#i know the first three are all mostly in spring but the pace will pick up in the next parts
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
cinderswrites · 4 months ago
Text
Daffodil Dreams :: Festive Spirit
Tumblr media
A Coral Island Fanfic
Playlist || Cover Art || Mood Board
Themes: Slice of Life, Romance, Fluff, maybe some Angst, maybe some Smut (not too graphic but graphic enough)
MDNI || OC x Rafael mainly, OC x Twins (friendship only), other characters featured here and there || WC: 3,104
Content Warning: Mildly graphic medical procedure
Tumblr media
The next morning, Cinders was fishing in the nearby rice fields. The air was crisp after an overnight drizzle, and she could feel the beginnings of a warm day as she stood on the wooden platform, casting into the rice fields. Nearby sounds of birds chirping and insects buzzing sang their morning melody as the forest near her began waking up.
Her right hand was still painful and it throbbed with the effort of reeling in and casting, but she was able to ignore it. She needed something for the potluck soup today and figured she’d fish up a crab. It took a couple of hours before she found one that looked good enough to take in and she began walking back to her farm with her catches dangling on the chain hook she attached to her bag.
Kenny, the son of the ranchers who lived behind her, waved to her as she strolled past. The sun was peeking over the trees as it made its way across the pale blue sky, sending streaks of fading pink light to signal morning was in full swing. “Mornin’, Cinders!” the young man called out, accented with one of his brilliant smiles. “You’re up early.”
Bessie, his treasured cow, seemed to moo in agreement. Cinders slowed her steps as she walked by and gestured to her back. “Morning, Kenny! I was fishing for the soup later on,” she replied.
“Ooh, hope you got a good one! See you there.” He grinned again and tipped his hat to her as she continued towards her farm.
In her cozy little cabin, she prepped the crab and began making some frybread using her grandmother’s recipe that she was taught at a younger age. There were still a couple of hours before she had to go to the clinic for the bandage change and then to the festival, so she worked diligently mixing the dough, kneading it, and breaking it into separate pieces, frying them a few at a time.
After almost an hour and a half, she had a large picnic basket filled to the brim with bread. Cinders cleaned her kitchen quickly, then went to her wardrobe to pick something out. She browsed through her clothes, most of them some variation of pants or leggings with faded graphic tees. She had a few special dresses, and she chose one that was white linen with small blue flowers dappled over it. She brushed out and braided her hair down her back, tying it off with a white ribbon.
In the body-length mirror on the inner door of her wardrobe, she made sure her face was clean from any stray specks of flour that may have landed on her. Finally, she swapped her slip-on sneakers for a pair of comfy sandals and grabbed the basket with the bread and the small dish with the cleaned crab inside. She slung a smaller handbag over her shoulder as well.
The walk past Garden Lane and through Starlet Town was relatively unremarkable. The day was bright and warm with a cool breeze sifting through the trees and the streets, and most people were on their way to the festival. She passed by Sam’s shop, seeing him and Emily getting ready to leave from the window she looked through. She passed by Bonbon, the friendly brown fluffy labradoodle that belonged to the small blond child. I think her name is Zoe. I should commit these names to memory.
Her idle thoughts kept her company as she approached the clinic. She opened the door with one arm, pulling herself and the basket hanging from her elbow through. No one was at the desk, but the door had a bell on it, and she heard an “I’ll be right there!” come from within the clinic.
She set the basket onto the counter and waited patiently as Charles shuffled from the back exam room, muttering to himself about inventory. He looked up as he approached the counter and smiled. “Ah, Cinders! Here for your bandage change?”
“Yep!” she chirped, holding up her hand. “I did my best to keep it clean, but I’m afraid I might have gotten some flour in it.”
“Flour?” The redhead looked at her quizzically before his blue eyes settled on the basket. “Oh! Did you make bread for today?”
“Yes. My grandma’s frybread recipe,” Cinders grinned, puffing out her chest proudly.
Charles’ eyes sparkled. “I don’t believe I was living here when your grandparents were still around, but I’ve heard tales about Ina’s frybread. I can’t wait to try some at the festival!”
He waved his hand at her and together they walked back to the same exam room as the day before. A few moments later, she was seated on the exam table and he had her hand on the tray with some clean bandages and antiseptic. He unwrapped her hand carefully and pulled away the gauze. A few stringy strands of it pulled at the edges of her skin where it had gotten stuck and made her take a sharp intake of breath.
“Sorry about that,” Charles murmured as he tilted her hand back and forth, examining the small wound.
“It’s okay,” she replied softly, looking at the wound and seeing the edges of the cut looking moist and white, like skin ready to peel. He removed the butterfly bandages and reached for an alcohol swab, cleaning around the wound with his gloved hands once more. He added more antiseptic ointment before placing down a fresh piece of gauze and wrapping her hand with the self-adhesive wrap again, this time in a pink color.
“It’s looking good,” he told her as he pulled off his gloves and began cleaning up. “No need for the butterfly band-aids this time, and you should be healed up in a week or so. Starting tomorrow, take the wrap off and let it air dry, try not to get it dirty, okay?”
Cinders listened to his instructions and nodded. She slid off the exam table, standing up and flexing her hand open and closed. “Thank you, Charles! I’ll see you in a bit at the festival, then?”
He nodded. “Yes, see you then!”
She gave a small wave as she walked back out to the lobby area and grabbed her basket. Leaving the clinic, she was greeted with the breeze carrying the salty smell of the sea towards her and she smiled up at the clear sky. She could already hear the buzz of people chatting over in Alun-Alun Square.
Cinders walked up the steps behind the clinic, turning left to walk around the Victorian Mansion that belonged to Randy, Ling, and Leah. She trotted up another set of stairs until she was on the path that led straight to the square where the festival was being held. She smiled at the librarian, Millie, before she continued walking into the festival.
All around her was an array of delicate pinks; pillows, blankets, and trees. Almost everywhere she looked, she saw pink. She saw most of the townspeople as well, smiling and saying a quick “Hello!” while on her way to the long spread of food. As she approached, Frank, the owner of Fishensips, visibly brightened and waved at her. “Cinders! Hey, you made it!”
She grinned, holding up her basket. “Of course I did!” she said, “And with food, as well.”
He eyed the basket, scratching his chin. “What did you bring?”
“Grandma Ina’s frybread,” she said, finally walking up to one of the long tables and placing the basket on top of it. “There’s about a hundred pieces in there, so everyone should have enough.”
He laughed, and his mother, Betty, joined in as well. Betty reached over and placed one of her aged hands on Cinders’ arm gently, “You’re so sweet to be carrying on your grandmother’s recipes. I miss that old bird something fierce. Is she well, dear?”
Cinders nodded enthusiastically, “Very,” she told the older woman. “She told me in her last letter to tell you not to bend over backward making tumpeng this year.”
Betty laughed airily, bringing a hand up to her mouth. “Oh, of course, she would say that. You make sure to let her know it’s tradition!”
“I will,” the young woman smiled brightly. She remembered something else suddenly, and reached into her handbag, rummaging around for a moment. “I have a gift for you.”
Betty’s face brightened. “Oh?”
Cinders pulled out a daffodil hair clip, knit with soft yellow yarn. She gestured to Betty’s hair and the old woman nodded. With careful hands, she clipped the daffodil into Betty’s black and gray hair, just above her left ear. “There you go!”
“It’s so beautiful, Cinders!” Betty praised. “How did you know that daffodils are my favorite flower?”
Cinders’ face turned rosy as she smiled shyly, “Grandma Ina made it and sent it with her last letter.”
“You’ll have to get me her address soon so I can send her something as well. It would be wonderful to be in touch with her again,” Betty smiled at her gratefully. “Go enjoy yourself now, dear.”
Frank had moved back to the grill, still cooking, so Cinders nodded at Betty and stepped away from the buffet. She quickly walked up to the community soup and dropped in her prepped pieces of crab, giving it a quick stir, before she stepped back and looked around. People were milling about in little groups and Theo, a fisherman by trade and a hobbyist musician, was singing under the large cherry blossom tree.
As she meandered closer, his eyes brightened when he saw her and he gestured her over. “Cinders! Come, join me!”
She held up her hands, waving them in front of her with a laugh. He insisted, so, blushing something fierce, she walked over to him. He glanced up at her from the stool he sat on. “You know this song, right?” he asked her.
Cinders leaned over to the other stool in front of him, looking at the sheet music he placed down. She nodded and straightened up. “Yeah, I’ve sung it before,” she confirmed.
“Sing with me! I’ll lead you in, okay?” He grinned up at her, strumming the opening chords of the song.
Even though she knew the lyrics by heart—it had been a favorite song of her pappy’s and one she heard throughout childhood—she kept her golden gaze trained on the sheet paper, not wanting to mess up the song. Her voice was soft and bashful at first, but when Theo joined in, she increased her volume. Glancing up, she saw Ben sitting on one of the pillows, swaying slightly to the music. Behind him stood Leah who was also watching in interest. Several other people stopped to watch her and Theo perform the song.
One of which was Rafael. He had been on his way to the buffet when he noticed her and had stopped to watch. His smile was wider than usual, his mahogany gaze focused only on her. He had his hands in the pockets of his trousers, standing in a relaxed way. Cinders could feel the blush return to her face as she met his eyes, quickly turning them back to the sheet music.
The song felt like it lasted forever, but she kept her voice steady and even, harmonizing with Theo and taking small liberties with flourishes here and there. When it finished, the small crowd around the tree clapped their hands, and she heard a whistle from somewhere. Theo gestured to her and she bowed, the smile on her face so wide that her rosy cheeks were almost hurting.
When she straightened out, she patted Theo on the shoulder and dismissed herself with a small wave, walking off to the side and around the crowd as Theo began another song. She brushed some loose shorter strands of hair from her face as she took a deep breath. Rafael came into view then, having been seeking her out after she left Theo’s makeshift stage area.
“Cinders!” he said, his eyes wide with amazement and sounding breathless. “Wow! You… were incredible!”
She shook her head with a modest smile, waving her hand flippantly. “No, no, it was nothing!”
“Really,” he insisted, finally coming to a stop in front of her. They were close to a seating area, away from Theo’s audience. The sounds of his song drifted through the air above them. “I didn’t know you could sing so well.”
Cinders shrugged her shoulder, glancing down at her hands. “I’ve had some practice, I guess,” she laughed softly. “Did… did you enjoy it?”
Her golden eyes peeked through her lashes and he nodded enthusiastically. “Of course! If I had an award, I’d give you one,” he laughed. It was a newer sound she’d never heard before, as Rafael was such a quiet and reserved person. She enjoyed the deep sound of his laugh reverberating around them.
“Thank you,” she gushed, crossing a hand over her chest to rub her other forearm. “Did you eat, yet?”
“No, I was on my way there, but noticed you and Theo,” he said. “Do you want to get some food with me?”
Cinders nodded, “Yeah. Let’s go get a plate.”
They walked to the buffet together, each piling a plate with their favorites and some new things they hadn’t tried yet. Cinders noticed that her basket of frybread was almost half gone already and that Rafael had grabbed two pieces in addition to his other choices. They found a seat on two pillows situated a little farther from the other seating groups.
They ate in an easy silence, both of them watching the people around them mingle and talk amongst themselves. There seemed to be a mishap over at the buffet table as Frank tried to do some kind of trip with flipping meat on the grill, only for it to fly several feet away in the grass. Betty and Frank’s wife, Erica, seemed to be scolding him while he was grinning with embarrassment and rubbing his neck.
Cinders saw Connor talking with Mr. Duckorns, an owner of the vineyard. They had a glass of wine in their hands, a sample he must have brought to share with everyone. Over on the wooden dock, she could see the tips of several fishing poles, remembering that she saw some of the kids and Joko, one of the town’s carpenters, fishing in the lake of the temple nearby when she walked up.
“Are you doing the sack race this year?” Rafael asked her as he took a drink of some fruit juice.
She turned to set her gold eyes on him as she replied, “No, I probably shouldn’t.” She held up her brightly pink bandaged hand.
His eyebrows raised slightly. “Ouch! It was that bad?” he asked.
She nodded with an incredulous laugh, “You wouldn’t believe the size of the splinter when it came out. Charles had to make room for it to be removed.”
He smiled sympathetically at her, “Are you okay now? Does it hurt?”
Cinders shrugged, turning her gaze back toward the festivities. “Not as much as before. It’s healing, at least.”
“That’s good. Have you had a chance to use those gloves?”
She shook her head, “Not yet. I’m waiting for my hand to heal some more before I try to do any work with tools.”
He nodded in understanding, “Well, your axe is all finished and ready to be picked up.”
Cinders’ full lips stretched into a wide grin, “Really? Great! I guess I’ll see you tomorrow morning, then.”
He nodded, “For sure.”
“Are you going to race?”
“Mm…” he scratched his cheek as his eyes trailed over to the sack race where people were still signing up. “I usually do every year.”
“You should! I’ll be on the side cheering for you if you do,” she offered.
Rafael looked back at her, a shy smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Now, how can I refuse that?” he chuckled. “I’ll sign up once we’re done eating.”
“Sounds like a plan!” she nodded affirmatively. They settled back into the cozy silence between them, each taking their time eating the food they picked out. Once in a while, they’d comment on something they tried, or on something that happened. Like Luke accidentally tripping Ling on his second trip to the buffet, which made both of them snicker like school kids.
When the last call for the sack race sign-ups was sounded, both of them stood up from the pillows. Cinders brushed the back of her dress free of any loose grass and trotted after Rafael. Some ten or so minutes later, she was standing on the side, cheering with others who were not participating. Rafael looked so focused and determined on winning, it was endearing. He ended up in second place in the last round.
“Congrats!” she exclaimed as she bounded up to him, her eyes glittering with joy. “You did so well!”
He was still catching his breath and seemed to be stunned by her words. He reached up, rubbing the back of his neck, unable to suppress the wide grin that stretched across his handsome features. “Ha… thanks,” his voice was airy and bashful.
“Are you okay?” she giggled, reaching out to touch his upper arm in a comforting gesture.
He seemed to freeze in place for a few seconds before he nodded in a slightly jerky motion, “U-um, yeah, I’m fine. It was just tiring, heh.”
“I think we’re getting ready to wrap up the festival now,” Cinders mentioned, watching as a few people began to gather around the buffet and the community’s soup. “Come on.”
She reached for his hand, grabbing it gently to pull him along with her. They stood on the edges of the crowd as Judge Ross tasted the soup. Everyone eagerly awaited her reaction. “Delicious!” she called out after a moment, a bright smile on her face. “Amazing blend of community products everyone.”
The crowd clapped enthusiastically before people began converging in a line for a taste of their own. Sometime later, Cinders stood off to the side, sipping her small bowl and chatting with Rafael and Alice. Several people, seeing her chatting near the buffet table, had approached her and complimented her on the bread she had brought. The day’s events were finally winding down as the sky began to streak with orange and purple hues as the evening started creeping forward. In her mind, she thought today had been successful, in both the community potluck and her experience with her first island festival.
1 note · View note
rooftop--runner · 2 years ago
Note
2, 4, 5, 7, and 17 for the sonic questions? c:
Ooooooh so many questions!! :D
2. How did you hear about Sonic?
Technically I’m pretty sure I first heard of Sonic when I used to watch a little bit of Sonic Underground when I was in elementary school. It was either that or from Mario and Sonic at the 2010 Winter Olympic Games for the DS specifically, and I only had that to begin with because I was a Mario kid ALSKDKKS Funnily enough though I always played as Sonic even though I knew pretty much nothing about his games lol
4. Favorite male character(s)?
I think my top three have to be Silver, Sonic, and Metal, in no particular order because that order would probably change depending on what I’m fixated at the time lol I also really like Shadow too, just probably not as much as the other three any more. A funny thing is when I was first getting into the series, going through the games chronologically, even before I got up to 06 I just had a feeling Silver would end up being my favorite character based on vibes alone and he did!(at the time at least)
5. Favorite female character(s)?
I think Rouge might be my favorite, but I also reeeaaally love Tangle and Whisper, and Blaze is pretty great too! ALL THE GIRLS ARE SO GOOD it’s so hard to just pick a few!
(I’m gonna be talking about frontiers stuff in the next two, so here’s a spoiler warning juuuust in case)
7. Favorite vocal theme(s)?
OOOH NOW THIS IS A GOOD ONE there are so many vocal tracks that I love but I think my absolute favorite, as of recently, has to be One Way Dream. (Ignoring the fact that I was crying when I first heard it in Frontiers’ credits alskjdnfnsj) IT’S JUST SO GOOD it makes me so happy every time I listen to it! The music of the song itself just sounds so uplifting, and idk if this makes sense but it kind of reminds me of a combination of Endless Possibility and the general vibe of the Sonic Runners soundtrack, both of which I love so it makes sense that I would love their combination. AND THE LYRICS OH MY GOSH. The fact that the lyrics are a message from Sonic Team to the fans about how they’re dedicated to making the series even better than it already is because of how passionate the fan base is and how that passion is what drives them to keep going!! AAAAAAAAAA I LOVE IT SO MUCH (and another bonus is that I really enjoy singing and this song fits pretty well in my vocal range!)
I also reeeeaaaaaally love His World, but ESPECIALLY the Zebrahead cover, it’s just so fast paced and energetic it gets me super hyped. I also love Endless Possibility and pretty much all the boss fight themes in Frontiers (because of course I do alskdjfn). And special shout out to City Escape Act 1 from Generations, mostly because I just love the little section at the end
17. Favorite Sonic music track(s)?
OOOOH ANOTHER GOOD ONE there are literally so many I love I could probably spend hours listing all of them so I’ll try to limit myself lol. One that immediately stands out though is Rooftop Run (Day) from Unleashed (which you could probably guess from my url alakdkdnms) it’s another one of those songs that just makes me sooooooo happy to listen to because it’s so upbeat and energetic and AAAAAA I love it! And of course I also love the versions of the song used in Generations too. Spring Emotions from Sonic Runners is another one I absolutely ADORE I CAN’T EVEN FIND WORDS TO DESCRIBE IT IT’S JUST SO GOOD. I could probably say the same for a few other tracks in the Runners soundtrack but I’ll just leave it at the one for now lol. And I’m with you (The End boss theme) from Frontiers. OUGH THE EMOTIONS THAT SONG MAKES ME FEEL ARE INSANE. I don’t even know what to say, it just feels so climactic and leaves just the right emotional impact for a final boss, big Undertale vibes tbh (outside of just the gameplay lol).
A few others that stick out to me are Stardust Speedway and Metallic Madness from CD (especially the bad future versions of each), which I’m pretty sure I’m obligated to like as a Metal Sonic fan ALSKDJK, I honestly really like Windy Hill Zone 1 from Lost World and Sky Road from Team Sonic Racing more than I thought I would, and Solaris Phase 2 from 06 and Super Sonic vs. Perfect Dark Gaia from Unleashed are both AMAZING orchestral tracks for the final boss fights of their games.
This ended up getting so much longer than I expected, and sorry I didn’t really have too much to say for the first three questions and then proceeded to completely go off in the music department ALAKDJFND I would’ve finished this sooner but right when I was almost done writing it tumblr crashed and I lost all my progress so I had to start over aalksjfkd but this was really fun! Thank you for the questions!! :)
4 notes · View notes
angelatsumu · 3 years ago
Note
so yeah. I'd like to request Sugawara with m!reader who is a shy and soft person. They usually just kissing and cuddling, but today Suga asks reader about doing more intimate.
Also.. can you make the reader has praise kink, but doesn't realize because it's his first time?
Thankiee
i have been milling this over in my head for some time, so i hope this turns out as well as i've planned. <3
softdom!suga + m!virgin!reader
warnings: praise kink, nsfw, might be tooth-rottingly soft.
nsfw under the cut
suga's the most attentive partner you could ever imagine. from the early morning breakfast in bed to gentle displays of affection while in public, he's constantly searching to satisfy your emotional needs and make it clear how much he cares for you.
at times, he can get caught up in work and making lesson plans that he may let his time with you slip a bit, but he always catches himself and for that you couldn't be more grateful.
suga's favorite form of affection is being wrapped all in you, feeling the warmth of your body curled up into his as you snuggle the morning away. he loves to press gentle kisses into your shoulder blades and the nape of your neck, appreciating the scent you have.
being this close to you brings him comfort, but he can't help but let his mind wander at times into more intimate forms of affection. right now, being curled against you with his chest pressed to your back had him reeling.
you were so cute like this, still lazily awaking and stirring ever so slightly against the straining hard-on against your back. he let out a groan, mostly out of frustration for himself. he knew you felt it, and his cheeks burned at the thought of making you uncomfortable.
"g'mornin' sleepyhead," you grinned, slotting your hips backward into him before turning over onto your stomach. he lazily drapes his arm over your waist, eyes crinkling as he smiled sweetly at you. "morning sugar, did you sleep well?" his voice is like honey, still dripping with remnants of slumber; it has your knees weak. you nod sheepishly, placing your hands on his chest and sliding up to kiss him softly.
koushi leans into the kiss, pulling your body closer to his as his lips move in time with yours. the plushness of your skin under his fingertips grounds him in the moment as he pants softly against your lips. his tongue slides over your bottom lip and you grant him permission to slide it into your mouth. your tongues move in sync against one another as you slide your body over his, and his arms encase you, pulling you even closer.
koushi breaks the kiss, panting softly as he stares lovingly at you, causing a blush to form on your cheeks. "such a pretty baby," he grins at you, and you hope he doesn't feel the swell of your cock against his thigh. he does. "do you wanna kiss some more, honey? there's plenty more where that came from, hm?" you give him a shaky nod, and go to part your lips but stop yourself.
koushi notices the uneasiness in your eyes, like you had something more to say, so he waits patiently. he peppers kisses along your wrists and fingers, and your cheeks warm at the familiar attentiveness of your loving boy. "whatcha thinkin' about pretty?" you sigh, head falling to avoid the eye contact. "how about I take care of you, baby? i can feel you getting hard for me. is that okay? can i take care of you?" you nod slowly, and his fingers slip under your chin and lift your head so that your eyes meet. with a cheeky smile he says, "use your words like a good boy." you blush deeply, confirming that you wanted him to touch you.
suga moves you to sit next to him, and he slowly slides your legs apart. he takes place between them, leaning forward to capture your lips in a passionate kiss. as your tongues move with one another, his hand snakes between you and slides over your inner thigh, inching closer to where you needed him most before moving away. with each stroke, you sighed into his mouth and it was music to his ears. "you're being so good," he muttered against your lips, hand halting right over the outline of your cock.
his hand slowly traced the outline as he began to pepper kisses down your jawline and along your neck, leaving kitten licks just below your ear with each slide of his hand. your hips moved to work with his hand, and he gave you a warning nip of the neck as a sign to behave. your hip movements stopped briefly until he picked up the pace, gliding along your hard cock at a more teasing pace. "take these boxers off, baby," he smiled against your neck, fingers slipped into the waistline and tugging them down.
the whine that left his lips when he saw your swollen tip oozing precum was embarrassing. "such a pretty boy, my good boy," he whispered softly as his hands ghosted over your thighs once more. his eyes met yours again, and he wore that charming smile you fell in love with. "you twitch each time i call you pretty baby. you like being praised, hm? like being called a good boy," he's teasing, but he means well. he lowers his body down yours, face becoming level with your cock. "s'pretty baby," he grins, tongue peeking out of his mouth as he swipes a drop of precum onto his tongue. the lewd action has your stomach turning, and you feel your body growing hot.
koushi lowers his mouth onto your throbbing length, being sure to watch the euphoric expression on your face as you bottom out in his throat. you whimper softly as he begins to bob his head rhythmically, and your hands tangle in his hair. "please," you moan softly, hips moving to meet each lowering of his mouth against you. he moans against your length, right hand moving to cup and massage your balls. "ngh, koushi, please~" you blush at the lewdness of your whines, hips moving on their own with the intensity of the pleasure. his eyes never leave you as he continues to bob, soft throat coaxing you closer to release.
koushi stops himself, wanting you to cum with him inside you. he pulls of your cock with a pop, wiping his sloppy mouth with the back of his hand as he grins at you cheekily. "so good for me, hm? d'ya want me inside you? wanna go all the way? remember, baby, you can say no." you nod eagerly, desperate to feel the stretch of him inside of your hole. your eyes track down his abdomen to his straining cock in his boxers, and he stops your hand before you can get a hold of him. "this is about you, lovely. i'll be right back," he grins.
koushi returns with a bottle of lube, and he blushes when he finds you on your back with your legs spread for him. "so good for me, y/n". he makes his way over to you, slather some lube onto his fingers, and then onto your puckering hole. "such a cute little hole, hm" you twitch at the comment, whining at your nonchalantly lewd lover. he giggles at your shyness, and rubs the back of your thighs lovingly. "gonna prep you first," he warns, sliding a finger into your tight hole. the feel of your walls clenching around his finger has him groaning and straining against his boxers. "so tight, y/n." he says sweetly, gently rubbing the back of your thighs to encourage you as he slides a second digit in.
you wince at the stretch, letting out a strangled whine. "'m sorry baby, I know it hurts," he whines, watching as your hole swallows his fingers with each thrust. he's mesmerized by you, by your softness and your willingness to trust him with your body in this way. koushi presses gentle kisses to your inner thighs as he continues moving his fingers in you, curling them gently to increase your pleasure. you whine again, feeling the familiar bubblings of an orgasm approaching. your cock twitches slightly at the feeling as your body begins to overheat once more. koushi pauses his movements to add another fingers, stretching you even more in an attempt to simulate his girth. your back arches, and you writhe under the pressure of being stretched so full, and he coos at you lovingly.
"you're close aren't you pretty? good boy," he smiles sweetly, laying his head on your inner thigh as he works his fingers for moments longer before pulling out sliding down his boxers. his cock springs free, pretty and heavy with desire. he hisses as the cool air hits his swollen tip, and your mouth waters at the oozing pre-cum. "baby, it's gonna sting a little," he warned, moving to slide his body between your legs, pressing your legs up slightly into your chest. you nod softly, bracing yourself for the sting of his cock splitting you open.
"three taps, and I'll stop, okay," he studies your face for a response and he sighs sweetly when he sees you nod so cutely. "please," you moan, hips moving up to brush his cock against your ass. he shakes his head softly at you with an adoring smile on his features. koushi coats his cock in lubricant and then your hole once more before lining up with his tip.
he presses in just enough for the tip to stretch your prepped hole, and you inhale sharply, hands moving to clutch his biceps. koushi's head falls back at the warmth, a helpless groan leaving his lips as he stills himself as you get comfortable with the stretch of him. he leans forward, pressing your legs slightly further inward so he can place gentle kisses as your cheeks and forehead. "doing so good, pretty boy," he praises, left hand moving to cup your cheek and smooth it over lovingly with his thumb. you whimper, keening into his touch as he moves his hips further into you, cock stretching you a bit more. you wince, tightening up at the burn of his girth, and he pauses once more, eyes scanning your features for any signs of pain or discomfort. he sees your eyes screwed shut, tears threatening to surface, and he places more reassuring kisses to your cheeks and forehead, praising you once more. you nod, pulling on his shoulders to bring him closer, force him deeper into you.
he grins against the skin of your neck, huffing at your neediness to be full. "such a good baby," he grunts, pressing the rest of his cock into you and you let out a cry at the fullness, back arching into him as your chests meet. he stills himself, groaning at the plushness of your walls, clenching around him as you pant beneath him. "please koushi, please," you beg, and he obliges you with slow, gentle thrusts. he leans his body up, propping it on both arms as he looks down at you sweetly, watching your face contort from sheer pleasure. you whine and moan with each thrust of his swollen tip against your insides, pushing you closer to that fuzzy feeling you'd been teased with earlier. koushi grunts softly with each movement, rolling his hips into you at a skilled pace that has his tip hitting your spot each time.
you strangle out a whimper of the closeness of your release, and he praises you once more for using your words like a good boy and replies that he, too, is close. your walls clench tighter around him as your cock twitches, and he feels himself about to paint your insides, hips colliding with yours at a faster pace that has you seeing stars. without warning, your release comes crashing down like a tidal wave, washing over you as you cum all over your abdomen. with each good boy baby your cock twitches through your orgasm, spurts of white coating your body as you feel the warmth of suga's release coating your insides. he lets out an animalistic grunt with the remnants of his release before he slowly pulls out of you, cum oozing from your stretched hole.
he places a kiss to your inner thighs once more, licking up the cum from your abdomen, before placing a kiss to your lips. "such a good baby, now it's time for a clean up," he smiles as you sigh softly.
412 notes · View notes
hangovercurse · 4 years ago
Text
Teeny Tiny Secret
After months of trying, you and Colson finally get those two pink lines… the day before tour starts.
Request: “I know that requests are closed, but I HAD to share this before it left my mind. When you have an opportunity, could you please write a story where y/n is in super early (not showing or anything) stages of pregnancy and on tour with mgk. She & Colson make a plan to keep it from the bandmates for now. It becomes difficult when he becomes super over protective (not letting her carry anything, not wanting the guys to crowd her), unconsciously put his hand on her stomach, and ordering non-alcoholic drinks for her. The band suspects something. Y/n talks with him to try to get him to calm down a little. It works until the guys ask you both about it directly and Colson's the first to crack.”
Colson Baker x Reader
Warnings: Cursing
A/N: Y’all are all up in that spring baby fever… this is like my 3rd or 4th baby request recently
Word Count: 2211
Tumblr media
You and Colson had been talking about having a second kid for months but stopped trying a few weeks before tour started. You didn’t think it had worked until you woke up three days before tour and rushed to the bathroom, morning sickness wrecking your body. Colson felt you getting out of bed and followed a few minutes later, tiredly. When he found you hunched over the toilet, his whole demeaner changed.
You knew for sure the day before tour, after multiple pregnancy tests you had gone to see an OBGYN for confirmation. Sure enough, you were pregnant. The universe sure knew the definition of ironic timing.
Colson’s immediate reaction was to have you stay home. “All the traveling and partying isn’t gonna be good for him.” He said, pacing around your bedroom while you laid on the bed. “Tour life is not good for babies.”
You raised your eyebrow, “him? It’s been one day and you’re already setting unrealistic expectations for our unborn child.” You joked, a small smile on your lips.
Colson’s mouth gaped before he continued, “Y/N, we need to be serious about this. You can’t come on tour if you’re pregnant.”
You rolled your eyes, “Colson, I am not letting you leave me here while I am pregnant. I’ll be fine. I won’t drink and I’ll take it easy. You just have to make sure the guys don’t smoke around me and we’ll be fine.”
His eyes went wide. “Shit, the boys.” He paused to think as confusion crossed you. “If the boys find out about this they’ll freak out and then the whole tour is gonna be a shit show.”
It was kind of funny how much more worried he was than you were. “Babe, come here.” You motioned for him to come sit in the bed with you to which he complied. You leaned your back against the headboard, expecting him to follow. Instead, he laid so his head was next to your stomach. He pressed a small kiss into it, making your heart fluttered, the reality of the situation hitting you and making you insanely happy. “Why are you so worried?” You asked him softly, combing your hand through his hair.
He reached, moving your shirt up so he could kiss your bare stomach. He mumbled against your skin, “I think I wanna keep this a secret for now.” You hummed and he continued, “just for us, y’know? I wanna enjoy this.”
You nodded, “I’m still coming on tour with you, though. I don’t wanna be alone right now.”
He smiled against your stomach, finally moving up to sit next to you, pulling you towards him for a soft kiss. His hand went to your stomach, rubbing circles into the skin. “I can’t believe we’re gonna have a fucking baby.”
You smiled against his lips, a thought popping into your head, “can we tell Casie at least?” His eyes lit up at your suggestion, a quick nod of his head affirming the idea.
 The next day was hectic, as all first days were. You had gotten a list of everything you could and couldn’t do from your doctor, and the all-clear to fly for the first trimester. So, you and Colson found yourself with the crew at LAX airport bright and early in the morning. Ashleigh passed you an itinerary, letting you know that you would all be meeting the bus in Cleveland, where the first show was.
Colson’s arm hadn’t left your waist since you got to the airport, holding you to his side all morning. Occasionally you could feel his thumb rubbing circles near your stomach, something that was definitely becoming a habit of his. At one point he ended up standing behind you, hands resting on your stomach as he held you against him. You tried not to give anything away, but you found it adorable how excited he was. He wanted to be as close to the unborn baby as possible at all times, his hands constantly near your middle.
Eventually you arrived in Cleveland, walking down the long hallway to the baggage claim, taking in the small Cleveland hall of fame that the airport had created. You spotted your suitcase and went to grab it, but Colson beat you to it. “I got it, babe.” He gave you a look that let you know you wouldn’t be carrying anything.
You sighed, “I can get it Colson.” He shrugged, grabbing his bag off of the carousel next. The man now had a large duffel bag slung over his shoulder and two suitcases in his hands. “Seriously, it’s not that heavy.”
He shook his head, “I’m not letting you carry anything heavy. I can do it.” You sighed but let him, knowing you wouldn’t win this battle.
Unbeknownst to you, Baze had seen the whole interaction and was very confused.
 Later, once you had arrived at the arena, you were hanging in the dressing room with Slim and Irv on the couch. You guys weren’t really talking about anything in particular, mostly just cracking jokes about Rook’s outfit for the night.
When the younger boy heard Slim say he looked like “if Willow Smith and Gerard Way were put into a blender,” he came over, blunt in his hand.
Rook started jokingly arguing with Slim and you were all laughing at his distress. In the middle of their argument, however, Colson came over and grabbed the blunt out of Rook’s hand. He put it out in an ashtray before returning to you, squeezing himself between you and Irv.
Everyone, including you, stared at him, dumfounded. “Dude why the fuck-“ Rook started, only for Colson to cut him off.
“You shouldn’t smoke in here.” He shrugged, arms wrapping around you. He squeezed your waist, letting you know why he really did it. You were somewhat thankful; smoke was bad for the baby. But there are less obvious ways to have gone about that.
Rook grumbled but didn’t attempt to light another one. Slim looked at you, an eyebrow raised in question. You shrugged your shoulders, pretending to act innocently naïve to Colson’s behaviors.
Eventually the three boys travelled from the couch, leaving you and Colson alone. “Babe, you gotta try and be a little more subtle about that shit.” You mumbled, turning to face him.
He scrunched his eyebrows, “he shouldn’t be smoking around you. What else was I supposed to do?”
You sighed, “I don’t know, but that wasn’t subtle. If you keep treating me differently, they’re gonna figure out that something’s up.”
Colson lets out a breath through his nose, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “I’m sorry, I just don’t want anything to happen to…” he trailed off, trying to keep a low profile.
“I know you’re just being careful. It’s sweet, and I really appreciate it. But either we tell the guys what’s going on or we figure out how to be more subtle.” You thought you guys were being quiet, but once again Baze was standing just within earshot, hearing your entire conversation.
 Colson demanded you stay backstage instead of in front of the gates like normal tours. “I don’t care if they think something’s up, you are not getting anywhere near that crowd.”
This was something you could actually agree on, not wanting any crazy fangirls to try and reach over the barricade and hurt you by accident (it had happened before). So, you were stood backstage before the concert, like normal, only this time you had a spot next to the stage picked out just for you to watch. Colson came over to you, jumping up and down in excitement.
