dips his head down, attaching his mouth to your neck as he teases your cunt. You don’t have to say anything else, Namjoon’s inquisitive fingers learning what makes you squirm and sigh. You’re a mess beneath him, chest heavy, beats of sweat making your shirt cling to you.

You claw at it, pulling it away from you. Namjoon leans up and lets you take it off, eyes dipping as he smiles appreciatively. He combines the efforts of his fingers with his mouth, bending low to catch a pert nipple with his teeth.

“Shit!” you squeak, making him chuckle again.

His fingers circle your clenching hole, pussy leaking onto his fingers. He presses a finger in and you let out a long, quiet whine. The feeling of his finger pressing against your walls is perfect, your cunt clenching as he shallowing thrusts the finger.

Everything he does is perfect. He sucks at your nipple hungrily as he fingers you slowly, making sure to press up inside your cunt in a way that has you seeing stars. Your fingers tangle in his hair, unable to think about anything except his teeth scraping your sensitive bud and your pussy clenching around his finger.

Namjoon is attentive. The heel of his hand presses to your clit and he eases another finger in, slower than the last. He looks up at you, mouth slick with spit to watch your mouth fall open. You nod, urging him further, sound stuck in your throat. 

The wet squelch between your legs as he fucks you with his fingers is obscene. You like it though, driven by the fact that it’s Namjoon doing it. Namjoon who you saved. Namjoon who watched over you. 

You open your eyes and look up at him, cradling his face in your hands. His forehead is damp with sweat from the heat building in the little shack. His skin is flushed and his hair hangs in his face. You pull at his bottom lip with your thumb and he gazes at you, hungry and wild, pupils blown.

Greedy, you pull him to you. The kiss is more teeth than lips, the two of you panting. Your leg hooks around his waist and you nibble his bottom lip, hips rolling to meet his thrusts, an orgasm starting its ascent. 

“I want you,” you breathe against his mouth. Your lips are sore from arduous kissing. “Please.”

He kisses you. “Okay.”

It’s that simple. You ask for it and he gives it to you.

Namjoon retracts his fingers from your cunt. You feel the sudden loss, fidgeting as you wait. He makes quick work of his pants, kneeling on the bed and bringing his hands covered in your juice to pump his cock. You feel your eyes bulge at his thick length. 

He notices and grins, slowing his movements. You watch as his hand smears precum down his shaft, twisting lightly as he gets to the top, his thumb brushing over his dark tip. “You can take it,” he pants, grinning wolfishly. “I know you can.”

Instead of answering, you nod, lifting your hips eagerly. He hums, pleased as he lets go, cock bobbing heavily while he shuffles over and leans over you. He places his hands on either side of your head, arms flexing as he holds his weight to bend down and steal a quick kiss. 

You kiss back feverishly, one hand traveling between your sweaty bodies to grip his length, trying to stroke him the way he did. He sighs, breaking the kiss and dropping his forehead against your chin as a shiver ripples through him. You smile, continuing to pump him.

“Want to be inside,” he mumbles, barely coherent. 

You open yourself up more, gently guiding the blunt crown of his cock toward your trembling entrance. You hold your breath as his hips follow your hand, breaching your ring of tight muscles and pushing in. 

Immediately your muscles spasm and resist, overwhelmed by Namjoon’s girth. You blow out a long breath as he enters you so, so slowly. It’s heaven and it’s hell, it’s pleasure and it’s pain. Namjoon presses his mouth to you, tongue distracting you as he bottoms out, stuffing you full.

Nothing has ever compared to how stretched you are. He doesn’t move, letting your cunt twitch around him. He holds himself up with one hand, the other brushing up and down your side, squeezing bits of flesh comfortingly as you try to still your beating heart under him.

The pain fades. You get greedy, wiggling your hips back and forth experimentally to feel the way Namjoon’s cock rubs against your walls. He blows out air sharply, a half laugh before his hand drops down to your hip, pushing you down into the bed with his weight as he slides backward.

“Ohhhh,” you sigh, head lolling to the side. The pressure of Namjoon pressing you down as he sets a slow pace of fucking into you is just right. You close your eyes, letting him set a slow pace in silence. “Yeah.” 

Namjoon’s breath is unsteady. Every little sound he makes sets you on fire. You’re pliant beneath him as he picks up his speed, properly fucking into you. One of your hands reaches up to grab his bicep, nails digging in, the other shooting to his hand on your hip, squeezing his wrist. 

Everything feels right. Connected. Overheated. The air is so thick you think you might suffocate, sheets sticking to your balmy skin, toes curling as Namjoon’s cock hits that spot inside of you that drives you mad. 

Nothing but this matters. Nothing but knowing your wolf isn’t really a wolf at all, and that he’s been there all along. Just like you’d hoped. 

“Fuck,” Namjoon pants. “I never dreamed I’d have you.”

“I dreamed of you,” you gasp on a particularly hard thrust, your nails dragging down his arm. “I just didn’t know it.”

