#i wish my thoughts would just transform themselves to words on paper

[softlysuga]

i said i would post once a week...it's been a week...no progress...

[thegothingtons]

The next day in Glimmerbrook ...

After Clementine received the news of Kolamano's disappearance, panic broke out in the Gothington household. Clementine and Benjamin immediately traveled to the realm of magic to assess the situation on-site.

In addition to Kolamano, the other two sages were also attacked again.

The Whoohoo with John was very varied. It was as if he could read her mind and her wishes from her eyes. Therefore, Danielle's heart began to beat faster as soon as she thought of him. He was not just one of the three sages. He could become the man Danielle could imagine growing old with. Was that love?

At the same time, she wondered how badly he had been injured. She was also urged to travel to Realm of Magic to check on him. But she had no right to do so.

She had also promised her aunt that she would take care of the girls. But as soon as they teleported to school, the silence in the house made them furious. Therefore, she decided to visit her father and sister across the street.

Anne had hours off that day. So they sat together with their father at the dining table and studied. Danielle joined them.

Danielle: "Dad, do you have something to say if I put my university term paper on your. laptop."

Bishop: "Of course not. Get started." He enjoyed having his girls around him.

Anne: "Did you hear that from the sage from the realm? One has even disappeared."

Danielle and her father exchanged silently worried looks.

Bishop: "Yes, we have."

Danielle: "Grandpa and Aunt Clementine are there right now to help."

Anne: "Shouldn't we?“

Bishop: "If they need us, they will let us know."

I bit Anne's lips. "Have you heard anything about Jana?" She would have liked to bite her tongue off for this question, but gradually she began to worry seriously about her hated sister.

Bishop was silent and averted his gaze. Of course, he had been researching the whereabouts of his daughter. She stayed with Alden in his new, actually completely run-down, mansion in Forgotten Hollow. There is another woman with the two, according to the rumors she is a vampire. He was so shocked by it that he has not yet brought himself to talk about it.

Danielle noticed that he didn't want to share his thoughts with them. She stared at him angrily." What do you know?"

Bishop: "Nothing."

Danielle became louder: "Why are you lying to us. What's wrong with Jana?"

Bishop hesitated and turned. "She's with Uncle Alden ... in the house he bought in Forgotten Hollow."

Danielle froze. "Forgotten Hollow is a vampire nest. How could he buy a house there?"

Bishop: "There's this woman. Blonde, very pale. After Rebekah's death, he gave himself completely to this woman, or even submitted to her - who can say."

Danielle thought about his words and then she felt nauseous. "This woman, is she a vampire?"

Bishop: "Probably."

Danielle screamed: "And Jana is there?! How can you let that happen? You know she's completely obsessed with these monsters! She blames us mages for the war, claims that we are suppressing the vampires and that they have a right to defend themselves against us."

Bishop is ashamed: "Yes, I know."

Danielle slapped her hands in front of her face. Thoughts chased into her head. The attack in Ciudad Enamorada, Michaela's death. "Jana has already been transformed."

Bishop looked at her in shock, as if struck by lightning. "What do you mean?"

Danielle: "Grandpas protection spell could only be overcome by a vampire who is connected to our bloodline. It was her. She killed her own mother."

Anne cried out in horror and Bishop began to cry. The idea that it had happened like this was terrible and unimaginable. Still Danielle knew it was the truth.

[aminiatureworld]

A Slow Flame

Characters: Scaramouche, gn!reader

Word Count: 1,346

Warnings: None

Premise: Love is often like a flame, and sometimes that flame takes a while to catch. Yet it is no less bright when it finally does.

In which Scaramouche slowly falls in love

Author’s Note: Since this was requested as a headcanon I put it in bullet pointed format. Although I haven’t written proper headcanons in years, so this might read very similar to my scenarios. Nevertheless I hope you enjoy.  

When you first came into Scaramouche’s life he could hardly believe in your existence.

Most of the new recruits learned quickly enough to leave the icy Harbinger alone, knew that currying favor was an utterly useless endeavor, and found his personality grating at best. And yet you were insistent on sticking around, or sticking around as much as a lowly soldier could.

First on time to drill, first to get to meals, first to respond to questions and first to inquire after details in return. Scaramouche couldn’t figure you out, brushing you off as a try-hard or as an innocent who would quickly give up and run away. People such as you didn’t exist. They simply disappeared.

And yet you didn’t.

The trust grew slowly. If efficiency was valuable coin in the Tsaritsa’s army, then loyalty was priceless. Scaramouche knew that, could not understand why you would then offer such a thing to him. How could he trust it? It made no sense.

Yet you made no attempt to betray him, no attempt to pawn off information or get some bribe out of him. And slowly, almost unconsciously, he began to rely upon you.

At first he couldn’t see that the line was blurring.

When pressed with the question of your value in his eyes he would brush it off as you simply being the most qualified Fatui member he’d ever worked with. Of course he preferred your company to that of the rest of the lackeys, those fools who tripped over themselves trying to do the simplest of tasks. You were his most loyal soldier. Why shouldn’t he prefer your company?

You, in turn, made no attempt to close the gap that existed between you two. If you loved Scaramouche you did a good job of hiding it. And, of course, no one would ever bring such a topic up otherwise. Anyone who did would surely have a death wish, as Scaramouche would have their clothes singed to black in a second.

Within such an atmosphere perhaps it should’ve been no surprise that he never thought to examine his feelings for you. And yet, just because he didn’t examine them didn’t mean they stopped growing.

His first recognition of his feelings was when you were enlisted in a task headed by one of the lesser generals. Though the operation only lasted three days and you were soon back by his side Scaramouche found those three days surprisingly disarming. He’d grown accustomed to your presence, to the surety that you were always by his side. To be deprived of that felt like a shock to his system.

He even found himself unconsciously calling to you. Turning over his shoulder, expecting your advice, only to be met with the bare wall of his tent. Even the embarrassment of such a mistake couldn’t hide the unease that floated around him those three days.

When you finally returned it was as if Scaramouche had finally set foot on solid ground again.

After that he began to notice you more, as if finally becoming aware of your presence. No longer were you a loyal shadow, something that grew and changed in the light, fleeting and unobtrusive. No, now you were vivid, finally put into color by those days in which you were gone.

The first thing he noticed were your expressions. Before, he hadn’t really registered your gestures, the little habits that all people carry within themselves. Now your expressions hypnotized Scaramouche. The way in which you leaned slightly forward when laughing, the fact that one side of your lips tilted upwards before the other when you smiled, the way your face stilled when you were considering something, with only your eyes revealing the thoughts and considerations going through your mind. These expressions seemed new to Scaramouche and he reveled in them.

He began to wonder if you noticed the same things. Did you ever muse on the way his hands grasped pencils and mugs and papers? Did you also smile at the ways his eyes shined when he was excited – something admittedly rare? Were you suddenly as aware of him as he was of you, or had you not noticed yet? Had you always noticed, and he was the one being slow?

And yet he still didn’t connect it with love.

Then you were called away to Liyue.

Under Dottore’s supervision you were to study ruin guards; how they worked, what purpose they served, all these tasks were now up to you. Scaramouche wasn’t actually sure who had made the decision. He assumed it was the Tsaritsa. Perhaps because if not he would’ve never been able to agree to it.

After that Scaramouche turned colder. Suddenly he didn’t care as much; didn’t care about his subordinates, didn’t care about the infantile missions he’d been sent on. Didn’t care that Signora had already claimed a gnosis, and he was lagging dreadfully behind.

The only thing that had ignited his interest was the knowledge that Childe was now in Liyue, presumably on the same mission as Signora. This did nothing to call him to any sort of action however. Instead it seemed to leave him more drained, more disgusted with the world around him.

When Signora came to visit she couldn’t believe the state the Harbinger was in. Since when had Scaramouche become so inattentive? It was unheard of. And more baffling was the Harbinger himself, who neither knew nor care of his transformation.

Now, unlike Scaramouche, Signora isn’t a total idiot. It took approximately two days of sticking close to the Harbinger to realize what was wrong. And really two days was being generous.

Later it would embarrass Scaramouche to recall the fact that he’d been told he was in love with you, rather than figuring it out himself. At the time however he had no such embarrassment.

He’d initially rejected it, almost appalled by the answer laid at his feet. Yet even as he narrowed his eyes and sharpened his voice his mind betrayed him.

Suddenly things had taken on a new significance, memories that had laid dormant now brought bare. Suddenly a smile wasn’t only a smile, and the trust in your loyalty was no longer a matter of simple reliance. Suddenly he couldn’t stop thinking of your eyes, and suddenly your voice was a prized memory. Suddenly he couldn’t stop his love for you.

Scaramouche had promptly declared that it didn’t matter. Staring at the ground, he felt cynicism wash over him. What did it matter now? What good was there in realizing his feelings when you were already gone? There was no point in labelling it, as love or otherwise. He might as well forget.

Love was a useless emotion anyways. Perhaps it was best that he’d lost his chance for it, perhaps he’d just managed not to become weak.

Signora was incredibly irritated at this line of thinking, and was quick to berate her listless coworker. Nor was she just content in lecturing.

And thus Scaramouche landed himself in the plains of Liyue, eyes lighting up as they fell once more upon your face, heart somehow feeling lighter.

He didn’t want to admit that he loved you, still begrudging himself an emotion that made people weak.

Yet he couldn’t help but reach for your hand when you came up to him, and he couldn’t help but soften a bit at the contact, at the thing he’d secretly wished for all those weeks.

He wouldn’t tell you his true motive for traveling to Liyue and Mondstadt, not wanting to reveal his shame. He would speak only of his mission, to chase down a traveler and rid the Tsaritsa of a nuisance.

Yet sometimes, when the light was low and the stars were rising, he allowed himself a moment of honesty. I trust you, he’d whisper in his mind. I trust you, I trust you, I trust only you.

Perhaps one day he’d been able to change that trust to love. And perhaps one day the whisper in his mind would become words that passed his lips.

[boymeetsweevil]

Call me maybe

Grouping: Reader x Namjoon

Word Count: ~6.59k

Warnings/Themes: Club meet-cute AU, 1% angst +99% suggestive fluff, (legal!) alcohol consumption, language, flirting anxiety(?)

Summary: It all started with a stupid drinking game...

A/N: this is the One Direction wattpad-style fanfic that's been haunting me for so long. beware of that and the fact that this is unedited hahaha...

“You know the rules, girls. Whoever wins this round of rock-paper-scissors is It.”

You and your three friends, warm and bubbly from 2 rounds of shots at this point in the evening, assume your battle stances and stick your hands into the center of your table. Four hands make a square over the scattered layer of empty decorative shot glasses from the bar in the club.

There’s an air of electric excitement that comes with this game, lovingly nicknamed Hunter-Gathering. Whoever is It gets a target and has to pursue that target in hopes of bringing ‘home’ free drinks for everyone the rest of the night. But no matter how attractive the target is, you can't ever bring them home.

“Wait, wait!” Lia chimes in. “I can’t be It this time. I did it twice already and my ass still hurts from the last time.”

Dani nods seriously. “Fair enough. That means the odds are upped for the rest of you.”

“So, we’re just gonna ignore that ass thing,” another friend, Alexa, looks around the table with confused eyes.

“Do you actually want me to give you the details?” Lia smiles slowly at her from across the table.

Alexa’s face brightens with her own smile, worry evaporated. “You know what? I don’t! Never mind.”

The game begins and somehow you find yourself the lone rock amongst two pairs of scissors. Alexa and Dani laugh with relief because they don’t have to put in any work tonight. You roll your eyes to the heavens and silently question your karma.

“Are you ready to pick your target?”

“I don’t really have a choice, do I?”

“Nope!” Dani grins.

She steps forward and grabs a clean face mask out of her clutch bag and wraps it around your eyes, careful not to muss your makeup or hair. Three pairs of hands rest on your shoulders and you let them spin you lightly around a few times. Not enough to get you dizzy but just enough to make sure you don’t know what direction you’re facing anymore.

“Alright,” Dani’s voice sounds out over the music of the club. “Take your pick!”

You stick your hand out blindly and someone unties the makeshift blindfold. Everyone follows the line your hand makes all the way to a tall figure standing by the side of the bar.

He’s probably the most handsome man any of you have seen in a while. There's an intimidating aura emanating from him. You figure it's the understated all-black outfit complete with the heinously expensive watch he's wearing and the sheer height of him as he towers over people near him at the bar.

“Oh my god,” Dani whispers as you all take in the stranger’s face.

“We can finally get top shelf vodka,” Alexa pretends to wipe a tear from the corner of her eye.

“Not bad,” Lia hums in appreciation.

“Okay, why is everyone acting like I bagged him already?” Your voice grows high with nerves. “I'm pretty sure I have, like, a 2% chance of interesting him."

“What are you so worried about?” Dani crosses her arms at you. “Just do whatever you did to get those history nerds to help you out that one time."

"This is not the same thing. Those guys parted their hair 90/10 unironically and thought Diva Cups are for when you don't want to hold your pee when you stand in line for roller coasters."

"You're kidding," Lia gasps. You wish you were.

"Well, just pretend he's one of them anyway." Dani suggests, "Every guy is the same."

You can't argue with that logic.

“I mean, I can try flirting with him, but he’s probably so used to people throwing themselves at him. I don’t think anything I do would, like, make a dent, you know?”

“Babe, no. No—listen to me, okay?” Alexa takes you by the shoulders and forces you around so you can see how serious she is.

“Tonight is the last free night of vacation. After tonight, we have less than a day to get over our hangovers, pack up the Airbnb, and then catch our 6am flight back home to start the spring term. Our last night of freedom lies in your hands.”

“But, what if—”

“No ‘but’s. Do you see yourself? Do you see your skin in this fresh white two piece? Have you seen how your tits look in this off the shoulder top? That poor man doesn’t stand a chance!”

Lia murmurs her agreement in the background and Dani mentions something about fearing for the guy's soul. You think about the freakishly good pictures you all took in the stylish club bathroom when you first arrived.

“I see your point.”

You turn back toward the bar to review your target. He sips from a dark green bottle as he looks around at the people on the dance floor between your table and the bar. As he continues to scan the room, he locks eyes with you. You hold his gaze even though your instincts are screaming at you to duck for cover. Surprisingly, he gives a small smile and raises his bottle in salute.

"See, you got the hardest part down already. Just fake the rest until you make it."

You chance a look back in his direction only to catch him staring in the direction of the table. When he catches your gaze again, he whips his head away, cheeks tinging pink under the soft yellow lighting at the bar.

Alexa cackles and starts detailing all the drinks she wants made with the top shelf vodka. Lia and Dani discuss leaving early to go back and clean up the apartment so it’s clean in case you break the rules and bring this guy back for the night.

“Uh, aren’t you guys moving a little fast?”

“Aren’t you moving a little slow,” Alexa counters.

“Hold on, Lex.” Dani turns to you. “You know you don’t actually have to do this if you don’t want to, right? Hunter-Gathering is just a game, there's no pressure.”

For all their poking and teasing, you're reminded right then and there that your friends would never put you in a situation where they thought you were actually at any risk. The weight you felt on your shoulders lightens somewhat.

“No, no, I definitely still want to play, I just don’t want you guys to get your hopes up.”

“I believe in you.”

Lia bumps shoulders with you quietly. She’s not the most affectionate, so you know she really means it.

“I’ll do my best.”

You let them tweak you a little bit, fixing stray hairs and wiping away smeared lip gloss and hiking up your skirt, giving you their drink orders, before you grab your purse and phone and push in your stool.

When you finally make it to the bar, he’s in the same spot as you first found him in. He spots you once you get close enough and naturally makes room for you. You set your bag on the bar countertop before hopping up on the empty stool immediately in front of him. The movement causes your skirt to ride up even more and you’re glad you only let Lia hike it up one inch instead of three.

Dani's advice about treating this guy like any other scrub from school reverbs in the back of your head right as the nerves start to set in. With the guys in your art history class, your grade was on the line. There was no room for hesitation when you could barely draw a stick figure, much less write an essay analyzing what an old painting style could tell you about the dairy economy in a certain town like some of your classmates were doing. It was because you were desperate that you were suddenly able to transform into a femme fatale. It also helped that these guys quivered at any interaction with an adult woman.

Tonight's drinks are on the line, you tell yourself. As best you can, you try to trick yourself into entering the same mindset you were in when you would lay on the charm extra thick for the art history guys.

You let the corner of your mouth lift up in a coy smile while you survey the bar. The bartender is moving back and forth quickly to handle the high demand. A second later the girl next to you leaves her spot with a tray of 8 bright pink drinks, practically glowing in the dark. You wonder briefly if you should try to get a round of those for the table.

“—one of those before?”

His voice is deep and pleasant. When you give him a look over your shoulder, you have to suppress a gasp. Up close he's even more handsome. You really have your work cut out for you.

“What?"

"That neon pink drink," he nods back in the direction of the girl who'd taken the cotton candy pink drinks with her. "I was wondering if you'd tried them before."

“No, I haven’t,” you smile, letting your lips part slowly. His eyes dart from your painted eyes to the colored stretch of your mouth and then quickly back up. “Have you?”

“No. But I like to try new things.”

You purse your lips as if in thought, something you've seen other girls do while flirting with guys at school. “You must be pretty unpredictable, then.”

“Huh? Well, I wouldn’t say that.” He stammers a bit and nearly drops his beer bottle trying and failing to put it down. All the intimidation you felt coming from him earlier seems to have disappeared.

“I was just kidding.”

Like it has a mind of its own, your hand reaches out to rest on his arm reassuringly while you continue to laugh at him. His features clear up then and a relieved smile blooms on his face, bringing out an adorable dimple with it.

“You’re teasing me,” he realizes with a good natured huff and steps into your touch.

“You seem kinda fun to tease.” You let your hand linger a little longer before finally pulling it back.

“It’s kinda fun. You're pretty good at it.”

Oddly enough, this isn't as difficult for you as you thought it was going to be. In fact, you find yourself naturally tilting your head and fixing him with an intrigued look from under your lashes. He takes the opportunity to look you over as well, a small smile on his lips.

The personal attention does make you a little nervous despite the fact that it’s positive. So you dig in your purse to avoid looking directly at him for too long and to give your hands something to do. You brush up against a tube of lip gloss, pull it out, and reapply some to your lips.

You look back at him when you realize he’s grown quiet, only to find him following the movements of the gloss brush tracing the curve of your lips, cheeks dusted pink and eyes half-closed like he's in some sort of trance.

Experimentally you press your lips together and then purse them to make sure the gloss is distributed evenly. The man doesn't blink once. Suddenly, all his expensive apparel and large stature aren’t so intimidating.

"Is there something on my face," you smirk.

He slow blinks down at your mouth twice before realizing you're speaking again. His eyes grow wide and he raises a ringed hand to rub at the back of his neck. The movement rustles the hair covering his ears, revealing their pink tips. Cute.

"Just looking."

You laugh a little at him again. He marvels at the way the club lighting dances around in your glossy smile.

"So, how come I've never seen you here before?"

"Well...it's the first time me and my friends have come here."

"I see." He pivots to face you and leans his closest elbow on the counter of the bar. "Are you guys new to the area?"

"You could say that, yeah."

He raises an eyebrow when you don’t elaborate. Without looking away, he raises his hand to signal to the bartender that he wants another drink. When the bartender runs right over, you realize this guy actually might be a big deal. Silently you pull your card out of your wallet as the bartender makes their way over. You figure you’ll have to spend some money before you can really ask someone like him to buy drinks for your table.

"What'll it be,” the bartender asks.

"Two of those pink drinks please," he says and before you can place any order the bartender zooms away.

While the bartender starts preparing the drinks, you turn toward him.

"Who said I wanted the pink drink?"

He grins down at you, a dimple now popping up in each cheek. "Who said it's for you?"

"I'm pretty sure it's for me."

"And what makes you so sure?" He takes a step closer to you.

"Just a hunch," you hum before crossing your legs.

The white fabric of your skirt hikes up your thighs again with the movement. You smooth your palms over the soft material.

"Nice skirt."

"Yeah? You like it?"

"I like it," he admits quietly.

"And the top?" You gesture toward the pair of straps on the matching tube top, manicured nails gliding over your décolletage. He wets his lips.

"The top too."

He reaches out one large hand to one of the straps that have fallen over your shoulder. The drag of his fingers against your bare arm as he fixes it makes you shiver. You lament the loss of contact when pulls his hand back.

The bartender arrives with your drinks then, startling the both of you out of the little staring competition that had spontaneously started. The pink drink seems to glow from within, topped with whipped cream and full of little round ice cubes made from some sort of darker rose syrup floating in the liquid like lava in a lava lamp. The color barely prepares you for the thick sweetness that floods your mouth on the first sip.

"Oh, that's kinda..."

He huffs a laugh around his own first swallow and nods in agreement.

"Not what you wanted?"

"It's just really sweet. You like it?”

He shrugs. “It’s alright. But—"

The way he cuts himself off has you confused for a moment before he's reaching towards you cautiously. You're not too sure what's going on until you feel the pad of his thumb swipe over the corner of your lips carrying away some of the whipped topping from the drink. Your eyes widen when instead of wiping the cream on one of the cocktail napkins available on the counter he brings his thumb to his own lips. In a fraction of a second the cream is gone, but you're left feeling a rush of fluttering warmth on the side of your mouth and in the center of your chest.

"You think your friends would like these?” He slides his drink to the side so he can lean on his elbow and turn to you again. Now's your chance.

“Um, I don’t think this is really their style.”

“What is their style?”

You rattle off their drinks of choice, making sure to mention their favorite brands with a sigh. Of course, whenever you play this game, the brands can change depending on the budget of whoever’s buying. This time, you make sure to name drop as much as possible, per Alexa's request.

“Sounds like your friends really know what they like.”

“Yeah, they have really…unique tastes.” You falter a little under his amused stare. “But we don’t always drink that way. I mean, not every bar even carries all those to begin with.”

“That’s true.” He nods. “This bar has every single of them, though. Pretty lucky, huh?”

“Yep,” you chirp. You’re not sure if you’re in trouble or not because he’s still smiling. He seems to be onto the game, but doesn’t seem bothered by it.

“Well, it would be a shame not to welcome you all to the city. Get whatever you want. My treat.”

“Are you sure?”

You place your hand on his arm again and squeeze for good measure. You don’t miss the way his large bicep flexes under your touch. After a beat, he brings his hand up to grasp yours and holds it while signaling to the bartender again. You give him a blindingly bright smile and he strokes his thumb over your knuckles.

He asks the bartender to ‘take care’ of your table tonight on him, and you realize then that you’ve won the game. The victory isn't nearly as sweet as the pink drinks from earlier. The rules prohibit you from bringing him home or going over to his place. And even if it wasn't prohibited, your vacation is basically over.

“Where are you and your friends from?

You take his hand between yours and play with some of the rings on his fingers. They’re beautiful together in an eclectic way and you wonder if someone chose them for him.

“It’s a kind of small city, not like this one. It’s really just our university and then a few surrounding towns.”

“What made you guys move here then?"

"Oh, Right." You feel guilty. "Me and my friends are just here for vacation."

He blinks at you but takes the news in stride. "Well, if you want—I know the city pretty well since I have a place here—maybe I can give you a tour of the town later this week."

"I'd love that, I really would. But we're actually leaving tomorrow."

"For real?” His eyes grow wide and he looks down at your linked hands before looking over your face. You're shocked to see his features fall.

"Yeah, it sucks."

“Damn,” he smiles bittersweet at the floor. “I wish we’d bumped into each other sooner.”

“I absolutely agree," the sound of Alexa's voice rings loud in your ear.

“Uh, hello. Did you need me for something?" Your voice is high and tight as you fix her with an accusatory stare. You're not 100% positive, but it seemed like you and he were having a moment.

"No, babe, I just wanted to come over and show you my beautiful drink. I wanted to come show my gratitude to you both for making sure we have a good last night. The girls will appreciate that. Thank you, kind sir."