You giggled at his happy demeanor, feeding off his energy. “Good luck kiss?” You offered to which he happily nodded. You pulled him in by his shoulders, intending to give him a soft kiss. Colson being Colson, however, decided that this was the perfect time for an extremely heated make out session.
You didn’t complain much as his hands explored your waist, paying special attention to your stomach, where a small bump would soon be forming. His lips against yours were heaven.
“Okay loverboy!” Ashleigh called, making him pull away from your lips but he kept himself close to you. “You’re on.”
He nodded towards her, giving you one last peck before running off to the stage. Before he left, his hands lingered on your stomach just a little longer than normal, his eyes glancing down to it for a split second.
Then you watched the love of your life run towards the stage, a grin on his face. “I love you!” You called. He turned to you right before he got on stage and mouthed the words back to you, knowing you couldn’t hear him anymore. You smiled, the sight of him living his dream making your heart melt.
Slim was on the side of the stage closest to you, and had caught the last moments of your intimacy, including Colson’s attention to your stomach. He perked and eyebrow at the sight but shook it off as Colson being into some weird new thing.
 After the show, everyone was hyped up on adrenaline and alcohol. The crew decided to move the party to a nearby club. Colson wanted to take you back to the bus and stay there with you all night, but you made him go. “Colson, I have been in this condition for all of 3 days. I am fine. You just finished the first show of your tour. We,” you pointed between the two of you, “are going out to celebrate, even if that means I can only drink water or pop.”
He rolled his eyes but gave in, letting you drag him down the street towards the rest of your friends. When you got to the club, you grabbed a table with Ash, Irv, Baze, and Slim while Colson took Rook to get drinks for everyone.
When the pair got back, they started handing out drinks. Colson set a glass of water in front of you, causing the group to raise eyebrows at you two, which you just shrugged off, sipping the water. As much as you would have loved to get wasted with your friends, you knew it would hurt the baby. You tried to act as nonchalant about it as possible, realizing that it was gonna be hard to hide your secret if you got water every time you went out.
This was going to be a long 9 months.
“I wanna dance.” Ashleigh said, grabbing Irv and Rook and dragging them to the floor. You grinned, about to stand up and join them when you felt a hand on your thigh. You turned towards Colson, who was currently stopping you from having fun, giving him a glare.
He shook his head slightly at you, leaning close to you to whisper in your ear. “There’s a lot of people here, I don’t want you to get hurt.”
You sighed and rolled your eyes, whispering back, “can you ease up a little bit, please? I’ll be careful. I want to have a little fun before I’m not able to move at all.”
His face was stern, the two of you having a silent argument with your eyes. You pleaded with him, trying to get him to crack but he just shook his head.
Meanwhile Baze and Slim watched you two, trying to figure out how the hell you were communicating without actually talking. “Is everything okay with you two?” Slim asked, pulling your attention to the two men.
You nodded, smiling, “yeah, we’re great.”
Baze cocked his head, “you sure? Because he’s” he pointed at Colson, “acting like you’re pregnant or something.”
You felt Colson’s hand on your thigh tighten, his entire body stiffening. You giggled, trying to play off the comment. Baze started laughing the moment he saw Colson’s expression, which you turned to see was like a deer caught in headlights. Slim’s eyes went wide, “holy shit, for real? Congrats guys!”
You laughed, rubbing Colson’s shoulder, “good job, babe. You did a great job at keeping this between us.”
He looked down at you with a sheepish expression, “sorry, I thought we were being subtle.” He mumbled and you laughed.
“Cols, I was being subtle. You were acting like I was gonna die if someone so much as touched me.” Slim and Baze chuckled at this, and you turned to explain. “We found out for sure yesterday and didn’t want anyone to get freaked out or throw off the tour or anything. So, Colson here,” your head nodded towards your boyfriend, “thought we could keep it a secret for now.”
He frowned, his friends still laughing at him. “Dude, you are the worst secret keeper ever, man.” Baze said. “It took one push and you cracked.” You giggled, nodding your head in agreement. “But seriously, congrats guys.”
“Thanks, B.” You said, “but listen, both of you. If anyone on this tour tells me what I can and can’t do because I’m pregnant, I’ll cut their dick off.” The two boys nodded in understanding.
“Am I really that bad at keeping secrets?” Colson asked, still upset that he spilled.
You giggled and nodded, “Yeah, darling. You are.”
397 notes · View notes
quokkacore · 4 years ago
Text
please don’t bite [wong yukhei] (m)
part of the wasn’t on pawpose collab
summary: you’d always prided yourself on being able to read people well and managing yourself as an independent hybrid in a world that was still getting over that. but when lucas, your best friend, manages to get himself turned into a wolf hybrid, it has you second-guessing everything you thought you knew about yourself, him, and the both of you, together. 
pairing: wolfhybrid!lucas x bunnyhybrid!femreader
genre: friends to enemies to lovers, fluff, smut, angst, thriller if you squint
warnings: language, lucas is a bit of a dick, medical experimentation, mentions of sexual harassment, knotting, breeding kink, mating cycles, degradation (use of the word bitch to be specific), dirty talk, biting, marking, size kink, possessiveness, jealousy, mentioned doyoung x reader, momentarily dubious consent, stomach bulging, slight predator x prey dynamic between lucas and reader
song rec: troye sivan - bite ♡ wonder girls - why so lonely  ♡ neon trees - everybody talks  ♡ harry styles - cherry  ♡ the 1975 - tonight (i wish i was your boy)  ♡ sunmi - 24/7  ♡ loona (jinsoul)  - singing in the rain ♡ fall out boy - hold me tight, or don’t  ♡ wayv - bad alive
word count: 17.6k
a/n: this turned out a lot longer and a lot angstier than i expected. also.... dont ask where yukhei’s human ears went. i don’t know either :P
Tumblr media
masterlist
You were going to kill Lee Taemin, if the dean of your university didn’t do it first. This was all his fault. 
It all started at the beginning of the semester, when Lucas, your best friend and roommate, had told you during dinner he was helping your older friend, Taemin with an experiment for his Ph.D. You'd expected him to say he'd be handing out surveys on Main Street or trying some new diet and writing down the effects, or something along those lines. 
Nope, not at all. What he really said had thrown you for a loop. “Actually, I’m gonna be trying out some hybrid hormone pills he’s been working on that have finally been cleared for human testing.”
You’d choked on the pizza you were eating. “You’re going to do what!?” You cried when you finally managed to swallow your food.
“Dude, chill,” He answered, large hands waving back and forth passively, “Taemin hyung is 99% percent sure that they’re absolutely safe. I’m just supposed to go in for testing once a week and write down any side effects I feel, which, according to him, should be at most three or four, and they’re not even that major.”
“Okay…” You’d answered, quirking your head. You were still slightly wary, your ears twitching. "And Taemin's like, completely sure they're safe to eat?" 
Lucas nodded, demeanor completely casual. His calm expression did nothing to deter your concerns, mind going a mile a minute when a new thought popped into your mind.
“Yukhei, what kind of hybrid hormones are you even taking? Predator hybrids or prey hybrids?”
His smile had disappeared slightly, and his eyes left your face to stare down at his plate. Your stomach sank, and your foot started tapping in distress.
“Wong Yukhei. What kind of hormones are they gonna give you.”
“They’re, uh… alpha wolf hormones.”
Your eyes widened, and he rushed to placate you. “Y/N, bunny, calm down. I know how you feel about predator hybrids, but I wouldn’t be doing this if I thought there was something weird about this whole thing. The dean is breathing down Taemin’s neck telling him not to fuck it up. Trust me, he wouldn’t be doing this if he wasn’t absolutely certain that it was safe.”
You chewed on your lips, before sighing. “Please be careful, Xuxi. You’re my best friend. I don’t want you to hurt yourself all because Taem wants to find a way to get taller after puberty.”
Lucas had laughed, glad that the mood in your kitchen had shifted from tense to slightly less tense. He grabbed your hand, your eyes dropping to glance at it for a second, before looking him in his eyes. “If you want… He told me earlier he’d be at the lab until like, midnight. Maybe we could go pay him a visit, and he can explain everything better, you know?”
You pursed your lips, glancing at the clock. It was almost eight. After a few seconds, you huffed, and nodded, the tension finally diffusing.
“Alright, alright, let me get my jacket.”
He grinned at you, and you flashed him a smile back, automatically endeared at his goofy expression as he disappeared to gather his things. You smiled to yourself, looking down at your hands which had fallen into your lap, sighing.
Too cute. He's too cute.
The walk to the campus lab took about fifteen minutes, maybe less. Lucas, despite being taller than you, actually walked at a much more snail-like pace, and thus fell victim to your playful teasing over his slow walk.
"You're part bunny," He pointed out, eyes briefly glancing at the white rabbit ears poking out from your hair, "You have that natural spring in your step."
"Bull," You countered with a smile, turning to face him, now walking backwards, "They disproved the whole ‘rabbit hybrids run faster than humans’ theory years ago. You just suck at walking, Xuxi."
"You just suck at walking, Xuxi," Lucas grumbled, mocking your tone, but there was no malice behind it. You laughed, turning as he took a few quicker strides to catch up. His hand came up to pat the spot between your fluffy ears at the top of your head, and you hummed in satisfaction as the door of the chemistry department finally came into view. 
The ride up the elevator was quiet. You were still slightly uneasy, ears twitching, something Lucas easily picked up on. He flashed you a soft smile, pulling you closer.
“Everything will be fine, bunny. I promise.”
You nodded, pressing your head against his shoulder. You took a deep breath, taking in Lucas’s distinct scent of cinnamon. “I’m sorry I blew up at you earlier… But you gotta admit, it sounds risky. And with the side effects, I thought maybe it would affect behaviot, and a lot of predator hybrids are just huge dicks, sometimes, especially around prey hybrids, you know? They’re creepy and asshole-ish and, well, you remember the snow leopard guy we met at The Burrow a few months ago, right?”
Lucas’s eyes darkened, recalling the time you had to mace a hybrid at a bar because the guy was getting handsy with you, despite the fact that you had made it incredibly clear that you weren’t interested. He nodded, staring at his feet.
“I don’t want any of Taemin’s weird science hurting you or affecting your behavior.”
He nodded, eyes sympathetic. “I totally get it. But like I said earlier, I wouldn’t be doing this if I didn’t trust hyung with it 100%, or if I thought that it could hurt me or you in any way. You’re my bunny, you know? I would never do anything to hurt you.” 
“I know, I know, Xuxi, and I trust you… But I will cut Taemin’s legs off if you die.”
He shook his head, his amused smile growing lopsided on his features.
Finally, the elevator made a ding! and the doors slid open. The hallway was lit with industrial fluorescent lights, much brighter than the warm light of the elevator.
Lucas’s larger hand grabbed yours, leading you down the hallway. 
“I don’t even remember the last time I saw Taem,” You mumbled, not really thinking about the topic, “It’s like he lives here now.”
“Yeah, I know,” Lucas replied, “Baekhyun hyung’s been begging him to just let it go for at least a night, but he’s obsessed.”
A few doors later, and you finally arrived at the one indicating it was the floor’s chemistry lab, and Lucas knocked once, twice, before a soft, muffled voice said, “Come in!”
Lucas opened the door, letting you step in first before following suit and closing the door behind him. On the other end of the lab, stood a thin, short man facing away from the both of you, typing away at a laptop. You knew it was Taemin, he smelled like Taemin, but your mind didn’t immediately register that it was him; his ashy blond hair was up in a hairnet, he was wearing a long lab coat, and there were blue latex gloves covering his hands. 
“Hyung?” Lucas asked, and the typing stopped abruptly as Taemin turned, took in the sight of the both of you, before flashing a gummy smile. 
“Hey! Y/N, long time, no see. And Yukhei!! Just the person I wanted to talk to.” His tone was pleasant, excited. “I wanted to talk to you about your hormone treatment.” 
“That’s great, because we wanted to talk to you about it also.”
Taemin furrowed his eyebrows, giving a slight shake of his head. His eyes flicked back and forth between you and Lucas. “We?”
Your eyes widened before holding out your hands. You exchanged a brief look with Lucas, whose ears were a bright red. 
“I wanted to know about the whole wolf hormone thing because… you know. Well, you know how we live together, and prey hybrids and predator hybrids don’t really get along well, you know? I mean, I know that it’s just hormones, but… should we be worried about anything? Should I be worried?”
Taemin’s mouth dropped open slightly as he registered what you said, and he shut his eyes before shaking your head.
“No, not at all! I totally understand your concerns, Y/N. We’re using several different test subjects for the human testing, all with different circumstances, but they’re our ‘demographic’ when it comes to using the treatment. A few are hard of hearing, others have suffered physical trauma in their legs or arms, some have poor eyesight. Our intention with using wolf hormones is to see if it can be used as adequate treatment for specific disabilities.”
“Lucas doesn’t have any of those things?” You said, confused. You glanced at Lucas, who was still watching Taemin, before the latter spoke again.
“He’s part of a separate group, people who have no major medical ailments or physical disabilities. We want to see what the effects could be on the statistically average human.���
You nodded, still feeling slightly uneasy despite Taemin’s otherwise chipper attitude. “So the expected changes are going to be mostly physical? No behavioral side effects?” 
“A few behavioral side effects, but nothing major. Increased appetite, irritability, high energy, maybe increased libido. Nothing too major. Mostly we’re trying to see if he gets stronger, or if his hearing and eyesight improve… I understand you feel worried, Y/N, but the members of my research team and I have been working around the clock to make sure that these pills are absolutely safe for human consumption. From our research, there’s like, a 98.7% chance that nothing other than the expected side effects will show up, and those aren’t really behavioral at all.”
“Why not 100%?” You asked, eyes shifting back and forth uneasily.
Taemin grimaced, gaze sympathetic as he exchanged a look with Lucas, and then with you. “Well, nothing is ever 100% confirmed, so science doesn’t really lend itself to certainty, y’know?”
Tumblr media
That had been two months ago.
For the first two weeks, everything seemed like it would be fine. Lucas’s only complaints about the hormone pills were that they made his hair grow a bit faster and that they were so big that they were hard to swallow. Then… things started to happen.
First, he started to eat a whole lot more. Every time you saw him between classes, he seemed to be chewing on something. You were grateful he wasn’t touching your food, because he seemed to only ever be eating meat.
“Didn’t Taemin say I’d probably get hungrier?” He asked one night, eating a ham sandwich as he sat on the couch. You were resting your head on his thigh, scrolling through Instagram while hoping that any crumbs wouldn’t fall into your hair or your ears.. You set down your phone, blinking as you tried to remember, before nodding. 
“Yeah, he did. Shouldn’t you write that down?”
“Uhh… Yeah.” He stood, you sitting up, and walked towards his room, probably to do as you suggested, before he called out to you one last time. He at least had the decency to look a bit sheepish.
“Hey bunny, can you, uh, order some Chinese food?”
Then he started complaining about loud noises. However, from what you could tell, there were no loud noises at all. Your rabbit ears, from what you understood, had similar hearing to that of humans, only you were slightly more sensitive to higher frequencies. So you were incredibly confused when Lucas barged in while you were pacing in your room, going over flashcards for an exam, dark eyes glaring at you. He seemed slightly ticked off.
“Can you please stop stomping around in here? I’m trying to finish a paper.”
Your eyebrows furrowed, and you glanced down at your feet, which were covered by a pair of fuzzy socks. “Uhh, I’m not stomping?”
He cocked an eyebrow. “Y/N, I’m serious, stop yelling. This paper is due tomorrow and it’s like 15% of my final grade.” 
“And I’m serious too?” Your tone was perplexed, because you weren’t yelling at all, “I was just pacing, Xuxi, like this.”
You took a few steps back and forth to show him, footsteps light, barely audible, and his face scrunched up in discomfort. 
“But… it’s so loud. It’s giving me a headache.”
You made a face, before your eyebrows shot up, and your ears did as well. 
“Do you think it’s because of the hormones?” You asked, lowering your voice so it was just above a whisper, “Taemin said that would probably happen, remember? Wolves have crazy hearing.”
He opened his mouth to answer, before closing it again. He flashed you a weird look, before shaking his head. “Okay...? I’ll tell hyung that it’s working… But like, can you please just sit down while you study?” 
You nodded, sympathetic, and he closed the door. But a few seconds later, he reopened it. He looked a bit confused. “Is that… new perfume?”
It was your turn to make a face at him. “Huh?”
He shook his head, still looking confused. “Uh, nothing,” He mumbled, waving a dismissive hand, “Never mind. Forget I asked.” 
He closed the door a final time, and you were left even more weirded out than you already were. 
Somehow, he got even taller than he already was. A few days later when you were making breakfast for the both of you and you had your back turned, he came and hugged you from behind, still addled with sleep. You paid him no mind, continuing your task. One of his arms wrapped itself around your neck, almost as if he were trying to put you into a loving headlock, something he often did. In response, you did what you often did whenever he did so, which was to nuzzle your chin against his forearm.
"Good morning," He hummed, voice deep and raspy, “That smells good."
“For you,” You answered, scrunching up your nose as you turned over the bacon, “I feel like you forget sometimes that my genes make me a herbivore, Xuxi.”
Lucas stepped away, and you frowned at the loss of warmth. “Eh, sometimes. Do you want me to grab a plate?”
You set down the spatula before turning off the stove, as you turned to face him. 
“You can serve yours—oh my god.”
You had lifted your head to where you usually did to look up at Lucas, and for some reason, had only been met with his neck. You craned your neck back even further, and met his eyes, which held a confused look, eyebrows furrowed, mouth agape. 
“Did you get… smaller?”
“No,” You mumbled, still in disbelief, “I think you got… bigger. H-how tall exactly were you again?”
“Uh, 1.83 meters.”
You nodded, closing your mouth. “Yeah, you’re definitely more than that now.”
Lucas peered down at you, gaze slightly concerned. “This is starting to get really weird. Should I write this down?”
You frowned, looking him up and down. The shirt he’d went to bed with, an oversized white tee, now fit him better. “Yukhei, at this point, I think you should go see Taemin. Did he even mention growth spurts?”
Lucas blinked, before pushing the hair out of his still puffy, sleep ridden eyes. “Hmm, I don’t think he did. I’ll eat breakfast and then go see him.”
According to Lucas, when he’d gotten back, Taemin had been over the moon when he’d measured him and found he’d grown almost 11 centimeters in his sleep, now standing at 1.94 meters. 
Everything had been somewhat tolerable. Not yet batshit insane. Lucas’s mood swings were relatively easy to handle as long as you left him alone whenever he seemed pissy, and he always apologized afterwards. He started staying up even later, but you didn’t really mind since he did his best not to be too loud. 
Sure, the fact that his hair started growing faster and ended up in the shower drain when he decided to “manscape” (his words, not yours) was gross, but bearable. His random bursts of energy, making him even more eccentric than he already was, were kind of like babysitting a huge, five year old Lucas doped up on caffeine. Which, while a bit more tiring to put up with, had not yet crossed into uncanny territory.
Yet. 
It all came to a head one Sunday morning, when Lucas had woken you up when he started screaming from the bathroom. You were woken from your peaceful slumber, and immediately stumbled out of bed to see what was going on, tripping on your way out the door in your panic.
“Yukhei!?” You shouted, slamming the door open. Your eyes were wide. Your heart was racing. Immediately your nose was hit with a strange odor. That put you even more on edge than you already were. Your eyes scanned the small bathroom in a haste. Your eyes fell to the corner. There, was Lucas, huddling. Knees to his chest, hands covering the top of his head, trembling and babbling incoherently, the sound muffled by the fact that his face was buried somewhere in between his knees and his chest.
“Y-Yukhei?” You repeated again, this time quieter, breathing heavily, anxiously. Was he having a panic attack? Was this a side effect of the treatment? “C-can I come closer?”
He trembled, not giving you an answer, still mumbling to himself. He seemed almost catatonic. Swallowing the lump in your throat at seeing your closest friend like this, you steeled yourself. Crouching, and slowly making your way to him, you cautiously held out an arm, and slowly, slowly, touched his hand.
He immediately flinched away, your heart dropping at his action. He sniffled, letting out a little sob, and tears sprung into your eyes. You blinked them away as best you could. He needed someone to lean on, and you couldn’t do that if you were an emotional mess.
“No, no,” He cried, voice small. “Please, stay away.”
“Yukhei,” You murmured, voice wavering, “I’m not gonna leave you like this. W-what’s wrong? Tell me Xuxi, please. You’re scaring me.”
“Y-you’ll hate me.”
You gasped quietly, resting your hand on his. “Xuxi… I could never hate you.”
“Even looking like this!?” He snapped harshly, lifting his gaze, dropping his arms, and you fell back onto your butt in shock. Your mouth fell open, eyes wide, white ears stood at full attention.
You peered into Lucas’s teary, red rimmed eyes. Only they weren’t Lucas’s eyes. Lucas’s eyes had always been a deep, rich brown, reminiscent of the earth. But these eyes were a bright, glowing amber, seeming almost radioactive in how much brighter they were than Lucas's old eye color. 
Your mouth moved as you scrambled to say something, but no sound came out. Your eyes caught the attention of something twitching atop Lucas’s head, and you blinked dumbly, taking in the salt and pepper pointy ears peeking out between his caramel colored hair, before scanning his entire body and taking in the thick tail swishing back and forth behind him.
The blood in your body ran cold as you took a deep breath through the nose. Lucas’s signature scent of cinnamon was still there, but now overpowered by the strange odor from earlier. You realized with a chill that the scent was earthy, musky, a smell you were no stranger to as a hybrid. Your animal instincts automatically kicked in, whispering in your mind: predator. wolf. danger. danger. danger.
 “I…” Your voice was hoarse as you pushed yourself up onto the balls of your feet, inching closer towards him slowly, despite the hairs on your neck standing straight up and telling you to run far, far away. 
“Y-Yukhei, what happened?”
He shook his head, shaking like a leaf. “I don’t know,” He mumbled in a daze, and although he was staring at you with those strange yellow eyes, you got the impression from the blank look in them that he wasn’t really looking at you. “I woke up, and I c-came in here and I looked in the mirror and…”
He didn’t finish, but you got the point. You pursed your lips, before making your way towards him, but he let out a groan and you froze in your spot as he knocked his head against the wall, eyes fluttering shut. 
“What is that smell?” He growled, “Why do you smell like that?”
“Like what?” You asked quietly, anticipating his answer. He shook his head, cracking his eyes open ever so slightly to peer at you. His gaze seemed to freeze you in place. 
“Like… jasmine? I mean, it’s so strong…”
You stared at him, wide-eyed, unable to tell him that that was your characteristic scent as a hybrid. You were still reeling from the fact that Lucas, who up until yesterday, aside from a few obnoxious habits, had been very human, was now a hybrid just like you, with ears and a tail and…
You glanced down at his gritted teeth, taking note of the very, very sharp canines that had seemingly grown overnight. 
You gulped, looking up at him. His wide eyes showed you that he was just as terrified as you were, and you swallowed back your wariness when your heart clenched at the sight. He needed help more than you needed comforting.“We need to get you to Taemin. Now.”
You had to force Lucas into his car, which was not easy in his dazed state, considering he was so much bigger than you. Towering over you, pure muscle, and basically a limp rag doll. In your panic, you’d forgotten your phone, your pants, and to give Lucas some shoes. You did the driving despite the fact that it was his car. He still seemed too frazzled to do so, so you buckled him up and started the ten minute drive to Taemin’s apartment.  
On the way, you did your best to ignore the situation at hand. That just because Lucas was a predator hybrid now didn’t automatically make him like the rest of them. Lucas wasn’t like the pervy fox hybrids who would follow you for blocks when you were in high school. He wasn’t like the snow leopard you’d forced off of yourself. He was Lucas, he was Yukhei. He was your Xuxi, and you needed to repeat yourself that he wouldn’t hurt a fly. 
The silence in the car was tense. You were sure that with his heightened senses, Lucas could hear everything, and you didn’t want to say anything to upset him further. He didn’t say anything to you. You didn’t say anything to him. And when you parked in front of Taemin’s apartment building, you got him out of the car, and grabbed him by the hand to walk to the door.
You were grateful it was Sunday morning. There weren’t that many people out on the street as you tapped your foot impatiently, pressing the button to buzz the comm on Taemin’s apartment incessantly. The few people that did pass were more focused on your sleep-addled bedhead and bare feet than anything else, and you thanked the universe for the fact that your oversized sleep shirt fell to your mid thighs. 
“It’s eight in the morning. Literally what do you want,” A deep, groggy voice grumbled, and you rolled your eyes. Finally.
“It’s Y/N and Lucas,” You said into the speaker, pressing a hand to your forehead in frustration. “You need to see this, now.”
 “Uhh, it’s Jongin,” The voice mumbled, and your eyes squeezed shut. He sounded so hungover. And whenever Jongin was hungover, that probably meant Taemin was hungover as well, and that it was generally Baekhyun’s idea. 
“Wake Taem up, please, Nini,” You pleaded desperately. “It’s life or death.”
“Fine, fine, okay. Come on up.”
When you made it up to their floor, a bedraggled Jongin opened the door. He was shirtless, his hair was sticking up in random spots, his face was still puffy, and he didn’t look happy to be woken up.
He looked you up and down, eyebrows furrowing at your appearance. “I swear this had better be good,” He told you, before turning to look at Lucas, “or I’m gonna—”
Jongin cut himself off as he registered the pointy ears, the fluffy tail, and the glowing yellow eyes. His eyes widened, certainly looking more awake now. His mouth started moving, but no sound came out.
“I—uh—is this why—?”
“Get Taemin,” You snapped, ready to kill him. You were furious, to say the least, ready to barge in and kick Taemin’s ass. This was his fault, all in the name of mad science. But then you added softly, voice wavering, “I don’t know what to do.”
For someone who almost never stopped talking, Taemin had nothing to say, for once. Instead, his eyes turned wide as saucers, his eyebrows jumped up to his hairline, and you were sure that if his jaw could have dropped any lower, it would have fallen below sea level. When he finally did manage to speak, his voice was small and unsure, and he never stopped gawking at the ears on Lucas’s head.
“Uh… Y-Y/N, Jongin, could you give us a minute, please?” 
So you did, letting them walk off to Taemin’s bedroom, and as Jongin sat you down on the couch to make you some tea, Baekhyun emerged from his own bedroom. Baekhyun at least looked a bit more awake than the dynamic duo, who, in their hungover state, both looked like the walking dead. 
“Y/N?” He asked, seeing you on the couch. He had a small but confused smile on his face. “What are you doing here…?”
“You’re not gonna believe what Taemin did to Yukhei,” Jongin’s voice declared from the kitchen. Baekhyun furrowed his eyebrows, craning his head once, to look at Taemin’s shut door, again, to look at Jongin standing at the cupboard, and then to you, sitting on the couch with a blank stare on your face.
Baekhyun blinked. “Shit, did he kill him?” 
You pursed your lips, staring at him wide eyed, eyebrows furrowed. Your look was meant to convey something along the lines of, you’ve got to be kidding me. And by the way Baekhyun grimaced at himself a few moments later, broad shoulders scrunching up, he got the message loud and clear.
“Sorry. Just trying to lighten the situation, I guess?”
“Not helping, hyung,” Jongin huffed as he made his way over to you, handing you the warm mug of tea. You accepted it with a quiet “thanks,” before blowing on the tea and taking a quick sip. 
“What even happened?” Jongin’s deep voice was quiet, concerned. He sat down next to you, and Baekhyun sat down on your other side.
So you told the story from the beginning of the treatment, all the way up to when you decided to bring Lucas to Taemin. The hearing, the growth spurt, his mood swings. They listened, nodding along to the story and thankfully, not interrupting. From Baekhyun, at least, that was surprising. 
When you finished, you looked at them, then at your tea, which didn't feel as hot anymore. You lifted the mug to your lips, relishing the warm chamomile taste as Baekhyun opened his mouth to speak. Still not very comforting, but at least you were filling your stomach with something.
"Wow…" He mumbled, still in slight disbelief. "So, Yukhei's a hybrid now?"
“I guess. I don’t know.” Your voice sounded empty. 
Jongin sighed, gaze pensive. “What’s gonna happen between the two of you, though? You live together. You of all people know that prey hybrids and predator hybrids, living together in tiny spaces don’t really mix well.”
You frowned, settling the mug down on their coffee table. “It’s not like he’s gonna become one of those asshole-y hybrids overnight, y’know?” “Didn’t you say he snapped at you this morning?” Baekhyun asked, tilting his head. “You said he was having mood swings, too.” 
You shook your head, fluffy ears flattening against it as the stress seemed to accumulate in your body. “It wasn’t like that. I think he was just freaked out. And as for his mood swings… I don’t know.”
An awkward silence filled the room, and you gazed at your hands on your lap. 
“Uh, Y/N…” Jongin mumbled, tips of his ears a bright red, “A-are you wearing pants?”
“Oh,” You answered dumbly, feeling your face heat up, “Um… No? I kind of panicked and, uh, forgot to put some on.”
Jongin stood, holding out a hand. “Come on, you can borrow one of mine. You must be cold, right?”
You nodded, glancing at Baekhyun, who had a sympathetic smile on his face. You looked back to Jongin, and took his hand to stand up. He pulled you toward his room, trying to make you smile by telling you about his drunken escapades with Baekhyun and Taemin during karaoke. 
“Baekhyun almost got us kicked out while he was singing some Mamamoo song,” He said with a laugh, “You know how loud he gets.”
You smiled, giggling quietly as he opened a drawer, searching for something you could wear. After a few moments of fumbling around, he pulled out a pair of gray sweatpants, and shuffled towards you. 
“So,” You said, reaching for the fabric, “I’m guessing you and Taemin did your usual rendition of Fergali—”
The sound of a door opening across the hall interrupted you, one ear lifting as you turned your head. Taemin emerged, Lucas trailing behind him. Taemin had changed out of his pajamas and was now wearing some jeans and a t-shirt. Your eyes immediately met Lucas’s, but a second after, his eyes fell to Jongin, then the pair of pants you were reaching out for, then back to you. His gaze was hollow, unreadable, but his eyes still shone bright amber. Jongin tucked the fabric into your hands, and took a step away from you. He cleared his throat awkwardly.
“Hey, man, how are you doing?”
“Not really good, if I’m honest,” Lucas answered, practically glaring at the older man. You frowned at his tone. He was rarely this quiet.
“I did a quick check-up,” Taemin declared, “I don’t see any immediate risk, he seems to be safe for now.”
Your shoulders sagged, as you sighed in relief, tension leaving your body.
“But I’m still taking him to the lab,” Taemin said, eyes serious. “We never foresaw these... mutations. I need to run some tests and contact the team and the other test subjects. Y/N, you can stay here if you want, I don’t think Jongin and Baek hyung would mind—” 
“Head home, Y/N,” Lucas interjected, deep voice serious and clipped. He kept shifting his eyes in between you and Jongin. “I woke you up, you should go get some more sleep.”
The deep authority in his voice startled you. A small thought crossed your mind, submit, obey, and you realized that these were your rabbit instincts kicking in as it registered a predator in your midst. And that only happened when predator hybrids used a specific tone of speech, one used only to take command over a situation with other hybrids. It was a bit hard to disobey, but not impossible. With a chill, you realized he was probably doing this subconsciously. 
This wasn’t how things were supposed to work, not with Lucas. Yes, Lucas had become this thing that you’d been told to fear, but it wasn’t necessarily him. You blinked, looking at Jongin, then at Taemin. You realized that Taemin and Jongin were staring at each other awkwardly, before looking at Lucas again. Despite your sleepy state, you knew your anxiety wouldn’t let you rest. And to be frank, you didn’t want to be alone after what had happened. “I could wait for you here, Xuxi, and then we could head back home together—”
“I can drop him off at your place!” Taemin said, an awkward smile plastered on his face. “It’s no problem, you should head on home…” You furrowed your eyebrows, before nodding slowly at having your actions countered.
“Huh,” You answered slowly, remembering all of the times Taemin had gotten pissy about giving you and Lucas a ride home (gas money, he complained), even though his apartment wasn’t that far from yours, “Okay…? I’ll head home in a little bit. You guys be careful.”
Lucas nodded, face not changing. He was upset, you could tell, but he was completely justified, given everything that he’d been through. You didn’t appreciate him taking it out on everyone around him, though. 
“Yukhei, let’s go.” Taemin seemed all too eager to drag Lucas away, and you watched, bewildered at the strange shift in energy between the three men. You’d known Jongin and Taemin since your freshman year of college, and Lucas since junior year of high school. Never had you seen the three of them act like this.
You turned to Jongin once you heard the front door close. He was shifting back and forth awkwardly. “That was… weird.”
“Well,” He said, scratching at the back of his neck, “This whole morning has been a bit weird, don’t you think?”
You gave a sardonic smile, trying to figure out how to explain your thoughts. “I mean, yeah, but… I don’t know. Regardless of that, everything just seemed off between the three of you.”
Jongin’s eyes met yours. He looked a bit taken aback.
“You can’t be serious.”
You shook your head. “What?”
Jongin’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh my god,” He muttered, more to himself, “You really don’t know.”
“Jongin, what?”
“Yukhei likes you,” Jongin confessed, rubbing at his chin, “He has for years.”
Your ears shoot straight up, eyes widening. Immediately your face heated up, and your free hand shot upwards, waving them back and forth.
"What? Huh? No. No, no, no. We’re just—" 
“Yeah, yeah, I know,” He countered, “You’re friends. But he wants to be more. He’s told me so, several times.”
When you didn’t answer, he walked around you to sit on his bed. He sighed, looking upwards as he gathered his thoughts, trying to figure out what to say. 
“Y/N, you’re smart. And you’re an independent person, and you value that because of how some people still treat hybrids. Especially prey hybrids. I know that. You know  that. Yukhei knows that. But…” He sighed again, shaking his head.
“You don’t see the way he looks at you when you’re not looking. He… he looks at you like you’re the only person in the world, or like you invented pizza, or something. And right now, his behavior…”
He groaned in exasperation, and you raised an eyebrow. “What?”  
“I don’t know how to put it other way than territorial,” He grumbled with a frown, “The way he was acting was like that look, but more aimed at me. Like, she’s the only one I see, don’t look at her the way I do. And I’m no expert on hybrid behavior, but…”
You didn’t know what to think, but you completed his thought anyway. 
“...You think Lucas was acting possessive.”
“I don’t think, I know,” He said, “He seemed really standoffish, and you should be careful. Not because he’s dangerous—this is Yukhei we’re talking about—but because it might strain your friendship.”
You remained silent for a few seconds, absorbing everything he’d told you. 
You didn’t want to believe him. 
Tumblr media
You went home not much later, trying to process everything you’d seen and heard that morning in the silence of the car as you drove through traffic, still pantsless. You didn’t feel comfortable accepting Jongin’s pants after everything he’d pointed out in Lucas’s behavior.
Lucas, your mind continued to think, Lucas, Lucas, Lucas, Lucas.
You’d known Lucas for so long at this point, he’d always just been your best friend. You’d never really wanted anything else from him.