His mouth crashes to yours. “Mine,” he growls. “My savior, mine to protect.” 

Your orgasm spins like an out-of-control spool of thread, winding tighter and tighter. Namjoon can tell, chasing your orgasm with reckless abandon, throwing his gentle movements out the window and fucking you hard into the bed. 

The sounds and words coming out of your mouth are useless babble, your thoughts turning murky as that spool tightens so much inside of you that it bursts, unspooling and spilling out of you around Namjoon’s cock. 

You can’t even breathe as you come, feet kicking, nails digging into his skin, teeth clenched. Your heart beats in your ears, the only thing you can hear for a few seconds as you spasm, eyes clenched shut. You are vaguely aware of Namjoon coming shortly after you, your name ripping through clenched teeth as he does. 

There are a few minutes of nothing punctuated by your stilted breathing and rapid pulse. Finally, you blink, stars swimming in your eyes as you look at Namjoon, who hangs his head on your chest. You reach a hand up and run your fingers through his sweaty hair.

Your wolf. Somehow you’d always known it. Even when you thought you were crazy. 

Gently, Namjoon pulls out of you, fluid spilling between your legs. You don’t care, limbs too heavy to move. Your skin is still burning up from exertion and you roll your head to the side to watch Namjoon as he lays next to you, pulling you toward him. 

For a little while, it’s quiet. You listen to the beating of his heart, closing your eyes and breathing deeply. You’re content just to lay there feeling whole just for once. 

After a while, Namjoon sighs. “You have to go back eventually.”

“We.”

“Hmm?”

“We have to go back.”

Namjoon pulls away and frowns at your tone, eyes reading your face. Your mouth is set in a firm line and you look at him with all seriousness. “We’re not letting them get away with what the humans did to you and your family.”

“You want to help?”

“Yes.” You pause. “I think it’s what my father would have wanted. It’s what I want. Even if Yoongi bit me.”

“Yoongi will never bite you again,” he vows fiercely. Then, a little more gently, “But he… would be glad to hear your sympathetic stance. I’m glad to hear it, Red.”

“Good.” You snuggle closer. “You’re mine to protect too. And I will make them pay.”

For Namjoon. For your father. You’ll paint the village red. 

[base0h]

HOW DO YOU NOT EVEN KNOW?

he said something awful, something he should’ve never said or thought about saying. but he said it, and now the damage was done. and he didn’t even know what he’d done, leaving you alone to reflect on the damage (feat. inarizaki! thank you for requesting this anon :)) kori, your best friend was always a mediator, but even this time she knew that you were the victim, and he was the bad guy (I get confused whenever I start using too many y/f/n and stuff like that so I just stuck my oc in here instead ✌️)

warnings ⚠️ - g/n reader, s/o reader, angst, this does not have a happy ending with comfort sorry, your dialogue is in white, kori’s dialogue is in purple, kori is an oc not a canon character (click here for more info abt her)

You knew Atsumu was popular, that wasn’t a surprise. He was good looking, a talented volleyball player, and he was charismatic. What was there not to like about him?

But still. Why did it still hurt and make you agitated whenever other students would fawn over him? You knew it was bound to happen, hell— you fawn over him too as your boyfriend.

If you had to hear one more deafening squeal of his name, you’d probably lose your mind.

“Miya-kun!!”

“Miya-senpai!”

The worst part was that he always stopped and made time for them. Even when he was with you. You couldn’t lie to yourself, it hurt everytime you saw him smiling at the fans and giving them his time and attention when he probably should be giving it to you, his actual s/o.

You voiced your worries and concerns to your friend who always listened and lended her ears to you.

“I probably shouldn’t be feeling like this.. I mean he loves me right? Not the fans.” You said softly, but your tone was uncertain, you honestly weren’t sure what you were saying was true or not, and that scared you even more.

“No I think it’s pretty valid to feel like that. It ain’t fair for him to do that in front of you especially if you’re on an actual date. He should be paying attention to you, not some random fangirls or fanboys.” Kori replied, scribbling away on her tablet as she sketched and drew as she was listening and talking. Kori always drew when listening, she had a way with multitasking.

You found it funny that Kori offered such sage wisdom and support despite the girl never having been in a relationship nor having a crush on anyone. “Kori how do you always know about relationship stuff when you’ve never even been in one before?”

Kori looked up from her tablet with a slightly hurt expression. “I really didn’t need that stray comment—?”

You giggled, snickering to yourself as you reassured your friend that you were just teasing and joking around. You knew Kori was one of the sweetest human beings on earth, and you trusted her to have your back when you needed her to.

“But seriously though, you should tell him what you’re feeling. He’s so dense that I don’t think bro would know unless you tell him directly.” Kori suggested, going back to drawing. She was right, Atsumu was quite oblivious, and probably thought nothing of what he was doing since he was so used to the attention.

