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charliemwrites · 4 months ago

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Squeeze Me, I Squeak!

While your interactions with Lieutenant Riley started out cold and tense, he's been warming up to your secondary specialty. Apparently, you make for a great stress-toy. (In which Ghost is a brat with authority, but you don't mind. You're a bit of a brat too.)

Original AO3 Link (I posted this a million years ago to AO3 and it was my first ever COD fic, inspired by a Discord chat and Badjhur audios. I figured it's about time I added it to the Tumblr masterlist for ease.)

Content: Dom/Sub Dynamics, Fraternization (therefore power imbalance), Medical Care (non-descriptive), Body Piercings, Safe/Sane/Consensual Intimacy

It starts with one simple catalyst: your cheeks.

You’ve been with the 141 for over half a dozen missions now. Three bullet grazes, two concussions, four sprains, and one nasty cold into your assignment under Captain Price, and quite pleased to be there. He’s a good leader, trustworthy and steadfast, a bastion of experience and skill shielding your unconventional squad from red tape and repercussion.

Time is a little more fluid for you as the combat medic. You’re awake about twice as long as you’re ever asleep. Anxiety tugs you from fitful rest to check on your patients – your boys – if any of them are laid up with more than a dislocation. It makes the days long, nights longer, and you’ve lost track of how many calendar months since you’ve officially been with the task force.

Long enough, though, that you feel like you’ve got a handle on your squad and their personalities.

Captain Price is a grump about medical care. He understands the necessity, but resents the paperwork, time, materials, energy that goes into it. He’s gracious to let you fuss (within reason) and you’re gracious to ignore his old man grumbling. And the cigars.

Gaz is an absolute peach. Sits still, asks for painkillers when he needs them, follows care instructions. The worst he does is whine, but that’s only for the silly little injuries and the occasional flu shot. He’s respectful, sometimes a little bashful, and friendly. He makes you feel welcome, bought you your first drink with the squad after a mission, and generally is a sweetheart.

Soap is fun. A bit rambunctious and fidgety on your table, but he tries, at least. Not as careful as you’d like him to be. He’ll give you a sheepish smile whenever you fuss that he’s pulling his stitches or straining a healing joint. He whines like a banshee over everything except the serious wounds, but paradoxically has to be strong-armed into painkillers for anything. He reminds you a bit of a husky.

His brand of friendliness comes with jokes and teasing, flirtations that he’s careful to never take too far. You’ll indulge him in return sometimes, especially if he’s having a rough go of it, but it’s all in good fun. A lot of your downtime is spent in his and Gaz’s company, chatting about anything and everything, playing video games, or trying (the operative word here) to read. He’s also, unfortunately, the one who came up with your nickname.

Then there’s the lieutenant. You call him “the lieutenant” because you get the impression that he’d toss you out a window if you dared even utter his call sign.

The 141 isn’t your first assignment; you’ve been a combat medic for long enough that you’ve seen the full range of patients in the military. You’re no stranger to the puffed-up hyper-masculine men that practically resent your specialization.

“Like they think I’ll take their Man Card just for getting a plaster,” you’d once commiserated with a fellow medic.

The lieutenant goes a step beyond that. The best you can get out of him on a good day are one-word answers. A good day is if he’s hauling someone else to you. When it’s him that needs the care, well… you two often don’t meet eye to eye. And not just because he’s roughly the size (and build) of a tank.

On your third mission with him, he suffered a knife wound to the hip. You hadn’t been able to judge how deep it was between his gear and his evasiveness and you’d lost your temper.

“Lieutenant Riley, stand fucking still,” you snapped.

“The fuck did you just say to me?” he snarled.

And oh, you regretted every word you’d ever spoken in that moment. Had felt, with some certainty, that enemy combatants were not going to be what did you in. Cursed Price a little too, blaming him for this somehow.

But you were tired and a little pissed and had about a million other things to do that weren’t chase after your lieutenant.

“I said standing fucking still,” you dared repeat, raising your voice.

“I’ll have you booked with insubordination so fast, your fucking head will spin,” he growled.

“Medical treatment outranks everyone, sir,” you snapped back, just as fast. You were already snapping gloves on; he was finally still, after all, even if it was to yell at you. “So if anyone can be written up, it’s you.”

“Lass—” Soap tried, but you were already ducking down, eyes narrowed and gauze in hand.

You were relieved to see that it wasn’t too bad. Slathered it with antibiotic and pinched it closed with butterflies, then straightened. It was done in under a minute and you were even more annoyed than before.

“All that for fucking what,” you grumbled to yourself. Not quietly enough, apparently.

“That’ll do,” the lieutenant barked.

The unholy burning in his eyes informed you that you’d pushed your luck far, far enough.

You shut up and skittered off, had not been written up for insubordination, but received a well-meant ‘cool it’ from Price afterwards.

And Lieutenant Riley was… well, he was himself.

He doesn’t make you bitch at him anymore, though – and you would be lying if you weren’t a bit proud of that. By no means is he jumping to get treated, but he comes to you for the serious injuries and obliges if you manage to catch the non-fatal stuff.

It’s not that you hold it against him. Medics are a sore spot for a lot of people, and Lieutenant Riley is more private than the average soldier. He’s never actively rude, at least, apart from that one spat. Gruff and short maybe, but not mean. And you’re quite happy to have that, at least.

Besides, he watches out for you in the field, where it matters. Has literally hauled you to safety by your straps more than once. Ensures you get into exfil before him. You’ve even caught him giving you a quick, assessing check that all your gear was secure and ready.

You and he bicker at each other still, and you don’t always come out victorious. There have been plenty of instances that he’s just marched away from you, long legs carrying him to some dark corner when he won’t entertain your nagging. Still, there’s growing respect between you two, you sense. He’s a solid CO, if much different from Price, confident and competent without being arrogant. And, well, he can be a bit rude (“abrupt” you demur to Soap, who cackles) but not disrespectful.

On his end, you think things change when he gets injured. Again. You don’t know exactly what’s happened, only that he was a little too close to an explosion. The edges of his balaclava are burnt, one damning edge melted to the skin of his neck. The real issue is the deep laceration that’s sliced through the fabric. From what you can see, it starts behind his ear and slashes around his temple to take a sizable chip from the edge of his hard mask.

His bell has been rung enough that he’s silent when Soap drops him on your cot.

You do a concussion test – thank whatever higher powers there might be that he passes – and reassess the situation. He’s bleeding, he’s burnt, his mask is a hindrance. Most other medics would pry the thing off and treat him regardless of his feelings on the matter.

But you’re not any other medic, you’re the 141’s medic. You have candy for Gaz and fidget toys for Soap and carry nicotine patches or gum for Price. Lieutenant Riley hardly even pulls his mask up to drink in front of you still. He doesn’t trust easily (maybe not at all) but you’ve managed not to fuck up this far and you won’t start now.

“Need to take the skull off,” you inform him, “the balaclava can stay.”

His shoulders drop just the smallest micro-fraction. You’ve made the right choice.

He lets you pull the hard mask away, eyes flickering to yours when you set it within his reach. You blink at him, just once, trying to convey that for all your differences and squabbles before, you’re his squad-mate, his medic, and you’re on his side.

Then you turn to the bleeding.

“Going to cut a bigger hole,” you warn.

You don’t know if he’s listening, if he cares, if he’d prefer you to be quiet. You do this for Gaz and Soap, and you’ll do it for him until he tells you otherwise.

The surgical scissors make a perfect, neat line through the fabric. Blood stains dirty blond hair beneath your gloves, flattening the curls. It’s a nasty wound, deep enough that it’ll need stitches. You tell him as much as you clean it, efficient without being rough. You don’t coddle your boys; they don’t need it. The kindest thing you can do is always to just get it over with.

As you numb his skin and prep the sutures, you begin explaining the care instructions. It’ll cut down the amount of time he’ll have to hang around after you’ve finished treatment.

You fall quiet as you start stitching him up, bottom lip between your teeth to focus on speed and accuracy. On your little rolling stool, you’re trying not to loom over his prone form. Plenty of soldiers have bad reactions to being leaned over like this, and you’d expect it from any of the 141.

Your hand is starting to cramp by the time you get to the sharp cheekbone where the injury ends, but it’s done – possibly in record time. As you sit back to check your work, you catch his eye. His gaze is so heavy that you’re shocked you didn’t feel its weight this whole time. There’s an odd glint to it, the calmest you’ve ever seen from him. Especially on your medical cot.

“All good, sir?” you ask.

“Affirmative.”

“The burn now.”

You don’t touch him, just direct his head at a good angle to treat his neck. You have to numb that too, see more of the tension drain from him when it takes effect. Christ, you hadn’t even noticed. He’s like a statue sometimes, bearing wounds that would have most other people in shambles.

“Burns are the worst,” you agree. “I hate getting them, hate treating them.”

“There anything you like treating?” he grumbles.

You hum. “Common cold. All you big boys get sleepy and nasally and pathetic.”

There’s a little puff of air that you recognize from comm banter with Soap – he’s amused. You’ve managed to get something like a laugh out of him. Buoyed by this, you proceed with the delicate process of treating melted fabric.

“Pathetic, eh? Tell Johnny you said that.”

“I already told him when he got sick,” you gloat. “He pouted. Might have a picture of it somewhere.”

When you chance to look away from your work, you catch his eye again, peering at you from his peripheral. You flash a grin – a little goofy from the high of a positive reaction – and then turn back.

“That legal?” he asks. “Pictures of patients.”

You arch an eyebrow, knowing he’ll see it. “Are you going to lecture me about GDPR, Lieutenant Riley?”

“Not if it doesn’t become my problem.”

You chuckle a little – heartened by your progress and by his unusual talkativeness. “Hasn’t yet,” you point out.

More likely to be Price’s problem, anyway. Probably.

He lets you fall silent again to concentrate. Despite the severity, the affected area is smaller than you initially thought. It’ll be painful and scar like hell, but no skin grafts are necessary. You report this with obvious relief – good news all around as far as you’re concerned.

When you’re finally done, you scoot your chair back and turn to his (heavily redacted) chart, scribbling out the diagnosis and treatment. As you’re signing your initials, he calls for you by last name, tugging your gaze up.

“Was there something else, Lieutenant?” you ask, already scanning him for other injuries.

“Need one more thing from you.”

You hum in question, folding his chart over. His hand comes up, still gloved.

And then he takes your cheek between thumb and forefinger. And pinches.

Your brain spits static, eyes going wide in shock and confusion. It takes you a beat to respond, and then only because his fingers tighten to the point it starts to ache.

“Ow, Lieutenant—” you complain, still too surprised to really snap, one eye closing to express discomfort.

He releases you, staring at the spot he just grabbed. It’s probably already turning red.

“Anyone ever tell you,” he drawls, slow and measuring, “how round your cheeks are?”

Now you’re red for a different reason. You rub at the skin and scrunch your nose, unsuccessfully telling yourself that you’re not pouting like you joked Soap did.

“No,” you huff, “because most people aren’t dumb enough to say that to their medic.”

Your brain still isn’t working right because there’s no way you’d be implying that Lieutenant Riley is dumb if it was. The most personable you two have gotten before now was him buying you a drink after a mission, but he’d been buying everyone else a drink at the time.

“Not afraid of you, Squeaks.”

“I’m aware, Lieutenant.”

You’re hoping he’ll drop it, a little confused but also a little… flattered? It’s difficult to parse what you’re feeling when he’s still staring at you with those dark, glittering eyes. Not that you’re looking. No, definitely not. In fact, you are doing your damnedest not to look at his eyes. Or his face.

Which is why you notice him tugging his glove off. And then reaching for you – for your face – again.

“Hey—” you start, but he’s already squeezing, just before the point you’d fussed last time.

“Want me to stop?” he asks.

… No.

“Want to know what you’re doin’,” you deflect, brows furrowing.

Why are you letting him do this? You shouldn’t let him do this. It’s not that it hurts. It’s just… principle. Military isn’t an especially touchy-feely cuddly career field. Soap and Gaz are fairly tactile, true, but not… like this. But, well, maybe you’ve missed it. This. Touches like this. Haven’t seen friends you’re close to in a long time, don’t have this kind of relationship with your family. Haven’t had a partner in… a depressingly long time, and even then, it always took a while to get to this level of casual intimacy – if you got there at all.

“Thought that was obvious,” the lieutenant replies.

The other hand, still gloved, finds your opposite cheek and pinches that one too. Your eyes are forced narrow as the skin is manipulated, bunched up. You make a noise in the back of your throat, tilting your head to accommodate.

“’S not,” you mumble. “Who are you, my auntie?”

“’M scarier than your auntie.”

You snort, edges of your mouth tugging up despite how he’s pulling your cheeks.

“Never met my auntie, then,” you giggle.

Noticing your grin, he lets one go, only to gently crush both in his ungloved hand. And god, it’s so big that he could span your jaw from middle finger to thumb. Instead, he smooshes your face until your mouth puckers. You must look like a fish – a dumbstruck, awkward fish.

“Sir,” you slur out. He squeezes a little tighter, cutting off your ability to speak. Good thing, probably; you’re not sure what you would have said next.

“Like a little stress ball you are,” he muses, almost to himself.

That does prompt a laugh from you, the absurdity of the entire situation making you a little light- headed. Here is your huge, terrifying lieutenant, practically more legend than man, squishing your cheeks like a particularly long-suffering but beloved pet. You, the team medic, the person who pokes and prods at them more often than not. The one person in the 141 that you always thought he barely tolerated.

“Next time I’m on the edge of tearin’ my hair out, I’ll just come to you for a squeeze.”

He emphasizes this with one last, extra scrunch that makes you humph in mild discomfort. But when he finally lets you go, you grin and shake your head, somehow more amused than annoyed or offended. It seems like you finally might be growing on your lieutenant. That’s nothing to sneeze at.

“Try it and you’ll lose a finger, sir,” you tease.

“Like to see you try it, Squeaks.”

Your mistake was thinking that Simon “Ghost” Riley makes idle threats. (Not that you think that he was threatening you; if he was you know you’d know it.)

He’s been out training recruits by himself – Gaz and Price on a mission, Soap laid up with a twisted knee – a task that already tends to irritate him. Add to that, the weather is fucking miserable. Hot as hell but also a little rainy, meaning that it’s humid as a swamp. Probably has been making his stitches and burn itch beneath the mask.

When he storms into the common room at the end of the day, you and Soap exchange looks. A lot of assassin-soldier to be barreling into a small room – and making a beeline straight for you.

“Uh, sir?” you yelp. Consider a tactical retreat, but even that brief deliberation is too long. He crowds you against the counter you were making tea at and grabs your face.

He still has his gloves on, rough and uncomfortable on your skin. You wrinkle your nose, try to pull back, but his grip is too tight, so you just submit yourself to whatever is happening.

Apparently, “de-stress” is happening.

His smooshes your face just like he had in the infirmary, and some of the tension in his shoulders drops. You blink as his grip relaxes, then tenses. And then again. And again. Again, again, again. It dawns on you that he’s literally treating your cheeks like his own personal stress ball.

You should be insulted. Outraged. You’re not a toy.

“All good, LT?” Soap ventures. Sounds like he’s defusing a bomb.

“Fine, Johnny,” Ghost replies, almost absently. “Long day.”

“Recruits bein’ idjets, then?”

“Fuckin’ muppets,” he agrees, less heated than he’d normally be.

Huh, you think. Is this… actually working?

You make eye contact with Johnny. He looks more blindsided than you, a bit like he’s witnessing your murder instead of being accosted by your strained lieutenant.

“Couldn’t find their way out of a paper bag with a map.”

He squeezes a little tighter as he says it, prompting a noise of protest from you. It doesn’t hurt yet, but your teeth are rubbing against soft tissue. He eases up again and meets your eyes, half-lidded and a touch warmer than you’re used to. The skin around his eyes eases bit by bit, and the line of his jaw beneath the balaclava looks relaxed.

You settle then, resting your weight back against the counter. Nothing untoward is happening, just Ghost being… honestly, a little weird. It’s a nice thought actually, that your big scary LT is a weirdo. The kind of weirdo that would rather squish his medic than a stress ball.

Makes sense in a way, with how he’s always covered up and keeping a safe distance (physically and emotionally) between himself and others. Probably touch starved. Not sure why he’s picked you, but you’re happy that he did.

After a few minutes you pat his wrist, a gentle double tap. Like sparring. He lets you go.

“I’m making tea if you’d like a cup?” you offer.

“Yeah, Sergeant. Earl Grey, left side of the cabinet.”

“Yessir.”

You can feel Soap squinting.

“Since when are you two so chummy, eh?” he asks.

“Since always,” Ghost replies as if Soap is an idiot.

With your back turned, he can’t see the grin that would surely give you away. “Yeah, Soap, where’ve you been?”

“Och, now you’re taking the piss.”

You hand Ghost his tea and sit down to let Soap rant.

It has become a habit. Ghost gets annoyed at recruits, paperwork, bad intel – your cheeks get squished like it’s a family reunion. He starts removing his gloves at least. Warm, calloused hands are much more comfortable than textured gloves. You’re starting to look forward to it, even.

It’s not a long process. He’ll come find you, smoosh up your face until you wrinkle your nose, and then continues with his day, shoulders looser than when he appeared. You usually complain, whine that you’re in the middle of something, that he didn’t even warn you, that his grip is too tight. But you never push him away or pull back. And he always honors your little tap-taps if you need to be freed before he’s ready to let go.

By this point, everyone on the team has seen it. Soap no longer brings it up, but sometimes informs you when Ghost appears with that Look about him. Gaz floundered the first time he saw it, stuttering and stumbling until Ghost told him to spit it out or shut up. Once after that, he asked if he could squeeze you for stress relief. You had to make Ghost let go from how tight his hand went. Gaz didn’t ask again.

Price, shockingly enough, takes in the situation, then settles you with a nonjudgmental look.

“Solid, Sergeant?”

“Yessir,” you manage around your pressed cheeks, adding a thumbs up.

“As you were, then.”

And that was that.

Of course, with jobs like yours, some days are more stressful than others. Some days are hell on Earth. This mission wasn’t quite that, but it did go to shit in a handbasket, and you’re ragged by the end of it. Gaz dislocated a shoulder, Soap is concussed. Price has a nasty road rash across one arm that he was a bit of an ass about tending – not that you’d say as much.

Even you are scuffed up. A hostile split your lip with a nasty jab that caught you off guard. (Ghost, right behind you at the time, stabbed the guy with vicious prejudice. You’re trying not to be flattered and trying not to think about what it means that you’re failing.) Besides that, you’re exhausted, dehydrated, and you’re pretty sure you hurt your back trying to stabilize Soap at some point.

Ghost is the only one that made it out unscathed as far as you can tell. You also know that that’s more likely to put him in a mood than if he’d suffered alongside you all. Cold and detached as he might seem, he doesn’t like seeing anyone in the 141 hurt on his watch.

You’re beside Soap, making sure he doesn’t fall asleep on the transport back to base, but you can feel Ghost’s eyes on you. You make eye contact across the aisle. His shoulders are tight, arms crossed, hands clenching and unclenching. He’s too disciplined to tap his foot or bounce his leg, but you know he would be if he was anyone else.

When you land, you send Soap to the infirmary for observation. Price decides on debrief after breakfast the next morning and slinks off to his office. Gaz follows after Soap to get painkillers and a sling. You shoot Ghost a long, tired look.

“Can’t be a stress ball today,” you tell him, “my mouth hurts.”

“I know.”

But still, he’s standing too close to you at the armory where you’ve returned your weapons. His shoulders are bent slightly towards you, hands twitching at his sides. In all honesty, you wish that you could do your usual destress routine – because as much as he seems to enjoy having something/someone to squeeze, you enjoy having to sit still for a few moments of physical contact just as much.

And after thinking Soap cracked his skull, Gaz lost his arm, your captain got skinned, you need to decompress. And you need to do it with Ghost, who saved each and every one of you today.

“C’mon,” you say and, taking a chance, grab his hand.

He hums in question, but allows you to lead, careful not to grip too tight. The bones there are too delicate, and you need them in working order as their medic. He can’t be so rough with them.

You practically drag him to the common room and put on the kettle. Understanding, Ghost preps the mugs and sachets of preferred tea. When the water is hot enough, you each make your tea, then tug him to the couch. You direct him into the corner – and it’s only then that you hesitate.

Instinct is to climb into his lap. He’s a big man and you want to be cradled, but you also suspect the weight and warmth of another body would be soothing to him too. Instead, you clamber up as close to him as you can get, wedging your shoulder against his rubs and encouraging his arm around you.

It seems like he hesitates for a moment too. This is the most contact you two have ever had, regardless of how close he usually stands when he’s squeezing your face. Right now, you’re pressed together all down one side, your thigh overlapping his a little. After a moment, though, he releases a long breath and curls his arm around you. His hand settles naturally on your hip.

It’s not long after that that the squeezing starts.

He's still got his gloves on and the skin on your hip is sensitive, usually hidden under layers of clothes, but you’re too snuggled in to disturb the arrangement now. Between the heat he radiates like a furnace, and your steaming tea, you’re quickly cozy and spaced out. The rhythm of his hand kneading plush flesh is soothing, something to drift back to while your mind goes blissfully blank of anything but safe, warm, comfy, quiet.

At some point, your mostly empty cup is plucked from your hand. You mumble a thank you and curl in closer, both legs over his lap now. His other hand rests on your lower thigh, just above your knee, and begins squeezing there too. Almost a massage, if not for the near-rough way he grips you.

“Like a cat,” you mumble, head lolling onto his shoulder.

“Hm?”

“Cat making biscuits.”

There’s a huff of air. You smile faintly and tilt your head away from the suddenly too-bright lights of the common room. Don’t even realize you’ve tucked into his neck until he rubs his jaw over the top of your head.

“’S nice,” you whisper.

He hums. You think it might be agreement. Must be, Ghost wouldn’t be entertaining this if he didn’t. It’s a reassuring thought to drift off with, knowing that no matter what you want, he’ll never do something just to be nice.

You wake the next morning horizontal, something too firm to be a pillow under your head. When you sit up a little, Ghost’s dark eyes are peering at you, heavy as usual, but not as sharp. His chest rumbles beneath your chin in greeting.

“Mine or yours?” you mumble.

“Mine.”

You hum, too sleepy to let the implications of such a big gesture make you anxious right now.

“You’re a bad pillow,” you say instead.

It’s a lie. He’s a wonderful pillow. Jacked as he is, all that muscle is so plush and cushiony when it’s relaxed like this. Helps, also, that he’s still so warm.

“Slept on me just fine,” he grunts. “Drooled a little, too.”

“Did not.”

“Explain the wet spot on my tits then.”

You say the first thing that comes to mind. “Lactating.”

“You’re a freak.”

“Stones in glass houses, sir.”

You close your eyes again for a moment, enjoying the dark room and heat beneath you. The best night of sleep you’ve gotten in a long while, honestly. Especially with so much of the team injured.

There’s a tug at your hair, gentler than you usually get from Ghost.

“Get the fuck up, Squeaks,” he gruffs without any heat. In fact, he sounds like he’d rather you didn’t. “Need to piss and eat.”

“At the same time?” you tease. You’d sound more scandalized if you weren’t still half asleep.

“You’re fucking disgusting.”

He rolls you onto the mattress and pushes himself up.

“Meet back here in fifteen. Fresh clothes, fresh face.”

“Gonna squish it?” you ask.

“Maybe later, see how the day goes.” He pinches one of your cheeks anyway. Still rougher than most people would be, but for him it’s downright tender. You try not to lean into it, not sure if you succeed. Don’t think either of you cares, really.

You lay there for another moment, listening to him bustle around his quarters, getting new clothes it sounds like.

“How copy, sergeant?”

“Solid, sir.”

“Fifteen.”

“Yessir.”

You haul yourself up and trudge out of his room for a shower. Gonna need all fifteen of those minutes.

Breakfast is a quiet but pleasant affair. Gaz is using his sling and sore as all hell, but in high spirits. Soap is exhausted from two-hour wakeups and the sensitivity the concussion has left him with. The painkillers are helping, and despite all that, he’s in a decent (if slightly subdued) mood.

You snatch up a couple of dry muffins and an orange juice for Price before heading to debrief, plopping it all on his desk when you enter his office. Your efforts are rewarded with a fond smile.

Gaz and Soap take the two single chairs, probably afraid of falling asleep on the couch. That’s where you and Ghost end up, you pressed up against the arm and him… right next to you.

Not that you’re complaining. His thigh pressed against yours is a nice comfort. Reminiscent of how he made you feel the night before. A reminder that he’s here, that he’s solid and safe while you all recount the mission from the day before. If Price is shocked by you two practically nested up together, he doesn’t show it.

Somewhere along the way, your hand reaches for something to fiddle with. You’re not as restless as Soap, but you like something to keep busy while you’re thinking or anxious. Usually you tear up the inside of your mouth biting your lips, but you don’t want to aggravate the healing split. Your fingers land on the pocket of Ghost’s cargos. The material is thick, the stitching an interesting texture, and the pockets have snaps that are quiet enough to play with during debrief.

Ghost lets you fidget in peace, only giving you a slight nod when you glance at him to check. His arm is resting along the couch behind you, and you can feel his fingers twisting into your loose hair. Fair exchange, you figure, and settle in.

There’s a brief call with Laswell to discuss next steps. You listen, but not closely. You’re just a medical sergeant after all. Your opinion is considered when offered, but you’re not much of a strategist or tactician. Mostly, you go where you're directed, do as you're told, and keep everyone in one piece as best you can.

When it’s over, Soap helps haul you off the couch while Ghost stands, clipping his thigh pocket closed again.

“Good to see you two getting along,” Price calls as you’re leaving.

You glance over your shoulder, catch the smirk on his face, and stick out your tongue. And then promptly bolt, lest you be reprimanded for insubordination. It’s a common threat in the 141; you’re not sure if anyone has actually been written up for it outside of a mission. You don’t want to be the one to find out, though.

Soap cackles at you, Gaz calls you chicken shit. Ghost ruffles your hair and steers you towards his office.

“Oi, where are you two off to?” Gaz asks.

“Paperwork,” Ghost replies shortly.

News to you, but sure. Some company would be nice while you fill out forms. That becomes mildly more difficult when he plops you into his lap, but you make do. Ghost keeps his office cold – all those layers, you figure – and the chair across from his desk is purposefully uncomfortable to discourage lingering. His broad thighs make a much better, warmer seat. The fact that he circles an arm around your waist, hugging you like a kid with a teddy bear is just a bonus. For all that, you’d figure out how to do reports on water.

You two should probably talk about this, or something. There are regulations or codes of conduct prohibiting this sort of behavior. Never mind that the interpersonal lines (the ones you actually care about) are starting to blur. But well, you don’t have a problem with all this, and you wouldn’t be breathing if he did. So, well, there’s not much to talk about, is there?

“Hey, LT?”

“Mm.”

You watch him sign the bottom of a report, his signature an efficient and jagged thing, somehow still elegant. Like watching him practice with his knives. He flexes his hand when it’s done. You two have been at it for a while now. He hasn’t said a word, but you know Ghost despises paperwork. You could both use a break.

“You ever seen Halloween?”

“The horror movie?” He pauses, thinks about it. “Yeah.”

“The next one is going to take place in the summer. Guess he’ll be Michael Perspires.”

He goes still behind you. “What.”

“He’s gotten a job as an electrician. Michael Wires.”

You keep your face forward and down, pretending to work, trying to swallow back hysterical giggles.

“Squeaks…”

“He’s into arson now as well. Michael Fires.”

His arm tightens around your waist. You wish you could see his face, but you know you’ll break if you look. “Shut the fuck up.”

“He didn’t tell the truth on his resume. Michael Liars.”

“If you make another shitty Michael Myers pun, I swear to god—”

“You don’t like them?” you ask, grin so wide it hurts. “I’m going to Michael Cry-ers.”

“God fucking dammit, Squeaks.”

You burst into laughter that is quickly cut short by his arm constricting like a snake. Even with your air supply diminished, wheezing a bit, you kick your feet in delight.

“G-Guess… guess you’re…” you struggle to get it out between the lack of oxygen and your giggles. “Guess you’re M-Michael Tires of this joke.”

“I’m going to make you regret breathing at our next sparring session.”

And oh, you believe him. Your LT doesn’t make idle threats. But you’re telling yourself that it’s so worth it this time. Soap is going to give you a fucking medal for this. You know, assuming Ghost doesn’t snipe you when you try to tell the story.

You’re still cackling, but it turns to squeals when you feel sharp pressure on your shoulder.

He’s biting you.

“L-LT!” you gasp, scrabbling to push at his forehead without dislodging his mask. “Fine, fine, I’ll stop!”

He growls, the sound burning through you, straight to the pit of your stomach. You choose to ignore that in exchange for the oddly ticklish sensation of him gnawing through your shirt.

Knowing by now that you won’t be free until he’s ready, you just try to sit still and not spur him on further. After a moment, he unlocks his jaw and speaks in your ear, voice low but unmistakably amused.

“Medic, stress ball, comedian, chew toy – anything you can’t do, Sergeant?” he snarks.

You scrunch your nose at this new designation. “I am not a chew toy.”

“Seem pretty chewy to me,” he muses, sinking his teeth in again. You bark out reactive laughter and squirm, but his hold hasn’t loosened a bit and you’re trapped against him.

“LT,” you complain like usual. “You’re going to leave a mark.”

He doesn’t respond verbally, but you feel his teeth dig in a little harder. Well, that’s new. You still don’t push him away, a not-so-small or secret part of you pleased by the idea of him leaving a bruise. It wouldn’t even be visible. Just something to remind you of the trust your lieutenant has in you, in the bond you two have formed, unorthodox as it is.

You hand him a bottle of water when he finally releases you, to sooth his undoubtedly dry mouth. There’s a wet patch on your shirt (and probably your underwear) but you ignore it to return to your reports. He seems a little less reluctant to join you now, pleasingly.

You’re not so sure about the “chew toy” thing, but you definitely seem to be an effective stress relief.

You’re having a great day. No one is injured, you’re caught up on paperwork. You pinned both Soap and Gaz during sparring earlier, earning a proud nod from Ghost and Price. There were pudding cups at lunch, and you’ve made plans with the rest of the team to watch a movie in the common room tonight. Even your antisocial LT agreed to come.

In fact, he’s the first one there when you arrive in the early evening. You chirp a hello, heading for the pantry for popcorn. Soap and Gaz can’t be trusted to make it without setting off the fire alarms.

Ghost hums in return, but he seems content to scroll on his phone, saving his energy for socializing. You don’t mind his silence, never do. Not like he can chat when he’s biting you like a teething puppy. And he has been. A lot. His new favorite form of stress relief, apparently, apart from squishing your cheeks like usual.

If there’s privacy for it, his teeth have been imprinting your arms, shoulders, even your hands in perfect pinpricked circles. He’s not any gentler about it than he is smooshing up your face, and a couple times now you’ve discovered bruises later on. You suspect that’s his aim, especially when he’s more aggravated than stressed. A way to release aggression without wasting bullets at the range or beating the stuffing out of someone in the ring.

You don’t mind, no matter how you complain aloud. It was a sudden step up in intimacy, but you like the feeling of his teeth on you. A way to get that soothing moment of forced stillness without losing the ability to speak, eat, or look around. And you’d be lying if you said you didn’t like the mark either. Feels like a claim, one you’re not sure is actually being made – but you’re allowed to dream.

That said, Ghost is a bastard about it. If you thought he was pushy before, pinching your cheeks at inopportune times, the biting could almost be classified as a nuisance. Several times now, someone has walked into the common room to your forearm between Ghost’s jaws. You’ve lost count of how many conversations with Soap or Gaz have been interrupted by your lieutenant’s canines sinking into your shoulder or the meat of your thumb, tongue swiping excess saliva from bare skin.

You’re ruminating on this as your fellow sergeants filter in, joking and laughing about something stupid the recruits did earlier.

Ghost has hardly looked up from his phone, only jerks his head in acknowledgement when they greet him. His shoulders are loose; he’s relaxed. You know better than to mistake it for being unaware of the environment, but… well, if there were ever a time for payback…

You leave the popcorn to finish in the microwave and stroll over to the couch. To your delight, Ghost shuffles a little to make room for you, an obvious invitation to cuddle up. It’s almost enough to distract you from your mission. Almost.

You perch on the edge of the cushion, hook a thumb under the edge of his shirt. The break in routine draws his attention but doesn’t seem to raise any alarms. He flicks his gaze up from the screen to catch your eyes. You lock gazes, tug the fabric up just the tiniest sliver. Then dart down and blow a deafening raspberry into the toned skin of his stomach.

There’s a moment of dead silence. Then you scramble up and bolt, yelping when you hear the heavy thump of boots behind you.

“Squeaks, you little shit!” he snarls, Manchester accent thicker than usual. And he gives Soap shit.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” you lie, revealed by your breathless giggles.

“I’ll make you sorry!”

You believe him.

You skitter around Price, calling a frantic “hi, sir” as you stumble to keep your footing. Ghost doesn’t even bother with pleasantries, solely focused on getting ahold of you. Your only saving grace is being able to take corners faster than him, but his long legs eat distance like nothing and it’s only two hallways later that you’re snatched right off your feet.

You squeal, not sure if it’s in terror or delight, as he hauls you up and over one broad shoulder.

“Ghost, wait no, I didn’t mean it!”

“Sure fucking seemed to,” he growls, manhandling a better grip on you.

You put up a bit of a struggle, but there's no question who would win even if you really did fight him. Instead, you press against his chest and arms, laughing as his fingertips dig roughly into your hips and thighs and waist.

“Earning your nickname today,” he mocks as he lugs you back to the common room.

When you arrive, Soap groans in dismay at your failure, Gaz taunts you for thinking you could get away with your stunt. Price just shakes his head, playing at exasperated but unable to hide his fondness. Ghost all but tosses you onto the couch and before you can scramble up, flops on top of you. All the breath is forced from your lungs with a little oof, feeling a bit like those animals that can flatten themselves to squeeze into small crevices.

“LT, I can’t breathe,” you whine. “You’re heavy.”

The cushions on the couch aren’t luxurious by any means, but they’re forgiving enough that you can, in fact, breathe. It’s just a little more difficult than usual. Not difficult enough to tap out, though. You like the weight of him on you.

“Should have thought about that before being a little shit.”

You grumble; don’t really have an argument for that but unwilling to cede the point.

“Oi, you two done?” Gaz calls. “I wanna watch the movie.”

Price snorts. Soap, angel that he is, offers you the bowl of popcorn.

“No one told you to wait, sergeant,” Ghost replies, bland.

“Yeah,” you second, muffled and admittedly pathetic sounding. “Takes you five minutes to figure out the sound anyway.”

“We all know you’re going to put the subtitles on, don’t know why the volume matters,” Soap chimes in.

“It’s only for the Captain’s sake,” Gaz defends.

“Now what are you implying, Garrick?” Price asks, silky and dangerous.

You snuggle in happily, enjoying the moment of peace and companionship. No shooting, no bleeding, no nightmares. Just the five of you, alive and healthy, enjoying this little family they’ve built and brought you into.

You don’t even realize you’ve fallen asleep until the pressure is gone, Ghost wedging his arms between your lax body and the couch. It’s cold without him as a personal blanket, and you curl into his arms with a discontent noise.

“Atta girl, Squeaks. I got you,” he rumbles.

You crack an eye open to check on everyone else by instinct. Gaz and Soap are leaning on each other, lightly snoring. It looks like Price is about to rouse them as well, but he shoots you and Ghost an especially soft look.