You knew people had been expecting the two of you to get together for years. Your friends had told you, your family had told you, and now, his friends had told you that there was something going on between you and him. And every time, you’d been adamant to deny it. No, he’s like my brother. No, he’s my best friend. No, I don’t see him that way. No, he’s seeing someone. No, I don’t have time for a relationship, anyway. 
Lucas was attractive, you knew that. You had eyes. You had ears. Regardless of his looks, he was effortlessly charming and funny, and that would make anyone attractive. You saw how people swooned and fawned over him, despite him rarely being interested. But he’d always just been your best friend, the one who supported you through everything and made you laugh on your darkest days. And from living with him for the past few years, you considered it a bit awkward to be attracted to someone after seeing them scratch their ass as nonchalantly as possible in front of you as he had. 
That was until this morning, when he’d spoken using that tone of voice. You still weren’t sure how to feel about that. It gave you the chills, but... not in the way you’d expected. Something instinctual had begged you to submit to him. That didn’t usually happen to you when you heard other hybrids used that tone. Usually, you would feel a small tug in your gut, maybe a small flutter of anxiousness, but most of the time all it achieved was a roll of your eyes. But not with him. Not with Lucas.
You thought about it the entire way home. You thought about it on the way up to your apartment. You thought about it as you crawled into your bed, closed your eyes, and finally allowed your mind to be at peace once more. You slept until noon, then made yourself some lunch, showered, and worked on a few assignments you had for your classes.
Lucas came home several hours later, just before 7 PM. He no longer seemed as tense as this morning, but tired, instead. You didn’t blame him. His eyes had faded back to their warm, welcoming shade of brown, which didn’t surprise you. Wolf hybrids’ eyes tended to glow like that whenever they were on edge about something.
“How are you doing?” You asked, as he sat down on the couch. “Is everything alright?”
Slowly, you sat down next to him, wondering if he’d still be snappy as he had this morning. His neck turned to look down at you, and with a deep sigh, he nodded. 
“Medically, I’m sound. They still need to run a few tests, to see if this is something permanent, or not. I’ve been ordered to stop taking the pills, for now.”
You nodded, giving him a small smile out of relief. 
“Thank god,” You murmured, “I was worried about that. But how are you doing?”
He swallowed, his adam’s apple bobbing as he did so. He shrugged, pursing his lips. His body shifted towards you, and before you knew it, he’d tackled you into a hug, burying his face into your neck. He seemed to be holding back tears again, and your eyes fluttered shut as he spoke again. “Honestly? I don’t know,” He said, voice small and muffled against your skin, “Things like this are so… different. I found out several things have changed basically overnight.”
“Like what?” Your arms came to wrap around him, trying to calm him down.
“Fuck, I don’t even know. Like, I can smell so much more, now. I can see in the dark, apparently? I can hear so much, Y/N. I’ve been poked and prodded all day and no one knows if this is gonna go away and I’m just… I’m scared.”
He shook his head, shifting to bury his head again, but this time into the other side of your neck. Your hand began to comb through his hair, trying to avoid touching the furry ears that now resided atop his head.
You shook your head, humming. You rested your chin against his shoulder, nuzzling into his form, and his large hands rose to your waist, arms wrapping around it. You looked down when you saw vague movement from below your gaze, and smiled to yourself when you saw Yukhei's tale wagging with contentment. 
“Everything will work out fine, Yukhei,” You whispered, “What matters now is that you’re safe, you’re healthy. You’re so strong, Xuxi. Whatever life throws at you, even if it knocks you down, you always get up with that big smile of yours and keep going.”
He nodded against your neck, cuddling even closer to you. “Thank you,” He answered, before pulling his head away. His eyebrows were furrowed, dark eyes peering into yours from above you. 
“This morning,” He mumbled, “When you were in Jongin hyung’s room. I said something. And I don’t know what it was but it felt…” 
You forced your face to remain blank and expressionless, and broke eye contact, trying to gather your words. God, you didn’t know what to tell him. “Oh… Yeah. That’s sort of a, uh, special tone more dominant predator hybrids use. I don’t really know how to explain it. I’m sure there’s some scientific term, but uh… yeah.”
“Oh.” He pulled away from you slowly, resting against the couch. You nodded awkwardly. 
“I don’t hate you,” You said suddenly. “This morning, in the bathroom, you didn’t want to let me look at you because you thought I’d hate you… I don’t. I could never.”
He smiled, but didn’t meet your eyes. “We don’t have to make this awkward, do we? I don’t feel any different just because of… this. You’re still my best friend, Y/N.”
You nodded, smiling. “Why should it be awkward? I don't think this will change anything, Xuxi.”
Finally, he looked at you, and your eyes found his. His smile grew, and yours did as well. 
“I’m gonna go to bed,” He said moments later, as his hand rose to rub at his neck, “I’m insanely tired.”
“Good night, Xuxi,” You told him as he stood.
 “Good night, bunny.”
When he walked into his room without another word, you watched as he did so, closing the door to his room, right across the hall from yours. You rubbed at a kink in your neck, inhaling deeply as you did so. 
A few moments later, you stopped, eyebrows furrowing. You frowned, ears perking up ever so slightly as something gained your attention. You sniffled once, twice, three times.
Usually, you couldn’t perceive your own hybrid scent unless you consciously thought of it, kind of like when a person thinks of breathing and starts doing it manually rather than automatically. But now, you couldn’t do it. 
Instead, only the scent that you’d registered this morning as Lucas’s remained in its place. Your breath hitched as you realized that Lucas, in hugging you and burying his face in your neck, had scented you. 
There’s no way he did that on purpose… right?
Did Lucas even know about scenting? Was he even aware that it was a courting gesture between hybrids, and a way to tell other hybrids to back off?
Your mind drifted back to what Jongin had said this morning, and you sighed as you once again contemplated the situation. Within a day, both your life and Lucas’s had made a turn for the stranger, and no one knew whether this would be permanent or not.
Shaking your head to yourself, you stood, making your way to your room. This is only awkward if I make it awkward. Lucas doesn’t know hybrid behavior very well because up until this morning, he wasn’t one. Y/N L/N, you’re not going to make this awkward. This isn’t about you being ‘uncomfortable’, this is about Lucas’s wellbeing. You’re not going to make this awkward, you’re not going to make this awkward!
When you reached your door, you took one last glance at Lucas’s door, deciding that you would do your best to help him, for his sake.  
It couldn’t get that awkward, right? Especially not if you tried your best to make it as such. The both of you could continue living as if nothing had changed, right?
Tumblr media
Wrong. 
The next few days, it was almost as if the conversation you’d had that night had never happened, but not for your lack of trying. The next morning when you emerged from your bedroom, you found that Lucas was already gone, probably off to class. You shrugged it off, but still found it kind of strange.
When you got home from your classes and studying at the library, he was in the kitchen, eating a sandwich, and you greeted him, and he answered with a vague “hello”, not really paying you much attention. You thought it was strange, but chalked it up to him probably being tired. 
Then it happened the next day, and the day after that, and the next day, and the next, and the next. And almost overnight, you had no idea who this person who had replaced your best friend was. You felt hurt, trying your best to speak to him when you returned to your apartment. He wouldn’t budge, and you’d back off before you pissed him off too much. 
He didn’t look at you the same way he once did. It was like all of the warmth and happiness from his eyes had been sucked out of them, leaving a winter that rivaled the north pole. You couldn’t recall the last time he’d laughed around you.
You missed Lucas. You really did, and the worst thing was that you couldn’t tell if he felt the same thing. You didn’t want to confront him, telling yourself he was going through a tough time. You could tell it frustrated him, having this new tail twitch and to knock something over, the augmented senses distorting and amplifying everything around him. 
He confessed about three weeks, in a clipped tone, that Taemin couldn’t be sure if it was permanent or not. Nothing like this had ever happened to anyone before. There was no way test designed for this situation, and Taemin would have to design a safe way to test it. Which meant time, money, and patience. Two of which, those being money and patience, Lucas had never had much of. 
“Oh, Xuxi,” You’d sighed when he told him, “I’m so sorry.”
“You don’t have to be.” He set down the textbook he’d been holding onto the table. “You didn’t do it.”
You stepped forward, and he stepped back, almost immediately as you had. You frowned. “Please don’t do that,” You mumbled, now kind of angry. 
“Do what,” He sighed, as if the conversation was exhausting.
“Don’t pretend you don’t know.” You were glaring at him now. “You’ve been avoiding me like the goddamn plague.”
“And what if I am?” He asked, turning to face you. The ears on his head twitched restlessly, and his eyes were burning with what seemed to be contempt. “What if I can’t stand to be around you anymore?”
Your eyes widened, taken aback. After weeks of him not giving you the time of day, for him to say that was too much for you to take sitting down. You scoffed angrily, tapping your foot anxiously. “Excuse me? Where is this coming from?”
He stood up straight, and somewhere in your mind, a little alarm went off in your head at the sheer size of him. He always slouched, just a little. To see him like this, especially now that he’d grown so much, was jarring.
“You heard me,” He said in a tone you could only describe as threatening, taking a step towards you, and this time, you took a step back. “I can't stand being around you anymore. I can’t stand your face, or your voice, or your scent, or your voice. You get on my nerves, and sometimes I swear, I just wanna...”
He didn’t finish.
You shook your head, laughing humorlessly, despite the fact that your heart was cracking with every passing second. You didn’t know this person. Sadness and anger swirled in your chest, creating a mixture that made you grit your teeth. 
You weren’t backing down from this, not after giving him space to himself only to turn around and tell you this. You took a step forward, crossing your arms. “Um, why? What did I ever do or say?” 
He didn’t answer, fully scowling now. His eyes studied your face, but after a few moments, it dropped lower. You realized almost immediately he was looking at your neck. You swallowed nervously, forcing yourself to not look away when he met your eyes again. 
Still, no answer, and you groaned, causing him to snap out of his strange reverie. “Fine. Don’t fucking tell me. See if I care, Yukhei.”
You stepped away from him one last time, walking towards your room. 
“I don’t owe you a fucking explanation, you know! I don’t owe you shit!” He yelled, and you jumped at his sudden burst of anger. You turned, incredulous. Even he seemed to be shocked by the volume of his voice, wolf ears pressed against his head, like a puppy who’d just gotten chastised.
“And I don’t need you yelling at me! Just because you hate me doesn’t give you the right to treat me like shit!” You answered desperately, just as loud. You hated the way that your voice cracked towards the end of your tirade, eyes welling with tears and throat closing up. You blinked the tears back furiously, taking one final look at the increasingly sad look on his face before slamming your bedroom door behind you. 
Finally alone, you took a few deep breaths, trying to think over what had just happened. 
You’d known Yukhei for years. Never once had he raised his voice at you or anyone else. And here he’d just exploded at you, telling you that he couldn’t stand you or the things that made you, well, you.
You sat on your bed, body numb, as the tears began to flow freely. But you couldn’t bring yourself to make noise. You couldn’t bring yourself to curl up sob into your pillow . You knew that he would most likely be able to hear you if you did, and you didn’t want to give him that satisfaction. 
Instead, you laid back, trying your hardest to control your breathing, and fell asleep like that, with the tears falling into your hair, eyeliner and mascara streaking along your skin, feeling utterly destroyed.
After that, you felt yourself giving him an even wider berth than before. You didn’t speak to him unless you absolutely needed to, like when you couldn’t reach the sugar that had suspiciously ended up on the highest shelf, (even though you were the only one to use it) and needed him to hand it to you.
If you walked into the living room and he also happened to be in there, you two would meet eyes briefly, before you walked away. His gaze was never cold, but rather emotionless. Indifferent, bordering on unreadable. It still hurt to see. The only thing that could describe the mood of the apartment was tense. You quickly learned to hate living in such a suffocating environment.
The only "good" thing was that finals were right around the corner, so you were able to distract yourself from the whole situation and pour all of your concentration into studying into the wee hours of the morning. 
But that only lasted for so long.
Taemin had mentioned a heightened libido as a side effect of the treatment. As far as you could tell, Yukhei didn't give off any signs of that. It didn’t even make sense, considering he’d stopped taking the pills ever since the mutation had occurred.
However, for some reason, the universe decided that it wanted to cause you trouble on purpose. 
You came home one day to strange noises coming from Yukhei's bedroom. And when you got closer, it didn't take much for you to realize what was going on between him and whoever he'd brought home. Deep groans, high pitched moaning, and the undeniable sound of skin slapping against skin. Even worse, the smell. It smelled like sex, and sweat, and Yukhei. 
Maybe if you'd been human, you wouldn't have smelled it. But alas, you weren't, and so your heightened sense of smell painted a picture you didn't want to see. Of Yukhei and some stranger, him on top of her, fucking brutally into her.
"Yes, fuck, right there!" 
You damn near jumped out of your skin, then immediately cringing because… well. How could you describe the nasty feeling building suddenly in the pit of your stomach? It wasn't disgust. It wasn't… no. It couldn't be jealousy. Could it have been a mix of the two? 
You couldn't be sure.
And that was only the first time it'd happened. Soon enough, it was happening two or three times a week.
You suddenly started spending more time away from the apartment. Be it at the library, at the café right off campus, at your best friend Mark's apartment. 
But at night, you were on your own, having to listen to Yukhei plow a seemingly endless array of girls into his mattress while you were either studying or trying to sleep. 
Your girlfriends still lived at the college dorms, and there wouldn't be enough space for you there. You didn't want to impose on Mark, since you were already spending most of your day with him and he shared his apartment with four other guys. You certainly didn't want to ask to sleep over at Taemin's, not after what Jongin had told you.
You were more or less trapped in your apartment past nine PM. You wondered if this was how Fiona felt in the first Shrek film when she couldn't go outside at night.
Yukhei was loud, you came to learn. He groaned, he grunted, he growled. He had a filthy vocabulary and, if you were to go by what the girl he'd brought home past Thursday said, leaving out all the gory details, he was very… well endowed. 
You still weren't quite sure how to feel about constantly having to hear him from across the hall. You weren't judging him, not at all. It was none of your business, and as he'd so rudely put it, he didn't owe you an explanation.
But with exams rolling around, and stress starting to build up, you were disappointed, but not surprised to realize that your sexual frustration was doing the same. And Yukhei, with his pretty face, broad shoulders, foul mouth and maddening scent, was not doing you any favors by practically acting out porn across the hallway. 
Even worse? Mating season was approaching. 
The actual duration of heats and ruts for all hybrids varied, but a grand majority of hybrids went through them during the first few weeks of winter, regardless of whether they were predators or prey. 
So while it pained you to say it, Yukhei’s across the hall antics were not doing you any favors. You found yourself lying awake on a Saturday at one in the morning, after a particularly rough Friday. Meanwhile he was with yet another girl, listening to him dirty talk her to high heaven. You had your eyes closed, trying to sleep in the dark of your bedroom, but it wasn’t easy given what was going on.
If you hadn’t been in a sleep deprived delirium, you wouldn’t have allowed your mind to drift to Yukhei, or to focus on the vulgar words he was saying. His words were muffled by the walls, but it was still pretty easy for you to hear them, ears perking up as you did.
“Yeah, baby, you love my cock, don’t you?”
If you hadn’t been so tired, you would have put in some headphones and listened to some soft music until you were able to fall asleep, instead of letting your breath hitch while your sleepy mind conjured an image of a sweaty Yukhei on top of you, doing to you what he’d been doing to the entire campus.
“So fucking tight around me…”
And you definitely wouldn’t have stuck your hand down your pants, with one hand, covering your mouth with the other. But you did, imagining that it was Yukhei’s fingers and not yours pinching at your clit, teasing around your slit, feeling yourself get wet with every passing second. Hard to do, considering Yukhei’s fingers were so much longer than yours were, and you clenched around nothing at the thought of his pretty hands and how deep they could reach inside of you.
You opened your legs a little more, eyes fluttering shut as your index finger delved inside of you, stifling a quiet moan. Even in your sleepy haze your mind told you not to be too loud, because you knew that Yukhei could end up hearing it, and you didn’t want to seem like a creep after everything that had already happened. Slowly, you built up to a speed that you felt went well with the sound of skin against skin.
“Fuck, baby, you gonna come soon? I’m so close...”
Your breathing turned heavy, and suddenly the sheets were too hot, kicking them off of you before adding in a second finger, relishing in the stretch and the way your palm rubbed against your clit in a deliciously frustrating way. You hesitated briefly before adding a third finger, searching desperately for a spot that would cause you to see stars before they cramped up too bad.
When you did manage to find it, your body curled in on itself, biting down on your lip to stop yourself from making any noise. So embarrassingly fast, you felt yourself nearing climax, listening as the moans and groans escalated in pitch and in volume. You pulled your other hand away from your mouth to rub at your clit, and your eyebrows furrowed, mouth tipping open in silent moans. You prayed to whatever cosmic force that ruled over the universe in hopes that you wouldn’t make too much noise.
“Shit, shit, I’m c-coming, baby…” You heard him say, before switching to Cantonese to swear, and with that, your orgasm came crashing against you.
Your toes curled, your eyes squeezed shut, and before you could bury your head in your pillow, you squeaked out the softest possible whine, “Yukhei…”
When you came back down, you were quick to fall asleep, ignoring the stickiness in your panties or the smell of sweat permeating your room, too tired to bring yourself to care. 
You didn’t hear the shuffling of feet as Yukhei kicked this girl out of the apartment, too on edge after having heard your whimpering.
Tumblr media
After that, Yukhei didn’t bring home any other girls, and you brushed it off as him needing to concentrate for finals. The coming weeks were filled with all nighters, cups of coffee, tears and desperation as you somehow managed to pass all of your classes.
 You and Yukhei continued to practically tiptoe around each other, still not speaking. Now, however, it was more due to a lack of time than anger geared towards each other. Yes, you could still sense animosity when you crossed paths but it was getting… strange. While he almost never spoke, Yukhei’s wide eyes seemed to follow you whenever you passed him.
Now, the apartment had turned silent, rather than tense. You felt like you should anticipate something but you weren’t sure what. Many times, you could feel Yukhei before you saw him, and while before, at the apartment he tended to avoid you like a criminal dodging the law, now you always felt him close, his scent never far from where you were. On campus, you didn’t have that problem, rarely seeing him due to your different majors. But at home, it seemed like you could rarely hide from him. 
Finally, winter break was so close to rolling around, and all you needed to do was take two more exams, and hand in one final paper. Then you were free, and all you needed to do was call up your… friend, Doyoung.
You used the term “friend” very, very loosely. 
Doyoung was the only other rabbit hybrid you trusted enough to spend your heats with, and you really only spoke to him during this time of year. He was kind and soft spoken, and attentive to your needs when you were in heat despite him also being affected by his own rut. He was also insanely good in bed, and not too bad on the eyes either.
He enjoyed your arrangement, and wasn’t looking for anything serious, which you appreciated. This would have been your third heat spent with him.
You called him a week before your heat was due to start, and he swung by your apartment for a quick visit to discuss where you would go, how long your doctor had told you it would last, and generally to just catch up with each other.
Yukhei was out, probably studying with Mark or something. All you knew was that he was out. 
Doyoung was cute. Really cute. His ears, white with black tips were generally stood at attention. His broad shoulders and gummy smile were too much, and even though it was a week before your heat was supposed to start you kind of had to resist jumping his bones when you let him inside. 
You managed, somehow, and he sat down next to you at your small dinner table. 
“So, how’s Lucas?” He asked once all of the details were worked out. You were going to stay at his apartment for the following week.
You pursed your lips, sighing. “He’s, uh… It’s complicated.”
He shook his head, a nervous smile gracing his face.
“What do you mean it’s complicated?”
You shrugged, letting your eyes flutter shut. “It’s a long story.”
“So? Tell it,” He said, ears twitching, “I’ve got all day.”
So you did. From the treatment, to the mutation, to what Jongin had said, to the shift in his behavior, to the argument, to him bringing random girls home, even including the bit about you masturbating to him that one time. You didn’t spare the details, given that you’d probably had more sex with Doyoung within the span of both of your heats than you’d ever had with all of your previous partners combined. There was no point in being vague.
You worried you might be airing out you and Yukhei’s dirty laundry, but continued anyway. Doyoung was a good guy. He wasn’t going to blab to anyone about it. During your whole tirade, he remained emotionless, nodding along to show he was still listening to you. When you finished, he took a deep breath, ears falling against his head. He blinked a few times.
“Phew,” He whistled, “That’s… a lot. Sounds like he’s going through a tough time.”
You nodded, staring at your hands on your lap. “I know. I want to help him but I’m scared he’s gonna yell at me again and I don’t want to have to push him away even more. I miss him, Doie. I miss my best friend.”
Doyoung offered a sympathetic smile, patting you on the back. “Can I be honest?” His voice was soft, not demanding. You, always appreciative of his candor, nodded. 
“I don’t think you just miss your best friend, Y/N.”
Your head snapped upward to meet his gaze, sympathetic smile still there as he continued to rub up and down your back, now slower.
“No goddamn way,” You denied vehemently, shaking your head, “I don’t like him.”
“You’re right,” Doyoung answered, “You don’t like Yukhei. You’re in love with him.”
You spluttered, looking away as you felt your face heat up. “Y-you can’t really mean that, Doyoung. He’s like—"
“Yeah, yeah, your brother. You’ve told everyone and their mother that. But has it ever occurred to you that when you say that, it's just you trying to convince yourself? I see the way you look at him when I come to pick you up before your heats and you say goodbye to him. Your eyes just light up, and you smile like you’re the happiest you’ve ever been.”
“Well, because he makes me happy, he’s my—”
“Veggie lover’s pizza makes you happy, and I don’t see you smiling at it like it invented modern wi-fi. Yukhei? Y/N, he makes you happy happy. As in, if you were an actual bunny and not 25% bunny, you would be doing binkies around him.”
You gasped. “I would not—!”
“Would too,” He retorted, laughing slightly at your antics, “I swear, the way you talk about him—"
He would have continued, but was interrupted by the sound of the key clicking the apartment door open. Quickly, both of your heads turned to watch as Yukhei entered the apartment, eyes immediately trained on Doyoung. His expression was unreadable, but at the end of the day, both you and Doyoung, prey hybrids till the bitter end, could smell the tension that permeated his signature scent. You exchanged glances with the black haired man, and noted that his ears were standing at attention, just like yours.
 “Uh, hey, man,” Doyoung said with his iconic awkward smile, adding an awkward wave as well, “...Long time no see.” 
Yukhei remained silent for a moment as he took off his jacket, eyes still not leaving the other man. “Hello, Doyoung hyung. How have you been?” His voice was monotone, no discernible emotion in it, and you felt like you wanted the earth to swallow you then and there.
“Uhh…” Doyoung side-eyed you for the briefest second, your eyes flashing between him and Yukhei incessantly. Suddenly, you were on edge, and you knew that it was all because of the six foot tall nuisance that had just interrupted your moment with Doyoung.
“I’m... good. I was actually just about to, uh, head home,” He mumbled, and you furrowed your eyebrows as you turned to look at him, kind of taken aback. He was already getting off the couch, making sure he had everything.
You raised a tentative hand. “Hey, Doyoung—”
“Like I told you earlier, I need to go, uh… feed Jeno’s cat since he’s still out of town.”
“Uh,” You blinked, gaping like a fish, remembering the fact that you’d bumped into Jeno at the convenience store earlier today, “Take care, I guess?”
And then, quickly as Yukhei had come, Doyoung had gone, eyeing the wolf hybrid like he was about to get strangled.
When it was just the two of you, your eyes turned to look at Yukhei, and you huffed, before getting up and walking to your room. You closed your door, picking up your phone as you sat at your desk. 
doyoungie: your roommate is insane 
doyoungie: did you see the way he was looking at me? his scent was also super intimidating, y/n
doyoungie: i cant help you out, i dont feel comfortable given everything going on between the two of u
doyoungie: im really sorry y/n 
doyoungie: please be careful around him
You saw red. You chucked the phone onto your bed, too angry and upset to answer Doyoung in that moment.
Everything going on between you and Yukhei had ruined everything these past months, but this was the icing on the cake. If Doyoung wouldn’t help you, you couldn’t go over to his apartment during your heat. If you couldn’t spend your heat at Doyoung’s apartment, you would have to spend it in the apartment, with Yukhei across the hall. And if Yukhei, a predator hybrid, turned out to go into rut at the same time you, a prey hybrid, went into heat… well. 
It wasn’t even a matter of whether you would end up sleeping with him at one point or not. It was the principle of the thing. Yukhei brought home several girls to fuck and you had turned a blind eye. But god forbid you make plans to fuck someone in your own home. No, no, that was heresy. Highest treason in the land.
You slammed your door open, crossing the hall to stomp into Yukhei’s room. You ripped his door open, seething with anger. He turned in surprise, eyebrows furrowed. “Y/N, what—”
“Fuck you, Wong Yukhei,” You spat, getting straight to the point. He opened his mouth to speak, eyebrows turned downwards as he observed your angry frame. But you didn’t let him. 
“How fucking dare you. I said jack shit when you brought home all of those girls. But no, every single time I get close to another guy you put on a pissy face and puff out your chest and scare them away. What gives you the fucking right?”
He scoffed, then gave a humorless laugh. “It’s not my fault your prey hybrid boy toy can’t handle being looked at for more than five seconds.”
Your mouth fell open, glaring at him. You couldn’t believe the way he’d said the words ‘prey hybrid’ like it was something shameful. “What, do you have a problem with us prey hybrids now, or...?”
“Please,” He growled, “You’re always the one who was so willing to push predator hybrids away.”
“You of all people should know why.”
He took a step towards you, eyes meeting yours before looking at the floor. “Of course I did. And that’s why I pushed you away.”
You stared at him, incredulous at his sudden quietness. “No. Don’t you dare spin this as some little ‘woe is me’ sob story. You ghosted me. You treated me like I was trash. Maybe you didn’t want to worry me with this whole thing, which is more on par with the Lucas I know. But my Lucas, my Xuxi, would never have taken it that far.”
“Did it ever occur to you that your stupid little Xuxi isn’t coming back!?” He yelled suddenly, and your eyes widened at his display of anger. He took notice and took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration, and lowered his voice. 
 Y/N, this entire thing,” He huffed, gesturing to his ears and tail, which was now swishing back and forth restlessly, “It changed me too much."
"Yukhei…"
"You think I didn't want to keep being your Xuxi? T-that I didn't want to pretend that everything was normal and keep patting your head and hugging you in the morning and calling you bunny?" 
Your demeanor faltered, and your heart sank. This wasn't how you wanted this conversation to go.
"Yukhei."
He stepped closer, and you swallowed at his sudden proximity. "I feel this… need. Inside of me. Almost all of the time, but it's strongest when you're close to me. And I don't know what it is, but every time I look at you, I want to…"
"Yukhei," you mumbled dizzily as he took another step forward, basically forcing you up against the wall. You could feel his breath on your skin as he peered down at you, eyes melancholy. He looked lonely. You felt lonely.
"I want to… God, let me kiss you."
Your breath left your body, and before you could give it a second thought, you were tilting your head, eyes falling shut as he pressed his lips to yours.
Immediately, you stood on the tips of your toes to meet him easier, and his hands cupped your face before moving to your back, and then finally splaying possessively around your waist. 
The kiss was urgent, desperate; Yukhei kissed you as if he were dying and you felt the need to match his desperation. As your lips locked against each other's, Yukhei's body stepped closer to yours, his torso now pressed against yours. Your arms rose to his broad shoulders, wrapping around his neck, releasing a whimper when he pressed his tongue into your mouth.
Your stomach lurched when he used his thigh to separate yours, hands trailing down to grasp at your thighs. He pulled away from your lips, trailing to your jaw, and you whimpered, hands combing through his hair. Lower his mouth went, planting open mouthed kisses along your neck, and you felt a fire in your stomach, readying you to submit to him.
Submit?
Your eyes shot open, and your heart dropped, and as you realized what he had said, how he had said it, you were pushing him off of you. He stumbled back, chest heaving, eyes scared, lips swollen and pink. He seemed to have realized what he’d done. “Y/N, I didn’t mean t—”
“No.” You couldn’t look him in the eye, clenching your jaw. “I came here to say that I was tired of being treated like your property when all I’ve ever been is your friend. You turned it around and used that tone with me and you used it to kiss me. I-I can’t, Yukhei. Why would you even—”
“Because I’m in love with you.”
Your eyes widened as you met his, and you slumped against the wall, inhaling sharply. You opened your mouth to speak, but no words came out. He took this as his cue to continue, eyes pleading and apologetic as he leaned against his desk, giving you the space you suddenly needed.
“That’s no excuse, I know that. It’s literally the worst possible excuse I could give you. I don’t know how to control this thing yet and I’m… Y/N, I’m scared that I’ll hurt you with my words or all of this strength I now have combined with instincts I don’t understand and it terrifies me. And now, with this whole mating season thing coming I feel them even stronger and I...”
“Yukhei, you’re not making any sense,” You said, voice barely above a whisper. He looked up, eyes suddenly teary. 
“How can I make my thoughts make sense when you’re the only thing on my mind right now?”
You pursed your lips, eyes squeezing shut. Your stomach swirled and your mind was jumbled, unsure what to tell him. 
“Yukhei, what are your instincts even telling you?” 
He shook his head, expression agitated as he looked you up and down. Finally, his eyes landed on your neck, and he groaned, shoving his face into his hands. 
“I can’t hurt you, Y/N. I would never forgive myself if I did.”
Your breath hitched, heart rate beginning to pick up. “Yukhei, I need you to tell me what is going on with you. Then, we can call Taemin and he—he’ll figure something out.”
“I need to bite you. A-and you need to leave, so I can leave before I do something I regret.”
“Yukhei, hold on a second—”
“Y/N,” He growled, and you felt all of the hairs on your head stand straight up, animal instincts going haywire, “Leave.” 
Even if he hadn’t used that tone with you, you would have done so. And you did, bolting out of his room, quickly grabbing your phone from your room and then darting out of the apartment, out of the building and somewhere onto the street, legs shaking and heart broken.
You ran for several blocks, stopping once you felt comfortable, which just so happened to be in front of a cafe a few minutes from your apartment. You went in and ordered, sitting at a table in the window, staring blankly at the cup in front of you. You felt numb. Yukhei was making absolutely no sense, and your thoughts were too jumbled for you to try and decipher what he was trying to tell you. There was only one thing that you could make sense of.
Because I’m in love with you. 
God, you wanted to slam your head into the table, his words echoing in your head. He’d looked so candid, so vulnerable, so scared saying those six words, that it honestly kind of petrified you. After everything you’d thought about, everything you’d been told, and everything you’d said to each other, you were being forced with the truth, and you honestly weren’t sure if you could handle it.
Yes, you loved Yukhei. But what best friend doesn’t love their best friend? There was such a difference between loving and being in love, but in that moment you couldn’t be sure of any. 
Yukhei had always been there for you. He understood your boundaries, understood that you wanted to be an independent person, but wasn’t afraid to support you if he felt you needed it. Whenever you were sad, or frustrated, he was there. And vice versa. You understood that Yukhei, despite his intimidating looks, muscles and tall frame was just a gentle giant, sometimes not confrontational enough to stand up for himself. And yes, he was confident, but you knew that deep down he would always feel like he wasn’t good enough, just a little bit. And whenever that feeling became too heavy for him to carry, you’d be the one to pick him up and help him carry the weight.
Your mutual understanding of each other went so much more than just finishing each other’s sentences sometimes. With a simple movement, both of you could tell whether the other was upset, or excited, or angry. 
You sighed, taking another sip of your coffee.
Yukhei was kind, and he didn’t worry about what problems he might have in the future. He was funny, sometimes making you laugh till you cried because it was just an innate talent of his. And fuck’s sake, he was hot. And you… you, the worrisome, blunt hybrid who trailed behind him because he lit up your days, you were…
Oh my god. I’m in love with Yukhei.
You spluttered, immediately coughing as you choked on your coffee, attracting the attention of the people around you. It took you awhile, but you eventually managed to catch your breath, avoiding the questioning gazes of everyone around you. You were left with your head spinning, foot tapping anxiously. 
You needed to get back to the apartment.
You paid for the unfinished cup of coffee in a hassle, and ran back up the street as fast as your legs could carry you. You realized that all of the running you’d been doing meant your hair would be frizzy and you would smell like sweat once you got back, but you couldn’t care less.
 All you needed was to see him.
If you’d been able to talk him down from his own thoughts before, like that day in the bathroom and times before that, if you’d been able to get through to him before, it wouldn’t be that hard now, would it? You needed to know he was okay and that he knew that everything would work out in the end. 
You dashed onto your street, mind filled with only Yukhei and his wellbeing, for once being a bit reckless when it came to your own safety. Yes, he’d told you to leave. But that didn’t matter anymore, you thought as you rushed into the building and pulled yourself into the elevator. He was your only concern, now.
Your heart pounded as you stood in the elevator. Your leg never ceased its insistent tapping. Waiting, waiting, waiting for the doors to slide open. It took an eternity, but finally, you heard a ding! And when the doors opened, you bolted. You ran down the hall, reaching your door before you pulled out your key and unlocked the door, not thinking twice before swinging it open.
“Yukhei!?”
Your loud, breathless voice rang out through the apartment, but there was no response. As you caught your breath, you noted that the scent of cinnamon and earth was still there, but faint, as if Yukhei had vanished into thin air. Your heart sank.
“Yukhei?” You asked again, voice now quieter as you realized that he was probably gone. Your face fell, and part of you began to wonder why you even expected him to still be here.  
Walking towards his room, where the trace of his scent was strongest, you gnawed on the inside of your cheek, silently asking yourself where you would go from here. The vibration of your phone caught your attention, and you pulled it out of your pocket to see what the notification was. Your eyes softened at seeing Yukhei’s contact name grace your screen, but your gaze quickly turned gloomy when you saw how long his text was. That was never a good thing.
xuxi: Hey. I’m sorry about everything that just happened, and for scaring you like that. I’m gonna be staying at Taemin hyung’s until your heat passes. I don’t know how long that is, but I know it was supposed to start sometime next week? I want to keep distance from you until either hyung or I can understand what’s going on with me, and I don’t want to do or say anything that’s gonna damage our friendship. Please don’t worry about me, Y/N. I’m fine. Don’t think that I think you can’t be around other guys, because I don’t. I want you to be happy. And if you feel like you never want to see me once this is all over, then I’ll totally understand. I’ve been an asshole and I treated you horribly because I was acting selfishly. Take care.
You slumped against the wall, swallowing the growing lump in your throat. 
How on earth did everything get this messed up?
Tumblr media
The last few days before winter break were miserable. You spent the rest of that night after the argument with Yukhei crying out of frustration at the situation, falling asleep with puffy eyes and a runny nose. Eventually, however, you had to force yourself out of your pity party, because despite everything going on, you still had two exams to study for and a paper to turn in. 
Your paper was going to turn out mediocre, at best. You simply couldn’t put your heart into it despite the fact that it was 10% of your final grade for the semester. Thankfully, it was due Friday, and the first exam was on Monday and the other on Tuesday, leaving you a full three days to finish it, and you’d done pretty well in the subject all semester, so if you flubbed the paper, it wouldn’t be so bad. 