So you decided to gather your courage to speak to the blonde twin about your concerns. You thought that it’d go ok, maybe he’d be a bit confused, but he would comply and maybe give you a hug or a couple kisses to reassure you.

“Huh? Whaddya talkin’ about babe?”

…

What did he mean, “whaddya talkin’ about”?

You thought you worded yourself quite clearly for him to understand, you knew he wasn’t stupid or anything— at least not THAT stupid.

“So yer worried about all the other people talkin’ to me? Babe don’t worry, it ain’t like I’m kissin’ ‘em or anything.”

You felt your heart twist. Did he just— not get it? Or did he not care? Did he care about you and everyone else the same? No. That can’t be right, you were catastrophizing things.

“No that’s not— I’m just— Atsumu wait. Please listen for a second—“ you tried grabbing his arm, but he immediately pulled it away.

“I gotta go to practice y/n, ok? Can it wait till after?”

he used your name instead of a nickname.

“It’ll take like five seconds for me to explain—“

“Just leave me be y/n! Yer insecurities can’t get in the way of my practicing, nationals are coming up and you’re tellin’ me yer worried about other students talkin’ to me? Yer just as annoying and as distracting as them at this point!”

“you’re just as annoying and as distracting as them”

That sentence echoed over and over again in your mind. He didn’t really mean that right? He was just stressed because of nationals? He’d certainly apologize right?

But all you heard were his quick receding footsteps that disappeared as he walked into the gym, closing the door behind him. You were frozen there for god knows how long. It felt like a few seconds, but to bystanders and other students walking by, you looked like you’d passed out standing up.

“Uh— y/n…? You good?” A familiar voice asked, tapping your shoulder lightly. You snapped out of your daze and looked to your side where your friend Kori was, looking at you with concern and slight worry in her sleepy golden amber eyes.

You hadn’t even realized tears had pricked your eyes, which earned a silent gasp from your friend. “Whoa what happened? Did you get hurt or something??” She asked worriedly, her eyes scanning your body for any injuries. Your breath trembled as you just slumped over into Kori’s shoulder, letting out a choked sob that you didn’t know you were holding in.

Kori’s eyes were wide with concern as she hesitantly pat your back, returning the hug. She didn’t say anything or press you to explain the situation yet, she just let you cry for as long as you needed, offering tissues and water to help you calm down a bit.

After you had managed to explain what happened, Kori sighed knowingly, as if she wasn’t surprised he’d say that. “He was never the nicest dude around y/n. I’m sorry he said that to you that’s wrong.” Her tone was empathetic and gentle, and she tried her best to avoid saying anything bad about the blonde. You knew him and her weren’t on the best of terms for some reason, reasons unknown even to Kori, Atsumu just didn’t like her for some reason.

Kori did her best to try and at least distract you. You went over to her house after school and she did whatever you felt like doing. Watching TV, studying, playing games, listening to music, honestly anything she’d do to help you at least a little. You couldn’t lie it did help to distract yourself, it felt good to not think about Atsumu. It felt— freeing.

You hadn’t felt this free and light in a while. You didn’t even realize how much your worries and concerns about Atsumu’s loyalty had weighed down on you.

Ding, ding

Your phone chimed, a new text message incoming. You hoped, hoped that it would be from Atsumu. Why did you hope for that? You felt so free when you weren’t thinking about him, why did you want him to text you? Why did you still want him to be with you and spend time with you despite what he did, and how he dressed you out?

You peeked at your notifications, and sure enough, it was from him. You saw his profile picture at the beginning of the textbox, a funny weird picture which was most likely taken by Suna as he was fighting with his other half.

“Is it him?” Kori’s voice made you jump, you could never get used to how deep it was, it was kind of scary whenever she’d talk out of nowhere. You nodded, opening up your messages to see what he had said.

Tsumu: Hey where are u? Didn’t you have club today? It’s Wednesday I always meet you after school to walk you home.

Should you answer? Honestly you didn’t want to. You didn’t want to act like everything was fine. It wasn’t fine. You closed your phone, just leaving him on read as you went back to watching the TV in front of you. It was playing your favorite anime, and Kori was drawing as per usual right next to you.

“What did tweedledum say?” Kori asked curiously, her Apple Pencil scribbling and scraping against her iPad screen in a precise, sharp manner. You couldn’t help but crack a smile at Kori’s nickname for Atsumu. Kori called the twins “tweedledee and tweedledum”. You weren’t sure if she even knew their actual names still. Of course she gave Atsumu the tweedledum name because he was indeed dum(b) about 90% of the time.

“He just asked where I was. I usually stay late for club which ends at the same time as his practice so we usually walked home together. But I skipped today.” You explained as Kori hummed softly in response. Kori didn’t pry or try to bring up the subject again for the rest of the time you were at her house. She thought it would be better to just— let you not think about it too much.

She offered for you to stay over for the night, but you said no to that. But Kori was worried for you, she wanted to make sure you were ok—so she said she could walk you home at least, but you shook your head, you couldn’t make her walk you home too after all she’d done for you already. So you waved goodbye to her, saying goodbye to her mom that had just pulled in from work as well with a soft smile that was half genuine, and half fake.