“Name’s Namjoon. And no need to thank me,” he smiles at the exchange between you two and sticks out his hand. Alexa daintily lays her hand in his and he lets out an incredulous laugh before playing along and raising it to his lips.

"What a gentleman," she coos before pinching lightly at the skin of your exposed back. It's a clear message just for you, telling you that there's about to be a change in plans. "What were you guys discussing?"

"I was actually about to offer up our booth. There's more than enough room for your table if you wanted to move. Me and my team—friends definitely wouldn't mind the company."

“You don’t have to do that!” You pipe up, suddenly shy. But it's quickly dashed away as Alexa pulls out her phone and opens up the groupchat.

"Let me just ask our friends if they’d like that."

You already know the answer, so you sigh quietly and gather up your card, phone, and purse. You can’t say you won’t miss the privacy from when it was just you and Namjoon, but you’re glad to be with your friends again as well.

The move from your little table to the VIP booth is lightning fast. By the time you get your own drink, Lia and Dani are already clutching their things and vibrating with excitement near the ropes leading to the VIP booth. A few of Namjoon’s friends are chatting with them from the other side of the ropes.

Once your group trickles in, you don't miss how they all arrange themselves in the booth so you're forced to sit on the end next to Namjoon with barely any space. The only options are to let one of your legs hang off the edge of the booth the whole time or sit practically half in his lap. Alexa winks at you over the first sip of her next very expensive drink.

Namjoon's friends are occupied by your friends re-telling some of the more exciting parts of the beginning of your vacation. Some story about how 'someone' lost their top while trying to jet ski. You send a weak glare to Lia as she tries to get them to guess just whose top it was. That's what you get for experimenting with spaghetti strings, you suppose.

"Do you guys like to dance," one of his friends says after a while of vibing to the music once the chatter cools down. Hoseok, you think his name was.

"Yes, definitely." Dani remarks while re-applying lip gloss. "You know who's a great dancer?"

"Who?" Hoseok looks around excitedly.

"She's gonna say me," you groan. "Which is not even true but let’s just all move down there already, no more 20 questions."

"Just one more," she pouts. "Namjoon, do you like to dance?"

He looks down at you once he's also out the booth, that little amused smile back on his lips.

"Well, it's not really part of my day job, but I don't mind it too much."

"What's your day job," you blurt out.

"I'm a...musician."

"A musician!" Alexa rushes over to you to link arms. "Did you hear that? Namjoon’s a musician."

"I don't recognize you," Lia says and Hoseok and another one of his friends burst into quiet laughter behind her.

"You definitely won't find Joon’s pics anywhere, that's for sure," one of his friends says. The rest of them dissolve into another fit of giggles.

The club lights hide the muted pink tinge his cheeks take on, and Namjoon leads the way to the dance-floor with a chagrined roll of his eyes.

"You think he's really a musician?” You whisper to Alexa and Lia. Dani is somewhere up ahead, already dancing.

"Maybe technically. Going off the way his friends keep laughing, he's probably, like, a failed SoundCloud rapper or something."

"No failed SoundCloud rapper wears Gucci like that," Lia motions with her chin to some piece of Namjoon’s outfit.

"That's true," you hum.

"Rich parents," Alexa says simply.

You and Lia consider it and then nod.

As you settle on the dance floor, you feel the rest of your nerves drift away. Lia comes over to take a selfie with you, and the two of you flirt with the camera until she's satisfied with the photos you've taken. She grabs your hand and makes a show of spinning you around and you figure that this is how the night will go before you stumble out around 2 or 3am and drunk pack for the flight home the next morning. You let her lead you back, further into the crowd before you bump into someone.

Namjoon's large hand comes to stabilize you at your waist and Lia acts like nothing happened before dancing away, phone light illuminating her sneaky smile.

"You good?" Namjoon's voice is soft in your ear.

"Y-yeah."

"You wanna dance, or should I let you go?"

Your friends shamelessly all look at the way he curves himself around you, all with their thumbs up in encouragement. You're reminded of the way you did the same a few nights prior when Dani was getting hit on by some cute guy at a different club.

At that time it felt fun hyping her up and watching her make a move, seeing how enamored this random guy was with your friend. Of course he is, you thought at the time, she's amazing. And you remember that this is probably what's driving them tonight as well with you and Namjoon.

You chance a look at him and realize that he's come to rest his cheek lightly near your temple, a soft look in his gaze as he awaits your answer.

"Sure, let's dance."

Namjoon was telling the truth when he said he wasn't all that into dancing. But he put in enough work to be able to follow you and meet you halfway while you were grinding on him to the music.

Even when you shyly stepped away after the first few dances to return to your squealing friends, you loosened up over time with more music and drinks and found yourself naturally ending up on him again. The first few songs turned into more and more and soon you were face-to-face, with his thigh wedged between yours and a heavy palm on your lower back guiding you to the beat.

You're not sure when you decided to abandon your friends and his, but at some point you did return to the booth under the guise of checking your phones. And you did check your phone first. But soon he was crowding you toward the wall by the booth and leaving you with no air of your own.

"You're really leaving tomorrow," he sighed into a bruise he was trying to leave near the hollow of your throat. "Or did you just say that because I was some creep at a bar."

"I never thought you were a creep."

He looks down at you with disbelief before getting distracted by your kiss-swollen lips.

"I mean it. I'm just a little shy sometimes."

"What do you have to be shy about when you look like this, huh?"

"Stop," you laugh lightly and look away from him.

He'd made a comment earlier about how much he liked the pristine white two piece you wore, but you'd been inching his hand up your skirt then. Now, one of his thumbs rubs an idle pattern just below the curve of your breast.

"No, but seriously. Are you actually leaving tomorrow?"

"Yeah. The new term starts for us all in a few days."

"So, leave in a few days," Namjoon whines.

"That's not enough time to get ready for the term."

"But I'll be so alone without you."

He gives you an exaggerated pout that splits into a real smile when you snort at his stupid expression. He pulls you to him just a smidgen tighter then.

"Does this usually work with other girls?"

"I don't know. Never tried it with other girls," he frowns a little at you.

"Sure."

"You know me and the team almost went to Club BigHit last Saturday?"

"Oh, really? That's kinda funny." You try to imagine what might have happened if he'd come to the same club you went to earlier.

"Yeah," Namjoon's voice grows quiet. "If I hadn't gotten sick then we would have met last week."

"Yeah, maybe."

"You sure you can't miss a few days of the term?"

"Yes, I'm sure." You let out an exasperated laugh. "You can't really be this upset that an actual stranger is just passing through your life."

"No, I know. I just—," he lets his head fall forward until he's touching his forehead to yours. "It was like something clicked when I saw you. I feel like I need more time with you."

"Oh," your voice comes out a little breathier than you expected.

The same look that had flashed across his face when you first came up to him finally gets to rest on his features. You want to let him down gently because you really can't play catch up during the first week of school.

"Tell you what. I can't miss the beginning of the term but if you make a song with my name in it and it gets...say, 50,000 listens, I'll buy a ticket that same day and come meet you. Wherever you are."

He pins you with a look then, inquisitive and dark. His eyes scan your open expression for something, before whatever he finds passes the test. He stands up tall.

"And it just needs to have 50,000 listens?"

In your mind you were thinking it would be too lofty for a failed SoundCloud rapper, but something in his tone sounds like he's rising to the challenge and it makes you nervous. You spent a lot on this vacation, you can't afford to actually fly out so soon if he somehow managed to get the listens and call your bluff. Besides, targets are off limits.

"Um, actually make that 150,000. And it has to have my area code in it too." You rattle off the three digits to him and he quickly types your conditions into the notes app on his phone.

"Is that it?"

"That's it, I guess."

"Deal."

Namjoon pockets his phone and leans back into your space. Any worries you had clawing to the forefront of your mind vanish when he presses soft lips to yours once more.

A month passes.

You don't end up having a one-night-stand with Namjoon because it wouldn't be fair to your friends when they'd clicked with a target but didn't take them home. That and because Dani got sick on the dance floor from mixing strawberry daiquiri with one too many pink drinks. But you do pass on your full number after he very nearly begs you to give it to him while packing into a cab.

And then he never used it.

It's not that you were expecting much, but when a month passes with not so much as word from him, you figure he forgot about you and your little bet.

Then 2 months pass.

Even though you know that you only spent a fraction of a day with him, you can't help thinking about Namjoon. Namjoon and his pretty eyes and pretty words that made you think there was some sort of connection there. You realize after the first two weeks back that you don't have his number but by the time 2 months pass, you realize that was definitely on purpose.

4 months pass.

You're over it, swamped with end of term work like finals and grading and putting in hours at work. But every time your friends suggest a little fun and hooking you up with someone, every time someone asked for your number at a coffee shop, you said no. Because you're over it and you're busy and not at all disappointed for how hard you fell for the lies some failed SoundCloud rapper fed you on a vacation one time.

19 weeks pass.

You're all in Lia's apartment, basking in the first few days of the end of classes even if it means finals are a few days later. Alexa is playing her favorite playlist on the speakers and you're taking a break to get some coffee going in the small kitchenette.

While the coffee machine starts up you wander back to the main room. Alexa is leaning over to turn the music up, one of her favorite songs just now coming up.

"Who's this again," Dani pipes up from her spot on the couch. "It's that one guy's collab with the Bulletproof Girlscouts, right?"

"Yep," Alexa checks the song title before sighing. "This song is so old now."

"True, but it's my favorite one on the whole album."

"I guess it really has been two years since his last album, huh." Dani muses and then goes back to her practice problem set.

You try not to laugh at how cute Alexa looks sulking because her favorite artist hasn't put out any music in so long.

"Why don't you just play his new stuff," Lia says.

"He's on indefinite hiatus. This is as new as it gets."

Lia picks up her own phone, showing it to the group.

"He released a new single this morning."

"What!"

Alexa scrambles from her seat to grab her headphones and jam them into her phone. You all know how she gets about her music and let her have a moment to soak up the new song while you get up to check on the coffee.

It takes a few minutes to get cups out and put everything together since everyone has different tastes, so you're in the middle of pouring creamer when you hear a chorus of screams.

"Why are we screaming?"

You rush into the main room again only to be bombarded with music from the speaker, this time turned up as high as it can go. What must be the new song comes through the speaker, the bass vibrating on the ground as the speaker pumps.

"Okay, yes, new song. It's good but I don't get—"

"Just listen to the fucking bridge," Dani's voice comes out incredibly shrill as she cuts you off.

The beat surges for the bridge and suddenly the lyrics turn into the artist growling about some girl he met at the club with the prettiest little white outfit he'd ever seen. Saying something that sounds oddly like your name, although you figure that can't be right. But then the next verse has your name in it too, and the next one, and the next one.

Your feet take you to where Alexa's phone is plugged in and you pick up the phone to look at the song. It's indeed a song by her favorite artist, a prolific and mysterious rapper who's never shown his face and who'd been on hiatus from making music. The song title is simple, a small string of numbers that look suspiciously like your area code.

When you let out a tiny gasp, your friends let out more excited shrieks. You ignore them in favor of thumbing through the music app to the artist's page where the new single lies at the top of his discography. To the right of all his songs are the stream counts. Most of his older songs have a few dozen million or so. This brand new one sits at a modest 4 million, but the numbers trickle up as the app updates them in real time.

"What the hell?"

"I know!" Alexa cries, tears shining in her eyes. "I can't believe we sat in a VIP booth with him and I didn't even recognize his stupid voice!"

"What are you gonna do," Dani smiles widely at your stunned face. "Are you gonna call him?"

"I don't have his number," you say simply. Your voice comes out monotone with shock.

"You didn't get his number?" Alexa starts crying for real.

"People are blowing my phone up about this," Lia says once the song ends and begins again on a loop. "You might want to turn off your phone. It's just a matter of time until people start snooping around."

"Right."

You grab your phone from your pocket. On instinct you scan through your socials one last time before turning it off. There's a startling number of texts, calls, emails, and notifications on your social media apps. Curiosity gets the best of you and you open up one of them only to find your name trending as the top hashtag. Clicking on it brings up a bunch of tweets both from fans raving about the new song and wondering who the muse is, to random accounts with identical names in the handle all claiming to be said muse.

"Oh my god, he tweeted!" Dani shoves her phone into your hands.

As of right now [2:38pm] we're at 5.76 million streams. That's more than 150,000...

"What does that mean," she asks you.

"It means...he wants me to fly out to see him. Today."

"Oh my god."

Alexa screams again and at this point you've lost count of how many that is. Lia gets out of her chair and tucks her chin over your shoulder to read the post herself.

"You need to go," Alexa shouts. "I'll help you pack, let's go."

"What about finals?"

"Are you—are you actually thinking of not going because of finals?"

"I mean—"

"If you want me die, just say that," she does something with her mouth that looks like a manic smile.

"What Lex means to say is that this is a once in a lifetime opportunity and I'm sure even the profs would understand."

You're not sure what to say. First of all, you still don't have his number. Second of all, you're not sure how to fight through all the other accounts claiming to be you to let him know you saw the song. Third, you don't even know where to fly to. Fourth—

A Twitter notification chimes from your phone and a deadly hush falls over everyone. You go to your DM inbox with shaking fingers only to find a message request from an unknown sender. When you open the request, it's from Namjoon's agency.

Good afternoon,

You are being contacted today because one of our artists wishes to meet you. If you consent to the meeting, please review the flight information and tentative itinerary below and respond with your address and contact information. Please also note that the travel plans are for today [MM/DD/YYYY], so your response at your earliest convenience would be much appreciated. If you would like to go but cannot make it today—

"Do you think they'll send a car or should I book her a ride to the airport now?" Dani turns to Alexa.

"They'll probably send one to make sure the schedule is followed."

"That's true but what about—"

Lia taps you on the shoulder, startling you out of your stupor.

"There's a convenience store two doors down. Whatever you buy we can put in one of my suitcases and you can just take that. There's probably not enough time to go all the way back to your place."

"I—yeah, okay."

7 hours later finds Alexa, Dani and Lia finished with studying for the night. The entertainment channel is playing on the TV and the three of them have their heads bent over their phones and laptops, refreshing all the major gossip sites for updates.

"Maybe she's not even there yet," Dani sighs when the page she just refreshed shows no new posts.

"Yeah, I mean we still don't even know where she is," Lia says while putting her laptop to sleep. "What if they made her sign an NDA?"

"Even if they did, she'd probably still tell us once she got there. She's probably just busy killing time on the plane."

"She's sleeping!" Alexa screams a second later.

"Huh? How do you know that?"

"Check his instagram," is all she says before frantically typing a message to you about souvenirs.

Lia looks over at Dani's phone as she pulls up Namjoon's page. The rest of the layout is bare given his up until recent hiatus and the fact that he never posted any type of selfie. The video uploaded a mere 20 seconds ago undoes all the previous minimalism of the entire account.

The post isn't even of Namjoon. It's a black and white 5 second video of the top half of your naked back and shoulders, the rest of your body covered by the sheets. One of your arms is raised to cover your head with a pillow. The only sign of Namjoon is the arm that reaches out from the bottom of the frame, making it clear that he took the video himself. His hand reaches out to trace a heart over the skin of your shoulder blade. The caption reads:

Thanks for keeping your promise

[onyxheartbeat]

Dear HIM/Ville Valo fans,

this is a long post but I must discuss this.

________

I came across this interview of Kat Von D from a few days ago. Before I get into my thoughts, below is a passage from her old book “Go Big or Go Home” which you may or may not have read. She wrote about Ville:

________

“I only knew his music, and I loved it on first listen. It was dark and it was beautiful. It was metal and it was poetry. It was love loaded into a gun, and I wondered about the man behind the songs.  Two years later, our paths crossed, and like the majority of the connections I’ve made in life, tattooing brought us together. Through our first tattoo sessions, we began to get to know each other. For the next few years, I just thought of him as my friend from overseas, and that was all. Then, after knowing him for six years, something changed. It could have been the wine, the music, or the moon. Most likely it was just perfect timing. Just one kiss, and he changed my world. We were both sad back then, and lost. I was depressed, having finally ended a marriage that had been doomed from the beginning. I was also dealing with the pressures of filming a television show, which was totally new to me - and drinking my way blindly through it all. His story mirrored mine, and he had been feeling just as low. We had been waiting for something to happen, for someone or something to come along and save us from ourselves. And when it suddenly seemed that that someone was each other, it took us both by surprise. We shared darkness, and doing that bought light back into our somber worlds: for once, we didn’t feel alone.He’s the reason why I wanted to write music to begin with - and learn to sing. I remember the exact moment I made up my mind about making music. It was something I felt I needed to do, not for any reason other than a way to respond to him. It didn’t matter if the songs I’d write never saw the light of day, as long as he was able to listen to my music, my message to him. He had told me to look for a package at my door step, prefacing the delivery of the contents, his new album, saying, “These are all of the things that are easier sung than said.”I knew what he meant, but never imagined that each song would be filled with direct messages to me. I put the album on, and the music rushed out of the speakers and filled my house. His voice rang all around, making it’s way to the core of my heart with every word he sang. As cryptic as those lyrics may have been for anyone else, I knew exactly what each word meant and recognized every event and place he referred to. The songs were so beautiful, I just wished so badly that he could have said everything out loud just once to me. How should I respond to something like this? Where do I even start?The first time I saw him after I got sober, he was in town working on music. We sat in my office at the shop until the late hours of the night, talking and catching up about everything - music, home, art and work. Did we talk about love? No. We constantly danced around our past instead. What happened to us? I couldn’t find the courage to ask because I was scared of the answer I already knew. We decided to draw, with pencils and paper in front of us, we sat at opposite ends of the table. He pulled my three-minute timer from one of the nearby shelves, and placed it at the center of the table. He suggested we draw each other, and I was game. With a flip of the hourglass, the grains of sand moved from one vessel to the other, and we began.Sketching these timed portraits forced us to stare at each other, making it practically impossible to focus on the drawing itself. I had almost forgotten how beautiful his face was. He has a combination of eyes, lips, and a darkness to his looks that makes him look almost otherworldly. With him, I felt like I was at the center of an orderly, tranquil, magnificent universe. For those short three minutes, there were no questions about life or purpose. It was as if we never needed any more from each other than this.Like all people, I’ve suffered from love sickness and tasted the pain of love. The theatrical director of my mind, the one who staged all these versions of him and my life with him, seemed to be unaffected by reason. I was finding myself constantly day dreaming of the past.His eyes, his hands, his crooked smile - I’d ruminate over his features. Things he said. Things he did. Things he wrote. Things he drew. Things he sang. Over and over again, I’d sift through these images and memories as if they somehow contained the answer to my prayers. But I was living with a long-age memory of him; living so far away from the present moment.If we had spoken about what we were or what we thought we were, back when we got sober, I wouldn’t have been so confused, wandering what if, and writing the rest of our story in my mind. What did I expect? For him to magically not hear about me being in a relationship? And to not be bothered by it? If only he would have asked….. I would have….. If we could have only talked….. then things would be….. if we allowed ourselves to transform our fears of being open, vulnerable, then, I’d convince myself, we would be together. I realized that none of that mattered now. If I wanted to be free of this unrequited longing, I would have to make peace with the past and finally let it go. There was no way around it. But did I want to be free of it? - and him?I listened to one of his songs the other day. Out of all the songs he wrote on that album, this one was the most direct. He sings my name in the chorus. By the time the song is over, I’ve felt a range of emotions - I’m sad but happy, frustrated but calm. He sings about how I alone bring him to a place of stillness and peace within when we are together. What a victorious feeling - to enter into a place with him where no one else has been. To be able to bring goodness to and draw it out of someone. Those sweet thoughts were interrupted by  an e-mail from him. Impeccable timing as always. It’s just a short note, letting me now he’s somewhere out there, thinking of me. He ends the message by calling me “Star Face” - his pet name for me from long ago that no one else uses. At that moment, I loathe him for it. I loathe him because I love him. Sometimes it feels like it would be so much easier to walk away from this if he’d just tell me that he hates me, that he wants nothing to do with me. But instead he calls me “Star Face.” There is no way he doesn’t know what he’s doing. He’s not letting go, either.‘Ultimately, it is the desire, not the desired, that we love.’The silver plane hurtled over Newfoundland, over the Labrador sea. Someone told me I might see the northern lights as I fly east and north, but I wouldn’t have noticed as I was deep in writing the letter that I had already mentally composed long before I decided to make this trip to see him over New Year’s Day. I didn’t have to edit myself this time, I knew exactly what the letter would say.I reread the note to myself before sealing the envelope. Then I drew out the first letter of his name in pencil on the front. What a beautiful letter it was, probably my favorite out of the entire alphabet. A letter I was so used to writing myself. With ease the swirls and curves of each arch seemed to flow from my heart, my mind’s eye, drawn in and through my arms to my hands, releasing themselves onto the pale ivory paper envelope. My plane landed soon after.I had missed this country, I had missed him, too. I wondered how time had treated him ,for it had been a few years since I had last seen him. I wondered if I still had the ability to quiet his heart when he was feeling manic. He always said I had a way of doing that when I was near. And I wondered if he even needed me in that way anymore.When we met up, he looked just as beautiful as the day we saw each other for the first time, almost ten years before. And as if no time had passed, we started right where we left off - hours flew by in the comfort of each other’s presence. Talking. Catching up.He asked if I was getting sleepy, and my attempt at concealing the tiredness was transparent. I looked at the clock; maybe it was the jet lag or the clock hands pointing to midnight, but I knew it was time to say good-bye. Reluctantly, we both stood up and tried our best to part ways. As good as it felt to be near him again, I gave him the letter I had written letting him know that I was letting the nation of us go. He took the sealed envelope, and then I watched him walk away for what I assumed would be the last time.My heart didn’t belong locked up in a tower across the ocean from my home. It belonged in my chest, beating, living, feeling, sometimes hurting, but always loving. I deserved to be free, and understanding and needing that more than a dream, I was finally able to let him go.”

_________

Now, let me start by saying, I’ve never understood this and I still don’t. I’ve had that passage saved in my drafts for years because I keep almost anything pertaining to Ville. 

I’ve been a HIM fan since I was about 15 years old, and have followed Ville’s life and work closely. The friendship between them was always apparent to HIM fans in those days, because we saw her in photos with the band often. I used to watch Miami Ink and LA Ink as regularly as pretty much anyone in those days, and I remember when this particular passage of her book was brought to light, the HIM fan base read it and we all had our thoughts. We were all aware of Screamworks being written about Kat (it’s obvious in the lyrics of the album) even though Ville never specifically said Kat’s name when asked about it in interviews.

I remember being baffled back when we as HIM fans discovered this passage from the book. I couldn’t imagine not making that relationship work if it was true love. I’m a bit biased because I adore Ville and he’s like a dream to me, but I just couldn’t understand it. It seemed like she took the relationship for granted or she didn’t love him enough to make it work; but I digress. I get it; love and relationships are complex.

Still, flash forward to this recent interview (the screenshot), she says it was unrequited love, and I’m still not understanding it. Why release all the songs now? Why didn’t she make it work if it was true love? Who is she trying to say was the one not reciprocating (as the word “unrequited” suggests) in the relationship? I don’t understand any of it. More than anything, I’ve had so many questions that I wish I could ask Ville about it all because he only spoke briefly about it all, and it was always rather cryptic. 

I’m only writing this as a HIM fan, and because I love Ville and his lyrics on Screamworks so, so much (it’s an extremely underrated album in the HIM discography, in my opinion) so I’m letting any fellow HIM lovers know she wrote an album in response to it, in case you’re interested. I haven’t followed Kat or her work in many years, so I don’t know what to make of all this, but it’s always been extremely apparent to me when listening to Screamworks that a lot of heart went into it and even pain, not that his lyrics on other albums aren’t like that too, but I felt it more on Screamworks. I feel that Ville was the one who was truly heartbroken.