As for your exams, they weren’t your best, but you’d live. Exams this late were always hellish for you, because on top of all of the stress, your pre-heat symptoms were starting to set in. You felt tired, sluggish, and irritable. 
You thought of Yukhei almost all week during what little free time you got. You didn't see him on campus all week, but you knew from texting Taemin that he was still going. According to him, he wasn’t talking to anyone much. Not even Baekhyun could cheer him up, and Yukhei loved Baekhyun’s jokes.
You never responded to the long text Yukhei had sent you. You weren’t sure what to say, and after a certain amount of days had passed it just felt awkward to try and respond to him. 
Finally, Friday rolled around, and you strolled onto campus, ready to hand in your paper, go to your last few lectures, and then buy yourself some snacks to prepare to hole up in your apartment for a week during your heat. You wished you could just turn it in online, but this professor was probably as old as the university itself, and still preferred doing things the old fashioned way.
You sat down next to Mark right before your history lecture, about two hours before your paper was supposed to be turned in. 
“Hey, how have you been?” Mark asked, and you shrugged. 
“I’m pretty much over everything,” You sighed, “All I need is to turn in my paper to Wang and I’m out of here.”
“Can I see?” He asked. “Mine sucks and I wanted to compare.”
“Oh, yeah, sure,” You answered, turning to open your bag. You rummaged through it, looking between your notes, laptop, and old pieces of paper, before frowning. 
“No fucking way,” You muttered to yourself, looking through the contents of your bag again, now more frantic. 
“What? Do you not have it?”
“No,” You answered, turning to him, sounding desperate. “I think I left it on my desk this morning. God, I’m so stupid.”
“Why don’t you just go get it?” Mark said, tilting his head. “Your place isn’t that far.”
You eyed the professor, who was preparing his presentation before the class started, weighing your options.
“...You’re right. I’ll be back in like, half an hour.”
And so you set off, power walking back to your apartment, which was right off campus. When you got to your building, you stepped into the elevator and heard your phone ring. You looked at who was calling first, furrowing your eyebrows. Hesitantly, you picked up.
“Taem? What’s up?” You asked, looking through your bag for your keys.
“Hey, Y/N.” Taemin sounded anxious, and it didn’t do anything to dissipate your confusion. “I just wanted to let you know that Yukhei said he would be passing by the apartment to get some more clothes, but uh… I forgot to ask him what time, and now he isn’t answering my texts or my calls. He was acting kind of… weird this morning. He didn’t say anything to you, did he?”
You blinked, swallowing at the idea of seeing him again after not having said anything to each other. Suddenly, your heart seemed to be beating a lot faster than it had been a second ago. “Um. No. He didn’t. But um… thanks for letting me know. I’ll just be going—” 
“Wait, Y/N!”
“Taemin, what?”
“Have you ever heard of Tanaka’s Theory of Hybrid Compatibility?” He blurted, and you made a face, trying to figure out what he was talking about.
“...No?”
The elevator dinged, and you stepped out as he began to explain. 
“I was doing research after running some DNA tests on Yukhei, yesterday, to see if I would be able to gauge whether he’d be going into rut or not. This theory says that two hybrids of different animal types could trigger each other’s mating instincts—”
“Wait, wait, wait, I thought that wasn’t possible—”
“That’s what a lot of people thought, until Tanaka and her team published this study about a year ago. She did an experiment where she paired up hybrids of different animal types, and induced heat in only one of them, to see if it triggered rut or heat in the other hybrid. She concluded that it was possible, but only if the hybrids had already formed a deep emotional bond. Y/N, you and Yukhei…”
You stopped right outside of your apartment, dead in your tracks. “D—Taem. Do you think that could happen if…?”
You didn’t finish, and Taemin sighed. “Yeah,” He said, voice quiet. “I think he might be in the very early stages of rut. Please, please be careful, Y/N.”
You stared at the door, before sighing. “I will, Taemin. Thank you for calling me.”
You hung up, trying to absorb everything you’d just been told. Cautiously, you inserted the key into the lock, trying to be quiet. A chill rolled through your body as you stepped into the apartment. For some reason, it seemed so much more quiet than it usually was. You gulped. Hurriedly, with quiet footsteps, you approached your bedroom. You sighed in relief upon seeing the paper on your desk, and grabbed it, stuffing it carefully into your bag before turning to exit. 
“Hey.”
You shrieked in surprise, your skeleton nearly jumping out of your skin when you saw Yukhei in the doorway of his bedroom, staring intently at you. Immediately, you knew something was wrong. His eyes were wide like saucers, eyeing you up and down. His body seemed tense. His scent was overpowering. You scrunched your nose once it hit you.
“Y-Yukhei. What are you—Um, how have you been?”
“Oh, I’m fine,” He said, wide eyes never leaving you. You felt like he was studying you, and you squirmed underneath his gaze, “Just peachy. A little hot. What are you doing here?”
His sentences were quick and snippy, as if he were jumpy. You spluttered, gathering your thoughts.
“Oh,” You mumbled, “Um… I forgot my paper on my desk. I needed to come and get it.”
 The entire time, you never stopped looking at him. He seemed poised, ready to strike, looking for the moment he could catch you off guard. You swallowed, trying to step past him, “I need to turn this in later, so I’ll just…”
He grabbed your wrist before you could get out of his arms’ reach, cornering you against the wall. 
“I need to… talk to you,” He muttered, eyes trained on your face.
“Yukhei, you’re kind of freaking me out,” You answered, looking away from his face. Your own face was suddenly hot, animal instincts were screaming at his proximity, at his scent, begging you to either get away or pull him closer. Danger, one side of your brain whispered, while the other said, want.
“Just hear me out,” He answered, deep voice quiet and raspy. “I missed you this week. Missed my bunny.”
You looked away, unsure what to do. 
dangerdangerdangerdangerdanger
He lifted a hand to lift your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. You gasped, realizing that his eyes were a bright yellow. Had they always been that color or was it only now noticeable due to his proximity?
wantwantwantwantwantwant
“Y-Yukhei,” You mumbled again, panting as he brushed his lips against yours.
DANGERDANGERDANGERDANGER
In that moment, your animal instincts took over. What happened next happened in less than ten seconds, but felt like an eternity.
See, when rabbits feel threatened, they bite their attacker. You knew this. Yukhei knew this. So it should’ve been no surprise to either of you when you shifted your neck, quickly striking and giving his neck a harsh bite. Your animal instincts expected him to back off. But instead, he groaned loudly, pressing you even further into the wall, gripping your hips and pressing himself against you. You froze, feeling something hard press against your hip. 
“So you want to bite me too,” He growled, “But I want to bite you harder.”
WANTWANTWANTWANTWANT
You whimpered, as he, agonizingly slowly, pressed his mouth to your neck, baring his teeth. He tugged your head to the side, and you squeezed your eyes shut, waiting for the bite to come, almost welcoming it. 
But it never did. 
Instead, when you opened your eyes, you saw that Yukhei was trembling. 
“I can’t,” He whispered, “I don’t want to hurt you.”
You swallowed, realizing what was going on. 
“You won’t,” You answered, matching the tone of his voice. “Xuxi, wolves bite like this to mate, not to attack.”
“Huh?” His amber eyes studied your face, searching for anything other than the uncertainty etched upon it. 
“You’re not biting me to hurt me,” You said, stroking his cheek, “It’s because you wanna mark me as yours.”
“But you’re not mine,” He murmured, still trembling, “You don’t love me the way I love you.” 
You shook your head, head spinning as the heat on your face spread across your body at the sensation of his body against yours.
“Except I do.” Your voice was hoarse. “I love you, Lucas. I realize that now.”
You tilted your head back, revealing the expanse of your neck. He growled in approval as you did. “And I want to be yours, forever.”
He didn’t mark you then. Instead, he craned his neck to catch your lips with his. You cried out softly when he did, his hands coming down to lift one of your legs, wrapping it around his hip. 
“Jump,” He said into the kiss, and you did, without question. The feeling of uneasiness, of danger, melted away, leaving you only with want. He dragged you back to his room, tossing you onto his bed with ease. 
You whimpered as you let him go, now fully aware that you’d entered your heat, and you wouldn’t be satiated until he made you cum. You watched, as he stared down at you with a predatory gaze—go figure—pulling off the t-shirt he was wearing. He crawled on top of you, not saying a word before he kissed you again. 
Your hands roamed, tracing down his back and up your sides as he squeezed your thighs with his large hands, sliding up the skirt you were wearing. 
“Please don’t tease,” You whined between kisses, “N-need you.”
“My bunny needs me?” He asked, chest rumbling with pride, and you nodded. He tugged off your shirt, leaving you in only your bra and your skirt. He pressed a kiss to your neck, before inhaling deeply and groaning. 
“God, is this what you smell like when you’re in heat?” His voice was raspy, lustful; you felt punch drunk at the sound of it. “You smell fucking divine.” You nodded, reaching for the button on his jeans. You didn’t trust your voice.
“Bunny, you’re on the pill, right?” He asked suddenly, sounding a lot more sober than he had just a few seconds ago. Your eyes darted up to his face, noting his ears twitching nervously. You nodded. “Y-yeah, why?”
He pressed a kiss to your temple, before lowering his mouth to your ear. “Because as much as I want to pump you full of my pups right now, I know you probably don’t want that for us now.”
God, he was the human definition of whiplash. You straight up moaned at the idea, eyes squeezing shut as you pulled his pants down. “S-sounds good on paper. R-really good,” You declared, “But in practice… Not right now.”
He nodded, smiling softly. You realized he was wagging his tail, and you smiled gleefully. “Anything for my bunny.” 
Yukhei pressed another kiss to your temple, before pulling your skirt down, hands kneading at your newly exposed flesh. You lifted yourself off of the mattress to press wet kisses to his collarbone, ignoring the desperation beneath your skin. Still, your mind screamed.
WANTWANTWANTWANTWANTWANTWANT
“Xuxi,” You said, “Please hurry and fuck me already.”
“I don’t wanna wait either,” He admitted, grinning wolfishly. With not another word, he pulled your panties to the side, and slowly pressed a finger inside. 
Your breath hitched, feeling like when you scratch at an itch, but can’t find the exact spot. Content, but not yet satisfied. 
“You’re so wet,” He mumbled, “All of this is for me, right, Y/N?”
You nodded insistently, legs spreading further to allow him enough space. He was so big, nearly engulfing you as he hovered over you. And his fingers were so long, reaching far further than your fingers could when you pretended yours were his. 
“Lucas…” Your voice was high, breathless, “More, please.”
"So needy for me, hm?" Yukhei chuckled darkly, adding another finger. His smile grew when you tightened around him. "Tell me what you want, bunny." 
"Fuck," You groaned, "I want you to fuck me and make me yours. W-want to be stuffed and filled with your cum. Want y-your pups, wanna be yours."
His amber eyes glowed in admiration, peering down at you. "Fuck, that's a good girl." 
He tugged off your bra, but got a little too impatient when he got to your panties, and you gasped in surprise when you felt the seams snap. Your eyes darted to Lucas's hands, which were now holding the broken fabric with a smug look on his face.
"Oops."
You huffed, not caring about the underwear. Lifting yourself off of the mattress, you pulled him in for a kiss, and he responded with fervor. His tongue dipped into your mouth, swallowing your eager moans. In your eagerness, you reached into his underwear, wrapping your hand around his member. 
You gasped into the kiss, feeling how hard he was. Even without looking, eyes still shut as you focused mostly on kissing him, you could feel he was big. You wondered, momentarily, if he would even fit. Yukhei pulled away from you, lowering his eyes to watch your hand stroking him. You did as well, swallowing at the sight. He wasn’t too thick, but he was incredibly long. The tip was a pretty shade of red, precum leaking steadily out.
“You want me to fuck you?” He asked, mouth brushing against yours, panting slightly.
You nodded, canting your hips in an attempt to entice him. He pulled his fingers out of your pussy, brushing against your clit intentionally. You keened, looking up at him. 
“Yeah, baby,” You answered, pushing him away slightly, to turn around, and prop yourself onto your knees. He groaned at the sight of your wetness, one finger teasing at your hole. He came closer to you, and his free hand pulled you up. His chest was pressed against your back. He pressed a kiss to one of your shoulder blades, resting his head on his shoulder to speak to you.  
“One day, I’m gonna sit you down on my face and eat you until you forget your name. But right now, I can’t hold back anymore. Need to be inside of you.”
You nodded in agreement, bated as he gripped one of your hips, the other nudging you gently between the shoulder blades, so your face was buried between the pillows. You inhaled, whining lightly at how much it smelled like him, like Yukhei. 
“All mine,” He growled, sliding inside of you. He was met with no resistance, your walls sucking him in with no protest.
“Yours,” You agreed, rocking your hips lightly against his. He groaned loudly, gripping your hips tightly. 
“S-so tight,” He groaned, with a little laugh, “I can barely move.”
“Please, Xuxi,” You whined, voice muffled, “N-need it.”
His grip tightened, and he gave a hard thrust, to which you responded with a loud noise. He immediately set a brutal pace. He bent over, practically covering your body with his own. You could feel the heat radiating off of his body, his grunts and growls right into your ear.
Your hand reached behind you, trying to grab him in some way. He registered what you were trying to do, and reached out to take your hand in his. “Who’s making you feel this good, bunny?”
“Ah, you, Lucas,” You cried, and Yukhei pressed a kiss to the junction of your shoulder and neck. 
“You think Doyoung could fuck you this good, baby?”
Your stomach curled at his words, and you shook your head. “N-no,” You said, hips bucking back to meet his. “Don’t want him, want you.” 
“F-fuck, that’s my girl, you just wanna be mine, huh?”
You nodded, unable to answer at the pleasure coursing through your veins. Yukhei wasn’t satisfied by this, evident in the way he tugged on your hair and pulled your head up. You shrieked not only at the pleasure, but also how unexpected it was. Yukhei was always one to be gentle, but now, with the need he felt to fuck you until you were both satiated, all of his mercy went out the window. 
“Use your fucking words,” Yukhei snarled, hips never letting up. You whimpered, eyes closing.
This wasn’t Yukhei, or Lucas, or Xuxi. No, this was pure, unbridled, alpha wolf taking the reins. And in this moment, you wouldn’t have it any other way. 
“Y-yeah, I want you to make me yours,” You answered in a small, shaky voice.
“You wanna be my bitch, baby?”
“Fuck,” You moaned, pussy clenching at his question, “Please…”
“Please what, bunny?” The wolf asked, voice sickly sweet, and you bit your lip, trying not to cry out. “P-please make me your bitch, baby.”
He pressed a kiss to your shoulder again, letting go of your hair. You fell back onto the mattress, practically boneless; you couldn’t find it within you to hold yourself up. His hands found their way back to your hips, using them as leverage as he pounded into you.
“What my bitch wants, my bitch gets.”
His hips sped up, something you didn’t know was possible. You were vaguely aware of his headboard ramming into the wall, but you couldn’t care less. All you could care about was the growing pleasure bubbling in the pit of your stomach, which only boiled hotter when you reached between your legs to pinch at your clit.
Yukhei groaned at the same moment you did, relishing in the way your walls clenched at the sensation.
“How the fuck are you still so tight?” He said. You craned your neck to get a good look at him, chest tightening at the sight.
His tan skin glowed with sweat, eyes rolled up into his head, mouth open as he let loose grunts and groans, and his light brown hair was matted with sweat. The dark ears on his head were twitching furiously and his cheeks were flushed. You felt like you could have cum from the sight alone.
 Could have, because the awkward angle made your neck hurt, and it pained you to not be able to touch his skin or tug on his hair. 
Yukhei opened his eyes immediately when you muttered out a soft, “stop, stop,” his hips stopping much to his discomfort. He sighed in relief when he realized you just wanted to change your position. You whined softly in discomfort when his cock slipped out of you, shaky legs doing their best to maneuver into the position you wanted.
You flopped down onto your back in front of him, staring up at him. “Come on,” You said breathlessly, parting your legs, “You know what I want you to do.”
He exhaled, eyes scanning your sweaty body, taking in just how beautiful you looked beneath him. “Fuck, I love you so much,” He declared, settling in between your legs, slipping back into you with ease.
You took advantage of the position, wrapping your legs around his waist, trying to pull him closer. Your hands wrapped around him, reaching for his back. You dug your nails into the skin, and he huffed slightly at the pinch of pain.
He growled with pride when his eyes darted down to where you were connected. “Fuck, that’s so hot, bunny. You’re so fucking tiny.”
Your eyes followed his, and you whined when you realized that there was a bulge sticking out of your tummy. 
He immediately retook his rhythm, pounding away like there was no tomorrow, voice getting louder. It was still a bit far, but you could tell he was approaching his high, just like you. He was pressing wet kisses to your breasts, large hands groping them. Your head fell back, mind completely blank.  
“X-Xuxi, I’m c-close,” You mumbled, “Please touch me.”
He nodded, lifting off of one of your nipples to meet your eyes. “Shit, me too,” He agreed, voice shaky. His lips travelled to your neck, one hand travelling to your clit. You moaned loudly, throwing your head back to reveal more of the skin of your neck. 
“Gonna make you mine,” He growled, “Gonna fuck you full of my pups, show everyone who you belong to.”
His hips were losing their finesse, their rhythm, pace turning sloppy as his hand rubbed at your clit, hoping to make you cum.
“Yes, yes, yes,” You cried nonsensically, toes curling. “Make me yours, Lucas, ah, fuck, w-want it so bad!”
And then he sunk his teeth into your neck, and you tumbled over the edge, a lot harder than you ever expected it to be. You were drowning in a dizzying mix of pleasure and pain, vision blurring as your body writhed against Yukhei like a woman possessed. You cried out his name one final time, voice dying after you did. 
You heard him groan against you, hips grinding against you as he released inside of you. Your mind immediately realized what was going on as his cock swelled within your walls, eyes snapping open as the sheer size of his knot caused you to cry out. Whether that was from the burn of being stretched beyond your limits, or the satisfaction of stuffed with him. 
 You were wordless when you managed to come down, breathing heavily, his head resting on your collar bone. The need that had been itching inside of you had gone away, for now. Your mind cleared up, and you were suddenly very aware of the fact that Yukhei was naked, on top of you, and now the two of you were stuck together for god knows how long. The few words you had exchanged prior were under the influence of his rut and, subsequently, your heat, and even before that, an argument that led to you not speaking to each other for a week.
"So…" You muttered, voice hoarse.
"Uhh…" Lucas lifted his head, tired eyes meeting yours. They were back to brown. "I take this as an 'apology accepted'?" 
You rolled your eyes, swatting his arm playfully. "You're not completely out of the woods yet, asshole. You were a huge dick. But what matters now is that we're together, and I love you. We can work the rest out later."
Yukhei's hand brushed a stray hair out of your face, smiling softly at you. "I don't deserve you," He murmured, "But I promise I'll do my best to treat you like a queen." 
You pressed a soft kiss to his lips. "I'd like that."
You both fell asleep slightly after, whispering sweet nothings and promises of a better tomorrow into each other's ears.
And when Taemin—who had worried about Yukhei not coming back to his apartment got worried enough to use your hidden spare key to get into the apartment—woke you up, screeching at the "ungodly sight" of your naked bodies pressed against one another, you laughed, despite Yukhei's possessive instincts kicking in and covering your body with his.
Because you finally had Yukhei in your arms, and, regardless of whether he's got fluffy ears and a tail or not, you were happy to call yourself his.
1K notes · View notes
alltimesos · 4 years ago
Text
Three Thousand- Ashton Irwin
Another fic I found in my drafts ♡ This week is spring break for me so I am hoping to sit down work on a few requests! 🍑
word count: 2.3k
warnings: cursing, brief mentions of unprotected sex, tooth-rotting fluff
Tumblr media
“Ashton! Will you come in here for a minute?” you called from the doorway of one of your son’s bedrooms. A few moments later your husband appeared into the room and walked over to you with confusion all over his face.
“What’s going on babes?” he questions, kissing your forehead.
“Will you please tell your firstborn son that fifth grade isn’t scary and he’ll make plenty of friends?” Ashton grins, kneeling in front of the bed to talk to Ethan. You sigh as you walk out of the bedroom, leaning against the wall.
You and Ashton have five kids together. Your eldest son, Ethan is 10, your second-born son, Jaxon is 7, your third-born son, Oliver is 6 and your twin daughters Amelia and Charlotte, are 4. “Mummy! Jaxon stole my toy!” You hear Oliver shout from the room over. You rub your temples before stepping into the boy’s room, to take care of the situation.
+++
The following morning was chaos, to say the least. It was the first day of school and nothing was going right. Your alarm never sounded, meaning you woke up twenty minutes late. You scramble to get out of bed to get dressed and at least attempt to fix your hair.
You jog down the stairs to smell bacon cooking. You furrow your eyebrows as you take the last step, appearing into the kitchen. A huge weight is lifted from your shoulders as you see Ashton standing at the stove, cooking bacon and waffles, not wearing a shirt but your pink apron wrapped around him. You giggle, walking towards Ashton to steal your daily morning kiss. “I didn’t even notice you were missing from the bed,” you tell him against his lips.
“Well, thanks a lot babe,” he replies sarcastically. You giggle once more, wrapping your arms around his neck. He presses his lips against yours slightly pressing you up against the counter.
“Ew!” you hear your small children yell. You push Ashton off of you, turning towards the twins standing in the doorway. “Good morning babies!” you pick both of them up, placing them on each hip. Both of them inherited Ashton’s sandy curls and hazel eyes, which you admired deeply.
“Are you guys excited for your first day of school?!” you ask carrying them upstairs. Charlotte, the older twin, only by a few minutes, nods against your shoulder. “X’cited mummy, I have butterflies in my tummy.” Once you reach the bedroom you place the girls down on their beds. “What about you Miss Amelia?” She was the shyer one of the two, a girl of a few words.
“Nervous, mummy.”
You open the closet door to pick out their outfits for the day. “No need to be nervous, darlings. School is lots of fun and you will make new friends!”
You help both of your daughters get dressed before styling their curly hair. You kiss their cheeks before patting their bum lightly. “Go downstairs, daddy made you breakfast.”
You walk down the hall, knocking on Ethan’s door. A few moments later he opens the door and steps out. “Did you make your bed?” “
Yes, mum,” he groans. You pull him into a hug, kissing the top of his head. “No matter how old you get you will always be my baby. Fifth grade will be awesome!” Much to your surprise, Ethan squeezes you tightly. “I love you, mum.” He lets go of you, grabbing his backpack and going downstairs.
“Hey there rockstar!” you hear Ashton yell at your son. Since Jaxon and Oliver were close in age you allowed them to share a room. The door was wide open already so you walked in, ignoring all of the toys scattered around the room. “Mummy!” Oliver yells running over to you. “Hi, sweetie! Are you almost ready?” Oliver nods, grabbing his backpack. “Daddy made you breakfast!” you barely finished your sentence because Oliver was already running downstairs.
“Is my soon-to-be second grader ready?” Jaxon doesn’t say anything, just pushes past you and walks down the stairs. You stand there confused but don’t say anything.
+++
“All right does everyone have their backpacks and lunches?” Ashton asks before opening the front door. All your kids’ nod, Oliver saying “yep!”
“Okay let me get a picture!” Ashton lines all the kids up by height and snaps a few photos as a group and then individually. “My babies are all grown up.” You laugh, taking Ashton’s hand in yours.
“Okay, let’s go before daddy starts crying.”
The crew gathers in the car with only a slight fuss, the boys arguing who’s going to sit where. You buckle the twins up in their car seats before sliding into the passenger side of the vehicle.
“Let’s rock and roll,” Ashton says pulling out of the driveway. “Gosh, I swear you become cornier by the day,” you joke with him.
The drive to the first stop wasn’t too long. Ethan slipped out of the car after giving you both a kiss on the cheek muttering out a “see you later”. You and Ash call out a “bye have a good day!”
The next two boys get dropped off as well without too much of a hassle. Ashton pulls into a parking space at the last elementary school. The two of you help the girls out of the car, Charlotte grabbing your hand and Amelia grabbing Ashton’s.
The four of you walk into the school, searching for the right classroom. Once you find it, you walk the girls into the semi-quiet room. The teacher walks her way up to the girls, kneeling down. “You must be the Irwin twins! Charlotte and Amelia right?” Charlotte starts babbling her head off while Amelia tucks herself into her daddy’s side.
“I’m Mrs.Penner, I’m very excited to have you guys in class!” Charlotte hugs you and Ashton before grabbing the teacher’s hand. Ashton bends down and picks up his littlest one. “Hey, there pretty girl. Pre-K is gonna be awesome! It’s only for a few hours okay? Mummy and daddy will be here at 12:30 to pick you and Charlotte up!” Amelia nods, snuggling into her dad.
Ashton puts her down after kissing her forehead. She turns to you, hugging your legs mostly. “Bye mummy.” She tells you, turning around to join her sister. “Bye baby.” You whisper back. Ashton wraps his arm around your waist, walking towards the car. Once inside, he high-fives you then pulls you in for a kiss. “We did it, Mrs.Irwin! And we only let out a few tears.”
“Way to go daddy-o!”
When you guys get home you immediately plop down onto the bed with your husband. Ashton sprawls out onto his stomach, one arm around your body. “Hey babe?” he asks. “What’s up?” You answer him, closing your eyes.
“Can we have another kid?”
You lay there for a moment before propping yourself up on your elbows.
“Ashton, we already have five. I don’t think we need any more,” trying to keep your voice calm. He sits up himself as well to look at you.
“But I really want another one. I think it would be great to have a huge family!”
“I don’t know Ash… it just doesn’t seem like a good time to have one.” He nods, crawling on top of you. “But baby, in nine months from now it will be almost June. The kids won’t be in school. It just seems like the perfect time to have one…” You nudge Ashton over so you’re the one on top of him.
“We’ll discuss it later babe. But right now we have three hours to kill before we go pick up the twins.” your voice dropping an octave, sliding your hands up his shirt to feel his abs. Ashton sits up to slide his shirt off and then taking yours off after. His hands rub and down your sides, causing goosebumps to form. “You’re so beautiful babe,” he says honestly. Before having kids you weren’t small and now five kids later, you’re definitely not small. You hadn’t lost all of the baby weight yet from the last pregnancy, due to being a stay-at-home mom.
“Thank you, Ash,” you whisper. He firmly grabs your pudgy waist and flips you onto the bed. He unhooks your bra, setting it aside as well as your panties. He smirks down at you as he tugs his underwear and shorts off. His hand comes to rub circles on your clit, creating a slow movement.
While he thumbs at your sensitive nub he places his head into your neck to suck softly on the exposed flesh. “A-ash,” you moan out. “Feel good darling?” he mumbles against you. “Yes, always so good.” He places a final kiss below your ear before pulling off. You are now dripping wet from him playing with your clit. “Relax baby girl.”
“Fuck..” you whined already needing more of him. Your husband has the power to string you apart like a tangled mess of Christmas lights. You feel Ashton thrust slowly into you, ecstasy building up in your stomach. “What a pretty girl you are,” he compliments you, quickening his pace. “Such a good girl taking me like this.” He leans down to suck on your nipples, the wetness of his tongue sliding around on your skin.
You groan, knowing you’re going to cum any moment now. It had been a while since you and Ash had some intimate time. Any time you were without kids the two of you always caught up with each other or took a nap. It’s always quick handjobs or sloppy blowjobs before the kids wake up.
You still yourself as Ashton slows his pace, dragging out the moment and all you can think about is how sweet his release will be. “Ashton please,” you beg but words are broken. “Please what?” he prompts. “Please go f-faster” you moan and your husband finally picks up his pace. With one hard thrust that has your vision dancing, Ashton is releasing a hot load inside of you, making you cum as well. He pulls out of you, caressing your cheeks, words of praise escaping his lips. He helps you get dressed and he slips his clothes on too. You are lying on your back with Ashton on his side next to you. “My pretty girl,” Ashton whispers and you beam back at him. “I love you.” He kisses your cheek, sliding underneath the covers, catching up on some sleep before you two go pick up the twins.
+++
The first month of school goes by smoothly. It is now a Saturday morning and you have family pictures planned. You usually do it during the fall but decided to do it this year with the weather being warm. Everyone is dressed in matching colors, you and the twins are wearing sundresses, the boys and Ashton wearing colored short-sleeved button-ups and jeans. As you’re putting on your last earring, Ashton sneaks up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist.
"My beautiful wife. Still looking good even at thirty.”
You and Ashton had started your family young, with Ethan going to be eleven soon. You turn around and pecked his lips, grabbing your shoes on the way out of the bedroom. “Boys, let’s turn on the video games please.”
“But mummy-” Jaxon starts.
“Boys. The video games will be here when we get back, please listen to your mummy,” Ashton warns them lightly. The boys nod and turn the television and game console off, standing by the front door. Amelia grabs your hand, wanting to be picked up. “You’re so pwetty, mummy.” You smile and kiss her cheek. “You’re so pretty too, miss Amelia.” Ashton locks the front door behind everyone and helps the girls into their car seats. The car ride to the fairgrounds was thankfully short, Oliver becoming somewhat fussy.
“I think it’s really cool we’re doing carnival-themed pictures!” Ashton tells you after getting everyone out of the car.
“Yes! I’m very excited. It was time for a change.”
After meeting up with the photographer, an old friend of yours, she snaps a few photos of the boys and the girls. She takes some of just you and Ashton and then Ashton with the boys. After she snaps a few of you and the twins, she lines you up in front of the Ferris wheel for a family photo.
With everyone in position, she says “ 1, 2, 3, Y/N’s pregnant with twins!” the camera clicks.
Everyone’s heads whip in your direction. “Did she just say you’re pregnant with twins?” Ashton asks you, eyebrows furrowed. You nod excitedly as he picks you up to twirl you around. You can hear the photographer taking pictures of the precious moment. “How long have you known?!” his voice high and squealy.
You giggle as Ashton puts you down, giving you another kiss. “Just a few days. I called Lindy, our photographer, and told her and she came up with this idea!”
Charlotte comes up to you, tugging the end of your dress. “Mummy? What’s going on?”
Ashton smiles brightly and kneels down to meet her at eye level. “You’re going to have either little sisters or brothers, or one of each! Mummy has babies in her tummy!”
Amelia and Charlotte pat at your stomach while the boys surround you with a hug. After taking more photos, you and Ashton treat the kids to ice cream.
They all sit in the booth next to yours and Ashton’s, talking about names for their future siblings. Ashton smiles and leans over to you, wiping the chocolate ice cream off your chin.
“I have some pretty powerful sperm,” he whispers in your ear and plants a kiss on the side of your face.
Your hand meets the bottom of his ice cream cone, the cold cream hitting him in the face. Ethan looks over and says, “look at daddy!” The rest of the table laughs, smearing their own ice cream on their face. You chuckle, watching this perfect family of yours, knowing this is true happiness.
Taglist:
@hoodhoran
@suchalonelysunflower
155 notes · View notes
sapphicquill · 3 years ago
Note
congrats on 100 followers friend <3 may I ask for anything with ler!Fjord bc the way you wrote teasing in your TAZ fic was so good? or lee!Lucretia during the Stolen Century arc being tickled out of her antisocial little shell if you're in a TAZ mood :) -Chock
Whoops. This is what happens when my whole life gets flipped upside down and I have to move cross-country back home out of no where! Sorry for the long wait, I'm finally making headway on these fics. I owe the entirety of this fic to @ticklishnonsense's honey-tongued because that’s the Ultimate Teasey Ler!Fjord fic and to @poesparakeet-fics for the plot because my smol brain could not come up with anything good and she gave me THE GOODS. Hope you enjoy, @chockfullofsecrets!
(ao3 link!)
Rating: Teen
Characters: Fjord, Caleb Widogast
Wordcount: 2423
After everything they’ve all been through, Fjord thinks he can handle most things. Spitting up salt water in the mornings, nearly getting impaled by strangers on a regular basis, Nott rifling through his shit—while he’d rather not deal with all of that bullshit, he can and that’s the important thing.
But the crushing weight of all the damn pining happening between Caleb and Essek might be the one thing Fjord absolutely cannot handle for any longer.
It had started innocently enough. Hands brushing and secret smiles and eyes briefly meeting before diverting, full of nerves and excitement and swirling butterflies. He’d experienced some of the same with Jester, but the two wizards were starting to get insufferable. It was painfully obvious to anyone in the room that they had a thing for one another, and even if it wasn’t, Fjord had overheard Caleb whining to Jester more than once about the entire situation, so it wasn’t like he was entirely oblivious to his own crush.
But apparently perpetually sad and stuffy wizards are really bad at just admitting what was right in front of their faces. Fjord’s worried that one of them might just explode soon, and that’s the entirely altruistic reasoning that finally inspires him to insert himself into the situation.
Caleb’s problem, Fjord thinks, is one of confidence. He gets too caught up in his own keen mind, tangling everything up in his head and overthinking and overanalyzing and panicking and deconstructing until everything’s just a jumbled mess of knots. He just needs a little push is all. A little something to nudge him past the trouble that is thinking and into acting. And Fjord thinks he knows a fairly good method of encouragement.
Thus, Fjord is currently standing in the doorway of the mansion library, trying not to reveal his presence too early. Caleb is folded over a desk with a pinched expression on his face that Fjord knows by now means he’s reached some sort of roadblock in whatever he was working on. In other words: a perfect time for an interruption.
“Productive afternoon?”
It’s a testament to how close the group has gotten that Caleb only sort-of flinches at the sudden sound of Fjord’s voice.
“Ah, nein, not really,” the wizard replies as he straightens up. His back makes an ominous cracking noise as he sits up and Fjord winces in sympathy.
“Gods, then maybe it’s time to take a break, hm?”
“Ja, a break…” Caleb trails off, eyes drifting back to the scattered parchment and books on the desk. Fjord resists the temptation to roll his eyes at the utterly predictability of their headstrong wizard.
“Okay, well now I’m making you take a break, Widogast,” he says as he marches swiftly over to Caleb and practically hauls him out of his chair. Caleb, unsurprisingly, goes willingly, letting himself be shuffled over to a nearby sofa.
With a huff, Caleb sits and begins massaging his temples, willing away either a physical ache or a swirling mass of snarled thoughts and ideas. Fjord lowers himself down next to the human and pretends like he isn’t thrilled over what he’s about to do.
A comfortable silence descends then. After a few more vigorous rubs, Caleb leans his head back against the leather of the sofa and closes his eyes and Fjord figures this is the best chance to spring the trap.
Quick as a slash of his falchion, Fjord twists from his spot next to Caleb and pulls him down into a horizontal position before caging the human in from above. He hovers over the now-prone wizard and tries not to feel too smug as Caleb yelps but doesn’t move an inch to try to wiggle away.
“Scheiße, what the hell are you doing?”
“I’ve actually been meaning to talk to you about something,” Fjord says casually as he can. Caleb gives him an exasperated look, complete with raised eyebrow and suspicious frown.
“And this ‘something’ requires you to pin me to a sofa?”
Fjord grins before scooping both of Caleb’s wrists up with one hand and pulling them above his head. Exasperation shifts quickly into a mix of disbelief, fear, and anticipation and Fjord is lucky that around his friends, Caleb wears his emotions very clearly on his face.