One half was genuinely happy after Kori helped you out, but the other half was still stuck on that dumb blonde. You’d gotten several messages from him on both Snapchat and text.

Tsumu: hello?? Don’t just leave me on read babe wth??

Tsumu: where even are you? Are you at someone’s house??

You then jumped, shit. Your Snapchat location. You almost forgot to turn it off. You quickly opened the app and turned off your location sharing before shoving your phone back into your pocket, putting on your headphones to try and focus on something different. You blasted music on your walk home, listening to anything your shuffled playlist would give you.

It was like your playlist knew. It kept playing these sad angsty songs that you liked listening to during late nights where sleep just couldn’t find you. For the second time that day, you cried, letting out choked and uneven sobs that you once again did not know you were holding onto. You didn’t even know why you were so hurt by what he said, it’s not like he broke up with you or anything. But still— why did it hurt like he just shot you four times straight through your heart and soul?

It was as if the bullets remained, not exiting your body, but lodging themselves deeper into your torn up heart, digging deeper and farther inside of you, not having any plans of leaving you.

The only thing comforting you now were the snug fit of the soft foam ears of your headphones, and your long sleeves that couldn’t reach past your wrists, staying at an uncomfortably short length that only made you feel worse. Any little thing made everything worse. Everything was just too much. Some part of you thought maybe it would’ve been better to stay at Kori’s like she’d offered before. But you were already too far away to turn back now, you’d just have to hope that the comfort of your own home would suffice.

Osamu wasn’t as popular as his twin brother Atsumu. But that didn’t mean he was unpopular. He was just overshadowed by his twin, or as he called it, his “better half”.

It was annoying how they’d all gather around his brother, he too found it kind of disturbing and weird. However of course he felt a bit envious, insecure about his own likability and looks. Did people find his brother more attractive despite them being identical twins? But why? Was it just him?

You’d been friends with the twins for a long while now, ever since middle school, even before they had their distinguishing dyed hair. You liked Osamu better the minute you met them both. Atsumu was so brazen and confident, and he wasn’t afraid to express his high standards of his fellow players, even upperclassmen.

You found it off putting how offensive the blonde could be to people. It was irritating to be around him. Osamu was different. He was pleasant to be around. He had a sense of humor, was laid back, reserved, and friendly for the most part.

He loved food, you knew that from the first time you sat with him in middle school for lunch recess. His droopy tired eyes would widen and sparkle whenever he saw food in front of him, specifically onigiri. It was cute to you, how he’d light up and become a completely different looking person at the sight of some simple, but satiating food. It was one of the many reasons why you chose him and not anyone else.

You felt so confused and baffled that Osamu didn’t see himself the same way you did. You saw someone special, he saw someone that was second best.

You tried. You really did.

Tried to make him see that he was perfect in his own way, perfect in your eyes, perfect for you.

But there was only so much you could do. Only so much you could say. He had to choose to believe your words, and do the rest on his own. It was called self confidence for a reason after all.

Your anniversary was coming up, it’d been 2 years since you two started dating officially. You took this as an opportunity to plan something special for you and your boyfriend this year. You knew he’d been stressed lately because of the upcoming tournaments, and because his twin was putting more pressure on him than ever. You couldn’t count the amount of times you’d seen Atsumu chewing him out for accidentally missing a serve, a block, a receive, or a spike.

Every mistake he made, every single hesitation, his brother caught it and made sure Osamu knew exactly what he did wrong despite the poor gray haired twin already being well aware about what he’d done wrong. Having someone rub everything in his face was degrading and mentally exhausting.

Osamu was usually patient, you commended him for being as patient as he was with his brother. But it was taking a toll on his self esteem that was already fragile. Atsumu was basically hitting him in the same spot over and over again, not allowing the previous bruises heal before making a new one in the same area, eventually leaving a mark that won’t ever heal nor fully fade away.

But next week will be different. You’d make sure of it. You even enlisted the help from your friend to help you figure out some nice plans or ideas of what you could do with Osamu. However you knew at some point you’d have to overcome your beef with Atsumu for a moment, and ask him his thoughts. He was Osamu’s twin brother after all, he knew him better than anyone, maybe even better than you.

“You sure you gotta ask him?” Kori asked. Ugh, you didn’t want to of course. But yes, you’d have to put your dislike for his horrid personality aside for your boyfriend’s sake. You wanted your anniversary to be perfect after all.

“Can you come with me to ask him please?” You asked Kori, looking at her with pleading eyes, clasping your hands together. Kori looked at you, putting her pencil down as she sighed.

“Yeah no sorry you’re on your own.” Kori said with an apologetic expression. You let out a small groan, you knew Atsumu had some sort of beef with Kori, and Kori didn’t want to deal with a beef she didn’t even know was from.

“Oh come on please??”