You all probably know from following my blog that I’m obsessed with love and unrequited love. Any romantic stories, bittersweet letters, heartbreak, longing etc. is just my favorite thing in the world so please excuse the long post, haha.

[weebwrites]

What It Takes (Meizou x Reader) (Ximen x Reader)

Fandom: Meteor Garden / Boys Over Flowers Warnings: Unrequited love, Love Triangle, Happy Ending, Sad Ending Words: 2k217 Requested By: No One Synopsis: Meizou can’t help but wonder what it will take for his fiancé to love him instead.

Note to Self- Don’t fall In Love First

Mei Zou had been ecstatic when he first heard of the arranged business merger between his family and the Y/L/N group. Since the moment his mother brought the idea to him, he was shaking with excitement. He had always been worries of his parents plan for his future- maybe that’s why he tried to have as much fun as possible in his youth.

Mei Zou told no one about the engagement plans, but, of course, Y/n noticed. She called him out the first time she saw him since he was told the news. It never stopped shocking him; she was the most observant person Mei Zou had ever met. 

The group of five were lounging in the bridge room, and the second Y/n looked up from her music composition book she asked Meizou what made him so excited. He was quick to re-gain his composure and call it a secret- saying she’ll find out soon enough. 

The other three people in the club room looked over at the both of them. Ah Si rolled his eyes, making some remark of how freaky it was- that she knew them so well. 

Ximen walked over to her and put his hand gingerly on Y/n’s head, “I think it’s cute how her gaming strategy bleeds into her personality.” He moved his hand to her jaw so they were looking at each other, sharing a smile. 

Lei nodded, “It’s nice to have someone you can have a silent conversation with.”

Meizou kept his eyes on the pair in front of him, his hands balling at his sides, morphing into pale chords of muscles as he clenched the chair’s fabric. Y/n had looked back at her book, making progress on the song she was composing. 

He watched as her hair fell from behind her ears, obscuring his view of the girl. He noticed the signs of her becoming increasing frustrated. Just as he was about to move over, Y/n had called out to Lei. 

“I’m trying to convert my song from guitar to piano, but I’m not sure how to compensate for the fret change during the bridge. What chord do you think will work here?” She made eye-contact with the soft boy.

Before looking at where she was referring to, Hua Ze Lei gently brushed the hair from her face before answering her question. 

If only we were together already, Mei Zou thought, then I could stop them from looking at her like that. It was hard on the boy to see Y/n interact with other guys on a daily basis. He’s loved her since they were children, but he had no clue what the future held. So, for now, he bit his tongue. It would be so much easier if she loved me already. 

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

Note To Self- Don’t wait too long

He was many things- an artist, a bridge player, a loyal friend, a play boy, a hopeless romantic, the list goes on- but Mei Zou is not an idiot. 

He recognized the signs- falling in love was most visible from the outside. It started small, he would walk beside her in the halls. Then he would be the first to her classes, then he started to drive her home, until he’d take her out before reaching her house. It had started small, the love between an angel and a broken man. 

Meizou wasn’t an idiot. He knew Ximen was cautious with love, to the point of thinking he might never get married. It was a shock when he realized his friend was actually in love.

When Meizou first noticed his friend’s lingering glances and moment longer hands on her waist, he cornered him in the hallway. He had pushed Ximen against the lockers, grabbing his collar. Meizou scolded him, warned him that Y/n wasn’t like the girls he toys with, she’s more than them. He warned him about messing with their Y/n, the only female member of F5; Meizou gently reminded him that it wasn’t just himself Ximen would have to worry about, Ah Si and Lei cherished their princess, and they’d do anything to protect her.

Ximen shoved his friend off of him, aggressively declaring his love for her. “I love her, Meizou,” he whispered after. “I can’t stop- it’s like she’s the only thing in my life- every girl I see is just a person who isn’t her, every breath I take is one I wish was with her; she’s in every thought I have and my hand feels empty without hers’ in it. I don’t know how but I love her. I love her.”

To say he was shocked would be an understatement. Meizou guided Ximen back to their club room to keep away from peering eyes. They sat and drank the scotch the room was stocked with. Even as Ah Si came and went, Ximen hadn’t said a word since the hallway. Nothing fell from his lips since he whispered his love for their bestfriend. Meizou had never seen Ximen so vulnerable before, so delicate; if he told his friend about the engagement plans Meizou feared he would shatter like a porcelain heart, so he waited.

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

Note To Self- Decide Your Priorities Early On

Having the plans be a secret wasn’t difficult. Meizou wasn’t told anything since the reveal, so it’s not like he was keeping anything other than that from hs friends. No, having it be a secret wasn’t what was difficult- but keeping it a secret was the most painful experience ever. 

Meizou watched their love story from the side lines- seeing the stages of their relationship was like watching acts of a play in a theater he couldn’t leave. He was the understudy of a lead who never got sick. Still, Meizou waited. He waited for Ximen to mess up, to freak out. It was messed up- something he never thought he would stoop low enough to do- yet every time Y/n gushed about her plans Meizou silently prayed his friend wouldn’t show up.

He prayed Ximen would forget, he prayed Ximen would make a mistake- just once. He wished he would say the wrong thing- offend her by accident; he prayed on every lucky star that Ximen would hurt her- just once.

Yet with every ill-intended wish it was like their love grew stronger. Ximen had given up his go-to dating plans the moment Y/n agreed to go out with him. Long gone were the roses and strawberry scented cards, no more was the heart on the side of the building. Y/n wasn’t like that. 

Instead they would go to a second hand book store and find a book that had been lived in- one with dog-eared pages and cracked spines. With their books in hand they would to go a cafe, they’d order two drinks (A hot tea of differing flavors and a Spiced Chai Latte) and a piece of cake. Occasionally looking up to smile at their partners, they lived through the books. Smudged highlights of their favorite quotes, smushed rants in the margins when the plot got heated, tears softening the pages which hurt their hearts; the two poured their souls into the pages, and then they gave part of themselves to the other. 

They’d go their separate ways and read the books their partners had chosen for them, laughing when they read a funny note the other had left, calling in tears when everything goes wrong, they annotated the novels. The books would be swapped back and forth, each time read from a new perspective until each page was filled with reminders of love, silly rants, or just mementos of their time together. The book became more ink and highlighter than paper, and it’s meaning had transformed. This was what they were as a couple, something that never seemed to be breakable. Something endless.

Ah Si was spectacle at first, hesitant to expose Y/n to his playboy turned romantic friend. He had always thought Y/n would end up with Lei- but he gave Ximen a chance, and he waited. He waited for Y/n to show up at his door step in tears, he waited to kill Ximen for making her cry. He waited and he waited and the day never came. 

Instead, Y/n cried over how sweet he was. Instead she told him how well he treated her, how Ximen made her feel so special. She called Ah Si late at night not heartbroken, but reduced to giggles and squeals after a perfect date. Never came the day Ah Si would comfort a heartbroken Y/n, and he had never been happier for her. 

Lei was the first to know of Y/n’s long-lasting crush on his friend. He was surprised- back when she told him at the age of twelve. But since then he expected the calls of how he was perfect, how he’d never see her as a girl. He knew Y/n’s feelings inside out, and he was worried when she told him that Ximen had taken her out on a date. He waited for Ximen to get bored, for Y/n’s perfection to not be enough for him. Lei watched silently as the pair spent every second together, watched with careful eyes as they fell hard. 

After his worries for her well being subsided, Lei waited for Y/n to fade from his life. As it was, Y/n called him every day and texted him throughout it. He waited for the calls to stop, for her texts to become once a day with simple meanings. He waited patiently to be along on the rooftop with only the memories of his bestfriend to keep him company. He waited and waited and waited, staring at the phone or the rooftop entrance. Days, weeks, a month, two, yet the phone always rang, and the door always opened. Lei realized Y/n wouldn’t be abandoning his relationship with her for someone else. Maybe it was because he chose love and abandoned his friends when he did- maybe that's why he tried to prepare himself for Y/n’s departure from his life- waiting for her to disappear. But the day never came, and Lei stopped waiting.

Ximen was terrified every day. He was anxious as he drove to her house, wondering when he would freak out. He was scared when he looked down and saw Y/n holding onto his arm, wondering when he would push her off. He clenched his hand tight as he watched her dance through the streets of Shanghi, wondering when he would ruin his one shot at happiness. 

Every date his heart was beating out of his chest, every stolen glance felt like the last. Every smile thrown his way was a wakeup call- every time her voice reached his ears it cut through the fog of self doubt and misery which swallowed him whole- she was his savior. His angel that managed to save him every time, the only life raft on the sinking boat; she was the only good thing left in the world that fought to bruise his ego and tie him to a hundred pound weight of misery. She was the softest blanket, she was the best alarm. She was everything. His hand unclenched. He calmed down.

Meizou should have known this would happen. He decided then, seeing her beautiful smile, that her happiness is all that mattered. 

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

Note To Self- Sometimes Things Don’t Work Out, Sometimes That’s Okay

When Meizhou told his parents he wouldn’t go through with the wedding they were furious. When he broke down in tears they had no clue what to do with themselves. 

“She’s in love with someone else,”

They comforted him as best as absentee parents could, patting his head awkwardly with empty words. They offered to go through with it anyway, have her fall in love with him after they’re married.

Meizhou refused- he didn’t want to. 

Instead, Meizhou stood at the altar, watching as Y/n approached. She was beautiful. Her dress dragged behind her and her eyes watered with tears- she was gorgeous. 

Lei and Daoming Si stood across the isle, beside Y/n as she took her rightful spot. She stared into the eyes of her beloved and, for once, it wasn’t jealousy that prickled under his skin. It was sorrow- deep and painful morning for the death of his future. His beloved would never be his, his beloved was someone else. He cried.

Y/n had never felt better. Her mother had been apprehensive about giving her consent, saying she hadn’t expected Ximen to be the one she fell in love with. Y/n wasn’t sure what she meant, but her mom dressed her to the nines and did her makeup personally. 

And now here she was, standing in front of the man she’d gladly spend every moment of her life with.

“How did I get so lucky,” she whispered, as Lei handed her Ximens ring and Meizhou handed him the other.

“No love-” Ximens eyes swirled with love and adoration, “how did I get so lucky?”

The room erupted into cheers, applause, the occasional scream or encouragement as they kissed. The world faded around them and the only thing that mattered was each other.

Meizhou waved them off as they climbed into the limo towards their honeymoon. 

[ur-favorite-queer-queen]

Second Chance

For Maribat March day 12 theme second chance

Master List

Sometimes Marinette really wished Penny and Jagged hadn’t adopted her. It’s not that she didn’t want to be a Rolling-Stone, no that wasn’t it. In fact, she was grateful that they had saved her from the horrors that Paris now held for her. It’s just they dragged her to stuff like this, some rich man’s gala. 

She had slept for a full 12 hours after finishing Penny’s dress, only to wake up to the news she was coming with them. She probably should’ve seen it coming. Although she was hoping this would be one of the lucky cases where she didn’t have to go. Despite her protests they insisted she needed to interact with other humans who weren’t serving her coffee. In Jagged’s words, “Who knows, you might make a rock n roll friend!” 

Now here she was, in her black and purple dress that matched Penny’s and Jagged’s outfits. Letting a bit of her anxiety out as she fiddled with the strap of her matching purse. Watching her parents mingle with the rich folk while she stood off to the side. Every once in a while they would cast her a ‘go make a friend’ look but it never bothered her, she just needed to wait until they stopped turning to look back at her.  

After about 10 minutes they stopped, perfect. She casually asked a waiter where the bathroom was and made her way there. Once inside she slipped off the pearl anklet that was Daizzi’s miraculous, letting the kwami make her way into her purse, before pulling out a familiar nose ring. Now that Jagged and Penny were letting her do her own thing, she could go back to scaring people into not socializing with her. While she would’ve loved to keep Daizzi’s miraculous on so that it could combat Stompp’s miraculous side effects, she learned that it took too much energy to do so. And she didn’t want to explain why she was so tired after the gala if she wasn’t talking to anyone. 

She schooled her features before making her way back out sending a cold look to anyone who tried to come up to her. She pulled out her phone only to see that 2 hours had passed, she still had 4 more to go. Time was moving much too slowly for her liking. 

A clearing of the throat brought her out of her thoughts. She rolled her eyes, putting her phone back in her purse, getting ready to glare at the person who was going to try to talk to her, only to stare in shock at the green eyes that were watching her. The same ones that had bumped into her just days before. The same ones she had sworn she probably wouldn’t ever see again. 

Her mouth moved without her permission, again she blames Stompp, “You.” 

He smiled or maybe it was a smirk, responding with way too much amusement, “Me.” 

She once again schooled her features to look bored, but she’s pretty sure her eyes gave her away with the way he reacted, “What are you doing here?” 

Just like before it took him a moment to reply, his smirk growing just the tiniest bit, “I’m always invited to these things, I’ve never seen you before though.” 

“With any luck this will be the last time you see me.” She remarked. She didn’t mean to be so rude again she blames Stompp but she really hadn’t expected to see him. To his credit he didn’t seem deterred by her cold vibe, if anything he seemed more determined. 

“Why would you say that?” 

“These types of things,” She waved her hand around, motioning to the room, “Just aren’t my thing. My parents make it look so easy, but I’ve never been one for this kind of scene. Plus I leave Gotham in a few days.” 

“Desperate to get out here?” 

“You could say that.” 

“Who are your parents?” 

She raised an eyebrow, “Wouldn’t you like to know.” If this was the game he wanted to play she would play it. Trying to find out who she was by asking about her parents, real subtle. Well Mr. Hot shot, she’s letting Stompp take the wheel now.

“You know, you make trying to have a conversation pretty hard.” 

She rolled her eyes at him, not even trying to stop them from rolling, “Who says I wanted this conversation?” It was a rhetorical question. She turned to leave only for him to grab her wrist. 

Suddenly she was brought back to that night. The night that changed everything. Three pieces of jewelry in her hand, two brooches one ring, her earrings 2 beeps away from her transformation leaving her. 

A pale hand holding her wrist, keeping her from running away. Green eyes and blond hair belonged to the owner of the hand. 

It had happened too fast. One second she was getting ready to run and detransform. Then someone had stopped her, she turned around to meet hungry green eyes. She froze as she felt lips pressed onto her own. It was only the beeping of her earring that brought her back to reality. A knee to the groin, and she pushed him off of her. Letting the police deal with the trio as she fled. 

She turned to the owner of the tan hand that was holding her back and could only register green eyes. She wouldn’t stand still this time. She twisted her hand so that he was forced to let go. A knee to the stomach had him holding his gut and as she raised her arm ready to punch him was when she finally registered that this wasn’t Adrien. It was just some weird stranger who was persistent in getting past her walls. 

She could hear people talking around her and when she dared to glance around they were all staring. She forced the embarrassed blush that wanted to grace her cheeks down, she wasn’t 13 anymore, she was 16 god damnit! Locking eyes with the mysterious yet persistent guy again, she ran. Ran until she found herself on a balcony, the cold air brushing her face as she gripped the railing. 

Why did she react like that? Why did she always have to be so aggressive? Why couldn’t she just let go of the past and take this damn nose ring off so she didn’t have to go and do stupid shit like this?  Why couldn’t she just be normal and let people in? 

Oh yeah, because she had a bunch of shitty friends that all turned on her because of a liar. The same liar turned her already neglectful parents against her. So Jagged and Penny got custody of her in order to get her out. Her parents didn’t even put up a fight about it, too busy gushing about precious LILA! And now she has major trust issues despite wanting to open and trust people again. Man, she is a wreck. 

“Hey, are you out here?” The mystery guy spoke from the entrance of the balcony. 

“No, I’m not.” She didn’t see the point in not acknowledging him, he could probably see her from where he was standing. 

“I’m sorry about earlier, you were obviously uncomfortable and I pushed your limit. So I really am sorry.” He apologized. 

“Yeah, sorry about kneeing you in the stomach. I thought…” She cut herself off, she didn’t need to pour her whole life story out to a stranger. He probably didn’t even want to know either. 

“It’s okay, I deserved it.” He made his way to the railing, he was a good distance away that she still had her own space, but close enough they could still talk. She relaxed a little thanks to the distance, resting her elbows on the railing. He leaned his back against the railing. They stood there in silence and Marinette decided she wouldn’t mind seeing this mystery boy again. Wait she didn’t even know his name. 

It seemed like he had the same thought since he spoke up, “I don’t think we ever introduced ourselves.” 

“We didn’t.” Damn her being so cold, she should probably take this nose ring off. So that’s what she did, took the nose ring off and placed it in her purse. Maybe this would be good for her. 

“Well, I’m Damian Wayne.” He stated, holding his hand out to shake. 

“Wait, Wayne as in Bruce Wayne? As in the Ice Prince of Gotham?” She questioned, shocked. 

“Oh, so you’ve heard.” He seemed a bit disappointed. 

“Yeah, but I won’t judge if you don’t judge.”

He raised an eyebrow at that before she continued, “My name is Marinette Rolling-Stone.” Now he looked surprised. 

“You're the elusive Diamond Stone?” He asked, disbelief made its way into his voice. 

“That’s what they’re calling me now. At first it was Sapphire Stone. Guess that’s what happens when I stay out of the media too long.” She chuckled a small smile making its way onto her face. 

“Wait, where did your nose ring go?” He looked around as if expecting it to magically appear. 

“I took it off.” 

“Why?” 

“Well at first I wore it to scare people off. People are scared of people that have piercings. I was thinking of getting a tattoo but I’m too young and they’re too permanent.” 

“Why would you want to scare people off?” 

“I have a complicated past. Sometimes putting your trust in someone takes too much risk, I tried to avoid it altogether.” She pulled her sketchbook as she wrote something down.

“Tried?” 

“Why do you think I’m talking to you?” She tore the paper out.

“You're putting your trust in me?” 

“No.” She quickly answered, “But maybe one day.” She handed him the paper and left. 

As she walked away she released a breath she didn’t even realize she was holding. Maybe giving people a second chance wouldn’t be such a bad thing. But right now she just needed to find her parents so she could head home. 

-

Damian hated galas. He hated having to talk to the stuck-up rich folk who thought they were better than everyone just because of their wealth. The girls who would try and flirt with him in order to gain his last name. And their parents who tried to push them together. 

Yes, he definitely hated galas. What made this worse was that his family wouldn’t stop teasing him about the girl who he knocked over that one time. Threatening bodily harm did nothing but amp up the teasing. It was times like this where he truly wished there was a not a no kill rule. If only to give Jason Todd some revenge. 

2 hours into the gala and he was already done. 4 girls had already tried to drape themselves over him and it took all his self-control not to hurt them. He was ready to storm out of this gala when he caught sight of her. 

The mystery girl he had bumped into days before. She was here, at a Wayne gala. Her outfit certainly looked the part of a rich socialite, She wore a long halter dress that flared out at the waist. It started out black at her neck before turning purple at the waist. The bottom of the dress had black music notes dancing across and she had a matching black and purple purse hanging off her shoulder. 

Her hair was down and she seemed to be wearing a little bit of makeup. The only reason he was able to tell it was her was because of the black nose ring that stood out against her fancy look. It looked so out of place compared to everything else. 

He watched as a man tried to approach her only to receive the same glare he had gotten days before, quickly moving on to someone else. Seems like he wasn’t the only one who didn’t want to be here. 

He made his way over to her, perhaps to give himself a second chance at a new impression. She proceeded to pull out her phone and look at something before deflating the tiniest bit. 

He cleared his throat to grab her attention, she looked at him with the same glare once again before her eyes took on a look of shock. 

“You.” She seemed surprised that she had stated this as well. 

He couldn’t help the smirk that spread on his face, she remembered him and still had the same spunky attitude, “Me.” 

Her features took on a look of boredom, but her eyes looked only curious yet cautious, “What are you doing here?” 

The fact that she didn’t recognize him as a Wayne was surprising. He thought that she was only in a hurry before that’s why she didn’t register it was him, but now he knew she truly didn’t know it was him. Perhaps he could use this to his advantage. “I’m always invited to these things, I’ve never seen you before though.” 

“With any luck this will be the last time you see me.” She said it with such confidence he felt inclined to believe. It was strange. He seemed to be the last person she wanted to talk to and yet he still wanted to talk to her. He didn’t want her to leave. So the next best thing is to get answers.

“Why would you say that?” 

“These types of things,” She waved her hand around to motion to the room, “Just aren’t my thing. My parents make it look so easy, but I’ve never been one for this kind of scene. Plus I leave Gotham in a few days.” 

Well that sucked for him. “Desperate to get out here?” 

“You could say that.” 

“Who are your parents?” Maybe he could try to get his father to arrange a meeting with them.

She raised an eyebrow, “Wouldn’t you like to know.” Nevermind. 

“You know, you make trying to have a conversation pretty hard.” He didn’t mean to say that, that was rude. 

She rolled her eyes at him, it looked like he was meant to see that, “Who says I wanted this conversation?” She turned to leave, but he grabbed her wrist. He didn’t want her to go just yet. He felt her freeze then tense when he touched her, her breathing became a little more forced, and she seemed to shake a little. 

Suddenly she twisted out of his grip and kneed him in the stomach. She raised her arm and looked ready to punch him. Her eyes looked far and distant and afraid. They seemed to refocus on him as she dropped her arm and glanced around the room. Of course, people were talking about them.

She locked eyes with him once more before running. He ran after her before his path was blocked off by Dick Grayson. “Damian what-” He didn’t get to finish that question as he dashed passed him, determined not to lose the one girl who wasn’t a stuck up brat. 

He thought he had lost her but then he heard someone taking deep breaths from out on one of the balconies. He was about to go up to her, but from the way she reacted to his sudden hold on her arm earlier, it was probably best to give a warning. “Hey are you out here?” 

He walked out onto the balcony. “No, I’m not.” She likely didn’t want to talk to him. 

“I’m sorry about earlier, you were obviously uncomfortable and I pushed your limit. So I really am sorry.” He apologized. Which was so unlike him because here Damian Wayne was apologizing to a stranger. The weird things she made him do. 

“Yeah, sorry about kneeing you in the stomach. I thought…” She cut herself off, it looked like she wanted to say more but wasn’t going to. 

“It’s okay, I deserved it.” He walked over to the railing, making sure he was a good distance away that she had her own space, but close enough so they could still talk. She seemed to relax a little thanks to the distance, resting her elbows on the railing. He leaned his back against the railing. He quite liked the silence, her company was nice. Oh god he didn’t even know her name.

“I don’t think we ever introduced ourselves.” 

“We didn’t.” She stated in what he was pretty sure was a cold tone. Maybe she wanted to stay mysterious, so he would just introduce himself. 

“Well, I’m Damian Wayne.” He held his hand out to shake. 

“Wait, Wayne as in Bruce Wayne? As in the Ice Prince of Gotham?” So she recognizes the name, not the face. Great.

“Oh, so you’ve heard.” 

“Yeah, but I won’t judge if you don’t judge.” Why would he judge her?

He raised an eyebrow at her before she continued, “My name is Marinette Rolling-Stone.” 

“You're the elusive Diamond Stone?” He asked, disbelief accidentally made its way into his voice. He couldn’t help it. She was claiming to be the adoptive daughter of famous Jagged and Penny Rolling-Stone. The girl that made Jagged’s stage outfits from scratch and managed to get the ferocious Fang, Jagged’s pet crocodile, to love her. The media could only ever get a hold of the back of her head, but those that had talked with her said she shined as bright as a diamond. Hence the nickname, Diamond Stone.

“That’s what they’re calling me now. At first it was Sapphire Stone. Guess that’s what happens when I stay out of the media too long.” She chuckled, a small smile had made its way onto her face. Sapphire Stone, he hadn’t heard of that nickname but he could always do some stalking research. That’s when he noticed. 

“Wait, where did your nose ring go?” He looked around trying to see if it had fallen off her face and she hadn’t noticed.