“Well,” the warlock starts, “I kind of figured that this particular topic would send you scampering off if I didn’t take some preventative measures.”
A fiery blush colors Caleb’s cheeks and Fjord tries not to laugh.
“And something tells me I thought correctly.”
Caleb makes a noise not unlike one Fjord’s heard from Frumpkin and finally starts to struggle lightly in his grasp, like his body is only now catching up with the rest of him. Fjord lets him, figuring that letting the wizard work himself into a bit of a tizzy will just make his own task easier. Caleb’s terribly predictable. As the human squirms minutely under him, Fjord lets his free hand curve subtly into a claw and hovers it just next to Caleb’s lower ribs.
“Now, see, I also think you might benefit from a little preemptive encouragement, because you’re the most stubborn fucker I’ve ever met when you have to talk about anything personal...”
Fjord trails off when he notices that Caleb’s eyes have locked onto his hand, mostly because he knows that the brilliant mage has connected all of the appropriate dots and will voice a protest in three, two—
“N-nein, Fjord, wait just a moment, there is no need for—”
Fjord slowly flutters his fingers, still poised a hair’s breadth from the stretched expanse of Caleb’s ribs, and Caleb cuts himself off with a hitched laugh-gasp, eyes wide as saucers.
“I don’t think you’re in any position to negotiate right now,” Fjord says, the edges of his voice tinged with a low growl as he keeps the motion of his fingers going. Caleb doesn’t really do much aside from grow ever so slightly redder in the face.
Without further preamble, Fjord finally moves his hand to meet Caleb’s torso. It’s like the wizard has been hit with a successful Thunderwave—his whole body jolts before tensing up so tightly he trembles. Continuing the fluttering from before, Fjord traces across the space between Caleb’s two lowest ribs and grins when Caleb lets out something between a giggle and a whine.
“Gods, you’re so easy to rile up, you know that?”
Caleb’s giggling picks up at Fjord’s words. He’d have pity on the wizard if it wasn’t so adorable. Still gently teasing at the softness of Caleb’s lower ribs, the half-orc leans forward until his mouth is right next to his victim’s ear.
“You’re just that ticklish, huh?”
Caleb thrashes, throwing his head from side to side so rapidly Fjord would be worried the human would hurt himself if he hadn’t watched this happen numerous times before. For good measure, he lets his fingers drift up Caleb’s ribs and lets out a small laugh himself as the giggles morph into airy, full-blown laughter. Exactly as planned.
“So you and Essek,” Fjord says casually as he straightens back up, pitching his voice a little louder to be heard over Caleb’s bubbly laughter. The wizard definitely seems to register his words if the cut-off gasp and even more desperate wiggles are any indication. Fjord laughs a little to himself at the adorable way Caleb scrunches his nose when the increased movement does little to deter his attack. Taking a little pity, Fjord pushes on, his free fingers swirling tight circles up and down Caleb’s right side.
“You know he likes you too, right?”
Fjord’s not exactly sure humans are supposed to turn that shade of red, but Jester’s got healing spells to spare right now, so he continues.
“And as amusing as it is watching you two dance around each other, it’s getting a bit old.”
“B-bitte, Fjord—!”
Caleb’s own laughter cuts off whatever plea was going to escape next. The wizard flops his head a bit side to side, like if he shakes enough he’ll clear Fjord’s words like trapped water from his ears. It’s downright precious and one hundred percent ineffective.
Adjusting his grip on Caleb’s wrists, Fjord lets his fingers trail up his captive’s ribs in the same slow pace he knows will drive Caleb up the damn wall. It’s a little impressive, actually, how easily this light tickling can take their resident wizard apart. Particularly useful at certain times. He can feel Caleb trembling under him, laughs high and desperate as the light tracing fingertips slowly migrate up to what both Jester and Molly affectionately refer to as his worst “death spots.”
“So, here’s my idea.”
His fingers flutter just below the space where his holsters normally are—fortunate Caleb feels comfortable and safe enough to remove them when at the house—and the wizard groans through his laughter.
“Either you promise that you’ll confess to Essek the next time he’s around, or I’ll just have to keep tickling you forever. How’s that sound?”
“Wh-aaat? Bitte, no, that is e-eehviil!”
“That’s kind of the point, bud,” Fjord replies around another laugh of his own. He floats his fingers up the scant few millimeters to the space between Caleb’s uppermost ribs without prompting and hopes that the wail the human lets out doesn’t worry the rest of the Nein. (It shouldn’t, not with the frequency Caleb makes noises like that.)
“I’m not letting up until you tell me the first words out of your mouth when you see Essek next are ‘Can we talk somewhere privately, Shadowhand?’” Fjord pitches his voice into a terrifically awful imitation of a Zemnian accent that has Caleb laughing, somehow, even harder. Though, on second thought, that might have more to do with the rapid little scribbles he’s got focused on the space above Caleb’s top rib than his attempt at accentwork.
Unsurprisingly, Caleb doesn’t say anything much in response, instead throwing all of his effort into laughing and squirming ineffectively. Fjord keeps a careful ear out for any hint of the safeword Jester had insisted everyone know about and respect upon pain of near-death, but the only thing coming out of Caleb is whimpered begging and a spray of foreign curses. Perfect.
Fjord takes a split second to send a silent apology to Jester, who will no doubt be massively upset she missed out on assisting Fjord with this bit of encouragement, but this was his game right now, dammit, and it was time to go for the kill.
(Would it be worth the inevitable tickling the blue tiefling would dish out later? Most definitely.)
“Alright, well, suit yourself, Widogast.”
With that, Fjord moves the tickling to Caleb’s exposed underarm and focuses the entirety of his attention on making the human melt.
With an impressive amount of core strength, Caleb attempts to jackknife in half to throw Fjord off. Fortunately, their wizard’s tricks are well known by now. Fjord barely budges as he keeps up the spidering under Caleb’s arm, letting his fingers trail just the slightest bit up the underside of Caleb’s bicep before reversing back down to the soft spot just above Caleb’s uppermost rib.
The fight drains out of the mage just as quickly as it revved up, leaving him loose and floppy and lost in the throws of his own cackling. Fjord would feel bad if he didn’t know how much Caleb was enjoying himself. Time to step things up a notch.
“You know how to get me to stop, Caleb. Do you really like the thought of me tickling you like this more than the idea of confessing to a crush you know is damn-well mutual? Really seems like it.”
More wailing, more thrashing, but still, no dice. Maybe a slightly different approach…
“Gods above, you’re just too ticklish for your own good, aren’t you?”
As always, Caleb responds viscerally to the mere word and that, of all things, seems to be the final straw.
“Scheiße, bitte! Habt mitleid! Ohhkay, I pr-promise!”
“You promise what?”
“Oh please, I caa-aan’t—!”
Fjord shifts from light tracing along Caleb’s top ribs to a solid press of his palm, steadying the human as his laughter slowly eases up. After a few gulps of air, Caleb continues.
“I will tell Essek how I truly feel when we next encounter him, I swear to you!”
“You’re absolutely promising me you’ll spill about your deep, undying love for Essek Thelyss the very moment he’s within twenty yards of you?” Fjord taunts, curling his fingers back into a claw at Caleb’s right side. The human tenses and anticipatory giggles start bubbling from him almost instantly.
“Ja, ja, I a-ahh-m!”
“Good!” Fjord says brightly, pulling his hand away from Caleb’s squirming form. He smiles down at Caleb, who looks about ready to protest the large hand still pining his wrists to the sofa, before lowering himself to speak directly into the wizard’s ear.
“And maybe after you two have worked everything out, I’ll have a little chat with Essek myself about how much you like this particular method of torture.”
Caleb looks a bit like he’s swallowed a toad.
“F-fjord, mein Gott, wait—”
“I’m sure Molly and Jester would be more than happy to help me tell him all of the best ways to tickle you senseless, hmm? They’re tieflings, you know how honest they get when tickling comes up. They’ll just gush about how much you love it when we wreck you until you can’t remember your own name.”
He isn’t even tickling him anymore, but Caleb is giggling, light and bubbly and tortured, all from Fjord’s teasing alone.
“Hell, maybe we’ll all get you the next time Essek comes by the tower. How’d you like that, him watching you get tickled by every single one of us until you cry and knowing you love every minute of it?”
Caleb’s just babbling in Zemnian through his laughter, eyes squeezed shut and a grin pulling wide at his lips.
“D’you think he’d join in if we asked him to?”
Caleb just keeps laughing. Fjord grins. Mission successful.
64 notes · View notes
bonjour-rainycity · 4 years ago
Text
Cold Shoulder
Pairing: Aragorn x Female Reader
Rating: T 
Disclaimer: I am not making any money from this nor do I own anything recognizable. Also, I edited after a glass of wine. So. I think I shall blame any mistakes on that. 
Word count: 2317
Warnings: Mild descriptions of violence
Request: Aragorn x Reader where he protects the reader but she is mad at him because of that and gives him a silent shoulder. Much fluff please (Anon)
A/n Anon, thank you for the request!! I enjoyed writing this and love me some Aragorn content <3 Also, for context, I placed the reader in the Fellowship. Okay, read on!
The sharp cry pierces the peace of the early morning.
“Orcs!”
Legolas, who had been standing watch and discovered the threat, immediately begins firing arrows, keeping the pack at bay. The rest of us spring into action, drawing weapons and shouldering our bags, looking to Aragorn to determine our next move. Despite the jolt of fear that runs through me, I know that luck is on our side. For one, our group had planned to set out shortly, meaning our camp is packed and we run no risk of leaving anything behind. Second, it was Legolas on watch, and his keen eyesight gave us critical early warning.
I feel a rough hand wrap around mine, and I’m yanked into a sprint. I nearly stumble at the speed Aragorn sets, but force myself to keep pace. A quick look at my surroundings tells me why we’re running — our camp is secluded, but there are too many high spots around us for it to be favorable in a fight. I can assume that we are making for higher or more open ground, so that we will not be at a disadvantage when the orc pack inevitably catches us.
There’s a muffled yelp, and I whip my head around to see Frodo tripping and falling roughly to the ground.
“Aragorn—” His name has barely left my lips when I feel his hands on my back, spurring me on, and he leaves my side, running back to aid our hobbit friend. Closer than I would like, the wails of the orc grow louder, and, at my right, Boromir speeds up, hauling Merry along with him.
The three of us break through the tree-line first, and immediately, an arrow whizzes above my head.
Damn it, they cut us off!
I don’t have much time to dwell on how the monsters got around us unnoticed, because a tall, imposing orc lunges in my direction. I raise my dagger and put all my focus into not letting the orc’s razor-sharp sword pierce my skin.
The shrieks and grunts of battle, as well as the shrill clanking of metal hitting metal fill the air. The orc jabs his sword at me, and I jump to my left. As the orc takes another swing, an arrow soars mere millimeters from my ear and imbeds itself in my attacker’s eye. I don’t even have time to shoot Legolas a thankful glance, because another beast catches my arm and pulls me against his foul-smelling side. I swipe at his arm with my dagger, and with a howl of pain, he throws me to the ground, raising his sword. I roll to the side, narrowly dodging the slice of steel, and push myself back to my feet. The orc is distracted, struggling with his weapon which is embedded in the ground, leaving the side of his neck exposed. I lift my dagger, and step forward, intent on ending this fight—
An arm grips my waist and pulls me back, moving me out of the way and slaying the orc.
I gawk at Aragorn, who, with the focused eyes of battle, rips his sword free of the orc’s neck and spins, killing a beast to his right.
“I had it,” I shout over the noise, unable to contain my frustration.
Aragorn straightens to face me, eyes wide. “Your back!”
Immediately, I turn on my heel and raise my dagger, pushing against the knife meant to impale my unguarded back. The orc is stronger than me, but if I can hold him off for just a few seconds more, I can reach for my other dagger and stab him in the stomach. As my hand twitches towards my belt, a sword passes around my side, impaling the orc with a sickening squelch.
Once again, I fix Aragorn with disbelieving eyes.
What was the point of investing all that time training me if I don’t get to use any of said training?!
The sounds of battle begin to fade, and, with a final swing of Gimili’s axe, the fighting is done.
We take stock of our injuries which are, thankfully, minor, and pull the dead orc deep into the tree line, not wanting to draw attention to our path. After the quickest of rests and a wash-up in the stream, we continue, Aragorn insisting that we cannot take any unnecessary delays now that we have orc interested in us.
We begin our trek, mostly in tired silence.
At the front of the group, Aragorn and Legolas do a mixture of scouting and chatting, seeming more relaxed the farther we get from the site of the attack. Aragorn doesn’t usually walk with me, preferring instead to lead with Legolas and keep an eye out for danger. Usually, I wish he would stay by my side, but today, I am grateful for the distance, as I’m not feeling too kindly towards him at the moment. I can’t stop myself from glaring at his back, resenting him taking away my right to handle myself in battle. But after an hour of lonely overthinking, resentment gives way to insecurity. What if he only jumped in because he thinks I’m weak? He’s probably not the only one…compared to everyone else, what advantages do I have? They probably all, to some extent, see me as a burden.
Gimli jogs up next to me, fixing me with a mildly concerned look.
“You alright, lassie? Not hurt, are ya?”
Aragorn’s head tilts in our direction. He’s listening.
Unable to contain my annoyance at his continued monitoring, I huff. “I’m fine, Gimli, thanks. Just tired.”
Gimli looks at the ground, seemingly unable to reconcile my usual friendliness with this foul mood. “Aye, well, t’is to be expected, after the morning we had. You fought well.”
I cross my arms, cocking my head to the side. “Did I? Because, as I remember it, I was barely allowed to fight at all.”
At this, I hear light sniggering behind me, and whip my head around to see a quickly composed Merry and Pippin looking anywhere but me.
Gimli makes a sighing, almost grumbling noise, and walks off to join his friends at the front of the group. Aragorn hangs back a little, waiting for me to catch up before resuming a slower pace.
“What troubles you?”
Getting right to the chase, then.
I huff angrily, my annoyance from this morning only growing now that I’ve had hours to stew about it. Because really, I am well-trained, I am capable, and he had no business neglecting his own safety to help me when I wasn’t in any actual danger. I had it all under control! And rather than feeling like a warrior equal with my companions, I feel like a girl who just slows them down and needs babysitting.
Aragorn stops walking and grips my elbow lightly, pulling me to stop with him. “I cannot help you if I don’t know what’s wrong.”
I glare at him. Can I handle nothing on my own?! “Well, maybe I don’t want your help, Aragorn.”
He sighs, sounding frustrated, but lets me go.
Neither of us makes an attempt to talk to the other for the remainder of our hike.
{***}
We stop when it is well and properly dark, making hasty camp. I drop my bedroll and begin preparing for the night, cleaning my dagger and shoes as best I can. The others sit on rocks near the fire, eyeing me warily.
Pippin elbows Merry and hisses in a low voice,“go and talk to her, something’s obviously wrong with her.”
Merry’s eyes grow comically wide, and he fixes his friend with an indignant expression. “Why does it have to be me, then?! I don’t want to get yelled at.”
“Because I checked on Frodo last Thursday when he was in a mood, and now it’s your turn.”
“I didn’t realize we were taking turns,” Merry whisper-shouts, oblivious to the fact that everyone can hear their argument just fine.
Sam fixes them with a pleading look before glancing over to me. “Miss Y/n, do you not want supper?” He hesitantly holds a bowl in my general direction.
“No, thank you,” I respond, cooler than intended. He blinks at me for a moment, and then hands the bowl to an amused Boromir.
I feel the weight of everyone’s questioning stares, hear their hushed whispers, and cannot take it one moment longer.
“I’m going to get more firewood,” I declare, tucking my dagger back into my belt and trudging deeper into the forest.
The woods are dark, but there is sufficient light from the moon, and I pick my way through the trees, looking for fallen logs and branches. I don’t stray to where I can no longer hear the voices of my friends, though — I may be angry, but I’m not stupid.
Less than two minutes later, the sound of light footsteps creeps into my hearing.
Aragorn walks to my side, bending to grasp and examine a log that might make for good firewood. He doesn’t look at me when he speaks. “Sam put aside some soup for you, though I would not delay if you wish to eat it. I saw Pippin eyeing it with interest.”
When I don’t laugh or give any indication that I heard him, he shifts on his feet, unsure. “I feel tension between us. I’ve upset you?”
I make a noncommittal noise and go a few yards deeper in the forest.
“Y/n?”
With a resigned sigh, I turn to face him, knowing that my silence is hurting him. “It’s stupid.”
Obviously pleased that I’m speaking to him now, Aragorn takes quick steps towards me, wearing an open expression. “If I have done something to hurt you, you have every right to be upset.”
I resist the urge to groan. Stop being so good and noble, it makes it hard to stay mad at you. I reign in my frustrations and sigh, forcing myself to look him in the eyes. “I feel like the weakest link. I’m the youngest, the only woman, I don’t possess any special abilities or extensive battle experience. I put a lot of work into being competent with my daggers, and still there are days when I question my right to be here with you all. So when you jump in to protect me, well-intentioned as you may be, I feel like a child that needs looking after rather than someone capable of standing her own ground.”
His face falls, and discomfort spreads in my stomach. But before I can apologize and take back my words, he offers his hands, and I take them gratefully.
“I did not consider how my actions would make you feel, though I understand now. Forgive me, Y/n?”
At his heartfelt words, my anger ebbs away. I use my grip on his hands to pull him closer and rest my forehead against his chest. “Of course.”
He pulls back slightly to bring my hands to his lips, pressing kisses on my knuckles. “I intervened during the fight not because I think you incapable, but because I wanted to keep you as much removed from the danger as possible. You are precious to me, Y/n. I won’t risk losing you.”
At this, he leans his forehead against mine, and I can’t help how I soften at his words. I didn’t think about it like that. “There is the slightest possibility that I may have accidentally overreacted a little.”
Aragorn rewards me with a deep chuckle, one I can feel vibrating through his chest, and shakes his head against mine. “Are you sure, my love? I think ignoring me all day was a completely proportionate response.”
I roll my eyes at the dripping sarcasm in his voice and raise a hand to smack his chest. Before I can get anywhere near him, his own hand shoots out and grabs my wrist —  an act that has me grumbling in irritation and him shaking with laughter. Once he regains composure, he brings my wrist to his lips and places the softest of kisses there, watching my face carefully for my reaction.
I look away, trying to distract myself from the fluttering in my stomach. He trails a line of kisses up my forearm, and I scramble for something to say before my brain gets scattered beyond help. “For the record, you mean the world to me and I would defend you in battle too, if the need were to arise.”
His lips pause against my skin. I turn my head back to him to see that he’s, much to my annoyance, trying to fight a smile. Unable to school his smirk, he raises his head, still holding my hand in his. “I thank you, dearest, but I hardly believe that will be necessary. I’ve been battling for decades, I can handle a few stray orc.”
I step back out of his embrace, crossing my arms and regarding him with raised eyebrows.
He realizes his mistake.
“Oh—um, I meant, I—”
I shake my head. “No, you know what? Not ‘should the need arise’, I’ll just do it anyway! Next fight, you better watch out buddy, I’m throwing myself in front of anything that comes at you!”
His eyes blow open and his voice takes on a strangled quality. “Y/n, please don’t, that’s just unnecessary—”
“Nope!” I stomp away from him, picking up branches at random. “You brought this upon yourself. Get ready to be defended!”
Before walking back to camp, I turn to give him a sickeningly sweet smile. “I love you.”
Aragorn dramatically drops his head into his hands. “I shall die from stress.”
Our companions, who obviously heard our argument, roar with laughter.
A/n Thank you for reading! If you have a moment, I’d love it if you could check out my masterlist! Thank you :)
217 notes · View notes
malghra · 3 years ago
Text
Tumblr media
I’m not a bad girl, but I do bad things with you
Darklina Week Day 4: Fairy Tales: Darklina Red Riding Hood / Company of Wolves AU
Title from Talyor Swift's So it goes, Rating: M
Winter had been hard on Old Baghra and Ana Kuya was worried about her, so she decided that Alina should make the trip to her cottage on the other side of the woods to bring her some food and kvas. On her way there, Alina meets a stranger...
Tumblr media
Winter had been hard on Old Baghra and the staff at Duke Keramsov's household were worried about her, so it was decided that Alina should make the trip to her cottage on the other side of the woods to bring her some food and kvas. The fastest way to get there was through the forest, but Ana Kuya had warned Alina that the woods were dangerous and that she should never stray from the path.
She'd nodded eagerly, mostly to avoid one of Ana Kuya's lectures on acts of kindness and the importance of community, but behind her back Alina had sulked and pouted. It was one of the first sunny days of the year and she'd wanted to spend it in the meadow with Mal. But now she'd have to spend her day struggling through the forest with a heavy basket.
She took her red shawl from the hook on the door, wrapping it around her shoulders, and decided to go and find Mal anyway. He would go with her if she asked.
They were almost outside the front gate, when they heard Ana Kuya call out to them. "Malyen Oretsev, where do you think you're going?"
They exchanged a look and Alina bit her lip. Should they try to make a run for it? Unfortunately, Ana Kuya was closer than they'd thought.
Mal turned around and answered her question innocently. "I'm going with Alina to bring this basket to Old Baghra."
"And did I tell you to do this?" she asked in exasperation. "You need to stay here."
"But you said the woods aren't safe!" Alina objected. "Mal should come with me, to protect me!"
That earned her an ear boxing, and Mal was sent away to help the young men as they started repairs on the house after the long winter.
By the time Alina entered the forest, Ana Kuya's warnings had already slipped to the back of her mind.
Winter had passed and now that spring was reigning, the woods had never looked more beautiful. The trees were blooming, flower springing up along the path, and the moss and ferns covering the forest floor and scattered rocks were the green of emeralds, drops of dew that had not yet disappeared making them sparkle like the gems they resembled in the sunlight filtering through the leaves.
She took in the enchantment of it all with wide eyes and quickly forgot about the dangers that might be lurking. The trees and brushes were alive with animals awaking after the long lull of winter and the song of birds was filling both the forest and Alina's heart with joy. She hadn't gotten far when she could no longer resist joining them in their singing.
She sang as one would only sing when they are alone, so as was bound to happen, she soon discovered she was not alone at all. The man appeared from a gap between the trees some three feet ahead of her, stopping her in her tracks.
He stood there looking at her, arms loosely crossed over his chest and his head cocked to the left. He was tall and slender, with a shock of dark hair and dressed in black wool and leathers. Alina closed her mouth, realizing she was staring at him. "Good day to you, sir," she called out.
"And good day to you, milaya," he answered as he started strolling over to her. The hairs on the back of her neck rose and she tried to remember what Ana Kuya had said about strange men.
"Please, zolotse, do not stop your singing on my behalf, I was quite enjoying it," he told her, holding her gaze.
His words pleased her, but she could feel heat flushing her cheeks. He blinked slowly, licking his lips and Alina's heart sped up inside her chest.
"May I walk with you for a spell?" he asked, his slate grey eyes open and kind.
Despite herself, she nodded and clutched the basket she was carrying a little closer to her body.
They walked in silence for a while, until he asked, "What's your name, milashka?"
"Alina," she answered breathlessly.
"Alina," he repeated, as if trying to taste it on his tongue, and the way his lips curled around her name sent a shiver down her spine.
"I am Aleksander," he added with a smile which didn't really look like a smile all that much, even if she couldn't decide why.
She glanced over at his face as they walked. He had a sharp and smug look about him, a bit dour even perhaps, she mused, but when he met her eyes or offered her that odd smile, something fluttered deep inside her stomach.
"What do you have inside that basket of yours?" Aleksander asked.
"Food and kvas for Old Baghra. She lives near the bridge three miles south of the creek," she answered him.
For a brief moment, Alina could have sworn that a shadow passed over his face, but then he exclaimed,"But you're taking the long way!" his eyes wide and innocent.
"Of course not," she countered with a smile. "The fastest way is through the woods."
"Yes," he agreed, "It is. Through the woods, but you are following the path."
"Ana Kuya told me not to stray from the path," she mumbled, hating how silly she must sound to him.
He offered her a half-smile. "Ah, you're a good girl, aren't you? I bet you do every little thing your mother tells you to do, now don't you?"
She narrowed her eyes at him, her face flushing with anger this time, and he barked out a laugh.
"Ana Kuya is not my mother!" she spat at him. "I'm an orphan!"
"Ah, I see," he muttered matter-of-factly, and she was oddly grateful for the lack of pity in his voice and eyes.
They walked in silence, until Aleksander muttered her name again, and Alina automatically glanced up at him.
"Why exactly did Ana Kuya tell you not to stray from the path?" he asked her, head cocked to the side again.
"I..." she opened and closed her mouth. "She said it was dangerous," she told him, picking up her pace.
He easily kept up with her. "But why?" he wanted to know.
She bit her lip. She wasn't about to admit that she didn't know why. "It's better if we stay on the path."
He raised an eyebrow. "We? You can stay on the path if you like, lapushka, but I'll bet you I can get there faster than you can."
Her hands tightened on the handle of the basket. She nodded.
"Very well," he said. "Of course, I'll need a prize if I win the bet, wouldn't you agree?"
He held her gaze, but Alina didn't look away.
"What kind of prize?" she breathed, her voice betraying her.
"How about a kiss?" he asked.
Her heart started hammering again, closing up her throat and making it impossible to speak as her eyes dropped to his full lips. She glanced up to meet his eyes and nodded.
"Let me take your basket," he offered.
She handed it to him and then watched him disappear between the trees. She began walking faster, determined to win the bet. A kiss, she thought as her feet carried her down the path. She'd never been kissed before, but she tried to imagine it. She wondered if his lips would feel as soft as they looked.
Perhaps she wouldn't mind losing the bet. Perhaps she wouldn't mind being kissed by this odd but exciting stranger. She realized she'd slowed down again and looked around, taking in her surroundings. To her left, there was a small clearing between the trees which was filled with blue flowers.
Perhaps she wouldn't mind making sure that he won the bet. Perhaps it would be for the best if she didn't take any chances. She abandoned the path and walked into the clearing to pick some flowers and weave them into a crown. That would give him enough of a headstart to get there first.
Alina ended up lingering there for a longer time than she'd intended, singing under her breath and picking all of the prettiest flowers, but eventually she'd made her way to Old Baghra's cottage. It was already getting dark and the wind filled the evening with a menacing chill, but Alina didn't shiver, she had her shawl to keep her warm.
There was no sign of the stranger called Aleksander, so she knocked on the door and called out: "Baghra, it's Alina!"
No answer came.
"Baghra," she repeated a little louder than the first time. She tried knocking on the door again and slowly, it creaked open. As soon as she stepped inside, the warm and dusty, musky air inside filled her nostrils, making her sneeze and cough. A clattering noise came from the far side of the room.
Old Baghra was nowhere to be seen, but perched on the bed in the corner of the hut was her dark stranger.
Suddenly he was on his feet and the door clicked shut. She turned around to find him standing close to her, his eyes glowing in the dusk. It was quiet inside, except for the rattling still coming from the corner of the room.
"What big eyes you have," she whispered, clutching the ends of her shawl around her shoulders.
"All the better to see you with, Alina," he replied.
She was about to turn around to examine the annoying clunking noise she kept hearing, when a chorus of howls rose up all around the hut. She hissed, startled by the sound.
"Those are my brothers," the wolf told her.
She turned to look out the window, but it was too dark to see. "It's getting really cold outside," she whispered. He was standing right behind her, so close she could feel the heat rolling off his body.
She whirled around, clutching his forearms to steady herself. "What big arms you have," she muttered.
He leaned in until his nose was almost touching hers. "All the better to hold you with," he said.
She averted her eyes, her breath catching in her throat, and she licked her lips as her eyes fell on his mouth. She remembered she'd promised him a kiss. She angled her face up until she could press her lips to his.
Outside the wolves started howling again. It sounds like a song, she thought, a joyous song.
His lips parted under her attention and she pulled his soft bottom lip between her own. She felt something wet and warm nudge her lip.
"Your prize," she explained as she pulled away.
He smiled that odd smile, his teeth gleaming in the dark.
"What big teeth you have," she whispered.
His smile grew wider, showing even more of his teeth. "All the better to eat you with, lapushka."
In the corner where the bed stood, the clamouring resumed.
"Did you eat Old Baghra?" Alina asked.
He nodded slowly, raising his eyebrows.
She didn't know how to feel about that. "She was old and ugly and smelly. I bet she didn't taste very nice," she piped up.
"Not really, no," he admitted, burying his nose in her hair and inhaling deeply. "But you are young and pretty and you smell like flowers. I bet you'd taste sweet."
She giggled and objected, "I'm not a piece of meat."
He chuckled softly. "Show me, Alinushka."
She unwrapped her shawl and let it drop to the floor. She could feel his eyes on her as her fingers unlaced the bodice of her dress. He sucked in a sharp breath as it slid down her body and pooled at her feet. After that she removed her chemise and let it join the heap at her feet.
His eyes followed her as she walked to the bed and lay down on it, waiting for him to follow.
He started undressing and she bit her lip as her mesmerized eyes drank in his body. But when his last piece of clothing hit the floor, the man was gone and an enormous black wolf with glowing red eyes was standing there instead.
The wolf leapt up on the bed and even though Alina's heart was pounding inside her chest, she found that she was not afraid. The wolf lay down next to her, placing its huge head in her lap, and whined softly.
She patted its ears and neck and the wolf nuzzled at her belly and her maidenhair. Suddenly, instead of black fur, she was clasping thick strands of dark hair between her fingers. The wolf was a man again.
He pushed her thighs apart and pressed his lips to her most intimate place. His warm, wet tongue nudged her lower lips, slipping in between them.
"Yes, you taste sweet, lapushka," Aleksander told her in a rough voice. His eyes were dark and ravenous, but they didn't scare her.
"Kiss me," she begged him, so he did.
Alina had been warned to stay away from dark strangers, and she had been told that only wicked girls let dangerous men take their precious maidenheads, but she gave hers up willingly and called her dark wolf husband. The blood staining the sheets was as bright as her pretty red shawl, but it didn't disturb her as she slept peacefully under a starless sky, safely wrapped up in the embrace of his tender darkness.
54 notes · View notes
the-bau-quinjet · 4 years ago
Text
Every Little Thing.
Part 3!! You can find all the info about why this is such a mess in Part 1 and read Part 2 here! This is the last part sort of. I’m planning on an epilogue of sorts though!
Summary: Reader is a famous singer with a murderous stalker. Spencer has to go undercover to protect her.
warnings: mentions of murder, anxious reader, stalker
Word Count: 8681
Tumblr media
The next time you open your eyes, the first thing you see is the shadow of an unknown person looming over you. Your instincts are screaming danger and without thinking about it, you start fighting your way out of their hands. They are trying to restrain you, so you fight back harder. You can’t stop hearing the lamp crashing on your head. It’s reminding you over and over of the danger you are in. Your self-defense training kicks in when the person wraps an arm across our chest. Afterwards, you think it should have occurred to you that the person wasn’t really fighting back so much as trying to calm you down, but you’ll blame your poor observational skills on adrenaline. It just all happened so fast.
You form your hands into “large claws” as the instructor called them in class, and swiftly shove them between your body and the arm of the attacker. Gripping the arm, you throw your weight diagonally forward, curling your body in toward your left knee. You end in a one legged kneel, having thrown the person over your shoulder. The thud they made upon hitting the floor was highly satisfying, until you looked down and recognized the face.
 Derek Morgan was staring at you from his new found position on the floor, you kneeling over him with a slightly crazed look in your eye. You would start apologizing, but you are so stunned you don’t move until Morgan gets up and guides you back to the couch.
 Apparently the team had been trying to reach you or Reid for a while. Neither of you answered, for reasons that were obvious now, so the team rushed over to check on you. Nobody mentions how you just threw Derek over your body as if he were a ragdoll. It doesn’t seem like the time to be joking around.
 You tell them everything you can remember, starting with everything you told Spencer about the man you recognized and ending with the sound of the lamp cracking over your head. You’re surprised you didn’t cry through the whole story. Maybe you’re out of tears, physically unable to produce any more because your tear ducts dried up. If Spencer were here he’d tell you some fact about how your tear ducts never really dry out, your body just becomes dehydrated and water is diverted to more essential tasks.
 At the thought of Spencer, a few tears do spring to your eyes. “Why would he take him? I was right here! He could’ve just taken me and been done with it. Oh, god. I was right there and I couldn’t stop him. No, no, no no no nonono.” You can feel all the signs of panic setting in, but you don’t have the power to stop them on your own. The team is trying to help you. They are, but you don’t hear them. You’re too worried about what is currently happening to Spencer.
 It feels like time has slowed down. It’s like you’re swimming through syrup, desperately trying to stay above the surface, but the liquid is heavy and it’s sticky and it’s pulling you down. You hear what people are saying to you, but the words don’t make sense in your brain. They might as well be talking to a toddler, because all you can do is babble incoherently and point at the pieces of lamp on the ground.  
 You are relieving the same two scenes over and over. The look on his face when you made eye contact in the park. Then the sound of the lamp hitting your skull in the dark. The look on his face. The sound of the lamp. The look. The sound. His face. The lamp. It’s repeating in a never ending cycle. Your brain is moving so fast, you’re combining the two experiences. Logically, you know it was way too dark to see him holding the lamp, but you can see it clear as day in your head.
 He’s walking across the room. He stops to pick up the lamp. He’s got both hands wrapped around it, as if he needed all the force he could possible create. HI lifts it above his head, and crash- wait. He’s holding the lamp like a mic stand. He’s holding the lamp like a mic stand!
 “The lamp!” Your exclamation is so loud, Hotch looks as if he could’ve been surprised.
 “He hit you with the lamp. We know.” Morgan’s voice is soothing, but your brain is moving through everything too fast to listen. You must look certifiably insane.
 “No, the way he held the lamp.” Your brain is moving too fast for the words coming out of your mouth to catch up.
 “You said it was too dark to see anything. How do you know how he held the lamp?” JJ looks confused more than anything at your behavior.
 “I don’t. I mean, I do. I don’t know.” You’re being pulled back to the couch again. It’s as if the syrup has you in a bubble. You’re moving at a different frequency than the rest of them. You’re in a daze, not speaking as clearly as you are thinking.
 “Y/N.” Hotch says your name with such a commanding presence, you’re focus is returned to the team. They’re staring at you with various expressions. Rossi looks so concerned you can’t help but think of the song you started for him. He really is the parental type. The rest of the team wear expressions that perfectly balance confusion, concern, and worry. Except for Hotch. He looks as stoic as ever, but there is a glint in his eye that seems to indicate he’s worried. “What about the lamp?”
 “You’re right. I didn’t see the lamp in his hands. It was too dark.” This clears the confusion, but the concern and worry haven’t left their faces. “I can picture it though. And in my head, he was holding the lamp like I would hold a mic stand if I was trying to adjust the height.” You mime the grip in front of you. “That’s a weird fucking way to hold a lamp. So, why would I picture that?” They give you sympathetic looks, but nobody has an answer for you. 