“…Y/n you already know what will happen if I go with you.”

“Please Yoyo you’re my best friend—“ You tried using the nickname that usually got Kori’s attention, holding your friend’s hands with pleading eyes. If Kori went with you, you could make her ask instead of you, and if he got too exasperating to stand any longer, you’d have an excuse to leave.

Kori looked at you with a narrow and skeptical squint when you used that nickname on her.

“Don’t use that—“

“What, you don’t like it Yoyo-chan?”

“Bro.”

“I’ll stop if you come with me.”

“Nice try.”

You pouted and slapped her shoulder playfully with feigned anger as you crossed your arms over your chest with a sigh. But it couldn’t be helped, it wouldn’t be too horrible right?

“Huh? Yer asking me for help? That’s a new one.”

Ugh. It was horrible.

You covered your perturbed expression, but you couldn’t hide the sharp glare of your eyes as you tried to “fake it till you make it” as they say, and act cordial. But god, you wanted to tear off that smug looking grin off his face so badly. The tone he used was so condescending and belittling, it made you want to crush him with your bare hands, but you honestly couldn’t tell if that was just his normal tone of voice or if he was trying to sound like an egotistical asshole all the time.

Because if he was trying? He was doing an absolutely stupendous job.

“I just wanted to know— what are some of Osamu’s favorite things to do? I mean— I know what he likes but you’re his brother.. So I thought you’d know better than me.” You said, reluctantly swallowing a snarky insult you were about to accidentally say without thinking.

Atsumu scoffed and grinned at you, and you were expecting him to tease you which might’ve been your last straw, but surprisingly, he didn’t.

“Aw that’s sweet actually. I see why he loves ya so much.” You looked at him, expecting to maybe see some kind of smirk or malicious glint in his eyes, but no, he was genuinely saying that. You were pleasantly surprised, maybe this wouldn’t be too bad after all.

You felt yourself smile at the fact that Osamu had made it clear to his brother of his love for you. If even someone as dense and emotionally oblivious as Atsumu could tell, then Osamu must’ve talked about you a lot. The thought of him talking about you so much made your heart flutter, sending a rush of joy and warmth through your veins, fueling your excitement and determination to plan the upcoming special day.

As you two talked, your excitement grew with each suggestion Atsumu made. Your smile was spread wide across your face, filled with genuine adoration and anticipation from how excited you were to surprise your beloved.

However, you failed to realize that Osamu might’ve gotten spoiled early. Spoiled about the wrong thing.

He saw you, chatting with his twin with your beautiful sweet smile that melted his heart to a puddle whenever you showed him. It absolutely destroyed him to see you blessing his brother with the sight instead of him.

Osamu knew you weren’t super close with him, but it’d always been in the back of his mind.

Is he better than me? He’s probably more fun.

Am I too boring?

Am I less good looking?

Am I always gonna be known as “Atsumu’s twin brother”?

He cursed and muttered painfully to himself as he walked off, he couldn’t watch you continue smiling and talking with his better half so cheerfully. Oh if only he had heard what you were talking about, then he would understand everything.

But he left, his fragile heart and self esteem shattered to unmendable pieces of a jigsaw that would never fit back together because of its missing piece.

He felt like a waste. He truly did.

Oh but no it was the opposite of what he thought.. You were only talking to his brother so enthusiastically because you were planning something special for him.

However, things get lost in translation. Misconceptions cause one person to become blind to the truth, quick to catastrophize, making haste to blame and lock away their feelings to try and preserve what they have left to spare. For Osamu? This was probably the worst misunderstanding, worse than any other situation you’d hear about. This was worse.

Oh this was bad. You just kept smiling and talking eagerly with his brother from a distance, that's all Osamu could see. His mind made up the subject of the conversation he thought you were having with Atsumu, his mind immediately jumping to conclusions that were incorrect. Yet there you were, blissfully unaware of the accidental turmoil you’d caused your boyfriend to suffocate in. Alone. Basking with his old friend, second place.

It was the day, finally it had arrived— your anniversary! You had so many things rushing through your buzzing mind, your heart racing with the good kind of anxiety and anticipation of the day ahead. You absolutely couldn’t wait to see Osamu, you could barely contain yourself from excitement.

You found this restaurant with Kori by researching online. It was a place that specialized in making onigiri, which was an establishment run by an old married couple that had been working there for generations. Kori had said that usually these types of places had the best food, and she was certainly not wrong about that.

You knew it was his favorite, so you thought it would for sure make him happy if you took him there, right?

You were expecting to wake up with a message from Osamu, but weirdly, he didn’t, your notifications were as empty as you left them last night. You thought nothing of it, maybe he’d just been too busy this morning to text you, he’d probably just tell you in person.

With a slight skip in your step, you walked up the stairs of Inarizaki, the familiar chatter and buzzing of fellow students’ varying footsteps echoing throughout the long hallways filled with people. Your gaze searched each head, each person’s hair color registering in your mind as you scanned the area. You were searching for one with a certain shade of gray…

There he was, the one with gray hair by the lockers!