“Taking this one to bed, sir.”

“Be good to our girl, Lieutenant,” Price nods.

“As good as she is to us,” Ghost agrees.

You’re half-sure that you’re dreaming, but you smile at them both before tucking in and falling asleep again.

The next morning starts in Ghost’s bed, a place you find yourself often enough now that you recognize it as quickly as your own. You’re all tangled up in each other, more than usual. There are fingers in your hair, scraping across your scalp. You could purr it feels so good, pressing your face into Ghost’s chest to let him get a new spot.

“Didn’t even make it halfway through the movie,” he teases.

“Seen it before.”

“Gaz is going to be cross.”

“He’ll understand – getting chased takes a lot of you.”

“Don’t make me chase you down, then.”

You snort. If you have any say in it, you’ll be instigating games like that much more. Something about the big scary Ghost dashing after you over a stupid little prank – and knowing that the worst you’ll get out of it is a forceful cuddle – is not the deterrent it should be.

Still, there’s a pattern to this little game of yours. You can’t admit that you enjoy the play.

“Not my fault you can’t take what you dish,” you reply, twisting to nip his chest through his shirt, as if to prove your point.

It’s sharper than you would be with anyone else. Ghost, though, hums low and rough in his throat.

“I’ve never done that bullshit you pulled last night,” he grumbles.

“Lack of imagination on your part.”

He huffs, pinches your cheek and chuckles when you whine in complaint, muttering that it’s too early for his shit.

“C’mon, Squeaks, up and at ‘em. Before Soap takes all the blueberry.”

“Yessir…” you groan.

Ghost has been away. Price sent him and Gaz off on a stealth assignment, something that Soap is less suited to. Not that he couldn’t do it if needed, but it’s more Gaz’s specialty, so Price sent him. Soap isn’t too bummed about it, though. He’s been wreaking havoc around base with you casually egging him on from the sidelines, feeding into his chaos without being directly involved.

Not that Price would see it that way if he caught wind. But he hasn’t, so you’re not in trouble yet.

You might be after this though.

One drink too many, Soap complaining that you always play it safe. And, to his credit, you do. He and Gaz are the troublemakers, you just like to watch and occasionally add your two cents to the explosive mix. Price has joked before that you’re the best behaved amongst the group, even over Ghost.

Not only are you the least experienced with combat, but you’re also the team medic. It often leaves you feeling like you have to maintain a certain level of decorum and responsibility alongside your officers. It’s no wonder that you try to stay on the straight and narrow – the occasional snippy comment aside.

But this is beyond anything you’ve dared.

Soap has had enough to point out the parlor down the street and dare you. You’ve had enough to be goaded into spitefully proving a point. If Gaz were here, he might be clever enough to dare Soap into something else to get him to back down. If Ghost were here, he’d scruff you both like unruly kittens and haul you back to base. If Price were here, you’d be running laps until you puke.

Instead, it’s just you and Soap. Ghost and Gaz aren’t due back for a week and half, Price is probably buried waist deep in paperwork as usual. And there’s no one to tell you not to.

And so Soap gets his nipples pierced and you get your tongue re-pierced, and you both wake up the next day a little hungover and a lot sore.

You consider taking it out but… well.

You kinda missed having it.

And you want to see how long it’ll take Ghost to notice if you use your discreet jewelry.

You give Soap painkillers for his nipples and promise to hook him up with a good jewelry store recommendation. Then you spend the rest of the day trying not to talk. The rest of the week, really. If anyone notices, they don’t mention it. Soap is always happy to talk for the both of you.

By the time Gaz and Ghost return, it hardly hurts anymore. Still healing, yes, but it only aches in the mornings now. You fit the flat-topped, clear ring into the piercing and go to meet the boys on the tarmac.

They exit the aircraft together, Gaz chatting about something and Ghost humoring him in characteristic silence. When the latter sees you, though, he makes a beeline. You let out a surprised but pleased noise as you’re scooped up, mask wedging into the space beneath your jaw to press against your neck.

“Welcome back, sir,” you manage, squeezing his shoulders.

He grunts in reply. You shoot Gaz a questioning look.

“It was slow going,” he explains, “And the guys on the transport back were, uh, chatty.”

Ah. Set on your feet again, his gloved hands rise to squish your face like usual.

“Do the thing,” he gruffs.

You wrinkle your nose. Partially out of embarrassment, and partially because he’ll see the piercing if you’re not careful.

“That captain is—”

“That’s an order, sergeant.”

You sigh. Then poke your tongue out as he smooshes your face further. He exhales like the first hit of nicotine for the day. You keep the jewelry hidden behind your teeth and are released a few seconds later.

“That’s the stuff,” he says.

“Christ, LT, don’t say it like that,” you complain.

Unsurprisingly, he ignores you, turning to Price.

“Debrief now?”

“If you and Gaz don’t need medical.”

They both shake their heads, and you make no secret that you’re pleased by this news.

As you head into the building, you find Ghost’s finger hooked into your belt loop, tugging you along to Price’s office. You don’t mention it, only arch an eyebrow when you catch his eye.

At the door, Price pauses, giving Ghost a long, exasperated look.

“You know she’s not actually a service animal, son?”

“The intel isn’t confidential.”

Price sighs, drags a hand down his face. “Suppose not. Get the fuck in, then, Squeaks.”

You get the fuck in.

As usual, Ghost stands, and you’re obliged to stand with him. In front of him, actually, his chin settling on top of your head while his hands settle on your shoulders, squeezing and kneading at the muscle. You tune out most of the conversation, only here for Ghost’s sake, apparently.

Not that you mind. There’s a large, loud part of you that is glowing with the knowledge that he missed you so much.

When it’s over, he doesn’t even bother to stop at the mess hall. He picks you straight up and strides off to his quarters. You complain that he needs to eat, or at least drink water, but he doesn’t even deign your fussing with a response.

He closes and locks the door when you’re both inside, then tosses you on the bed. It smells overwhelmingly of him: metal, gunpowder, standard issue detergent, and something spicy. It’s a scent you’ve become intimately familiar with – could get addicted to, if you let yourself.

You settle in amongst the crisp sheets and thin pillows, Ghost sheds his tac gear like a second skin. When he’s down to his undershirt and boxers, barefoot on the cold ground, you open your arms.

He climbs over you as you giggle, then unapologetically drops all his weight. You make your usual little oof sound, suspecting that he likes it, and tilt your head so he can press his face (without the skull mask) into your shoulder.

“So how was it actually?” you ask.

“Gaz was antsy the whole time. Said he sensed you and Soap up to something without him.”

You snort, relieved that he can’t see the damning expression on your face right now.

“There isn’t anything to get up to when he’s not here causing it,” you lie.

“Don’t put anything past Soap, the crafty cunt.”

You grin, patting your hands lightly over his shoulder blades. “Nice alliteration.”

He hums, slowly going boneless beneath your rhythmless tapping.

“Mask,” he mutters.

It takes you a second to realize what he wants.

“You’re asking me to pull it up so you can bite me?” you scoff.

“Telling, not asking,” he grumbles.

“Oh for the love of…”

You do it anyway. It’s not long before you feel his teeth, always sharper than you expect, latch onto the base of your neck. You tilt your chin back to give him comfortable access, staring up at the ceiling. How often does he sit here after nightmares, staring at it? Does he do it even when you sleepover, clinging onto him like a koala?

You lay like that for a while, fingers finding the fine blond hair peeking out from his rolled balaclava and scritching. One of his hands wedges beneath himself to find your hip, squeezing you tight enough that his nails scrape across your pants.

“So what did you two get up to?” he asks, detaching eventually.

Your neck is aching pleasantly, mind drifting in peace, and you don’t realize what he’s asking at first.

“What?” you ask.

You try to suppress a shiver as his tongue drags over the saliva he left on your neck. This is a normal part of the process, but that doesn’t mean you’re immune to the pleasure it sends down your spine.

“You and Soap,” he clarifies. “What did you do?”

“It was mostly Soap,” you deflect, forgoing any attempt at innocence.

He snorts. “My problem?”

You consider, humming. “Probably not.”

“Probably?”

You shrug. “Don’t leave me unattended if you don’t want paperwork.”

He nips sharply at the hinge of your jaw. “Didn’t want to. Price said you don’t have enough experience if things went to shit.”

You don’t know how to feel that Ghost would have preferred you on a mission with him. Even over Soap? You know he’s fond of you, but you didn’t realize it was enough to have you partnered with him on missions. It makes your chest warm and fluttery. The bastard.

“He’s right,” you say instead of something unforgivably sentimental.

“Imagine he’ll overlook that when he finds out about your body candy.”

You squeak, eyes closing in regret. Well, it was a nice life while it lasted.

“That fast?” you ask.

“Saw it as soon as you opened that pretty mouth,” he answers.

“It’s clear!”

“Thought I wouldn’t see a piece of plastic in your mouth, sergeant?”

You sigh, barely even noticing the bite he leaves on your collarbone. When he pushes his chest up to look at you, he’s half-lidded, almost lazy looking. But the corner of his mouth quirks up, just that slightest bit you’ve become hypervigilant of. Your hands slide from his shoulders and curl into the front of his shirt.

“How much trouble am I in?” you venture.

“A world of it,” he replies, voice pitching low and rough in a way that’s just not fair.

“Soap did worse,” you complain, not above throwing him under the bus. This is his fault anyway.

“Don’t care what Soap did. Care that you tried to hide it from me.”

He catches your chin between thumb and forefinger, gives it a little shake like a reprimand.

“Wasn’t hiding it,” you argue. “At least not from you. Would have told you by the end of the week if you hadn’t noticed.”

And you really would have. If Price hadn’t been present on the tarmac, you had half a mind to show it off immediately, excited to be breaking the rules.

Ghost hums, eyes roving your face – apparently to determine the truth of your confession.

“Doesn’t mean you’re off the hook,” he warns.

But you know that tone of voice by now. You’re not off the hook yet.

“…Want me to take it out?” you try.

His eyes go from dark to pitch black. “No.”

Oh?

Oh.

“Want… to see it?”

He hums. Not quite confirmation, but close enough. You don’t even think before dropping your jaw, tongue rolling out over your bottom lip. He let out a short, hard breath. You see his jaw twitch.

Then he shifts.

His thumb lands on your tongue, much farther back than you expect but you don’t flinch. He draws a line down the center to the flat top of your piercing and then presses down. You make a protesting noise, a warning because it’s still new and still sore. He doesn’t let up but doesn’t push any harder.

“Squeaks.”

You flutter your eyes open (when did they close?) and meet his eyes. They nearly absorb all the light in the room, twin blackholes drawing you in, inescapable and immutable. There’s a hunger lurking within, one you realize with a jolt you’ve been seeing for a long time now.

Whatever he sees on your face, it makes him run his tongue along his own teeth – pearly white and perfectly straight. Then he ducks down and licks over your piercing, first in neat sweeps, and then in tight little circles around its circumference.

Trapped beneath him and mouth open, you can’t swallow back the whine that peels from your throat. You’d be embarrassed about it; except the noise you make when he stops is so much worse.

“Taste good,” he rumbles.

“This another stress thing?” you ask, dizzy and flushed.

He smirks, chuckles deep in his chest. “If it is, will you let me do it whenever I want?”

You nod, thoughts blurring at the edges. His smirk widens, but he obliges when you tug at his shirt, wanting him close, wanting him to do it again.

It takes a long time for it to evolve into an actual kiss. He spends what feels like a small eternity flicking his tongue over your piercing, around it. It’s an unusual sensation, not quite ticklish, but decadent and erotic. At some point, quiet little noises start spilling from your throat and don’t stop. He doesn’t seem to mind, pressing down when the pitch goes higher – or maybe you pitch higher because he’s closer?

Eventually your jaw tires from hanging open, tongue aching at the stretch. You retract back into your own mouth, but Ghost chases after. It’s like he forgot about actual kissing until that moment. And then he has something new to amuse himself with. His tongue explores your lips, the roof of your mouth, the back of your throat. He drags his sharp teeth over your bottom lip, growls when you return the favor in retaliation for the sting.

“That’s my girl,” he rasps, “my medic.”

You hum, reciprocate the thorough exploration he just gave you. He tastes a little metallic, but mostly he tastes like Ghost, like Simon, and it’s addicting.

“Think it’s a stress thing for me too,” you murmur when you pull away for air.

“Yeah?” He trails his mouth down your jaw, teeth scraping. “Anxious while I was gone?”

You nod. You always worry about the boys when they’re away, when you’re not there for a worst-case scenario. But you thought about your lieutenant especially, wondering at his mood, at his feelings, without your usual daily interactions. His absence left you feeling twitchy, a little unmoored. You wonder – hope – if he felt the same.

“Take what you need, then,” he whispers. “Don’t mind returning the favor.”

You sink your nails into his shoulders, rake them down his back and sides, treating him like a scratching post. He shivers, puffs out a hot breath by your ear. Your mouth finds that strong, sharp jaw and latches on, sucking and biting, worrying the skin until you pull away to a dark bruise.

“Go on,” he urges.

You do, making a trail down his neck, then across. Tug at his shirt when it gets in the way. He leans back to pull it over his head. You nearly tackle him, mapping out the swell of hard muscles, licking over the angry lines you clawed into him.

“Easy now, precious,” he purrs. “No rush.”

You make a disagreeing noise, lips never leaving his skin. One hand tangles in your hair, petting and holding, not guiding. His other drifts down to your ass and grips like a vice. It hurts a little; it feels so fucking good. There will be bruises for days.

When your nails scratch across his hip, he bucks, fingers spasming against your scalp.

“Careful,” he growls. “Asking for something you might not be ready for.”

You hum. “Maybe,” you agree honestly. “I’ve never…”

He goes rigid. Worried, you glance up. His bare chest (marked up by your hands and mouth) is heaving. His jaw is slack, lips wet. You can’t distinguish between pupil and iris anymore.

“You swear?” he asks, rough. “You’ve never fucked anyone before?”

“No,” you say, not embarrassed, not with him. “Got close, but never managed it. Things always got in the way. Used to be a joke with my friends, that I was cursed.”

A fire alarm, an oblivious roommate, police knocking on the door, the roof falling in, once.

“You have experience,” he asserts.

“Definitely.” You quirk a wicked smile his way. “Plenty of practice with my mouth…”

He shudders, tilting your head to a vulnerable angle, neck exposed.

“And my hands,” you add, gasping.

“You keep pushing, pet…” he rumbles.

You whine. “Want to, with you. Want it to be you, Simon.”

His lips crash into yours, messy and filthy, licking all the needy sounds from your mouth.

“Strip, sergeant. Now.”

You scramble to obey, wiggling out of your clothes as quickly as you can while still half under him.

“Always so good for me,” he hums. “Always follow my orders, my good little sergeant.”

“Yours,” you breathe against his mouth.

The last scrap of clothing is barely off when he pounces, hand flattening on your stomach and pressing you down into the mattress. It nearly knocks the wind out of you, the force of it, pinning you. His eyes hungrily lock on your chest, on the smooth and unmarked skin of your breasts.

If you wanted to protest, you don’t get the chance to. He descends on you like a starving man, all teeth and tongue, practically mauling you. You squirm, not sure where you want to go, just that it’s a lot of sensation all at once. He captures a perked nipple between his lips and sucks until you keen, knee bumping his flank like you want to kick him off.

He slots his hips between yours, presses up tight to trap you further. His free hand grasps at your other breast. Kneading roughly, then twisting and plucking at the rosy nipple until you’re crying out, nearly thrashing. When he’s satisfied, he switches his hand and mouth, spinning you up and up until your breasts are aching and the best kind of sore. He finally pulls off with a lewd pop, mouth slick, rosettes left all over you in his wake.

“Trying to kill me,” you pant.

He smirks, drops one last soothing kiss on your sternum. Then extricates himself to remove the last of his own clothing. His dick springs free from his waistband, slapping obscenely against his stomach. You freeze when the dim light glints off bits of metal.

“Is that…?”

“Come find out.”

You scoot to the edge of the bed and brush your fingertips over the hypnotizing ladder of studs along the shaft. Which, now that you’re closer and your hand is there for scale, is huge. Like, almost pornographic. You didn’t know that existed outside of raunchy media. That’s been under you, snuggled up to you, beneath your ass – for months now.

“Oh my god, Simon,” you gulp. “Is that going to…?”

“It will if you can be patient for me.”

“Okay,” you say, eyes never leaving the glittering silver row. You trust him. As rough as he can be, he’s never hurt you. Not in any way you didn’t crave.

His hand catches your chin again, tips your gaze back to his. “Another time, lovely. Give your tongue a break.”

You whine but sit back on your haunches, hands planted between your knees. “Then hurry up.”

His thumb caresses your jaw, presses in warning. “Patient, I said.”

“I’ve been patient,” you argue. “Gimme.”

That coaxes a chuckle out of him. He plants a hand on your shoulder and shoves. You land on your back again, stretch your legs to hang over the side of the bed. He lowers to his knees between them, thick thighs flexing. His hands slide under your hips and drag until your thighs are over his shoulders.

“Fuck,” you breathe, “Simon.”

“That’s it, lovely,” he coos, teeth grazing your hip. “Just lay there saying my name. Let me play with my toy.”

You’re so wet that you can feel it all over your inner thighs, would be embarrassed if not for the absolutely feral noise he makes at the sight.

“Made a mess.” He draws his tongue up your thigh, sucks at the junction where it meets your hip, loud in the quiet room. “You always like this for me?”

“Mhmm,” you whimper out, squeezing your eyes shut. It’s true. You can’t count the number of times you’ve gone back to your room just to change panties.

“That’s my girl.”

He spends an agonizing amount of time licking, biting, and sucking your thighs. Your pleading and whining is met with indifference or absent chuckles. The need has long since tipped over into desperation, muscles twitching with little sparks of pleasure at every graze of teeth and sharp suck.

You’re already both understimulated and overstimulated when he clamps down especially hard, think he’s broken skin for a moment. Frustrated tears have been dancing at the edges of your vision for a while now and they spill over at the blissful burn that shoots through your leg.

“Simon, Simon, please,” you sob, “please, want it. Please, just—”

He shushes you, soothing the hurt with his tongue until your babbling trails off into little sniffles.

“How copy?” he hushes.

“S-Solid,” you answer. “Just a lot.”

“Tactical retreat?”

“No.” You take a shuddering breath. “No, please. Want to keep going, sir.”

His breath is also unsteady as it brushes over your sensitive skin. “Alright, precious. Tap out if you need.”

You snake a hand down the bed and find his wrist, digging your nails in as you squeeze. A promise to honor his command.

He groans low in his throat, eyes smoldering as he looks up your heaving body.

“Pretty when you cry,” he rasps. “Will you do it more if I play with your needy clit?”

“N-no,” you lie.

He calls your bluff, pressing his mouth to your pussy and making a long, slow pass up your slit. You shake and whimper high-pitched, almost hurt sounding. He swirls the tip over your throbbing clit, sucks gently every few passes. You press your eyes shut, too gone to try to stop the reactionary tears any other way.

It’s a quirk of sex you’ve always had. Not prone to crying emotionally or from pain, but when the arousal or pleasure gets too intense, your eyes water like rivers. Some partners have found it off-putting, but the louder you wail and hiccup and cry, the more eager Simon gets. Like he’s got a direct line to heaven’s choir with his tongue.

You’re gripping his wrist so tight that you must be close to drawing blood, but he doesn’t do more than flex his fingers on your ass. Keeps you right there against his mouth, so that all you can do is take exactly what he gives you.

He seals his lips over your clit again, rubbing his tongue against the swollen bundle of nerves as he sucks. It gets you to the edge so fast that you’re seeing stars, nearly kicking him.

“Close,” you pant.

He eases up just that little bit to keep you from tipping into orgasm. You’re devastated. Afresh wave of tears drip down your temples to the sound of pathetic, helpless moans. Blessedly, he doesn’t stop. Just keeps you right there as he slides a hand from your ass to your cunt.

Just one of his fingers is thicker than any of yours; sliding two into your dripping hole almost hurdles you into ecstasy. He pulls his mouth away as you clench around them, trickling down his wrist.

“So tight. Didn’t you ever get off to the thought of me?”

“All the f-fucking time,” you admit.

“Yeah?”

You nod, tongue laving over your bottom lip. “My hands just… yours are bigger.”

He chuckles. “No cute little toys to help you out?”

“Like to imagine it’s you,” you ramble, shame long gone. “Easier without a vibe.”

“Fuck.”

He dives down to your clit again, tongue almost cruel as it tortures you with quick, rough strokes. You might scream; you don’t care if you do. His fingers curl to pet your walls, find that spot as if he had his sniper scope on it. You thrash as he strokes you, steady and unrelenting. He sucks one last time and you’re gone, coming so hard that your fingertips go numb.

You’re definitely screaming now; his name, specifically. He growls against your pussy, the vibration only prolonging that pleasure, writhing on his hand. You swallow air like you’re suffocating, Simon filling every part of you, drenching your senses. He’s all you know right now, your heart beating to his name.

And he doesn’t stop.

“S-Simon, what are – t-too much. It’s too much, it’s too—” His pins your hips down as he fits a third finger inside you, finger-fucking you so hard that the slick sounds almost drown out your sobs. You’re overstimulated, riding the edge of pain in your pleasure, lower back tight and hot.

But you don’t tap out, just fist the sheets hard enough to pop the seams.

Simon is single-minded, insistent, demanding. It’s a quality you’ve always admired in the field, and right now it’s pulling you apart piece by shivering piece.

“Simon, I-I’m gonna – I can’t…” You shake your head, crying freely and loudly, whimpering as much as you’re moaning.

He presses one of your thighs towards your chest, fingertips digging harsh into muscle. The shift gives him better access to that thrumming knot of nerves inside you. He presses against it hard and incessant as his tongue flicks repeatedly over your abused clit. Your second orgasm drowns you in waves, hips rolling, not sure if you want to get away or get more.

Simon strokes you through it until you subside into pathetic, shuddering noises, pushing weakly at him, pleading for mercy. When he pulls away, slick is dripping down his chin to his neck. The bottom edge of his balaclava is dark where it’s bunched over his nose. He surges up to kiss you, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

You stay that way for a while, letting him coax your breathing into something like normal again. A task made more difficult whenever his fingers tease your tender nipples, preoccupied with how your lungs hitch and your body jolts.

Eventually, your mouth strays to clean him up, licking yourself from his jaw and chin, messy but earnest. He captures your mouth again when you’re done, sucking your tongue like he wants to get every last drop. You shake at the thought, almost horrified to realize you’re still ridiculously horny.

He must see something in your face because he smirks a little. “Playtime’s not over, don’t worry.”

His fingertips trace over your pussy, not dipping in far, but the threat of it triggers a new batch of whimpers and tears. He cocks his head at the sight, almost curious, then leans down and follows their paths with his tongue.

A hum, low and pleased, thunders in the heady sliver of air between you. Against your hip, you feel his cock twitch, hot enough to brand.

“Taste good everywhere,” he muses, tongue still lapping at your tears.

“God, Simon,” you keen, squeezing your glassy eyes shut.

“Want you to do it again,” he murmurs. “Cry for me so I can taste how good I make you feel.”

You moan, pussy clenching, feeling horribly empty. The teeth in your neck are an almost welcome reprieve from the overwhelming pleasure, grounding as they bruise delicate skin.

“Want to see you crying on my cock, lovely. Will you do that for me?”

You nod, reaching for him. Curl your arms around his shoulders, wrap your legs around his waist. He shushes you again, cooing when you hide your wet face against his neck. He supports your unsteady body with unfaltering strength; lets you cling as he rearranges you in his lap.

You can feel his cock beneath you, rock hard, the Jacob’s ladder teasing against your pussy. It distracts you a bit, foggy mind obsessing over how it’ll feel inside you, especially now that you’ve come twice.

His hand pats your ass. “Eyes up, doll.”

You emerge from your hiding spot only to stare, wide-eyed and awed, at his bare face. There are scars everywhere, just like the rest of his body, of varying color and size and healing histories. One on his temple, just clipping his cheek, catches your attention. It’s one of the better-healed scars.

You press a gentle kiss, flick your tongue along it. His hands spasm on your hips, but don’t tug you away.

“Handsome,” you sigh, then nip the same spot you just kissed.

You can feel his smile, a small but precious thing, against your cheek. “Can’t even fucking see straight right now.”

“Not that far gone,” you scoff, scritching your nails along his stubbled jaw. You could purr at the way he leans into it.

“Have to fix that, then.”

You prop yourself up with your other hand on his chest. His heart is beating beneath your palm, a little fast, but steady and strong. You adore it instantly.

You make eye contact, the hand on his face drifting to his cheek. Then you stretch to get the other… and squish. Just like he’s done to you countless times.

“Yes,” you agree.

That finally coaxes a proper chuckle out of him, bass deep and a little rough with disuse, but music to your ears. You let his cheeks go, nipping the little red marks your grip leaves behind.

“C’mon, Si,” you whisper. “Want your dick in me.”

And finally, it seems he’s run out of interest in teasing.

You lean your shoulders against him, letting him take most of your weight between his chest and the arm angling your hips. His other hand steadies his cock, drags the flushed, leaking head against your sopping entrance.

He lowers you slowly, encouraging you to dig your nails into his shoulders, draw them down his arms. Even stretched and two orgasms in, he’s big. It’s testing your limits, not quite pain, stinging in a way that makes your mouth water.

And your eyes.

The tears are back and streaming down your hot cheeks. When Simon notices, you feel his cock throb. You choke on a noise, mouth falling slack as he licks at them like a thirsting man in the desert.

“Didn’t take long,” he teases, a little mean. You love it.

“S-sensitive,” you whine, pressing your forehead to his.

“I know, pet,” he croons. “The head’s almost in.”

Just the head. Christ.

The pleasure keeps racking you and so do quiet little cries, your walls clutching every raw centimeter of his cock like he was built just for you. (Or the other way around, a depraved part of you whispers.)

He’s steady and patient as he fills you, keeping your mouth busy with claiming kisses when he’s not drinking up your tears. At the first rung of the Jacob’s ladder, you squeak and have to be held down, gone on how it stretches your poor entrance and grinds against your abused walls.

Each one after that garners a similar reaction, driving you insane as they press against you.

“Can feel your fucking heartbeat,” he groans at one point.

You moan, raking your fingers through his sweat-damp hair. The blond strands are dark and messy, getting messier as you play with them. He grunts and his eyelids flutter every time you tug.

By the time he’s fully inside you, your ass resting on his tense thighs, you’re panting and trembling. He sweeps a hand up your arched spine and curls his fingers around the back of your neck. You lean into his hold, go lax as he guides you through a decadent, devouring kiss.

“There we are, lovely,” he soothes while you whimper. “Hurt?”

“A little…” you gasp, clenching helplessly around the base of him.

“Good,” he growls, teeth on your shoulder.

You moan, falling limp in his arms. He rumbles a pleased hum, squeezing at your hips and ass and thighs in that way you recognize.

“Stressed?” you ask, confused.

He snorts. “I don’t need a reason to play with what’s mine.”

You suck in a breath, the casual (and true) claim making your head spin.

“Relax, pet,” he murmurs. “Just get used to me inside you.”

You mewl, high and soft in your throat. He tilts his head to speak in your ear.

“Your pussy is going to remember the shape of me by the end of this.”

And your lieutenant doesn’t make idle threats.

He guides your head down to his shoulder, his other arm wrapping around your waist. The lewdest hug you’ve ever received. If not for the fat cock stretching you, it would be calming.

“Good girl, that’s it,” he hums, drawing idle patterns along your spine. “Just drift. It’ll be a bit before you can handle a proper fucking.”

He’s so deep and big inside you that you believe it, but a nagging part reminds you of the uneven score.

“What about you?”

He presses an unusually gentle kiss to your temple, though it’s balanced by the tight squeeze to the back of your neck.

“Don’t you worry about me, precious,” he chuckles. “You’ll keep me nice and warm until you’re ready.”

You swallow thickly, can’t help how you flutter around him. It’s a delicious thought, just sitting here with him filling you up for an indefinite period of time, until he decides you can handle how he’s going to fuck you.

“Like that do you?” he muses, too dark to be truly amused. “Like being my personal cocksleeve?”

“’M not,” you mumble, feeling a new sting of tears.

He tuts. “You’re my toy every other way. No point pretending now.”

You whimper into his neck, bite in retaliation but don’t deny it. Well past the point of anything like plausible deniability.

“No more fussing, pet. Be good for me now.”

And you are, settling in with your mouth brushing absent kisses to his marked collarbones. His hands never stop stroking your skin, lulling you into empty-headed bliss. The full feeling of his cock never dissipates, but you become less aware of it, internal muscles accommodating the stretch. You don’t even realize you’ve slipped into a doze, breaths going deep and even, safely cradled in your lieutenant’s arms.

When you wake, watery early-morning light is leaking past the blackout curtains. One of your hips is stiff from sleeping bunched up, but that’s not what calls your immediate attention. No, it’s the absolute puddle that Simon is coaxing from your stuffed hole with his thumb on your clit. He’s hard inside of you again – or maybe he never got soft in the first place.

“Mornin’,” he rasps when he sees you peeking your head up. Calm as you please. Like his cockhead isn’t kissing your cervix right now.

“You bastard,” you wheeze, sinking a mean bite into his shoulder.

“Grumpy thing,” he teases. “Forgot how sulky you are before coffee.”

You grumble incomprehensibly for a moment. Can’t believe he put you to sleep on his cock. More than a little miffed that you didn’t receive the proper fucking you earned yesterday. That you’ve woken up raring to go already, want his cum in your stomach more than breakfast.

“You actually plan on doing anything?” you demand. “Or we going to the mess like this? Risky to have hot tea that close to your balls.”

His laugh is like honey, rich and syrupy. Liquid sunshine when you kiss it from his mouth.

“Remember who’s in charge here, pet,” he warns.

You tilt your head in question, arching an eyebrow.

“You,” he continues, surprising you. Then he keeps talking. “So if you keep acting like a brat, I’ll have to treat you like one.”

You shiver. It should be illegal to be so salacious this early in the morning. To your delight, he allows you to wiggle a little, testing the feeling of his cock inside you. It’s absolutely divine.

“Or, counterpoint,” you say, daring to be cheeky when he’s looking at you like that. Like he’d burn the world just to keep you warm for a night. “I was very good yesterday and deserve a reward.”

“That so, sergeant?” he asks.

“Mhmm,” you chirp. Duck down to bribe him with kisses and nips along his jaw and neck, stubble prickling your bruised tongue. “I’ll even ask nicely.”

He groans, low and rough in his chest. “Yeah?”

You yelp as he tangles his fingers in the hair at the base of your neck, dragging your head back. His teeth scrape over the stuttering pulse in your throat, where there’s a sensitive spot that makes you squirm. His other hand sneaks to your breasts, tweaking a nipple still sore from his treatment the night before.

“Show me how nice you can ask then.”

And, well, not backing down from a challenge is what got you here in the first place.

You straighten up as best you can – have to take a moment when his cock grinds just right inside you – and arch your back. Your nails score lines down his chest, just this side of rough, knowing it’ll work better than any soft petting. Paired with nibbling kisses to the spot beneath his ear, you can already feel the rumble building in his chest.

“Simon, please,” you breathe, “I need you. Need it to be you.”

“Need what, lovely?” he husks.

“Need it to be you that fucks me.” You dare to rock your hips, pleased and distracted that he lets you. His fingers spread your ass wider over his lap. “Need you to break me in. Please?”

Sniper he may be, but his patience must already be gossamer thin from holding back last night and crammed inside your pussy until morning. He snaps at your crooning pleas, rolling you onto your back and grinding into you as deep as he can get.

There have been times in the field that you’ve stared as Simon operates his rifle. It’s his piece, modified and maintained in pristine condition. You’ve watched his clever fingers put it together, dismantle it, clean it, handle it with a deadly competence and precision that you envied. Not him, but the rifle. Probably something wrong with you, that you want to be an instrument, a tool, in your lieutenant’s capable hands, built up and broken apart at his whim.

Now, though… now you know. You’ve got confirmation that it’s everything you imagined and better, his scarred hands on you like he owns you, like you’re his to figure out. You want to be, you are, and you babble as much when he draws his hips back and snaps them forward.

There’s nothing testing or careful about it. Simon knows you’re not fragile, spent all night making sure you could take him exactly the way he wants you. You’ve never wanted him to hold back, don’t want him to now. Crave the way his control seems to slip when it’s you, your body, your voice egging him on.

He rolls his hips every time he bottoms out; his piercings grind deliciously against your twitching entrance with every thrust. You bury your fingers in his hair, tug when he pulls out as if he’s going to leave you empty and wanting. He grunts against your neck, teeth ravenous over skin that already bears their imprint.

It feels like freefall with no parachute, like getting caught in a perfect white-hot explosion. The force of him makes the bed creak, would shove you up the mattress if not for the tight grip on your thighs. His arm loops under the small of your back and angles your hips up.

“Mine,” he growls into your shoulder. “All fucking mine. My sergeant. My medic. My pretty toy.”

You can’t string together more than broken syllables, little noises forced out every time he drives home. He’s not looking for a verbal response though; your body is already singing its agreement, clamping down on his cock like you can’t stand any millimeter not inside you. You’re rocking with him as best you can, knee hitched up by his ribs, pulling him closer, closer, closer.

“I’m right here, doll. Not going anywhere,” he murmurs. Then, almost to himself. “No, not letting you out of my sight ever fucking again. Going to keep you right by my side, within reach.”

You cry out, ridiculously turned on by promises he can’t possibly keep. It’s not the nature of the job, but the fact that that’s what he wants…

“Go fucking crazy when I can’t see you,” he pants, “touch you. Was goin’ fuckin’ batshit all week. Gaz wouldn’t shut the fuck up. Just wanted to get my hands on you. My teeth in you.”

There’s an earnest, desperate edge to his words. Sounds like a sinner praying for salvation, like he’s begging some cruel god for relief. Or, more likely for your lieutenant, threatening to take that god’s place.

You’d worship Simon if he did. Practically do already. Would spread yourself out on his altar and let him devour you mind, body, and soul just to appease his appetite.

“Simon, please,” you cry, head tilting back, bearing your throat. “I’m yours. Your medic, your sergeant, your toy.”

“Fuck,” he hisses. “That’s right, love. All mine.”

He pushes himself up, pressing his hand to the wall over your head. It’s gorgeous, the play of muscle and sinew in his arm. A fucking masterpiece of a man, beautiful and dangerous and right now, all fucking yours too.

The new leverage lets him slam into you faster and harder, frantic now. You have to brace your arms above your head to keep from knocking into the wall, pushing back to meet him thrust for brutal thrust. Could swear you feel him in your guts.

“C’mon, love, let me see those pretty tears.”

His hand slides over your thigh to your clit, thumb rubbing vicious little circles over the nerves. It gives him what he wants instantly, you’re near screaming as you cry. It’s rough and ruthless and has you so close to the edge that you’re almost jolting away.

“Lemme cum,” you beg, “Please, please, Simon, want to cum on your cock. So close…”

His grin is more just a bearing of teeth, eyes glittering in the shadows above you. “Cum for me, precious.”

It doesn’t take much more than that, always eager to please your lieutenant. His hips and finger sync up at just the right moment, just the right way, and you’re gushing over his cock, voice breaking. Your nails scrape the wall as you curl our hands into fists, bucking as he fucks you through it.