“I took it off.” 

“Why?” He was truly baffled. 

“Well at first I wore it to scare people off. People are scared of people that have piercings. I was thinking of getting a tattoo but I’m too young and they’re too permanent.” 

“Why would you want to scare people off?” That seems like something he would do.

“I have a complicated past. Sometimes putting your trust in someone takes too much risk, I tried to avoid it altogether.” She pulled out what looked like a sketchbook as she wrote something down. Wait what did she mean by ‘complicated past.’

“Tried?” 

“Why do you think I’m talking to you?” She tore the paper out of the sketchbook.

“You're putting your trust in me?” He asked, she didn’t seem like the type to trust people quickly.

“No.” She quickly answered, he thought so, “But maybe one day.” She handed him the paper and left. As he looked down at it he saw it was her number. There was a message attached below ‘My number. Maybe we can meet up somewhere before I leave.’ He certainly wanted to take that opportunity. 

He tucked the paper into his pocket and made his way back to the gala only to be met with his annoying family. By the curious look in their eyes they wanted to know what just happened. This was not going to be fun to explain. 

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

Hi, I have not disappeared, just didn’t want to write for prompts 8-11. I was honestly going to do prompt 8 but then stuff came up and I didn’t have the time to write. I was also planning to write something for tomorrow’s prompt but then I found out I have something I need to do tomorrow so nothing for tomorrow either. Because I had a specific thing I wanted to write for tomorrow I’m changing it to fit day 14���s prompt. Which means it’s not going to be mega angsty like I originally thought was gonna be 14. You have escaped mega angst and now it will only be medium angst. 

On another note that was a bitch to write and edit. And the fact I had originally planned to write more for it baffles me. I feel like I left it kind of open ended so if you want a part 3 to what I have going on here go ahead and tell me. I’m still trying to decide if I should do a part 3 yet. For those who are confused today was a part 2 to day 6′s prompt, miraculous side effects. Go to my master list and you can find it. 

You can also see on my master list that there are days that are crossed off, which means I won’t be doing those days. I can’t do every single day if I want to still get decent grades. Why I skipped days 8-11. Sorry for that long explanation/rant. Also sorry for posting so late again. I do these things all the way to the last minute. Let’s see if I can break that habit throughout the month. Probably not but a girl can hope. Anyways hope you enjoyed. 

@maribatmarch-2k21 @birdiesthings @buginetye 

[capitainelevi]

omg 21!!! GOOD LUCK HAHAHA

Thank you for your ask!! ❤���❤️ Drabble challenge: Followers send a number to your ask and you write a drabble using that sentence/prompt in your piece.

“He’s a bad kisser.”

Do I wanna know? Modern AU. Movie stars.

Word count: 1457

"Captain, this may be my last night alive."

Levi shifted to her suddenly, and his expression softened at the sorrow painted on his subordinate`s face. He wished he could be a solace for her, same as with every mission, and he tried not to let guilt eat at him. The operation was crucial, as it always had been. More significant than even the undying trust Petra felt towards him.

"Shut up, brat."

He wished he could make promises of an unrestrained future, but Levi never believed himself capable of it. How could he pretend he was Humanity`s Strongest Soldier when so many of his comrades had to sacrifice their lives for the dream they all shared? When the tears started rolling on Petra`s cheeks, Levi took her face in his hands, determined to give her a reason to live. He could taste the saltiness of her tears as he pressed his lips to hers in a desperate attempt to show her he was always hers.

"Let`s take a break, people."

Hange`s obnoxious voice pulled Levi out of the fantasy, and he broke the kiss abruptly. His scene partner only smiled at him before making her way out of the set. Levi could feel his heart pulsating faster than before, and he decided not to trade precious hours of sleep for caffeine anymore. As enjoyable as the kiss had been, he refused to think it could have had any effect on him. Levi was not afraid to admit it: he was not fond of acting. It was nothing more than a job to him, one he found himself in since his early childhood. Being the wonder child of Hollywood set Levi up on a path of success through adulthood, but there was no movie or even scene that left a mark on him. He was about to refuse the odd script when he took a glimpse at the small photo of the ginger girl attached to the papers.

Petra Ral. A rising star of Hollywood and the first actor to piquet Levi`s interest in years. Unbeknownst to him, Petra used to refer to herself as his biggest fan in her teenage years. Petra would never admit being the admin of one of his online fan clubs or kissing her Levi poster goodnight, of course. She yelled at the phone when her agent announced Levi had accepted the role, that she would get to play in a movie with THE Levi Ackerman.

But disappointment hit her on their first day on set. While she knew all about her greatest infatuation`s cold exterior, Petra had hoped she could break through his walls. Not only was Levi cold towards her, but after a week of working together, she was sure Levi despised her. When Hange, one of Levi`s childhood friends, found her crying in her trailer after they shot Eren`s accidental transformation, Petra had to let it all out. She ranted to Hange for more than an hour, and the only reaction they had was to laugh at Petra`s distress. She thought Hange was trying to console her by deceiving her, that they had never seen Levi so open towards a fellow actor before.

Petra almost salivated at the sight of the extra coffee cup in her makeup artist`s hand. Nifa always knew how to make Petra`s day better.

"I love you."- Petra whispered to Nifa as she pulled the cup out of her hand greedily.

Petra was surprised her friend had managed to keep quiet for so long, as the smirk plastered on her face kept growing more and more by the second.

"So, how was it?"

Petra decided to take a long sip of her coffee, letting Nifa boil in her curiosity a bit more. The kiss had been breathtaking, exceeding even her incredibly high expectations. Petra found a smile growing on her lips at the thought of Levi`s on hers. At Nifa`s groan, Petra decided to end her suffering.

"Alright, alright. It was... better than I ever expected."

Nifa giggled, equally excited at Petra`s opportunity to lock lips with one of Hollywood`s hottest eligible bachelors. She hit Petra`s shoulder playfully- "You lucky dog!"

Petra couldn`t help but smile at her friend`s adorable pout- "I`m almost jealous."

"Please, I had to work with Oluo before this. I deserve it."

Petra couldn`t help but sigh at the memories locked away in her mind, the ones she brought up every time a scene required her disgust- "He`s a bad kisser."

"It`s the tongue, isn`t it?"

The two girls burst into laughter, missing the sound of her trailer door closing after the short man. Levi strolled away angrily, throwing the coffee cup he had brought for Petra in the nearest trash can. He couldn`t help but feel hurt at her words. His stomach churned at the idea that the only girl he had liked in years thought he was a horrible kisser. And the tongue? Levi couldn`t recall having used it. Or was it the lack of it that made the kiss disgusting?

"Hey, did someone finally piss in your coffee, Shorty?"

Levi was too caught up in his turmoil to offer Hange an answer, ignoring them and Erwin setting bets on who hated him enough to go to such length. He had trouble controlling the grimace on his face at the sight of Petra`s smiling figure making her way to them, and he felt guilty when he noticed her deflating on the spot. It was not the girl`s fault for not finding their kiss enjoyable, after all.

Hange embraced the ginger girl- "Petra, darling, the crying was on point! But we do need to redo the kiss scene." Petra studied Levi`s reaction, and his lack of any left her confused. She thought the kiss had been astounding.

Levi couldn`t believe his luck. Not only Petra thought he was a bad kisser, but he was also going to put her through it again. As Levi was standing in front of the pretty ginger, he made up his mind. He was determined to make it up to her.

Levi hungrily pressed his lips against hers as one of his arms embraced the girl, pulling her closer towards him. Petra was surprised at the sudden passion behind Levi`s kiss, but she reciprocated in a matter of seconds. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and when Levi nipped at her lips, she opened her mouth to let his tongue explore. Petra moaned, making Levi kiss her deeper.

Hange and Erwin kept looking between themselves and at the couple, perplexed by the sudden show of passion. Hange checked their files again- "Erwin, did we have a sex scene next?" Erwin shook his head no, both stunned and intrigued by the couple so lost in each other they forgot their surroundings.

Hange laughed awkwardly, unsure of how to proceed next- "Hey, guys, appreciable commitment! But I think we`re done for now."

Levi and Petra ignored their calls, only breaking their kiss after the third time both Hange and Erwin intervened. Levi left the set suddenly, without saying any word, and Petra exchanged confused looks with the people left.

When she spotted him walking around in circles outside of the building, Petra was unsure if she should approach him. She wasn`t even sure what to make of his reaction. Petra closed her eyes and gathered all the courage she had before she made her way to him.

"So... hey. That kiss was really..."

Levi cut her off- "Look, I`m truly sorry it was a bad experience for you. I tried to make it up to you."

Petra was left wordless. Bad experience? Their kiss had been so astounding she was sure if levitating was possible, she could have achieved it.

"Bad experience?"

Levi sat down on the bench with his head between his palms. He just wanted to get home and forget he had made a fool of himself. Twice.

"I heard you and Nifa talking earlier in your trailer. I was on my way to bring you coffee."

Petra couldn`t help the laughter erupting from her, and when she noticed Levi`s pained expression, she tried her best to gather her words. She took a deep breath- "Levi, it was out of context. We were talking about Oluo, my former set partner."

Levi`s mouth dropped open, surprised at his stupidity. He could feel his cheeks growing red from the embarrassment his impulsiveness caused him. His reaction didn`t go unnoticed by Petra, who decided to take matters into her hand.

Petra sat down next to him with a cheeky smile painted on her lips- "But how about we kiss again, and I can give you my opinion after that? You know what they say: third time`s a charm."

[lady-charinette]

Plagg's Judgement - ML Angst

Got struck by inspiration randomly, hope you enjoy! :3

!! Warnings: Major Character Injury, Character Death, Blood and Violence, Gore, Heavy Angst, Graphic Descriptions of Violence, Hurt no Comfort, Sad Ending, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dead Adrien, Dead Gabriel Agreste !!

Gabriel Agreste had not been expecting this outcome.

No amount of meticulous preparation, careful planing and experience could've possibly prepared him for what was to come. His imminent demise.

The glass shards littering the floor cut into his skin, tearing the flesh and marking the carpets with deep red streaks of his lifeblood. But he paid the pain no mind, no amount of pain could keep him from trying to get away from this creature, even if he had to crawl on his hands and knees. Expensive clothing hand designed by Gabriel himself transformed into tattered strips of cloth, dragged across the shards of glass and debris. Wealth meant nothing when its owner stared death in the eyes. The turbulent weather behind the hulking creature only highlighted its looming silhouette, lightning flashed across the sky every so often, bathing the figure in flashes of white briefly. The room was too dark to clearly discern any details, but Gabriel didn't need to see them anyway. He knew who stood before him and in this moment, he wished he didn't. The more Gabriel scrambled to get away, the closer to creature advanced. One step back was his step forward. The older man's back hit the wall and his hand landed on another pile of shards embedding themselves mercilessly into his bleeding skin. This time, it wasn't the glass from the destroyed window, it was glass from a picture frame. The frame holding the picture of Adrien's childhood drawing. The paper looked worn, but the most prominent sign of damage was the savage cut that ripped the picture in half. Done so by his own hand. Gabriel's head whipped forward when the creature released a long drawn out howl, a guttural sound deep from the confines of its throat that sent icy chills rushing down Gabriel's spine. His legs were immobile, paralyzed from the fear that seeped into his very bones. The creature seemed to smell his fear or sense it, something in the air triggered it to move. Straight for Gabriel's throat. Shutting his eyes closed to brace for the impact, Gabriel had felt nothing but the embrace of winter covering his whole body. The chills he had experienced were nothing compared to this coldness. Slowly, Gabriel fought to open his eyes, only to inspect what had happened, if the creature had killed him and Gabriel was sent to a place filled with snow. His vision finally came into focus and he was met with the most striking green eyes he had ever seen, no, not striking. Terrifying. The glowing green eyes seemed to penetrate the very depths of Gabriel's soul, sucking its very life force out of him. Those eyes didn't leave him for a second, a predator who wouldn't let his prey escape at any costs. Only when the creature shifted its weight that the veil of ice finally left Gabriel and was replaced by a searing heat that burned his very core. The scream that tore itself from the man shook the very walls of his home, if the creature hadn't already destroyed the windows, Gabriel's scream would have. His whole body lurched forward, hands clawing at the floor, only picking up more glass shards and driving them deeper into his palms when he clenched his fists. The pain only climbed, until his sight filled with flashes of white and black. The creature shifted its foot again, applying more pressure on Gabriel's torn leg, clearly fractured with the way it was bent and the bone that stuck savagely out of the bleeding skin. Gabriel's heart was racing too quickly, his mind was moving too quickly. How was it that the most powerful man in France could end up lying in a pool of his own blood, bested by a creature whose only existence was filled with death and decay? As if reading his spiraling thoughts, the creature lifted a heavy arm and dug its claws into Gabriel's shoulder. Pain filled his body from every angle, the older man wasn't sure what part of him didn't feel like it was submerged in liquid fire. And yet, Gabriel had enough wits about him to focus on the creature that would bring his death. "Y...ou...." his throat worked furiously to produce enough salive to form words, but no matter what he did, the words barely left his lips. "....wha...wha...." he wheezed, willing air back into his overworked lungs. "...why?" A gust of warm air hit Gabriel's face,

the harbinger of death visibly irritated by the man's inquiry. It didn't answer, not at first, only gestured with its long black tail to something in the dark corner. A figure was slumped on the ground, it's back was facing them, but the unmistakable shock of golden hair was all they needed to know the man's identity. It was - had been - his son. Gabriel understood, this creature wanted revenge for the life that was lost. The life Gabriel took. He managed to breathe, fill his aching lungs with air and speak, "All....this...for him?" The creature crushed Gabriel's shoulder against the wall with an audible crack and a shot of pain assaulted the man's head, as if someone had stabbed him. Gabriel cried out, a mixture between a laugh and a howl of pain. Finally, the creature spoke, it's voice low and deep, a voice befitting a beast. "You never cherished your son's life the way you cherished your own. Tikki may have granted all forms in this universe life, but I can take them just as easily." claws dug deeper into Gabriel's shoulder and his body jumped visibly. "You dared hurt my kitten. Now that he is gone, I'll finally do what I've dreamed of since meeting you, Gabriel Agreste." A short gasp and an audible crack later, Gabriel's body slumped to the ground in a motionless heap. The storm that waged a war outside still persisted, but the storm in the kwami's heart was calmer, if only slightly. The hulking figure slowly moved towards Adrien's body. With every step it took, its body began to shrink, the deep imprints on the floor grew shallower and shallower. Finally reaching the cold body, a small creature nestled itself in the crook of Adrien's neck, rubbing its black head affectionately into the nest of golden locks. Plagg's tears flowed freely from his eyes, ears pressed flat to his head in mourning. "My brave kitten..." the kwami whispered brokenly into his human, his friend, burying himself deeper into the body that so often offered him scratches and cuddles. That never failed to show him love and protection. The same protection Plagg failed to give to Adrien before it was too late.

Thanks for reading! :) Hope you enjoyed!

[skswriting]

the lottery offering

Rating: M Pairing: Jeongguk/You Words: 22,334 Summary:  “I volunteer,” you say softly, gasps rising up from the crowd behind you.  You can hear some of your tribe members burst into tears, some mutterings of thank the gods.  Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Elder Choi smiling smugly.  “Are you sure, child?” Alpha Kim asks gravely, “Are you ready to leave all this behind?  You will not be able to come home.”  You internally scoff.  Home.  This place hasn’t been home in years.“I am sure, Alpha Kim.  I volunteer to be the offering this year,” you confirm, voice unwavering. AN: i’ve been working on this for too long and it ITSELF is too long i literally just wanted to write about big dick jeongguk why am i like this Warnings: jeongguk is an alpha, there’s like a hint of beastiality? you don’t actually get fucked by a wolf though you just want to be lol, lots of gratuitous sex and overall cheesiness because jk is still a goofball, pussy eating, finger, edging, overstim? maybe? or at least a poor attempt at it, blowjobs, vaginal sex and knotting, i’m not sure if i have to warn about anything else, also major warning i read through this SO quick i was tired of looking at it i’m sorry

When one of the Elders asks for you to meet in their cabin after dinner, your heart sinks to your feet.  The Elders, and most of your tribe for that matter, don’t go out of their way to speak to you, so for one of them to call upon you can’t be good news.

You don’t eat much, stomach twisting violently as you sit in a secluded corner, immune to the chattering around you.  Maybe today is the day they kick you out.  It’s no secret your tribe doesn’t like you, your orphanism a major hurdle they’re unable to overcome, considering the scarce resources your tribe are reluctant to share with someone who’s unable to provide.

“Elder Choi,” you knock politely, bowing your head as you pop your head in, “You wished to see me?”

“Ah, yes, Y/N, come in child,” his voice is soft, giving no hint as to what’s to come, “Please, sit.”

You kneel on a pillow at his tea table, accepting the cup from him.  It’s silent as you both drink, your mind whirling as you try to think what’s about to happen.

“It will be your first Lottery tomorrow, yes?” he asks.

“Yes, Elder Choi,” you answer.

He nods and falls silent again.  He stares out the window and you watch him carefully, the flames of his fire casting shadows over his face.  He gives you a small smile when he faces you again, setting his cup down with a decisive clank.

“We have not had to host a Lottery for a few years.  The Lottery, though of mutual benefit to us, is a sad affair.  To lose a member of our tribe, a son or a daughter, to have them ripped away from their family and friends.  The tears and the good byes.  Heart wrenching, isn’t it?”

It’s a rhetorical question, but you answer anyway, “Yes Elder, very heart wrenching.”

“It is a blessing, however, when someone is selfless enough to volunteer, someone prepared to give themselves over instead of letting someone be ripped from us.”

It hits you, what he’s asking.  There’s no love lost between you and your tribe, but to have an Elder hint that you should just give yourself over cuts in a way you weren’t expecting.

“Little Mina will be in the Lottery this year, won’t she?” Elder Choi asks, and it’s a low blow.  She’s been sick for a few years and it’s been hard to obtain medicine for her, but she’s been so optimistic about everything and is the joy of the tribe, “It would kill her mother if she was chosen.”

“It would…” you whisper.

“I’m sorry, I did not mean to bring the mood down.  I merely wanted to make sure you were ready for tomorrow.  Do you have your dress ready?” it’s a ruse and you know it.  He’s laid the seed and now he’s waiting for it to take root.

“Yes Elder, I’ve been working on it for weeks,” you tell him and he nods.

“Good.  Please, finish your tea, I don’t wish to keep you too late and have you tired for tomorrow.”

“Thank you, Elder.”

He says nothing more as you sip slowly at your tea, mulling it over.

You don’t like his manipulation; it’s abhorrent, really, to use your outcast status and the personal attack of Mina against you.  But really, what is there to keep you here?  There’s no happy ending for you, just a life of solitude, always on the outskirts.  What could the other side hold that would be worse than what you’re already facing?

You’ve made up your mind as you push your empty cup away.

“Good night, Y/N, I’m glad we had this talk,” he tells you earnestly, leaning forward as he stares into your eyes.

“Good night Elder, I will see you at the Lottery tomorrow,” you bow to him, before you take your leave.

-

It’s a somber atmosphere, you and the other participants standing in front of the stage, Elder Lee standing beside Alpha Kim behind the bowl with all the offerings’ names.  All of the participants are dressed in white, as symbolism of consenting to being an offering, blank and ready to leave everything behind.

You’re standing at the front, Seyoung on one side and Bongsoo on the other.  They both have their hands clasped in front of them, the tension evident in the rigidity of their muscles, but you’re standing loose.  You’ve already made your peace, you just have to wait for the right moment.

“Everyone,” Alpha Kim booms, “Thank you for gathering here today.  It has come time for need of another offering.  We have plenty of goods to provide for trade, to be delivered next week before the cold sets in.”

There’s no call back, as the crowd waits for the end.

“Let us not stall any longer.  Jeongguk, please, step forward and draw the name.”

The recipient this year is tall and toned, muscles shifting under his tunic as he steps up beside the alpha.  Judging by his aura, he too is an alpha, dark eyes sweeping across the crowd.  It must be your imagination, but you feel as if his gaze lingers on you for a moment longer.  There’s no mistaking the red bleeding into his eyes, overtaking the gold specks of his status.  He’s the closest you’ve ever seen turning feral and you’re surprised they’ve let him get this far.

Your heart kickstarts when you see him raise his arm and prepare to reach into the depths of the bowl and seal someone’s fate.  Before his fingers get the chance to grasp onto a slip of paper, you step forward.

“I volunteer,” you say softly, gasps rising up from the crowd behind you.

You can hear some of your tribe members burst into tears, some mutterings of thank the gods.  Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Elder Choi smiling smugly.

“Are you sure, child?” Alpha Kim asks gravely, “Are you ready to leave all this behind?  You will not be able to come home.”

You internally scoff.  Home.  This place hasn’t been home in years.

“I am sure, Alpha Kim.  I volunteer to be the offering this year,” you confirm, voice unwavering.

He examines you for a moment, before turning to Jeongguk.  Jeongguk takes a moment to take in your figure, head tilting as his eyes roam over you.  You stand tall and proud, looking him head on.  His mouth quirks when your eyes meet and he nods.

“What is your name?”

“Y/N, Alpha Kim.  My name is Y/N.”

“Y/N, we have accepted your volunteer as this Lottery’s offering.  Gather your things, we leave within the hour.”

You bow to them, surprised to receive a bow back, before you turn to the side and bow to the Elders.  You don’t say anything to anyone as you head back to your small hut to gather your meager things.

-

The Lottery started when a shifter pack approached tribes like yours, desperate beyond belief.  Their numbers were small and members of their pack were on the verge of turning feral, unable to sustain mates to keep them from turning.  They proposed a trading system: tribes would provide bodies for mates and in turn they would provide resources.  This would keep either of you from dying, letting the pack slowly grow their numbers and letting your tribe stockpile food.  The Lottery was considered the easiest and fairest way to pick who would be traded. The Lottery has been around for as long as you can remember.

The redness of Jeongguk’s eyes means the process has started; his canines are elongated even in human form and his nails are too long.  His hair is shaggier than others and his communication skills are lacking.

The other problem is that he apparently tends to stay in his shifted form, a big, black wolf that’s almost as tall as you and definitely bigger.  The first day of your return trip, Jeongguk walks ahead of you, tail swishing as he leads with Alpha Kim.  Alpha Kim had explained quietly that you might have a harder time mating with Jeongguk with how far along he already is, the feral part of him fighting to reject the bond in order to move forward with the transformation.

It’s not a comforting thought, because if you mate with Jeongguk and the bond is rejected, you’ll both die.

“Please be patient with him,” Alpha Kim asked of you, which seemed uncharacteristic for his alpha status, “I watched Jeongguk grow up, I can’t let him go feral.”

“Yes, Alpha Kim, I’ll do my best,” you had told him.

Now, you’re on your way to your new pack, your new home.  You’re still wearing your Lottery dress and you’re starting to sweat, unused to walking for so long, but you don’t say anything.  It’ll take a few days to reach their pack and you don’t want to already be a burden to them.

There’s only a few of you.  You, Jeongguk, Alpha Kim, and one guard introduced as Yoongi.  You can keep up for the most part, because Jeongguk and Yoongi are the only two that are shifted, so they keep it slow for Alpha Kim.

Eventually though, the fatigue catches up to you.  Your calf muscles are screaming, urging you to take a break and rest, and you think you can feel a blister on the back of your foot.  You don’t mean to lag behind, but it’s getting harder to breathe, your chest tight, as you focus on each next step and not just dropping to your knees.

A rumble breaks you out of your headspace and you glance to see Jeongguk standing in front of you.  His eyes scare you, blank as they stare at you, and you’re almost unable to see the gold amidst the red.  There’s a brief stare down between you, before he turns his back to you and hunches down slightly.