You had to push your way through some students who didn’t seem to understand that perhaps having a conversation in the middle of the hallway was inconvenient for everyone around them. But that didn’t matter right now, all that mattered was getting to your boyfriend.

“Samu! I found this super cute place that’s run by this family and they specialize in onigiri— I wanna take you there after school today ok?” Your vice was so chipper and enthusiastic, filled with adoration and love as he shut his locker door slightly harsher than normal. His gaze looked over to you, and you were immediately silenced by how cold it was. It was sharp, razor sharp, and frigid like a blizzard was raging in his dark irises.

You were confused— maybe he was just tired.. Yeah, that was probably it.

“…You ok Samu? We don’t have to go if you don’t want to I just thought that maybe you’d—“

“Why don’t ya go with Atsumu? You seemed awfully chummy with him earlier, so just go with him.” He snapped coldly. But his eyes, they looked so pained, hurt, and somber, not cold and apathetic like his tone.

And with that, he left you to drown in his quicksand-like words, his footsteps receding as he disappeared in the crowd of countless students.

If his words weren’t already enough, you were hit with the sudden realization that he had forgotten about your anniversary, the entire reason behind why you’d asked him to go with you.

What did he mean “you seemed awfully chummy with him earlier”?? What was he— oh.

Oh no.

No no no— he completely misunderstood!

You were talking with Atsumu about today and what you were planning on doing with HIM! It had nothing to do with Atsumu in the slightest!

But you knew Osamu. Too well at that. You knew that he’d be avoiding you now, avoiding you like the plague. He acted petty like that, just like his brother whom he refuses to admit is very similar to him in certain ways.

You knew he wouldn’t let you explain. But what really tore at your soul was that he didn’t even remember today was your anniversary. You had thought that maybe his lack of a “happy anniversary” message in the morning was a fluke, that he was just trying to hurry out the door to make it to school on time.

Now you knew he’d actually completely forgotten. Your throat felt so tight, your stomach hurt from guilt, but also betrayal.

Some part of you, some part of you knew this was going to happen. Or some form of this exact situation at least. You knew he felt inferior to his brother, and that it killed him inside. You’d tried your very hardest to make it so he knew you loved him and you always would choose him and no one else. But what could you do if he just wouldn’t believe your words, let alone believe in himself?

You, his s/o who he’s supposed to confide in, to trust in, to take your word over anyone else’s, didn’t trust your own words that you’d repeated so many times that you felt like a broken record.

He said he did understand and believe it, but he really didn’t. All those nods and silent “mhms” were all fake, he was never really listening. What occurred just moments ago that left you suffocating in pained silence was proof enough of that.

How many times did you have to fucking say it to him? Why were you the one that had to fix his insecurities? They were his insecurities, not yours. It’s self esteem, not your esteem. He was acting petty and jealous, and it was honestly starting to wear your patience thin.

Now that you were reflecting truthfully, you couldn’t remember the last time he’d talked to you about anything other than his stresses at practice, or his brother. It was always something negative.. you hadn’t realized how bad it wore you down.

You were constantly dumped with negative emotions, and honestly, it could be called trauma dumping at this point. It was mentally exhausting. Having to reassure him every single day of something you tried so hard to get him to believe in.

But if he still wouldn’t trust your word, why were you wasting your energy and devotion on his irreversible immaturity? Why did you have to do all the work only to receive bad news all the time and be expected to make him feel better about himself? It was making you feel bad about yourself. It was taking a toll on you.

You were basically being the positive energy for two people when it was already exhausting enough to be your own supporter.

You let out a sigh of relief, exhaling tension you didn’t know you truly had. Your mind had decided it was time for you to move on, time for you to make him figure it out on his own. He was a 2nd year student for god's sake, he was damn well old enough to fix his own issues.

However with the exhale, you felt your eyes prick with tears of hurt and betrayal from his carelessness, from his complete lack of regard for your own feelings. He had forgotten your 2 year anniversary, it wasn’t like it was on leap year or something! It was an easy date to remember!

But you assumed that he was so self consumed that perhaps his mind thought it was meaningless to remember. That you and your words were not memorable enough, nor important enough to form a lasting memory.

He was everything to you, and you were everything to him too. So why was he like this? Why was he so insecure and petty? Why didn’t he believe in what you were telling him so adamantly?

He only believed his own thoughts, his word came first. You loved him so much, but it was getting more and increasingly difficult to keep loving him unconditionally. It was an uphill battle.

And you were miserably losing.

You had no chance against his own self being the enemy. You would come in second place no matter how hard you fought because there was no first place for you to take.

You knew he wasn’t the sweetest guy around. He just wasn’t a warm and fuzzy type of person. But that didn’t mean he didn’t care about you, of course he did. You were the only one he didn’t actively search for dirt to use as blackmail material later.