You’re not surprised when he doesn’t even slow down, though you reach to push his hand off your screaming clit. His hand darts from the wall to capture your wrists, pinning them over your head. The punishing rhythm of his hips doesn’t even falter, bullying that spot inside you relentlessly.

“I didn’t say you could fucking stop,” he snarls.

You whine and struggle, but that just makes you tighter, makes him rougher, makes it better. You’re not even sure if the cresting sensation is pleasure anymore, if it’s another orgasm or your body reaching max capacity. It’s just whiteout intense and you can do nothing but lay there writhing.

“Gonna cum in you,” he moans, head dropping. “Gonna leave my mark inside you too.”

You contract around him helplessly, his thrusts getting messier, plunging into you at a dizzying speed. Not even sure if you’re making noise anymore, or just sucking in air when you can get it. His fingers flex around your wrists, tight and unforgiving.

And then there's a burst of heat as he moans, sounding gutting. He fucks you through his own orgasm before finally slowing, and then stopping buried deep inside you. His thumb eases off your abused clit, hand landing on the bed beside your hip. Your leg flops down to the mattress, stretched out and still twitchy.

“How copy, sergeant?” he rasps.

“Solid, LT,” you wheeze. “You?”

“Fucking fantastic.”

That startles a little giggle out of you, grinning up at him fucked-out and high on afterglow. His returning smile, small and disused as it is, is better than all the orgasms you’ve had in the last twelve hours.

“Gonna pull out now,” he warns. “Brace.”

Even prepared, you still yelp, beyond sensitive and cored without him inside you. The feeling is only exacerbated by the warm cum you can feel dripping down your ass from your used hole.

“Look at that…” he drawls appreciatively, tilting his head for a good look. “There any part of you that ain’t pretty?”

You groan and cover your overheated face, knock your shin into his hip. But you leave your legs open.

“Shut up, Simon.”

“Insubordinate.”

“Fraternizer.”

“Mm. Gonna report me to Price?”

“Only if you report me.”

“Mutually assured destruction then.”

Your mouth is still hidden under your hands, but you know he can see your body shaking with suppressed laughter.

“Or you could help me clean up, take a nap, and we’ll negotiate terms for a ceasefire.”

He chuckles. “Should have you on a diplomatic envoy, Squeaks. Have the rest of us out of a job. No wars, no soldiers.”

You shake your head, dropping your arms to card through his hair. He lowers himself onto you – not his usual full-force flop, but still by no means delicate about it. You like the weight of him on your tingling body. Feels like he’s keeping you from floating away.

“Only way they’re getting me on protection detail for politicians is if you’re there with me.”

He grimaces. It’s stupidly charming how it makes a scar on his nose scrunch up. “The point is to stop incidents, not start them.”

“Shame, then,” you hum. “Guess we’re stuck here then.”

“Guess so.”

He pats your thigh, then pushes himself up. You protest immediately, but he shushes you with a wry smirk.

“Part of the terms, wasn’t it? To clean you up?”

You grumble but subside, thankful that officer quarters come with an ensuite. It doesn’t take him long to return with a damp cloth and a cup of water. He sets the latter on the side table and kneels between your thighs, wiping you down as gently as he’s ever been.

When he’s done, you make grabby hands until he scoffs and climbs in with you again.

“Nap?” you ask hopefully.

“Yeah. Got you up early. Still an hour ‘til breakfast.”

Not for the first (or likely last) time, you are grateful for Simon’s brilliant tactics.

“You’re my hero.”

He snorts, but when you peek up at him, there’s a fetching pink tint to his cheeks. “Go the fuck to sleep, Squeaks.”

“Yessir.”

#cod #my writing #fanfiction #reader fic #cross posted on ao3 #old fic #sergeant squeaks #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley

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little-miss-dilf-lover · 4 months ago

Text

OFFERING A HAND. (L.H)

logan howlett x gn!reader

word count. 1369

summary. requested here. logan overhears you crying one night. though the dynamics of your relationship have never been established, he can’t quite leave you alone. and so, he knocks on your door. doing what he can to comfort you

It was a bad day. Another bad day at the end of a bad week. Another bad week.

You didn’t even know what it was that you were feeling, what had got you feeling this way. All you did know, is that your head hurt, the pressure building behind your eyes as you try your best not to actualise your sadness. Purposefully distracting yourself as a way to manage it.

You’re in your room at the mansion, earphones plugged in with your door shut – minimal light from the moon creeping through your window. You lay in bed on your side, legs comfortably tucked up as you listen to your music, the volume high enough to drown out everything else.

It was loud, so much so that you’re unaware of the knocks at your door – the presence of Logan on the other side. The smell and sounds of your sobs catching his attention from the room over.

He knew it wasn’t his responsibility, wasn’t his duty to check on you —the confusing dynamics of your unspoken relationship often making things difficult— though he’s not heartless. He’s not cruel. He couldn’t let you be alone, knowing you were crying in your room.

His knocks go unheard, though he knew you were in there. The smell of your salty tears just as fragrant as before – maybe even more so now up close.

You see a crack of light illuminate around your room as the door ever so slowly opens, Logan lingering between the small gap in the doorframe. You whip your neck around to follow the silhouette, your hands immediately reaching to wipe your eyes when you spot him.

“Everything okay in here?” he asks, speaking tentatively. His footing hesitant.

You unplug your earphones and give your eyes another quick wipe, hastily brushing the wet from under them.

“Mhm-hm,” you hum, afraid of what your voice may sound like.

“You sure?” he questions, slowly eyeing around your dim room. “It uh— it doesn’t sound like it.”

You briefly drop your head into your hands and clear your throat, adjusting yourself more comfortably on the bed. Sitting up, you cross your legs and plop a plushie atop – your comfort plushie. Awkwardly playing with the ears as a way of distracting yourself.

“I’m good,” you shrug, weakly laughing as if to lighten the mood – make it seem like no big deal.

His eyes hone in on your fidgeting hands, a slight warmness spreading in them once he realises what you’re doing. He looks back out into the hallway like he was weighing his options, until he glances back at you sitting sadly on your bed, bottom lip practically wobbling.

He exhales as he scratches the back of his neck, clearly unsure of what to do.

“Seriously,” you clear your throat once more. “I’m good. I’m good,” you say, the tone changing by the second repeat – speaking like it was you who needed convincing.

He shakes his head and steps further into your room, closing the door behind himself as he walks over to you. “Can I sit?” he questions, and once he’s met with a nod from you, he takes a seat at the edge just beside you.

“I don’t know why I’m sad,” you murmur, eyes focused on your lap. Your hands still fiddling with the fluff of your stuffed animal. “I don’t know,” you shrug, suddenly feeling embarrassed by all this vulnerability.

He nods faintly, the act showing that he’s listening to you. It’s like he’s uncertain of what to say, scared of saying the wrong thing.

“Sorry,” you shake your head, softly scoffing to yourself.

“No,” he mirrors your head movement. “Don’t be.”

Logan hesitates, his hand slowly reaching for yours. He clasps around it, his fingers interlocking with yours before giving you a slight squeeze. “It’s okay,” he nods, reaffirming his words.

The contact alone of his hand in yours is enough to reopen those feelings you tried ever so desperately to contain. New tears slowly forming in your eyes from his simple act of warmth.

He keeps his eyes on the side of you, watching you softly while you do everything you can not to meet his gaze – forcefully keeping them on your interlocked hands.

And with your spare hand, you bring it up to your face, elbow resting on your knee to cover your eyes, not wanting him to see you cry.

But it was too late, he saw it and his heart hurt for you. He pulses your hand, his fingers soothingly skimming over the back of it. He couldn’t bear to see you like this. And though the logistics of your relationship have never been solidified, that didn’t mean he didn’t care for you, didn’t like you.

You cry quietly into your hand, the pads of your fingers briskly wiping away every tear that fell.

“Come on,” he mutters, voice soft as he adjusts on the bed, turning inward to you beside him. “Let me take care of you.”

Without a second to debate it, you repeat after him – twisting in to face him. You let go of his hand and wrap both arms around him, hands tight on his back as you bury your face into his shoulder. Head tucked in the crook of his neck.

His arms follow after you in the same way, hands grasped tight on your back as he soothes you – a palm brushing up the length of it, calming you. The warmth and softness of him only deepen your sobs.

He coos faintly, the sound like he was trying to further the comfort. His large, manish hands running up the expanse of your spine until one situates behind your head, cradling it carefully. Holding it closer to him.

You mutter something into him, the incohesive words muffling against his neck.

And before you have to repeat yourself, he’s pulling away to look down at you. The hand on your back moving to the side of your face, his thumb gliding under your eye to swipe away a tear bead. He keeps his eyes focused on you, gaze purely soft as he flickers over your face.

“One more time, sweet thing,” he prompts, referring to your prior, indistinct sentence a moment.

“Thank you,” you repeat, a slight waver in your voice. “I mean it, thank you,” you nod and give his back a brief squeeze before parting.

His hand still cupping your face. “I know,” he says, words gentle.

He leans in, pressing a kiss to your cheek, his lips lingering for a moment before he pulls away. You hold his eye contact, smiling sadly at him as you do so. He can be so sweet.

“Um,” you start, unsure of what’s about to come from your mouth. “Can you stay with me for a bit?”

He pauses, his features forcefully stiffening —hiding a grin— before he nods, silently agreeing.

You smile at him again, this time it's far sweeter, the reasoning far sweeter. You resume your original lying position, only this time it’s facing inwards, leaving space for Logan to lay in front.

He follows your lead, moving across the bed to lie in the same way you do – his body facing yours. You scoot closer and wrap an arm around him, forgetting all prior complications and complexities in your confusing relationship. It all felt right and how it should, just like you always wanted. Like what he always wanted.

He pulls you closer, his own arm cradling you like he did just moments before. He looks down at you tucked against his chest, his eyes never seeming to pull away from how soft and sweet you looked. How at peace you looked with him.

And as he watches your eyes flicker closed —presumed exhaustion taking over— he makes a silent promise to you both. Telling himself that he’ll always be there for you when you feel this way again.

But he can’t tell you that, especially now as you’re finally starting to doze off. So instead he holds you just a bit tighter, pressing a kiss into your hairline as he relaxes into your touch – making himself comfortable to spend the night in your room. A night with you.

you guys have comfort teddies too right?

#logan howlett #logan howlett comfort #logan howlett fluff #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x you #logan howlett x gn reader #logan howlett xmen #logan howlett fanfiction #logan x reader #logan xmen #wolverine x reader #wolverine fluff #wolverine fanfiction #deadpool and wolverine

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demilypyro · 5 months ago

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Ok so hear me out cause I know it's ridiculous but I deep dived on this and it all checks out.

This probably isn't anything more than "implied" status but yes after someone told me about it I looked into it and I'm pretty confident that Rabbid Peach is indeed supposed to be transfem. The major evidence comes from the official Rabbids instagram account. a lot of the old posts are gone but have been preserved as screenshots.

Before the first game with Rabbid Peach in it, the Rabbids instagram account was run by a random generic rabbid, seen in selfies below. This character regularly posted selfies and life updates. As this is one of the indistinguishable rabbids, we can't be entirely sure that they're all the same character, but some of the posts reference eachother, which does seem to imply a single consistent rabbid using this account.

What's interesting here is that the longer the account existed, the more often this rabbid was depicted wearing feminine accessories. In the very first image (left) they appear quite masculine, but as the account went on you started seeing more and more dresses and necklaces. In this second image they refer to themselves as "Queen Bwaaah" only a month before the announcement of Mario + Rabbids Kingdom Battle.

After Mario + Rabbids Kingdom Battle is announced, the account was rebranded to be Rabbid Peach's personal account. Now, every single post is by Rabbid Peach. Rabbid Peach is characterized as being rather vain and taking a lot of selfies, so the posting style is exactly the same as that of "Queen Bwaaah."

Ok but this could still be a coincidence right? Here's the smoking gun. In a post by "Queen Bwaaah" from before the rebrand, we see this rubber duck with a spiked collar. It's kind of random but it's pretty unique right? Well 6 months later, in a post by Rabbid Peach, another rubber duck with a spiked collar appears. This is pretty definitive proof to me that "Queen Bwaaah" and Rabbid Peach are the exact same rabbid.

To summarize: this random generic (male/genderless?) rabbid who was running the rabbids' social media was publicly experimenting with femininity, then became Rabbid Peach due to the events of Kingdom Battle, and has since kept running the account, now permanently presenting as female. Rabbid Peach is transfem thanks for coming to my ted talk what the fuck are they cooking over there

#mario + rabbids kingdom battle #mario + rabbids stars of hope #rabbids #rabbid peach

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xo100 · 3 months ago

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Club - LN4

*:･ﾟ Summary: You bump into Lando Norris at a club, sparking a flirty connection. After a fun night, you exchange numbers.

*:･ﾟ Word count: 1324

୨ৎ

The club was buzzing with music, flashing lights, and laughter as Lando Norris and his best friend, Max Fewtrell, strolled inside, soaking up the electric atmosphere of Monaco's nightlife. They’d become regulars at the hottest clubs, both enjoying the release and freedom that came with an adrenaline-filled F1 season.

Tonight, though, felt a little different. Lando wasn’t quite sure why yet, but he could feel it. Maybe it was the energy in the air, maybe it was the fact that the Monaco Grand Prix was just around the corner, or maybe it was something—or someone—he hadn’t met yet.

Max had already gravitated towards the bar, ordering shots for them both. Lando, more on the relaxed side that night, looked around the dance floor. Bodies were moving to the beat, swaying under the neon lights, but he wasn’t ready to join in just yet. “ You good, mate?” Max grinned as he handed Lando a drink, already buzzing from the energy and a few earlier rounds.

“Yeah, just checking things out,” Lando replied, scanning the dance floor.

On the other side of the club, you and your best friend were lost in the moment, dancing together to the beat of the music, laughing and cheering each other on. It was one of those nights where everything felt carefree, where nothing mattered except the moment. The crowd was thick, and with the music pulsing through your veins, you didn’t notice the space around you shrinking.

That is, until you accidentally bumped into someone.

“Oh my god, I'm so sorry!” you exclaimed, looking up at the guy whose back you had just collided with.

Lando turned around, slightly startled, but when his eyes met yours, his expression softened into an easy smile. “No worries at all,” he replied, his voice barely audible over the booming music. His accent was unmistakable—British, smooth—and somehow comforting. For a split second, you were caught off guard. You didn’t realize who he was at first, just that he had the kind of grin that made you feel like everything was instantly better.

Max, who had witnessed the entire interaction, nudged Lando with a teasing look. “Looks like someone’s making new friends.” You laughed nervously, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. “I swear, I didn’t mean to hit you.”

Lando chuckled. “Well, if it was on purpose, that’s one way to get my attention.” His eyes sparkled under the club lights, and you felt your cheeks heat up. “Guess it worked, then,” you said, a playful smile tugging at your lips.

“Definitely.” Lando stepped a little closer, the music thumping in the background as the two of you stood there, your friends momentarily forgotten. “You come here often?”

You shrugged, still smiling. “Not really. Just here for a fun night with my friend.” Lando glanced toward your best friend, who was still dancing, then back at you. “Seems like you’re having a good time.”

“Yeah, and I think I just made it better by bumping into you.”

Max, who had been listening in, couldn’t help but laugh loudly, slapping Lando on the back. “Mate, she’s good! You’re gonna have to keep up.” Lando shot him a look, but there was no hiding his grin. He was intrigued by you, by the ease of the conversation, and how natural it felt to be standing there talking like you’d known each other forever. Usually, nights out were fun, but they blurred together. But tonight? You had somehow made it stand out.

“Do you wanna dance?” Lando asked, raising an eyebrow.

You felt a spark of excitement flicker in your chest, but you played it cool. “Are you sure you can keep up with me?”

His competitive streak kicked in, and Lando smirked. “Oh, I think I can handle it.”

With a playful nudge, you both moved onto the dance floor, joining the crowd as the DJ switched the track to something a little faster, a little more intense. You could feel Lando’s presence next to you, the warmth of his body as the two of you moved in sync to the music. His eyes never left yours, and every time you looked over, he had that same cheeky grin plastered on his face. He wasn’t the best dancer—not by a long shot—but the fact that he didn’t care made it even more fun. He let loose, spinning you around with a laugh, not caring if he got the steps wrong or if he bumped into someone else. You couldn’t help but laugh along with him, the two of you lost in the moment.

Max, on the sidelines, gave a thumbs-up to Lando before disappearing back toward the bar to give his friend some space.

As the night went on, you and Lando kept dancing, joking, and sharing easy conversation in between songs. At one point, you found yourself standing off to the side, catching your breath while the music pumped around you. “I have to ask,” you said, tilting your head as you looked up at him. “Do you always meet girls by having them bump into you?”

Lando laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I mean, it’s a first. But I think I’m gonna make it a thing now.”

“You should,” you teased. “Works like a charm.”

The conversation flowed easily, and Lando felt a warmth spreading through him that had nothing to do with the alcohol or the heat of the club. There was something about you—something he couldn’t quite put into words. Maybe it was your sense of humor, or the way you didn’t seem fazed by who he was, treating him like anyone else. Whatever it was, he liked it.

“I’m Lando, by the way,” he said after a beat, extending his hand with a smile.

“I know,” you admitted, shaking his hand. “I recognized you after a few seconds. I just didn’t want to be that person who says it right away.”

“Well, I appreciate that,” Lando said, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand before he let it go.

“And I’m Y/N,” you added with a soft smile.

“I like it,” Lando said, his voice quieter now as the music shifted to something slower, the lights dimming around you both.

For a moment, everything seemed to fall away. It was just the two of you in that crowded club, standing a little too close but neither of you caring. You could feel the pull between you, something unspoken but undeniable. Lando hesitated for a second, then leaned down slightly, his voice barely above a whisper as he spoke.

“So, Y/N,” he began, his eyes locking onto yours, “what do I have to do to see you again?”

You felt your heart skip a beat, surprised by the question but also thrilled. You hadn’t expected anything from tonight—just a fun night out with your friend—but here you were, Lando Norris standing in front of you, asking for more time with you.

“Well,” you replied, biting your lip as you pretended to think it over. “I’d say don’t let me bump into anyone else tonight, and we can call it a deal.”

Lando laughed, shaking his head. “Deal.”

As the night drew on, the two of you stayed together, talking and laughing like you’d known each other for much longer than just a few hours. And as the club started to empty and the night air cooled, Lando realized that tonight had been different. It had been more than just a usual night out in Monaco. And as he walked you outside to make sure you got home safely, he couldn’t shake the feeling that this was the start of something unexpected, something exciting.

You exchanged numbers before parting ways, a soft promise hanging in the air between you both that this wouldn’t be the last time. And as Lando watched you disappear into the night, he couldn’t help but smile.

This was just the beginning.

୨ৎ

*:･ﾟ Notes; Thank you for readying! I hope you enjoyed it!

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bvidzsoo · 8 days ago

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Take your breath away

Author: bvidzsoo

Pairing: werewolf!Jeong Yunho x werewolf!female reader

☾ Warning: nudity, quite suggestive at times (honestly, they are pretty horny for each other), cursing, unhealthy amount of subtle (or not) jealousy and possessiveness ☾ Word count: 28.9k ☾ Rating: mature ☾ Genre: supernatural creatures!au, academy!au, werewolf!au, omegaverse-ish!au, unrequited love!au...or is it?, mates!au, angst ☾ Summary: New beginnings are always scary, and you are no stranger to them as your family moves to a town called Nocturnal Parade, filled with other night creatures. You find lovely people here, a community, a pack to have your back, and even a best friend called Choi San. What you don't expect, however, is to find your mate, who wants nothing to do with you.

A/N: Hi, my lovelies, I am back! I know I was gone for a while, and I won't lie, I wasn't inspired at all and felt really depressed (some things just pilled up for me in these past autumn months and that mixed with seasonal depression have hit me hard), but I am feeling a lot better now! I won't promise anything, but I'll try to post again more often, and hopefully continue the on-going series I already have. Please, please, please, imagine Yunho in this one with long hair, like in the top-middle picture! And for those who have read my Mingi Preying on you tonight oneshot, I have some exciting news...this story happens in the same universe, sooo, you'll get more insight on everyone's character! ^^ (If you haven't checked it out yet, you should give it a read, the world building goes more in-depth there ^^) Also, important note to keep in mind: everyone in this story goes by the 'Song' surname since they are siblings! I hope you enjoy this story too, and a small reminder, your feedback always gives me an inspirational push, so I greatly appreciate hearing what you think of this oneshot! <3 divider ~ and because I might as well dedicate this oneshot to you for hyping me up and helping me out with it, I hope you enjoy it @hongjoongspoetry <3 ~

No matter how long I looked, he’d never glance my way. I had gotten used to his constant ignorance, but it still stung. I couldn’t help it, it was the only reasonable reaction considering we were mates.

It wasn’t anything we had spoken about, let alone even addressed, but I had known since the very first time I had laid my eyes on him. It was the change of my pulse, the way the world seemed to quiet around me, my breathing which got shallow, my pupils dilating and my eyes switching to an orchid colour that seemed to persist as my heart thundered in my chest, loud, and overbearing as I couldn’t help but watch the tall man who people surrounded, his head thrown back and mouth shielded by his long fingers as his body shook from laughing loudly. Until now I had only heard stories of what finding your mate felt like, but now I knew the feeling. I didn’t need to read fairytales about it anymore, nor would I pester my mother for the nth time to retell her story about meeting my father. I wasn’t desperate, per se, to find my mate, but the worry of growing old on my own had felt like a mosquito always buzzing around my ears, unable to kill it since I couldn’t see it. The fear of remaining alone seemed to persist in the back of my mind, and based on my mood, sometimes it would make me angry while other times just really anxious.

While living in Colourful River, the big city from North here, finding a suitor for myself had always felt like a challenging feat. There were too many creatures and humans alike who were too nosy and pestering, and I had never felt like I could be truly myself around them. I didn’t have many friends, humans or creatures, and at first, I blamed it on my shyness. Then, I started blaming it on my nerdiness as school rolled around, then it was the thought of being too plain for anyone to find me interesting and approachable, and then I gave up on finding an answer and decided that perhaps I was meant to be lonely, like my parents. In the big city, despite having lived here our whole lives, it seemed like we never found ourselves belonging to a community. Living closer to the border, the cities and towns were inhabited by many night creatures, however, that didn’t seem to change much when it came to my family. Maybe it was because we were all quiet and reclusive, maybe it was because we had never truly felt comfortable surrounded by so much happening at all times. And that is why I hadn’t felt any type of resistance or regret when my parents packed up our things and announced to me that we’d be leaving for a quiet and safe town just South of Colourful River, far from the border and the humans.

Nocturnal Parade has been a place I’ve heard plenty of. I knew it was inclusive of all the night creatures while being heavily influenced by the clergy. After all, it’s the town where the first attempts at a civilised and united nation amongst the night creatures had sparked. The vampires had taken the initiative, better said the Petrova family now known as Bae, were the founders of said town and the party that now advocated for all the night creatures all around the globe, making our voices heard, demanding respect and inclusion. They were, also, the ones to end the hatred between vampires and werewolves. Thanks to the effort and constant hard work, the werewolves had complied and formed one of the strongest alliances known to mankind with the vampires, pledging to fight by their side, to honour and respect them if their passion was returned by the vampires. And the respect had been mutual, the Petrovas didn’t stop until justice was brought to everyone, until every night creature could live a harmonious and pleasant life. It was a bit nerve-wracking to know I’d be cohabiting in a place with such ancient and respectable creatures from now on. From what I had heard of them until now, I knew only the daughter and her parents lived there still, keen on carrying the town’s, but also the family’s, legacy.

I wasn’t afraid of the change, however, I was reluctant and a little hesitant to join the Academy that had ultimately become a symbol of our unity and equality between us creatures. Back at my old schools, which were just simple regular schools frequented by both humans and night creatures, I wasn’t very liked. Everyone seemed to single me out, even my own kind, and they hadn’t always been the nicest about it. I supposed they saw me as an oddball just because I didn’t enjoy chasing a ball in our breaks and would rather play video games on forums with online friends, than play pretend that I was part of their made-up pack. Which brought another issue to light. My family had never belonged to a pack. My father’s family had long ago moved to Colourful River, leaving behind their abusive and mistreated past, meanwhile, my mother’s family had always been tightly-knit but not inclusive of strangers. So, as the elders all died, it was just my parents and me. I didn’t have any siblings, which seemed to make me even weirder since most werewolves reproduced more than once as they preferred to have big households full of children. My parents rather enjoyed the peace a single child, like me, offered them. The less mouths to feed, the better.

However, my worries seemed to be in vain once I had finally arrived in town, and then at Wilden Pine Academy. The town was lively and buzzing with creatures at every corner, all of them friendly and lacking the judgement and nosiness of the big city folk, who always watched you with inquiring eyes, desperate for a drop of gossip. Here, in Nocturnal Parade, everyone seemed to respect your space and didn’t pry anything out of you, they were simply grateful that you had chosen their haven as your home. Moving here had been probably the best decision my parents could’ve made. I liked it here, living by the outskirts of the Haunted Woods was refreshing. I could go for evening runs whenever I wanted without having to share my space with other restless werewolves, who genuinely enjoyed sharing the running track with their friends. I always found solace in solitary, I could clear my mind when it got too loud in there. Runs were pretty much therapeutic to me, I quite disliked it when I was bothered by other rambunctious werewolves who’d howl at the night sky just for the fun of it, mostly to spook the humans that ogled us rather disrespectfully.

My aloneness, however, wasn’t chased away until the academic year started and I passed through the tall iron gates of the Academy. It was a sunny day and I was impressed by the heat despite being surrounded by vast forest, the drive a long four hours until the next town, which was Nocturnal Parade. My parents were probably more excited about me starting my penultimate academic year here than I was, but it didn’t bother me. I knew they wished I’d make happy and lasting memories here, unlike the lack of them at my old schools. They hoped amongst so many night creatures I’d find at least one person who was like me, or even if not, creatures who would accept me the way I was. I hadn’t been walking down for long the gravel path when my backpack was pushed off my shoulders as someone ran past me, only to pause once they realised their actions. My luggage was heavy as I had been pulling it after me, but the boy who I thought wouldn’t even apologise for bumping into me, turned and faced me with furrowed eyebrows and a small pout.

“Sorry, my parents always say I get too excited and lose my coordination.” The boy’s voice had been gruff, a contrast with his soft features despite his sharp face. His eyebrows were straight, his eyes small and dark, his nose petite and pointy, lips pouty and fleshy, his jawline and cheekbones both sharp and defined. His short hair and the razor cut in his left eyebrow made him look intimidating until he spoke or smiled. His lips formed a pout and his eyes disappeared as a dimpled smile formed on his face, brightening his features. He was a cute boy and I had let him help me pick up my backpack, which, surprisingly, he didn’t hand back and threw around his own shoulder instead, “Are you the new family in town? The Byuns?”

I nodded and then extended a hand for him to shake, “My name is Byun Y/N, nice to meet you.”

“I’m Choi San!” The boy shook my hand with excitement lacing his tone, “I was on a holiday when your family arrived in town, that is why I wasn’t able to attend the welcoming party organised by the Songs.”

“Ah, it’s fine.” I muttered as I had started walking again, San falling in step with me, “The party was rather…overwhelming. Not that I didn’t appreciate it, but I had never been surrounded by so many loving people at once.”

San chuckled under his breath as he seemed to carry his two duffle bags as if they weighed nothing. It wasn’t hard to guess what type of creature he was simply based on his appearance already. He was massive next to me, his shoulders wide and strong looking, his chest puffed out and back rigidly straight, his hips surprisingly narrow, but his legs well-worked. He wasn’t too tall, but he had almost a head on me. Besides, his spicy scent was strong and confident, a little bit too harsh for my sensitive nose buds, but not nauseating. And like the rest of the werewolves who had been at the welcoming party, I felt no malice nor judgement coming from San, just a lot of excitement and joy as he had led us towards the right wing of the Academy, where the designated dorms for the werewolves were.

“It might sound a little bit strange, but all the werewolves act like a big pack here in Nocturnal Parade, I assume you didn’t have that back in the city?” San’s perfectly straight eyebrow raised as he threw me a quick glance since we were nearing more students, and San was obviously popular. Everyone seemed to greet him, eager to gain his attention.

“Not really,” I answered San, walking ahead to pull the building’s door open for him, “My family didn’t belong to a pack, actually.”

That had gotten San’s attention as his eyes widened once we stepped through the threshold, the inside of the building just as grandiose as the outside. It was spacious with big windows, natural light seeping through and casting a warm glow over the space, “It must’ve been lonely, then. But fear not, the Songs will adopt your family quite quickly, if they haven’t already.”

I smiled, my heart had skipped a beat at the mention of the kind, but energetic family, “They have already, actually. They had pulled my parents aside before the party and told them that we were now part of the pack, of the family, and that the community would be there for us.”

San hummed as we went up the first flight of stairs, a small smile on his face, “Our community hadn’t always been as close as it is now, but with the Songs' arrival to Nocturnal Parade everything just fell into place. I don’t think I had seen them go a day without doing something for the town or for their fellow creatures—hey, which floor is your room at?”

And that had been one year ago, when I was new to the town and wondering whether San would ever again speak to me. Right now, however, as we sat in the Flower Field behind campus, laying on a blanket and basking in the late afternoon sun, I knew San wouldn’t go a day without speaking to me. Spring was finally around the corner, and so was the Spring Break every student was impatiently awaiting. One week back home sounded really nice right now, I never failed to miss my privacy. The dorms at the Academy were shared, and my roommate snored really loudly and whined all the time. It was hard to discipline the second youngest of the Song family, so the Academy’s ruling board decided to place her with someone older than her, more mature, and possibly a good influence on the fiery blonde who liked to wreak havoc wherever she went. Not in our shared room, though, I had laid down some ground rules after rooming with Song Yeri. No loudness nor messiness was allowed, and of course, she couldn’t bring back boys into our shared room. As long as I didn’t, she wasn’t allowed either. She wasn’t thrilled by the idea, but because her parents had gotten really close with mine over the past year, Yeri was forced to abide by the rules out of fear of me ratting her out to her loving, but unforgiving, parents.

The air was still chilly and you’d become cold if you sat in one spot for too long, but the bodies of werewolves were warmer, our blood hotter, almost to the point of boiling in our veins. My cheeks were rosy as I sat with my legs crossed, a book in my lap as San hummed a silent tune next to me, laying on his stomach as he solved equations. He was planning on leaving for the big city to pursue further education, but he promised to return once he was done with it. He aspired to teach at Wilden Pine Academy, and I was more than eager to be his number-one supporter. He was great with children, and even those older seemed to respect him. San had a demanding aura, and despite him never taking advantage of that, he did know when he had to put his foot down and stop someone from running all over him. Being friends with San had showed me the wonders of companionship, of what a natural and gentle, but platonic, love felt like. I could share whatever was on my mind, at any given time, and San would be there to listen, and even take my ideas further beyond my imagination.

He was a driving force when it came to my creativity, always inspiring me and pushing me to do better and to go harder because I was capable of creating grand things. I wasn’t too sure of what I’d do once I was done with the Academy, but I could see myself being a novelist. It wouldn’t be easy at first, but if I remained diligent and focused on my task, I knew I could do it—at least San had told me so, he was kind like that. Whenever I felt insecure about something, he picked me up and changed my mind about it in mere minutes, grinning from ear to ear as his eyes twinkled. If kindness had a definition, it should’ve simply said Choi San, and I was sure everyone would understand why. The serenity surrounding us, however, didn’t last for long as a squeal of my best friend’s name echoed around the blooming flowery field. San’s body tensed for just a second before he turned onto his back, sitting up as he leaned back on his hands, looking towards the boy he was too scared to confess his true feelings to.

“Sannie!” With little regard for those around him, Wooyoung threw himself at San, tackling him back down into the blanket as San groaned, the back of his head colliding with the hard ground, “Stop doing your homework and come on a run with me, hmm?”

Wooyoung was a charming young man, mischievous and painfully loud, but he had good intentions. If I ignored him always trying to sway San away from studying, then yes, he did mostly have good intentions. I shifted a bit since Wooyoung’s leg dug painfully into my hip, who was still ignoring my presence as he blinked at San slowly, placing his hands on my best friend’s firm chest as San tried to stabilise Wooyoung by holding onto his waist.

“I have a bit of homework still to do, though.” San’s voice was quiet as the sun shone down on the two friends, and I smiled to myself as I went back to reading my book, “Could you wait for half an hour?”

“But I’ve been waiting all day for you.” I could hear the pout in Wooyoung’s voice, breathy and whiny as I chuckled under my breath, eyes focusing on the words in my book. It was jarring how alike Yeri and him were at times.

“Then you can wait a bit longer.” San’s tone wasn’t harsh, but it was chastising a bit, and it made Wooyoung groan as I smiled to myself, amused by their antics. I was sure that if I could hear San’s slight change of heartbeat, the spiciness of his scent spiking too, then Wooyoung was aware of it too. Sometimes I wondered how the latter didn’t realise San’s obvious feelings for him, but I suppose Wooyoung wasn’t a very observant person, unlike his older brother, Mingi.

“Can I stay though—” Then I felt eyes on myself and I heard shuffling around, Wooyoung finally removed himself from on top of San, “Oh, hey, Y/N. What are you doing?”

“Reading,” I muttered as I flipped the page, bored by the story but knowing I had just two days to finish reading the remaining two hundred pages.

“Is it for Literature class?” Wooyoung pressed, coming closer as he hovered over my shoulder, “Yunho’s been complaining about how shitty the book was, something about the story being too slow-paced and the side love story not making too much sense.”

I hummed, completely agreeing with Yunho, who shared a Literature class with me. At the same time, I was beyond grateful that I had learned to control my reactions at the mention of Song Yunho, who had looked my way a total of three times ever since I had arrived to Nocturnal Parade. I didn’t understand what I had done wrong to be brushed off so blatantly by him, but it hurt. It had hurt a lot more in the beginning, but I had gotten used to the feeling of dejection and disappointment that followed whenever we crossed paths. I didn’t understand whether I had upset him or not, considering that our first encounter had gone rather well. To me, it had gone more than well, but maybe Yunho didn’t share the sentiment. Almost as if summoned by some deity, I didn’t have to look to know he was approaching us. My body knew upon a simple whiff of the air, the earthy and intense scent of firewood and vanilla making my lungs feel like they couldn’t expand anymore to breathe in deeper, my skin covered in goosebumps as the world seemed to quieten around me in his presence. Yunho’s tall shadow was looming over us as he stopped at the foot of the blanket, his question directed at Wooyoung.

“Did you take my cologne, again, Wooyoung?” He didn’t sound angry, but his tone was demanding. I heard Wooyoung scoff next to me as he sat mirroring my position, looking up at his brother with a defying look in his eyes.

“No, I don’t like its scent.” Wooyoung was bad at lying, especially when we had heightened and sensitive senses and he was reeking of Yunho’s sandalwood essence cologne.

“Sure, where did you put it? I need it.” I didn’t have to look to see Yunho roll his eyes, I continued feigning that I was reading the book, but my eyes were stuck on the same sentence as I read it over and over again, the words not registering in my mind. It was hard to focus when Yunho was around.

“Are you going on a date, or what’s the rush?” I willed my heartbeat to remain steady at Wooyoung’s teasing question, to bite back the whine that threatened to leave my lips. I had no right to make claims over Yunho, but my wolf seemed to struggle to understand that. We weren’t mated, and we’d probably never be with how Yunho disregards my existence.