You’re surprised that he’s offering to carry you, but your screaming feet don’t let you look a gift horse in the mouth, so you tiredly straddle his back, anchoring your hands in his midnight black fur.  He doesn’t even seem to register your added weight, trotting to catch back up to the others.  Alpha Kim doesn’t say anything as you rejoin them, but he does give you a slight smile.

“Thank you,” you whisper quietly to Jeongguk, for his ears only.  They twitch in recognition, but that’s all you get.

Bedding down for the night is slightly awkward, the shifters trying to give you privacy as you roll out a sleeping pad and lay a thin blanket on it.  There’s a little of the fire left from dinner that they’re maintaining to keep you warm and you’re thankful, huddling down beside it.

The blister on the back of your foot needs tended to, the skin peeling and the blood dripping.  You hiss as you touch it, digging into your rucksack to see if you have any salve.  You keep your groan to yourself, frustratedly running your fingers through your hair before you go to stand.

“Where are you going?” a soft voice asks and when you turn, you’re surprised to see that it’s Jeongguk who asked you.

He had shifted back earlier, but this is the first time you think you’ve heard him speak, and the airiness of his voice doesn’t match the sharpness of his face.  It’s pleasant though, a soothing, melodic timber.

“I’m going to see if there’s some salve materials nearby, burdock root or chamomile or something,” you shrug, limping a little as you turn away, “I’m not running away, I’ll be right back.”

“I’m not worried about you running away, I’m worried about how dark it is and the wild animals around here,” his voice takes on a gruff quality as he snaps the words out, gaze heated, “I’m coming with you.”

Your bite your lower lip, feeling properly chastised.  You didn’t mean to cause offense and you duck your head as he nears.  Neither of the other shifters say anything, watching you two leave.

It’s quiet as the two of you walk, you using the waning light to search.  You want to apologize, but you don’t want to add insult to injury, and he doesn’t seem keen on saying anything either.

“Burdock?” he gestures to a flowering purple bush.

“Oh, yes!” you grin, hobbling over to it.  You hum as you gently dig into the ground, unearthing a few roots of the plant and tearing them apart gently.

“Chamomile doesn’t grow this far north, but there should be some symphytum around we can add,” Jeongguk tells you, standing behind you, seemingly on watch as he surveys the surrounding area.

You’ve never heard of that plant, but he seems to know what he’s talking about so you nod as you stand.  He reaches a hand out to steady you, your skin tingling under his fingers.

“Your dress,” he says suddenly and you just look at him, “You should have let me dig up the root, you got it dirty.”

You look down at yourself, seeing the dirt patches on your bare knees and the smudges on your dress.

“Eh, it’s just a dress, I can wash it.  I’ll let you pick the symp… symphytum when we find it though,” you grin at him and you’re rewarded with a half chuckle, “We should get back to it before we lose the light.”

Jeongguk raises an eyebrow as he taps underneath his eye, “I can see in the dark, remember?”

You bark out a sarcastic laugh, “Sorry, my puny human eyes are only so useful.”

“It’s okay, we’ll get through this together,” he grins as you and you give him a real laugh, before you nudge him along.

Jeongguk points out some other plants you never heard of before as you search for the symphytum and you take in all he has to offer.  You dabbled in medicine and gardening in your tribe and so you listen to everything Jeongguk tells you, especially considering the area you’re heading to is so much different than the area you grew up in.

“Ah, here we go, symphytum,” Jeongguk points it out and you nod, taking in the features of the plant, “we need the flowers and leaves.”

“Wow, how do you know so much about all this?” you ask, admiration clearly present, and you swear you see him blush a little.

“My grandma was our pack’s medic,” he tells you, gathering what you need to add to your burdock root.

“Was…?” you ask softly.

“She died last year,” he says, quite gruffly.  He doesn’t elaborate more than that and you don’t expect him to.

Your parents passed when you were young, and you don’t remember specific details of them, but you know the feeling of loss well, an emptiness inside that you can’t seem to alleviate.  There are memories you have that you know you’ll never get to recreate or commiserate, and you can empathize with Jeongguk on that, who must have been close to his grandmother if his knowledge is anything to judge it off of.

You don’t say anything, but you lay a hand gently on his arm, hoping you can convey your emotions to him.  Jeongguk looks at your hand on his arm before he looks up at you, eyes still guarded, but you don’t look away.  He studies you, able to see you much better in the dark than you’re able to see him despite your eyes adjusting, before he touches his hand to yours in return.

You smile softly at him as he shifts from touching your hand to holding it.  Neither of you say anything as you stay there for a moment, just existing together, before he softly clears his throat to break the moment.

“We need water to turn this into a paste, let’s head back to camp,” he says and you agree.

You let Jeongguk carry you back to get to camp quicker and you see Alpha Kim and Yoongi curled up in their shifted form, the fire still lit but small.  Alpha Kim raises his head as you two approach, giving you both a quick once over to check that neither of you are hurt.  Once satisfied, he turns his head the other way, and the two of you are left to your own devices.

“Here, mash them like this,” Jeongguk tells you softly, sitting beside you on your sleeping pad as he crushes the materials together between two rocks, “We’ll add just a bit of water at a time until we get something thick and not too watery.  It’ll stick best to your blister that way.”

You nod, watching him carefully as he makes the paste.

“Give me your foot,” he instructs and you scoot back to place it in his lap, “this shouldn’t hurt, but let me know if I press too hard.”

He’s careful as he spreads the paste lightly over your blister, face entirely concentrated as he takes care of you.

“It doesn’t look like we have to wrap it, but we’ll put some more on in the morning.  You should lay down now, though, it’s getting late, and we have to get up early in the morning.”

Before he moves, you grab his wrist to make him look at you, “Wait.  I… I wanted to apologize.”

He tilts his head in question, waiting for you to continue, and you frown as you let go of his wrist.

“I didn’t mean anything when I made that comment about not running away earlier,” you tell him, “That wasn’t a dig at you, or your pack.”

Jeongguk sighs as he removes your hand only to hold it, staring down at the way his hand engulfs yours, “It’s okay.  I can’t imagine how hard it must be for your tribe to give up someone every Lottery.  I know it’ll be difficult for us, having such a small time frame to prepare to be mated for the rest of our lives, but please know that I’m thankful for you.  I don’t know your reasons for volunteering, but I like to think that your willingness gives us more of a chance, with no prejudice and no fear.”

Jeongguk softly places your foot back on the ground, before he pushes himself up and away before you can say anything.  You can tell by the movement of his body that he’s about to shift.  It looks like such a weird and painful process, the bones shifting into place as he hunches over, fur sprouting from his skin as his face elongates and ears pop up.

You notice that Jeongguk always shakes his legs out when he shifts, and just him; neither Alpha Kim or Yoongi do it.  It must just be some quirk of Jeongguk’s and it makes you giggle around a throat still tight with emotion as he does it, making him turn towards you.

He growls lowly in his chest, something that sounds almost playful, before trotting over to you as you settle on your sleeping pad.  He nudges his face against you, still growling a little, and you giggle as you realize he’s trying to push you down to lay on your sleeping pad, snuffling over you as you settle down, pulling the thin blanket over you.

He sniffs at the ground near you, turning in a few circles before he decides to curl up behind you, close enough that you can feel the heat of his body but not enough that it’s suffocating.  Combined with the heat of the fire, your body relaxes onto your pad despite the hardness of the ground and you fall asleep easily.

-

You wake up pleasantly warm, head pillowed on something soft.  You hum as you snuggle deeper into it, body rising and falling rhythmically, a soft rumbling in your ear thrumming through you pleasantly.  It’s almost enough to lull you back to sleep, before you realize you didn’t fall asleep with a pillow and what you’re laying on feels eerily alive.

When you crack your eyes open you see Jeongguk in his shifted form curled around you, your body wrapped up in his with your head resting on the side of his torso.  He’s awake, lazily watching you, and you notice that some of the red in his eyes is diminished.  They’re brown and gold this morning, shining brilliantly in the early morning light.  You realize he’d purposely been rumbling for you as it slows down, the sound dying out beneath your ear.  You can feel his tail twitching by your legs, as you’re completely swaddled in him, and you realize this is one of most comfortable moments of your life.

“Good morning,” you whisper to him, and he sighs as a response, curling around you tighter, “We should eat before we set out.”

You pick your head up to see Yoongi gone, probably to hunt for breakfast, and Alpha Kim in his human form rummaging around through their belongings to prepare for whatever he brings back.

You slowly extract yourself from Jeongguk, stretching sore muscles from walking, but you’re surprised to find that your back isn’t sore from sleeping on the ground.  You wonder how long you’d been laying on Jeongguk, knowing he’d chosen to curl up behind you when you went to sleep.  Judging by the way Jeongguk whines and huffs as you untangle yourself from him, you can tell he was as comfortable as you had been, trying to use his body weight to keep you pinned down.

After a light breakfast, the four of you set out.  Jeongguk makes you ride on his back for the rest of the day, despite your protest that your feet and blisters were fine.  He had growled at you, circling your form and rubbing up against you until Alpha Kim had approached you.

“We won’t reach the pack until tomorrow afternoon, it’ll be easier if the three of us can shift and Jeongguk carries you,” Alpha Kim had told you and you had acquiesced, mounting Jeongguk.

The second day passed much the same as the first had, and ends with the four of you bedding down for the night around a small camp.  Jeongguk is less shy about curling around you in his shifted form this time around, nudging your shoulder with his snout before unceremoniously plopping his head down in your lap.  You want to protest his closeness because you feel gross, still wearing your dirty Lottery dress, but you had been unwilling to hold them up for even a moment just for you to change, so you let him lay on you.

It had been worrying to you that Jeongguk had stayed shifted all day, but you can’t deny how comfortable he is when you’re trying to go to sleep, forgoing your blanket as you bury yourself in him.  You brush your hands through his fur, marveling at how soft it is and he starts to rumble under you.  You realize that he doesn’t do it for you but that its his way of letting you know that he’s comfortable.  His nose digs under your hand until it’s resting under your palm, urging you to move it.  You fall asleep petting him, thinking that volunteering no longer feels like a death sentence but more like… a new beginning.

You wake up to sunlight and rough jostling, with a gruff snuffling in your ear.  You’re disoriented for a few moments, head rolling against the ground as you try to gain your bearings.  You’re laying on your side facing away from the camp and there’s sweat dripping down your back because Jeongguk in his shifted form has you pressed right up against his underside, nose tight against the back of your ear as he growls deep in his chest.

It takes you a moment, but when you register the wetness and the growling, you realize what’s happening.  His lower half is thrusting up against you and his cock is between your legs, rubbing against your skin.  Your pulse quickens as you realize that Jeongguk must be having a wet dream or something similar as he growls in his sleep and licks at your skin, sending a jolt through your entire body.

You’re almost mortified to realize that the wetness you first thought was coming from him is actually from you, that you like what’s happening.  Even though he’s in his shifted form it’s still Jeongguk and there’s no denying that you find him attractive.  The fact that he’s rutting against you is doing things to you, his cock hot and heavy against you making your head spin.

You’re afraid to look down, to sear the image into your mind.  You know it’s not going to look like his human cock, but when you glance down, you can’t help the way you keen in the back of your throat.  He’s big, precum smearing against your stomach as he works his cock under your dress, pressing against your clit from the way he’s got you pinned.  With one of his legs over both of yours, and one of his front legs extended over your torso to press into the ground to give himself leverage, you would have to fight to get out of his hold.

But you don’t want to.  You can feel the heat between your legs, the arousal swirling in your stomach as his growling gets deeper and his tongue gets more insistent.  You can feel the press of his teeth against the sensitive skin of your neck and when his thrusts speed up, hitting your clit just a bit faster, you can’t help but moan lowly.  You hope Alpha Kim and Yoongi are out hunting so you don’t have to deal with the embarrassment of knowing they know.

You give a tentative thrust down and moan a little higher when Jeongguk’s cock rubs against your clit harder.  You clench around nothing, whimpering as you thrust down again, and again, until you’re working in tandem with him.  You can feel Jeongguk’s body shaking behind you, his low growling shifting to a higher pitched whine, nosing roughly at your ear before his nips turn purposeful.

You startle when it dawns on you that he’s finally woken up, the nip more than a dream instinct, but his thrusting doesn’t stop.  You gasp when he starts shifting behind you, helping you onto your knees and elbows as he stays crouched over you, body dwarfing yours as you rest your forehead against your sleeping pad.

You can’t believe this is happening but Jeongguk doesn’t give you time to think, his shifted cock giving your clit delicious friction as he stays mounted this way, thrusting with conscious purpose now.  He noses along the entire back of your neck, licking the shell of your ear and nipping at your shoulders.  Your back is so slick with sweat you can feel every press of Jeongguk’s belly against you, clenching with each thrust, wishing he’d stuff you with his cock.  It’d tear you in half but it’d be worth it to be so full, to be forced to take it, to test the limit.

You moan as you think about it, letting Jeongguk phantom fuck you and reaching a hand under your dress to touch the tip of his cock as he thrusts against your stomach.  Jeongguk lets out a half howl, thrusting up against the palm of your hand as the press against your clit becomes constant.

“Jeong-Jeongguk,” you hiccup, “S’too much, please, gonna cum.”

Jeongguk is shaking above you and you sob as the pleasure peaks, Jeongguk continuing to fuck up against you as you cum, clenching hard around nothing and whining in displeasure over it.  He noses eagerly at your neck, licking furiously at your skin as his thrusts grow erratic, close to his own orgasm.

You reach further down so you can brush feather light fingertips over the body of his cock.  His shifted cock is much different than a human cock, no mushroom head but thick at the base where his knot would be.  You groan as you think about it, the dirty mechanics of being knotted like this, out in the open in camp with your knees pressed to the ground and your dress pushed up to your breasts.  Your panties are useless at this point, sopping wet and glued to the ridges of your cunt.

You feel Jeongguk throw his head back and howl loudly as the first spurts of his cum shoot up to your tits, smearing against the skin of your stomach before it drips down onto the inside of your dress.  It’s disgusting, and filthy, and you’re horrified to learn that you love it, the feeling of being utterly dominated like this.

Jeongguk pants against your skin as he expends all that he has, his body sagging against yours but not forcing you down to the ground.  Your body is shaking as he steps back from you, his snout trailing down your back and to your crack, nosing at the thin fabric of your panties.  You can feel the puffs of his breath against your soaked skin and you slowly push yourself up, arms and legs shaking.

You’re breathing hard as Jeongguk walks around you, eyes brilliant as he stares at you.  His tongue flicks out to lick at your cheek and you breathlessly giggle, Jeongguk pressing his face against your chest to slowly guide you back, laying you against your sleeping pad.

You’re tired, the exhaustion settling in your bones as you glance up at the slightly blue tinted sky.  It has to still be early, but when you glance over, Alpha Kim and Yoongi are gone, which you are immensely thankful for.

However, Jeongguk doesn’t give you time to rest.  He sniffs earnestly at your neck, rubbing his face and tongue against you as he works his way down.  Your dress feels disgusting from where the cum covered front is pressed to your skin, but Jeongguk just brushes it up over your breasts, licking at one nipple and then the next before he continues down.  He cleans your stomach of himself, nose warm and tongue warmer, and you’re not ashamed at the way arousal has started to pool in your stomach again.

Jeongguk must be able to smell it, tongue pressing more eagerly the closer he gets to your cunt.  He nudges your thighs apart with his snout, growling appreciatively when they spread and your smell hits him full force.  He bites at your panties, pulling the thin fabric away and down your legs, tossing them in a random direction over his shoulder before the point of his tongue flicks against your clit.

You don’t bother to stifle your moan, the feeling of his tongue rough in texture as it presses harder with every lick, cleaning you of your dripping arousal with valiant effort.  You cry out when his tongue presses inside you, licking at your walls deeper than most cocks have ever reached. You can’t stop the little sounds you make, the humping of your hips against Jeongguk’s face as the pleasure builds.

If he tongues this good you can’t imagine the damage he can do with his cock, spearing you open effortlessly and making you cum multiple times.  You clamp down around his tongue as you think about it, wishing he would just fuck you, shifted or not, cumming to the thought of it.

Jeongguk snuffles happily against you, licking your cunt clean of your cum and your thighs free of sweat.  When you gain the energy to lift your head, Jeongguk is hunched over you, licking his jowls with his tail wagging.  His tail wagging.  It’s so ridiculous you can’t help but laugh, letting your head thunk back against the ground as you hear the telltale sound of his bones shifting.

After a few moments of silence, gentle hands lead your legs closed, running up your sides to grab your dress and pull it up and off, hitting the ground with a wet smack.

“C’mon, there’s a little stream near here, let’s get you cleaned up,” his voice is laced with sex and you shiver, letting him pull you up and onto shaky legs, opting to just carry you when you end up swaying.

It’s not awkward to be naked in front of him, rubbing cold, clean water against your skin.  Jeongguk watches you for a few minutes, appreciating the dip of your fingers between your thighs as you clean yourself of spit and arousal and your cum.  He finally strips himself and you can’t help but stare.  Even in human form he’s big, cock hanging half hard and heavy between his legs, thigh and abdominal muscles toned and flexing as he perches himself on a jutting rock to wash himself.

Your mouth is watering and you don’t even care; you can feel the weight of cock on your tongue and you specifically want his in your mouth right now, dragging your tongue down the protruding vein and around the bulbous head.

“We’ll never get back to the camp if you keep staring,” Jeongguk smirks over at you, brushing his hands down his thighs in an obviously teasing manner.

“I want to suck you off,” you confess easily, squeezing your thighs together when you see Jeongguk’s gaze darken and his cock jump.

“Later,” he promises, and you’re practically drooling when he fists his cock, hand tightening on an upward stroke, “we really do need to be going.”

“Then quick jerking off,” you whine petulantly, and Jeongguk has the audacity to laugh at you.

Jeongguk gives you his tunic to wear back to camp as a makeshift dress, keeping a small bit of distance from you, which is much too far considering he had almost fucked you into the ground earlier.  This must be his way of attempting to be respectful, or at least you hope so; just the thought of Jeongguk regretting any of it or being ashamed makes your stomach clench painfully.

Alpha Kim and Yoongi are packing up camp when you arrive.  They give the both of you a knowing look and you blush as you duck your head, realizing they must be able to smell what you two had done.

“Come,” Yoongi smirks, the word intentional, “if we leave now we’ll get home before lunch.”

Home.  It sounds pleasant and right coming from Yoongi.  You’re going home, not just to their pack, but your pack now.

-

There’s a small welcoming ceremony when the four of you finally arrive and you’re overwhelmed by the positivity of the pack.  Their numbers have grown, but it’s not the size of some other shifter packs you’ve seen.

Jeongguk keeps close to you as elder pack members pull you into a hug, welcoming you to your new home and encouraging you to ask for help when you need it.  Shifted pups sniff at you, particularly your stomach which makes you blanch, before yipping and wagging their tails happily at you.

“This is Y/N,” Alpha Kim booms to the crowd, “Y/N selflessly volunteered herself to be Jeongguk’s mate to prevent us from losing him to his feral side.”

The little pack cheers and you blush at their enthusiasm.

“Let us let these future mates have time for themselves,” Alpha Kim turns to you and smiles, “Please, rest.  The journey was long and I’m sure you’re… tired.”

You try not to react, knowing that he’s not talking about the walking.

“I’ll show you to our cabin,” Jeongguk tells you softly, placing a hand on your lower back to lead you away, “Thank you everyone.  We’re happy to be home.”

You smile and wave at everyone as you walk away, Jeongguk leading you towards the center of their pack territory.  It’s a foreign feeling to you, so used to staying out of your tribe that you don’t know what to do knowing you’re going to be living in the thick of it.

“These cabins look so nice,” you comment, looking at the smattering of cabins around you.

“Alphas build cabins before they take a mate,” Jeongguk explains, “Outside of me, none of our alphas are of age yet, so no one is preparing to build.”

“Woah, you built this?  That’s impressive,” you exclaim, as he reaches for the door.

He stops with his hand on the handle, seemingly frozen, before he turns hurriedly to you, “Um… actually, could you stay out here for a moment?”

You furrow your eyebrows, confused, but nod.  Jeongguk gives you a quick, thankful smile, slipping in through the slightest crack so you can’t see inside.

You feel a little foolish standing outside Jeongguk’s cabin - well, your cabin now, as well.  You can hear frantic clattering inside and Jeongguk’s light footsteps as he runs around.  You hear the terrible screech of a window opening, and when you bend around the corner of the cabin you can see what looks like trash being thrown out of it.  It startles a laugh out of you, realizing Jeongguk is cleaning for you, and it’s so endearing.

You wait patiently, knowing Jeongguk wants to make a good impression on you.  Finally, the door creaks open, before Jeongguk pushes it open wide and steps aside.

“Please, come in,” he says, slightly out of breath, and you giggle at him.

“I could have helped you clean,” you tell him, stepping past him and he ducks his head after being caught.

It’s modest, and homey.  There’s a little kitchenette to use when you don’t want to go to the main dining hall, a small sitting area, and a hallway that leads to a small bathroom and bedroom.  There’s a pack bathhouse that they utilize, so the bathroom has a toilet and small wash tub for a quick rub down, and the bedroom is just a pile of furs.

“I know it’s not much but-” Jeongguk seems embarrassed, scratching behind his ear as he avoids your gaze.

“I love it,” you tell him honestly, “it’s very comfortable, very… you.  And I like you.”

The blush that spreads across Jeongguk’s face is satisfying and you grin at him.  You were worried you and Jeongguk were going to have an awkward period of forcing yourselves to get to know each other, but it’s been pretty natural.  There might have been some truth to Jeongguk’s words that you volunteering made it easier for you two to connect, as there’s no expectations for either of you.

“I know Alpha Kim said we have time for ourselves, but there are pack duties I need to get caught up on,” Jeongguk tells you, almost sounding regretful that he has to leave.

“That’s okay, I understand,” you tell him, and you truthfully do, but there’s a small pit of nervousness at the thought of being by yourself as you’re still unsure of the inner workings of the pack, “but um, am I… allowed to be out by myself?”

Jeongguk gives you a strange look, placing his hands on your shoulders and smoothing them down your arms, “You’re part of the pack now and my future mate.  You don’t have to walk on eggshells around us, gods know no one out there will.  Please familiarize yourself with the pack, it’s home now.”

You nod, feeling ashamed about your question, but unable to articulate to Jeongguk how out of place you felt when you were in the midst of your tribe.  Jeongguk hesitates for a moment, swaying back and forth, before apparently coming to his decision and leaning down to press his lips to your forehead.

With a horrifying sense of clarity, you realize you let Jeongguk go down on you before you’ve even properly kissed.  But then again, you two don’t have an exactly conventional relationship.

“I shouldn’t take too long,” he whispers against your skin, seemingly unwilling to go.

“Okay,” you whisper back, smiling when he kisses your forehead again.

As they say, parting is such sweet sorrow.

-

You take the time to introduce yourself to the surrounding cabins, receiving delighted responses.  You feel bad, because there are so many names thrown at you in a short time frame that you don’t remember most of them.  You met Alpha Kim’s son, Namjoon, and two people claiming to be Jeongguk’s best friends, Jimin and Taehyung.  There’s the old lady just a cabin down from yours, who winks rather lasciviously at you when she tells you that the wood the cabins are made with are thick and block sound.  There’s a human girl around your age named Jihyo on the other side of your cabin who is super sweet and invites you in for tea, which you postpone to another afternoon.

You meet another girl on the way back to your cabin, because you are actually really tired, who introduces herself icily as Ina.  Despite her attitude, you bow politely at her.

“So, you’re Jeongguk’s mate,” she says kind of tersely, after having sniffed at the air around you with a look of disdain.

You’re familiar with this kind of attitude, which is very reminiscent of your tribe, so you continue to be polite to her.

“I am!  I’m Y/N,” you introduce yourself, “It’s nice to meet you Ina.”

“I heard Alpha Kim say you volunteered.  I’ve never heard of someone volunteering,” she continues.