You’ve risen from the couch to pace back and forth across the room. The team starts speculating where the unsub would’ve taken Spencer, but you’re not listening. You are so sure there’s a reason you picture the lamp like that. You aren’t paying attention to them, and they aren’t paying attention to you. At least, that’s what you thought. You’re practically muttering to yourself when you figure it out. “I’ve seen him adjust a mic stand.” Hotch must have ears like an elephant because his head instantly swivels in your direction. You make the briefest of eye contact, a small smile forming on your face as you dart back toward the team.
 “You’ve seen him before yesterday?” Hotch asks, cutting off the conversation currently going on between the agents. The group turns toward you, just realizing you’re no longer walking in circles talking to yourself.
 “Yes. Yes, I’ve seen him adjust a mic stand. That must be why I pictured it like that in my head. The lamp I mean.” Hotch gives you a gentle nudge, encouraging you to reach a conclusion. “He works on the crew. His first show was the Louisville show.” Morgan already has Garcia on the phone, narrowing down the names for newer hires only.
 “That’s still 42 names.” You can hear her nerves through the phone, and you’ve only met her once.
 “Right, we hire a lot of new people for the US leg of the tour. It’s usually the biggest part.” You try to remember anything else about this man, wishing you had Spencer’s memory.
 “Y/N, what else can you remember about him?” JJ’s words are gentle, but the look in her eyes is anything but. It is her best friend that’s missing.
 “I don’t know. He’s never talked to me. I tried to introduce myself once and he just awkwardly ran away. The other crew guys he was working with, though they said something though.” You start tapping the side of your head, trying to recall the memory from nearly a month ago. “They said he’s been like that since he started. A little shy, I mean. They thought he was star struck.” You know they said something else, but it feels like you’re trying to catch individual grains of sand. You can just barely see them before they land in the water, fading away. “His name! One of them said his name. Jake or John or something with a J.”
 “Three names.” The hope was evident in the way Garcia said the two simple words.
 “What are they? I know they said his last name too, it’s just harder to remember because I didn’t talk to him personally.”
 “Jacob Hawthorne-“
 “No, it’s not him. He works in lighting, great guy. Cute kids.”
“Jordan Crawford”
 “No, he’s a set designer. I talk to him all the time about switching things up between shows.”
 “Last one, Joshua Gr-“
 “Graves! Josh Graves That’s the name. That’s him!”
 “Y/N, stay here. Agent Anderson will make sure you’re safe.” You can still hear his commanding voice as he leaves the room with the rest of the team. “Garcia, look for addresses where he-” The door swings shut, cutting you off from the rest of the information.
 You gave Agent Anderson a small wave, asking if he wanted coffee or tea. You were still trying to be a good host, even if the room was a crime scene.
 Crime scene. Suddenly, the idea of staying in this room any longer made you feel physically ill. You threw on a pair of sweatpants and a baseball hat, grabbing your keys as you headed for the door. Before Agent Anderson, or Grant as he introduced himself, could speak a word of protest, you had the door open.
 “I can’t be in that room anymore. We can go wherever you want, I just can’t stay there.” He nodded in understanding, but still looked nervous at the idea of ignoring Hotch’s order to stay put.
 The elevator doors opened to a mostly deserted lobby. You instantly walk over to the small café tucked into the corner. The barista recognizes you immediately, reaching for a bag as if you had already ordered.
 “Ms. L/N, a man ordered this for you earlier. He said to give it to you as soon possible, but I didn’t want to wake you up since it’s still so early.” She has a sweet smile on her face, one you try to return but fail miserably.
 “Thank you.” You’re far too stressed to worry about who ordered you a pastry before 5:45 in the morning on a day you were definitely not planning on being up this early. Agent Anderson, though? He was suspicious.
 As you sat down in the arm chairs just outside of the shop, he politely asked for the bag.
 “Why?” You said it with genuine confusion, but apparently he wasn’t actually asking. He had the bag open and the contents dumped onto the table in a matter of seconds. A blueberry muffin, you’re favorite, and a napkin topple onto the surface of the table in front of you.
 “Are FBI agents trained to waste perfectly good muffins?” It’s hard to hide the slight mirth in your voice as you stare at the muffin that rolled of the table and onto the floor. Grant must not have heard you, or maybe he just chose to ignore you. He was still looking at the napkin. He took a picture on his phone before finally returning his attention to you. Of course, now your attention was trained on the napkin. It was your turn to move quickly, sliding it over to you and holding it out to prevent him from taking it back. The message on it was written in sloppy, rushed handwriting, but it was still legible.
 “You belong with me. Not him.”
“His story is bound to have dust on every page when I’m done with him.”
“The slope was treacherous, the path reckless.”
“Do you think there’s enough blank space for him?”
 You aren’t proud of the first thought that popped into your head. It was true, but you still would’ve liked to think your first thought would somehow tell you where Spencer was. Or at least be about Spencer, but no.
 So rude of him to use my own lyrics for this. 
 You moved passed it quickly though, ignoring the fear you felt at seeing an unreleased lyric in front of you. There must be some sort of clue in the note. Why would he leave it for me if he doesn’t want me to find him? Grant managed to snatch the napkin out of your hand, but you had already read it. The damage was done.
 “Y/N. You cannot leave this hotel. The team will find him. They know what they’re doing.” His words were a warning. One you intended to ignore.
 “Fine. I’m going to get another muffin.” You tried to sound normal, but that’s probably what gave you away. Nobody would sound normal in this scenario. It didn’t matter if he figured out your plan though. You had a distraction for him. You waved at the barista as you walked into the shop.
 “Hi, can I get another muffin? Accidentally dropped mine, whoops!” You smiled at her in a conspiratorial kind of way before leaning closer. “By the way, my friend over there” you nodded toward the agent who hadn’t taken his eyes off you as you walked away, “he thinks you’re cute. You should go talk to him!” Before you knew it, she was out from behind the counter, waving to her colleague to get you a muffin. She stood right in front of Grant, twirling her hair, but more importantly blocking his view of you.
 You didn’t wait for the muffin. You slipped out the side door that lead straight to the main street, repeating the clues in your head. Dust. Treacherous. Blank Space.
 Somewhere dirty, dangerous, and empty?
 Ideas are flying through your head, but they don’t make any sense. The clues aren’t specific enough to tell you everything. It has to be somewhere you’ve been. Realization hits you as if a piano just fell out of the sky.
 The arena. There was a staircase and some back rooms that were closed for construction. Dust, check. Unsafe conditions, check. Empty rooms, check. That has to be it.
 You hail a cab, texting Hotch once you are on route to your destination. You know he’s going to tell you to stay put, but you want to make sure he knows where to go.
 “The arena. They were doing construction.” You put your phone on airplane mode before returning it to your bag.
 You expect to arrive at the arena to see it surrounded by black SUVs and police cars, but everything is eerily quiet. You must have beaten them there somehow. You pay your driver before walking up to the main doors. It seems like the best plan of action is to get inside and then find the construction zone. Weirdly enough, the front door is unlocked.
 The sound of your shoes hitting the floor echoes in your mind as you wander through the building. It should be a fairly straightforward path, but you’re all turned around. Everything feels different. It’s no longer the nervous butterflies you get right before you perform. The syrup is coming back, only this time it’s pulling you in every direction except for the one you want to go in. You’re fighting your own sense of self preservation. Your brain is screaming at you to leave. You aren’t trained for this. You’re barely trained for anything that doesn’t involve music. But there is a part of you that still feels like this is all your fault. Maybe if you had just talked to him that day things would be different. You could’ve prevented all of this. Maybe…
 The sound of Spencer’s voice pulls you forward. He sounds like he’s in pain, but the words are powerful.
 “She’s not going to come. Even if she does get the note, there is no way the FBI would let her anywhere near the building.”
More guilt overwhelms you. It’s as if, all at once, the extreme stupidity of your actions hits you. You are putting Spencer’s life at risk. Hell, you are endangering the lives of any agent who has to walk into this building to protect you. You don’t know what will happen to Grant. You left him behind when all he was trying to do was protect you. You made it so he couldn’t do his job properly.
 Your body leans into the nearest wall with a soft thud. You barely heard it, but it was apparently loud enough for Joshua.
 “Someone’s hear.” His voice sounds playful, as if he’s really enjoying this. “Let’s hope for your sake it’s her.” You’re frozen in place as the footsteps grow closer and closer. You can’t hide. You can’t run. You can’t do anything except wait for him to walk around the corner and see you standing there.
 Seeing him again isn’t like you thought it would be. You thought you’d be angered. Mostly, you’re just tired. Multiple panic attacks in one day could do that to a person. You also probably had a concussion that was influencing how you processed the emotional side of everything going on.
 Seeing Spencer was different than expected as well. There was no huge wave of relief at discovering he was relatively unhurt. You felt relief, but it was like a tiny puddle surrounded by an ocean of guilt and sadness. There was mostly guilt, and no matter what anyone said before it felt different now. He was only in this position because of you. If he had not have been the one to go undercover, he wouldn’t have been targeted. And, it was your brilliant idea that landed him undercover in the first place.
 He looked so panicked at the sight of you. A flurry of emotions ran across his face before settling back into a carefully controlled blank stare.
 You wanted to run to him, but you couldn’t move. Yes, Josh was holding your arm in a grip sure to leave bruises, but your legs also felt like jelly. You kept thinking over and over that you shouldn’t have come. That you are only making everything worse. That everyone else’s jobs are so much harder now that you’ve put yourself here. Spencer must see it written on your face because the first thing he says after you enter the room is “It’s not your fault.”
 Hearing it from him, you’re almost inclined to believe it. All you can do is nod, tears springing to your eyes.
 Josh isn’t pleased with you sharing any sort of a moment with Spencer. He somehow tightens his hold on your arm, drawing a slight yelp from you. You try to remember what Hotch told you that first night. It feels like it happened months ago, but maybe you can talk your way out of this by remembering something useful. Or at least talk Spencer’s way out of it. You’ve been listening to him talk about profiling for the past week, time to put your skills to the test.
 “I’m here now. You can let him go.” You don’t know who is more shocked at your words. Yourself, Josh, or Spencer. You’ve never seen Spencer speechless, but apparently you trying to talk down a psychopath who is obsessed with you and rapidly devolving is enough to manage the feat.
 Josh pulls a gun from the waistband of his pants. He throws you into the wall before angrily pacing through the room.
 “Josh, look at me.” It takes everything in you to pretend like this is a script. As if you are playing a role in a movie. “You have me. We can be together, but you have to let Spencer go.” He’s staring right into your eyes, trying to read your thoughts.
 “You’re lying. He has to die, or he’ll always come between us.” He slowly raises the gun, not quite pointing it at any one, but enough to cause your heart rate to soar.
 “Josh, think about it. I’ve known you for so much longer than I’ve known him.” You nearly choke on the next words that come out of your mouth. “He’s not important to me. Not like you.”
 “STOP LYING TO ME. I KNOW WHAT I SAW.” Oh no. No no no. He’s frantically waving the gun around the room as you inch closer to Spencer. You notice movement near the door you came in, but you don’t have time to investigate. When Josh aims his gun at Spencer, you don’t think before you act- a recurring theme with you today. With all the grace of a newborn deer learning to walk for the first time, you jump in front of Spencer right as the gun goes off.
 You’re not sure if it’s an echo but you would’ve sworn you heard two resounding bangs instead of just one.
 Spencer catches you as you fall to the ground, bleeding from the bullet wound in your abdomen.
 “Spence,” you take a shuttering breath, trying to gain the strength to talk to him.
 “Shh, Y/N. It’s okay. You’re going to be okay.” He turns to yell at someone out of your view. “I need a medic! Now!” He sounds just as panicked as he looked earlier.
 “I’m sorry.” You squeeze his hand when he tries to interrupt you again. “I’m sorry, for coming, but not for sav-saving you. The world- it needs you to pr-pro-protect people. Th-thank you. For every,” you couch a bit as you try to get the words out. “For everything.” You know he is remembering your heartfelt speech to him and Morgan from a few days ago, or at least you hope he is. The last thing you say before your vision fades to black feels so random in comparison. “Don’t blame Grant.”
 --
“Spence,” your breathing is choppy and rough, contrasting the smooth skin beneath his fingertips as he assesses your wound.
 “Shh. Y/N. It’s okay. You’re going to be okay.” His thoughts are running wild with everything he wants to say to you, but he can’t get anything meaningful to come out. Instead he’s yelling for a medic, frantically looking at all the faces of his closest friends. “I need a medic! Now!” He can hear the panic in his voice, but no amount of training or profiling knowledge can get him to control his emotions.
 “I’m sorry.” He tries to interrupt you. To tell you it’s not your fault. That you did everything right. That Josh’s profile said he wouldn’t back down without a fight. Anything, but you squeeze his hand and he can’t breathe, let alone speak. “For coming, but not for sav-saving you. The world- it needs you to pr-pro-protect people. Th-thank you. For every,” he leans in closer, wishing he could do anything to stop your pain. “For everything.” He can’t help but replay your previous conversation with Morgan. Tears are falling down his face, but he can’t bring himself to care.
 “Don’t blame Grant.” It takes him the entire ride to the hospital to understand why you mentioned Anderson. Even with your brain shutting down from a lack of blood flow, you were still trying to make sure nobody was blamed for your actions.
 He barely listens to the EMTs and the hospital staff as he watches them wheel you back through the all too familiar ‘Authorized Personnel Only” doors.
 Spencer doesn’t bother to hide his emotions when the rest of the team arrive. He doesn’t have the energy in him to muster enough energy to hide how he’s feeling from the group of profilers. They all come to the same realization simultaneously. Spencer is a wreck. There’s no other way to describe it. He spent hours in the waiting room before anyone could even convince him to wash your blood off his hands.
He just keeps thinking about how he didn’t get to say goodbye. Hell, he didn’t really say anything. You were bleeding out in front of him, having just jumped in front of a bullet to save him, and still you had more strength than he did in the moment.
 Another few hours later and he still hasn’t said a word. JJ’s tried. Derek’s tried. Hotch, Penelope, and Emily tried. Nobody can get through to him. He’s either pacing back and forth or staring at a wall. Of course, his mind is racing, the words just don’t come out of his mouth.
 He thinks about how much he hates hospitals. He goes over how germ-ridden every surface is, how much money is spent on healthcare in America, how many people are pronounced dead in hospitals- and then he cuts his own train of thought off.
 He thinks about the statistics of gunshot wounds next. He’s hyper focused on how clean shots with an exit wound are less lethal, but yours didn’t have and exit wound so that meant you were less likely to survive- and again he cuts himself off.
 He’s begging his brain for happier thoughts. Anything that won’t lead him down the rabbit hole of statistics and how likely you are to die. He clings to the first memory that pops into his head. The night he first saw you.
 Hotch, Emily, and Spencer arrived at the arena while the show was still going, if the fireworks were any clue. Normally, one flash of a badge would get the team through any checkpoint, but security at this place was no joke. They called to confirm the identities of the agents before escorting them to the head of security.
 That’s when Spencer saw you for the first time. Hotch was arguing with the head of security, a woman named Carrie. Emily was interjecting, trying to convey how important it was that the three agents speak to you immediately without giving away any details about the case. Spencer, if not for his eidetic memory, would have no idea what had been said. His attention was drawn elsewhere when you ran off the stage.
 He knew it was the last song of the night because of what Carrie was saying. It was clear to them she was stalling the team, so you could finish the show everyone was there to see.
 You had a bright smile on your face, but it seemed off to Spencer. There was a slight sadness in your eyes, and he wanted nothing more than to ask you why. The feeling perplexed him. He’s never been a social butterfly, but your presence was captivating.
 He watched your smile transform into genuine happiness when you slid your arms into a new jacket for the final performance, and he wanted to ask about that to. He wanted to learn everything he could about you.
 He would’ve thought his heart had skipped a beat when you made eye contact, but he knew logically he would’ve required medical attention had that actually happened. The moment was brief. Your expression, although still happy, transformed into slightly quizzical when you glanced at the three agents. He watched as you thought about who they could be before discarding all thoughts from your mind to focus on the grand finale. He kept watching as you ran back on stage, the smile only growing in size and authenticity when you looked out at the crowd.
 He replays that memory in his mind, all the while ignoring the concerned glances and attempts at conversation from his friends. He desperately clings to the way he felt during that 30 second interaction.
 He doesn’t understand the feelings that started in that moment. It’s like as soon as he saw you, something in him shifted. He can’t explain it. He’s not blind. He saw the smirks and subtle glances the other profilers were giving when they saw him interact with you. He was just as surprised by his willingness to comfort you, both emotionally and physically. He’s never been one for touching people he doesn’t know. There’s too many germs. But with you, everything is different... With you, he wants it all. Every little thing. 
 Spencer has never believed in love at first sight. He’s always been too practical, has always thought too logically. But, after the tenth time reliving that moment, he still has no other explanation for the desire he felt. The desire he still feels to learn everything there is to know about you.
 All week, he’s chalked it up to his inquisitive mind. He’s always loved learning, so that must have been what was happening here. He’s never spent any considerable amount of time with a musician before, so it’s only natural that he would want to learn from the experience.
 That’s a much easier explanation to accept than love. People can’t fall in love in a week. Even if it was a week spent nonstop with each other. But something in the back of his mind was screaming at Spencer to tell himself the truth.
 And so he did. And it only confused him more. He’s a man of science. Proving theories with facts, not emotion. Of course, he’s always wanted to be in love, but life has shown him again and again that it wasn’t probable for him. That’s why he nearly fell out of the chair he was in when the realization dawned on him.
 “I haven’t had enough time.” It’s barely a whisper, but all his friends are right there hanging on his every word. They wear cautious expressions, as if he could be easily spooked back into silence.
 “Enough time for what, kid?” Morgan’s voice is uncharacteristically soft. Even in his most calming moments, Derek always puts power behind his words. It’s why he’s so good at helping people, but this is different. He can tell Spencer is hurting, and he doesn’t want to spook him back into complete silence.
 “I’ve barely scratched the surface. I have so much left to learn.” Although he’s still whispering, Spencer’s voice is growing more frantic as he looks between the concerned and confused faces staring back at him. His brain is moving too fast to really explain the thought process going on inside. He can’t put into words how it wasn’t love at first sight, but rather the desire to love you. He saw you and just knew he could love you. That desire to learn everything about you somehow turned into love in the span of a week. Before he can fall even deeper into the rabbit hole he’s found himself in, Spencer is jolted out of his head by the feeling of Rossi’s hands gripping his shoulders.
 “I know, kid. You’ll have more time.” Rossi’s words are so confident, Spencer has no choice but to accept them as fact. His heart slows back down to a normal pace. His breathing becomes more regular. His legs stop bouncing. His hands stop fidgeting. And he accepts the comforting words from his family.
 --
 You’re running. You don’t know where you are. You don’t know how you got here. But you know you’re running.
You feel at ease. You don’t know why. You know it to be true though. You feel safe. Peaceful.
 You try to look around. Try to figure out why you’re running. Are you running toward something? Away from something? For fun? It feels fun.
 You hear voices. It sounds like laughter. Slowly, you put the pieces together.
 You’re in your backyard. Playing with your children. Yours and Spencer’s children. There’s three of them. All girls. The youngest is 4. The other two 6. Twins. You have twins with Spencer. You bask in the joy of it all.
 You’re running because you’re playing tag. With your daughters and Spencer. He’s got the all teamed up against you. It feels unfair, but you wouldn’t change it for the world.
 There’s a song playing in your head. One you’ve never heard before. It’s beautiful though. So happy. You’ll have to write it down. Find out if you’ve written it in the moment or if you are simply remembering it from long ago.
 You still can’t remember how you got here. All you remember is dark. And cold.
 Dark and cold. Dark. Cold. A gunshot.
 The memory is foggy, but it’s there. The scene in front of you changes. The song is still playing. Its positivity doesn’t match the scene.
 It’s like you’re watching a movie. Spencer is holding you. You squeeze your eyes shut. You want to go back.
 Back to your kids.
 Back to being happy with Spencer.
 Back to running. Playing. Being in love.
 Then you hear beeping. It’s quiet at first. Drowned out by the song in your head.
 Then the song is getting quieter. The beeping getting louder.
 Then the song is gone. You can only hear the beeping.
 You remember everything when you open your eyes. It comes back to you like a wave crashing over your head, dragging you back into the ocean.
 Instead of focusing on the trauma, you focus on the song.
 It only takes 30 seconds for you to find your phone on the table next to your bed, open it to the voice memos app, and start recording.
 You sing as much of the song as you can remember. It’s not hard since the feelings behind it are so strong. The first verse comes from the forth night you spent with Spencer. You couldn’t sleep so you convinced him to get coffee with you. It didn’t take much convincing for the coffee part since he’s pretty much addicted to the stuff. It took some convincing for him to agree to where you wanted to go though. You wanted to go back to his favorite coffee shop, but he said you could just get some in the hotel. You managed to convince him to go though. He insisted on driving since he now knew you didn’t like it much. The gesture did not go unnoticed. You knew he didn’t like driving either.
 The chorus, second verse, bridge, and breakdown are jumbled, but they’re all there. It’s harder to get it right because it’s not coming from memories of you time with Spencer. It’s coming from what you hope to do with him. After a few tries, you’ve got the whole thing in order.
 You lay back in your bed, the song replaying in your mind as you fall back asleep.
 --
5 hours and 42 minutes. It’s been 5 hours and 42 minutes since you were wheeled into surgery. Every member of the team has gone up to ask about your condition at least once.
 The nurse they’ve been bombarding with questions walks into the room and immediately all eyes are on her.
 She escorts the team out of the waiting area into a private room before she says anything. “Since Ms. L/N is a high profile patient, we have a certain protocol to follow. All I can tell you right now is that she’s out of surgery, and she’s stable. Her security team is on the way and will need to approve any and all visitors. Once approved, her doctor can give you more information.” And then she leaves before any questions can be thrown at her.
 Everyone breathes a collective sigh of relief when they hear that you’re stable. That relief is replaced by frustration when they realize they have to wait to see you. Especially for Spencer. If he could walk more than two steps in this tiny room, he’d be pacing it. Once he starts rambling, not a single team member dare to interrupt him.
 It must have been 25 minutes of fidgeting, mumbling, and checking their watches before Carrie walked into the room, interrupting Spencer’s rant.
 “I don’t see why our badges aren’t enough proof that we can- Carrie. Finally, can we go see her now?” Based on the look in Spencer’s eyes, anything other than an affirmative answer would not end well.
“Spencer, of course. I just had to confirm your identity in person. It’s standard procedure when she’s in the hospital. For safety reasons. The doctor should be coming in any minute and she can take us to her room.” As if on cue, the doctor walked in.
 “Hello everyone, sorry to keep you waiting. Ms. L/N’s surgery went very well. The bullet was removed and all the internal bleeding was stopped before it got too bad. As you know, we’ve got her in a private room. She can have visitors, but limit it to one or two people at a time. Do you have any questions?”
 Spencer knows somewhere in his mind that he should ask the doctor everything about your condition, but he can barely keep it together enough to shake his head no. He doesn’t trust himself with words right now.
 “Alright, follow me to her room.” A parade of agents, along with Carrie, follow the doctor down twisting hallways to the private wing. “Now, remember one or two at a time. Last I checked, she was still asleep.” Spencer’s gaze drifts from the doctor to look at you through the window. At first glance, he would’ve sworn your eyes were open, but when he looked back again they were closed.
 “Once I go in there, I’m not coming back out until she’s awake.” He turned to the rest of the group.
 “Spence, it’s okay. You go in. Let us know when she’s awake.” JJ gave him a reassuring hug before her and the rest of the team wandered back to the waiting room.
 Spencer and Carrie walked in slowly, as if any sudden movement could hurt you. For the first time in his life, Spencer’s mind was completely empty.
 There were no statistics. No miscellaneous facts. Nothing.
 He looked at you, asleep in a hospital bed after you saved his life, and he allowed himself to just feel.
 It took a strange amount of concentration for him to only feel. His brain wants to butt in with statistics about the surgery or to count your breathing so he will notice any change in the pattern. But, he blocks it out. For you.
 He sits down in the chair beside your bed, grabs your hand in his, lays his head on the side of your bed, and feels everything.
 He feels all the love he’s been denying for the past week. He feels all the relief of knowing you are okay. He feels all the pain of watching you slip away from him. He feels everything he’s ever blocked out with numbers and statistics. And it’s exhausting. To feel so much at once.
 Without thinking about it, he feels his eyes grow heavier with each added emotion.
 Love.
Relief.
Pain.
Sadness.
Greif.
Anger.
Fear.
Gratitude.
Happiness.
 Just the prospect of being happy is heavy enough that Spencer falls asleep.
 The first thing he notices is that he’s running. He’s chasing someone. But not like he normally has to. No. There’s no unsub. Nobody is in danger. He’s playing a game. With children. His children. His and Y/N’s children. He has three daughters. The twins are older, around 6. The youngest is 4. They are helping him chase their mom. His wife. He’s built quite a future for himself in his head. He listens to the sounds of laughter, memorizing each individual’s laugh.
 He feels something squeeze his hand and he’s awake. Groggy, but awake. He wants to go back to the dream. To remember what pure happiness feels like.
 Then he remembers where he is. And why he’s there. The grogginess is gone. He’s alert in an instant. He’s looking at you, but you aren’t focused. You’re mumbling under your breath, looking for something in the sheets with your one free hand.
 “My phone. Where’s my phone? Was it real? Did I dream it?” You seem so flustered, and he can’t fathom why your phone could be so important, but he finds it for you nonetheless.
 “Thank you!” He watches as you rapidly open your phone, intently staring at the screen as if it might disappear.
 “What are you-” Before he can finish the thought, a voice- no, your voice is playing from your phone.
 “It was real…” You are clearly in a daze, but the happiness in your voice is contagious. Suddenly Spencer is smiling, pulling you closer to him as the lyrics to your song play in the background. He peppers soft kisses over any piece of skin he can reach. Your giggles fill him with even more love. Even more happiness.
 When the two of you finally separate, he asks the first question he can think of. “When did you write this?”
 You think back to your dream. The love. The joy. The pure happiness. You feel Spencer brushing the tears off your cheeks before you even realized you were crying. “It came to me in a dream. I… I guess I woke up earlier and I wanted to remember it. The dream. The song. It was all so beautiful. So happy. You were there. And then when I woke up I just recorded everything I could remember.”
 Spencer is looking at you with such adoration that you almost feel shy. You want more than anything for that dream to be a reality. Not right away obviously, but in the future for sure.
 “It’s beautiful.” His words are soft and low.
 “It’s about you.” If you weren’t in a hospital bed, you might be inclined to think you were still in a dream. “About us.”
“I love it. I love you.” Spencer whispers the words into your skin. Almost like it was involuntary, it slipped out like a breath.
 “I love you too.” He kisses you again, before the sound of the door opening breaks you two apart.
Carrie rushes in when she sees you’re awake, not realizing the moment that had just occurred.
 “Oh, Y/N. I’m so glad you’re okay!” She squeezes you lightly in a one armed hug, the other hand carrying a tray of coffees and a paper bag. “I brought coffee for Spencer and a scone for you!”
 “Well, I hope you poured a mountain of sugar into it. He likes it sweet.” You turn to smile at the man only to find him already looking at you.
 “Only as sweet as you.” You laugh at the cheesiness of the moment, but you blush anyway, squeezing his hand. “Thank you, Carrie, for the coffee. I should go let the team know you’re awake.” He kisses your forehead before he walks out of the room.
 “Oh honey, you have a lot to fill me in on.” Carrie is looking at you with the biggest smirk you’ve ever seen. She has been your head of security for 4 years, and the two of you have become close friends through all the crazy experiences. Although, nothing as crazy as this.
 “What do you mean? I told you I thought he was cute…” You really have no hope of hiding this from her, but you can mess with her a little bit.
 “Yeah, but kissing you on the forehead? Calling you sweet in the corniest of ways? What’s going on? Tell me!!” You could leave her hanging, but you are really feeling the need to gush.
 “I wrote him a song. In my dream. I think it conveys everything pretty clearly.” You play the song for her, again remembering how you felt in the dream. When it’s over you’re nearly in tears again.
 “It’s stunning. Just so beautiful. I’m glad you’ve found someone who makes you so happy.” You can tell she’s nervous about something, and you’ve got a pretty good idea of what.
 “Carrie, don’t worry about me. I really think he’s the one. I’ve never felt this strongly, especially so fast. And I know what you’re thinking, fast might not be good, but we’ve spent so much time together. I mean, think about it. How long does the average date last? 2, 3 hours? At that rate, we’ve already been on roughly 37 dates! And that’s if you don’t count the hours we spent sleeping, which we also did together!”
 Carrie snorts at that. “Yeah, sleeping.”
 “No, I mean actually sleeping.” You try to stress the point. “He kissed me once, but the rest of the time was spent getting to know each other, writing songs, him working on the case, and sleeping. Eyes closed, pajamas on, sleeping.”
 Her eyes soften, the smile on her face widening before she responds. “Okay. I won’t worry… too much.” You’re just about to tell her about the dream when the door opens again.
Penelope comes storming into the room with flowers and a teddy bear, whisper shouting about how happy she is that you’re okay. Just before you turn to give her your full attention, you can see Derek and Spencer talking in the hall.
 --
 “Come on Pretty Boy, what’s going on there?” Derek’s wearing his usual smirk for whenever Spencer’s love life is concerned.
 “What do you mean?” Try as he might, Hell would have to freeze over for Derek to stop this line of questioning.
 “I mean, I see how you look at her. Hell, we all watched you fall apart in the waiting room. What’s the deal? C’mon man, fill me in!” Spencer doesn’t know how to describe it. He doesn’t know how to convert the emotions he’s recently accepted into words, so he tries something else.
 “She wrote me a song.” Spencer’s words are wistful. He’s transported himself back into dreamland. Back to the kids and the games. Back to happiness.
 “Kid, it’s more than that. She wrote all of us songs.” Derek’s words cause the dream to sleep away yet again. .
 “No, well yes. Although technically we wrote that song about me together. I mean, she wrote me an entire song. In a dream.” This time, Derek replies too quickly for him to slip back into the dream.
 “Reid. You’re not making sense. You dreamt that she wrote you a song?” Derek’s words are comforting, like he’s trying to figure out the best way to help Spencer convey his emotions without pushing him too far.
 “No. She said after her surgery, she had a dream. About me. About… us. The song was playing in the background.” Derek nods, finally understanding his friend.
 “Okay, so what was the song about?” Again, his words are soft.
 “Us. The time we’ve spent together and the time she wants us to spend together in the future.” It’s taken Derek this long into the conversation to realize why Spencer seems so out of it. He’s happy. He’s not faking it. He’s not hiding behind statistics. He’s just happy. Plain and simple.
 “And that’s what you want to?” He can’t help but smile, really truly smile, at the pure look of adoration that Spencer wears when he looks through the window at you.
 “More than anything.” Derek pulls him into a hug. Normally, hugs like this are typically reserved for when they just saved each other or after a particularly bad case. This case, although involving Spencer’s kidnapping and a trip to the hospital, had a rather positive outcome.
 “Good. You deserve it man.”
 --
  A few days later and you are itching to leave the hospital. You’ve been working to reschedule your tour dates so you can fully recover before performing again, but even with that it’s incredibly boring to be stuck in the hospital for so long.
 “Good news. You can leave the hospital tomorrow!” Spencer walks in, followed by the rest of the BAU team. They’ve been taking turns visiting you, something you suspect Spencer asked them to do, but you don’t really mind. You’ve actually become good friends with most of them.
 “Yay!” Before too much celebration can occur, you’re passing out USBs to each team member. “I’m glad you’re all hear. I managed to record some preliminary versions of your songs! Listen to them whenever you’d like, or don’t that’s cool too. Either way, I’ll make sure to get you the properly recorded versions when I get a chance to go into the studio. I included some thoughts about other inspirationsas well, so don’t feel bad if there is a lyric that doesn’t really match you.” The majority of the team give you thanks and endless praise before Hotch clears his throat.
 “Our songs? Did I miss something?” You chuckle at that. The man clearly doesn’t miss anything ever.
 “Nobody told you? The first day I met you all, Pen asked me to write a song inspired by her. Trust me, it wasn’t hard. She’s a fountain of inspiration. Then when I was waiting for Spence to get back so we could go to the hotel, I came up with one or two for everyone!” You can’t tell if Hotch is more or less concerned now than when he was out of the loop.
 “So I have a song? What is it?” The rest of the team can’t hide their smirks. It’s clear they never get to see their boss act this nervous.
 “Well, it’s on the CD!” He groans at the idea of waiting when everyone else already knows. “But, since everyone else got a sneak peak, I’ll give you one too. Wasn’t it beautiful running wild till you fell asleep? Before the monster’s caught up to you… It’s okay, just wait and see. Your string of lights is still bright to me. Oh, who you are is not where you’ve been. You’re still an innocent.” You give everyone a minute to think about the lyrics before the silence is too much for you to take.
 “I’m sorry if that’s weird! It’s just, the first time I saw you, and there was this look in your eyes. In all of your eyes, but yours the most.” You are looking straight at Hotch. “Like you’ve been through some really terrible things, and maybe you had to do some things that can be hard to deal with. But, that doesn’t make you a bad person or anything, ya know? That’s where the inspiration came from…” You can’t tell if your rambling helped or not. The profilers are so hard to read. Pen is subtly crying near the side of your bed, so you pull her in for a hug. Before you know it, the rest of the team is joining in.
 “It’s not weird at all. You are pretty good at reading people, ever consider becoming a profiler?” Hotch is clearly trying to lighten the mood, but his expression conveys how much he appreciates the song.
 “I think this will be my first and last case. Clearly I’m not that great at talking down the bad guy.” You shudder to think of putting yourself in that position again.
 “From what I heard, you did a pretty decent job. The ending was exactly what we expected unfortunately. Plus, you can definitely hold your own. I heard you flipped Morgan over your shoulder like a ragdoll.” Rossi’s comment earns laughs from the entire group.
 “Please, I just caught him off guard. Although, I don’t think I’ll ever forget the look on his face afterwards.” Again, the groups laughs. “I just wanted to thank you all. For protecting me, but also for visiting me so much. You really know how to see the positive side of things.”
 “Anyone willing to jump in front of a bullet for Spencer is definitely a friend of ours.” JJ chimes in.
You can’t help but truly smile at the team. It seems you’ve found yourself another family, and you couldn’t be more grateful.
tag list:
@mac99martin , @wecouldbreakthedistance , @spencerhotchner , @girloncorneliastreet , @itsametaphorbriansblog , @moonshinerbynight , @meowiemari , @justanotherfangirl  , @im-so-wonderstruck , @eevee0722 , @raining13lemonade​ @dilaudidwinchester​ , @silverdagger69 , @thatsonezesty13 , @ladyravenclaw , @uwucorpse , @dark-night-sky-99 , @thechloethings , @http-cherries , @emilouu
239 notes · View notes
queenk00k · 4 years ago
Text
red wine lips part 4 // rafe cameron
warnings: you know the drill, it’s smut baby.
word count: 1.6k
READ PART 1 HERE
READ PART 2 HERE
READ PART 3 HERE
author’s note: this is the final part of the red wine lips series! thank you so much to everyone who has read, supported and loved this series with me. look out for plenty more rafe content to come.