“Where is it, Wooyoung?” Yunho had lost his patience as his voice had an edge, his shadow still looming over us as I heard San fidget around as he turned onto his stomach to continue his homework.

“In Mingi’s bottom drawer, by the bed, where he keeps his condoms—”

“Alright.” Yunho’s tone raised, a tired huff leaving his mouth as San snickered under his breath. I didn’t react but I would’ve smiled too, Wooyoung’s brutal honesty and oversharing skills, I fear, would never be matched by anyone else I’d come across. I had a feeling it was the same for San and Yunho too, “Stop taking my things or I’ll tell mom.”

“Stop being a pussy and always ratting me out to mom,” Wooyoung’s tongue was stuck out as Yunho leaned down and harshly flicked his little brother’s forehead, making him yelp, “I’m telling mom!”

“Who’s the pussy now, huh?” I couldn’t help the smile spreading onto my lips this time as Wooyoung started whining loudly as he rubbed his forehead, his scent souring just a little bit.

San’s heart skipped a beat and I wondered whether the other two noticed, but based on their glaring contest, I highly doubted it, “Whatever, Y/N’s reading the same book as you are. Didn’t you say—”

“I’ll see you at dinner, Wooyo.” Yunho’s sharp intake of breath made me gulp as I fought hard to not show my disappointment, I knew Yunho wasn’t interested in me, but going to the extent of not even wanting to hear about me definitely stung a lot, “And don’t bother Sannie too much.”

Don’t bother Sannie too much, but I suppose he could bother me. Not that Yunho had even noticed me lounging around on the blanket, despite Wooyoung being almost all nestled up into my side since San wasn’t paying any attention to him now. I gulped down the bitterness and growing lump in my throat as Yunho departed, his footsteps loud and heavy, the sounds of the world returning to my ears once he wasn’t around anymore. Breathing was easier too, but it was a bit difficult seeing anything written on the yellowing paper since my vision was suddenly blinded by tears. It was alright, I have heard of mates that weren’t fated to be together. Of mates where only one of them imprinted on the other, and was forced to watch the love of their life mate with someone else, forced to live and die alone, without having ever experienced true and honest love. It was alright, I wouldn’t know how to gesticulate a relationship either way. I gulped and blinked my eyes fast, willing the tears to disappear before Wooyoung could notice them.

The younger boy sighed loudly next to me before he rolled over, crawling on San’s back as he laid his cheek against his friend’s scapula, “Do you mind if I take a nap like this?”

“No.” San’s voice was deeper as we shared a knowing look, Wooyoung remaining oblivious to San’s racing heart as his cheeks flushed in embarrassment when I gave him a subtle wink. If I couldn’t find my happiness, then I truly wished at least my best friend would. He’d deserve it, San deserved to be cherished and loved like no one else, and I had a feeling Wooyoung would be able to provide San with everything he needed. If only he wasn’t so oblivious to San’s feelings, besides, I had never seen Wooyoung courting anyone, we had no idea of his preferences. Whenever San tried to bring up the subject, he’d told me Wooyoung would smartly twist it until they weren’t even talking about it anymore. Maybe he was avoiding it because he had noticed San’s reactions and was afraid to hurt his best friend, or maybe he was avoiding it because he had been feeling something he didn’t understand quite yet. It wasn’t taboo for werewolves to find love amongst their own gender, but I suppose growing up in a place where nobody was like you must be nerve-wracking and rather full of uncertainty. This only made me realize that despite the cons of living in the big city had its pros as well since I grew up in a diverse and inclusive place, open and uncaring of who loved who.

But if Wooyoung’s romantic preferences remained unknown to us, Yunho’s certainly didn’t. He was unlike anyone I have met before, starting from his personality and ending with his looks. He was the eldest of the family, a good few minutes older than his twin brother, Mingi, and so naturally he was also the biggest and strongest. He was intimidatingly tall and freakishly broad, his shoulders wide and his back strong. He wasn’t visibly muscular but I’ve seen him countless times lifting logs, and even heavier things, without breaking a sweat to know that Yunho was outrageously strong. His hair was a dark brown and it had grown out since I had first met him, now always messy and curly as it reached his shoulders, making him look more boyish than the first time I had seen him. He had red highlights in his hair a year ago, adding to his mysterious allure, as his lips were a soft pink, the apple of his cheeks and nose dusted coral, which was a nice contrast with his paler complex, unlike Mingi’s whose skin was a beautiful caramel. The twins weren’t identical, but upon a closer look, you were able to tell just how many attributes they shared.

Yunho loved experimenting with his style, and he mostly wore coloured clothes, all flashy and somehow still cosy looking, however, his shoes always seemed to be mismatched. It was a peculiar feat that had me wondering whether Yunho was just generally weird or he just had a particular taste when it came to fashion, I soon had realized it was the latter. His nails were always well-kept and painted either a turquoise or a yellow colour, bringing attention to his already beautiful hands, his fingers long and bony and mostly decorated by black rings. His scent, that earthy firewood and vanilla, was just as attention-grabbing as the rest of Yunho. If I hadn’t known better, I would’ve assumed Yunho was a very serious person, highly focused on his education, someone who spent his days cooped up in his room reading and learning all the time. But the Songs weren’t too focused on getting high grades, and that became apparent rather quickly after I arrived at the Academy. Yunho was a goofy guy, he loved having fun and he really enjoyed being surrounded by people, always eager to share a laugh with someone, or just fall into idle chitchat for hours on end. People seemed to gravitate towards him, eager to have a word with him. It wasn’t just him, though, students at the Academy all seemed to love the Song family, especially the twins who felt like fresh air in the dull and mediocre town that Nocturnal Parade seemed to be at first glance.

However, as mediocre as it was, I had never felt more at ease in a place before. It truly felt like I had found a community for myself and for my family, a place where everyone had your back and expected nothing in return even at the slightest of help offered. My parents loved it here, it was rather obvious since my mother was smiling more, the wrinkles were gone from her face, and my father wasn’t as stressed as before. Working as an archivist in the big city had been demanding, but in this quiet town where nobody was rushing forward with their lives, my parents could take a breather. And I could too, until I quickly realized I had been blatantly rejected by my potential mate before even getting to know them. The day we had arrived in Nocturnal Parade had been long and nerve-wracking, I had no idea what would await us in this new place. That same day, the werewolves threw a welcoming party for our family, eager to welcome us into their pack.

It was late evening by the time my family had sorted most things out at our small house, which was on the same street as the Songs and right by the Pinecone Forest, the perfect neighbourhood for relentless werewolves that needed a lot of space to get rid of their impulsive energy. The party was in the backyard of the Songs family and was full of creatures by the time we made it there. It was warm, welcoming, and felt genuine from the second we stepped through their threshold. The family was big, but each one of them was gentle and eager to meet us, even the troublemakers which were Wooyoung and Yeri. And after that, it didn’t take long for me to become once again invisible as I stood close to the drinks table in the Songs' backyard, gazing out towards the bonfire as the sun was about to set. The evening breeze was warm still and a light sheen of sweat coated my temples as I sipped my cool lemonade slowly, embarrassed to refill it for the fourth time. My solace, however, didn’t last for longer as I noticed two towering figures beeline towards me. Their hair was tousled and they looked like they had been wrestling before they headed here, and I felt nervous upon realizing that they were probably the twins Mrs. Song had been talking about.

They had been out on their evening run and would only join us later, and they were very much so headed my way to introduce themselves. My heart was racing and I felt nervous, but I willed myself to calm down since I didn’t want to embarrass myself in front of two potential classmates once I’d started attending Wilden Pine Academy, which had been another anxiety-inducing thought at that time. The two guys, so very different in appearance yet so similar in mannerisms, sported matching smiles on their faces by the time they reached me. The one who was dressed in all-black and wore heavy jewellery had long hair which was pulled back into a half-up ponytail, his hair blonde and red, a rather cool-looking hairstyle. His features were sharp and his gaze was intense, but his open-mouthed boxy smile softened his features, his crooked front teeth endearing. The other one, however, was dressed in a pink crop top and high-waisted yellow jeans, one of his sneakers green meanwhile the other was turquoise. His hair had been shorter than the other guy’s, darker in colour too as it had red highlights, parted at the forehead. His features were a lot softer, his eyes rounder and warm, his cheeks puffy and rosy, his pouty lips a dark purple. His nails were painted turquoise and his jewellery was a lot simpler than the other guy’s, and I quickly realised that unless he was smiling, he looked just as intimidating as his twin brother.

But really, Yunho’s appearance wasn’t the first thing that caught my attention, sure, he looked unusual and made me remember the days when I was a lot younger and would purposefully dress up my Barbie dolls in silly outfits and organise pageants for them, but it was all about his scent and demeanour. The world seemed to dim around me when we had made eye contact, my arms and legs feeling numb suddenly as his rich earthy musky scent tinged with a hint of sweat invaded my nostrils, followed by firewood mixed with vanilla making my tongue feel like lead. My heart was racing and I couldn’t do anything about it as I watched Yunho’s pupils expand, his body turning rigid as Mingi remained oblivious to the subtle exchange between me and his twin. I had known that whatever I felt just upon a glance and a whiff weren’t simple reactions of my body, but when I heard his voice and touched his warm skin, all of my fears and worries were answered.

“Hi,” It was the slightly shorter twin that addressed me first, his voice deep and lightly raspy, “You must be the Byuns’ daughter, right?”

I wasn’t able to find my voice as I nodded wordlessly, hands tightening around my cup of icy lemonade. Thankfully they didn’t seem offended by my lack of verbal response, I could only pray they would assume my heart raced so wildly because I was nervous. I tried to ignore the fact that the taller twin’s heart was thumping even louder than my own heart, blaming it on the remaining adrenaline from his run, “My name is Yunho and this is my twin brother, Mingi.”

One large hand was extended towards me then, and as I grabbed it to shake it, I was positive Yunho must’ve felt the electricity that coursed through my body at the simple touch. It had felt as if my whole being was charged, as if I was experiencing the whole world for the first time. Everything sounded sharper, looked brighter, and smelled fresher. I could feel Yunho’s pulse in my own palm, his gorgeous eyes shaking as we stood frozen, gripping each other’s hands tightly. But upon Mingi’s awkward throat clearing, I ripped myself away from under the charm, and faced the guy with a small smile, “Nice to meet you two, I’m Y/N.”

Touching Mingi, however, felt like touching anyone else. My body was still tingling from Yunho’s touch, but I had felt nothing special as Mingi grinned widely at me, his handshake just a little firmer than Yunho’s had been. Once we released each other’s hands I was quick to down my lemonade, subtly trying to pat the sweat from my temples away, embarrassed over the fact that my scent was most probably spiking and irking them. But neither boy commented about it as Yunho’s deep eyes remained trained on me, tracking all of my actions.

“You just arrived, right?” Yunho’s voice was a lot steadier than mine had been, and I gulped, trying to ignore the sigh that threatened to leave my lips at the warm rumble of his tone.

“Yes, somewhere around noon. The drive wasn’t too long, though.” I hoped if I spoke fast and a lot they would blame my reactions on nervousness, “We’ve been looking forward to moving here, I’ve heard a lot of great things about this town due to the Petrovas and everything. I assume living here is rather good.”

The mention of that name seemed to make the twins grimace, but I didn’t pry and they didn’t say anything about it, “Surely it is, we’ve moved here roughly nine years ago, but it just feels like we were meant to be in this town, to live here.”

Mingi’s tone was earnest as he spoke and I smiled at him, my eyes constantly slipping back onto Yunho, who looked like he hadn’t blinked since the twins had reached me. I gulped and smiled softly at him, wondering whether he felt the same visceral emotions as I did in his presence, under his burning stare.

“I hope I’ll find a home in this town too, I haven’t been here for long, but it certainly feels a lot cosier than the big city had been for my whole life.” My tone turned a bit sour as I shifted on my feet, making the twins look at me curiously.

“You’re from Colourful River, right? It’s a big city, we always liked going there for random trips.” It made me wonder if Yunho and I had unknowingly run into each other before, but my inner wolf told me that we hadn’t. If we had been, I’m sure our parents would’ve never been able to separate us from each other, “It must’ve been nice living amongst humans.”

I tried not to stare at Yunho’s inviting plush lips while he spoke, but it was hard. Everything about him was so captivating, “Since the city is closer to the South than North, it isn’t dominated by humans, but they were rather alright, not as scared as all the legends say. But if you go up North they might not be as friendly as those living closer to the border.”

“Did you have human friends?” Mingi’s tone was eager as he grinned at me, and I didn’t want to disappoint him, but there was no point in lying to these two.

“I didn’t have many friends,” I muttered, chuckling a bit sadly, “But the humans were less evil compared to the night creatures.”

Silence settled upon the three of us as I didn’t look up at the two, but Yunho’s stare remained insistent. He had stepped closer meanwhile we had been conversing, and I hadn’t even noticed until his strong scent hit my nose once again, making me take a deep breath and gulp it down hungrily, thankful when it felt like the scent got stuck in my throat. I hadn’t experienced anything like this before, but the yearning to be close to him, to touch him and feel him was overwhelming all of a sudden as I looked up, finding Yunho’s head tilted as his eyes slowly racked over my body. It made my cheeks burn and my muscles tense, my wolf stirring in something that I could only call arousal. I have certainly not experienced anything like this before with anyone. I wondered if this meant anything deeper, whether imprinting on first sight was a real thing or only something made up for hopeless romantics.

“You’ll see finding friends here will be a lot easier than in the big city,” Mingi’s smile was warm and he reached a hand out to pat my arm, making Yunho’s eyebrows furrow as he looked at his twin sharply. Mingi just cast him a curious glance before his name was being called by his mother, her voice louder than the cacophony of the party, “Oh, I’ll be back after I see what mom needs from me.”

Then he left, jogging towards his mother with a smile. Yunho, however, took another step towards me, looming over me as his eyebrows furrowed, nostrils flaring as I gulped nervously, wondering whether he felt the same as I did. I wanted to ask, but I was embarrassed. He reached a hand forward, his fingers brushing against mine, but he seemed to catch himself as he took a step back, jaw set tightly. And then, without saying anything, he turned and hurried away, ignoring the people who called out his name. My heart raced as I watched him leave, suddenly feeling cold and empty. The wolf in my head whined and whispered at me to chase after him, to claim him and tell him that he was ours, but I couldn’t do that. Yunho had free reign of his feelings and thoughts, I couldn’t force something like that on him. We hadn’t even known each other five minutes ago, it would’ve been so wrong.

But what was even more wrong and more painful than anything I had experienced before was the fact that Yunho never looked my way again after that, remaining silent and avoidant, ignorant, he’d even flee the room if it was just the two of us. I didn’t even have the chance to have him before I lost him, and deep down, I knew I had been denied by my own mate. It was painful, but it wasn’t anything I could change, at least, it didn’t feel like it at the moment.

With the Spring Break right around the corner, the hallways were liverier than before as students pilled together, eagerly discussing what they were up to once they’d return home. The professors seemed to be in a lighter mood as well, a lot friendlier too, and more understanding if someone slacked off a bit. Everyone but our Literature professor, who demanded we hand in our essays right before the week ended. Today was Friday and we’d be heading home tomorrow, I was hitchhiking with San’s family since they’d offered to drive us home as they were out of town and would drive by our Academy on their way home. San’s parents were busy businessmen so they were always on the go, oftentimes leaving San and his much older sister at home, who was a rather successful makeup artist in Nocturnal Parade and not just. She’d gotten an out-of-town offer just last month and the gig went well, so, she was now successfully expanding her business. But because I had been procrastinating my essay until the last moment, it meant that I had been cooped up in the Library this whole morning, and then later in the Study Hall as late evening was approaching.

My muscles ached from sitting in the same spot for so long and my eyes stung from being too dry, I had been staring at my laptop’s bright screen for an ungodly amount of time, if I wasn’t a werewolf I bet my eyesight would be horrible by now. Thankfully, the Study Hall was a lot less packed than usual, and the absence of students meant I could work in peace without distractions. That is until Yunho decided to walk into the vast room, eyes scanning the place and quickly jumping over my presence as my eyes burned into the side of his head. Of course, it was no surprise that I had been completely ignored by him once again, resigned, I went back to the finishing touch-ups of my essay. My heart ached and my hands felt cold now that I knew Yunho was in my vicinity, so close, yet miles away still. I gulped and willed myself to ignore his musky scent that seemed to haunt my every sense now, and I could’ve cheered when I was finally finished with the essay. I didn’t waste any more time sending it to my professor as I swiftly gathered my things and rushed out of the Study Hall, heart racing in my chest.

My muscles had been aching for an evening run and I knew I’d have to skip dinner tonight since I felt restless, my thoughts messy and filled with anxious whispers. Since most students were returning home tomorrow morning, it meant that the community would be organising a welcome home bonfire as soon as possible. The bonfires were great and I always had a good time, but it was inevitable to come across the Song family there since they were the main organizers of it. Just last year, when the Summer Break finally arrived, I had been squeezed between Wooyoung and, tragically, Yunho on a log, forced to endure Yunho’s rigid stance and complete ignorance as he chatted and laughed with everyone around us. My skin had been burning, not because of the close proximity to the fire, and my wolf was whining at me to touch him, to lean closer, to speak to Yunho. But I knew it was pointless, and thus, decided to save myself from embarrassment as I quickly excused myself and walked back home, rather glad that San wasn’t home to pester me about my sudden sour mood. San was a dear friend, but sometimes he was awful at giving me space, at understanding that I needed to be alone to figure my thoughts and feelings out.

That was why I never let him know when I’d go on runs, I preferred to be alone either way. The air wheezing past my ears, which were in tune with everything around me, was always freeing and relaxing. My jumbled thoughts became a silent murmur in the back of my mind as my paws hit the forest floor powerfully, strong and long legs carrying me far away from the Academy, from the campus, from any other possible wolf that I could come across. I liked solitary, it’s what I knew my whole life, it was comfortable and comforting. Whenever I let my wolf take over, it was as if I was reborn once I shifted back into my human form. I felt invincible as my burgundy fur gleamed under the setting sun rays, and I leered whenever another animal made haste in my presence. In my wolf form, everything felt simpler, more primitive, and less complicated. If I could, I would probably never shift back into my human form, but that was unethical and very unhealthy. I wasn’t a wolf, I was just a simple werewolf, and abandoning my human side would mean that I was going rogue. And lone, rogue, werewolves never survived for long. It wasn’t what we were designed for, so I couldn’t abandon my true self.

My run tonight had taken longer than usual, the forest was now dark as I returned to the shed that lay just on the outskirts of the campus, not too close, but not too far either in case of an emergency. I had found it on an early morning stroll with San, and I had been using it as my hideout ever since. It was a good spot for privacy while I’d change out of my clothes, away from prying eyes when I’d turn back into my human form, naked and unprotected. I wasn’t uncomfortable by nudity, after all, it was rather common and normal amongst werewolves to see each other bare, but I was shy, and thus, preferred to remain hidden from other’s eyes. San had joked once that I was a prude and old-fashioned, but I just simply wished that not everyone saw me so exposed, it was a tiny bit embarrassing even if it was very normal for our kin. So, the shed was the perfect spot for me to stay out of sight while being close enough to campus that if I was late for curfew I’d make it back swiftly and unnoticed, like tonight. I knew I probably had only a few minutes to make it back to the right wing, but as I had no devices on me, I wouldn’t know until I made it back to my clothes. San was certainly blowing up my phone by now, asking where I was and why I didn’t join him when it was quiz night—which only meant that I would question him about whichever lesson he had decided he didn’t know well enough, so really, it wasn’t a fun activity, but I loved San, so, I helped him out from time to time.

Taking a deep whiff of the air, waiting for a second to determine whether anyone was in my vicinity, I was glad when my wolf sensed nothing, so I nudged the shed’s door open with my fur-coated head and walked inside. The small lamp I had turned on cast a dim warm hue over the abandoned place, and I approached the table as I felt my bones shifting, my jaw locking in tight and my lungs constricting for a second. My joints popped and my head felt like it was splitting in two, but it all lasted for a second or two, until I was standing tall on my legs, hands reached out to stabilise myself on the table. Shifting wasn’t painful by any means, but it always left me a bit disoriented. The doctors in the city had told me it was because I was an early bloomer, my body forced to mature before its right time, so it wasn’t anything necessarily bad, just uncomfortable. As I regained my senses and shook my head to clear the dizziness, my muscles locked up and my wolf purred loudly, almost to the point it escaped past my own lips. Something was amiss. In the dim lighting, I noticed another heap of clothes thrown on the ground, just by the entrance. The scent too…it was familiar, too familiar, and I panicked. How had I missed it? Had I become so used to it that it didn’t faze my wolf anymore?

As I hastily tried to grab my clothes, nakedness be damned I’d get dressed on the way, the shed’s door was slammed open, a low grunt echoing in the otherwise silent space. My eyes widened as a gorgeous black wolf with orchid eyes stared back at me, huffing and puffing as saliva dripped from its mouth. It was big and strong, its vanilla and firewood scent a lot more permeating than before. My knees felt weak as my hands tightened into the table, holding myself up since my brain was short-circuiting. For a second, the big black wolf didn’t move, its snarl loud in the shed, but then, bones cracked and the black fur slowly disappeared as the wolf shifted into something more human looking, tall and lean, strong and…very naked. My eyes widened when I finally realised it was Yunho standing in the doorway, his eyes still orchid coloured as they bled into mine, and I was frozen as my wolf started whining, whispering to me to approach Yunho, to touch his hot and strong body, to entice him and make him claim us.

Yunho’s body was anything like I had seen before. He was alluring by all means, and the lower my eyes dropped the tighter my chest felt, the lump in my throat getting bigger and harder to ignore. I had seen many guys naked before, but they couldn’t compare to Yunho, everything about him was…big. My hands flattened against the surface of the table and I tilted my head before I could stop myself, well aware that my wolf was more in charge of me than my own conscience, my eyes a bright orchid as Yunho’s lips pressed into a straight line, his eyes not shy of taking in every curve of my body, his hands balling up into fists at his sides. It was hard to breathe, and it was even harder to control my bodily reactions when Yunho was so close, so exposed and vulnerable for taking. And maybe he was thinking the same thing because all of a sudden, we were moving towards each other, our eyes glimmering in the dim light and our chests heaving as I bared my fangs at Yunho, whose lips curled into a low snarl. I was so close to touching him, I could feel his body heat, but I knew I couldn’t. We weren’t ourselves just yet, the adrenaline coursed through our bodies from the run, and our wolves were stronger and louder than under normal circumstances. He would’ve been so easy to touch, though, as we stopped barely a few feet away from each other, desire written all over his features, but in a last attempt to find control over my body and mind, I snapped out under my wolf’s control.

I found my voice, but just barely, as my cheeks flushed a deep red, “I’m—I—I thought nobody knew of the shed, I—I’m, uh, I’m sorry for barging in. I didn’t know—I’ve never seen you here before, I—”

“Y/N.” Yunho’s voice was deeper than ever before, his round eyes dangerous as they were narrowed into slits, watching me closely. Just hearing my name said like that shut me up really fast as my heart raced in my chest, and I knew Yunho could hear it. It was so loud. I could’ve touched him, my wolf wanted it desperately, but Yunho wasn’t himself just yet, he didn’t look like it, “I’ve gone to this Academy for longer than you, of course I know about this place. Mingi and I come here all the time.”

I released a shuddering breath, forcing my eyes to stay on his face, anywhere but lower as I couldn’t trust myself and my wolf just yet. I really wanted to reach out and trace his firm muscles, to cradle him close to myself, to burry my face between his pecks, to lick the sweat beads that rolled down his navel, lower into his happy trail until they reached his— “You should go before Mingi returns.”

I jumped, mouth dry as I realised I was staring lower than I was supposed to, my whole chest and ears burning now, not just my cheeks, “I’m sorry.” I managed to mutter before I hurried back to the table and clumsily put on my clothes. I knew I looked like I had been mauled by how messy my hair was, my shirt untucked and one of the pantlegs rolled lower than the other, but I needed to leave before I’d do something I’d regret later. Yunho wasn’t mine, we weren’t mated, and I couldn’t do anything about it. But as I went to rush past him, he caught my wrist with frightening speed, his palm hot and large. I gulped but didn’t look at him, my eyes falling on the heap next to his clothes, very clearly Mingi’s now that he had pointed it out.

“You shouldn’t show yourself to just anyone, Y/N, it’s lowly.” The pang in my heart was more painful than anything I had experienced before. What did he mean by that? I had literally been on out a run, of course, I wasn’t showing myself to just anyone, it was only normal I was naked, or was I supposed to shift while wearing my clothes only to rip them apart? Besides, who had permitted him to say such things when he was the biggest manwhore I had known to date?! His words hadn’t just hurt me, they ignited an angry fire deep in my veins that had lay dormant for too long.

“Is it lowly shifting back into my human form after a run, Yunho? Really?” I chuckled humourlessly, my next words coming out in a snare as I looked at him with a glare, “You’re rather quick to judge me when you have no shame sleeping with half of the Academy, shouldn’t that be considered lowly?”

Before Yunho could say anything and before I could regret the words I had just spoken, I stormed off, flinching as I almost collided with a large white wolf, its head tilted in confusion as we stared at each other for a second. I gulped and averted my orchid-coloured eyes, “Hello, Mingi.”

The wolf huffed and bowed his head slightly, and despite wanting to flee, I pushed the door open for him as the wolf let out an appreciative whine, its eyes switching between Yunho and me once it was halfway inside the shed. But I didn’t wait around to hear Mingi’s questions as I rushed back to campus, checking my phone to see five missed calls from San and ten even angrier texts than the voicemails he left, clearly upplaying his sadness. I could hear Wooyoung’s witchy cackle in the background as he no doubt was playing on San’s new PlayStation. A quick text later, I let San know that I had lost track of time while I was on my run and that we’d see each other during breakfast the next morning. Sneaking around the dorms to sleep in San’s bed tonight would’ve been worth, if only my heart and mind weren’t in turmoil, aching all over again due to Yunho’s nasty and undeserved assumptions. I had no idea why he acted so differently with me, it’s like he was a completely different person in my presence, and I didn’t enjoy it. It hurt me deeply. What had I done to deserve such coldness from him?

The ride home with the Chois was filled with laughter and sharing stories, the radio lowered once San and I started telling them about the Academy and our classes. San’s family had always felt like a second family to me. They were warm and very loving people, even if I had initially struggled to warm up to them, they had never pushed or pried for any information, no matter how insignificant it was. Thus, I came to trust them rather quickly since Mrs. Choi loved baking and would often invite me over during the holidays. Besides, I’d always leave with a basketful of whichever cookies Mrs. Choi decided to bake that day, and since my mother has a sweet tooth, she was always more than eager to send me over to the Chois to help them out. San’s parents' business trip was successful and they managed to expand their branches to the North as well, which would require them frequent trips to Aurora Falls, which was the biggest human settlement in our country. It seemed that there were human investors who were eager to expand their businesses to the South, which would benefit them a lot since their franchises were mostly nonexistent around here. It was a day to celebrate, which the Chois were really good at doing. I knew they’d smuggle in some really expensive champagne tonight to the bonfire, after all, they did everything with grandeur.

My parents had been lounging around the front porch when the Chois's expensive SUV pulled up in front of our humble abode, my mother’s face had lit up like a Christmas tree as she came to welcome me home, and the Chois as well. After quick hugs and kisses, the Chois were off and I was left with my parents, who were smiling from ear to ear.

“Look at you!” My father had said as he engulfed me in a bear hug and spun me around, making me giggle into his chest, “You’re radiating, what are they feeding you at the Academy?”

“Mrs. Nam’s cooking is really delicious, but I don’t think it’s because of the food.” I giggled as my feet had finally touched the ground. My mother stood to the side, my duffle bag already in her hand as she shook her head at our antics, “I suspect it’s the clear air and the vast forest grounds.”

“You’re still running on your own?” My mother’s eyebrows had furrowed as I walked up to her, throwing an arm around her shoulders as we headed for the house. The rumble of a loud engine reached our ears as we took the steps up the porch. I knew whose car it was, it was hard to miss when nobody else’s car engine was as loud as the Song twins, “Mrs. Song told me her sons had proposed to go on runs with you, but you’ve turned them down each time. I know we’re all still adjusting to living in a pack, but having company on your runs is actually very healthy for you and your wolf, my dear.”

I wished to correct my mother that it had been Mingi who had proposed to come on runs with me, no mention of Yunho. We had crossed paths once while we were both out hunting during a full moon and because my cramps had been really bad that day, Mingi was nice enough to remain a respectable distance away and guide me for the night, keeping an eye out for other not-so-kind predators. There were months when my shifting went a little haywire during the full moon, my senses dull and my bones all miss shaped. Again, the doctors hadn’t found anything wrong with me, they suspected it was due to my early blooming, which wasn’t helping much. As we reached the front door, my father already opening it for us, the honk of a loud car made us turn back and look towards the orange Jeep, its windows rolled down, and the younger Song siblings cooped up in the backseat.

“Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Byun!” Mingi called from the driver’s seat, all smiles as his glasses looked to be slipping off his nose. Wooyoung was just as enthusiastic as he leaned out the window, the car going at a slow pace now that they had almost reached their house.

“See you tonight, right?!” Wooyoung shouted as he grinned widely, pointing specifically at me, “Can’t leave Sannie on his own, right?!”

“Right.” My voice didn’t have much force to it as my eyes stalled on Yunho, who was facing the windshield, his jaw set tight as he looked at Mingi and said something inaudible. I released a quiet sigh as we stepped through the doorway, my parents sharing a laugh at the siblings' antics. I tried to ignore the lump in my throat, the fire in my veins, the ache of my heart. Yunho’s hurtful words were still too fresh in my mind, the look in his eyes and the vivid image of his body a constant image in the front of my mind. It wasn’t surprising that I was still thinking about him. We had encountered each other just last night, after all, but I wished we never had. It was hard to ignore the yearning, especially when we were back at home, forced to visit the Songs weekly since our parents had grown so close with each other. I was happy for them, don’t misunderstand me, but I wished the Song parents stopped blaming my ‘loneliness’ on being an only child, thus forcing me to constantly hang out with their children. I didn’t have any issues with the five of them, per se, but I hardly found anything I had in common with them—minus Yunho, since he wouldn’t even look my way, let alone have a conversation with me.

“You should tell San to sleep over tonight, maybe his parents can stay too!” My father’s words distracted me from my thoughts as I headed for the stairs, eager to fall into my comfortable bed, no Yeri to disturb my peace this time.

“Honey, they had barely returned home, let the Chois enjoy having their son home for at least three more days.” My mother gently chastised my father as she headed up the stairs after me, my duffle bag still in her hand, “He’ll sleep over before they go back to the Academy.”

“Fine, but I found a really cool book about genealogy, I’m sure he’d love reading through it.”

“Sure, honey, sure.” My mother and I shared an amused look which made us chuckle, my father’s mumbled words blending into the background as he was headed for his study room, surely eager to get back to whatever book he was reading this time, “Get some sleep before lunch, Mama Song asked us to head over before they set the bonfire, she’s making a new mushroom stew recipe she’d like us to try.”

“Yeah, okay,” I mumbled as I fell face-first into my pillows, groaning loudly as my muscles finally eased up, my body cocooned in the safety of my own scent. Finally, a little peace of mind.

But that peace of mind didn’t last for long. The Song household was buzzing with life and laughter even before the other members of our community had started joining the bonfire. The mushroom stew was beyond delicious, and if I wasn’t too shy, I would’ve asked for a second plate but decided I could sneak in sometime during the evening and have a second plate, I knew Mrs. Song wouldn’t mind since she was generous like that. Lunch went surprisingly well, mostly with everyone talking over each other, especially Wooyoung, Yeri, and Mr. Song, but that was to be expected. The Songs were very eccentric people and their household had always been chaotic. However, what did take me by surprise was the presence of a newcomer, someone who wasn’t a werewolf. Her hair was dark and fell in long curls, her skin pale and her eyes very sharp, her lips the colour of blood and her stance very elegant. If I hadn’t known better, I would’ve thought she hated us, but anytime Mingi looked at her she’d smile at him and her heartbeat would waver whenever he laughed. It wasn’t hard to guess that she was the Petrova heir, the youngest vampire of the Bae’s. Knowing so much about them, thanks to my father, sitting at a table with her now felt surreal.

She didn’t look like she wanted to talk much, but when my father’s innocent curiosity got the best of him and he started asking questions, she seemed rather pleased that she could gloat about her family. Her tone was sharp and she spoke rather straightforwardly, yet it was somehow obvious she didn’t mean bad. She was a peculiar person and I felt immense respect for her, no real reason as to why, maybe it’s because I thought she was very cool. I wasn’t brave enough to speak to her, so, besides stolen glances and a few shared glances, no words passed between the two of us. Besides, she was an amazing distraction to preoccupy my busy mind since conveniently Yunho and I ended up sitting next to each other. His body was warm, his scent almost tangible, and with every bite I took of my stew, it felt as if Yunho’s sandalwood scent was deep in my throat, forcing me to gulp down copious amounts of water as if I was sitient all the time. Yunho sat rigidly next to me, his body mostly turned away from me and facing Dahyun, his youngest sister, who looked absent-minded as she played with her fork, occasionally staring at Mingi if he made the vampire girl laugh. She carried Mingi’s scent and a bite mark was visible on her nape, it wasn’t hard to guess what she and Mingi were. Mates.

Thankfully, after lunch was over, San shortly arrived too and I could escape from the Song family, from Yunho, walking around the back garden as we searched for timber that would be good for the bonfire. Wooyoung, of course, came to join us and Dahyun was quick to do so too, with Mingi and Yunho busy setting up the back garden as our parents all helped. The vampire girl was busy in the kitchen, apparently, she could bake really yummy muffins, so she was busy doing just that. Once everything was set and people were coming over, Wooyoung sneaked off to bring us cans of beer, San cheering as we all uncapped ours, clinking them together loudly. The cold sparkling drink burned my parched throat as I wolfed it down, making San chuckle as Wooyoung was busy checking his friend’s free hand for splinters. I said nothing as a blush covered San’s cheeks, his eyes fond, as Wooyoung fussed about his friend.

“Mom said she’d leave us a little bit of champagne,” San grinned as he switched the hand holding his can of beer, Wooyoung’s eyebrows furrowed as his fingers gently traced San’s free palm, “It’ll be in the highest cupboard.”

“Only Mingi and Yunho can reach that high, though,” Wooyoung mumbled with a pout, still holding onto San’s hand despite being done with his inspection. I chuckled as San gave Wooyoung a look, his chest almost puffing out more.

“Are you sure about that?” He raised a straight eyebrow, leaning closer to Wooyoung’s face. I watched with intrigue as Wooyoung slightly caved in on himself, gulping almost nervously. His heartbeat remained steady, though, so I couldn’t tell for sure whether San’s proximity made him nervous, “Who got that stuck ball off the basket last time, I don’t reckon it was your brothers?”

“Well,” Wooyoung huffed, averting his eyes when San only leaned closer. I almost grinned when Wooyoung’s heart very loudly skipped a beat, but his eyebrows furrowed as he swiftly straightened himself, giving San a pointed look, “You can jump high. And I suppose you have strong arms, it was sheer luck, really.”

Before the two could start bickering, I chuckled and reached a hand out towards Wooyoung, “Won’t you check my hands for blisters too?”

Wooyoung seemed a little bit too eager to scurry off the log he was sharing with San as he kneeled in front of me, taking my hand into his. I chuckled and looked at San as I took a swing of my beer, Wooyoung’s warm fingers tracing lines as he hummed under his breath, turning my palm over, “You have pretty hands, Y/N.”