He wasn’t the most warm and fuzzy person that’s for sure, but you loved him anyway. His fox-like eyes, his quiet and stoic demeanor, his tall stature, and his funny hobby of filming the twins fighting or bickering with each other to save for future references and laughs.

The team often wondered how he ended up making you, a kind, friendly, and sincere person, fall in love with him, the opposite of you. He thought about this as well, and sometimes felt guilty about the way he acted, how he was so detached and cold sometimes. Your love language being physical affection and touch combined with being Suna’s s/o was not a good synergy because he wasn’t the biggest fan of too much affection. Of course hugs, cuddles, kisses are all things he loves to give and receive. But in moderation. He got tired of it after too much.

However you did not. You could be pressed against him all day, in fact, holding his hand or being in contact every second you were with him sounded like the perfect scenario to you.

He never admitted it out loud, and didn’t plan to, but your hugs from behind his chair as he’s working on homework or studying were his favorite. The feeling of your arms wrapped around him from behind which allowed him to continue working on what was in front of him, but still allowing you to be near him, for your comforting presence be as close as possible.

Lately he’d gotten a lot of those, courtesy of the upcoming midterms. Now whenever you came over, he was always studying or working on schoolwork with his headphones on, his head leaning over and close to his desk as he worked countless hours and days, including nights. You were straying to get worried by the amount of empty energy drink cans that had accumulated on his desk, even on the top of his dresser. It was so bad that you could notice it while FaceTiming him. Not to mention the trash can underneath his desk was most likely full of them as well, just hidden from the view of the camera.

This was surely not good for him. At all.

Your mind was filled with concerned thoughts of him, worry swirling in your mind, distracting you from your own midterms that you had to study for as well. You suddenly had an idea during the peak of boredom during your math class.

You could go over to Suna’s after school, and buy you both some sort of bento box to eat. You knew Suna probably hadn’t eaten a real meal other than ice pops in days. He kept failing to realize that frozen fruity ice water in the shape of a flattened cylinder wasn’t exactly full of nutrients. Then you two could study together afterwards. Two minds working in tandem were better than two on their own. Or that’s what you thought at least.

Pulling out your phone discreetly, you texted Suna to let him know you were coming over, knowing that he probably would be on his phone right about now.

You: Hey I’m gonna come over today after school with some snacks and food, maybe we can study together?

….

Suna: yeah sure. I can’t text rn I gotta pay attention

You: oh my bad, I’ll see you after school

read at 3:32pm

You were a bit surprised that he was actively paying attention during class, especially since right about now he was most likely in AP world history. His tone even through text sounded stressed and a bit more harsh and cold than usual, but you knew he was anxious and worked up about the midterms which was absolutely valid and normal. But still, it lacked the usual hint of warmth that his texts usually had, regardless of his word choice.

You couldn’t take your eyes off of the clock, your gaze intently focused on each centimeter the second hand moved, slowly making its way around the entire circular clock on the wall, rotation after rotation. You swore the second hand moved backwards a couple times, as if time were quite literally reversing as you stared at the clock.

Your teacher’s lecture was essentially gibberish, your brain couldn’t focus on anything but the thought of going home to study and take care of your boyfriend who obviously needed the help. You were probably going to need help too from the looks of it, seeing as how you didn’t remember a single thing nor comprehend anything your teacher was saying.

RING RING

You practically fell out of your seat at the piercing ringing of the school dismissal bell. You sprung to your feet, as did everyone else, and as you were packing up your things, your teacher suddenly shouted something, his voice shouting over the commotion that had started from the bell’s relieving cry.

“Excuse me? The bell doesn’t dismiss you, I do!”

Oh for god's sakes— you wanted to take the damn bell and smack his head with it for saying that. Everyone audibly groaned, sitting back down with a synced chorus of irritated and grumpy sighs.

“Ok the homework is just studying and reviewing the accumulated material for the midterm on Thursday. You’re dismissed.”

…Are you serious?

That was it?

That was what he made you all stay for?

Oh nah god give you strength to not clock this bald, old, bitter ass, Walmart bill nye in the face with your textbook. You thought about it, seriously debating whether or not it’d be worth it. But you walked past him, deciding it wasn’t worth your time. You took a deep breath in and out, exhaling the pain of that math class as you walked with a determined look in your eyes. You had a plan.

You’d hit the convenience store on the way to Suna’s house, buy some food for the two of you, and then go over to his house to help him actually eat a normal meal, maybe clean up a bit, and then study of course.

With a fast and brisk pace, you walked into the store with a singular goal in mind, quickly picking out a couple of bentos for the both of you. Exiting the store right after you walked in, your quick pace never wavered as you made your way towards your boyfriend’s house, the plastic bag full of the food and snacks in your left hand, your bag in your right, determination in your eyes, and compassion in your heart.

As you knocked on the door, you saw the familiar face of his mom who immediately smiled upon seeing and recognizing you.