“I remember it happening once when I was a kid, but back then-”

“Did you only volunteer because you think he’s hot?” she interjects over you.

Your mouth clicks shut, unsure of how to answer her.  You’re afraid if you say no, she’ll wheedle her way into the depths of your soul and pull your tragic reasoning out.  But you can’t say yes, because not only is it not true, but you’re afraid that she’ll spread an ugly rumor around that you’re shallow.

It’s a conundrum you’re not sure how to approach, but thankfully your saving grace is a smiling older woman placing her hand on your shoulder and deflecting Ina’s question.

“Ina, what’s with the inquisition?  Y/N dear has had a long journey, we have plenty of time to get to know her as a person, and as a mate for Jeongguk.”

Ina looks embarrassed at her interruption and bows to the older woman, with a small sorry before she scurries off.

“I’m sorry, you didn’t have to get involved-” you start but she waves your apology off.

“Don’t worry about it.  And don’t worry about Ina, she’s just feeling slighted right now.  Is it okay if I take up some of your time?  I’d love to have a cup of tea and get to know you,” she smiles so prettily at you, eerily familiar, and you find yourself nodding before you remember you were going to take a nap.  Too late now.

“Would you like to come back to Jeongguk’s cabin?  Well, mine too I guess.  Um, our cabin-” you stumble over yourself, out of your depth as she laughs.  Not at you, but at the obvious confusion you’re having trying to fit yourself into the pack.

“Sure deary, let’s go,” she links her arm with yours, turning you to your cabin.

You spend a pleasant hour with her, apologizing at first for not knowing where Jeongguk keeps his stuff but easily locating a kettle and some tea.  She introduces herself as Minseo and gives you a brief history of the pack, and some of the members, before she conspiratorially asks if you want to hear stories of Jeongguk from when he was a child and you quickly agree.

That’s how Jeongguk finds you, kneeling at the little table with Minseo, tears in your eyes as she recounts a story of a buck naked teenage Jeongguk jumping into a lake on a dare and not evening completing it.  He looks shocked to see you and Minseo giggling against each other, tea refilled and steaming, before it transforms into a serene look.

“Hi mom,” he greets Minseo and you abruptly stop giggling, turning to the woman beside you with wide eyes and a hanging mouth.

She grins sneakily around the rim of her mug, “Ah, baby, you ruined my fun, I hadn’t told her I was your mother yet.”

He rolls his eyes but is still smiling as he leans down to kiss the top of her head, snickering to himself when he sees how shocked you still are as he kisses your cheek.

“Are you staying for dinner?  We’ll be eating here tonight, Omega Kim is bringing us bear as a treat.”

“Omega Kim has always been so sweet on you, you’d think she was your mother and not me,” Minseo pouts and Jeongguk coos.

“Maybe if you were nicer to me,” he singsongs, not even trying to avoid the slap she aims at his shoulder.

“Yah, do you know how long I was in labor with you?” Minseo complains but she’s smiling, looking so incredibly happy as she gazes at him.

“I’m sure you’ll remind me.”

“A whole day, Guk, an entire day of pain and agony and spreading my legs so your grandmother could check just to tell me you were being stubborn and weren’t coming out despite being stretched by a watermelon.”

Jeongguk groans, “Do you have to be so graphic about it?”

“It’s not like it’s something you won’t go through,” she teases and the implication brings a blush to your cheeks.

You and Jeongguk?  Kids?  You’ve barely though past your mating ceremony, but you suspect it’s a normal thing for mother-in-laws to be worried about.

“Besides, with the way our little Y/N smells, it doesn’t seem like you’re all that shy about it,” she says knowingly and you choke on your tea.

“Mom!” Jeongguk groans, avoiding looking at you as he scratches behind his ear, “Please.”

Minseo grins to herself, downing the last of her tea as she stands on creaky knees.  Jeongguk helps her to her feet, you pushing yourself up to follow them to the door.

“I’ll let you two have your time.  Please dear, don’t be a stranger, I love visitors,” she tells you sincerely and despite your mortification that she can somehow smell what you and Jeongguk had been up to, you wholeheartedly agree, “And Jeongguk, eat some more, your cheeks are getting thin.”

“Yes mom,” he tells her dutifully, kissing her cheek before she hugs you goodbye.

You wave at her, watching her bustle down the path, before Jeongguk shuts the door.

“Can everyone smell your cum on me or something?” you ask and Jeongguk bursts out laughing, though you can see a bit of embarrassment lingering on his face.

“Well, kind of, but it’s mainly just me.  You probably can’t smell it because you don’t have the sense for it but each of us have our own, uh, scent.  So earlier when we… ahem,” Jeongguk clears his throat, seemingly unwilling to explicitly mention it and you grin at that, “a lot of my scent would have transferred over to you.  That’s what everyone is referring to.  They’re probably surprised because scenting is kind of an intimate thing and we’ve only just met.”

“Oh,” you hum, “so I smell like you.  That means everyone knows whose mate I am, that I belong to you.”

Jeongguk makes a strangled sound and clears his throat again, “Yes, that you- yes.”

The two of you stand by the door, just staring at each other, before Jeongguk moves away to head to the kitchen.   There aren’t many dishes to do, but Jeongguk does them anyway, and you think he’s doing them just to have something to do.  You decide to help him, sliding silently up beside him and taking a dripping dish from him quietly.

It’s quiet between you two as you work together, Jeongguk washing and you drying them before putting them away.  Finally you ask a question, addressing the difference between you.

“Does it bother you?  That I’m not shifter, so I have no way of scenting you back?” you ask softly.

Jeongguk takes a moment to answer, scrubbing at a spot in the sink that looks stained and unable to come out.

“No,” he finally says, “my mate doesn’t have to be similar to me in order to be a good match for me.  I don’t need someone who has good eyes or good sense of smell,” here’s teasing you here, judging by the tongue he sticks out at you, “or a certain status for me to want to spend my life with them.  I just want someone I’m comfortable with and who makes me happy.”

The answer settles something pleasant in your stomach and you smile shyly at him.

“But…” he hesitates for a moment, “I do want to apologize.”

“For what?” you ask, putting the towel you were drying with back on a rack.

“This morning,” he says softly, “I hope I didn’t… force myself on you or make you feel uncomfortable.  I mean, I enjoyed it, and judging by the sounds you were making you did too, but I never verbally checked with you and that was wrong of me.”

You bump your shoulder against his, before leaning against him, “Jeongguk, it’s okay.  You didn’t force me.  Caught me by surprise, sure, but… it was good.  You were good,” you’re blushing, hiding your face against his tunic sleeve, but you don’t care, “I liked it and I wasn’t exactly quiet about wanting to do more after, was I?  We have a week before our mating ceremony, so maybe we can just… explore until then?”

Alpha Kim had explained that it’s a big tradition within the pack, a little ceremony held in front of the pack, with food and dancing.  Then, you head off to the outskirts of the pack clearing where there’s a mating clearing, an area blessed by the Moon Goddess.  You and Jeongguk aren’t allowed to have penetrative sex until then, a tradition long held in their pack that the first “real” copulation has to be blessed by Her for a good life together.  At least Jeongguk’s already semi fucked you outside, so it won’t feel so foreign actually getting mounted in the open like that.  Besides, it’s not like you can’t do other things.

“You can’t say things like that with a straight face,” Jeongguk groans, “You have no idea how hard it was for me to tell you not to suck me off this morning.”

You laugh, Jeongguk turning you to gently pull you into his arms, “You have no idea how hard it was for me to not just drop to my knees and do it anyway.”

Jeongguk growls and you shiver, Jeongguk holding you close to his chest as he presses a loud kiss behind your ear.  He moves to pepper kisses down your neck, nipping at your pulse point while you scrabble to hold onto his back.

“Jeongguk,” you breathe, “kiss me, please.”

He wastes no time pulling back to press his mouth to yours, swallowing the whine you let out as he pushes you tightly against the counter.  You’re ignoring his semi for the moment, pressed deliciously right up against you, to enjoy the feeling of his mouth practically devouring you.  His tongue feels as good in your mouth as it did in your cunt, brushing against your own and against the back of your teeth hotly.

Jeongguk’s hands can’t decide if they want to grab at your ass, your waist, or your thighs, kneading whatever skin they come in contact with.  At some point they’re in your hair, tugging you away from his mouth with force so he can kiss down the front of your throat to your collarbones, biting and sucking bruises into your tender skin.  All you can do is take it as he forces his hips upward, groaning as he nestles his covered cock right between your pussy lips.  You’re still wearing his tunic as a dress, so you can feel him in his entirety and god is he big.

“You’re gonna drive me crazy,” he growls, your skin stinging from the bite he just left that he soothes with his tongue, “I can smell how wet you are already.  Just wanna go down on you until you cry, finger you until you’ve came so many times you lose count.”

“Jeongguk,” you sob, overwhelmed with how bad you want him, “touch me, please.”

“Come on,” he lets go of your hair to pull you up on his hips by your thighs, “so many things I want to do to you.  You stepped up to that stage with no fear and clear determination, looked me right in the eyes like I can’t bring you to your knees.  Wanted to bend you over and fuck you right then, show your whole tribe the sweet pussy they’d be missing. Fuck, Y/N.”

There are actual tears in your eyes as Jeongguk stomps his way to the bedroom, softly laying you in your pile of furs.  He towers over you on his knees, eyes roving over you as he takes in your flushed face and heaving chest, smirking at the way your thighs rub together.

“Pull your tunic up,” he instructs and your hands quickly fall to grip the hem, “slowly.”

You swallow thickly, taking a few deep breaths as Jeongguk places his hands just below your knees, eyes falling to watch the way your fingers shake.  You pull it up slowly, eyelashes fluttering as you savor the drag of the fabric against your sensitive skin.  Jeongguk hums, fingers creeping up your legs the farther you pull the tunic up, licking his lips when he sees your panties and the wet spot they’re sporting.

You pause when you reach your navel, letting your fingertips trail against your skin as the goosebumps erupt.

“So pretty, baby,” Jeongguk breathes, the furs shifting under his knees as he leans over you more, abs quivering from exertion, “What a show, keep going.”

You whimper a little, placing your hands flat against your stomach as you continue to push the tunic up, feeling yourself up.  Your hands slide up your sides causing you to shy away from the ticklish touch and your fingers brush just under your breasts.  You jolt at the feeling of Jeongguk’s tongue against your stomach, hands flying down to grip at his hair.

“Did I say you could stop?” he growls, biting softly at your skin, tongue hot and wet, “Show me those tits, baby.”

“Jeongguk,” you moan, arching your back as you push the tunic up higher, your exposed nipples immediately hardening in the cold air, “feels good.”

“Take it off,” he commands and you listen, struggling to pull the tunic over your head while laying down since he won’t move back to let you sit up.

“Touch them,” he orders and you pinch your nipples softly, moaning louder, “Mmm, harder.”

You listen to him, pinching harder as he travels up your torso, leaving little lovebites in his wake.

“‘M gonna fuck these pretty tits one day,” he tells you, licking the valley between your breasts, before he bites rather harshly at your right breast, his hand swamping your own on your left breast.

He massages the left as he wraps his mouth around the right, sucking harshly and biting at your sensitive skin.

“Guk,” you sob, one hand trapped under his and the other gripping onto his bicep, “your mouth, I- fuck!”

Jeongguk grins, nipple tight between his teeth as he tugs, letting it go with a wet smack, “Touch your pussy baby, just a little.  Show me how wet you are for me.”

You’re soaked.  Without even touching yourself you can feel the way your panties cling to your skin.  Is it always going to be like this with Jeongguk?  You sure fucking hope so.

Jeongguk lets go of your breast to plant his hand into the furs beside your head, giving himself leverage as he switches from kissing your chest to marking your neck.  You squirm as his body heat settles over you, so close to touching you but so far away.  His chest brushes against yours, your nipples rubbing against his sweaty skin as his hair brushes against your cheek.  You whine into his ear as you massage the junction of your thighs, canting your hips up to try and brush against the front of him.

“Just a little,” he reminds, voice raspy against the shell of your ear, biting gently on your earlobe, “Touch yourself through your panties first, tell me how wet you are.”

You breathlessly follow his instructions, letting your fingers wander from the apex of your thighs to the top of your mound.  Your heart is beating erratically as you massage it slowly, so close to your wetness but teasing yourself just a little more.  Jeongguk has the perfect vantage part from your neck to watch your hands work, chest rumbling with the first touch of your fingertips against your clit, acting like he feels it just as acutely as you do.

“Oh,” you breathe out, Jeongguk’s teeth sinking in behind your ear.

“Tell me,” he growls, “Tell me how you feel.”

“So wet,” you immediately concede, brushing your fingers down to rub against your entrance where your wettest, “I want you so bad Jeongguk, I’m aching for you.”

Your pussy makes an audible sound as you rub your fingers against the fabric of your panties.

“Pull them down, just a bit,” his voice is rough as he pants, eyes trained on your fingers as he loses sight of them exploring between your lips, “Wanna smell you.”

You shimmy them down slowly, body wiggling under Jeongguk’s as you get them down just far enough for you to work with.  Jeongguk’s groan is low as your smell hits him and he licks a stripe up your neck.

“Put a finger in.”

You don’t disobey him, breaching your walls with just one like you’ve been told.  You’re so wet you can barely feel it and you whine in dissatisfaction.

“One not enough for your greedy pussy?” he sneers, raising himself onto his haunches to get a better look at what you’ve put on display, “Two, then, but only two.”

You work a second one in and the stretch is nice, but nowhere near filling.  Jeongguk watches the push and pull of your fingers, crossing his arms over his chest as he casually observes you.  It’s so apathetic you cry out, willing him to do something, but he doesn’t.  He lets you finger yourself for a few minutes, watching your drip onto the pile of furs beneath you as he breathes steadily.  The only real way you can tell he’s affected is by the way his nostrils are flaring and how dilated his pupils are.

“Feel good?” he finally asks.

“You’d feel better,” is your instant answer and he seems pleased, giving you a smug smirk as he shrugs his top off, “Could touch me so much better, your fingers are-are thicker and longer and-”

Jeongguk leans down to press a kiss to the center of your sternum, hands raising to grip your hips tight.

“Fuck, baby, you smell fantastic,” he groans, tongue slithering out as he trails down, biting and sucking as he goes, “Tasted so good on my tongue, can’t wait to eat you out again.”

“Please,” you beg, you whimper, you plead, “please touch me, Guk.”

“Okay, baby, since you’ve asked so nicely,” his hands slide down your hips and around your thighs, settling his shoulders between your legs.  You keen at the stretch, cool air brushing against your wet pussy as Jeongguk takes a moment to watch your fingers at eye level.

“Show me how wet you are,” his voice has dropped, tone low and rough and you exhale hard through your nose as you do as he asks, scissoring your fingers as you pull them out so he can see how thoroughly coated they are, “Fuck yeah…”

Despite the gruffness of his voice, his hands are gentle as he takes your wrist in his hands and presses them into the bed.  Jeongguk is so utterly focused on your pussy, using his thumbs to spread your lips apart as he takes in a deep breath.  It’s a little embarrassing for you, but the unrestrained moan he lets out overpowers anything your feeling as you squirm in his hold.

“I can’t wait any longer,” he mutters to himself you think, before he all but attacks your pussy with his tongue.

“Guk!”

He’s vicious, tongue laving from top to bottom as he eats you out, basically swallowing you whole.  You’ve stretched yourself enough from your two fingers that his slip in easily, and he’s quick to push it to three, working them in tandem with his tongue.

You’re practically vibrating beneath Jeongguk, physically unable to keep your mouth closed as you let him know just how good it feels.  You’re so worked up you can feel your orgasm approaching fast, your thighs beginning to shake the closer it gets.

“Oh, cumming, I’m-” you try to speak but you feel like you’re about to swallow your tongue.

Just as you feel like you’re about to tumble over the precipice, just when you can taste it in your mouth, Jeongguk rips himself away from you and your orgasm comes to a screeching halt.

“No, nonono,” you cry, frustration tears budding in the corner of your eyes as you reach out to a panting Jeongguk, “Why did you-!”

“Shh, it’s okay baby, just relax,” he coos, leaning down to press kisses into your thighs as he brushes his hands lovingly up your sides, “calm down for me, yeah?”

You pout down at him, wiping at your eyes as you huff.

“Just trust me, okay?” he smiles cutely at you, like that makes it feel better, as he softly buries his tongue back into you.

You want to be mad because you were so close, but his tongue calms you down and you sink back into the feeling.  Jeongguk seems eager to get back at it and you sigh as the feeling builds back up.  He alternates between sticking his tongue in you and thumbing your clit and dredging his fingers against your walls as he sucks on your clit like a man starved.

It doesn’t take long for you to feel the beginnings of your orgasm approaching and you decide to keep it to yourself.  But Jeongguk must pick up on the tells of your breath quickening and your hands becoming restless because just as you’re about to tip over the edge again Jeongguk pulls away with a wet smack.

“No!” your hands fly up to cover your face because you’re actually crying this time, tears of frustration slipping down your temples into your hairline.

“Pretty girl,” Jeongguk kisses his way up your body, nosing at your ear as he smooths a hand through your hair, “Take a deep breath for me.”

You sniffle into his shoulder, smacking his bicep weakly as you cling onto him, “Why are you being such a dick?  I just wanna cum.”

“I know you do,” he kisses the tip of your nose, before pressing a smothering kiss to your mouth, “And you will, it’ll feel good, I promise.”

“How am I supposed to know if you keep stopping!” you complain and he laughs into your skin as he settles between your legs again.

Jeongguk presses apologetic kisses to your pussy, humming as he slips his tongue up and around your clit as he eases his fingers back in.

“Sorry baby, forgive me?” he grins devilishly at you and you can’t answer, eyes already starting to roll from how deprived you feel.

“Please no more teasing,” you whimper, threading shaky fingers through Jeongguk’s hair, “I don’t think I can take any more.”

“Okay pretty,” he acquices, and you can see the physical change in him, the way his tongue turns pointed and the way his fingers stiffen inside you, “I’ll let you cum.”

You almost wish you had let him do as he pleased, because he works you up to a quick orgasm and tongues you through it, wrapping a hand around your waist to hold you to the bed as you squirm and twitch and gasp your way through it until you’re finished but he… doesn’t stop.

“G-Guk, that’s-” too much, but the words die in your throat as he merely buries his face farther in your pussy, fingers taken to stroking the upper bounds of your walls to keep them lodged up to his knuckles.

“You wanted to cum,” he tells you darkly, mouthful of pussy, “So cum.”

“I did,” you squawk, futilely trying to close your legs around his head, but he easily holds them open, “I c-can’t!  Not again!”

“You will,” he tells you simply before he dives back in.

And you do.  Two more times, the feeling not as all encompassing but just as intense, leaving you slack jawed and with an aching back from how you arch and shy away from his touch.  Your body melts into the furs when his fingers finally retract from inside you, tongue leaving your clit numb and sore.

“Such a good girl, make so many pretty sounds for me,” Jeongguk murmurs, massaging your hips as he lays beside you, “Did so well for me, baby.  Gimme a kiss.”

Your mouth barely works but you kiss him, Jeongguk leaning his torso over yours to make it easier on you.

“You’re still hard,” you note, glancing down to see the bulge in his pants, hidden away from you for too long.

“It’s okay, don’t worry about it,” he tells you but you whine.

“Wanna suck you off, been thinking about it all day,” you admit and he makes a low sound in the back of his throat.

“Yeah?  Wanna suck your alpha off?  Wanna make me feel good?” he asks, voice low and soothing as you push yourself down his body, bringing his pants with you.

You groan at the feel of him, cock sticky with your arousal.  You don’t care about that, and don’t hesitate to suck on his head, hand moving down to play with his balls and twist at the base where you know a knot is waiting for you.  You want it in you so bad you whine around his cock, pushing down so you can suck on more of him, tucking your teeth behind your lips so you didn’t nick him.

Jeongguk groans above you, hands carding through your hair to hold it back, watching your mouth work him over enthusiastically, spit dribbling from the corner of your mouth.

“Ah, baby, just like that,” he moans, giving a tentative thrust of his hips that you gag around, “So eager.”

Jeongguk is big, and most of his cock doesn’t fit in your mouth, so you happily suck what you can and fist the rest of him.  He feels as good in your mouth as you expected him to, heavy against your tongue and the taste heady.  You pull off to breathe, jaw aching from the girth of Jeongguk’s cock, and he coos as you gasp for air.

“So good baby, so close, just a little more, yeah?  Gonna cum down that throat of yours, gonna feel so good, mmm,” he moans as you swallow him back down, fighting through your need to gag to hold your mouth around him and just suck, twisting your hands around the rest of him, “Y/N.”

You whine as Jeongguk reaches down to hold your head steady, before catching on that he wants to fuck your mouth.  You moan around him, making sure to keep your teeth hidden as you tongue at the head each time he thrusts in.

“Ah, yes, yes, gonna cum,” Jeongguk growls, leaning up on an elbow to watch your face intently as you glance up at him, “Hnng!”

There’s so much cum and you try to swallow as much as you can, but you have to pull off to breathe and a few splatters land on your cheek and jaw.  You continue to jerk him through it and Jeongguk hisses through his teeth at the sensitivity, baring his neck as he lets you work his cock roughly before he unceremoniously pulls you up to him to shove his tongue in your mouth.

You laugh breathlessly as you fall against him, trying to keep up.

“You’re insatiable,” you condemn and he grins against the column of your throat.

“You just make me feel so good, sound so pretty for me,” he tells you, “Want to fuck you so bad.”

You can’t help the way you clench your legs together and Jeongguk can feel the muscle movement from where you’re settled on his lap, calming down together.

“Soon,” he promises, running his hands up your back as you relax against him, heart beat slowly returning to normal, “Let’s just enjoy yourselves, like you said.” 

-

You’re humming to yourself as you help prepare meat in the dining hall.  Some of the pack members had gone on a hunt the day before and the second run had gone out this morning.  They were trying to stock up on their own food, as well as add to the supplies they were going to trade to your tribe for the Lottery.  Well, your old tribe.

Jeongguk had gone out on the second run and he had been excited this morning.  Jeongguk told you he liked hunting more for the physical aspect than the actual hunting part, though he did disclose that one of his favorite memories was taking down an elk all by himself.  He promised to find a rabbit, which was meat you really liked, so you two could have dinner in your cabin and you found the gesture incredibly sweet.

However, when Minseo rushes into the preparation room, eyes wide and chest heaving, your heart drops into your stomach.  The chatter from the other pack members dies down quickly, as you all zero in on the absolute panic on Minseo’s face.

“Minseo what’s-”

“It’s Jeongguk,” she whispers, reaching a shaky hand to you, “Jeongguk’s hurt, we have to go.”

You hear the words, can see Jeongguk bleeding in your mind’s eye, but you can’t make your feet move.  Jeongguk’s hurt.  Your future mate is hurt and all you can think is the worst, hand tightening around the knife in your hand.

“Y/N, dear, it’s okay,” Minseo gently takes the knife from you, laying it on the table as your breathing shortens, “C’mon, he’s in the healing hut, let’s go see him.”

Minseo holds you close to her as the two of you sprint over to the healing hut.  The closer you get the louder it becomes and you two see the rest of the second run standing around outside, debriefing Alpha Kim.  Some of them are already bandaged up, favoring legs and holding limp arms to their chests.  You can only hope Jeongguk made it out with as minor injuries.

Alpha Kim notices you and Minseo drawing closer and beckons you into the hut, “He’s okay, he’s inside.  He’s asked for you, go see him.”

You quickly nod at him, bounding up the stairs and holding your breath as you push the door open.

The first thing you notice is how disheveled Jeongguk’s hair is, face dirty and gaunt and a small frown marring his face.  The second thing you notice is the bandage wrapped around the entirety of his left arm, stained red in some spots.  The third and last thing you notice is Ina curled up in Jeongguk’s lap, sobbing.