“Thank you,” I said, then switched my hands as Wooyoung continued to inspect them, a flush appearing on his face when San reached out to pet his hair since it was tousled by the wind earlier. It had settled now into a pleasant evening breeze. The chatter, music, and laughter coming from around the bonfire felt nice, warm. As I gazed at the fire, I was greeted by the sight of werewolves cosying up and sharing drinks and stories. I’ve never had this in the big city, it felt really nice to be surrounded by creatures that had your back even if they didn’t know you well.

Wooyoung chuckled, his finger digging into my skin, right underneath my pinkie, “Yunho has the same exact moles here too, on the same hand as well.”

My body froze as San’s eyebrows raised, he quickly scurried off the log to join Wooyoung crouching in front of me. I tried to keep the smile on my face, but the taste in my mouth soured as I looked down at the three moles that I’ve always had on my left palm, right underneath my pinkie finger.

“Really?” San sounded surprised and excited at the same time, “Are you sure?”

“Of course,” Wooyoung scoffed as he gave San a side glance, “He’s my brother, I know him. He’s always said that they look like stars. Before our sisters were born, he’d said they represented him, Mingi, and me. Of course, the closest to the one he called himself was Mingi because they are twins and blah blah, sometimes this twin thing gets old.”

“You’re just jealous.” San teased Wooyoung as my eyes were stuck on the three moles, something in my stomach dropping. I’ve always said the three dots looked like stars and represented my family: my mom, my father, and me. We’d always be there for each other, close by, looking over one another. Wooyoung and San’s voices drowned out as they started bickering about whether Mingi and Yunho had a deeper bond than any other werewolf due to them being twins, but my mind was spinning with this new piece of information. It suddenly felt wrong having those moles there, especially since Yunho didn’t want to have to do anything with me. I gulped, retracting my hand from Wooyoung’s hold as I stood abruptly, taking the two guys off guard.

“Uhm, I’ll just see what my parents are up to if you don’t mind…” I knew my scent had soured, San’s furrowed eyebrows told me he had realised something had upset me. But I just smiled and patted Wooyoung’s head before I walked around my friends, my heart slightly racing as the chilly evening seemed to bite at my nose, making me sniff harder and harder by the time I reached my parents, who were talking to the Academy’s Principal, Mr. Kim.

“Oh, Miss Byun,” The Principal was the first one to spot me, and he smiled as my parents beckoned me even closer, “I was just complimenting you. Ever since Miss Yeri started rooming with you, her grades not only went up but she’s been better behaved too.”

“Oh, uhm, that’s great.” I tried to even out my expression, praying that my parents wouldn’t question my souring mood, “I didn’t do much, just asked her to follow some rules. She also asked if I could sometimes help her out with her homework.”

“Fascinating,” The Principal muttered as my parents looked at me proudly, making me feel a little bit shy, “I knew letting her room with Miss Son wasn’t too smart, those two gave me more headache than the ruling board does on the daily.”

The Principal’s comment had my parents laughing, the shared glance between them amused, and suddenly I realised I’d never have that. I would never have a mate that stood by my side, cosied up to me, spoke to me about whatever insanity crossed their minds, no shared understanding glances, no cheek or neck nuzzles, no unbreakable bond, nothing. My jaw tightened as the air spiked with sandalwood and vanilla, and I hoped it would pass by before the tears could spring into my eyes. But the Universe seemed to be working against me today because the Principal caught Yunho’s bicep before he could stalk off, his expression soft and his eyes questioning. He hadn’t noticed my presence yet, because I knew his round eyes would turn harsh and his pouty lips would pull into a straight line the second he noticed me. His outgrown hair was tousled by the breeze, long strands framing his face handsomely as they brushed against his nape, some strands darker than the others.

“Mr. Song, fancy seeing you.” The Principal patted Yunho’s strong back with a proud smile, “I was just telling Mr. and Mrs. Byun how your little sister has been improving both academically and behaviour-wise too.”

“Oh,” Yunho’s pale cheeks flushed with colour as he slightly bowed, I could see my parents practically fawn over him. He was handsome, too handsome, everyone around here was in love with him whether they wanted to be or not, “I know my siblings give you a lot of headaches, but if it helps, you’ll have to deal with fewer of us after this year.”

The Principal laughed as he shook his head, “Between you and me, I’d rather have you and Mingi attend the Academy for five more years than your younger siblings, although Dahyun is a sweet girl despite being odd.”

Even if the comment wasn’t well received by Yunho, his left eye twitched slightly and his smile looked a bit forced all of a sudden, he just chuckled and bowed his head again, “They’ll mature with time, Mingi and I did too.”

“Indeed, that is true.” Then the Principal was suddenly facing me, and I noticed the way Yunho’s eyes slightly widened as if he actually hadn’t noticed me standing just a few feet away, “You’d be surprised to hear that Yunho was unstoppable as a child, we had to sedate him more than once during his runs. He also struggled to shift back until he became ten, isn’t that peculiar?”

Before Yunho could interject, however, my mother spoke up to my horror, “My daughter still struggles to shift, being an early bloomer is really straining.”

“I’m not an early bloomer, though.” Yunho’s tone was a bit harsher, but I bet nobody noticed but me as his eyes bore into mine, his face void of any emotion. I sighed and looked away, trying to push the image of his exposed collarbones due to his unbuttoned shirt out of my head. His cheeks seemed unnaturally pink, he must’ve used some blush before coming down for the bonfire.

“Sometimes when mates—”

“I think we should leave the younglings alone, no?” My father cut the Principal off with a charming smile as I looked at him, slightly taken aback. Nobody knew Yunho and I were supposed to be mates, not even Yunho, I hadn’t told a soul. I doubt my father knows, he must’ve misinterpreted Yunho and my exchange as I winced and he just cleared his throat, sounding uncomfortable. Then, without wasting another second, my father was rushing us towards the bonfire, my mother laughing at something the Principal said as I turned to look at my dad. He was smiling gently and winked when he caught my stare, making me question whether he truly was oblivious to whether I had already found my mate or not. Yunho and I marched towards the bonfire wordlessly, and I flinched when I felt his warm knuckles brush against the back of my hand, but almost as if it was a fragment of my imagination, Yunho was beelining it towards a log on which a girl I didn’t know sat, next to her Yeri with a bored expression on her face.

“Yunho!” The unknown girl called out, making grabby hands at him. I watched as Yunho grinned and sat next to her, leaning into her space as the girl instantly flushed. My stomach coiled as I averted my eyes towards the fire, feeling its warmth slowly seep into my bones, but my muscles didn’t ease up, they remained tense.

“Did you miss me, baby?” I tried not to whine as my wolf told me to pounce on the girl and drag her into the forest and show her what happens to those who touch Yunho, but I would’ve looked completely insane if I had done that. Yunho wasn’t done speaking, however, and I felt eyes on me which made my skin crawl, “I got held up, but I’m all yours now.”

I tried not to feel sick as I chanced a glance towards Yunho, who was looking at me with a smirk. I could feel tears threatening to appear in my eyes, I didn’t want to look pathetic, however, Yeri seemed to save me from the shame, “Dude, did you get me a beer?”

“Of course, I did.” Yunho chuckled, finally looking away from me, “Just don’t tell mom or Wooyoung.”

“I won’t, chill out.” Yeri scoffed as she opened her can of beer, grinning to herself in triumph, “My room is yours tonight, then.”

They shared a look and I released a shaky breath as I had decided that I needed a moment away from everything. I knew everyone could smell my spiked scent and hear my heart thudding in an uneven rhythm, I didn’t want them staring at me, so I quickly hurried inside the house and headed for the kitchen hoping it was deserted. Maybe I’d find that bottle of champagne San was talking about and help myself to it, I knew nobody would mind. The kitchen was dark when I stepped through the archway, so I quickly felt around the wall for the light switch and gasped when light flooded the kitchen. When I got too into my head, I completely missed other scents or heartbeats around me, otherwise the vampire girl wouldn’t have taken me off guard. She tilted her head and raised an amused eyebrow as she nibbled on a cherry.

“Did I scare you?” She asked, her tone still cold, “I thought werewolves have heightened senses too.”

“Uh, we do.” I muttered as I walked further inside the kitchen, “I was distracted.”

“Why is that?” The girl asked, looking curious as her expression slightly shifted.

“No reason.” I lied as I opened a cupboard and grabbed a tall glass.

“Are you drinking wine?” She looked surprised as I walked to the cupboard I knew the champagne was hidden in, “Can I have some too?”

I paused and considered her question for a second, then shrugged, “Sure, but it’s champagne.”

“Good, I like that more.” She smirked as she grabbed a tall glass too, then approached me. She was cold, she lacked the warmth werewolves emanated, but her scent was oddly not exactly hers. I studied her from my peripheral as I got on my tiptoes and grabbed the bottle of champagne. I had been around the Songs for long enough to know them by scent, and she very strongly reeked of Mingi. There was no further information needed to know they really were mated if only someone failed to notice her bite mark. The vampire girl said nothing as I opened the bottle of champagne, mindful of leaving some for San and Wooyoung as I poured the bubbly drink for the vampire before for myself. I could feel her eyes on me, studying me closely, and then she hummed, leaning her hip against the counter, “I might not be a werewolf, but you absolutely stink. Don’t get me wrong, all werewolves do besides Mingi, but your scent is very bothersome right now.”

I gulped, feeling my cheeks heating up as I placed the bottle of champagne back into the cupboard. Getting told that you stink certainly wasn’t very nice, but I knew firsthand that werewolves had distinctive scents, perhaps vampires weren’t too fond of it. Not that I knew much about vampires, there were few in Colourful River and they seemed to frolic more with the humans since they were their blood bags. Still, her comment only worsened my mood as I handed her one of the glasses, trying not to grimace.

“Sorry, I’ll try to keep it down next time,” I muttered over the rim of my glass, and then I took a bigger gulp than necessary. The vampire girl watched me with a raised eyebrow as she took a small sip, savouring the sweet taste unlike me. I didn’t like the amused glint in her eyes, it felt as if she was looking down on me, but I really wasn’t up for a confrontation right now.

“As much as I would love to insult you right now,” My eyes widened as the vampire girl sighed, “Over the past year I learned that when your scent turns sour, or just becomes really unbearable to me, it means that you’re upset. So, I didn’t mean to further upset you, I’m just not very good at understanding how werewolves function.”

I chuckled under my breath as my next words escaped before I could stop myself, “Funny you say that when you’re surrounded by werewolves only right now. Why do you even hang around us if you can’t stand us?”

Despite expecting harsh words as an answer to my jab, the vampire looked dejected as she leaned back into the counter, sighing loudly as she averted her eyes, “If it wasn’t for Mingi and I being—mates, then I certainly wouldn’t be here. When I was young, I had a really bad encounter with a rogue wolf and I have hated you all ever since, but I can’t deny the pull I feel towards Mingi, it’s weird, but it’s there. And when I had tried ignoring it, it had hurt the both of us, so I’m here now, trying to still embrace the fact that now I’m part of this pack that I’ve hated my whole life and of the family that’s been getting on my nerves ever since they moved to Nocturnal Parade.”

I hummed in surprise and took another sip of my drink, now suddenly understanding why the Song twins had reacted with disdain when I had brought up the Petrova family a year ago, I assume she and Mingi weren’t together yet then.

“It must’ve been hard accepting Mingi, then.” The girl’s cold exterior slowly melted away as she looked at me with surprise. I suppose she had been judged by many for her prejudices, but didn’t everyone have some? I couldn’t completely blame her for them, “Seeing a werewolf and a vampire together isn’t uncommon, but I haven’t heard of them being mated before. Do you mind if I ask how that happened?”

The vampire chuckled as she turned her head towards the window, gazing out as she took another sip of her champagne, “We were drunk and had sex. I, apparently, bit Mingi where his scent gland is and triggered his imprinting. It feels weird to think about it, that maybe we would’ve never ended up together otherwise, but I don’t think that’s true. I think I had always liked Mingi, my hatred had just gotten in the way of me realising my true feelings for him.”

I hummed, gaining a new perspective on their relationship. I have heard bits and pieces from Yeri, even Wooyoung sometimes, but Mingi’s younger sister was mostly speaking ill of the Petrova girl. Yeri didn’t like the vampire at all and never failed to go on angry rants about how much she wanted to rip Mingi’s mate apart, but she couldn’t because she’d been accepted by the family, so the vampire girl was now untouchable. Speaking to the vampire, however, wasn’t as awful as Yeri made me think it would be. She faced me again, her head tilted as she looked at me with a curious expression on her face.

“What’s your story? I don’t think we had spoken before, right?” She asked as I shook my head, plastering on a small smile.

“We moved here a year ago, the big city just wasn’t for us anymore.” I shrugged, then traced the edge of the counter with my finger as I averted my eyes from the vampire, “Nothing is interesting about me, I think I’m just a regular, boring, werewolf. I did make a friend, though, it’s Choi San, if you know him?”

“Of course, I do,” The vampire scoffed, rolling her eyes as if hearing my best friend’s name was irritating to her, “Wooyoung never shuts up about him, if I wouldn’t have known better, I’d suspect he’s in love with San.”

That caught my attention as I perked up, subconsciously leaning closer to the vampire. It felt as if she was wearing a patch of Mingi’s familiar scent, it was almost endearing if it wouldn’t have reminded me of the fact that I’d never have this with Yunho, “Really? You think Wooyoung is in love with San?”

The girl chuckled, looking at me with a smirk, “I wouldn’t want to assume such a thing, but you must know Wooyoung is very irritating, so he only settles down when I threaten to tell San he’s always gushing about him behind his back. That must mean something, no?”

I bit my lower lip, buzzing with excitement at the prospect of Wooyoung returning San’s feelings. However, I’d have to trade forward with this information very smartly, I didn’t want to ruin something that apparently had so much potential. I only wanted to see San happy with the person he loved with his whole might.

“I hope it means something,” I muttered into my glass as I took another sip, making the vampire girl’s eyes gain a mischievous glint. I hoped she wouldn’t say anything that would set back the two boys' relationship, but maybe I had finally gained an insider who could help me give tips to San to push their relationship a step forward.

“Interesting,” She mumbled as she took another sip as well, raising an eyebrow, “What about you, though? I know you’re rooming with Yeri, for which you have my condolences, but you’re connected to this family in more ways, right?”

I felt my palms sweat all of a sudden, “What do you mean?”

“I have sharp eyes, and very sensitive hearing. What’s between you and Yun—”

“Nothing, absolutely nothing.” I would’ve looked guilty even to a newcomer by how quick I was to shut down the vampire’s question and assumption, she hadn’t even fully spelled Yunho’s name yet. I gulped, feeling my heartbeat pick up, then I averted my eyes and hoped she would just drop the subject…but she didn’t.

“It’s not my place to say what I’m about to say next, but be careful.” My eyebrows furrowed as I dared take a peek at her from between my eyelashes, “The Song twins aren’t bad creatures, they really aren’t, but Yunho is…a jackass, simply put. He’s dated Seulgi, my friend, and things were really messy between them. I hear now he’s messing around with a girl who finished the Academy last year, I just don’t want to see you end up like Seulgi. You seem like a genuine werewolf, kind-hearted too, I would hate to see Yunho destroy it all. It’s not my place at all, I know, but maybe just let it be? Maybe it’s better if you’re not meant to be, you know?”

But we are meant to be, I wanted to say it, I wanted to snap at her, but she knew better. If she could see it, a complete outsider, then who was I to correct her? She had known Yunho for longer than me, she probably didn’t have any bad intentions by warning me, but it still hurt. I gulped and downed the last of my champagne, knowing that my scent had soured once again. I came here to escape everything that was Yunho, yet, he was the subject once again. I hated it, but I couldn’t do anything about it. As long as the both of us lived in this town, Yunho would somehow always be the subject, he was too popular and well-liked by the others.

“No, you’re right, I—” I paused when I realised I sounded shaky, “I don’t even like him, don’t worry. I know the type of guy he is, I won’t mingle with him. I’m glad you found Mingi, his scent is all over you, by the way.”

The vampire blushed all of a sudden, it surprised me, but I was glad I had successfully diverted the subject from Yunho. She had a fond look on her face as she tried to save herself with a loud scoff, downing her champagne quickly, “Mingi isn’t too possessive, but since I don’t have a scent as you guys do, he’s scenting me all the time. It was annoying at the beginning, but he wouldn’t stop, so, I just had to accept the fact that everyone would know I was with him now. It’s kind of endearing, but don’t let him know, please! His ego is already through the roof.”

I chuckled, wondering what she was talking about because Mingi was one of the nicest creatures I had ever met. We weren’t very close, but he always stopped to talk to me if we crossed paths in the hallways, and during the summer break, he’d even come over sometimes with baked goods, eager to discuss whatever book he’d lately read. I liked Mingi, he was nice to me and my family, sometimes perhaps too nice. Silence settled between the vampire girl and me, so I decided it was my time to excuse myself and join San and Wooyoung in the back garden once again. Surprisingly, I felt more at ease after speaking to the Petrova girl, I had always thought she was intimidating and too cold, but she was a lot nicer than I have been told. I cleared my throat and pointed towards the archway, an awkward smile making it onto my face.

“I’ll head back outside if you don’t mind.” But as I took off, she called out for me to stop.

“Wait,” The vampire cleared her throat and looked a bit embarrassed as she dug into her pocket, her lips pursed as she avoided making eye contact, “So, uhm, Dahyun forced me today to make some shitty bracelets with her and, honestly, I can’t give this shit to any of my friends, they aren’t werewolves.”

I quirked an eyebrow as she took her hand out of her pocket, then extended it towards me without meeting my eyes. Her palm opened and a simple, but pretty, brown leather bracelet sat in it. I chuckled, reaching for it with an amused smile. The bracelet was braided and it had a cute wood wolf charm, it looked like it was howling upon closer inspection. I was just about to make a playful comment about it when I noticed a very similar bracelet peeking out from underneath the sleeve of her blouse. The only difference was that the leather was a lighter brown than mine, so, I swallowed down my comment and instead looked at her with a big smile.

“Thank you!” It oddly felt like a friendship offer too, but I didn’t want to get too ahead of myself. Maybe she just genuinely didn’t want to give it to her other friends, maybe she was embarrassed to do so, “It’s really pretty.”

“Whatever,” The vampire grumbled as she lowered her hand, fidgeting with her bracelet absentmindedly, “That little animal forced me to—not that I’m calling Dahyun an animal, or other werewolves, I—well.”

I laughed quietly as I wore the bracelet, looking at it for a longer second before I grinned at the Petrova girl, “Don’t worry, I get what you’re saying. We are animals, after all, and since you’ve already brought that up, please be a little nicer to Yeri, I can’t keep listening to her whine about you.”

“I hate that brat.” The vampire scowled, but quickly caught herself, “I mean, sure, I’ll try to be nicer…sort of.”

I chuckled and raised my hand to wriggle my wrist, the wolf charm moving around, “Friends, maybe?”

The vampire seemed to think for a second before she smiled, a real smile that reached her sharp eyes too, “Yeah, friends.”

I felt rather happy as I left the kitchen, fulfilled even, that I had managed to befriend another creature, and this was the Petrova, well now Bae, heir on top of it all. It made me feel excited as I hurried out of the house, planning to tell San and even Wooyoung, but I almost collided with two creatures once out on the porch. The girl's giggles became quiet as my wide eyes stared up into Yunho’s equally surprised ones, but then, his grip tightened around the girl’s waist and he was suddenly manoeuvring themselves around me, a dark look crossing Yunho’s features. I gulped, my heart racing as I heard the girl mutter something about me to Yunho, and then both were laughing. It was fine, I was alright. Yunho was free to do however he pleased, he didn’t owe me anything, no explanations or promises. But my wolf howled inside my mind, a harsh ache suddenly hitting my insides, freezing me into my spot for a second as I gasped for air. I wondered if this exact feeling was the same as the vampire and Mingi had experienced when they tried ignoring their bond. If yes, it made me wonder how was I strong enough to still be going and acting as if Yunho wasn’t my mate, as if his ignorance wasn’t slowly killing me on the inside. All I wanted was to crumble to the ground and let the sobs wreck my body, but instead, I tried to clear my mind and find San’s scent to cosy up with him, burry my pain deep down, and revel in the safety my best friend had always offered me.

But as I finally reached my best friend, he was sitting by the bonfire with a very drunk Wooyoung stuck to his side, arms around San’s middle as his head was pressed into San’s collarbones. We made eye contact and San’s eyes were sparkling with elation and something else as he gestured with his head subtly at Wooyoung, so I knew I couldn’t bother them. I didn’t want to ruin their moment, I could basically smell just how happy, and drunk, San was. I would’ve been a terrible friend if I had walked up to them just to mop around without telling them the real reason for my displeasure, so I decided to just head home for the night. The champagne had left my blood buzzing, and even though I wasn’t tipsy, I knew how my night would end. I’d bury myself deep underneath my pillows and blanket and cry myself to sleep, letting out my wails since nobody would be able to hear me. My parents wouldn’t return for a few more hours, so I could just wallow in misery as loudly as I wanted to. But to leave, I had to grab my jacket first, which was in Wooyoung’s room courtesy to San who had thrown our jackets somewhere on his bed.

The house was silent as I made my way back inside, the kitchen dark once again, and since I couldn’t hear a second heartbeat, I knew the vampire girl had left, probably, to find Mingi. I realised I was fiddling with the wolf charm as I made my way up the stairs, my body covered in goosebumps for no reason. I had been inside this house multiple times, I knew where everything was, but for some reason, my intuition was telling me to turn around and just go home without my jacket. My wolf was basically whimpering in my mind, trying to convince me to turn around as I stepped off the last stair, ears picking up on a faint noise. The hallway wasn’t too narrow but it was long, and Wooyoung’s room was next to the upstairs bathroom, across from Yeri’s. The scents were so mingled up here that I couldn’t tell whether anyone was upstairs, so I just hoped I didn’t run into anyone because I wasn’t capable of conversing right now. I felt spent, upset, and heartbroken at the same time. I knew this would happen, I’d get ignored by Yunho once again, but it still stung each time it happened, I thought I had gotten used to it. Maybe I was reacting this badly because he had insulted me last night as well, and now his actions from tonight were also bugging me.

The faint noises got louder the closer I got to Wooyoung’s room, and with slight terror, I realised they sounded like hushed whispers and muffled moans. Glancing towards Yeri’s room, the door had been left slightly ajar, and despite dread filling my stomach, I found myself walking towards it, eyebrows furrowed once I picked up on a foreign citrusy scent. That, however, was the least of my worries as Yunho’s intoxicating sandalwood and vanilla scent carried through the air in intense pumps, twisting something in my lower stomach, and making my mouth go dry. It was so intoxicating that I found myself creeping towards the door, my breath baited and my hands slightly trembling as my wolf whined at me to barge inside and let Yunho have us, ravish us. But the small crack left by the door being ajar was enough for me to see inside the dim room, making my heart drop in seconds. The girl Yunho had been hanging out with all night was on her knees in front of Yunho as he sat on the edge of the bed, leaning back on his hands as his mouth hung open, eyebrows furrowed, and eyes squeezed shut as low moans left his swollen lips. I couldn’t pry my eyes away from Yunho’s face despite the sudden urge to cry as my wolf howled loudly, making my blood boil now that I knew for sure others could have Yunho like this. At a particularly high-pitched moan, Yunho’s eyes snapped open and found mine through the crack of the door, making me gasp loudly as I jumped back, feeling disgusted and full of rage at the same time. It wasn’t fair of Yunho to constantly push me away, whether he knew I was his mate or not, and it wasn’t fair that he could easily mess around with others while I was forced to suffer and watch him from afar. I didn’t stall any longer, I was out of the house before I could hear more of the sounds they were making, Yunho’s strong scent burning my throat even the next morning.

The Spring Break passed by in a frenzy, and I had barely gotten any rest while I was home for the week. Every invite to the Songs I had turned down, disgusted at the thought of facing Yunho after everything. I didn’t want to see him, I didn’t want to hear him, I didn’t want to smell him. I had made up my mind. If he didn’t want me, I wouldn’t want him either anymore. I have yearned enough after someone I’d never have, so, I decided what’s enough is enough. I knew the change wouldn’t happen overnight, especially when my wolf snarled at me anytime I pushed the thought of Yunho away, whining loudly whenever he came up in a conversation. My wolf wasn’t happy with my decision, but I was the one in control, and I was done being hurt all the time. I missed the serenity I once had before meeting Yunho and the rest of the Songs, but if finally living the life my parents had always wished for came with the price of finding an unrequited mate, then I could live with that for now. Perhaps if I went far enough from here then the bond would somehow finally completely break. I could only hope that was the case and I wouldn’t get somehow incurably sick, I’ve heard of it happening before, and it scared me.

Today had been a long day, I felt tired and my back muscles were aching from having been sitting all day long, my brain sore from having been paying close attention in my classes. My notebooks were filled with notes, there was not a second to rest now that we were back at the Academy. San and I had wandered on our own paths sometime during the afternoon, his classes different from mine, besides, I knew he liked working out before going for his run, where he’d most probably be joined by Wooyoung. He had texted me asking whether I wanted to join the two of them, but I had politely declined. San knew I liked being on my own, so he never pushed me if I wasn’t feeling up to it. I always enjoyed my runs more on the Academy grounds than back at home, because here the forest was large and I rarely ran into other wolves while being out there. At home, the boundaries were clearly fenced in, to keep us from wandering too far into the Haunted Woods and getting lost. Other creatures than us, more ferocious ones, lurked deep in the forest, and some of us from Nocturnal Parade had never returned once they ventured too far in.

I knew I couldn’t go back to the shed, especially not now, out of fear of running into Yunho. And as if the Universe was laughing at me today, the way my wolf started purring before the scent even hit my nose should’ve been a clear sign to turn around and go the other way towards the campus, on the backroads where not many liked walking. It was a good spot for the Fae to hide away and drink in nature’s powers, so most of us kept clear of it to offer them privacy. I knew they wouldn’t mind if I stumbled upon them, and I’d rather face their wrath than run into Yunho right now. As I rounded the corner, I stopped walking just in time to avoid crashing into Yunho’s larger body. He gasped and pressed a hand against his chest, gulping almost too loudly. I didn’t look at him as I averted my eyes, nor said anything despite my wolf trying to nudge me towards Yunho. I just tried to step around him and hurry towards the entrance. However, something very unexpected happened. Yunho’s low voice sounded unsure, almost, a little breathy as well.

“Are you headed for a run right now?” My body froze upon hearing Yunho’s question, and I tried to fight every particle of my body from stepping closer to him when his sandalwood scent called out to me. It was deeper, more earthy than ever before, and my wolf was purring so loudly it echoed in my ears as if it were real.

“Yes.” My answer was short, but before I could leave, Yunho followed up with another question.

“May I join you?” He sounded more confident this time, I could feel his eyes on me as my eyebrows furrowed.

What? I gulped, trying to keep my heartbeat even as his question echoed in my mind. Why now? Why did he want to join me on my run all of a sudden? Why was he even talking to me? Why was he acknowledging me? Without even realising it, I had started fiddling with the wolf charm of my bracelet, finding courage as I raised my head and looked into his chocolate brown eyes.

“No.” Yunho’s face became blank as he gulped again, his left eye slightly twitching, “I don’t like going on runs with others.”

Yunho was silent for another second as I raised my eyebrow at him, challengingly. What did he want? His tongue poked the inside of his cheek as he huffed, a cynical smile crossing his features, “I see.”

I hummed, fingers tightening around the charm as I was displeased with his reaction, but I didn’t say anything as I nodded once, stepping around him this time to resume my walk. But, once again, Yunho spoke up before I could leave.

“Have you done the assignment? For our Literature class.” Just what was he on? My eyebrows furrowed again as I looked at him confused, Yunho slightly turned his body to face mine since I was standing next to him.

“Yes, we were supposed to hand it in before the Spring Break.” I knew my tone was sharp as I deadpanned, but I couldn’t help myself. Yunho had never spoken to me like this before, let alone asked about a run or an assignment. If he stumbled into me on accident, he wouldn’t even apologise, so this whole interaction was bizarre, “Why? Have you not done yours?”

“I have.” Yunho’s eyes narrowed then, slowly trailing down my body until it stopped on my wrist. I shivered and hid my arm behind my back as if I had done something I wasn’t allowed to, my wolf whispered at me that I was wearing something that hadn’t always belonged to me, “Are you—did Mingi give you something of his?”

Once again, what? I huffed, closing my eyes for a second as I could feel irritation seep through my body. It wasn’t just my scent souring, Yunho’s sandalwood got replaced by the vanilla, which didn’t smell as sweet as usual, “No, why would he?”

But Yunho didn’t answer as his jaw tightened, his eyes switching between mine before they fell back down to my wrist as if he were trying to see through the sleeve of my jacket. His long hair was tousled, almost as if he had been running his fingers through it too often, and his cheeks were covered in a coral blush and littered with fake freckles. His nails were painted yellow this time and they matched the neon yellow of his bomber jacket, which seemed to hide a purple mesh shirt underneath. A blue tie hung loosely around his neck, and his jeans had daisies stamped on his thighs. He looked amazing, even if peculiar, he made my wolf purr in a dreamy way that had me move slightly towards him, hoping that he hadn’t noticed since he was still busy staring at my wrist, which I was still hiding behind my back.

“Are you lying to me right now?” Yunho’s tone had turned a tad bit aggressive, and suddenly, I found him all up in my face, closing the distance between us with an alarming speed. My heart skipped a beat and my wolf leered at Yunho’s actions, whispering sweet nothings into my ear, distracting me for a second from Yunho’s sudden, and unwarranted, fury.

“What is your problem, Yunho?” Despite craving to touch him and nuzzle into the crook of his neck, I pushed through the sudden lustful haze and made my anger apparent. That seemed to catch Yunho off guard as his expression fell a bit, his eyebrows furrowing as he gulped, opening his mouth before he closed it again, seemingly not knowing how to answer my question. I scoffed, gave him a fierce glare, and ignored my wolf’s whimpers when I stepped back. Then I turned around to storm towards the exit. Where was all that audacity coming from?!

It was a warm spring day, the sun had finally melted the last remnants of frostbite and dew, yet most students were cooped up in the Study Hall or Library, busy catching up with the projects and assignments they had procrastinated on so far. Perhaps going to the Library would’ve been a smarter choice since the cacophony of the grand room distracted me more than once from my coursework. Midterms were right around the corner and everyone was squeezing in study time even on the weekends, determined to memorise as much material as possible. Thankfully, I wasn’t behind in any of my classes but I still had to finish my Alchemy assignment, which was proving to be a headache. San was busy reading through his Anatomy notes and scribbling down even more information in his notebook as four different books were opened and strewn around him on the table. The sight made me chuckle, but I didn’t bother San as I knew he’d get anxious if he wasn’t able to finish checking all the materials he had proposed for himself to go over that day. He was quite literally a prodigy, yet he strived for even more perfection. I knew his whole future depended on his grades, but San was too smart for his own good…academically, at least.

As I jotted down another sentence about my failed experiment just from last night, Yeri’s chewing gum snapped loudly, making San flinch. He was so focused he didn’t even look up, but his eyebrows slightly furrowed. I peeked at Yeri from above my laptop and raised an eyebrow at her when I realised, she had been staring at me already. She sighed as she placed her chin in her palm, grimacing as the chewing gum had stuck to the corner of her lips. I chuckled as she quickly got rid of it, and cleared her throat.

“Do you think you’ll pass your Alchemy class this semester?” Yeri’s tone was deadpan, and it almost made me laugh. Maybe I should’ve gone to the Library where we weren’t allowed to speak much to each other, maybe then Yeri would’ve spared me from her brutally honest questions.

“I sure hope so,” I muttered as I searched for the right formula on the internet, which was much faster than flipping through old pages of books, trying to find the answer for my magick elixir.

“Will you have to retake your class if you fail?” Yeri pressed, genuinely interested all of a sudden.

“No, it would be the first time I failed this class, I’d just retake the final exam,” I explained as San hummed next to me, highlighting something with green in the book he had borrowed from the Library. I was sure he’d get a good scrutinising from the librarian for that.

“How many passes do I get before they fail me? Like the exams and shit.”

“Which class are you failing, Yeri?” San spoke up with an amused tone as he sneaked a glance at her. I chuckled as I found the formula, then copied it into my notebook before putting it into my slideshow.

“Don’t tell my brothers,” Yeri lowered her voice as she leaned over the table to be closer to San and me, “But I might be failing Literature this year.”

“Literature of all subjects?” San started laughing, prompting me to giggle as well. It was one of our easiest classes, trust Yeri to fail it. It seemed like the Songs were easily tricked by the easiest of tasks, Wooyoung was another prime example of that. He failed his Sports class last year, which should’ve physically been impossible for a werewolf…even all of the vampires had passed it.

“Stop making fun of me,” Yeri pouted as she leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest, “Not everyone likes to read—I certainly don’t.”

“Well, you should from now on, or you’ll have to retake the whole class next year.” Yeri’s eyes widened at my inoffensive threat.

“Whatever,” She grumbled under her breath as her ears perked up, eyes looking around the room. San’s body seemed to tense too for a second before he relaxed, his ears tinged slightly red, “Don’t wait for me to come back to our room tonight.”

“Where are you going?” I felt like an older sister worrying about their younger sibling as my eyebrows furrowed. Yeri just rolled her eyes with a loud huff, eyes fixed on something behind me as she started smiling.

“I’m sleeping in Seungwannie’s room tonight.” I could hear footsteps approaching us rapidly.

“What about her roommate?” I asked as a familiar citrusy scent caught my attention, I didn’t have to turn around to know who was coming.

“She’ll be fine, we like her.” I chuckled as Yeri winked, and then her eyes settled on San, or rather who stood now next to him. Before any of us could react, Wooyoung leaned down and pressed a fat kiss against San’s cheek, unleashing a heavy thundering of heartbeats. I ignored San’s heartbeats as I smiled at Wooyoung, who looked embarrassed by his actions, but he was grinning sheepishly as he lowered his head.

“Hi!” He greeted us as San finally snapped out of his frozen state, giving Wooyoung a genuinely wide smile.

“Hello, Woo,” I said as the younger pulled out a chair and sat in it, dismissing Yeri when she stuck her tongue out at her brother. Wooyoung rested his chin in his palm, head tilted as he looked at San.

“Are you still studying?” Wooyoung’s tone was impatient as San’s sigh was exasperated. I chuckled under my breath and went back to my slide show, looking over it for the nth time, “I’m so bored, San, you promised to come back to my room with me and entertain me.”

“Oh, did you now, San?” Yeri grinned mischievously as she giggled, making Wooyoung’s eyes widen as he shot her an alarmed look. I watched the exchange wordlessly as San’s ears flushed a darker shade while he tried to make his body look even smaller as his wide shoulders hunched forward, “Does that form of entertainment involve—”

“Song Yeri.” Mingi’s tone was authoritative as Yeri’s eyes widened, lips pressing into a straight line. How have I missed them approaching? Yunho was directly looking at me, his soft and chocolate brown eyes drilling into my forehead as I quickly looked away, once again busy with my PowerPoint presentation, “Leave your brother and San alone, must you always be such a menace?”

“If they are idiots…” Yeri grumbled under her breath, and I watched curiously as both San and Wooyoung looked away, blushing and their hearts skipping a beat. I suppose it won’t take them much longer to finally come to terms that they like each other, Wooyoung’s been rather reactive lately around San, it was certainly fun to watch. What wasn’t fun at all, however, was Yunho’s unrelenting stare and his scrunched nose as he sniffed at the air.