Tumblr media
For two months now, you and Rafe have been enjoying each other’s company in more ways than one. Never one to waste any time, but certainly one to avoid discussing anything remotely serious, you were quick to fall into a rhythm with your best friend/fuck buddy/whatever else he may be. After the incidents at the winery and the tennis club, there was an unspoken agreement between you and the self-professed Kook King that you’ll continue to hang out as friends and sneak off whenever possible to let out that pent up sexual frustration you knew too well.
And, since Rafe seemed to constantly want to get his dick wet, there was rarely an outing or event that went without a sneaky quickie in a hidden corner or locked bathroom.
You recall sneaking up to Topper’s roof during one of his parties, Rafe bending you over the railing that looked over the backyard, answering Rafe’s “wanna fuck u now” texts with a coy smile and raised eyebrow and, more recently, the memory of Rafe pressing you up against the wall in a changing room as you decided on your dress for Midsummers.
What you can’t seem to remember, however, is when your feelings for Rafe extended beyond how much you liked the feeling of his body flush against yours, lips attached to your neck.
Maybe it was when you started talking with one another for longer after having sex instead of just leaving, or maybe that one time when he lifted up your chin with his index finger to kiss you (the cool metal of his ring a stark contrast against your flushed skin), or when seeing him flirting with a Touron made your blood boil.
You’ve found yourself completely and hopelessly falling for Rafe Cameron.
It’s a few hours before the start of Midsummers, a night you’ve been looking forward to for the last few weeks, and yet you can’t seem to get yourself out of bed. You’ve mostly got a handle on your anxiety but on days like this you’re brought right back to square one. It’s a tough job to keep up with Rafe and your extended group of friends and show your face at every event on the Figure 8 social calendar, and right now you can’t think of anything worse than spending hours around other people.
Your stomach twisting in knots, you look at your pale pink tulle gown hanging on your bedroom door (something different, at Rafe’s request) and sigh. Rafe was going to disappointed but there was no way you were going to force yourself to do something you’re completely uncomfortable with.
You roll onto your side and pick up your phone, choosing to ignore the dozen or so text messages from Claire (“where are you? I thought we were pre-gaming? This champagne won’t drink itself!”) and scroll until you find Rafe’s number.
He answers on the second ring. “Y/N, hey! Are you on your way to Topper’s? I don’t want to start without you,” he says.
You gulp before answering him. “Hey Rafe, look, I’m really sorry but I’m not coming to Midsummers-”
“Why not? What’s wrong?”
“I just feel like garbage, I really don’t feel up to partying tonight,” you say.
“Do you need me to come over?” Rafe asks, sounding concerned.
You brush him off. “No, no, it’s okay. You guys go and have fun, I’ll see you later.”
There’s a long pause before Rafe replies. “Okay, if you’re sure.”
“Yeah Rafe, it’s fine. Bye!”
“Bye. Feel better.”
He hangs up and you’re left to stare at your ceiling, feeling deflated, before closing your eyes and falling back asleep.
--
Not long after, a soft knock on your bedroom door wakes you up. Assuming it’s your mum coming to convince you to come, you don’t bother to raise your head off your plush pillow as you begrudgingly say “come in.”
Rafe Cameron was the last person you expected to walk through your door, much less dressed in grey sweatpants and a black t-shirt instead of his baby blue suit and bowtie.
“Hey, Sleeping Beauty,” he says, smiling fondly. “Feeling a bit better?”
“What are you doing here Rafe?”
He walks across your room and takes a seat gingerly on the edge of your bed, placing his hand on your leg.
“You felt like shit and I wanted to make you feel better. Here I am.”
You’re touched by his sweetness and find yourself at a loss for words.
“Can I get in?”
You nod and Rafe pulls off his t-shirt, before getting into your bed and wrapping his muscled arm around you, pulling you into his chest.
“C’mere,” he says and you snuggle into him, feeling both content and confused.
“I’m sorry,” you mumble against Rafe’s chest.
“For what?”
“I know you wanted to show me off tonight, and we had that plan to sneak off to the locker room-”
Rafe chuckles. “I don’t care about that. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. You’re my best friend first and foremost, Y/N. I gotta look out for you.”
You breathe in shakily. “I know but….you’re not my boyfriend, Rafe. I would have understood if you went to Midsummers and got with Olivia or whoever.”
There’s a painfully long silence and you’re terrified of Rafe’s response.
“I’d like to be,” he finally says quietly.
You lift your head up, heart racing, not entirely sure what you just heard.
“What?”
Rafe looks down at you. “I’d like to be your boyfriend, if you’d let me.”
You grin.
“Of course, Rafe. Of course I’ll ‘let you be my boyfriend.’”
Rafe smiles sweetly and kisses you on the forehead, then the tip of your nose, before finally brushing his lips against yours.
You hum with contentment and shift your position so you’re facing him, your elbows braced on either side of his head as you continue to kiss, his tongue slipping in your mouth as you move together.
Rafe’s hand rests on your waist as the other sneaks up your t-shirt, cupping your right breast and running his thumb over your quickly hardened nipple.
The pace is slow and languid, syrupy sweet and completely different to what you’re used to. There’s no hasty pushing clothes aside or feverish kisses, the two of you are almost lazy, taking your time and taking it all in.
Soon enough, you’re lifting your arms above your head as Rafe slowly pulls your t-shirt over your head and he’s blinking up at you like you’re the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen, his eyes glazed over with complete adoration.
You’re suddenly acutely aware of the fact that this is the first time Rafe has actually seen you naked like this, and you cross your arms over your stomach instinctively. Rafe shakes his head and pulls your arms down, kissing you passionately.
“You’re beautiful,” he says and you smile into the kiss.
Rafe plays with your nipple with one hand as he finds your clit with the other, pressing gently into your heat as you whimper, the rolling pleasure almost becoming too much as he slips his finger inside.
You whimper, rocking against him, asking him for more and moaning louder as he adds another finger, and then another, before he’s slowly pumping three fingers inside your hot centre and you’re cumming around his fingers with a shudder.
There’s a pause as you catch your breath, and you smirk as you feel how hard he is beneath you.  
“Feel good babe?” Rafe asks you.
You nod.
“You’re severely overdressed,” you say, rolling off Rafe to give him the space to pull off his sweatpants, his underwear coming with it and his hard cock springing out, a bead of pre-cum glimmering at the tip.
You move to get into position on the bed, lifting your ass up, before Rafe tuts and moves you onto your back.
“I want to look at your pretty face,” he says, pumping his cock with some lube he found in your bedside table.
You nod, almost nervous, as Rafe lines up the head of his cock with your entrance. He pushes into you slowly and you feel your walls tighten around his length.
As if he feels your slight nervousness, Rafe kisses you on the forehead once more and asks “are you okay? We can stop.”
“I’m more than okay,” you reply and you grab his ass with both of your hands, pulling him deeper inside you.
Rafe groans and rocks into you, picking up his pace as you both move together, enjoying this new closeness you’d not experienced with one another before. You make sure to pull your new boyfriend in for a deep kiss intermittently, and he makes a point of staring deeply into your eyes as he whimpers.
After some minutes of him pumping his cock inside you, Rafe’s movements start to sputter and become irregular and you can tell he’s close to finishing.
“Baby, I’m going to cum,” he says and you simply wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck, pulling him into a tight embrace as he moans one final time, pushing his cock into you and spilling his cum inside you.
You can’t quite put your finger on why but this time feels so unbelievably different, and better, than all of the other times.
Rafe stays inside you for a few moments, and then presses his slightly sweaty forehead to yours, his eyes fluttering closed.
“You’re incredible,” he says, and you feel happier in that moment than any other time in your life.
taglist: 
@letsgofullkook​ @stargazingstarkey​ @harrysbbby​ @socialwriter​ @thatjohnd​ @ssjiara​ @jjsmentalpolaroids​ @bailspogue​ @jjtheangel​ @rafecameron​​ @obx-direction-sos​​ @pixelated-pogues​​ @jjmbanks​​ @ims0golden​​  @drewstarkey​​ @teenwaywardasgardian​​ @tembo-ndoto​​ @prejudic3​​ @starkeymarkey​​ @snkkat​​ @drewxxrudy​​ @pogue-writings​​ @pookie-cleary​​ @jjmaybcnks​​ @shawnssongs​​ @obxjj​​ @drewswannabegirl​​ @curlybrownhairedboys​​ @the-moon-looks-old-and-gray​​ @peach97​​ @k-k0129​​ @broken-jj​​ @annedub​​ @starlightstarkey​​ @starrystarkey93​​ @jiaraendgame​​ @sarahcxmeron​​ @overly-b​​ @erraaxh​​ @pink-meringues​​ @rollinsstuff​​ @microwaved-timmies​​ @iamaunicorn4704​​ @a-golden-sunflower-vol-6​​ @ptersparkers​ @jjmaybankx​ @sortagaysortahigh​​ @honeyycheek​​ @downbytheouterbanks​​ @milamaybank​​ @dpaccione​​ @hbooth0411​ @girlsru1eboysdroo1​​  @moldisgoodforyou​​ @surfalldaybaby​​ @outrbanks​ @outerbongs​ @famousstarsandkelly​ @yuxsh06​ @outerbanksbro @httpstarkey​ @sunnypogue​ @sweetlysilent​ @outerbanksbro​
466 notes · View notes
hatterstan-shameblog · 4 years ago
Text
The Best Quiche in Tokyo
Rating: ‼️18+ Minors Do Not Interact ‼️
Warnings: explicit sexuality (it literally takes place at an orgy so like.......Y’know)
Characters: Hatter (Takeru), Aguni, and Female Reader (You)
Summary: When one of your customers invites you to a potluck-slash-orgy, you assume the “orgy” part is a joke—because nobody really hosts a potluck and an orgy at the same time, right?
Notes: One time, @nessinborderland (happy belated birthday btw) gave me the brilliant idea of Hatter hosting an orgy and serving really good food and I just......ran with it. This ended up being part comedy, part character study—and mostly features Aguni, if you can believe it! I don’t know, I just let the story take me where it wanted to go! (Also, this is definitely the longest thing I’ve written on here, so get ready to dig in!)
It’s a beautiful Sunday afternoon in March, and you’re standing in front of a hat shop. Well, technically, you’re slightly to the left of a hat shop, peering down a skinny alleyway in search of a door or a set of stairs—something to indicate that there is, in fact, an apartment up there and this is not just an elaborate prank.
There is a very good chance this is a prank—after all, the eccentric man who walked into your stationary store two weeks ago seemed...off. Not in a bad way, just. One-of-a-kind. Unique. Entirely himself, in a way that people usually aren’t.
Was he flirting or was he just overly friendly when he leaned in just a bit too close to see the various fonts available for his choosing? It’s difficult to say. He did seem genuinely interested to know the difference between serif and sans serif, which doesn’t much thrill your customers on the regular. Does asking for an extra business card ‘for his personal records’ count as a pick-up line? It’s hard to say. Not that it matters much, of course—you are a professional, he is a customer, and there’s nothing more to it.
And you really are a professional, because when he told you that he wanted—in metallic gold, 30-point, center aligned—to say, quote, “The Third Annual Springtime Potluck and Orgy: Presented by Danma Takeru,” you didn’t so much as bat an eye. Partially because he was very insistent that you spell his name correctly, and partially because. Well. How does a person respond to that?
In truth, he ended up being one of your better customers—he showed a genuine interest in the process while still deferring to your expertise—and when one of the printed invitations arrived in your mailbox, you figured you might as well go see what the fuss is about. It could be an opportunity to meet some new friends, maybe drum up a little business if you’re lucky.
And besides—a potluck-slash-orgy? Who would even do that?
The merry little jingle of bell catches your attention, and you turn your head to see a solemn-looking man peeking his head around the hat shop’s glass door. He looks at you. He looks at the plastic-wrapped pie in your hands. He looks back at you.
He frowns.
“Hi,” you say, putting on your most charming smile in the hopes that he’ll stop looking at you like you just slapped him across the face, “I’m, uh, I’m here for the party!”
You shuffle over to him, careful not to scuff the white of your sensible-yet-pretty patent leather heels on the sidewalk. Maybe you’re dressed too formally—he’s wearing a plain white t-shirt and a pair of jeans while you’re sporting a calf-length chiffon dress dyed in a lovely array of watercolor blues and violets.
Oh dear, what a faux-pas! There was no dress code listed on the invite, but maybe you should’ve dressed in a more casual fashion. You don’t live far, you could probably run home quickly and change...
“Do you...have an invitation,” the man asks, crossing his arms across his chest and furrowing his brow. Is he annoyed? No, no. He seems. Confused? Wary? How very strange.
“Oh, of course,” you answer, reaching a fumbling hand into your purse to search for the little pink envelope, “I almost forgot it walking out the door, but I remembered at the last second! I can be a bit scatterbrained sometimes!”
The man doesn’t say anything, but leans forward to inspect the invitation once you manage to produce it from the cluttered mess that is your handbag.
“I know the time said it started at three, but the pie took a little longer than expected. It takes time for the chocolate to set, and—“ you gasp, covering your mouth with your invite-laden hand, “I haven’t kept you waiting, have I? I’m so sorry, Mister...?”
“Call me Aguni,” he says, and his eyes narrow slightly when you give him your most chipper ‘thank you’ and apologize for not being able to shake his hand at the moment. What a strange man.
“You,” he asks slowly, “you read the invitation, right?”
“Of course I did! I’m the one who made them,” you explain, puffing your chest up with pride, “and our host was kind enough to send one to me! He must have really liked my work!”
“...Yeah,” the man called Aguni says, “I’m sure that’s it.”
But, to your pleasure, he steps aside and holds the door open for you to enter. Such a strange man, but at least he’s gentlemanly enough to hold the door for you as you step inside.
“Oh, wow,” you say, “this place is amazing!”
And maybe it sounds silly, but you’re being entirely honest. There are hats in shelves, hats hanging on the wall, hats on faceless plastic heads on the counter and placed atop a long wooden table to the left—all of them in different shapes and colors, embellished and feathered and ribboned to the nines. There’s a certain magic to a little place like this, a kind of whimsical charm you want to bottle and keep on the kitchen windowsill.
“Walls could use some paint. Floor needs polished, too,” Aguni says, “but...yeah, I guess it’s nice enough.”
You follow him as he leads you towards the back, your eyes drinking in all the details of this fascinating little shop.
“No, no, the walls and the floor are perfect,” you assert with a wide-mouthed smile, “it gives it character. Makes it feel...like home, I think.”
“Takeru says the same thing,” Aguni answers with a chuckle, “although I also think he just doesn’t want to put in the work. He’s...not very handy.”
There is a second door at the very back of the shop, and once again, Aguni holds it open for you. Perhaps his original air of discontent was a simple case of shyness—maybe he just takes a bit to warm up to people. Well, just wait until he tries your homemade triple-chocolate silk pie; you’ll be best friends in no time!
He leads you into a tiny courtyard, which is just barely big enough to hold a steep set of metal stairs and a handful of plant pots, which remain empty due to the early spring cold. But, oh, it must be so lovely back here when the plants are in full bloom! You say as much to your companion, who actually manages to smile a bit in your direction as he leads you up the stairs.
“Those are mine, actually,” he tells you, his boot-covered feet thunking up the stairs at a leisurely pace, “He lets me garden back here.”
You picture it—this tall, stoic man, kneeling on the ground, his gloved hands tending little green sprouts as the morning sun shines gold and warm on the cold stone ground. The thought of it warms you. Does he know anything about succulents? You’ve always thought they would look so cute in the shop...
“Look,” Aguni says when the two of you reach a very drab-looking door, “I’m not trying to be a jerk, but...you sure you’re ready for this?”
What an odd thing to say! Maybe you’re acting more nervous than you originally thought? It is rather daunting, walking into a party of strangers; but, nothing ventured, nothing gained, right?
“You’re sweet for worrying about me,” you respond, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder, “but if everyone is half as lovely as you, I’m sure I’ll do just fine. I will probably stick with you for a while—if that’s okay, of course!”
“Alright, then.” Aguni says—and is that a hint of a blush you see creeping up his neck? All this time, you thought he was just being strange, but he’s just a little shy! You give his arm a knowing pat before withdrawing your touch, and he quickly turns around to unlock the door.
Are all of Takeru’s friends this adorable? You hope so. You follow your bashful escort inside—the genkan is already full of shoes, but you manage to squeeze yours in between a pair of snakeskin wedge heels and the wall. Aguni also removes his boots, and you’re happy he isn’t going to stay down in the hat shop the whole time. He can introduce you to everyone, and maybe—
You hear something. Was that...? No, no, you must be imagining things. You definitely did not just hear a woman moan on the other side of the wall. You stop and angle your head towards the door slightly to get a better listen. It’s all rather muffled (it must be well-insulated!) but there’s definitely some kind of music playing. Maybe it’s part of a song?
It happens again. This time, it’s deeper, and more of a prolonged “ah” sound. And then laughter. Aguni is looking at you in that concerned way of his again.
Instead of waiting for him to open the door for you a third time, you decide to take initiative and open it yourself—a show of confidence, to put his mind at ease. For a moment, it looks like he’s going to try and stop you, but he instead just crosses his arms and watches as you open the door to the rest of the house.
The first thing you see is candles. Little flickering spots of yellow-orange flame, winking inside clear glass votives. A trio of them on the kitchen table to the left, surrounded by a mismatched variety of trays and plates and bowls, each holding a different delicacy.
There’s a candle on the kitchen counter, next to the refrigerator. One on a bookshelf, which is filled to bowing with vinyl LP’s. Two on either side of the television, and a cluster of them on a coffee table next to a fishbowl of shiny gold squares and—
Oh.
Oh, dear.
There are limbs. Moving, writing, reaching. Hands grabbing. Mouths kissing. Mouths...doing things other than kissing. Oh, God, there’s boobs. And somebody’s butt. Aw, geez, there goes another one. How many naked people are there in here, anyways?
“Oh, hey!”
A familiar voice calls out from the fleshy throng, and your stomach drops. Like Venus emerging from the surf, you see Danma Takeru rise up from the crowd, hair mussed and smiling mouth smudged with at least two different colors of lipstick. While he does appear to be wearing some kind of brightly-patterned robe, the more he stands, the less confident you are that it’s actually covering anything.
You spin on your heel, unwilling as of the moment to become visually acquainted with your host’s penis, and you’re met once more with Aguni’s concerned stare. This time, though, you understand why he’s looking at you like that, and it makes the burn of embarrassment creeping up your neck that much hotter.
“Do you want to leave?”
This is. Oh, boy. This is a lot. Aguni must be able to sense your discomfort, although you imagine it’s rather palpable at the moment.
“I,” you say, “I don’t...know.”
And you say you don’t know because you truly don’t know what to do. Was it really so naïve of you to think that the ‘orgy’ part of the invitation was some kind of weird inside joke? Is there some kind of social protocol for these things?
You feel two hands descend upon each of your shoulders, and you try to convince yourself that they are slightly damp with sweat as opposed to any other kind of aqueous material.
“You made it,” Takeru exclaims with genuine excitement as he gives your person a gentle shake, “I’m so glad you decided to come!”
“He’s covered, don’t worry,” Aguni says to you before directing his attention over your shoulder, “I take it you didn’t tell her.”
“Tell her what?”
The hand on your right shoulder stays while the left slips away, leaving room for Takeru to stand at your side and squeeze you against him in a weird little half-hug. In another situation, you might enjoy the way the silk of his robe whispers against the skin of your arms, perhaps smile at the warm comfort of a lazy arm thrown about your shoulders like a heavy scarf, but. Well. Right now, it’s just a little...awkward.
Aguni rolls his eyes.
“About that,” he says, gesturing impatiently at the debauchery behind your back, “I mean, just look at her face.”
“Mori-chan, how could you be so rude to our lovely guest? Darling,” Takeru says, turning your face towards him with two fingers under your chin, “don’t listen to him, you’re...ah, I see what you mean.”
Is your expression really that bad? It must be, because Takeru very slowly and very carefully withdrawing his arm from around your shoulder and taking a generous step to the side. His mouth is twisted into a rather comical gaping frown, his eyes nervously darting side-to-side.
“In my defense,” he says, putting his hands up like some kind of fucked-out traffic cop at a four-way intersection, “the, uh, the orgy part was very prominent. Big letters, right at the top.”
“I,” you reply, “I thought it was...a joke?”
“This is why we don’t just hand out invitations,” Aguni grits through his teeth, “for fuck’s sake, Takeru, we’ve talked about this!”
“I know, I know. I am humble enough to admit when I’ve fucked up, and this time, I have fucked up in a truly spectacular fashion,” Takeru’s gaze shifts from horrified to quizzical as he scrutinized you for a moment, “Unless...you’d like to stay?”
You look at the pie. The slowly-warming chocolate is beginning to sweat beneath the thin film of plastic wrap you so lovingly secured with lilac ribbon.
“Or you could slap him on the way out,” Aguni offers, “he’s very slap-able.”
“It’s true! And when you slap me,” he whips his head to the side suddenly, “my hair does that and it looks really cool!”
Yeah, okay—it did look pretty cool. But, does he deserve to be slapped? Probably for something else, but not for this. It’s a simple misunderstanding, and honest mistake on both your parts.
“I want...” you start, and the way they’re looking at you, wide-eyed and breath-bated, reminds you of the final rose ceremony on The Bachelorette.
It’s kind of hilarious, actually.
“I, uh,” you continue, “I want to...to put this in the refrigerator, if that’s okay? It’s, uh, starting to melt...”
To say that Takeru’s face lights up is an understatement. With a mega-watt smile and a sparkle in his eye, he swoops his arm back around your shoulder and begins leading you towards the kitchen.
Although you have (almost) gotten used to the sea of strangers fucking and moaning in the background, you still choose to politely avert your gaze as you pass them by. You instead focus on Takeru, who has taken this opportunity to explain the inner-workings of...whatever this is.
“...And I personally see to it that these events remain exclusive,” he says, “Although I do occasionally invite outsiders, such as yourself. You were just so sweet and helpful, I couldn’t resist trying my luck and sending you an invite.”
“Thank you,” you say, “although, I, uh...”
He opens the refrigerator door and motions for you to place the pie inside. Luckily, it’s mostly empty, save for a collection of bottled water and a tin of what looks to be cat food. You’re grateful to not have to carry it around anymore, and thank him for his assistance.
It’s finally time for you to acknowledge the proverbial ‘elephant in the room’—except, you’re not exactly sure how to begin.
“I,” you start, stopping to bite your lip, “I, uh. Is it okay if I...don’t, y’know, do the whole...uh...sex thing?”
“Oh, do you prefer to watch?”
“No! I mean, no, uh,” you laugh nervously, “I’m just...”
Takeru chuckles.
“I’m only teasing. You’re more than welcome to skip the sex and go straight to the food. As long as you’re on the kitchen side, nobody will touch you. It’s one of our rules.”
He motions for Aguni to come over with a wave of his arm, smiling when the tall man comes to lean against the kitchen counter.
“Mori-chan also prefers to abstain from the more salacious aspects of our little gathering, so the two of you can keep each other company.”
“I’m usually in charge of the food,” Aguni adds, “and I try to make sure the candles stay lit.”
“I, uh, I noticed those on the way in. They’re nice.”
Takeru leans towards you as if he’s about to share a secret.
“I don’t mean to be indelicate,” he says in a low tone, “but there is a certain stench that comes with these events. Sweat, musk, various secretions...it all really adds up in the end.”
“It’s awful,” Aguni concludes, “but candles help dissipate the worst of it.”
“Oh, and the ambiance,” Takeru exclaims, “there’s just nothing like candlelight to really get people in the mood for—“
A sharp ding! makes you jump. From what you can gather, it came from the small oven to Aguni’s left.
“Hold it right there,” Takeru growls towards Aguni, who had been in the middle of donning a pair of floral-printed oven mitts, “she needs thirty more seconds.”
Aguni looks at you and rolls his eyes. You stifle a giggle behind your hand, hoping your host doesn’t notice.
“I saw that,” Takeru snips towards Aguni, “honestly, Mori-chan, you get one new friend...”
And even though he’s mid-scold, there remains a joviality to Takeru’s tone—a testament, you believe, to what can only be a long-standing friendship between him and Aguni. It’s hard not to feel jealous of their easy back-and-forth, their banter like a well-matched game of tennis.
“Now you can take her out,” Takeru says, “but, so help me God, if you don’t let her rest for seven minutes–“
“–They’ll never find my body, I know, I know,” Aguni finishes, gingerly placing a metal pan on the stove, “Look, we’ve got it handled. You can go back to your side of the party and I’ll call you when it’s plated.”
“Fine,” Takeru answers with a false pout, “but only because I know she’ll keep you honest.”
And just like that, it’s just you and Aguni once more—but, this time, he seems much more at ease to have you around. Happy, almost. It must be kind of boring, sitting alone in a kitchen while everyone else is...well, busy.
“So,” you say, moving to Aguni’s side to peer into the baking pan, “looks kind of like...a quiche?”
“Not just any quiche,” Aguni answers, opening the drawer to his right and digging a hand inside, “the best quiche in Tokyo.”
He pulls out a shiny silver chef’s knife and places it on the counter. Next comes a pair of dainty forks, delicate little things one might use for tea cakes at a French-inspired bistro. Knowing what you know about Takeru—which, granted, isn’t very much at all—it doesn’t surprise you in the least.
“You’re in front of the plates,” he says, tapping the cabinet directly in front of your face, “grab us some?”
“But we’re supposed to wait seven minutes,” you protest, all while following his instructions, “it’s only been...like, three.”
Aguni’s eyes take on a glint of mischief.
“Only a problem if we get caught.”
Honestly, it looks divine. Pillowy-soft and the perfect pale-yellow hue, delicate tendrils of steam billowing out as he drags the knife through. You hadn’t ever seen a non-rectangular quiche before, but you suppose it makes sense; there are a fair few people in attendance, and the standard circular composition wouldn’t quite feed everyone.
He serves you first. A corner piece (which he insists are the best), speckled with herbs and studded with little pieces of what you assume to be some kind of ham. Little strings of cheese stick to the blade of the knife, and Aguni scrapes them off with the side of a fork, which he then hands to you.
“Takeru doesn’t cook much,” Aguni explains, playing his own small square, “but when he does...”
The sound that comes from your mouth as you take your first bite of quiche could rival any of those happening in the orgy across the room. Oh, that is so good! Buttery crust, the salt of cheese and ham, the subtle bite of onion—and there’s something else there, something you can’t quite place, but you know it tastes absolutely heavenly. Immediately, you take another bite.
“Grew the herbs de Provence myself,” Aguni mentions, “He refuses to use store-bought.”
“Makes all the difference,” you respond, “I could eat the whole pan by myself.”
“I did that for my last birthday, actually,” Aguni chuckles around a forkful of quiche, “Takeru insisted on putting all thirty-eight candles in before carrying it to the table—you know, like a dumbass. Part of his hair caught fire, and I had to give him a haircut at two in the morning because he was so distraught.”
The two of you laugh—Aguni at the memory, and you at the idea of a tearful Takeru sulking as Aguni snipping the fried locks with a pair of kitchen shears.
“He forgave me, even though I took a whole two inches off,” Aguni sets his empty plate in the sink and looks out of the small window above it, “He’s not a bad guy, you know. Doesn’t always make the best choices, sure, but he’s got a good heart in him.”
There is a sadness here, something in Aguni that speaks to a troubled past you haven’t quite unearthed yet—and you know better than to press him, especially here, especially now.
“Well, I can’t say I’m an expert,” you say, handing him your plate, “but you two seem like decent people. Orgies aside, of course.”
“Of course,” Aguni nods, “though I don’t suppose you’ll come to the next one, will you?”
For the first time since your arrival, you allow yourself to watch the festivities happening across the room. It isn’t that bad, you suppose—it’s just a group of people having a fun time together, laughing and gasping and enjoying each others’ bodies in a safe and comfortable place. It’s not something you necessarily want to do yourself, but...well, the ‘weird’ factor of the whole thing has gone down exponentially over the past hour or so.
“And miss out on the best quiche in Tokyo,” you say, nudging against Aguni’s arm with your shoulder, “not a chance!”
48 notes · View notes
farfromsugafanfic · 4 years ago
Text
Rabbit Hunting
Tumblr media
Genre: Regency AU, slight enemies to lovers, fluff
Pairing: Jungkook/Named Reader
Warnings: none
Synopsis: Marriage is the first thing on your mother’s mind and the last on yours. Especially when you unexpectedly run into a mysterious gentle while on a leisurely walk.
﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤
"Dorothea!" your mother called after you and you cringed at the use of your full name. Your bonnet and shoes were already tied, the basket for wildflowers swinging from your wrist. "Make sure to be back by afternoon! Your cousins will be here tonight and we need to have you looking presentable. You never know who they may bring with them."
You rolled your eyes as you walked out the door and into the crisp early spring air. Whenever the Kim brothers came into Derbyshire it was the talk of the town. Your cousins were three of the handsomest men in all of Europe and they often brought with them equally gorgeous and eligible gentlemen. Your mother was of course desperate to marry you off to one of them. While your situation was not as desperate as that of many other families in Derbyshire, with only you and your younger sister, there wasn't much hope for an inheritance unless each of you married well. 
Your mother had even tried to marry off your poor maid in hopes she would bring back some sort of prosperity to your small manor house. 
﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤
There was nothing you liked better after breakfast than a morning walk. The roads were slightly muddy from the night's rain and the air was fragrant with the smell of the newly sprung spring flowers.
You headed towards the wildflower fields that lay near the estate of Finchfield. It was currently empty, the last tenant having left for France a few years before. Your mother was waiting with baited breath for a handsome gentlemen to come to town and claim Finchfield.
The estate was in sight as you waded into the wildflowers. The grass and some of the flowers came all the way to your hips. You began to pick the prettiest ones for the centerpieces later that night. While your mother had her dreams for your marriage, you had your own. You'd like to think that your future husband would like walks through the wildflower fields, too. Stopping to pick one that matched the color of your dress and placing it behind your ear.
A small rustling interrupted your daydreams and you looked over to see a small brown bunny hopping slowly through the grass. It hadn't noticed you yet, evident from its leisurely pace.
You smiled, remembering the many memories from your childhood of chasing after rabbits with your sister. They normally always outran you or ducked into their burrows before you could capture. Not that you wanted to anyway, it was the thrill of the chase that captivated you most.
You gave away your presence and chased after the creature. It bounded away from you, although it didn't seem particularly terrified, seeming to enjoy your silly antics. Your hair fell out and the bottom of your dress had become filthy, but you cared less as you ran out of breath. The rabbit was out of your sight now, but you could still make out a sliver of the estate in the distance, you certainly hadn't gone as far as you thought. 
After catching your breath, you took off in the direction the animal went. It wasn't long before you came upon the animal again, but instead you found it inside a hunting trap. A man stood nearby, his rifle aimed at the poor creature.
"No, Mister! Don't shoot!" You threw yourself down beside the trap, your hands attempting to open it. 
"Excuse me, Miss, but haven't you been taught not to run in front of a man's rifle?" His gun was lowered now. You didn't recognize him as one of the men from town, but he was certainly one of the handsomest men you'd ever seen. 
"And, don't you know that any true gentlemen does not trap their prey? Now, please release this poor animal. It wouldn't even be in your trap if I hadn't have been chasing it." 
The man looked annoyed, his jaw clenched and his mouth slightly open. Yet, he seemed somewhat amused as he took in your figure. You remembered your hair was an absolute mess, but you found it hard to care in the moment. "Miss, I understand it is not typical for your sex to understand a sport like hunting, but trapping is regular practice and fair."
"Listen, Mr...?" 
"Jeon," the man filled in. 
"Mr. Jeon, I know you only mean to kill this helpless hare for measly sport. I've become quite attached to it and would please release it as a favor to me. Just this once?"
Mr. Jeon's demeanor seemed to change. Instead of annoyed, he seemed mostly amused. You weren't sure if it was simply your charms or your pitiful appearance, but the man reached down and opened the trap. The rabbit scurried away and soon was out of sight. 
"Thank you, Mr. Jeon," you said, a little surprised he had allowed the creature its freedom. You curtsied politely and grabbed your flower basket. 
"You're welcome, Miss," he said. "But, I have done you your favor, may I now ask one of you?"
Words eluded you and just as you were about to choke out something you were thankful to be interrupted. 
"Thea!" a man called out. As he moved closer, you recognized him as your cousin, Taehyung. You ran into your arms and your feet came off the ground as he twirled you. 
"I thought you weren't supposed to arrive until tonight," you said once your feet were planted back on the ground. 
"We are renting Finchfield for our stay," Taehyung said. "We arrived early to familiarize ourselves with the grounds." You heard footsteps approaching behind you. "Ah, I see you've already met Mr. Jeon. Allow me to formally introduce you. Mr. Jeon, this is my cousin Miss Dorothea Kim. Miss Kim, this is Mr. Jeon, a dear friend of mine from Busan." 
He bowed and you curtsied in return. "A pleasure," you said. 
"The pleasure is all mine." He took your hand and kissed your knuckles lightly. 
"Did you get anything?" Taehyung asked, holding up his own bounty of a pheasant. 
"I trapped a rabbit, but your cousin cleverly persuaded me to release it." 
"Ah, Thea has always had a love for animals. You were chasing it weren't you?"
You nodded, color coming to your cheeks. Taehyung smiled and ruffled your hair, messing it up more. You scowled at your older cousin and attempted to flatten it down.
"I'm sure auntie will be thrilled to see you in such a state, cousin," Taehyung said. "Shall we give you a ride back?"
"Thank you, Taehyung, but mother isn't expecting you until dinner time. If you were to come over now, I think she may become overwhelmed. We've spent the last week preparing for your arrival. I'll make my way back now. I think I have enough wildflowers for tonight."
"Please allow me to walk back with you, Miss Kim. I can't let my dear friend's cousin walk alone." 
"Thank you for the kind offer, Mr. Jeon. But, it's certainly not necessary. This my home and I will be perfectly fine walking by myself. And, I worry you wouldn't find your way back to Finchfield." 
Mr. Jeon stood stunned for a moment but nodded. "As you wish, Miss Kim." 
"Oh, Mr. Jeon, as a thank you for your kind favor. Please take this." You picked out a small yellow wildflower and tucked it between his jacket and shirt. "The yellow suits you very well, Mr. Jeon."
75 notes · View notes
dork-empress · 3 years ago
Text
Singing in the Dead of Night Pt 3
Lucy and Damian visit Metropolis.
Past chapters are under my tag 'lucy quinzel' and the whole fic is on my AO3 (url in my description). Please reblog and leave comments.
Flock of Robins
Timtiminey:Guys. Guys. Guess what???
Jason: I thought I deleted this chat.
Timtiminey: Ha funny you think I’d allow you to do that
Timtiminey: And you didn’t guess.
Dickbutt: Tim I’m on a mission.
Dickbutt:.....
Dickbutt: TIM CHANGE MY NAME
Timtiminey: You’re still not guessing.
Dick Grayson’s name was changed to DickiestButtiest
Stephaluffagus: Whatever Is It, Tim?