“Ah y/n, I’m so glad you’re here actually. Rintaro just got home— he’s been so quiet lately. He’s been locked up in his room everyday after school and on the weekends.. I think he’s studying but I’m a bit worried that it’s too much. The boy won’t listen to me either about drinking all those energy drinks.. maybe you’ll have better luck?”

His mom looked at you with hopeful eyes, and you smiled, nodding and reassuring her you’d try your best to help. His mom thanked you with a grateful smile, nodding as you walked up the stairs, down the familiar hallway to your boyfriend’s room.

You thought about knocking first. Should you? He was your boyfriend.. Did you really need to knock? Well it was courteous to knock before entering anyone’s do—

And suddenly the door opened for you, revealing the tall figure of Suna in front of you. His narrow, fox-like eyes droopy, tired, and strained from staring at a laptop for too long, or reading in the dark. He had faint dark circles underneath his hazel green eyes, and his hands were a bit shaky, just barely noticeable, probably from the obscene amount of caffeine he’d consumed these past few days to stay up and study. You showed him the bag full of various snacks and food with a little smile before he stepped aside, opening the for further for you to come into his room.

Your eyes widened slightly, but you stayed silent as you took in the whirlwind of disarray that was your boyfriend’s room. It looked like hurricane Katrina had ravaged his room. Empty cans everywhere, wrappers from countless ice pops, pencil and eraser shavings, crumpled up pieces of paper, and dirty clothes. It didn’t smell wonderful, that's for sure.

You saw just how exhausted he looked, how stressed and anxious he was. He never usually studied this hard for school, in fact— you’d never really seen him studying much at all. Midterms plus the stress of the upcoming volleyball qualifying tournaments were probably weighing down on him more than he could handle. You looked at him with a worried and sorry look on your face as you watched him eat his bento in silence.

He did not utter a single word, not a hello, not a how are you, just nothing but the silence and the sounds of chewing. It was awkward for you to say the least. So you decided to break this uncomfortable silence, trying to bring up a more light hearted topic to hopefully bring some light to his dark room.

“So.. Anything new and funny happen with the twins?”

You knew he liked to leave the twins to fight and bicker without stopping them because it was fun to film their brawls. He could care less about them hurting each other by accident, it was entertaining to watch them fight. He didn’t respond, he simply kept chewing, his eyes lost in thought as they stared at the ground with nothing but a vacant empty iris with no color or hue. It was like all the color was sucked out of his eyes, and it was starting to take his skin too. He was getting paler as you sat and stared at him!

Maybe he didn’t hear you, so you repeated yourself a second time, not noticing how the moment you started speaking, his fists clenched and trembled as he gripped his pant legs.

“Rin?? Can you hear m—“

“God y/n can you shut the hell up please?!” He snapped, his fist slamming against the hardwood floor, making the house shake just slightly, making you jump in surprise and shock. Your eyes were wide, searching his gaze for a hint of guilt or remorse, maybe he was just stressed and overstimulated?

But his eyes were ice cold, filled with irritation and frustration, not a hint of remorse in them. Did.. did he really mean that?

Surely he didn’t.

No he didn’t, right?

…Right?

“S-sorry..” You couldn’t help but stutter a bit, taken aback by his sudden outburst. He continued eating in silence, you could practically feel his frustration and stress seething off of him like smoke. You purse your lips together, struggling to not release your tears.

You knew it wasn’t all that bad, but still, it hurt to hear him say that to you. You knew it wasn’t supposed to make you feel this horrible, but it did. No amount of convincing yourself it wasn’t that bad of a sentence would take away or lessen the pain it gave you.

About 39 minutes of dead silence followed, and you got up, taking all the empty cans and containers scattered across his room and sticking it all into a trash bag, tying it up and leaving it by his door for him to take out later. You decided that maybe it would be best to leave him alone, and grabbed your things, opening the door to leave, glancing back at your boyfriend who was studying, wearing his headphones. You wanted to say goodbye, you wanted to say you loved him and to not push itself too far. Most of all, you wanted to hear him say that he loved you. But judging from earlier, he probably wouldn’t even want to hear your voice at all.

“See you later Suna.” You muttered under your breath, closing the door behind you as you left. Did he even realize you were leaving? He didn’t even look up from his desk. He didn’t thank you for the food. He didn’t thank you for cleaning up. He didn’t thank you for trying to help him. Nothing you did was acknowledged. You went out of your way to help him, and it appeared that maybe that wasn’t the right thing to do.

You quietly walked down the steps, opening the front door and closing it behind you.

With your back against the wall, hidden from Suna’s family, that’s when you began to feel tears welling up in your eyes, falling down your cheeks as you hid your face in your sleeves. Why were you crying? Was the stress of the midterms catching up to you too? Or was it purely because of his outburst?

You didn’t know. Hell— you didn’t know anything did you? Obviously not it seemed.

a/n - idk why but I’m in a very angsty mood 😂 I’m sorry for hurting you guys I really am 😭😭😭