“Hello, Y/N.” I didn’t expect the vampire girl to speak to me, she even had a smile on her face as my round eyes fell on her. It was a small smile, but it was there. I watched the people around us turn around surprised as they looked between me and the Petrova girl. I smiled and waved at her, the small wolf charm swishing around on my wrist. I didn’t miss Yunho’s eyes instantly falling onto it, nor the vampire girl’s satisfied smirk when Yeri scowled at her, “Are these rascals bothering you?”

“Oh, not at all.” I chuckled, looking at San and Wooyoung as Yeri scoffed, but everyone just ignored her.

“Well, if you ever get bored of them, you can always join me and my friends.” The vampire girl’s eyes fell pointedly on Yeri and Wooyoung as Mingi’s grip tightened on her waist, “I know some creatures forget they cohabit a place with others whom they are constantly bothering and irritating.”

“Oh, shove something up your—”

“Alright!” Mingi chuckled, jumping in to de-escalate the situation, as always, “Before this turns into another argument, my lovely girlfriend and I will be on our way.”

The Petrova girl winked at Yeri as she kissed Mingi’s cheek, and then the two turned and were off to a table where three creatures sat, all smiling at them except for one. She had long black hair, bangs that fell into her eyes, and a fierce glare as she stared at Yunho, then at me once she realised, I was looking at her.

“Won’t you sit?” Wooyoung gestured towards the empty seat next to Yeri, and that seemed to snap Yunho out of whatever train of thought he seemed to be lost in. I chanced a glance at him before I went back to check for typos in my presentation, trying to ignore Yunho’s vanilla scent spiking all of a sudden, so sweet it almost made me gasp. The last time it had been that sweet was when I caught him and that girl at the bonfire enjoying each other. I gulped and willed my wolf to remain silent as suddenly it took me everything to remain seated and not throw myself at Yunho, God, I so desperately wished to touch him and inhale him whole, but once again I had to remind myself that I had made a choice. No more Yunho, no more yearning, it was over. I deserved better, I could do better than this.

“No, see you around.” Yunho’s voice was strained as he quickly walked off, sitting alone at a large and almost empty table.

“That was strange,” Wooyoung mumbled as Yeri hummed, turning around to stare at her brother with a frown.

“He’s been acting strange ever since Y/N came to town,” I froze as Yeri faced me again, lips pursed, “Not that I’m blaming you for my brother’s behaviour, I just don’t understand what’s up with him. His scent gets stronger around you and he’s always moodier and snappier after he sees you, did you do something to him?”

I scoffed, rolling my eyes too as I closed my laptop, “Right, as if your brother had given me the chance to do something to him.”

Before anyone could question me, I stood and stormed towards the large bookcases lined closely to the exit, my muscles tense. Now that I had decided that I wanted nothing more to do with Yunho, my wolf had turned even more stubborn than it had been. I wanted to consume him, I wanted him to touch me and feel me up, it felt like I couldn’t think or breathe in his presence. And when he wasn’t around, my wolf whined and cried, begging me to find him and make him want us. But my will was stronger and I was determined to stay away even if it became harder and harder daily to go against my wolf. I wondered if Yunho felt the same way, if the thoughts of me were eating him up alive, if he was desperate to have me, if his wolf whined at him just like mine did. I sighed and closed my eyes, trying to ground myself into the present and push away all thoughts of the mate who didn’t want me back. I would’ve been struggling more half a year ago, but now it was second nature yearning after Yunho one second, then blocking him out the next one.

I still needed one more book for my presentation, the one that I could document myself from more in-depth as to why my experiment had failed…and I also shouldn’t forget to cut the sound for the recording since Yeri is giggling and making fun of me in the background for almost ruining my desk. My fingers traced the sturdy shelf of the bookcase as I craned my neck back, reading the titles of the books, wondering whether I was in the right section. I was tall, but these bookcases were over two meters, so I might need a ladder if I find my book and it’s way too high up on the shelf. As I scanned the next aisle, I grinned in triumph when I read the title of the book I was searching for, Do’s and Don’ts in Elixir Making, Alchemy, Level: kindergarten, by A. Turner. I chuckled under my breath at the blatant jab before I pushed myself up on my tiptoes, reaching forward and finding stability in the bookshelf when a sudden invasive warmth burned my nape, the scent of sandalwood forcing my eyes shut as I took a deep breath, my wolf purring when the sweet vanilla seemed to linger in my throat and oesophagus even after exhaling.

“Is this the one you were looking for?” Yunho’s voice was low, too close to my ear, and I couldn’t stop my heart from jolting in both fright and excitement. I whirled around, which was a mistake. There was barely any distance between our bodies as Yunho held the book in his big hand, long fingers curling around its old spine, his eyes soft, but his expression hardened. I gulped since my mouth felt dry, but the words didn’t come to me as Yunho and I stood staring at each other. His grip tightened around the book and I finally looked at it, nodding hesitantly. He hummed and handed it over, our fingers brushing in the process and making my body lurch forward. Yunho’s eyes widened, and I wondered if he had felt it too. The electricity, the low humming, the sudden tremble of my body at the fleeting touch, the depravation and desperation that was suddenly flowing through my veins, so close to claiming him as mine.

“Yes.” My voice was steady despite my hammering heart, and the sweat that coated my brows. I cradled the book against my chest as if I was trying to protect myself from Yunho, protect my heart and mind too. But Yunho didn’t look like he was about to move away, and I was too scared of making any moves, knowing that my legs would carry me straight in his arms, shamelessly at that. I couldn’t let that happen, it would’ve been humiliating. Yunho’s lips parted as his eyebrows furrowed, long strands falling into his eyes, and he swiftly ran a hand through his hair as my eyes followed the motion. I gulped, wishing to do the same, but then Yunho exhaled and I felt my body lean towards him again, vanilla so sweet my mind was clouded with want.

“Mingi’s girlfriend told me she had given you the sparse bracelet she and Dahyun had made.” I hadn’t expected that, so I was curious where Yunho was going with this, “She reeks of Mingi, so it’s no surprise your bracelet also reeks of Mingi.”

My eyebrows furrowed as I raised my hand, staring at it incredulously. Does it? I hadn’t even noticed, how come? After all, Mingi’s scent had never been as invasive and constant as Yunho’s. Bringing my wrist closer to my nose, I sniffed at it for a second, eyebrows furrowing when I noticed the faint hint of the earthy and cinnamon scent that was Mingi. It was barely even there, I wondered why Yunho was so sensitive towards it.

“Oh, well, I can faintly smell it now that you’ve pointed it out,” I muttered with a shrug as I lowered my arm, looking at Yunho with a questioning gaze. He bit his bottom lip and my eyes stayed there, wondering what the pink plush flesh would feel like underneath my teeth, whether Yunho would whine or growl if I were to sink my fangs into it and nip at the sensitive lip. But before my face could flush at the vivid image created in my mind, Yunho cleared his throat and took a small step towards me, making me press myself up against the bookcase. My body felt alive, my heart was racing, and my ears were ringing. I felt like I could do anything with Yunho around, as if I was untouchable.

“Listen,” Yunho seemed to hesitate for a second before his eyes glazed over with conviction, his scent so overbearing that for a second it was all I could focus on, and his racing heart, “I had never meant to assume things about you, nor insinuate anything, but I realise my words had come off wrong more than once. I was harsh when I didn’t mean to be, and I know you think I’m a dick. Frankly, you have all the right to think that about me, I hadn’t been the nicest to you until now.”

I wanted to ask why now, what had changed that he was finally acknowledging me, what was spurring him on to even talk to me like this, because it sounded like he was about to apologise and I hated how my heart was beating harder, making my wolf was howl in happiness, ready to accept Yunho’s apology even if he didn’t say the words. I remained silent as Yunho licked his pouty lips, and my eyes seemed to remain on them even as he continued to speak, “Do you—do you believe in soulmates?”

I couldn’t help but give Yunho an amused look, quirking an eyebrow, “We’re literally werewolves who imprint on each other and have lifelong mates, do you believe in soulmates?”

Yunho froze, a little taken aback that I had answered his question with a question, “What about mates? Do you believe in mates, then?”

It seemed like neither one of us wanted to answer questions right now, but I sighed as I gave Yunho a resigned look, “I do, I believe in mates.”

“Since when?” Yunho’s tone was turning slightly desperate as he kept pressing on, and I cleared my throat, averting my eyes for a bit.

“Since I was little, but I suppose I started firmly believing that mates do exist after I came here.” Maybe if I didn’t say it too directly, he’d still understand what I was trying to hint at.

“Yeah?” Yunho’s tone was faint, his face suddenly softening as he exhaled quietly.

“What about you? I don’t think I’ve seen you settle with anyone for a longer period since I came here.” Yunho’s jaw clenched as I looked back into his eyes, tilting my head as my eyes narrowed at him.

“The concept of mates was silly to me…” Yunho’s tone was hard as he took a step back, making my wolf whine in protest, but I remained silent and ignored the sudden coldness that plunged through my body, “Until you came to Nocturnal Parade.”

My whole body went cold upon hearing his words, and my eyes widened as Yunho’s admission echoed in my ears. Did that mean he knew we were mates? Could that mean that Yunho was aware that we were fated, but he was ignoring it on purpose? That was utterly more painful than being in a one-sided mated situation, because it meant he was purposefully rejecting me. My eyebrows furrowed as Yunho’s expression was blank once again, his eyes hardening the longer I stared at him in silence.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

I felt like I couldn’t breathe, so many questions whirling in my head, making me question every little interaction that we’ve had in the past year, even more so the recent ones. Why would he ignore me? Was I not good enough? Was I not pretty to him? Was I not appealing to his wolf? Why did Yunho hate me so much that he ignored the fact that we were mates for a whole year, making it so hard for me to be in his vicinity? I blinked, suddenly aware that I had tears in my eyes, even my wolf was whining at the realisation. Yunho didn’t say anything as he watched my shocked expression morph into something of sadness mixed with anger, and then I squared my shoulders and glared at him. I didn’t say anything as I pressed the book against his chest to push him back, trying to keep it together in front of him despite wanting to scream at him, demand answers, and throw all the books from the shelves at him. Yunho looked taken off guard as I pushed him back by his chest, his gasp loud as I ripped the book away from his chest and stormed back to the table I shared with San and the Song siblings, my blood fuming and my thoughts running a mile per hour. Yunho was horrible and he didn’t deserve me, even if we were mates. As I loudly and aggressively sat back down in my chair, heads turned to look at me curiously, but nobody bothered me when San shook his head once he noticed Wooyoung open his mouth to drill me with questions.

There was one insistent pair of eyes, however, that didn’t look away even after I had given them a death glare, and it was the creature who was sitting with Mingi and the Petrova girl. Her eyes tracked Yunho as he hurriedly gathered his things from the table and left the hall, a scowl settling on her face before she was watching me again. I opened my book and opted to ignore her, I didn’t have time for all this drama, I had to finish an assignment and study for the midterms as well.

The next day wasn’t much different, except that there were barely any empty seats to find in both the Library and the Study Hall. After San and I had squeezed ourselves in between a Fae and a Druid, we spent four hours in the Library, our backs aching by the time we headed for lunch. My brain felt numb and my eyes ached from dehydration, and if I thought San would stop his revision while we enjoyed our meal, I was wrong. He was reciting a whole paragraph as he mumbled to himself over a mouthful of vegetable soup, scooping up the baby carrots into his spoon and placing them in my bowl absentmindedly. I smiled at his antics and found myself feeling fond of San and our friendship. Even though I have been here for a year and three months now, I got to experience so many new things and emotions. It was as if I was born for the first time, eager to experience our world through new lenses. If I thought back to my whole life spent in the big city, I couldn’t help but feel sad over how much I had missed out on. The community, however, in Nocturnal Parade had a way of filling in the gaps, and the absence of fond and good memories in a way that tricked my brain into believing that I was always part of this town, of this community, of this pack. It was exhilarating, and for the first time in months, I found myself craving partnership.

So, when San finally started complaining about physically being unable to revise and learn anymore, his muscles crying out for a good stretch, I proposed we go on a run together. It took San only a few seconds to realise what I saying, and then he sprung up from his seat with newfound energy, packing all of his belongings in mere minutes. I giggled as I followed suit, my backpack almost falling from my hands when San grabbed my biceps and hurled me after himself with little care that I was struggling to keep my feet from tangling together as we basically ran out of the Library. I ended up giggling as San faced me with sparkling eyes, his mouth wide but curling into a dimpled smile.

“I’ve been waiting for this day since forever!” San exclaimed as we hurried down the hallway for no reason, but San’s excitement was so palpable that I could almost touch it. It would be the second time I’d join San on his run, so I understood why this felt like a life-changing event to him. I chuckled and linked our arms together to try and slow San down, calm him down a little bit, “Which deity must I thank that you chose me as your companion for a run?”

I rolled my eyes and turned my head to watch San as I released his arm to let him hop down the stairs, “It’s warm outside and I can’t study anymore, I feel tired. I thought you also needed a second away from it all.”

“I sure do,” San muttered under his breath as he waited at the foot of the stairs for me to reach him, “All this studying just for me to not know which major I actually want, we’re four months away from graduating from the Academy, Y/N.”

I hummed and linked our arms together again as I veered us towards the backroads leading to campus, “I know, but you’ve got this San. Whether you choose Medical Engineering or Medicine and Pharmacy, you’ll do well, I just know it.”

“I want to do so much, but I feel like we have so little time,” San mumbled, his lips downturned as we left the building.

“We might not be vampires, but we certainly have more than enough time to live a lifetime full of completing our wishes and wants, don’t you think?” I tried to cheer my best friend up as I nudged his shoulder, but San just sighed long and stopped walking. His scent suddenly soured, and I frowned as he shuffled on his feet, keeping his eyes on the ground.

“I’m just…” He sighed and I hummed, spurring him on to continue, “What if Wooyoung doesn’t like me the way I like him?”

That was a tough question, I would hate myself if I answered it the wrong way and only saddened San more. I gulped and grabbed his shoulders, shaking him lightly, “San, do you not see the way Wooyoung just gravitates towards you? His eyes glimmer when he looks at you, he’s always smiling and laughing in your presence, and he’s always whiney when you don’t pay attention to him. He searches for you in every room, and he’s always talking about you, somehow roping you up into a conversation that has nothing to do with you. I know baring our feelings is scary, but what if…what if Wooyoung likes you the way you like him, and you’re just both wasting time? And if he somehow isn’t into you, it’s Wooyoung, you know nothing will change. He’ll treat you the same way, San. You might be heartbroken but life goes on, and you’ll find someone who is…not Wooyoung.”

“Wow,” San chuckled, biting his bottom lip to stop himself from laughing, “You really were doing so well until you brought up Wooyoung not being into me.”

“I’m sorry!” I exclaimed, feeling bad only for a second as San started laughing. I huffed as he threw an arm over my shoulders and pulled me into his side, a light flush settling over his cheeks. He was still smiling and his scent had evened out, so I knew he wasn’t upset anymore. Maybe my speech was good, after all, even if I ruined it by insinuating Wooyoung might not be into San.

“You’re right, Y/N,” San and I started walking again, “I won’t waste any more time. I’ll tell him before the next full moon.”

My eyes widened as I looked at San’s side profile, “That’s in five days.”

“I know.” San and I shared a look before I hummed, grabbing him around the hips to give him a reassuring squeeze. He smiled in contentment as we wobbled our way through the grass-covered path, thankful that we didn’t come across any Fae that was drinking up the warm sun rays as they lay in the grass.

And, well, that’s how I ended up on a run not just with San, but Wooyoung also. It didn’t bother me, it turned out that Wooyoung was a lot more coordinated and serious when in wolf form than he was in his human shape. His wolf wasn’t too large, but it had great stamina as it ran ahead of San and me, its fur a mixture of black and white, reminding me of his brothers, who both had beautiful fur and majestic builds. At first glance, it seemed as if Wooyoung was aimlessly leading us around the forest, but I was proven wrong when we arrived at a small waterfall, of which I had no idea it even existed. My wolf purred as it shook its fur, looking around with sharp eyes, making me chuckle inside my head when I noticed San headed towards Wooyoung, rubbing their muzzles together. My wolf howled, making me feel embarrassed when both San and Wooyoung looked my way, the amused glint in Wooyoung’s wolf eyes unmistakable even like this. When I was in my wolf form, it was hard to control its reactions, so I was forced to wallow in the embarrassment of the jealousy my wolf felt over what San and Wooyoung had. Even to my wolf, it was obvious that the two’s bond ran deep, that there was something they wouldn’t be able to deny for much longer.

As if San’s wolf had sensed my shift in mood, he approached with strong footsteps, rising a little taller than my own wolf. He was nowhere near as large as Yunho or Mingi, but the wolf was still big and menacing looking. The darkness of its eyes was intimidating to anyone who didn’t know it was San. The sourness of my scent, however, disappeared the second San affectionately brushed its body against mine, huffing under his breath as our heads bumped together in an acknowledging way. It was sweet, it tempered my wolf’s antics if only for a second as we heard the bushes rustling, the steps sounding closer and closer. My skin twitched as I bared my fangs for any unwelcome predator, but even my wolf was shocked to see a black and white wolf emerge from behind a large boulder. It was hard to think straight when your wolf was in control of your body and mind, and I had to pull every part of my mind together to stop my wolf from pouncing on Yunho the second they made eye contact. Something deep rumbled out of the black wolf’s throat as Wooyoung skipped over gleefully, its mouth opened as it made a funny sound.

Mingi imitated the sound as they bopped their noses together, a rumble leaving San’s throat as he stood next to me, protectively, as he watched Yunho’s wolf. A very quiet whine managed to somehow slip past my clenched jaw still when Yunho and Wooyoung acknowledged each other, and the second I realised my wolf would actually throw itself at Yunho, I somehow gathered enough mental strength to force myself to jump away from the group, a loud howl leaving my throat. I knew everyone was watching me, but I was panting and my wolf was purring, I knew I had to leave before I created an even bigger scene. So, when I took off, hopeful that the others would let me be, my wolf almost leered at me when Yunho’s vanilla scent permeated every part of my being, its burning gaze on my body making me choke up as I could see the big, black, wolf chase after me. Everyone else wasn’t far behind, but Yunho seemed to run faster than any of them, forcing me to push myself as my paws hit the forest ground harshly, my lungs heaving for air as we waved through the trees, racing through the forest.

Yunho’s loud puffs of air would’ve covered my skin in goosebumps, a constant reminder of just how close he was to me, to catching me. Because it felt like a chase, as if I was running away from a dangerous predator, and would end up dead, my windpipe crushed between its malicious fangs. My heart raced in my chest and my lungs burned from the lack of air, but my wolf wasn’t tired yet. In fact, it was elated that Yunho was relentlessly chasing, loud huffs and growls leaving its mouth anytime he thought he had finally caught up to us, only to realise my wolf was just tricking him and would speed up once again. My wolf was thrilled as it howled loudly, it would’ve sounded like laughter if I was in my human form, and then it took a sharp left cut as we jumped over numerous fallen logs. My skin was on fire as adrenaline coursed through my body at an alarming state, and I couldn’t remember a time when I had been so in touch with my wolf and the nature that surrounded us. I couldn’t lie, I was excited as well as I listened closely to Yunho’s heavy breaths, still hot on our trail even though he couldn’t quite catch up with us.

I couldn’t tell whether the others were still after us because Yunho’s scent was so intense that it was the only thing my wolf could smell and focus on, but I hoped the others would forgive me for my sudden departure once I had apologised to them. I just hoped San wouldn’t worry about me, but then again, it’s not like I couldn’t take care of myself, and right now it didn’t feel like I was in danger despite Yunho breathing down our neck. Before I could question where my wolf was taking us, the trees became less dense and the soil a little muddier, and I realised we were headed towards the shed. I suppose my muscles had eased up enough for me to end my run, but I wouldn’t want to come to the shed since this isn’t where I had left my clothes, I felt confusion spike through my senses, but my wolf was quick to completely push it down. My bones started aching as I gasped loudly for air, the shed now in eyesight as I realised my wolf was forcing me to shift. I didn’t want to be naked out in the wild, but I couldn’t stop the transformation if my wolf forced it upon me. I groaned when my bones snapped into place, the burgundy fur slowly disappearing as I was forced up onto my legs, my claws slowly retracting into normal nails as my jaw snapped into place, a little sore from the sudden action.

I could feel my hair brush just above my shoulders and I gasped as I tumbled forward into the shed’s door, my feet aching and numb from having pushed myself too hard in the chase. My body felt on fire as my heart raced loudly in my chest, the adrenaline making me more alert than normal as I hurried inside the shed, trying to shift back so that I wouldn’t have to walk to campus naked, but my wolf was opposed to the idea. Before I could wonder why, all my questions were answered. The shed’s door slammed shut loudly behind me and I jumped, whirling around in panic as Yunho’s tall form stood looming in the doorway. There was something different about him right now, about the air between us. It was tense, I felt like I couldn’t breathe in the dim lighting of the shed, and I gulped as I took in Yunho’s appearance. His long brown hair was all over the place, falling into his dark eyes, which lacked their warmth. They were narrowed into slits as he was panting through his mouth, his cheeks tinged a deep red, the flush continuing down to his chest. His fangs hadn’t retracted yet, though, and they were poking past his pink bottom lip. Yunho’s nose was scrunched up as he leered at me, and I gulped nervously, all of a sudden too aware of my nakedness as I tried to shield my exposed private parts with my hand and arm.

Something prompted Yunho to suddenly push forward, consequently making me backtrack until I collided with the old wooden table, making my heart race even faster as Yunho slowly stalked towards me, his eyes an intense orchid colour. I felt shy all of a sudden as if we hadn’t already seen each other naked, but my wolf purred at me and forced my hands away from my body as I felt frozen in place, big eyes looking up at Yunho once he stood too close, too easy to reach. His heart was pounding just as hard as mine as his chest fell and rose rapidly, and my eyes fluttered shut when his vanilla scent made my head swim. It felt as if I was underwater, trying to grip onto my last string of sanity as Yunho growled, hot fingers digging into my hip. My eyes flew open, widening as I looked down at Yunho’s hand holding me, leaving crescent moons as his chapped yellow nails dug into my warm skin. He stepped even closer, caging me in, and making me look up at him as I felt hazy. My wolf was whispering at me to spread my legs just a little further and let him nestle in between them. I wanted Yunho like nothing else before.

“Y/N.” Yunho’s voice was the lowest I have ever heard it be. His eyes seemed to be unfocused as he grabbed me with both hands now, slowly tracing my sides as if he were memorising my body. I had to bite my bottom lip to stop any sounds from escaping, and in a moment of weakness, I allowed my wolf to do to its liking as I raised my right hand, fingers almost hesitantly touching Yunho’s left peck. He shivered as his jaw tightened, stepping even closer until our bodies were touching. It was too much to feel all of him against my skin, his body burning mine up in a way I thought wasn’t possible. My breath stuttered in my throat when Yunho’s fingers ghosted over my breasts, mine travelling lower on his torso until they were massaging circles right above his happy trail, making him growl, “I can’t do it anymore.”

It was hard to speak, but I needed to understand what he meant. I swallowed around nothing, letting my head fall back as Yunho’s pupils dilated upon seeing my exposed neck, “What—what do you mean?”

Without realising, my hands were tracing his lower back, slipping lower and lower until they hovered right above his ass cheeks, hesitant to touch until Yunho roughly grabbed my left breast, rutting against my thigh. I keened, pressing him closer as my fingers dug into his naked flesh, my skin practically singing as he tilted my head even further back with his free hand, his index finger pressing against my bottom lip insistently. I couldn’t breathe as the wooden edge of the table dug into my back, but I didn’t care as my body experienced things it never had before. It was exhilarating, but also scary that I had given in so quickly. I knew it was mostly my wolf doing this, but I couldn’t find my grip. I actually didn’t want to, so I let my wolf take the lead for once when it came to Yunho. It’s what we’ve wanted for a year, after all, to feel him all over us, close to us, in us.

“You’re so alluring,” Yunho whispered as his head lowered, his hot lips pressing against my cheek as I flushed a darker red, “Maddening to the point I can’t sleep at night, Y/N. I want to devour you whole, take you as you are. I need you.”

I whimpered as Yunho and I made eye contact, his hand which was holding my breast now sneaking to my lower back as he made me arch into him, my lower stomach coiling at how easy it would be to just let him take whatever he needed. And I wanted it too, my wolf was desperate for it, so I leaned up until our lips were brushing together, my own orchid eyes reflected in his.

“Why now?” I whispered, watching as Yunho gulped, lips parting as if he was trying to inhale my very breath, “Why do you want me now?”

I gasped when Yunho suddenly hoisted me up, my legs crushing his hips as I latched onto him, my eyes shaking slightly as he nipped at my jawline, his fangs dangerous but not there to harm, “It’s not just now, I always want you. Even when I’m sleeping, you’re in my every dream.”

My eyes fluttered close as Yunho kissed behind my ear, making me sigh in pleasure as he trailed more kisses on my neck until he was dangerously close to my scent gland, “But you’ve always ignored me, I thought you didn’t like me.”

Yunho growled as he nipped at my skin, making me lick my lips as we came eye to eye once again. I wanted to kiss him breathless, but he was talking before I could do so, “I don’t like you, I’m obsessed with you. I want you to be mine, forever. I had known you belonged to me the second I first saw you.”

My wolf purred and I moaned as he pressed open-mouthed kisses against my neck, up to my jawline until our cheeks were pressed together, and he was nuzzling his nose into it, his sandalwood scent rubbing deeply into my skin. Our noses bumped together and my wolf was leering, so happy that we were in Yunho’s arms, so lenient to let him mark us, mate us. And just like that, my heartbeat stuttered and my eyebrows furrowed, somehow my mind clearing through the lustful fog that was clouding it, “Since the second you first saw me?”

“Yes,” Yunho muttered lowly, kissing my cheek before he looked into my eyes, “I had smelled you before I had even seen you, I thought I was going crazy, turns out I wasn’t. I had just found my mate.”

Before my wolf could let me gloss over this new piece of information, I pressed, “So you knew all this time that we were mates? That I was fated to be with you?”

“Yes, Y/N, I knew.” The grin on Yunho’s face was anything but pleasant as my heart dropped all the way to my stomach. He knew all this time and he left me in the dark to suffer alone, cry myself to sleep thinking I wasn’t good enough, that even my own mate didn’t want anything to do with me. I had thought all this time that I was too weird, too much, too shy to be fated with someone like Yunho, I had thought it was a cruel joke made by the Universe to laugh at me, I couldn’t have a peaceful and perfect life even if we left the city. I had been suffering for the past year and all this time Yunho knew, and yet, he did it on purpose. He didn’t care for me, he didn’t think for a second what this did to my mental health and image of myself. He was my mate, yet instead of protecting me, making me happy, and keeping me safe, he pushed me towards my darkest times where I felt like I wasn’t even real, that I didn’t matter to anyone, that I’d never be enough.

“Put me down.” My tone was just as shaky as my whole mental state right now, crumbling faster than my wolf could grasp the situation and try to silence me again. Yunho’s eyes widened slightly, then his eyebrows furrowed, and instead of doing what I asked, he only held me tighter, “Yunho, put me down right now.”

“Y/N, I don’t—listen, we can discuss this. I messed up, if you listen to the whole—”

“If you don’t put me down right now, Yunho, you’ll never see me again.” My wolf was whining as Yunho’s expression crumbled into hurt and panic, his chest falling and rising rapidly as I could hear his heart race for different reasons now. But I wouldn’t let this go his way, I couldn’t just gloss over this and act as if I hadn’t been miserable since the moment I met him. It hurt too much, even my wolf was finally realising what was happening, that he had actively refused his mate for whatever reason I wasn’t curious to know. And even though I could see it in Yunho’s eyes, the need to go against my demand and keep me here, very slowly, he started to move, letting one leg down at a time. My feet were cold as they touched the shed’s flooring, and I gulped as Yunho still hounded me into the table. I tried to keep the tears out of my eyes as I gulped, taking a shaky breath. Then, I pushed him back since he wasn’t moving away, and closed my eyes as I felt my bones shift around without me having to force my wolf to cooperate. So much for running with your pack.

The tables have somehow turned. It wasn’t me yearning after Yunho anymore, it was him yearning after me now. He was everywhere I went, albeit the Academy’s grounds weren’t as humongous as a town’s grounds, but he was everywhere. I couldn’t enjoy my meals anymore, I couldn’t study in the Library or the Study Hall, I couldn’t sit out in the Flower Fields on a blanket reading, and I couldn’t even go on runs at a reasonable hour because Yunho was always there. It was slightly frightening and disarming, but my wolf was elated. She was practically mewling at all times, baring her neck in Yunho’s direction anytime she could. Good thing my will was stronger than hers. It was peculiar to see how good I was at actually dismissing Yunho’s whole existence, giving him a taste of his own medicine. I didn’t find joy in ignoring him, but I was mad and hurt. I wouldn’t allow him to just crawl back into my life as if nothing had happened, as if he hadn’t known all this time that we were mates. Only a week had passed since our encounter on the run and the whole thing that went down in the shed, and I was positive Yunho was close to losing his mind.

I had felt like that for a good two months, but I took it a lot better than he was right now. He looked like he hadn’t slept for two days at least, with dark bags under his eyes and his hair all wavy and in a man-bun since it looked unwashed. His nails lacked their usual vibrant colour and his outfits seemed less crazy, as if he wasn’t putting much thought into them anymore, just wearing whatever was at hand. Yesterday, he had even worn one of Mingi’s black hoodies, a colour unseen on Yunho previously. It was jarring, I couldn’t lie, but I wasn’t going to give in to him just because he was moping about me keeping my distance from him. It wasn’t even that deep, I hadn’t even rejected him like he had done with me, I just needed time to sort out my feelings and thoughts, but I suppose Yunho didn’t know that and assumed things were over between us. As if there had been anything, to begin with. Yeri, who had no issues rooming with me but didn’t usually hang out much with me otherwise, was now suspiciously all up in my business every damn day, resulting in Yunho tagging along. I knew the Song siblings were close, but I hadn’t seen Yunho and Yeri spend more than one hour together at the Academy, so they weren’t slick with it when Yunho followed after Yeri, and subsequently me, all day like a kicked puppy.

But if it wasn’t Yeri, then it was Dahyun, who had never spoken to me more than five words at once, but was now eager to get to know me, complimenting me about my rusty coloured hair and forcing me to do beaded bracelets with her in the Study Hall while Yunho sat a few seats away from us, staring at me without even blinking. Their antics had gotten old and irritating quite quickly, but the last nail had been today during lunch. I sat with San and Wooyoung, who were disgustingly sweet now that they had finally sorted out their relationship. They weren’t dating, but they were certainly something more than friends, and they seemed fine with that, so, who was I to judge them? Our lunch was full of chatter as Wooyoung cackled at every small thing, animatedly retelling a time when San had tried to sneak into his room, only to slip down the roof and fall face-first into the mud. He had broken two teeth and had almost fractured his cheekbone if it wasn’t for our magical werewolf healing. My appetite had even returned as my wolf was finally done acting as if it was the end of the world, however, when Yunho’s oppressing sandalwood scent wafted through the air, it felt like my whole day was ruined.

Mingi and his girlfriend joined our table with quiet greetings as they sat, Yunho hot in tow as his eyes burned into the side of my head. I have had enough, but before I could excuse myself, Wooyoung was already talking to Yunho. The vampire girl gave me an understanding look before she sat back, pushing around the vegetables until Mingi noticed and took them from her. I watched their interactions while paying attention to Wooyoung, who had slightly settled down when San squeezed his thigh. But Yunho was still staring, breathing shallowly, his bottom lip jutting out almost pitifully. I wanted to yell at him that this was his fault and that I was sick of everything, but I kept my composure until I couldn’t anymore. A scoff made us all look up, and I realised it was the same creature from the Library, part of Petrova’s friend group.

“Look at you,” She sneered at Yunho malevolently, her lips curling into a wicked smirk, “You thought you had found another bitch just to get kicked to the curb by her, didn’t you? How pitiful.”

Before I could stop myself, I pushed my chair back and looked at the creature with a glare, “Who are you calling a bitch?”

I hadn’t intended to growl, but my wolf was just as triggered as me, and we really didn’t want to be provoked today. I wasn’t confrontational, but I was beyond stressed by the midterms, and now Yunho’s behaviour too.

Before this whole ordeal could escalate into something else, the Petrova girl scoffed, rolling her eyes, “Really, Seulgi? I thought we agreed you’d finally let it go.”

Seulgi, Yunho’s ex-girlfriend I realised, bared her fangs at the other vampire, “Just because you suck your werewolf boyfriend’s dick, you shouldn’t look down on your kin. Or did you forget who you are and where you come from?”

I hadn’t seen anyone get angry as fast as the Petrova girl, her whole face going red, but before the two vampires could turn this into something physical, Mingi stood and faced Seulgi, “I would appreciate it if you stopped harassing my girlfriend, your own friend, Seulgi. Last time I checked, you and Yunho broke up because you cheated on him. What’s your fucking problem, huh? Do you want me to rip you apart? I would love to sink my fangs into—”

“Mingi.” His girlfriend looked sick as she gripped his hand tightly, shaking her head at him. Mingi took a sharp breath and looked at her with a guilty expression before he faced Seulgi again, who looked to be fuming. I exhaled, then grabbed my backpack and tapped San’s shoulder.

“I’m not hungry anymore, see you later.” Before San could ask where I was going, I was basically running out of the canteen, desperate to get away from everyone. The other students were staring at us curiously, and I hated it. I was tired and irritated, I just wanted to be alone and away from anything that was connected to Yunho. I knew I’d have to face him and have a conversation with him sooner or later, but maybe I’d first make him suffer for his choices for another few months. Maybe until we graduate.

My footsteps echoed down the corridor as I decided to head back to my dorm and take a nap, I still had some time until my Calculus class. However, footsteps followed mine hurriedly, and judging based on the absence of an overbearing scent, I guessed it was a vampire that was trailing me. Maybe it was the Petrova girl, I actually hoped it was her since I didn’t really want to speak to anyone who couldn’t take a hint. She was rather good at reading the room, over the past week we’ve hung out more, and I got to know her a bit better. She was anything like Yeri had made her sound, and I was just glad to have a friend who was a female and my age. I was snapped out of my thoughts when I felt sharp nails digging through my sleeve and into my skin, making my wolf growl as I turned around with a sharp glare. It was Yunho’s ex, the black-haired girl, Seulgi.

“What do you want?” I snapped, my eyebrows furrowing when she didn’t let go of my arm. She looked me up and down with a grimace, scoffing under her breath.

“Are you Yunho’s new bitch?” My jaw tensed and my wolf growled, but Seulgi continued before I could speak, “Have you fucked already? Did he tell you that you are the love of his life only to cheat on you with a fucking dog the next day?”

So, she was associating werewolves with dogs now, huh? I couldn’t have disliked her more than I already did, but I gulped down the nasty names I could’ve called her, and opted to be the adult in this damn conversation, “Even if my answers to your questions were all yes, how is that your concern? Aren’t you just his ex?”

“I might be his ex,” Seulgi snickered, stepping closer, “But I know him better than anyone else—”

“I highly doubt that’s true since he has a twin brother, but sure, whatever you say, darling.” I cut her off, my tone turning cold as something like jealousy gripped my heart. My wolf was far from exhilarated to know that Seulgi and Yunho shared a past, but everyone had a life before they met their mates, no? I couldn’t flip out over something like this.