They haven’t noticed you and Minseo yet, the door opening too soft to be heard over the sound of Ina’s crying.  You go to take a step forward and announce your presence, but Minseo places a firm hand on your shoulder and shakes her head, motioning for you to be quiet.  You want to protest, to let them know you’re here, but realize Ina is talking as she cries.

“Why did you have to choose her?” she asks, hands clutching at Jeongguk’s pants, face hidden, “Why did you have to step out of the pack?”

Jeongguk sighs softly, a light hand placed on the back of her head as he tries to console her, “Ina, we talked about this…”

“No, you talked about it,” she vehemently denies, “You decided we weren’t a match and you decided to end it.  I wanted to work through it and stay together.”

Together?  You should have known from the way Ina had approached you and the way she talked to you that there had been something between them.

“I could have made you so happy,” she whispers, pulling away to look up at him.  Your heart breaks for her.

“Ina, I wouldn’t have been happy if I had stayed,” he breaks it to her in a gentle voice.

“You never even gave us a chance!” she rips herself away from him, standing up and turning so quickly that you barely have a chance to prepare for when your eyes meet

Ina’s nostrils flare dangerously but you meet her stare head on.  Jeongguk stands up behind her, ready to step in, but you shake your head at him.  You and her were going to have to talk it out one day, better now when everyone can bare witness.

“You’ll never take away the fact that I was his first,” she declares and you have to stop yourself from rolling your eyes at her childish attack.  You wanted to be civil, seeing as how you’re in the same pack now, but she’s made it clear she has no intentions of ever treating you as an equal.

“Well, we all make mistakes,” you shrug.  You can’t deny the little trill of fear that runs down your spine when her eyes narrow and her hands clench.

“You bitch-”

“Ina,” Jeongguk growls behind her, voice low and authoritative, “Don’t talk to her like that.  I didn’t “choose” Y/N; if she hadn’t volunteered it would have been whoever was drawn from the Lottery.  I’m sorry but that’s the truth.”

Ina’s face twists and she turns her head away for a moment before she charges forward.  Your eyes widen, bracing yourself for impact, but Minseo guides you away from the door to let her barrel out of it.

It’s quiet for a few moments, before Jeongguk sighs heavily and sits back on his medical cot.   His movement snaps you back into the moment and you take a small step towards him, causing him to raise his head to look at you.

Jeongguk looks exhausted as he simply stares at you for a moment, before he raises his arms in welcoming and you fall into him.  You wrap your arms around his shoulders, cradling his head to your chest as the tension in your body floods out of you.  You’re not surprised to find that a few tears fall, utterly relieved to see and feel that Jeongguk is only minorly injured.

“Y/N,” Jeongguk says tiredly, breath washing across your skin, “I’m sorry you had to see that.”

You shake your head, kissing his crown as you rub your fingers against the back of his neck, “I don’t care about Ina right now, are you okay?”

Jeongguk lets out a deep sigh again, the arms he had tightly wrapped around you growing limp, “So tired.”

“What happened?” you asked softly, “How did you get hurt?”

“Bear,” he says gruffly, “Took us by surprise.  Snagged m’arm with its claws.  Had’ta flee.”

His words are starting to slur and you squeeze him to you for a long moment before you slowly ease him back down onto the cot.  Jeongguk doesn’t fight against you, nuzzling against the hand you lay on his cheek as he gets comfortable.

“Rest now,” you kiss his cheek and his eyelashes flutter closed, “You’re okay.”

You watch his face even out as he falls asleep, the furrow between his eyebrows slowly smoothing.  When you turn around, you see Minseo watching the two of you with soft eyes and a softer smile.

She simply says, “Let’s let him rest.  We’ll prepare him dinner and you can deliver it later.”

“That sounds good.”

There’s quiet between the two of you as you head back to the dining hall before Minseo breaks it, “He was wrong, you know.”

“Jeongguk?” you question and she nods, “About what?”

“He says he didn’t choose you, but he’s wrong.”

“How so?” you ask, because you very plainly volunteered, there was no choosing on his end.

Minseo smiles serenely up at the clear blue sky, closing her eyes against the sunlight, “He chose you the moment you stepped forward.”

-

“I don’t think this is a good idea,” Jeongguk frowns at you, watching you change into heavier clothes.

You roll your eyes, completely exasperated with him, “I don’t care what you think, I want to do this.”

You pull a thick cloak around you, cinching it around your neck as you face him.  He’s tonguing his cheek, staring intensely at the wall as he thinks.  The two of you have been arguing about this for the past half hour, the both of you adamant on opposite stances.

“You don’t know the area well enough,” he finally settles on, “There are other pack members who would be more useful on this supply run.”

You pause in lacing your boots up, slowly and carefully facing Jeongguk as he seems to realize the implications behind his words.

“You think I’m useless?” you ask in an even tone and he takes a step towards you before you even finish.

“That’s not what I meant and you know it,” he snaps, as you glare at him and shove past him.  He snags your arm to turn you to him before you can leave the bedroom, “I just meant-”

“I know what you just meant,” you rip your arm from his grasp, continuing down the hallway, “I can’t just be your bitch forever Jeongguk, I have to be of some use to the pack.”

“No one thinks-!” Jeongguk is hurrying after you as you head towards the front door, but you’re done listening.

“I’m going whether you like it or not,” you tell him fiercely, and he stands kind of dumbly in place, eyes wide and chest heaving, “I’ll be back tomorrow.”

“Y/N!” he calls out, but the only answer he gets is the slamming of your front door in his face.

When Alpha Kim had approached you about accompanying some pack members on a supply run, you had immediately said yes.  You’d only been with the pack for a few days but you felt like a burden, so you tried to pitch in wherever you could: clothes mending, laundry, food prep, farming.

This supply run would give you a chance to get to know some of the pack members a little better and the surrounding area as well.  You were excited about it, and it hurt your feelings a little when you had told Jeongguk and his response had been a shake of his head.

“No, I don’t think you should go,” he had said, casually, turning away from you like the conversation was over.

He seemed to think that because he was an alpha, what he said went, but you were your own person and you had already decided you were going on the supply run; you had told Jeongguk out of courtesy, not permission.  So you had simply left Jeongguk to his lunch and went to pack some of your belongings before you really began arguing, before he called you useless.

Now, you’re approaching the group gathered outside Yoongi’s cabin, the alpha the leader of this particular run.

“Ah, Y/N, good, you’re here.  That should be everyone, are we ready to set out?” his voice is quiet but commanding, and your little group quiets down as they nod their agreement.

You don’t look back as you follow the group out to the edge of your pack boundary line and across it, chatting with the human girl Jihyo.  You two have spent some time together since you’ve arrived and you feel better about not being the only human on the run.

Yoongi leads your group in his shifted form, nose to the ground as other shifted members flank the sides.  You dislike the idea of the shifters circling around you humans like you need protection, but considering you still don’t know the area, you don’t fight against it.  You’re sure they’re just being extra careful with you as well, considering how new you are.

You and Jihyo collect some simple and easy herbs as you walk.  There’s a deer den the group is headed to and there’s a black berry patch Jihyo had mentioned that was near it.  You’re expected to reach a camping spot by sun down, head into the deer den to catch them by surprise in the early morning, swing by the berry patch, and reach home just before dinner.  You hope that it’ll give you and Jeongguk enough time to calm down after your little spat to talk it through.

Yoongi stops suddenly in front of you, one of the pack members stumbling into him as he raises his nose to sniff quickly at the air, tail stiff with alert.  The others seem to realize something’s amiss as they crowd you and Jihyo in between them, watching the tree line for whatever it is Yoongi’s smelling.

Except Yoongi lets out an amused huff before he shifts back, turning to face the way your group had just come from.

“You might as well come out of hiding, I can smell you,” he calls out and you look where he’s looking, but with your diminished senses you can’t see anything.

Until a black body shifts its way between some bushes, head held high as he walks to you.  You roll your eyes and turn away from Jeongguk as he joins your group, padding his way up to Yoongi, ears and tail lowered in respect.

“Weren’t you attacked by a bear a two days ago?  Should you really be following us?” Yoongi asks rhetorically, before he shifts back.

Yoongi barely gives any of you time to adjust to the new addition to your group, sticking his nose back to the ground as he continues to follow the trail.

Jeongguk turns his head to look back at you but you push forward with Yoongi, refusing to spare him a glance.  You can feel your blood boiling. How dare he follow you like you’re some little girl who needs her father to watch over her.

Jeongguk doesn’t approach you as you and Jihyo continue to collect easy supplies as you walk.  You’re going a little slower than you expected, but the way the pack does things is different than you’re used to.

It becomes evident what’s given Yoongi some concern when he pauses over a dark splatter against a tree trunk, growling lowly in his throat as he sniffs at it.

“That’s… blood,” Jihyo whispers nervously by your side, subconsciously reaching down for your hand in search of comfort.

Jeongguk nears Yoongi and they seem to have a quick conversation if the look they share is anything to go by.  You’re surprised to see them motion for your group to head into the trees, off the established path.  One of the unshifted members behind you explains what’s happening when they sense your hesitation.

“It must be another shifter’s blood if Yoongi’s taking us into cover.  He must not be sure what’s hurt it,” he says, a shifter named Minho, “It looks like old blood though, so it’s probably more a precaution than anything.”

You nod and when you face forward, you can see Jeongguk is looking at you over his shoulder.  You give him a quick, reassuring smile and he accepts it, turning back to help beat down the grass for your group to walk through easier.

Yoongi seems satisfied with your cover after a few hours, shifting back to put a halt to the group.

“We’ll bed down here for the night,” Yoongi announces, the treetops hiding the waning sunlight, “We’re a little farther from the deer den than I would have preferred, but we’re capable and can make do.  I know there’s a little lake nearby where we can get some fish for extra food and wash up really quick, which we’ll do in shifts.  Minho, help me gather some wood.  Seulgi, Jeongguk, you head to the lake-”

“Wait, that’ll leave Y/N and Jihyo by themselves,” Jeongguk quickly interjects, meeting the withering glare Yoongi sends him head on.

“Your point?”

“W-Well, someone should stay with them, shouldn’t they?  Seulgi can handle fishing by herself, I’ll-”

“The two of you will catch more fish faster than just Seulgi by herself,” Yoongi counteracts, before his voice turns teasing, borderline mocking, “What’s the matter, Jeongguk?  Don’t trust your mate by herself?”

“That’s not-!” Jeongguk splutters and you snort, crossing your arms.

“Then Seulgi and you will gather the fish.  You should remember where the lake is, I won’t insult you by holding your hand and walking you to it.”

Jeongguk’s face turns red and he glowers, Seulgi nudging his shoulder good naturedly as they turn away.  Jeongguk does shoot you one last glance but you ignore him again, upset with his response to this whole situation.

“C’mon, let’s start setting up camp,” Jihyo says and you snap back to it, nodding as the two of you get to work.

Quickly, the two of you pat the ground down enough that you’ll be able to easily contain and control your small bonfire.  Jihyo shyly asks if she can set her sleeping pad near yours and you feel your heart constrict in a pleasant manner, pulling yours closer to hers in answer.  You like Jihyo and you hope that your friendship with her only grows.

“Jeongguk’s been acting kind of weird today,” she observes, almost hesitantly, like she’s afraid to cross any boundaries.

You sigh as the two of you settle in to wait for everyone to get back.

“Yeah, we had a fight this morning about this supply run.  We’ll be okay, I’m just upset with how much it seems like he doesn’t trust me.  I know we’ve known each other for less than a week, but all this seems completely uncalled for.  He followed me out here for god’s sake.”

Jihyo nods, taking it what you’re saying and thinking it over, before she says, “I have no advice, sorry.”

You laugh, patting her hand as you smile, “It’s okay.  It’s something Jeongguk and I have to figure out for ourselves.”

“For what it’s worth, it seems to me like he’s just worried about you; I’ve only known Jeongguk a few years and he’s always been kind of reserved and off on his own, but whenever you’re around he always seems to be a little more present and engaged.”

You sigh, running a hand through your hair, and she smiles reassuringly at you, as she says, “Maybe try and talk to him tonight, before bed.  You’re not supposed to go to bed angry, right?”

You stand as Minho and Yoongi breach your little clearing, arms loaded with more firewood than is probably necessary for a night, but it’ll be good to have as a precaution.  You’re the most adept at starting a fire, having had to use one everyday to heat your little hut in your old tribe and whenever you wanted to eat, so you have it going in no time at all.

The four of you sit and talk as you wait for Jeongguk and Seulgi to get back, and it takes longer than you were expecting.  You’re not sure how far this lake is but it can’t be that far and Jeongguk’s not enough of an idiot to have gotten lost.  You briefly think about the dried shifter blood and start to worry that whatever got it had got them.  Yoongi must detect the change in your heart rate because he shoots you a comforting smile.

The relief you feel when they finally come back, sacks loaded with fish, is overtaken by surprise when Jeongguk unceremoniously dumps a large and slimy catfish in your lap with a wet plop.

“I caught this for you,” he simply says, turning away immediately to hand his sack to Yoongi so they can start gutting the contents.

You stare at the fish in your lap for a moment, it’s dead beady eye staring back at you as you start to smile.  Even in the midst of a fight he’d been thinking of you and you shake your head, pulling a knife out of your belt to gut and debone it.

You wonder if, as you bed down for the night, Jeongguk is going to sleep beside you.  You’ve gotten used to sharing space with him the past few days and your sleeping pad feels empty without him.  He and Yoongi are talking on the other side of the smoldering fire, probably a plan for the sneak attack on the deer in the morning, and he looks handsome in the firelight.  His jaw is drawn tight, chewing on his lip as the two of them strategize, arms crossed over his chest with his biceps flexing as he shifts his weight from foot to foot.  He’s handsome, you’ll never deny that, and what makes him even more attractive is the way he cares, especially about others.  Especially about you.

You’re less mad at him now then you were earlier, but you know it’s something the two of you still have to discuss; he needs to realize that you are an individual and you get to make your own decisions, whether he agrees with them or not.  But you realize he was right in being worried about you going on the run in the first place, unfamiliar with the pack and the area. You’ll let him know that you’ll listen to him more next time if he’s willing to do the same.

Jeongguk suddenly glances over at you and you don’t shy away from his gaze, even if your heart does jump with surprise.  You scoot back on your pad a little to pat the space in front of you and he smiles, a small genuine one, before he motions you to wait a few more minutes.  You’re content with that, letting yourself relax as you watch him finish up his conversation, before he eagerly pads his way over to you.

“Gukkie,” you smile at him as he settles right beside you, wrapping an arm around your waist to haul you into him.

“Hey, pretty girl,” he greets, leaning in to kiss you softly, at odds with the way he tightly holds you close to him.

“The fish was good,” you tell him and he grins happily at you.

“Seulgi was getting mad at how long I was taking, but when I saw it I knew I wanted to get it for you,” he admits and you laugh at him.

“There were plenty of other catfish you could have caught,” Seulgi grumpily snaps at him, still awake and sitting by the fire even though her eyes are starting to droop, “It didn’t have to be that particular one.”

He ignores her and you poke his side for it, Jeongguk just burying his face in your shoulder.  You smooth a hand down his back, bunching his tunic top in your hands as you keep him close, breathing in his comforting scent as your body melts into him.  He shifts so the two of you are a little more comfortable, one of his arms sliding under your head as a makeshift pillow while one of your legs slides between his.

“Are we okay?” he whispers to you, the chatter of the last few pack members serving as quiet background noise.  You think you can hear Jihyo snoring, enhanced by the few crickets you guys haven’t scared away.

“I still want to calmly discuss it and not just accept your bribe of fish-”

“-it wasn’t a bribe-” he sulks.

“-but I get it,” you tell him gently, laying your free hand on his cheek.  He kisses your palm as you continue, “we should’ve talked it out more before I stormed off and you decided it was necessary to crash the party.”

Jeongguk has the decency to look sheepish, “Sorry I just- sorry.  Yoongi’s right, I should trust you more.  I just worry about you, being new to the pack and the area.  I trust the members with my life but if something happened to you on this run and I wasn’t here to protect you, I’d never forgive myself.”

“You won’t always be able to protect me,” you gently admonish him.

Jeongguk heaves out a heavy sigh, like it pains him to admit, “I know.  I’m sorry.”

“Me too,” you tell him, “I should have listened to your concerns seriously before I got mad.  It’s just… hard for me to listen to others. It’s been just me for so long, I’m not used to other people caring for me.”

“Sounds like we both have some things we need to work on,” Jeongguk notes and you smile into his neck.

“Together?” you whisper, glancing up at him.

“Together,” he smiles before he kisses you.

“Ugh, get a room,” Yoongi gags from the other side of the bonfire, and you and Jeongguk giggle into each other.

-

You and Jeongguk are incredibly sexually compatible, that much is obvious, but more than that, you find that you genuinely enjoy being around him.  Time and time again, you find the two simply together and enjoying each other’s presence, not just each other’s bodies.

It’s nice.  A comfortable life with someone you genuinely enjoy being around and someone you didn’t just settle for is not something you’d ever have.  Jeongguk makes you laugh until your stomach hurts, tears clinging to the corner of your eyes.  He makes you cry with soft stories of his childhood, recounting precious memories with his parents and grandparents, about friends that have come and gone.

It’s amazing.  He’s amazing.  You keep waiting for the other shoe to drop, for something to pop this bubble that you’ve been living in for the past few days, but it doesn’t come.  You don’t expect your life with Jeongguk to always be this easy, but you know that if you two continue to work together like you’ve been, you’ll be able to overcome anything.

“Our ceremony is in a few days,” Jeongguk tells you two mornings before your ceremony, curled around you with your head resting on his bicep.

He’s scratching at your scalp, and you’ve noticed these last couple of days that he’s lost most of his feral features.  His nails are short and blunt, and his fangs have retracted to match the rest of his teeth. You’ve learned that it wasn’t so much that Jeongguk’s feral transformation that made him lose his communication skills, but that he’s fairly reserved most of the time naturally.  It doesn’t bother you; you like watching Jeongguk just exist in the space around him, filling it entirely with his very being.

“I know,” you whisper, brushing the lightest touch against the newly started ink on his chest.  It’s part of the ceremony, Jeongguk having earned the right to bear the pack’s insignia, and it’ll be completed by the time you say your mating vows.

“Are you nervous?” he asks, using the leverage he has in your hair to tilt your head back, staring intensely down at you, “Are you regretting your decision?”

“No,” you tell him immediately, because you don’t, “there are some things I regret in life, but you’ll never be one of them.  But yes… I am nervous.  I don’t know why though.”

He smiles sweetly at you, kissing you even sweeter.

“I can’t wait,” he says honestly, smattering kisses across your face as he tries to pull you closer, though there’s miniscule space between you two already, “getting to do this with you for the rest of my life… it sounds almost too good to be true.”

You bury your face in his chest and he lets you, wrapping his arms tightly around you as he pins you to the furs.

“You’re sappy,” you mumble into his chest and he hums, not denying it, “but the rest of our lives has a nice ring to it.”

The only thing that could potentially put a damper on your mood is Ina, who has been nothing but rude and condescending to you.  You ignore her, for the most part, and don’t mention anything to Jeongguk because it’s not worth a second thought.  Jeongguk is your mate now and it’s something she’ll just have to accept.

Jeongguk’s friends, Jimin and Taehyung, are really sweet to you, and help you prepare for your ceremony considering your lack of friends.  But you think you can begin calling them friends of your own as they help rub oil into your skin, specifically around your neck, to help loosen and slightly numb it to prepare it for your mating bite.  They also help you make a necklace for Jeongguk, your own symbol of possession considering you can’t return his bite.

The night before your ceremony, you’re whisked away from Jeongguk, Minseo giggling at the outrage on his face.

“It’s bad luck to see your mate before the ceremony, Y/N’s gonna have to stay with me tonight,” she lies and you cackle as Jeongguk whines at her, uncaring of the fact that he’s amidst his pack in the dining hall.

Some of the older women coo at him as he stands, stalking towards the two of you as Minseo drags you around.  The rest of the pack joins in on the fun, pulling you around the hall as they block Jeongguk’s attempts from getting to you.  The both of you laugh as you play along, you hiding behind people as Jeongguk wrestles pups to the ground, acting like they’re his biggest obstacle.

“I’ll never get to her this way!” Jeongguk proclaims, letting one of the pups gain the upper hand and put him in a rather strong headlock for someone his size, “You’ll never take her from me!”

You giggle as Minseo comes around to collect you, pulling you out from behind a sweet omega named Taeyeon, tucking some hair behind your ear as she slides a clip into your hand.

You grip it tightly as she leans into you, whispering, “This was my mother’s.  It would… mean a lot to me if you wore it during your ceremony tomorrow.  Mother always wanted to see Jeongguk’s mating ceremony and I think she would have loved you.”

It brings tears into your eyes and you hug her tightly, as the crowd around you continues to laugh and play loudly.

“Thank you,” you cry.

Minseo kisses your cheek, keeping you close to her as she says, “Out of any daughter I could have received, I thank the gods it’s someone like you.  I know you and Jeongguk will be happy together.”

Minseo is going to have you flat out sobbing in a few moments as she pulls away to smooth your hair down before she steps back.  You wipe hastily at your eyes, pocketing the clip safe and secure in your pants.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” she tells you.

You go to answer, but familiar arms wrap around your waist and lift you up.  You squeal loudly, the crowd bursting into cheers as Jeongguk spins you, grin becoming visible as he shifts you until he has an arm around your back and under your knees, both your arms around his neck.

“Gotcha,” he’s smug, like it was actually a challenge to get to you.

“Oh no, whatever shall I do?” you sarcastically intone, pressing the back of your hand dramatically to your forehead, “It looks like the big bad wolf has caught me.”

“I’d be careful, little lamb; this big bad wolf has quite the appetite and it seems he’s caught something particularly tasty,” he licks his lips, winking at you, and there are whistles from the crowd.

You snicker but quickly school your features, fluttering your eyelashes at him as you say, “I wonder what I could possibly offer in exchange for my life?”

Jeongguk purses his lips, pretending to think, before he says, “I suppose I could spare you.  In exchange, you have to promise yourself to me.”

“Oh?  That’s a steep price,” you tease, biting your lip as Jeongguk growls a little at you, “Is it worth it, do you think?”

You hear a few people in the crowd shout out yes! and you grin at Jeongguk as he says, “You promise yourself to me, and I in turn promise to devote myself to you until I die.”

“I get to keep my life and receive a promise of my own?  Seems grossly unfair to me.  How about I tack on my own promise of devotion?”

Jeongguk doesn’t respond, just hoists you up a little farther so his aim is more on point when he kisses you hotly.  The crowd around you cheers the two of you on and you can’t quite hide the smile you’re sporting in the kiss, no matter how hard Jeongguk tries to eat it up.

-

The day of your ceremony, Minseo does steal you away from Jeongguk, practically shaking with excitement that she gets to help you dress.

Your dress is made of light cotton, something easy to slip in and out of, both for the ease of the party and the copulation.  Minseo rubs a sparkly powder made from fern flowers, flowers thought to have been blessed by the Moon Goddess, into your hair.  She gives you a watery grin when you slide Jeongguk’s grandmother’s clip into place, securing some hair out of your face.

You’re barefoot, to appreciate the earth beneath your feet, one of the blessings of the gods that allows your pack to survive and prosper.  It’s a beautiful day and at noon the pack members howl, signaling the start of the ceremony.

As Minseo guides you out of her cabin you feel your heart jump up into your throat from nerves.  You have the most absurd thoughts as you approach the center of the pack grounds, things like: will Jeongguk be there to meet you?; has all of this just been a sick joke, a taunt of the gods to show you what you’ll never have?; will you wake up back in your tribe, all alone again?

Minseo squeezes your shoulders as you suddenly stop, eyes wide and breath shortening.