Jason: Why is Stephanie even on here?
Stephaluffagus: I was a Robin!
Timtiminey: And she asks the questions. Well, you SEE
Timtiminey: DAMIAN GOT A GIRLFRIEND
Stephaluffagus: WHAAAA?!:?HSLHFADSKLJFKL?????
Dick Grayson’s name was changed to DatAssTho
DatAssTho: Awwwww, that’s so cute!!!
DatAssTho: Our little hellion is growing up
DatAssTho: It’s like it was just yesterday he was threatening to stab us all
Jason: That was last week at dinner.
Jason: Who the hell said yes to go out with him?
Timtiminey: That’s the best part! The old man set them up.
Stephaluffagus: ALKSDAN LFKSNDAFLKNDASKLF
DatAssTho: Well thats just not fair. He never set up me on a date.
Jason: He put you on the Titans.
DatAssTho: Watch it, Todd
DatAssTho: Also, you type like an old man
Jason: With proper punctuation?
Stephaluffagus: Guys, we’re straying from the topic: Who is it??
Timtiminey: Harley’s niece, she’s got some like, clown ballerina thing going
Jason: QUINN?!?!?!
Jason: LIKE JOKER’S GIRLFRIEND????
DatAssTho: Dude, they broke up ages ago
Stephaluffagus: Yeah, she’s basically more hero than you are
Jason: You really want to go down THAT route Brown?
Timtiminey: OOOOHKAYYY
Timtiminey: Rest assured, the old man vetted the girl. She’s…..unique? I’ve only seen her file, or part of it anyway
DatAssTho: Bruce has secret files doesn’t he
Timtiminey: I think I made it through the first encryption, but I’m working on the next between other cases.
Timtiminey: After all, we have to make sure she’s alright for our little Dami-kins
Stephaluffagus: Isn’t he on this chat?
Timtiminey: He’s had this muted for ages
Jason: YOU CAN DO THAT?!
Timtiminey: I mean, YOU can’t. I will turn it off for you
Jason: …….
Jason: Well you know it’d be a shame if I
Jason: @DamianWayne
Timtiminey: WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!
Damian: You’re dead Drake
DatAssTho: RIP
Stephaluffagus: He will be remembered
Jason: Prick.
“Get on already,” Damian said, exuding as much disinterested and grumpy energy as his body could manage.
Lucy skipped over to him, and looked at the seating arrangement on the Robin Cycle. “Hmm”, she said, “I don’t know if I’ll fit.” She climbed up to the back of the cycle only for her tutu to spring her backwards.
“What the hell is in that thing?” Damian asked, scowling. whatever had hit him was way more solid than fabric.
“Oh all sorts of things!” she said, “It’s my utilitutu!”
Damian really should have been used to this by now. “Your what.”
“Utility Tutu. I’ve got my balloon animals, my gas bouquet, my tamborine…”
“Well get rid of it or something,” Damian said, and was somehow surprised she did as was asked. Left in just a leotard, she hooked the tutu around her arm and jumped up behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist.
Luckily, he was wearing his helmet, so no one could see him blush.
He revved up the motorcycle to try and drown out his thoughts. They’d been particularly loud ever since Tim said what he said...and, maybe since Lucy said what she said.
Were they dating? Is that what was happening? Lucy had called it a date, but Lucy was weird. It wasn’t like Damian understood how these things were supposed to work. This was super not in the training regime for the League of Assassins.
Did he...want it to be a date? He was even less sure. Lucy was...odd, but she had grown on him. She was the exact opposite of him, cheery where he was brooding, she was peaceful, he was violent. She was...kind and funny and playful. He was super not. they were both smart, but that seemed to be where the similarities ended.
And yet, it kinda worked. She was pretty, in a girly way, or at least thats what he could tell from under her makeup. He’d never been...really interested in girls or anyone. He didn’t know what it was supposed to feel like. If this was how it was supposed to feel like.
Well, he wasn’t going to be forced to be in a relationship with anyone. If she tried anything, he would tell her no, in no uncertain terms. Then he could get Tim and the others to shut up.
Once the decision was made, of course, he was left to ruminate for the remainder of the ride. He might have welcomed some of Lucy’s chatter, just to get his mind off things. Damn Bruce, not letting him use the batmobile…
Finally, a blur appeared beside him. “Need a lift?” Jon asked, rushing along beside him. Damian couldn’t help a smirk as he followed him through the city.
They came to a stop in an alleyway, though it didn’t hide much. “Whoa,” Jon said, eyebrows raised, “Hello, who’s this?”
Lucy stood on the top of the motorcycle, slipping her tutu back on and giving a deep curtsy, “Greetings! I am Commedia, The Dancing Delight, Columbina of Gotham and--”
“She’s Harley Quinn’s niece,” Damian said, cutting her off, “Lucy, Superboy, Superboy, Lucy.”
Lucy jumped down, eyebrow raised, “Now, come on. Surely you boys know how hard it is being defined by those who came before you.”
“Yeah, Robin,” Superboy said, holding out his hand for her to shake, “Honestly, no manners. Nice to meet you, Comme...Colum..um.”
“Lucy’s fine,” she said, “Aunt Harley said it’d be good for me to go and see some of Metropolis, maybe get some shopping done.”
Jon smiled, “Well, there’s plenty to do around here, and you picked the perfect tour guide! Come on, Mom and Dad are working today. I’ll show you around.”
Damian followed the pair of them around at a pace where you could just barely tell he was part of the same group. He was in his black outfit again, with sunglasses so that Lucy couldn’t tell who he was, and all of Metropolis wouldn’t know Robin wasn’t in Gotham.
Jon took them on the full tourist tour, going to see the many wonders of Metropolis. Though, a few stops Damian was pretty sure weren’t on the main route, like when they went to the top of the Daily Planet building. Other than that, though, it was a lot of pretty buildings, old buildings, the Superman memorial/dedication (they just left it up when Superman came back) and other sites that were considered important.
Damian sulked, having seen all these before and not finding them any more impressive than the first time or any time after that. What did surprise him was that Lucy didn’t seem any more impressed than him. He would have thought she’d go Gaga over the tourist trappings, considering she react to abandoned (allegedly) mines like a family at Disney World.
But she looked at each one, nodded in appreciation, and went onto the next thing.
Jon was kinda weirded out by it too, Damian could tell, not that Jon was ever subtle. He kept looking to Damian as if to try and explain her behavior, not that he was ever going to be doing that.
“Ok,” Jon said, as they sat outside the capitol, “Is there anything you WANT to see?”
Lucy shrugged, “To be honest, buildings don’t really interest me that much. But I’m glad to have gone with you, of course.”
“For fuck’s sake,” Damian said, “What’s the point of going around like this if you don’t even like it? We went around all damn day for YOU!”
Lucy tilted her head, “We went so that Superboy could show us things and we could get to know him.” She smiled at him, “You clearly admire Superman a lot, and you’re clearly like him. I’m glad you get along with your dad so well.”
Jon smiled, confused, but appreciative, “Thanks?” Damian grumbled. “But, I’d like to get to know YOU better as well. So if there’s something you like, the city has everything.”
Lucy hummed, “I honestly mostly just like to people watch in my free time.”
Jon beamed, “Oh man, I have the perfect place then.”
With a hop, skip, and a kryptonian-powered jump, the three of them were in the rafters of the Metropolis Subway station, looking down at everything and everyone as they went by. Damian was just glad they were inside, and being underground had him feeling a bit more at home.
Lucy practically sparkled, leaning way too far over to look at everyone. “What are they saying? Can you hear them?”
“Uh, which ones?” Jon said. She pointed aggressively. “Well, that one’s a family on vacation, the dad there is going over the itinerary, he’s got it printed out. The daughter there is trying to get him to skip the museums so they can get to the aquarium faster.”
“Ohh, what’s at the aquarium?” Lucy asked, kicking her feet like a child.
“Some fish, jelly fish are cool...Oh, they got a new shark there, I think.”
Damian groaned again, “Ugh, who CARES? If you wanted to go to the aquarium, then lets go to the aquarium! Instead of just watching someone TALK about it! These are all just normal people!”
“Robin, dude,” Jon said, “If it’s what she wants, why not? We are here for HER after all.”
That in of itself would have been enough to shame Damian, but Lucy was staring at him. She stared unblinking, and unsmiling. It was actually creepy. Like she was staring through him.
“Nobody’s normal.” She said, very seriously, her voice no longer taking on the cheery affectation. “Not a single one that I’ve ever met. Many of them TRY to be normal, but it is an illusion. A moving target, an ideal that doesn’t exist and people are shamed for not attempting to achieve.”
Damian could feel himself resist leaning away from her. “Uh, Lucy?” Jon said, “Something you want to talk about?”
Lucy blinked like she was remembering she was supposed to. “I suppose it is personal to me,” she said, “My…mother was always a little scared of Aunt Harley. First scared of her success, then scared of her villainous career. She always wanted to be normal. She wanted…me to be normal. She was scared of what I’d be. Who I’d be like.” She smiled, an echo of her previous smile, “It’s not quite the same as being a disciple for a great hero like Superman or Batman.”
Jon was suddenly looking very awkward. “Well,” He said, “I mean, having Harley Quinn as your aunt isn’t that bad. And you’re good anyway! So, no need to worry.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Lucy said, “It doesn’t matter if I was good or bad. It just matters that I was strange.” She tilts her head, looking down at the mass of people rushing back and forth. “Ever since I was little, people didn’t feel…real. They’re just. Stories. I couldn’t relate to my peers, as my teachers would say. I don’t know how to explain it. The only time I tried, my mom was so scared she sent me to a camp. One of those meant for bad kids to help them behave.” She tilted her head, “But they weren’t bad. They all had different stories. I realized there were no normal people. Just people with stories.”
Damian couldn’t have spoken if it was to yell for help. He stared at Lucy, trying to decide if he should be concerned or sympathetic.
Jon cleared his throat. “Well, I think you’re nice. And that’s what’s important. No problem with learning more about people and helping them.”
Lucy smiled, “Thank you.”
Jon’s head whipped to the side. “Ah, shoot, Dad’s calling me. I’ll be right back.” Lucy’s cheery attitude was back and she nodded, as Jon took off.
Lucy looked over at Damian for a moment. Damian felt he should say something. Apologize, maybe? He wasn’t sure what would be appropriate, and if it was appropriate, would Lucy want it. She worked on a whole other level, that was clear.
Lucy went back to watching people below her.
“My mom,” Damian started, not sure where he was going to end his sentence. Rule one of being in his family was to not reveal details about himself. But it was Lucy and she…she was his friend. “She was a…she’s a villain. I was supposed to be too. Maybe would have been if I didn’t go to live with Batman.”
Lucy nodded, “That sounds like a very interesting story,” Lucy said, “Thank you for telling me.” She tilted her head towards him. “Hey Robin, there’s this comedy place here in Metropolis I looked up. I was hoping maybe we could go tonight? I’m kind of a comedy nerd, and it’s always good to support people at an open mic. Maybe you’d even laugh once.”
Damian braced himself. This was a date. She was asking him on a date. He had prepared himself for this. “I can’t,” Damian said, the words practiced, “I don’t think of you that way. We can hang out and…be friends, but no.” There. No question about it.
Lucy looked at him, and tilted her head, thinking. “Ok,” She said, simply. Didn’t seem too heartbroken. It was a relief. “Hey Superboy,” She said, voice raise just slightly on the sounds of trains, “Do you want to go on a date to a comedy club tonight with me?”
There was a brief pause, then with a burst of wind, Jon jumped up back to the rafters. “Yeah, that sounds good,” and they shared smiles, “Robin, I can get her back to Gotham if you want to head home.”
Damian blinked, trying to process what exactly was happening. “I–,” technically, he wasn’t supposed to leave Lucy, for reasons Batman hadn’t been overly clear about. But if something was going to happen, she’d be plenty safe with Jon. Still, he wanted to argue this, even though he had nothing, and he knew he had nothing. “Sure, that sounds fine.”
Jon held out his hand to help him down, but he could easily get out by himself. And so, alone, he went home. And he didn’t understand the strange feeling in his gut.
Bruce stretched his neck coming down to the batcave, seeing Tim on the computer. “Commissioner Gordon has kindly invited Batman and Robin to the Wayne charity Christmas Party on my behalf,” he said, “I’ve got Dick coming down to wear the Batsuit for me. I’m going to work to have Damian as Robin, but would you and Steph take on patrols that night? At least some of us should actually be doing work.”
Tim didn’t answer. He stared blankly into the computer. Bruce sighed, most likely he didn’t hear him. “How long have you been down here? You’re going to ruin your–”
“Are you planning on telling Damian?” Tim asked.
Bruce paused and looked at what Tim was staring at. It was medical records of Delia Quinzel, specifically of her pregnancy.
Specifically the fake pregnancy records that Bruce had made. “What are you talking about?” Bruce asked.
“Please don’t insult me,” Tim said, face stoic, “You really think I can’t recognize your digital fingerprint all over these files?”
Bruce took a few deep breaths. “Have you told anyone?”
“Hell no,” Tim said, finally looking up, “And I cleaned up your mess. But I don’t know if anyone else has looked into this before now.” Tim glared at Bruce, “So I ask again, are you planning on telling Damian that you’ve put him in charge of protecting Joker’s biological daughter from her own father?”
Bruce came over and looked at the corrected records. They were, in fact, cleaner. Bruce’s were too normal. Tim added in complications that could have happened, just enough to make people think they’d already found what was wrong. “We don’t know what Joker knows.”
“Oh, and he just happened to escape Arkham and disappear at around the same time a teen starts hanging around his ex-girlfriend.” Tim said, dryly.
“If he does know,” Bruce said, “Then its our job to stop him. If he doesn’t, then we still stop him. But Lucy has a target on her back one way or another.”
“Which is why you put Damian in front of it?” Tim said.
“I trust Damien,” Bruce said, “To protect her. But I don’t want him to be biased against her because of her parents.”
“So, you’re putting him at risk, so that he can make friends?” Tim demanded, arms crossed.
Bruce took a deep sigh. “One day,” he said, “Lucy is going to have to confront where she’s come from. And the rest of us are too. I’m trying to give us all the best chance.” Bruce said, “Besides, Damian needs more friends other than Jon.”
Tim screwed up his face, then snorted. “Alright, old man,” he said, “I’ll go with your plan for now. But if something goes belly up, I reserve the right to at least one ‘I told you so.’”
“A fair compromise,” Bruce said, “What have you found about Joker’s movements?”
“He’s going quiet right now, which isn’t much like him,” Tim said, “But I think I’ve tied him to this fancy surgical robot that’s gone missing from Gotham Hospital.”
“Well, I’m sure there’s nothing mind-breakingly awful he can do with that,” Bruce said, sarcastically. “Let’s take it to the streets.”
Tim jumped up and followed him to the batmobile.
7 notes · View notes
wanderingchocolateeclair · 4 years ago
Text
BNHA Spring Break - Day 3: Headcanons
I wanted to do this prompt but I didn’t know what to do, so I thought that I might re-post a few of my favourite pieces I’ve done (basically just a lot of Edgejeanist and EctoLoader lmao), along with the headcanon that links to it and some other headcanons? 😊
Put it under the cut just because the post is a little longer than my other ones!
Tumblr media
- Edgejeanist have an awful, basically non-existent, sleeping schedule and often end up just sleeping like this at 2:00am
Tumblr media
- The top five are just one massive chaotic family :) (this still makes me laugh when I see it)
Tumblr media
- EctoLoader are just a very lovely old married couple 😌
Tumblr media
- Edgejeanist are almost at that point 👀 they also have matching lockets that I seem to forget to draw every single time-
Other Headcanons from my notes (mostly ecto, PL + snipe):
Snipe is a single dad, and has a lovely little daughter (who I’ve drawn in the family doodles that I have yet to finish and post)
Erasermic, eri and shinsou are one big family of course.
Ectoplasm and Snipe are very competitive and have known each other since childhood
Ecto is very musically talented
Powerloader really loves music (for what reason I wonder) and can play the drums and sing pretty well
The whole faculty have staff movie nights every week to relax and it’s adorable.
Sometimes the students will walk in to report something and they’re all just sobbing at 2:00am watching like the titanic or something
They’ll also have nights where they stay up playing wii sports or something and let me tell you it’s the most intense thing you’ll ever see
Oh and of course mario kart you can hear mic yelling whenever he does anything
Powerloader curses A LOT but always gets a lil smack round the head from Ecto or snipe if they hear him
Midnight is the mum of the whole staff - you need something?? Got it don’t worry!
13 is baby, nothing else needs to be said.
Powerloader is allergic to dogs. And pineapple?
Hound dog really just wants cuddles all the time, from anyone
Cementoss is just an absolute sweetheart.
Powerloader will get struck with sudden ideas for inventions or anything and when he does everyone has to jump out of his way unless they want to get bowled over - he will jump up from WHATEVER he’s doing and leg it to wherever he can take notes
Karaoke. Karaoke. KARAOKE!!!
At any given chance or moment Ecto and Powerloader will tease the hell out of Snipe and just give him a real hard time for anything
The teachers have once walked into a VERY intense makeover session involving Eri, Aizawa, Mic, Midnight, Hound Dog and Powerloader. All in a hair braiding train and bows eveRYWHERE. Let’s just say that the remaining teachers have quite a few of those photos saved. It is now a very common occurrence
When eri first came to live at the dorms ectoplasm and hound dog were scared that they might scare her but actually she came to liking them the most out of all the other teachers
Recovery girl will attack any of the teachers whenever they are being careless and they physically cannot retaliate it’s hilarious
Despite possibly being older than the other teachers, due to his lack of knowledge with actually teaching, all might is babied a lot by the other teachers and it’s like “for the 5th time today, no punching another student is not within school regulations all might gOD-” (taken from a convo with a friend)
You have chaotic trio number one: midnight, mic and Aizawa...... but what about snipe, ectoplasm and powerloader??? Chaos on a completely different level..
And principal nezu.....nothing else said just principal nezu
Cementoss makes the best tea
Mic chugs like 5 litres of coffee every morning
The teachers have dance offs
Snipe also has a dog
When all the teachers have marking to do 13 bakes the best cookies and they just go around the dorm handing plates of them out to every room
Any gossip?? Ectoplasm somehow accumulates it all. It’s just weekly sessions of the teachers gossiping about their students and the main three collectors of this gossip are ectoplasm, midnight and recovery girl??
Snipe has bad asthma and it worsened after that accident (will be elaborated on when I decide to write out my EctoLoader backstory)
PL has very sensitive eyes due to the amount of time he spends underground in the dark - hence why he likes to have his hair over his eyes, and it’s a comfort thing.
Out of the 40 y/o trio(let’s just pretend that snipe has an age for now) Ecto is the most patient and calm and PL is the least. Snipe is somewhere in the middle.
Despite this, shockingly, in their UA days and even now, Ecto was the one that got into the most fights and is the hardest to restrain when angry (it’s always the calm ones huh?) but it’s mostly due to how much he cares- so if someone comments on someone he cares about he will not hesitate to step up and confront - he is pretty tall and intimidating after all.
Due to this, when something happens that the other two knows will make him angry they have to latch onto him or grab him by the back of his shirt to stop him from charging off.
PL on the other hand will be scooped up by the other two to calm down - Ecto picks him up and he calms down quite quickly however back in the day + for snipe in general, if they would pick him up it would result in a couple of bumps and bruises first.
Recovery girl has no shame in bringing this up to anyone she can and it makes them rather embarrassed + Ecto refuses to believe he got in the most fights he will always say it was PL. But snipe confirms the truth
Obviously each of the teachers will have their own ways of winding down after a stressful day or their own ways of brainstorming their ideas and venting under stress.
Ecto’s way of doing this is playing whatever instrument he has lying near him - often violin - and pacing aggressively whilst noodling about (definitely not based off of something I do 👀). Or listening to music if just relaxing but normally aggressively relieving stress by banging out some tunes. PL and snipe know to leave him be when he’s like this and just maybe leave a drink or snack on the side - he’ll get it later.
Mic often does the same, or just joins in.
And that leads to full on music sessions with all the teachers joining in, singing and what not.
I have more but I’ll post it some other day. Sorry for the long post, you guys know me and my tendency to ramble-
52 notes · View notes
uchihasakurawrites · 4 years ago
Text
A Lesson in Practicality (1)
Rating: T for language & depictions of violence
Summary: It takes a near-death experience in Yukigakure for Sakura to realize that Sasuke has her back in more ways than one.
Word Count: 3,154
A/N: This idea was going to be a short drabble, but the storyline ended up going in a direction that I didn’t initially plan for. There will be a Part Two (of 2). Part One has more implied SasuSaku - Sasuke will play a much more significant role in the next part! There’s a very high chance that this is going to be a prequel for the longer SasuSaku fic I’m currently working on. 
Let me know what you think, please!! Thank you to everyone who has left feedback on my work thus far~ 
Cross-posted on AO3 and Fanfiction
______________________________________________   
Sakura had heard enough stories from her fellow kunoichi about birthday gifts from their boyfriends to know that Sasuke’s definition of a gift was unique, to say the least.
Sai’s most recent gift to Ino was simple - a modest bouquet of flowers, carefully cultivated to convey a special message, a basket of cherry tomatoes from his personal garden, and a painting of the two of them on what Ino later told Sakura was their engagement day. Naruto once took Hinata on a two-week getaway to the hot spring resorts of Yugakure for her first birthday after they became official (though Hinata later let it slip that Naruto hadn’t informed Hiashi of their vacation and was subsequently banned from the Hyuuga compound for the foreseeable future). Chouji hosted a surprise birthday party for Karui just a few months after she migrated to Konoha, complete with her closest friends from Kumogakure and a home-cooked buffet. Even Shikamaru had stepped up his game with a private couple’s cooking class at Amaguriama, knowing that Temari would punt him to Suna if he showed up with just the personalized shogi piece he had originally planned on giving to her.
Temari had still barely let him escape, fully aware that Shikamaru had organized the class in hopes of never having to go out of his way to buy her favorite sweets again if she could just make them herself. Watching him burn three batches of roasted chestnuts was enough of a gift in itself.
Sasuke hadn’t been in the village for any of Sakura’s birthdays since before his defection back in their genin days. Even then, she couldn’t remember him going out of his way to give her a gift beyond grumbling out a low “Happy Birthday” if team training happened to coincide with her birthday.
To say that Sakura was shocked when she awoke to the tap tap tap of a messenger bird at her window before dawn on her nineteenth birthday was an understatement. Her grumbles at being awakened at such an hour on a day Ino had explicitly banned Sakura from working stopped the second she recognized the bird as Sasuke’s hawk. After fumbling with the latch on her window for a moment - she swore that the hawk gave her some serious side-eye when it took her three tries to get the latch to unstick - she held out her wrist for the bird. It left in the next breath, right after Sakura untied the scroll it was carrying. Sakura frowned at the hawk’s manners as she hadn’t even gotten to send a reply but realized she shouldn’t expect much. Of course Sasuke’s summons would take on his taciturn attitude.
The note tied to the scroll was simple: A last resort.
Huffing a laugh at the note, which was so very Sasuke, Sakura made quick work of the scroll’s seal. She immediately recognized the script as a summoning scroll, though she couldn’t parse out exactly what the summons was. Most likely one of Sasuke’s if he had sent it to her - a hawk or a snake. She sincerely hoped for the former.
Her first Chunin exams had effectively wrecked snakes for her.
Sakura resealed the scroll with a small smile. She had learned what she was getting into quite quickly when she first realized her love for Sasuke ran deeper than a surface-level crush. Any relationship she had with him wouldn’t be normal, be it romantic or platonic. Sasuke’s definition of a relationship was understandably different than most others; she had to learn how to read into the small gestures and unspoken words he left between them - the forehead pokes, the thank you’s, and the occasional mumbled annoying. There would be no typical gifts, no grand romantic gestures, and she was okay with that.
She had hardly expected a congratulatory note for her birthday, let alone a physical gift. Sure, a summoning scroll might not be the most conventional gift, but Sakura figured the practicality of it summed up Sasuke’s approach to relationships perfectly: securing the safety of those closest to him. This particular gesture meant she was at least somewhere on his (very short) list of valuable people in his life.  
So when she tucked the scroll away, she did so with a smile, knowing that the added weight next to her medical supplies was a comfort that Sasuke had her back no matter where he was.
                                                 *   *   *   *   *
Sakura discovered that sentiment was far more literal than she had initially thought as she fled the scene of an assassination mission gone wrong in Yukigakure. Eliminating the target - a noble displaced by the war who sought to sow seeds of discontent against the ruling family - was fairly straightforward. A quick henge, a few unconscious guards, and a convenient chakra-induced heart attack left no trace to Konoha or the royal family.
The bounty hunters on her tail were decidedly less straightforward.
Since the end of the war, Sakura’s field mission count had dropped drastically. With Tsunade out of the village, rebuilding and strengthening Konoha’s medical system fell squarely on her shoulders. Ino’s support with the Children’s Mental Health Clinic left some room in her schedule for diplomatic medical missions to neighboring villages as a show of goodwill after the Allied Shinobi Forces dissolved, but she was rarely included in combat units. Kakashi had only assigned her to this solo mission as a favor to Koyuki since she was already familiar with Sakura from her genin days. Relations between Konoha and Iwagakure had been steady enough after the war, but Kakashi couldn’t risk instability in a country so close to Iwa.
While Sakura had kept up with her combat skills as well as she could through spars and periodic demonstrations at the Academy, she could feel the rust in her reaction times as she adjusted her own fighting style to the unfamiliar terrain. Snow meant additional chakra expenditure to maintain body temperature and keep her feet planted firmly on the ground; it took her the first few moments of the pursuit just to adjust her fighting style so that she wouldn’t go skidding across ice when she followed through on her punches.
It was the split second of hesitation between her noticing the first hunter rapidly approaching from behind and actually lunging to the left to avoid his attack that cost her a kunai to the thigh. The wound was deep, but Sakura was less concerned about the fact that she could clearly see the muscle fibers in her leg and more concerned about neutralizing the unknown poison that was trying to spread from it. Sewing the skin together enough to stop the bleeding was second nature; it was maintaining a chakra net around the wound to contain the poison that required a bit more focus.
Based on both their speed and specialized jutsu, Sakura guessed the hunters were at least jounin-level. Ten to twelve  total based on a quick extension of her sensory jutsu. Had this been a different situation, Sakura would have been flattered that someone thought she was dangerous enough to send so many high-level shinobi to ambush her. She made a quick mental note to thank Karin for training her in a variant of the Kagura Shingan jutsu.
Running forever wasn’t an option, especially at the pace she was being forced to keep. She needed to start picking these guys off - she figured she had faced far worse odds and won.
Sakura slid to a stop and waited precisely six seconds for about half of the hunters to catch up before she drove her fist into the ground. Unsteady ground and low visibility from the snow she had loosened caught the two closest hunters off guard, and she pressed her advantage to neatly slice their jugulars open with chakra scalpels. She took note of their appearance, standard shinobi gear in shades of white and grey and curiously blank hitai-ates linked around both of their necks, and paused just long enough to snatch one of the headbands for later inspection. She tucked it into her medical pouch before rounding to face the next wave of hunters.
Most of the remaining nin were smart enough to keep their distance; they must have done enough research on her to know that engaging her in close-combat was the fastest way to lose. The nin fell into a loose semicircle formation around her, half close enough for mid-range attacks and half further back. If they were Iwa or Yuki missing nin, she could expect mostly Water and Earth-style jutsu - the same affinities she had, but probably much more practiced.
Keeping a firm hold on her Kagura Shingan to track her opponents, Sakura quickly formed the seals for Suiton: Kiri Shikaku she had picked up during a brief stay in Kiri and saw an immediate improvement in her vision. She caught four hunters in her visual range and charged forward, hoping to close the distance between them fast enough for her to get a clean hit. All four flew through the same familiar sequence of hand signs she had seen from Iwa nin during the war, and a solid rock wall about ten feet high erupted in her path.
Not deterred in the slightest by the barrier, Sakura augmented her speed with chakra and drove a fist into the wall. The rock gave more resistance to her wrist than normal, so she quickly adjusted the chakra concentration in her knuckles to absorb the additional force. The hunters, she guessed, had infused their chakra into the wall in hopes that the reinforcement would injure her wrist or at least slow her down.
Sakura smirked as her fist drove clean through the wall and followed her punch up with a roundhouse to shatter it. Their chakra control was good if they could spread it so finely across the surface of the wall - but hers was better.
She darted towards the closest target and delivered a punch to his gut that snapped his spine clean in half. His partner appeared at her side in the next breath, driving his katana towards her neck and forcing her to drop to her knees to dodge. Sakura swept her leg underneath the nin’s feet, ignoring the stinging sensation of the snow on her skin as she followed the nin’s dodge up with a well-aimed kunai. The weapon landed squarely in the back of his dominant hand and forced him to change grips on his katana.
A small part of Sakura’s mind was immediately suspicious when the two other nin closest to them chose to charge her head-on instead of retreating. Perhaps she had given them too much credit if they were reckless enough to rush into a taijutsu battle with her just because she had taken a few of them out.
It made more sense when chains of water shot out from the ground to bind her ankles and wrists firmly to the ground - the work of the long-range nins’ combined Suiton: Suikusari no Jutsu. They must have been watching for an opening to slow her down long enough for the mid-range hunters to close in on her and deliver a killing blow.
The chains were sturdier than any suiton she had faced in the past, no doubt due to the number of hunters who were focused on restraining her. Sakura channeled a burst of pure chakra to the surface of the skin on her wrists, ankles, and torso; anywhere the chains touched, she honed in on. She could either drive her chakra into the chains, slow down the water molecules in them so that they turned to ice, and shatter them, or push her chakra directly outwards to free herself long enough to move away from the chains.
The first option would have been a more permanent solution, but the breath of a hunter nin on her neck forced Sakura into the second. With a shannaro! Sakura willfully tore her body out of the chains, redirected the chakra to her feet, and used the closest nin’s chest as a platform to fling herself over the chains and out of reach. She shoved one foot into the woman’s chest and used the other to bat a kunai with an explosive tag away from them both.
What Sakura didn’t account for was the nin she had planted her foot on reacting quickly enough to snag her ankle and drag her to the ground with her. She used the momentum of her fall to slide further away from the chains and twisted her ankle to free herself. Ice-covered rocks sliced at her forearms and stomach, but she drove her fingers into the ground to lever herself forward.
Crippling pain radiated from her ankle as soon as she was free, drawing a hoarse cry from her throat. She hadn’t seen a weapon in the nin’s hand, and there was no open wound. A second wave of searing pain nearly brought Sakura to her knees yet again, and she reached out for her medical chakra to send to inspect the area as she narrowly vaulted over a windmill shuriken -
Only to find that summoning her chakra felt like pulling a viscous liquid through a fine sieve. The chakra that had been isolating the poison around her wounds only stayed in place from sheer force of will. She spared a quick glance at her ankle, eyes widening at the black seal branded onto her skin.
Fuinjutsu.
Sakura didn’t recognize the seal and didn’t have time to inspect it further. Water chains exploded from the ground beneath her just as four hunters lunged at her from each direction. She jumped into the air, twisting to narrowly avoid a series of kunai. A loose shuriken lodged into her calf. Sakura immediately recognized the signs of poison digging into her system; she also recognized with a growing trepidation that it took far more of her concentration than she could spare to dredge up the medical chakra necessary to isolate it.
Whatever seal the hunters had placed on her was blocking her chakra flow, but not in a way she had experienced before. Training with Shizune’s poisons and Hinata’s tenketsu blocks hadn’t prepared her for this. Her chakra wasn’t completely inaccessible, but it was as though a fine mesh had settled over each of her chakra points. It was as though the hunters hoped she would continue trying to mold her chakra, exhausting herself enough in the process that they could take her out.
Her dread grew when she reached out for her Byakugo only to feel the same fine mesh blocking her access. She could still feel the mass of chakra settled behind her forehead, but she doubted she could summon enough of it fast enough to make a significant difference in this fight.
Sakura had a sinking feeling that this seal, which she hadn’t even come across in the Uzumaki fuinjutsu scrolls Naruto had lent to her, was designed specifically to hinder ninja with her level of chakra control and reserves. It didn’t matter how much control she had if it took her six times as long to drag her chakra to a specific point. Keeping the poison in her system at bay occupied enough of her attention at the moment. Evading the seemingly endless water chains that followed her and the four nins on her tail only added to her exhaustion.
One of the hunters managed to land a kick squarely on her side, cracking at least two ribs. Sakura took another blow to her back, and she twisted to catch the nin’s ankle. She snapped it cleanly in two, baring her teeth as she drove a kunai into the kunoichi’s neck before she could finish the seals for an Earth-style jutsu.
She managed to keep with this rhythm long enough to incapacitate another two nin but knew that she was reaching her limit. She took a half dozen more hits from the closest hunters and a particularly nasty cut from a katana before she pulled back, focused on her seal, and pushed. Black lines twisted down her face and startled the hunters long enough for her to shunt what chakra she could get ahold of to the soles of her boots. The force of the chakra from her seal was enough to push what little she needed through.
Sakura took off at a sprint, running as far and as fast as she could in the opposite direction of the hunters who immediately followed suit. Knowing her options were limited, Sakura scrambled behind the first large boulder she could find and snapped the highest level genjutsu she could manage over the surrounding area. Her jaw clenched to choke off a scream at the fire that lanced through her chakra network as she forced her chakra into the jutsu.
Her chakra control, it seemed, was not better than whichever nin had developed this seal.
She quickly surveyed her condition - several lacerations, at least two cracked ribs, and more poison in her system than she could afford to isolate at once - and realized that the seal on her ankle was not only making it more difficult to mold chakra but also draining it. Sakura immediately withdrew her own chakra, slamming her Yin seal down before the hunter’s seal could touch her reserves. Without her Byakugo, Sakura figured she barely had enough chakra to maintain her genjutsu and keep the poison around her major wounds locked in place. Healing herself would do nothing but leave her drained and vulnerable when the hunter nins eventually found her.
Her genjutsu skills had improved drastically under Kurenai’s tutelage, but the hunter nins would eventually figure out what she had done and double back to find her. They knew as well as she did that she wasn’t in a condition to flee very far.
Without hesitation, Sakura withdrew the summoning scroll Sasuke had given her from a pouch at her hip and snapped it open. She didn’t have enough chakra to summon enough of Katsuyu to be useful, and Sakura would be long dead before reinforcements came even if she did ask Katsuyu to send a message to Konoha.
As much as she hated snakes, Sakura desperately hoped for Aoda as she drew a bloodied thumb across the parchment (though the rational part of her brain noted she probably didn’t have the chakra to handle that level of summons either). She blanched at the strain the summons put on her chakra network and wondered belatedly if she had overestimated how much of what little chakra she had left she could actually direct towards the summons. Slamming her eyes shut with a choked cry, Sakura visualized grabbing onto the thin trails of chakra that creaked through her veins and pulled.
If she’d had the energy for it, Sakura is certain she would have screamed when it was neither a hawk nor a snake that appeared before her - but rather, Sasuke Uchiha himself.
180 notes · View notes