“Listen here, bitch,” Seulgi hissed, stepping so close I could smell her breath. It reeked of blood and menthol, “I’m just here to warn you, but since you want to get smart with me, I might as well give you a piece of my mind. You are nothing to—”

“Kang Seulgi.” Yunho’s sharp and dark tone made me shiver and Seulgi’s eyes widened. I hadn’t even heard him approach, too focused on Seulgi and my own anger. His scent was strong, the sandalwood making it hard to breathe as it spiked sourly, “Haven’t I told you countless times to leave alone anyone that comes in contact with me?”

“Are you scared I’ll let them know who you really are? This bitch isn’t even into you, I can—”

“You can’t do nothing, shut the fuck up, you know nothing.” Yunho sneered as he stopped next to me, a few good heads taller than Seulgi as he loomed over her. She didn’t look intimidated or scared as she grinned widely, almost insane looking. She tilted her head, her eyes slipping between the two of us.

“You think just because you scent this bitch others won’t touch—” I flinched when Yunho suddenly grabbed her by the throat, yanking her towards himself. Even Seulgi seemed shocked, her eyes turning wide as she gripped Yunho’s wrist in fear.

“If you call her a bitch one more time, Seulgi, I swear to fucking God, I will murder you right here and right now.” Yunho’s growl was guttural, I knew his wolf was talking rather than him, but Seulgi didn’t seem to realise that as she started shaking like a leaf. She gasped, her eyes flickering to me before she tried to smooth out her face and look friendlier.

“Is she—Yunho, it hurts.” She whined, lower lip trembling as Yunho’s nails grew sharper and dug more into her neck. I stepped up, knowing that Yunho wasn’t completely himself.

“Let her go, Yunho, you’re hurting her.” My tone was harsh, and I gripped his lower arm to squeeze it painfully. Yunho huffed and let go of Seulgi, who I grabbed before she could stumble over her own feet.

“Are you alright?” I asked quietly as she started to hyperventilate, her eyes filled with tears.

“Are you mates?” Her voice was quiet as she looked back at Yunho, leaving me speechless. I opened my mouth to deny it, but no words came out.

“Yes.” It was Yunho who answered, firm and loud, I could feel him step closer as his warmth mingled with mine. Seulgi gulped, then looked at him before at me, brushing my touch off her.

“I’m sorry.” Then she turned and hurried off before we could stop her, her sobs quite loud as they echoed down the corridors. I gulped, feeling a lump in my throat as Yunho was still behind me, hovering over me as if I would run away if he didn’t.

Even I had a breaking point, so I gave in, “What do you want—”

“Forgive me, for everything.” Yunho was speaking before I could even finish my sentence as he came around me, and gripped my cheeks, taking me off guard, “I don’t demand you do it right away, I know you must be very angry with me right now, but please, listen to me before you say anything. I didn’t believe in mates because my parents aren’t true mates. My father’s mate died when they were children and my mother denied her real mate to be with my father, so I decided to take matters into my own hands and not wait for love to find me. I—I also might’ve been selfish and a jackass for not wanting to settle down just yet, that is mainly the reason I’ve tried to ignore our bond this whole time.

“It’s so shitty of me and I’m so ashamed of myself, but I was scared that you might not want me back, that I might be in a one-sided situationship. My parents had always told us that we have the right to deny whoever the Universe destined us with and find our own person, but they were wrong, they—they don’t know what the pull of a true mate feels like. When Mingi and Petrova started going out, I was so angry, I felt so abandoned. Mingi and I had promised we would never imprint on anyone, but he broke his promise when he imprinted on Petrova. I was so dumb to be mad at him, and I was even more dumb to try and deny what we two have. I realised I was jealous of Mingi at some point because I thought I’d never have what he has, and then you showed up and I—I didn’t know what to do, how to navigate all these new emotions. I also had a girlfriend at the time and I seriously thought we’d work out, but…you were all I could think about and want. In fact, I don’t want anyone else but you, Y/N. I’m just—I’m asking you to give me a chance. Just one chance.”

I gulped, overwhelmed by Yunho’s confession and his proximity altogether as my wolf purred, prompting me to nuzzle my cheek into Yunho’s palm, inhale his scent deeply as my nose brushed against his hot wrist, “One chance?”

Yunho’s heart skipped a beat as vanilla wrapped around us, his eyes regaining that pretty spark in them, “Yes, just one chance, I beg. I’ll prove myself to you, I’ll treat you right, and I’ll love you unconditionally. I want to make up for the lost time, may I—can you let me? I’ll do whatever you ask of me.”

I licked my lips and watched as Yunho’s mouth parted, inhaling through his lips as his heart started racing. His ears were flushed and I smiled, a little amused, as I raised my left hand and cupped his cheek, making his eyes widen. But he didn’t stay frozen, he let his right hand fall from my cheek as he pressed his palm over my hand to keep it firmly pressing into his cheek, “I won’t forgive you overnight, I hope you’re aware of that. You made me really suffer, Yunho, it was so painful at some points, I thought the broken bond would kill me.”

“I’m sorry,” Yunho whispered sorrowfully as he leaned forward to press his forehead against mine, and I sighed, closing my eyes. For a second, it felt as if it were just the two of us in the world, our scents mixed and creating a safe cocoon that couldn’t be broken unless we wanted it to. I felt my heart beat in a new rhythm, one that was stronger and more frantic somehow. I realised it was Yunho’s heartbeat I was feeling, and not my own, it made me wonder whether he could feel mine too.

“I haven’t felt this complete my whole life,” Yunho whispered in a shaky tone and I gulped, angling my head so that our noses would brush together. Yunho’s sharp exhale fanned over my face and I smiled, listening to the whisper of my wolf. She was right, I finally had him, and I didn’t have to withhold anymore. Even if with baby steps, we could work this out, I could forgive him if he proves himself to be a respectable and trustworthy werewolf. So, I tilted my head away, hearing Yunho’s breath catch as if he was panicking until my lips were pressing against his pink ones. They were warm, just like I had fantasized they would be, and they tasted like strawberries. I almost giggled, but I was too focused on the feeling that spread through my body, stealing my breath away even if it was just an innocent and fleeting peck to Yunho’s lips. My body tingled, and it felt like I saw the world for the first time when my eyes fluttered open, Yunho was already staring at me deeply. His cheeks were flushed dark, his fake blush all but disappearing under his real blush, and he was smiling so widely his cheeks must’ve hurt once we pulled away. I chuckled and shook my head, gently placing my arms around his neck as he hugged me close to himself.

“This isn’t me forgiving you, by the way, my wolf is just too desperate at this point for me to fight against her,” I muttered and Yunho laughed, his eyes creasing as he threw his head back, the sound of his joy music to my ears. I couldn’t help but grin widely and tighten my arms around him, wondering how I had gotten so lucky to have him of all werewolves as my mate.

“Mine too, are you busy right now?” The mischievous glint in Yunho’s eyes told me whatever we were about to do would define how we’d move forward with our relationship.

“Not really, why?”

“Mingi won’t be back until late evening, the dorm is all mine,” Yunho whispered, biting his bottom lip as his pupils dilated, eyes slowly trailing down my body as if I was already naked.

“Good, because I forbid Yeri from bringing back boys to our dorm, I can’t go around breaking my own rule.” I wriggled my eyebrows at Yunho, making him laugh as his hands slowly slipped lower on my torso, feeling me all up. It made me feel hot all over, my wolf purring loudly as I fought the urge to tilt my head back and bare my neck at Yunho.

“Oh, the horror on her face if she’d see her brother under your sheets.” Yunho made a mocking sound as he pressed a hand against his mouth, my eyes lingered on his long fingers. I’m sure he noticed because he suddenly smirked, then swiftly pecked my lips before he detached himself from me, intertwining our fingers as he eagerly led the way towards our side of campus, “Let’s stop wasting time.”

I hummed, feeling my chest all warm from Yunho’s warmth, my cheeks flushed and my heart racing in my chest. All this time I thought my mate would never want me back, yet here we were now, headed to explore what the future held for us. My wolf and I couldn’t have been happier.

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corollaservant · 7 months ago

Text

Night in the Net // Shigaraki x f! reader (18+)

Synopsis: You find yourself stranded in one hell of a sexist environment: the small town's internet café. Shigaraki's on the night shift. (3.6k)

Warnings: sex with Shiggy basically, mild degradation and misogyny from our fav incel, dom!Shiggy with a twist (no quirk obviously), use of “dollface” (i like it)

A/N: No dark themes here, peace n luv. Also.. yeah he is always linked to some gaming/electronic business ik!! but I like the trope/hc/almost canon.

You'd never imagine this was how your night would end.

Why are you there again? Right, your friends wanted to go to that after party, as if the club wasn't enough. What was supposed to be a night out ended up with you in the local internet café (the only after hours spot) while your friends decided to go to a house party with loud techno music, which definitely wasn’t your vibe. You and your friends lived close and would often call a taxi on your way home, money wasn’t enough for you to ride solo today though—you prayed in times like these that you at least had a job; you wouldn’t have to rely on anyone then.

You knew pretty much everyone there, it’s not like the town had more than ten thousand residents and considering the age group and schools you’d all gone to, the internet café only had a few unknown members. On today’s shift was none other than Tomura of course, that guy was taking up as many shifts as his body would allow him to, apparently there was this rumor a family member was in crucial condition and they were in need. Tomura Shigaraki was one of these people you had branded as incel. Though hardworking (he kept a house of his own, cleaning and doing all chores by himself while providing for whomever he had), you still considered the guy as one. Now—you know the term is heavy, matter of fact, quite offending and serious as an allegation but it’s not like there weren’t rumors. Rumors he’d bash women and call them prostitutes, try to sleep with girls and trash them to his friends a day later, hating them for anything they did and claiming true love didn’t exist nowadays because “all women are sluts, who need money and validation.” Plus, he worked at the local internet café (should be enough reason), engaging in heated conversations with his friends and fellow streamers. God, one look in their chats and you'd get as violent as possible— (not much, you'd discovered it the hard way). Thus, it was no surprise that when you enter the place, you hear whispers and scoffs.

‘’The hell are you doing here?’’ A voice was heard from within, the café had the computer screens up front, a bar and a couch with TV in the back. Tomura was occupied in the designated bar the place had (you often wondered what kind of needs these people had—all they ever consumed was energy drinks and pre-packaged meals, takeouts were for reasons of competitive market prohibited).

‘’Just dropping by for a couple of hours, will leave soon.’’ You sigh as you take a seat on the couch, not bothering to talk to anyone, it wasn’t like they cared anyway. Loud noise and laughter can be heard all around, a couple of guys swearing and some younger boys excitedly standing above their screens. The store had a 16+ policy, but of course, no one ever checked so kids could practically stare unattended. Tomura also encouraged younger boys to play, such a piece of shit, you think, getting them to learn young.

‘’Oh my fucking God, a slut just joined!’’ You hear some guy swear, presumably because a girl joined their online server. These guys were so disgusting, you cringe, it was no wonder they were celibate without wanting it. You stand up, you need to kill some time and you're feeling bored, you think about starting a fight with Tomura, how else could you have a little bit of fun?

You weren’t ever necessarily afraid of the guy, even though you had to admit, he looked intimidating. Quite tall with a pale complexion, ashy, dull hair and scars across his face; no one actually knew much about him and whether he was troubled, it’s not like he ever showed to work beaten up or high and usually kept a low profile. The only frightening thing this man had was his smile, it terrified you sometimes as it looked downright evil.

‘’Getting them to learn young, huh?’’ You ask him, he’s washing up some cups from the previous round of gross gaming guys, who have now left.

‘’What?’’ He responds, not bothering to look up.

‘’How to not get women, I mean.’’ You sigh as he huffs in annoyance.

‘’You should be grateful I let a female in my store in the first place.’’ He retorts, but doesn’t seem very angry, just ironic. Usual.

My store (you decide to skip over 'female') sounds funny but you choose not to comment on it.

‘’So how long until you guys close?’’ You don't bother with the vocabulary—it’s routine at this point. It also never ends well and you had a great night so far, why ruin it now?

‘’Two hours.’’

‘’Mind if I sit on the couch? I’ll be quiet I promise’’ You ask—technically beg, as you see no other options.

‘’Ugh.. yeah I mind. There’s some guys wanting to use it, I have a group for GTA on the PS5.’’

‘’Seriously? People still play that?’’ You whine but force yourself to continue.

‘’Can I sit with you then?’’ It takes strength—but you say it regardless. You came to terms with the fact he was your last resort minutes ago.

‘’Sure. But you need to make yourself useful. Here, take this.’’ He hands you a wet sponge, ‘’Wash these up... carefully, while I go clean the floors.’’ He orders, as if you’re part of the staff (and new on the job apparently.)

‘’Do you actually want me to wash freaking dishes? I just came here to chill, I don’t even bother anyone!’’ You start feeling annoyed with the chores, you aren’t 16 and he isn’t your mom.

‘’You can always leave.’’ The running tap stops and he turns to you, practically shoving the wet gloves on your chest.

‘’Or...you can stop being a brat and be of use during your stay, I have two hours left.’’ He smiles, that same smile that makes your skin crawl and blood boil as he moves away.

‘’Fuck! My dress, you asshole!’’ A wet patch now covers the too short dress as you glance at the time on your phone.

Two hours. Two hours until your friends leave and he closes up anyway.

Tomura was at least true to his words. Within two insufferable hours of having to listen to appalling conversations between men (hardly to be considered as such), plate washing and the toilet being constantly occupied, the last customers get up to leave.

You dry your hands and plop down the couch exhausted.

‘’Finally.’’ You exhale checking your phone, your friends hadn’t given you any life signs in the meantime, so you decide to patiently wait, they’d message eventually. Tomura is done sweeping the nasty floors from crumbs and dried Monster remnants, which he still has to mop (for the fourth time, you note and you've only been there some hours). You notice how restless he seems—the guy has been running the whole night after ignorant customers, who had not once shown basic respect for the order of the place yet never complained. Truly a shame he has such a misogynistic mindset, you think. He could get women, if he wanted to.

It’s around 6:30 AM, when he presses a button to close the store's roll-up shutters halfway. Small light outside makes its way in but the place is still relatively dark, as he places the mop near the wall and takes a seat next to you.

‘’Fuuck, I’m so tired.’’ He sighs, making sure to spread his legs on the couch as much as he can, not caring (of course) about you also sitting on it.

You always branded Tomura as an incel, that you knew about. But despite that, you now can’t help but feel for him, not knowing much about him at the same time. Sure, he technically isn’t the nicest guy but a look around would show you that he tries enough for a job kicking his ass. You find yourself sympathizing with a man, whose ideals you hate and try to brush these thoughts off.

‘’And why the fuck am I an incel anyway?’’ He asks, his head rests on the couch and his eyes are closed, he is scrunching severely—almost threatening to fall down. And he manspreads. A lot.

‘’W-well– I..’’ You never thought he’d caught on to that, stammering to stand your ground as you continue. ‘’Well, there have been rumors about you.’’ You say, but it doesn’t come off as confident as you’d hoped for. You also realize, it sounds kind of stupid.

‘’Reaaally? And you made sure to believe them, right?’’ His tone’s laced with irony but the way he talks like he whispers in a raspy voice doesn't annoy you anymore. It makes you more... uncomfortable? On the edge? Excited?...what?

‘’It’s not like you don’t claim it yourself.’’ You retort, finally finding some courage. You notice him looking at you as you awkwardly shuffle in your seat.

‘’All I’ve ever said was that I think women are good for nothing. And I still believe that, but I wouldn’t waste more of my time on that.’’ The statement makes you roll your eyes.

‘’How can you generalize a whole group of people, who are literally in no way inferior to you, you can’t tell me you’ve tried—’’

‘’Listen dollface, unless you want to change my mind there’s no reason to fuss that much, my opinion won’t change.’’

Unless you want to change my mind?

‘’I-I don’t.’’ You stammer, because the answer and pet name (dollface??) takes you by surprise and he laughs.

‘’Relax, you branded me an incel.’’ He jokes, ‘’don’t want the rape allegations on me too.’’

The more he talks, the more your mind races and you curse yourself. He seems..funny? He has a mole under his lips—fuck, it looks cute...He also looks good so (stupid as it is, yes!) you silently want his attention. Why can’t he just look you in the eyes more?

This is so wrong. He must've noticed your lost gaze as he speaks up.

‘’Wanna watch a movie?’’ He proposes and you nod, anything is better than the silence hanging in the air. Silence you caused. For thinking... things about him.

Of course Tomura ends up choosing the most depressing film anyone can possibly watch in an internet café at 6 AM, Fallen Angels, and the dramatic cuts make it hard for you to concentrate. He at a certain point leans closer to you but you justify it, how else would he be able to see?

During this one scene, the woman pleasured herself with her legs closed, rubbing together and that’s when you feel a soft hand touch on your thigh. The dress you wore rode up, because your legs rested on the table ahead so it gave him the space he needed. The movement made you tingle and your core involuntarily contracted. The smooth fingers teasingly trailed up and down your leg, from your knees to your inner thighs. You didn’t want to look at him—he was too close and the scene seemed endless. But…he went on about it as if nothing was happening.

Without saying a word, he carried on. A pad of his finger tip dangerously close to your now heated entrance, the images flashing before your eyes lewd, his hand tempting and threatening to reach your already soaked cunt—all this while the two of you hadn’t even shared a kiss. But he doesn't stop, looking ahead and acting like everything’s fine, until he touches your lower lips and you hiss, his finger traces the wet spot over your underwear while you try to move and speak up.

‘’W–what are y—’’

‘’Shh..’’ is all he says.

You want to tell him no. But no to what? You like the feeling of his two fingers against your folds. His palm moves your panties to the side and he stuffs them inside—they dampen from the fluids. How is he that quick? You can’t form a response but you’re about to ask him why—

‘’All that and I haven’t even kissed you.’’ He murmurs, gaze still fixated on the television ahead as you moan, when he slowly pumps them within your walls. Fuck, are you turned on by this?

‘’P-please..’’ You whisper, turning to look at him and for the first time, his eyes are removed from the stupid TV, a sly smile on his features as he tears away his hand.

‘’What is it? Want the incel to kiss you? Maybe even fuck you to prove a point?’’ He says and you frown.

‘’I—no, I have to go.’’ You get up, fixing (lowering) your dress—you have nowhere to go but you’ll figure it out eventually. You think staying longer only plays into his cruel intentions and whilst you can’t deny the pleasure he could give you, your pride’s in the way.

‘’You’re not going anywhere.’’ A wet hand clasps around your wrist and brings you on his lap, as he grins; you seem confused at the sensation. You are hiding the TV screen but he couldn't care less, he never paid attention to the movie.

‘’Feel the stain you left, too?’’ He says as he brings your face closer with the sticky palm grabbing you by the hair. You softly moan, noticing the small mole up close and feeling a bulge poke where your bodies meet. You sway your hips in a silent effort to have him initiate a kiss, you feel desperate and curse yourself again internally. He can only smile.

(You were so clueless, walking around in that slutty dress earlier—making him hard like that, did you even know it?)

He’s quick to kiss you, eager for more already, as mouths clash, teeth collide, the need you both have exceeds proper manners. You sloppily grind against him, the friction from a long outline beneath you makes it hard to think.

‘’I’m guessing, you’re really fucking the incel then.’’ He half smirks as he grabs you and repositions you to sit on his now fully hard cock that throbs in his pants; he lifts your dress above your ass and guides your hips sluggishly back and forth—he’s tormenting you and he enjoys it to the fullest.

‘’T-tomura..p-please.’’ You whine, the urge to have him inside you makes you blabber.

‘’Please what?’’ He slides a hand behind your waist, lowering it to find your slit from behind, his fingers pet your cunt and you moan. Loudly. He is tugging at your panties, the fabric annoys him and he wants full access and the words. The words to prove his point.

‘’P–please...fuck me already!’’ You breathe out and he groans to the sound of your voice.

The ironic remark he prepared evaporates as he quickly pushes you back, just enough to not fall off his lap and quickly unzips his pants, thanking god for not wearing a belt.

His pants and underwear are sloppily moved down his knees, as his cock jumps with a pop on his lower abdomen, stiff with a weeping tip. Pretty veins throb around it as your eyes widen.

Shit, he’s big, can you take him?

‘’I’d ask for a nice blowjob, dollface, but wouldn’t want the feminists after me.’’ He says as he brings you close, kissing you yet again, a string of spit runs down your jaw, as your hands roam his tangled, uncombed hair.

He positions you on his cock, one hand snakes around your waist while the other one clings to the back of your scalp and you’re swiftly lifted by the head and pushed down on him, as you let out a scream.

‘’Shut the fuck up.’’ He hisses, quickly looking around, the sensation from almost his whole length makes you tremble, he feels too full, too painful...too good.

‘’Shit, c’mon now you got this.’’ He encourages as you hesitantly move up and down his cock, gripping his shoulders and looking at him; he seems more concentrated on the sensation than your body, staring at you while you wrap around his length.

‘’Fuck...dollface, this too much for ya?’’ He tries not to grunt and you give your best not to cry, each moment that goes by turning the initial pain to pleasure—your cunt adjusts slowly and bit by bit to his girth.

‘’T-tomura... y-yes..it’s too much!’’ You whine, sweat forms in your forehead as his hand finds your swollen clit and circles it while your nails dig deeper in his shirt.

‘’You can take it.’’ He says, he feels you squeezing him in, you bounce with dedication on his legs, making the couch squeak as if on some sex tape—you want to bring yourself even closer. So nasty, aren't you? Acting righteous, only to fuck yourself on his cock like a desperate whore.

‘’I-ugh-p-please..’’ You try to speak but he secures his hand around your torso and sinks (lower than before) down the couch. Two strong hands force you to stay still in the air while he drills himself into you at a steady pace, kind of sloppily too. Both of you moan, the position gives equal pleasure, your clit bumps on his groin and his cock reaches your g-spot with ease.

‘’S–Shit, you’re squeezing way too much, haven’t you been fucked like this before?’’ He sounds annoyed but the stammer in his voice betrays him.

Not like this, you want to say but can’t really speak the words. Your weight falls entirely on him, he doesn’t mind one bit—he loves it actually, this skin on skin contact as he guides you on his cock, it feels surreal. He hits soft and spongy spots inside while you slowly fall apart.

‘’T-Tomura right there..I ugh—I'm close!’’ The sensation overwhelms you, his eyes are still fixated on your face, yeah I can tell, he thinks. He gets off on your desperation, mouth parted all for him? Your eyes threaten to spill by the way he tears apart your cunt and morals bit by bit.. it’s–

‘’Tomura, aren't you closing yet?’’ Someone asks from outside, interrupting the moment. The shutters only reveal a pair of shoes.

‘’Yeah, I’m on it.’’ Shigaraki stops composed, cockwarming you in a funny way, while a hand, his hand covers your mouth. Your eyes widen as slick trickles down his thighs in silence.

‘’Alright, see you then.’’ The man leaves and he cusses him out. (''Cunt.'')

‘’We’re not done.’’ He turns his attention back to you and seizes your face, bringing your mouth closer.

‘’Open up.’’ He orders and you do, clenching around him in anticipation.

He spits in it and closes the gap with his index finger.

‘’Swallow or I won’t continue.’’ You quickly gulp down.

‘’So obedient all of a sudden, aren't you?’’ Sarcasm evident as he gives your ass a solid hit, before starting to get back on his pace, only more rough this time, he longs for your release on him. You’re moving up and down his length, trying to grab anything accessible really, his hair, the back of the couch, under his shirt and you feel your orgasm resurface stronger; the delay highlighted all of your senses.

‘’T-Tomura—’’ You shudder, as his cock hits your g-spot expertly–fuck, this guy wasn't some incel–and your swollen clit has to brush one last time past his groin before you feel an overwhelming orgasm take over. You clamp down his length and moan embarrassingly (Fuck Tomura! I–I'm...too good!) This time he lets you, he needs to hear this.

‘’Fuuck—agh, look at you dollface.’’ He hums, a feminist creaming herself on my cock, he wants to add but it’s too many words and you just came so he wastes no time. He brings your neck close to his mouth and bites on it, teeth sink into your flesh and hands force you all the way down. His cum spills inside and he groans, trying to stifle his moans by biting down the sensitive skin even harder.

And fuck if that isn’t hot.

He keeps you on him, arms fasten around your waist with cum dripping onto his lowered pants but neither of you bother to care; ragged breaths and the sounds of the film still playing are audible as more light enters through the rolled shutters.

God must’ve been on your side that day because a message appears on your screen moments after you both wordlessly got up and cleaned yourselves in the bathroom. Tomura would have to clean again, you think, as the message on your phone signals your time to leave.

You turn to look at him, he has removed his shirt and small nail scratches decorate his pale back and you..smile. What the hell? Was this..? Oh no—You try to find an appropriate goodbye.

See you soon? Thanks for the mind blowing dick? You aren’t the incel I thought you were? Everything seems embarrassing at present time.

‘’I-I’ll be seeing you soon.’’ You opt for that, stupid as it is, you still look at him in anticipation. He turns to you, hands on the mop cleaning near the couch and nods.

Great, you think, that was a disaster. You defeatedly walk (actually stoop to get past the almost closed door) feeling like a hooker after a client, miserable and kind of used. This is always the worst part.

You feel an arm touch your shoulder, you’ve only taken a few steps in the daylight.

‘’Take this in case you revoke your incel statement.’’

Tomura hands you a piece of paper and quickly disappears behind the store’s shadows.

#shigaraki x reader #shigaraki tomura #shigaraki x you #shigaraki smut #shigaraki tomura x reader #mha x reader #tenko x reader #shigaraki tomura smut #tomura x reader #tw degradation

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gotham-daydreams · 1 year ago

Text

Not Here

[Yandere! Platonic! Neglectful Batfam × Gender Neutral! Sibling Reader]

[Warnings: Mentions of neglect, Mild Yandere Behavior, Batfam being hella stupid.]

(Not really proofread. The birds and bats seeing that y'know- maybe not paying attention to people and neglecting them isn't a good thing. Chaos ensues. More of a development thing. Might be a little ooc?)

Tags: @bigcandlesmolbrain

Chapter 2 of this post. Chapter 3 Pt. 1, Pt. 2. [Series Masterlist]

๑۩۞۩๑—————————————————————๑۩۞۩๑

Bruce liked to think he was a good father, for anything that was worth. Or at the very least, a decent one.

He wasn't perfect by any means, but he felt like he raised his children the best he could, and had made them into responsible and diligent adults. Dick was a great example of this, and even if Damian was still growing up, Bruce had hope that he'd turn out to be good as well. The hardships his current Robin had to face would pay off in the end, Bruce was almost too sure of that.

Those he decided to take under his wing had their flaws, yes, but even if he didn't say it out loud or point it out often. He did believe that they were good at what they do, or at least were on the right path to becoming good vigilantes. Bruce couldn't help but be proud and prideful of where his children and sidekicks were, and could only look forward to how they would continue to develop as time went on. Despite their feelings towards him, and his own faults, mistakes, paranoia, and so on. Along with how he felt about them, and their flaws — he couldn't help but respect the people those in his little mess of a family where becoming, and turning out to be.

Or maybe he was both overestimating and underestimating himself, and the true effects he had on those he decided to look after.

Since, for a few days now, he felt like something was... off.

The Manor seemed quieter these days, and even if he couldn't remember a time where it was particularly loud, the detail felt misplaced to him. Sure, he hasn't hosted a gala or party in a while, but that didn't feel like it was the reason why the silence suddenly bothered him.

Bruce tried to think of all possible reasons, a little surprised himself that this feeling of his was bothering him so much, but the more he thought about it the more confused he became. There didn't seem to be a particular reason for this... and yet, just as he was about to put this feeling aside, he heard it.

["I, um, I was just wondering..."]

["Oh, uhh, that's quite alright! Oh, one moment please... oh! Second chorus... T'was brilling, and the slithy toves, did gyre and gimble in the wade..."]

It sounded like some sort of... play? Bruce wasn't too sure, but still decided to check it out regardless, wondering why something like that was playing in the first place.

So, allowing the sounds of the play to guide him, he continued on.

["Why- why you're a cat!"]

The voices grew louder as Bruce drew closer, interest peaked as he tried to recall and see of he knew this play. The lines sounding familiar, now that he was really listening to them.

["A Cheshire Cat. All mimsy were the borogoves..."]

Once Bruce rounded the corner he saw a... familiar face on the screen.

A student play was being filmed, and the play itself was Alice in Wonderland.

Whereas Bruce didn't recognize the actor for Alice, he did recognize the actor for the Cheshire Cat, but couldn't quite put his finger on it...

Was... was that...?

"Y/n?" He whispered your name, voice barely above a whisper.

No, it couldn't be. You didn't participate in any plays, and surely if you did he would've known about it. Even then, that didn't explain why he was seeing this now. The play itself had to have been a recording, since you looked so young...

How long ago did this take place?

["Oh, wait! Don't go, please!"]

["Very well. Third chorus..."]

["Oh no, no, no... thank you, but- but I just wanted to ask you which way I ought to go."]

["Well, that depends on where you want to get to."]

["Oh, it really doesn't matter... as long as I g-"]

["Then it really doesn't matter which way you go! Ah-hmm.... and the momeraths outgrabe..."]

Bruce was staring so intensely at the screen that he hardly noticed how the lines and voices faded into the background. His focus centered on you, disbelief gnawing at the back of his head.

He had never seen you smile like that before, not during all the times he's seen you anyway. Even if those moments themselves were small and short from what he could remember, the smile you wore during your performance felt... new in a way. Like something he hadn't seen before — not on your face anyway. Though that wasn't the only thing that made Bruce feel weird as he watched the play.

It wasn't anything to do with your acting skills. They were fine for the most part — and honestly considering the age you probably were during the time of the play, they might've been above average, or even a little higher than that. Not even the girl who played Alice, who also did relatively well, was the source of this odd feeling.

It wasn't the costumes or the set up, or even the lighting, and how he could faintly see the silhouette of other actors and such just behind the curtain, because of the camera angle. No, it hardly had anything to do with anything like that, but, how should he put this...

... How come he didn't know about this? How come he wasn't aware of this play before? Let alone that they had a recording of it, and that you were even a part of it... but Bruce still felt bothered by this whole realization because, well.

Why didn't you tell him about this?

"Master Bruce?"

The sudden voice snapped Bruce out of whatever trance he was stuck in, as he whipped his head around to face the source of it.

He huffed softly, "Oh, hey Alfred." Bruce greeted calmly, acting as if the butler hadn't caught him off guard.

Alred couldn't help but raise a brow at that.

Almost in a silent, embarrassed way, Bruce glanced off to the side only to notice that the recording was still playing, and so he decided to ask about it. Since, if someone knew anything about anyone in this Manor, it would be Alfred.

"Say... what's this playing on the TV?"

"It's a recording of one of Master Y/n's plays, Master Bruce." Alfred answered simply, almost as if it was common knowledge. "Apologies if it's too loud, I decided to play it while cleaning. I can change it or turn it down if you'd like."

"No, no it's fine... but since when has Y/n acted in plays? I don't remember hearing about this." Bruce stated, confusion growing as another emotion began to swell in his chest. One he was all too familiar with, but ignored for the moment.

"Since middle school, if I recall correctly, but it was only while they were younger. Having only been in three school plays in total, I believe." Alfred moved closer to Bruce as he looked at the screen, eyes softening for a moment as he watched you move along the stage. You had grown up so much since then, and the stage fright you used to have felt like nothing more but a faint memory now.

You wouldn't believe how incredibly proud of you he is.

"It's a shame they didn't do any more afterwards, since it would've been nice to have a few more recordings of their performances, but I suppose that's what happens when you find a new passion." He looked back at Bruce. That previous softness in his gaze nowhere to be found.

There was a certain way how his eyes looked at the billionaire, as if expecting something. As if expecting this.

Alfred had higher hopes, but you had left for a reason. Even if he knew what that reason was, it was only now did he see it more clearly. Especially as he witnessed Bruce's face shift into one of shock and surprise.

"They've always told you, Master Bruce, but you're schedule has just always been too full." Alfred handed Bruce a piece of paper, and Bruce took it wordlessly, looking it over.

It was a flyer promoting a play — the Alice in Wonderland play that was still going in the background — with the dates and times listed below, along with some of the cast members. Your name stuck out like a sour thumb compared to the rest.

Bruce did remember seeing this before, but one thing did still confuse him as he looked back at Alfred.

"I'm pretty sure you gave this to me at the time, not Y/n."

"That I did, sir, but that was only because Master Y/n was having some trouble with catching you attention, because they had wanted to give you the flyer themself. So I offered to give it to you for them." Alfred replied truthfully, cleaning up a little more while he was at it, and leaving Bruce to his thoughts for the moment.

He didn't remember you trying to catch his attention... but if what Alfred says is true then that makes sense, even if it made Bruce feel bad in a way. The feeling growing a little more when he realized something Alfred had said.

"And this happened all three times?"

"You sound surprised, Master Bruce."

Bruce ran a hand through his hair, eyes pinned on the flyer as he pressed his pursed into a thin line. Countless thoughts floated around in his head, all of them jumbled up and messy as he just didn't know what to make of this. Missing one was probably fine, and maybe two at a push, but all three? How could he have missed every single one?

Sure he was busy, but he didn't think it was this bad. Did he just forget? How did he not notice such a thing had slipped right past him?

All Bruce could do was sigh. There was nothing he could do about it now, and even if there was a way to make it up to you, he didn't know where to start, or if that would change anything to begin with. Besides, he didn't even know how long it's been since these performances had happened.

...

Wait a minute-

"Alfred, how long ago was this?"

Alfred just looked at Bruce, brows just barely creased before he took a breath of his own.

"A few years ago, sir."

What?

At the look of disbelief on Bruce's face, Alfred could only stand and straighten himself out as he calmly asked, "How old do you think Master Y/n is, sir?"

"Oh, well, they're..."

... Bruce couldn't even think of an answer.

Obviously you had to be in highschool since it had been years since you've performed in a play, with the Alice in Wonderland play being one of them, but how old were you exactly? What year were you in? Were you a sophomore? Junior? Surely you weren't a freshman, but even then — what high school did you even go to? Bruce didn't think you were home schooled, or else he'd definitely notice that... or would he?

Oh no.

What if you already graduated? What if you already had gone and done something that not even Alfred knew about? Did you have a job? Where would you even work? Were you already in college? What college would you even go to? Did you manage to get a scholarship? What would be you major? Where would you be studying? Would you even stay in Gotham? Were you even old enough to be out on your own? Could you even drink yet? Could you drive? Did you own a car? Or even a motor bike? When was your birthday? Did it already pass? What's the month? The day? The year?

How old are you?

"I... I think I'm going to go and just check up on them." Bruce couldn't answer, and while he had a vauge idea. That's all it was, an idea. So he moved the subject along, and made his way up the stairs, leaving Alfred behind. Just watching as the world's greatest detective left the room, all because he couldn't figure out the age of one of his own kids. One he had chosen to take in and watch over like all the rest, and yet left behind all the same in the process.

Alfred could only sigh to himself as he paused the recording of the play. Ejecting the disc and putting it in its respective case, and placing it in its usual spot.

This was the only way, he decided. This was the only way.

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

Bruce didn't feel much better by the time he reached your room. It took him mistakenly stumbling into two guest rooms before he finally reached it, and honestly he felt more regret over that alone.

Most of this time he hardly remembered that the room before him now was even occupied, let alone that you had claimed it as yours. What didn't help was that it was only now that he remembered introducing this space as your own, and yet he had forgotten that small detail so quickly.

Regardless, Bruce just pushed that all to the side as he knocked on the door, taking in a breath.

"Y/n?" He called out, only to get no respose. So he tried knocking again, but he still got nothing.

Sure, he was getting a little confused, but just pushed that to the side with everything else, as he stared down at the door knob.

... Should he?

He had to talk with you eventually, especially considering what he just figured out and how little he actually knew about you. He needed to talk with you. He couldn't just let this slide, not with what he knew now. He couldn't. He wouldn't.

So, be tried the knob, and was kind of surprised that it was unlocked. Though besides that little strange detail, he gently pushed the door open, and took a peak inside.

Oh. You weren't even here...

Bruce didn't know how to feel about that.

Regardless of that, however, he opened up the door a little wider, and stepped inside. What he saw only made him more confused, but also feel so much worse when he looked all over the room. How could this be...?

Various things were on your desk, shelves, and hung on the walls. Your room looked surprisingly clean, but honestly Bruce doesn't know what he was expecting. After all, he didn't even know your exact age or hardly anything about you, and even then — by the looks of things, he had missed out on so much more than he originally thought.

Trophies, awards, medals, and certificates were littered about your room. The very sight of them made the paper in Bruce's hands feel so much heavier, and yet he still held onto it as he further inspected the awards, and few pictures hung on your walls.

Every color was here, from bronze to silver to gold, and at some point it seemed you were able to get a consistent amount of silvers and gold. The awards themselves were from various events and activities that barely corresponded with each other. From fencing to swimming, and dance to pottery. From track and field to literacy, and gymnastics to cooking.

It was like you had tried to do so much of everything, and were trying to collect all of these awards from all of these different activities, rather than earn them because you deserved it for all your hard work and dedication to do that particular activity, but Bruce just couldn't understand why. Why go through all of the effort just to move on to the next thing? It... didn't make sense.

Right next to you black belt for martial arts, you had hung up the few medals you had gotten from track, and right below that were some awards you had for gymnastics. Beside your soccer trophies you had some kind of art award, and beside that was more awards and things you had received from playing and participating in other sports and activities. Bruce had no idea you were even into some of these things, but just from looking at your room, he could tell you weren't all that into or interested in some of the activities you did. Seeing as some activities and such had more awards when compared to others, but one thing in particular seemed to really catch your interest.

Music.

Not only did you have a whole wall and section of your room dedicated to it, but it felt more organized, and the placement of awards and such seemed more thought out in a way.

Countless awards littered the wall, and from the placement alone he knew you were proud of them. The pictures hung on the wall showed you shaking someone's hand as you either held up an award or album cover. You smiled, and Bruce could see how genuine it was as he felt like he could feel your happiness radiate off the photo itself. The people you were shaking hands with looked pretty happy themselves, and Bruce was a little surprised that he recognized them, but that made him feel more conflicted.

The people in those photos with you, were famous, and you had gotten those opportunities to meet them and shake their hand all by yourself.

All of these awards — they were only the finishing products of what you had spent all of your time doing. They were only small glimpses into the person you truly were, and as Bruce looked at the records you had hung on the wall, he could feel his own regret spilling out of his bleeding heart.

He wish he was there with you.

He wish that he had been there to see you even get half of these rewards that you undoubtedly deserved. He wish he got to hear the music you played, and what kind of songs you wrote. He wish he had been there to see you go on, and work your way up, with him being there as your support, and yet...

He had missed everything.

From the plays, to the matches you had, to the games you played in and competitions you participated in, and how could he forget your performances that even earned you such big, important awards. Awards that probably meant so much to you, because of how far it showed you had grown.

Bruce missed it all. Every little thing.

... He had to find you.

No if's or but's this time. No more excuses. He had to find you. Bruce needed to.

So he did a more thorough search of your room. Finally placing the flyer down on your desk as he looked around. He checked your closet, your bed, even under the picture frames, and moved some of the awards around, in order to better check and search for anything. Any hint that could point to where you had gone, and or where you might be. Any clue, any thing that could tell him about you.

He even made sure to take a mental note of the people in the photos, just in case he had to reach out to them and ask if they knew where you were by some off chance. Though that was only if Bruce was convinced that you weren't even in the Manor, and getting some extra information on you never hurt anyway. Seeing as he had a lot of catching up to do.

As he searched, he ran into various things. From equipment, art pieces — most of which were unfinished — and old notes, to other random items. Like an airsoft gun, some glass beakers, various ties, a pair of shades, a glasses frame, and a sewing kit next to a first-aid kit? Bruce didn't want to think about how the first-aid kit both looked used, and was empty.

Bruce even stumbled upon a fancy looking tuxedo he didn't remember buying you at all, but a small tag caught his eye and-

Oh, it was a gift from someone else, and with the note you left behind the tag — most likely with the intention of giving the tuxedo back — it was safe to assume that you and this person knew each other quite well...

Bruce just put the tux back. He would've gotten you a better one anyway if you had just asked, or if he even knew you needed one in the first place. Though regardless of that, he kept looking.

Eventually, he looked under your bed, and found a single box under there. Undisturbed... sitting innocently in the darkness.

Bruce didn't waste much time as he reached out and grabbed it, and placed it on your bed. There was a thin layer of dust on top of it, which Bruce found a little strange but kept in mind as he opened the box and looked inside. There, he saw a variety of notebooks and papers, and from the looks of things, the items in here had been collecting a bit of dust too...

When was the last time you touched these?

It seemed a little strange that these were tucked away from everything else, and clearly you didn't want other people going through it or even seeing them since you kept it so out of view. Were they diaries? Bruce would rather learn anything personal about you from yourself, he didn't want to go through your things like this, but considering the situation...

He sighed, and just picked up a random notebook. If this could help him find you, then so be it. He didn't want to do this but he couldn't leave you alone either. Not again.

Yet, he was so focused on looking through your things that he didn't even realize that someone had passed by, and noticed the odd room Bruce was in. A room that they themselves haven't seen before.

"Woah, what's this place? An old childhood room or something?" Dick asked as he invited himself into the room, mindlessly looking around, not really paying attention to anything in particular as he waltzed around.

"It's Y/n's room." Bruce stated bluntly, still looking over the dusty notebooks in the box. Some simply labeled 'Notes' or 'Practice', while one in particular was called 'Ideas/List & Progress' with little drawn sparkles around it. Another two weren't labeled with titles or words, and instead with small music notes doodled onto the cover in your favorite color. Though Bruce didn't know the color was your favorite.

Nevertheless, Bruce decided to look through one of the notebooks with music notes on it, completely missing how Dick had froze, and turned to look at him as if he was crazy.

"What? You've got to be kidding, right?" Bruce just gestured to one of the records on the wall, flipping through the notebook in his hand as he read through it quickly but carefully.

Dick, still not entirely convinced and honestly just really confused, looked at one of the records Bruce had gestured towards, and felt like he had just gotten ran over by a truck with how hard reality hit him. There your name was, signed and everything, with a well-known producer listened as well.

His eyes even darted to the other records, only to find the same thing, and for just one final check, he looked at one of the awards on the wall.

Your name was engraved on it.

"Holy-" He covered his mouth, more than shocked as he looked around the room again, hand falling from his face, "but that means-" Now Dick was paying more attention to the room, moving from one thing to another as he looked over everything now.

"How did they- there's no way they did all of this? And- what. They even did gymnastics?!" To say that Dick was in absolute disbelief and shock was an understatement. Yet he hardly had any time to recover or process anything as another person popped into the room, albeit only temporarily.

"I'm afraid it is quite possible, Master Dick." Alfred spoke up, catching the attention of the oldest sibling as he moved into the room, and set a stack of papers on your desk, right next to the flyer Bruce had set down.

Confused and curious, Dick looked at the stack once Alfred had pulled away from it, and picked up the first paper.

It was another flyer, but this time for some kind of solo event or concert you'd be doing. The date written down was a few days ago... a week or so having already passed since then, but how could this be?

Dick hesitated, but took another one as he looked it over. Again, it was for some kind of concert or performance, but the date and time was further away. Three weeks to a month having passed since, but how did they not notice? Didn't you say anything? Why didn't you tell them?

"This doesn't make any sense... why didn't Y/n tell us about any of these things?" He asked, mostly to himself as he continued to look through the various flyers.

"Why don't you tell me, Master Dick?" Alfred quipped, looking at Dick in a knowing way before stepping out of the room, "Now, I'll be heading off, but I do trust that both of you make the right choice this time around." With that, he simply left. Leaving Dick confused but feeling worse at the same time as he looked back at the flyers, mind racing until he spotted something.

Carfully, Dick pulled out another flyer out of the pile as he placed the others to the side. He recognized this one, but where had he seen it before? Was it...

... Oh god.

Dick whipped out his phone and checked his messages. He had to scroll down a bit, but he quickly found your contact and tapped on it. He flipped through your messages, hundreds upon thousands of which he never responded to, and even if that alone made he feel bad. When he found what he was looking for, he felt even worse.

He found a message of you sending him a photo of the flyer, and said how you hoped you'd see him there. The message itself had been sent almost a year ago, and as he looked back at the flyer, he didn't know how to feel. Yet he kept looking, especially as he spotted another familiar poster.

Some of them he was able to connect back to another message you had sent, and the further back he went the more he responded... but it wasn't much, and he seemed to leave you on read more times than not. He had made an effort, but clearly it wasn't enough.

Dick couldn't imagine how that must've felt for you, and he almost didn't want to. Yet he still continued to search through the flyers, and came across one he had an odd memory of. He did remember seeing a text for it, but also remembered hearing about it somehow? He wasn't too sure, but just incase he did decide to look through his voicemail. He didn't know what he'd find, but he decided to just have a little look, even if he wasn't sure he'd even find anything.

So, he matched the date of the message and scrolled until he found it.

The voicemail innocently stared at him, and Dick couldn't help but hesitate before he tapped on it, and let it play. Heart already heavy as he stared down at the flyer. The kind of look someone gave when they already knew it was too late, and Dick didn't know what was worse. The fact that he basically missed out on your entire life at this point, or that he had nothing to say for it besides that he was sorry, and had just forgotten about these things one too many times.

["Hey, Dick! I, um, I hope everything is going well and that patrol hasn't been too bad." Your voice wavered as you spoke. You were clearly nervous but you tried to push on anyway, and cleared your throat before you tried again.]

["How are you, though? I heard that you had a rough night the other day- and I know I'm not really into all this crime-fighting stuff like everyone else but... I just hope you're okay, y'know?" You chuckled nervously before you cleared your throat again, "An-anyway, um, yeah. I just- hope you're okay." The sound of a paper being fiddled with could be heard, and you took in a small breath.]

["So... I have this performance I'll be doing next Saturday- it's more of a competition really, since other musicians and stuff will be there too. It's at 7 o'clock, and I know you guys mostly work at night and everything- but if you could drop by or even just quickly come around at 8:15 that would be great! Since, um, that's when I'll be performing..."]

Dick looked at awards you hung on the wall as the voicemall continued to play. Based on the date of the performance he was able to find the award. You had gotten second place.

["It's um, it's a piece I wrote that's a tribute to your family- the Flying Graysons, that is, since we're allowed to play songs we wrote if they were approved beforehand, and it was! So, um, I really hope you don't mind. Your family is cool! Not that Bruce and everyone else isn't or anything- um, I'm going to stop talking about that before I say something stupid. But! I couldn't help but feel inspired so I, y'know-" you cleared your throat again. Clearly nervous.]

["Sorry for my rambling- but, yeah. You can pass by if you want or have the time, and it's right by that one place Bruce had that whole charity announcement on Monday. You can't miss it, there will be lights and all this other stuff- not to mention that it'll probably be loud considering things, but uh, yeah."]

["So if you think you can make it or pass by, it's at 7! Next Saturday! And if you can't make it by then, I play at 8:15! So, yeah. Remember that! If- if you want to. Hope to see you there! And if I don't, that's okay. I just hope you enjoy the piece if you hear it. Have a good night! Or-! Or day! Whenever you listen this- um, bye!"]

What? You had wrote a song for him? For his parents? For them?

Dick's heart swelled. He didn't even get to hear it either, he wasn't able to. He didn't have time, and he forgot, but that didn't make things better, did it?

You had gone through all of that effort, and not only made a song for him but even played it during a competition and got second place. Yet he couldn't even put a few minutes to the side to listen to it. He didn't.

Now Dick definitely felt awful.

However, he did notice that there was another voicemail left by you just a few minutes after the last one. So, he decided to play that too before his guilt and regret could fully settle in, as if it'd make him feel better somehow.

["8:45! IT'S 8:45! THAT'S WHEN I PLAY! NOT- Not 8:15, sorry! I mixed up the times- that's when a friend of mine plays, not me! Sorry! Uh, but yeah. I play at 8:45- stop by if you can! I hope to see you then! Buh-bye!"]

Okay, well, Dick officially felt worse now. So much worse.

You had all this character and personality, and yet he was never able to fully see it — to hear it like he has now. Not like this, not while he was paying attention.

Your voice was so much different than what he remembered, and despite your nerves you really tried to tell him because you hoped he'd be there. You tried to tell him in hopes he'd actually show up, and he never did. Even as he listened to your other voice messages, he could hear how his own actions, or lack thereof, were affecting you.

The messages grew shorter, more to the point, and while you did still sound enthusiastic — it's like he could hear the hope dying in your voice. The hope that'd he show up. That any effort would be made, but that didn't happen, and it didn't help that Dick was listening to some of the voicemails he was going through right now, for the first time.

He could only imagine the pain he caused you, and Bruce was thinking the same thing.

Bruce was still looking through your notebooks as Dick was regretting everything he had done to you in the past.

The notebook Bruce was reading now was one where you had written down majority of your more recent song ideas, along with things you wanted to try and melodies you were trying to mix together. It was mostly full of lyrics and small notes to yourself about certain things you wanted to keep in mind, and though there was a lot of things crossed out, Bruce couldn't help but be... charmed in a strange way.

How you talked to yourself was adorable, and seeing your excitement for your own performances and such through each word you wrote, just made Bruce feel so happy for you. He could almost picture your smile and how giddy you felt when you were writing some of these things down, or how focused you were when trying to figure out how to continue the chorus of a song you were making — or if there should even be lyrics to begin with. Along with how you wanted the song itself to sound, and what emotions you wanted to capture in it.

With each page turned it's like he could see the entire process you went through when it came to your song composition. Like he was almost there with you in the moment, watching you do your thing, and honestly? Just by that alone he couldn't help but grow... softer.

Bruce loved seeing how your mind worked when it came to music, and your thought process behind each and every little thing. He just... he felt like through each line and little note he read and looked over, he was falling in love. The kind of love that he couldn't quite describe, besides just the love only a father could feel when they really see their child for who they are for the first time. The kind of love Bruce hadn't felt in a long while, nor this intensely.

You were so creative and passionate, so driven to achieve your dream and do what you loved. You were just so... you, and there was just something about the way you expressed that in the notebook that felt charming. The deeper Bruce got into the notebook, the harder it was to not love you, and each time he saw one of your little notes, he could feel himself smiling. You were so precious, how could he not see that before?

Though, besides all of that, he did notice a small pattern.

Every performance you had, you mentioned in the notebook and would express your feelings about it, and every time you did — you'd write something beneath it. Just a small paragraph about certain hopes you had. Hopes that made Bruce's heart squeeze tighter.

It was you hoping that they'd get to see you perform, that they'd show up, and suddenly Bruce was reminded of why he was doing this in the first place. So, he started to flip through your book, shaking out of whatever trance he was in.

With each performance that passed, the little paragraph got shorter, smaller, simpler. Like a quiet prayer that was dying down, as the believer slowly lost their hope and faith. It even came to a point where only one sentence was written for a while.

"I hope I see one of them."

Bruce's heart broke a little more each and every time he saw it, but the page that really got to him was when the sentence was smudged, small wrinkles and creases were on the page, and you couldn’t even finish writing the sentence as the end of the 'e' in 'them' dragged out.

What didn't help was when he flipped a few more pages, and found the last performance you had written about. It was a few months ago, but the date didn't immediately catch Bruce's eye. No, no, no, what caught his attention at first was the change of that single sentence.

"I hope the audience enjoys it."

His heart shattered at that, smile fading as he took in a breath. A moment passed, with Bruce just stating at the writing. Wishing for the impossible, and to change things that had already been done. It was too late, but he somehow refused to believe that now.

Finally, he noticed the date and paused.

That... couldn't be right. You used to write in this notebook all the time from what he could tell, why did you stop? Did something happen that day?

If months really have passed... then that would explain all the dust on the box and contents within it, but still, it didn't make sense. Weren't you still here in the Manor? Bruce honestly couldn't think of why'd you would stop writing unless you somehow couldn't reach the notebook, but you couldn’t have left, right? Surely, above everything else, he would've notice that, right?

...

Bruce finally looked at Dick, seeing the oldest just staring at old flyers from various events and such you had participated in throughout your life. A life they never got to see.

"When was Y/n's last performance?" He asked bluntly, getting straight to the point.

Dick glanced at Bruce for a moment before looking back down at your desk. He moved some of the papers around before he found the most recent one and looked over to his father with a raised brow.

"About a week ago, why?"

Bruce looked back down at the notebook in his hand, eyes scanning over the date again before he closed it. Looking back at Dick, he asked another question.

"Have you seen Y/n around?"

Dick grew quiet at that, and after a moment he just sighed and shook his head.

"No, I can't say I have." It was only then did he catch what Bruce may have been thinking, "You don't think they-"

"It's a possibility. We can't be too sure just yet," Bruce just wanted to hold onto his hope that you were still here, and even if the chance was small he was willing to take it. He didn't want to believe that they had pushed you so far away that you would not only consider leaving, but actually went ahead and did it. He wanted to be doubtful, but he couldn't rule out anything. Not yet.

"Just keep looking, I'll go ask the others." Bruce stated as he placed the notebook back in the box and headed out the room.

"Keep looking? For what?! Other events we missed? More ways we ignored them? Things they did without us?!"

To say Dick's guilt was eating away at him would be an understatement. It was practically devouring him at this point, and he could just barely take it.

Bruce paused at the doorframe, sighing as he looked back at Dick, "Any hints or clues to where they could be. Favorite spots they might frequent, places where their lessons were held, people they know, anything." He left him with that, causing Dick to just run a stressed hand through his hair as he took a breath.

Worry and regret heavily weighed down on him, but all he could do was carry it for now. He'd make it up to you somehow. He would, and he'd finally get to hear that song one way or another.

As Dick started his search, so did Bruce.

Bruce did a general search around the house, looking for anyone he came across while also trying to look for you. He thought that if he was lucky, he'd run into you. Even if the possibility was small, it could still happen — or he hoped so anyway.

Just this once, Bruce really hoped for the best.

Though, he did end up running into someone, even if it wasn't who he was looking for.

"Woah, someone looks serious. What's got your bat panties in a twist?" Jason asked, amused, "Actually, wait, don't tell me. I don't c-"

"Have you seen Y/n?" Bruce cut Jason off, getting straight to the point.

The sudden question confused Jason as he gave Bruce a weird look, some of his amusment still remaining but it began to die down a bit.

"No... why?"

Bruce took a breath, fingers twitching, "Do you know where they could be?"

"How the hell am I supposed to know?" Jason's own confusion began to take over, his amusement continuing to die down, "Seriously, did something happen? Why are you suddenly looking for them?"

Bruce took a moment, just looking at Jason before he sighed.

"When was the last time you saw them?"

"... A few days ago..." Jason glanced off to the side.

"Jason."

"Okay, okay! Fine. I don't fucking know! A few weeks ago? Maybe?!" He answered, getting agitated already. "I'm barely here enough as it is, how am I supposed to know where they are!"

Again, Bruce took in another breath, but there was something about it that Jason didn't like. Maybe he inhaled too sharply or deeply — Jason wasn't sure, but all he knew was that he wasn't going to like what Bruce was about to say.

"Dick hasn't seen them either."

"And that's supposed to be a surprise, how? He lives all the way in Bludhaven, of course he isn't going to see Y/n. 'Cause they live here-"

"I haven't seen them."

"..." That was a little more surprising, but just a little more. It still couldn’t mean anything... right?

"With all the shit you do, I would be surprised if you even saw them on a semi-regular basis." Jason crossed his arms, still not convinced — not entirely anyway. Yet Bruce could only exhale softly, the action bothering Jason even more.

"It's just a possibility. I'm trying to find them. Think you can help out?" Bruce clarified before asking. Additional help would definitely be great, especially because it meant that they could find you faster. He could find you faster.

"What makes you think I'm gonna do that?"

"Did know that Y/n wrote a song that's a tributed to you?"

"... What."

Bruce sighed, "You don't have to do it because I asked you to, or even because I want to find them. You can do it for yourself, Jason. But I'll leave that decision to you." Then, he just walked off to continue his search for you, and the other occupants of the Manor. Leaving Jason by himself, alone...

"That bitch-" Jason cursed under his breath as he walked off, deciding that he'll help look. Though only so he could ask you if Bruce was bullshiting him or not, and not for any other reason...

... Wait, you wrote songs? Like, actually?

Jason just shook his head, already upset enough as he shoved the thought to the side. When he found you he could ask, and how hard could that be? The Manor was only so big, and besides, you were just one person. He could probably find you before Bruce if he just looked in the right places, but the only thing now was finding those places...

Okay, so maybe he saw the problem, but still. This couldn't be too hard. You were the only one in the whole family who wasn't a vigilante, and so it was only about a matter of time.

Nevertheless, Jason began looking around as well, trying to figure out where he should look as he mindlessly checked every other room he came across. Where would you even go anyway? He'd probably check your room first but he figured that Bruce had already checked there, and it wasn't like Jason knew where your room even was. Though he just chalked that up to how infrequent his incredibly short visits were.

Still, he didn't even know where to start, and would rather avoid searching the entire Manor if he could. He tried to scratch his brain for anything but he just... had no idea.

Well, okay, he had one idea, but that was only because of one night. Even then he's still not sure it was you who he saw on the-

["Master Y/n? Are you alright?"]

Jason's thought process was cut off by a sudden voice. He immediately recognized it as Alfred's, and a realization hit him. Right! He should look for Alfred first, he'd know where you are. Alfred practically knew everything about everyone in the Manor, so he'd lnow something for sure.

So, he followed the sound until he stood in the doorway of one of the lounges. The television was on and playing some kind of recording, but Jason paid no mind to it.

Confused, Jason called out, "Alfred?"

When he didn't receive a response, he huffed as his eyes drifted to the television. What was playing, anyway?

You — a smaller, younger version of you — stood in a door way, looking out in the hall before turning back to the camera. Big, innocent eyes looking up. Looking at Jason.

You couldn't have been no older than eight or nine.

[You gave a little nod with a small hum, "I'm okay, Alfred. Just... waiting, like you said."]

A small, soft huff could be heard from the other end of the camera, and the camera moved to be placed down a counter of some kind. Which revealed Alfred to be the one having been recording everything so far.

["Yes, well. How about we do a little something while we wait, hm?" Alfred asked, moving a stool closer to the counter — moving the camera again to be placed on the kitchen isle this time.]

Ingredients and tools used for baking could be seem on the counter. The stool Alfred had place was next to where he was standing, and a good distance away from the stove.

[You looked at Alfred curiously, "What are we going to do?"]

["Oh, nothing too much, Master Y/n. But... I do require a bit of assistance baking this cake, that is if you'd like to help, of course." Alfred patted the top of the stool as he spoke, "Though you can always just watch, if you'd like."]

[You perked up at what Alfred said, climbing up onto the stool enthusiastically with a smile. "I wanna help!" You exclaimed, looking over the ingredients before looking back at Alfred, "But... what cake are we making?"]

[Alfred hummed, pretending to think before be looked back down at you, "Well, what kind of cake would you like, Master Y/n? It is your birthday after all."]

["Really?" When Alfred nodded, you gasped excitedly before suggesting your favorite flavor at the time.]

["Well then, let's get started, shall we?"]

From there, the rest of the recording was of you and Alfred baking. With Alfred helping you when he had to, and laughing lightly when you would inevitably make a mess.

Laughs and jokes were exchanged, and it was probably the happiest Jason has ever seen you... which made him feel weird in a way. He didn't like it, not one bit, and yet he continued to watch the old, wholesome memory play out before him.

Jason watched as you got a bit of flour on your nose and how Alfred wiped it off. He watched as while Alfred was deciding on the shape of the cake, you gathered all the different colors and types of sprinkles you could find, and was looking at a particular color of food coloring. How you nearly fell trying to grab the food coloring, and how Alfred just narrowly managed to catch you. How after that, Alfred visibly recovered from the near heart attack he had gotten from watching you fall, and just watched you add the food coloring to the frosting after you had thanked him for catching you, and apologized for falling.

... It got Jason thinking, if only a little bit.

He didn't know much about you, not really anyway. Even if his visits were few and far inbetween, not to mention incredibly short, someone would think that he'd catch onto a few things about you, or just generally have more interactions with you, but he didn't. All he really knew was that you knew how to play the violin really well, but that was assuming that who he saw that night really was you. Even if he doesn't know who else it'd be.

Jason still remembered that one occurrence despite how long it's been since then... but that was for a different time. He had to focus now, but he still couldn't help but watch the little version of you trying to frost the cake without being too messy, but failing miserably.

It did get him thinking about how many small moments he had missed with you, and just... how little time he had actually spent around you.

Obviously, you weren't a little kid anymore. After all, the last time he remembered seeing you — you were already a teenager. Though was that really a good thing? Jason did remember having some kind of interaction with you in the past... but it wasn't much of anything, and even then he probably forgot half of those moments. What definitely didn't help is that you both didn't have each other's phone numbers, and the only form of communication you had was seeing each other in person.

.... Okay, maybe this whole 'finding you' thing was definitely a lot harder than Jason had originally thought.

["... Are they going to come, Alfred?" You asked, sitting in front of the cake you and Alfred had just made together, looking up at the camera that Alfred was holding once again.]

[Alfred didn't respond right away, but did eventually say, "I'm afraid not, Master Y/n, but if you'd like we could wait a little longer."]

[You shook your head, looking at the cake before looking back at the camera, "It's okay. We can blow out the candles now, but..." you hesitated, looking down at the table, "could you... stay with me? Please?" You looked away, embrassed for asking but didn't take back what you said.]

[Again, a soft huff came from the other end of the camera. "Of course, Master Y/n."]

After a short happy birthday song, the camera was placed down on the table as Alfred cut the cake. It was only after Alfred had given both you and himself a slice did the footage cut out.

Nothing could describe the face you made when Alfred said that no one was coming. Just like how Jason couldn't even begin to describe what it made him feel.

Even when a new recording started, he could hardly pay attention to it as all he saw was your face staring up at the camera. Expression not necessarily sad or upset, but it was easily the most heartbreaking thing Jason had ever seen. A kid shouldn't have a face like that. You shouldn't have a face like that.

Jason was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't even notice Cassandra trying to get his attention, nor did he feel her even pull on his sleeve. All he could think of was you, sitting at that table all by yourself. Alone.

He just turned the other way, practically stomping down the hall as he looked straight ahead, glaring.

He had to find you. Now.

Cass, on the other hand, was just confused. Watching as Jason stormed off before looking back at the recording that was playing on the television. What about it had made Jason sp upset? She didn't know, but she was a bit curious.

Bruce had already confronted her and asked her where you were, and of course she didn't know either. He did mention something about how Damian was trying to help a little, which was a surprise in itself, and how Jason might be trying to search for you too, and had asked her if she could do the same. She agreed, of course, just wanting to help out, but having run into Jason just now? That was... odd. Especially when he suddenly stormed off like that, but that wasn't her main focus right now. She still had to-

["Are you still trying to record this, Alfred?"]

Wait... was that your voice?

Cassandra turned back to the television, only to see the camera pointed towards the floor.

["Of course, Master Y/n. Just give me one moment, I almost have the camera set up."]

Oh, Alfred was there too? What was going on?

[Light laughter was heard before you spoke again, "Here, let me help you."]

The camera began to move, and as it paned up, there you were. A soft smile on your face, shining colored hues looking at the camera as you made a few more adjustments before stepping away.

Now, you definitely looked like a teenager or young adult. Voice more matured and settled, almost calm in a way.

["There. That should be good, what do you think?" You asked Alfred, tilting your head to the side a bit, most likely looking at the butler.]

["I have to agree, Master Y/n. Everything should be working properly." Alfred then came into frame, moving towards the counter as you moved around the kitchen isle to follow him. "Now, what is it that you wanted to make this year?"]

["Oh! Right, well..." and you told him, already grabbing a few necessarily ingredients from around the kitchen.]

It wasn't long before the two of you started baking again, but this time around you were clearly more experienced than your younger self — not that Cass was aware of that anyway. You both did your own parts, working exceedingly well together as the conversation between the two of you was nothing but natural.

Cass never saw you talk so naturally, or even knew you could bake, but there were a lot of things she didn't know about you.

She could see that in the footage, you were really relaxed and happy. Almost at ease as you skillfully moved about, as if knowing the necessary steps to make what you were hoping to bake by heart, and how you navigated the kitchen made it look as if you almost knew it as well as Alfred did. It was almost refreshing to see you just be so... in tune with your surroundings, and Cass almost wished she had been there to see you bake for herself. Though she could settle watching footage of you bake for now.

Even if she didn't know why you were even baking in the first place until Alfred mentioned something about a gift for your Birthday, and how that led you to talking about some of the things your friends had given you.

This was... your birthday? Just you and Alfred?

That didn't feel right... but then again, she didn't even know when your birthday was to begin with — and now that she thinks about, had you ever celebrated Christmas with everyone? As a whole family?

... She wasn't sure.

["Are you certain that you don't want to wait, Master Y/n? You never know, someone could show up this time." Alfred asked, looking at you with slight concern.]

[You only smiled, "I'm sure. Besides, even if any of them did come, we both know that it'd be on accident." You laughed lightly to yourself, looking down at the pastry both you and Alfred had made together. "I doubt they even know when my birthday is, but that's okay." You looked back at Alfred, your smile still happy but... there was something off with it.]

["I've told you before, haven't I? You're all the company I need in this house. I'm happy just spending my birthdays like this with you." You took a piece of the pastry and ripped it off before holding it in the air, as if doing a toast, and held it toward Alfred. "So, happy birthday to me?"]

[Alfred sighed softly, but could only smile as he took his own piece of the pastry, copying your actions as he held the piece toward you, "Happy birthday, Master Y/n."]

The footage cut right after, and suddenly Cass found herself in a similar position that Jason had been in just a few moments ago. Just staring at the screen, unsure what to do with this new information, the weight on her chest growing.

Had you really spent every birthday like that? If so... then why didn't you tell anyone? Or had you tried, only for nothing to come of it?

The thought alone hurt, strangely enough, and all Cass wanted to do was... well. She wasn't sure.

She wanted to do so many things, and yet she didn't know if anything would work. Or if anything she could do would fix... well, anything at all.

She wanted to try your baking and... and celebrate a birthday with you. Or maybe she just felt obligated to do so after having seen the recording, but a big part of her did mean it. Especially because she didn't want you to feel alone or anything ever again, not after seeing the extent it went to. Though perhaps there was some irony in that thought that Cass failed to realize.

Regardless, Cass found herself walking off too. Completely missing the figure who turned off the television, and unplugged the camera from it that held all of the footage both her and Jason were shown.

Cass was practically speed walking as she checked the library — remembering have seen glimpses of you in there before — while Jason checked the music room, only for both to turn up equally empty. Yet they kept looking. Everyone did.

Dick tried calling and texting you while trying to see if there was anywhere you could be outside of the Manor. Tim ended up helping as he ran into Dick, and was basically locating and tracking down all the places you've been to with the help of your notebooks and awards in your room. All the while listening to some very earlier pieces you've wrote and played on the mp3 player he found in your box.

Bruce was still looking all over the Manor for you, each minute that passed making him more paranoid and worried. What started as a small possibility was growing into a certainty and he did not enjoy that at all. Damian had decided to search for Alfred, since it seemed like the smartest choice if they wanted to end this quickly. Yet when he did find Alfred and asked him where you were, it turned out that Alfred didn't know where you were either.

While yes, he did know some of the teachers and coaches you've had in the past, he didn't know where you were at this exact moment. How could that be? It was simple, really.

Alfred hadn't seen you in a while either, and once that little piece of information spread around the family... what followed after could only be described as chaos.

The Manor was practically flipped upside down as Bruce, Damian, Jason, and Cass searched for you. Not a single room went unchecked, and when they still came out empty handed, their own worries began to fuel each others.

Dick was the first one to suit up and head out, already calling Barbara as night fell on Gotham, with Tim beginning to suit up — yet Jason had beat him to the punch and was out the second the Manor was cleared. Cass was next to follow, with Bruce and Damian not following too far behind. Tim only left after informing Stephanie — and after downloading some of your songs — and telling Alfred to keep a look out just in case you came back home.

In just a few hours, what started as an unusually uneventful and calm, quiet day for the family, quickly turned into one of the most panicked induced searches and painful night of their lives.

All because of you.

---------

You were tuning your guitar calmly, tapping your foot to the melody playing in your head as you hummed. The silence surrounding you was peaceful for a chance, and didn't feel suffocating or as unnerving as the silence in the Manor did.

Honestly, it took a bit of getting used to but after a few weeks you had grown to love it. Waking up everyday and having someone there to not only greet you, but actually acknowledge you also took a bit of getting used to, but you managed much more easily with that.

Sure, there were other things as well, but you eased into it and had come to accept these small things as just parts of your new life. Yet, you still found yourself appreciating and noticing the smallest things, and almost crying over them too.

It had been a few months since you had left the Manor, and honestly you couldn't be happier.

You now shared an apartment with one of your closets friends, and your career helped you cover your half of the rent, as well as other expenses. You had truly found comfort with this new lifestyle, and even if you'd like to move out of Gotham one day — you could settle for this for now.

This, you believed, was what peace truly felt like.

Even when your phone started to go off like crazy — you just took one look at who it was and rolled your eyes, putting your phone on silent as you placed it face down on the table in front of you. You didn't know what Dick and Tim needed so badly, but you were sure they'd be able to figure it out themselves. After all, they were the sons of the world's greatest detective, right? They could handle themselves.

So you just leaned back into your couch, sighing softly as you mindlessly strummed away at your guitar, smiling a little to yourself when the tune was just right. Creating a melody came all too naturally to you, and all you did was carry it on — humming softly as countless ideas filled your head. A small song beginning to form, even if unintentionally.

A song that went on — with the suffering of Gotham going on in the background. The city being cleared out and searched by the vigilantes that dared to protect it, all of it being done just to look for one person. You.

The shouts and screams served as the base, with the shattering of glass and bones being the lower kick, perhaps. The heart beat serving as the tempo, and so on.

So, just as you had years ago, you played on. Calm and happy in your own little world, unaware of the horrors to come — and destruction being made in your name.

–––––

Well, that's long, isn't it?

Might be making a another post that kind of details what some of the others did before everything went to hell? We'll see. Maybe.

Sorry again for any mistakes, especially towards the halfway point/end there.

#platonic yandere batfam #yandere batman #yandere batfam #yandere dc #yandere x gn reader #gn reader #platonic yandere #honestly this is probably the longest post i've ever made #not series

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