“It’s okay sweetheart, just take your time,” she tells you, “you take this at your own pace, okay?  Today is about you and the start of your life with Jeongguk, this isn’t about anybody else.”

“Will he be there?” you ask her fearfully, afraid that when you reach the center he’ll laugh at you from the sidelines, as if you were ever good enough for him.

“Being Jeongguk’s mother, I know him inside and out.  Y/N, I’ve never seen Jeongguk look at someone the way he’s looked at you.”

You nod, taking a deep breath as Minseo smooths some of your hair down, waiting for your signal.  Finally, you nod with a bit more finality and step forward.

Various pack members throw seeds at your feet as you pass them.  The congregation grows thicker the closer you get to Jeongguk, but they’re purposefully blocking him from view, Alpha and Omega Kim standing at the very end.

“Y/N,” Alpha Kim greets you and you bow to him, “Please, rise.  Accept this gift of our pack, as we formally acknowledge that you are to be mated to one of our alphas, Jeon Jeongguk, and that better yet, you are officially one of our own.  Today and going forward, you are a part of our family.”

You wipe a tear from your eye as Omega Kim steps forward to place a rather simple but beautiful flower crown on your head, you bowing a little lower to show respect and thankfulness for the gift.

“Allow me to be the one to say this: out of any offering we could have chosen, I’m thankful you had the courage to volunteer.  Please, step forward and meet your mate.  If I can be blunt, he’s been rather anxious all morning.”

An indignant hey sounds from behind him and you laugh, the Kims parting to give you your first glance of Jeongguk and it steals your breath away.

He’s standing in the middle of the pack circle, wearing just as simple of a tunic as your dress, just as barefoot, and just as handsome as you’ve seen him everyday this week.  But his hands are clasped tightly in front of him, eyes glassy as he gazes so fondly at you it causes more tears to spring to your eyes.

Jeongguk holds his hands out as your step to him and you willingly follow the way he pulls you to him, dropping his forehead against yours.  The pack is quiet and respectful as you share the moment together, before you feel Jeongguk release a shaky breath.

“Hi,��� he says, voice hoarse and you want to laugh but you can feel your lower lip wobbling.

“Hi,” you parrot, throat tight with emotions you’re currently unable to process.

“You look… more beautiful than anything I could have ever imagined,” he tells you, raw honesty shining through each word he speaks, “The clip- thank you.  I know grandmother is smiling down on us today.”

You can’t respond, choking on all the words you want so desperately to say to him, but he seems to understand you anyway if the spring light kiss he gives you is anything to go by.

There’s light applauding from the pack as you two straighten, Alpha and Omega Kim stepping up to the two of you.

“Everybody,” Alpha Kim intones, raising his hands high, “Please join me in blessing the joyous joining of these two bodies.  Though they are separate in physical form, they are one in soul.  May the Moon Goddess bless their lives together as we help watch over them, so is our promise as a pack.”

The shifters throw their heads back to howl as you and Jeongguk cross your arms to join hands, Omega Kim wrapping a twine rope that has been steeped in the same fern flower powder in your hair.  It sparkles against your skin, catching the sunlight as she wraps and wraps and wraps, up and down your arms until she knots it in place, knot hanging between your hands.

“In front of the pack, recite your promises.”

“As an alpha,” Jeongguk starts, staring directly at you, voice steady and resolute, “I promise to protect you with my life.  I promise to give you my all, so that we may have a good life together, here, within this pack, until fate intervenes or decides otherwise.  I promise to love you more today than I did yesterday, and love you even more tomorrow.  As my word is my bond, do you accept?”

You don’t think as you nod, already knowing what your answer is, “I accept.”

“Y/N, in front of our pack, please recite your promises.”

You take a moment to gather yourself, rubbing your cheeks against your shoulders to rid yourself of your tears since your hands are bound.  Jeongguk coos softly at you, pure elation etched in his face as he watches you.

“As a human,” you begin, voice shaky with emotion but ringing true with clarity, “I recognize that there is not much I can do to provide for you.  But I promise to be the best mate I can be, to support you in your endeavors and to lift your spirits when you are down.  I promise to love you with my entire heart, until fate decides to bless us with children, and I promise to love and protect them as any mother would do.  As my word is my bond, do you accept?”

“I accept,” Jeongguk whispers, arms straining against the rope in an effort to not just pull you to him and ravage you in front of everyone.

“We as a pack wish you all the happiness in the world,” Omega Kim finishes, reaching forward to undo the knot, letting the twine fall away from your arms as Jeongguk finally pulls you into him.

He’s crying into your hair, holding you close to him as the pack surges forward to give you their congratulations before they set off to get the party started.

“Why are you crying?” you blubber into his shoulder, holding onto him, “Stop it, you’re making it worse!”

He hiccup laughs into your ear, running his hands down your back as he finally pulls away.  Your heart swells as you wipe the tear tracks off his cheeks, leaning up to kiss him softly.  He nuzzles his nose against yours as you pull away, tucking you into his side as you follow the crowd to the party.

“I do really like this dress.  Looks like your Lottery dress,” Jeongguk says, clearing his throat of any remaining tears, tugging playfully at the hem.

“It is!” you say, stepping away as he keeps a grasp on your hand, Jeongguk letting out a laugh as you use it to your advantage to do a little spin, “Well, parts of it.  Figured I’d never wear it again but could still get some use out of it.”

“You look pretty,” he says simply, “and not to be a pervert so early in the afternoon, but you’ll look even better out of it.”

“Shut up,” you blush and he grins.

You and Jeongguk aren’t allowed to drink any wine, to keep yourselves clear headed for your impending copulation.  You two don’t need to drink to have any fun, though, as the two of you twirl around with your pack members, dancing and laughing and eating to your heart’s content.

You’re flushed and sweaty as the sun starts to set, the pack lighting up a bonfire as the party starts to wind down.  You’ve been stopped by individuals of the pack who want to personally congratulate you and wish you well.

“I’ve watched Jeongguk grow up and he’s always been such a sweet boy,” an older beta woman tells you, spindly fingers clutched around yours, “He’ll take such good care of you.  And I can tell you’ll take equally as good care of him.”

Jeongguk is on the other side of the clearing, nodding along as he intently listens to an older alpha tell him a story.  He seems to feel your gaze on him because he pauses in his conversation to glance up at you.  He gives you a small smile, tilting his head in question, but you just smile back as you shake yours.

“You know the old wives tale about the copulation ceremony, don’t you?” the beta asks.

“Oh, no, I don’t believe I have.  What is it?”

“They say that if your fern flowers glow during your copulation, the Moon Goddess is revealing that you’ve found your true mate.”

You’ve actually never heard that wives tale before and the surprise on your face makes the beta laugh.

“Don’t overthink it; it’s just a fairytale we tell the pups.  My advice to you during your copulation is just to relax, you’ll only make things worse for yourself if you’re tense.”

You nod, having already heard this from other mated pairs.  But if you’re being honest with yourself, your not worried about having sex with Jeongguk.  Sure, there’s a little pit in your stomach, but it’s completely overshadowed by the excitement thrumming through your veins at crossing this last intimate barrier with him.

The crowd gets quieter as the moon rises and the party dies down.  There are lots of tired pups being gathered up by their parents as Minseo lovingly embraces you, and then Jeongguk.

“You birthed me, shouldn’t I be hugged first?” Jeongguk exclaims, pulling his mother tightly into his arms as you snort quietly beside him.

“I like Y/N better,” she says simply, but she holds him just as close to her, “I’m happy for you both.”

Jeongguk lets out a shaky exhale, letting her go before he takes your hand, “Thank you.  We’re going to make our rounds before we head to the clearing.”

She nods and gives you a radiant smile, waving you both off.  The rounds involve wishing everyone thanks and bidding them goodnight, older shifters try to give you last minute advice and others your age merely patting you on the back and giving you sly smirks.  Yoongi is probably the worst and you try to ignore the lascivious grin he gets you; he’s already experienced the carnal desires between you and Jeongguk, this isn’t anything new for him.

“Alpha Kim, Omega Kim,” Jeongguk greets and you bow to them and they smile at the both of you, packing up the remaining food to be delivered to your cabin, “thank you for this celebration.  We’re going to go pay our respects to the Moon Goddess now.”

Which is code for: we’re going to fuck like animals.  You try to keep your face neutral, but like with Yoongi, you try not to look Alpha Kim directly in the eyes.

“We wish you all the happiness,” Omega Kim reinterates and you do return this sweet little lady’s genuine kindness, “Oh and Jeongguk?”

“Yes ma’am?”

“Go easy on her,” she teases and you immediately cover your face as you hide behind Jeongguk.  Why are shifters so shameless?

Jeongguk seems just as embarrassed, holding onto you as he whines, “Alpha Kim please control your mate.”

Alpha Kim raises his hands and shakes his head, “Keep me out of this, son.”

The two of them laugh as you wallow in your embarrassment, before Jeongguk forces you beside him to bow one last time and walk away.

“He told her,” you state, glancing up at Jeongguk to see his ears are red, eyes focused on the treeline in front of you.

“He totally told her,” he soullessly intones and you can’t help but crack a smile.

Jeongguk tries not to laugh with you, but he can’t fight the way his lips curl as you giggle into his side.  The walk to the clearing doesn’t take very long and your heart rate picks up when you enter it.

“Jeongguk,” you whisper, eyeing the candles spread around, most of them adorning the base of the Moon Goddess statue.

When you turn to look at him he’s smiling softly at you, leading you further in.

“This could have been a fire hazard,” you scold, for lack of anything better to say.

“Shut up,” Jeongguk rolls his eyes, pulling you to the blanket he has laid out in the center of the candles.

You quiet down as you kneel on the blanket, running your hands over the fur.  It feels new, almost untouched, and you spread out on it on your stomach, sighing as some of the tension eases out of your body.  The clearing is quiet and you close your eyes, almost feeling like you could fall asleep.  The thrumming under your skin for what’s to follow can’t be ignored, though.

You don’t jump when a hand grasps your ankle, thumb rubbing against the skin there as another hand travels up the back of your leg, gripping at your thigh.  A kiss is pressed to the crease of your knee and you laugh at the ticklish feeling of it, before the hand on your thigh grips your hip and nudges you to roll over.

You do so, gasp getting caught in your throat when you see Jeongguk kneeling over you, eyes dark and half-lidded as he gazes down at you, his stare intense.  His hand on your hip moves up until it’s clutching at the dip of your waist, his fingers firm and intent, and your eyelashes flutter at the contact.  The want to close your legs is intense, but Jeongguk is slotted between them.  Jeongguk inhales sharply when he feels them tighten around his thighs instead, which is of very little reprieve for you, and if anything it makes the feeling worse.

“Let’s say our prayers to Her,” he tells you, voice already starting to deepen.

You don’t trust yourself to speak so you just nod, letting Jeongguk help pull you up and over to the statue.  You smile up at Her as you kneel at Her feet, clasping your hands in your lap.

Jeongguk bows his head as he says his prayers to Her, but you keep your head raised.  It almost seems as if She is looking back at you, her gaze stony and resolute but still so benevolent.

“I don’t have anything else to ask of You, You’ve already given me Jeongguk.”

The euphoric feeling that spreads through you suddenly is almost too much to comprehend and you sink into it, letting the feeling travel through your body until you can feel it even in your toes.

“Y/N.”

Jeongguk’s voice sends a shiver down your spine and you spin on your knees to see that Jeongguk has already moved to the blanket, leaning back on his hands with his legs extended in front of him.

You can already feel yourself start to get wet as you crawl towards him, Jeongguk sitting up to meet you in a messy kiss.  Your hands fly to his hair, angling his head up to give your neck a little slack, his own landing on your ass.  The feeling in your body gets hotter and more intense the longer you touch Jeongguk, one hand slipping from his hand to trail down his neck and rest on his pec, right over his heart.  The resounding and steady rhythm beneath your palm is comforting, despite the hungry way Jeongguk is trying to devour you.

“Want you.  Need you,” he groans, his hands on your ass drawing you closer, settling you more firmly in his lap so you can feel him compressed hot and hard in his trousers.

“Get naked,” you breathe out, pulling back to rid yourself of your dress.

Jeongguk’s eyes open, mouth forming a half smirk as he no doubt opens his mouth to say something stupid, before his mouth drops open when you unceremoniously pull your dress over your head.  His mouth shuts with an audible click and he acts like every time he sees you naked it’s the first time.  You knock the fern crown off in your haste and Jeongguk replaces it with shaky fingers, hands smoothing down your flyaway hairs.

“I’ll never get over how pretty you are,” he whispers, hands reverently running over your skin, from your shoulders to your fingers and back, down and around your sides to your ass and thighs, “Feel so good in my hands.  Can’t believe I’m the one who gets to touch you like this.”

You whine as you wriggle in his lap, his fingers light and ticklish, “Love your hands, Gukkie, they’re so big.  Touch me more.”

He hums as he leans forward to attach his lips to the top of your tit, sucking at the skin as his hands tweak your nipples.  You don’t really get much out of having your breasts fondled, but Jeongguk seems to like playing with them and the caress of his hands does feel nice, even if it’s not the most arousing.  You still let yourself get lost in the feeling as you run your hands through his hair, letting Jeongguk leave as many love bites as he wants as he works your nipples to hard peaks.

“Taste good,” he mumbles, his breath causing goosebumps to erupt when it hits your wet skin.

“I have something that tastes even better,” you promise, trailing your own hand down your stomach to lightly trace your lips, feeling how wet you already are yourself.

“You think?” he grins, teeth encasing your nipple for a second, “Think I should find out for myself?”

“I think I’d let you do whatever you wanted to me,” you tell him honestly, squeaking as he shifts under you to take you in his arms, slowly lowering you until your back meets the blanket.

His eyes are black and molten as he pulls back from you, lips furiously red from where they’d worked your skin over, “Don’t tempt me, lamb, or I might take you up on that offer.”

You spread your legs wide in response, fingers drumming against your skin from his lack of touch, pussy aching in need.  Jeongguk lets out a slow breath as he finally sheds himself of his clothes, your mating necklace getting caught in his shirt before he pulls it free and lets it fall back against his skin, complimenting his completed tattoo.

“So good for me,” he praises, kissing his way down your body.

Jeongguk appears to have no patience, immediately diving into your pussy like he’ll die without another minute of it on his tongue.

“Fuck!” you cry out, thighs clamping around his head at the sudden feeling, and his strong hands pry them apart and hold them to the blanket, keeping you open for him.

Your eyes roll back as he delves his tongue into you, eagerly licking and sucking any part of your pussy his mouth can reach.  He’s neglecting your clit with his tongue, but his nose brushes against it continuously and its enough to have you fucking your hips up into his face to get more pressure on it.

“Be a good girl and stay still,” he growls, one hand letting go of your thigh to throw his arm across your hips and hold you down, “Gonna get you nice and wet for my cock but… it looks like you did a good enough job of that for me.”

You groan and nod your head, “Want you so bad, Guk, been thinking about your cock all day.”

You can feel him grin into your pussy, which shouldn’t be as hot as it is, before he says, “Don’t worry, I’ll give it to you.”

He’s been fucking you with his fingers all week, so when presses one slowly into you to test the stretch, you’re quick to ask for another.  And then immediately another.

“So greedy,” he tuts, but doesn’t argue as he presses three fingers into you, watching with rapt attention as your back arches at the sensation.

It’s addictive, the way Jeongguk moves and crooks his fingers inside of you, tongue finally lapping against your clit in order to relax you more.  With his arm still holding your hips down, you take to clutching at his hair to move his tongue in a way you like and he lets you guide him, humming against your skin as you clench around his fingers.

When he finally pulls away you whine your dissatisfaction, eyelashes fluttering open as Jeongguk crawls up your body, his chin wet and glistening in the candle light.  You huff as you wipe it off, arm linking around his neck after.

“I was gonna cum,” you pout, accepting his light kiss.

“Oops,” he shrugs, smirking, and you smack his shoulder, pulling him back into you.

You could kiss Jeongguk for hours, tongues stroking together as your hands explored.  You especially like touching his back, the muscles taunt and defined under your hands as he presses his body against yours.  You both moan as his cock nudges into the wet mess that is your pussy, Jeongguk pulling away with a wet smack and a nip at your lower lip.

“I want to have sex like this,” he tells you, laying his palm against your cheek, “I want to watch your face.”

It’s almost embarrassing to think about, but you can’t help but echo his sentiment and the two of you shuffle for a few seconds, Jeongguk planting his knees more steadily into the ground as your thighs bracket his hips.  That nervous flutter starts up in your stomach as Jeongguk presses the head of his cock against your slit, rubbing it slowly against you as he himself seems to gather his nerves.

Jeongguk holds onto cock as he leans back down over you, pressing his mouth reassuringly against yours as he slowly pushes in, your mouth dropping open as he fills you.

You’ve taken cock before, but it had always been quick trysts with men who didn’t care about you, usually with you half clothed and pushed up against a wall, your own fingers rubbing your clit to give you something as they chased their own orgasms.  There had been some girls you had fucked, pussies wet as you rubbed them together, and there had even been a sweet, traveling woman who had buried her face in your cunt for a few hours and worked your pussy raw.  She had pulled the best orgasms out of you until you cried, but then she had disappeared like a ghost and left you aching for days.  Most people didn’t acknowledge you after, unless they wanted to get their rocks off again, and you had gone with it because you had your own needs to fill too.

Jeongguk is not most people and you can feel the tears gathering in your eyes as he pushes his cock in until his pelvis meets yours.  He’s dropped his head to place his forehead against your collarbone, breath ragged as he finally comes to a halt, body quivering as you clutch onto his shoulders.

“Okay?” he asks, voice deep but quiet, “Hurt?”

“I need a sec,” you whimper, trying to relax around the intrusion and he grants you it, keeping you close as he peppers kisses across your skin.

The throbbing in your pussy changes from uncomfortable to needy as he cock pulses in you and you finally rub your nose against his neck and whisper for him to start moving.

Jeongguk takes a shuddering breath as he slowly pulls his cock out and inches it back in, fingers creating indents on your hip as you clench around him, trying to adjust to the feeling.  His thrusts help, loosening your body up as the pain ache transforms into spikes of pleasure.

“Feels good,” you whine, loosening your hold on his shoulders and letting him pull out of your neck, “Gukkie, feels good.”

You smile up at him as his eyes open, before they widen considerably.  His minuscule thrusts stop and you fear the worst, raising a hand to his face.

“What?  What is it?” you worry, trying to turn your head to see if maybe something’s happening and you see-

You see your hair spread around you with the strands glowing against the blanket.  You gasp, raising a hand to pinch some of the powder off your hair to see it coat your fingers, glowing a translucent blue against your skin.

“Y/N,” Jeongguk whispers shakily, reaching a hand up to touch the crown that had fallen onto the blanket when he laid you down, “the flowers… they’re glowing.”

Jeongguk’s right, your hair is glowing and the rest of your body is starting to glow too, where fern powder has fallen onto your skin all day.

“You’re-you’re glowing and that means your- that means we-” Jeongguk’s lower lip is starting to wobble and he can’t finish his sentence, dipping his head to let it rest in your neck again, “Y/N.”

You cry with him, clutching tightly onto Jeongguk as the message the Moon Goddess sent you sets in; Jeongguk and you are true mates.  It doesn’t sound real, as you sob into Jeongguk’s shoulder, and you don’t feel any different than you did ten minutes ago.  But fern flowers don’t randomly glow, especially not after they’ve been plucked, and not coincidentally on your mating day after giving the Moon Goddess your thanks.

Jeongguk kisses you, a messy thing of tears and spit as he undulates his hips, framing your face as he sets the pace.  You can make out faint murmurings of it’s you as Jeongguk tongues you, pelvis pressed against yours as he grinds against you.  The pressure is almost too much, the hard plains of his lower stomach pressing tantalizingly against your clit as you open around his cock.

His pace turns more frantic, pulling his hips back farther and farther, spearing you on his cock more and more as his hands roam your torso.

“Pretty girl, my pretty girl,” he groans, licking a thick stripe up your neck as your legs tighten around him, overcome with the feeling, “So wet, feel so good around my cock.”

You nod in quick agreement, hands slipping down his back as he starts to sweat, “Guk, touch me, please.”

You cry out as his fingers toy with your clit, tears gathering in your eyes, carding your fingers through his hair.  Your orgasm is fast approaching and Jeongguk seems hellbent on sending you over the edge fast.

“Yes, yes, Gukkie, so close,” you pant, having trouble keeping your eyes open.

“Gonna look so good around my knot,” he grunts, the pressure of his fingers turning deadly and you cry at the feeling, “Gonna knot you so good you’ll feel it for days.  This is the only knot you’ll ever need, the only knot you’ll ever want, got that?” his voice turns into a growl and you openly sob.

“Only ever want you, Guk- gonna- gonna-!”

You throw your head back as all sounds get caught in you throat, back taunt as you arch it, Jeongguk fucking you through your orgasm as his fingers don’t slow.  It’s so good, consuming your entire body as it locks up until all you can feel is it and Jeongguk.

“Baby, look so good like this.  God, I’m so lucky.  Gonna bust- gonna knot-”

Jeongguk stops talking, leaning down to clamp his teeth around your neck.  You don’t even flinch at the feeling, your body thrumming from your orgasm.  There is a sort of warmth in your heart at knowing that once Jeongguk leaves his bite claim it’s official by shifter standards, that you and Jeongguk are mated for life.

You gasp as you feel the initial swelling, Jeongguk biting harder in tandem as his knot grows.  You’ve never slept with a shifter before and the swelling, despite being aware of it, is not something you’re quite prepared to take.  You whine as it continues to swell, Jeongguk growling around his mouthful of your skin as his thrusts slow down as it locks you two in place.

You squeeze your eyes shut as Jeongguk begins to cum and bites through your skin, pain erupting along with it.

“Oh fuck, fuck,” Jeongguk grunts, licking at your neck before he throws his head back and howls, body twitching in your hold.

There’s… a lot.  It feels like Jeongguk cums for a minute straight, panting heavily into the air before he lets his full body weight fall on top of you.  You wheeze but don’t fight it, pressing your nose into his temple as you breathe together.  Jeongguk licks periodically at your bite wound as your breathing evens out and your heartbeats return to normal.

“I can’t believe it,” Jeongguk finally whispers, “How would I get so lucky?  To meet my true mate through a voluntary offering.”

His words bring tears to your eyes again.  It does seem too good to be true, to have been ostracized from your community only to have that ostracism lead to your volunteering at Jeongguk’s Lottery.

Jeongguk raises his head to meet your eyes and he’s wearing a dopey smile, brushing his fingers over the crown of flowers.

“You’re still glowing,” he whispers, eyes bright and shiny in the candlelight.

“Cut it out, I’m gonna cry,” you hiccup, trying to pull Jeongguk down to kiss you, but he resists, testing the pull of his hips.

His knot has gone down enough that he’s able to pull out, but he quickly plunges his fingers into you.  You go to protest, but the words die in your throat as he gazes very seriously up at you.

“Y/N,” he sounds just as serious, “I just- I love you.”

You reach out and punch his shoulder and he rears back, more out of shock than actual pain, “Ow!  What the hell!”

“You can’t say that to me when you’ve got your fingers in me like that!” you protest, though his words have sent your heart spiraling.

“I didn’t want to let the cum out yet,” he says, pouting like the ridiculous idiot he is.

You open your mouth to say something, but he leans in and softly kisses you, finally removing his fingers so he can hold you by your waist.

“I just wanted you to know,” he says, shameless and honest, “I don’t expect you to say it if you don’t feel it.”

You feel a lot for Jeongguk, but you’re not sure if that feeling is love or not, so you keep it to yourself for now.  Jeongguk doesn’t seem offended, if the sweet kisses he continues to give you mean anything.  He places a hand on your cheek to tilt your head and you hiss as it pulls the stiff skin of your neck.

Jeongguk grins as he pulls from kissing your mouth to kissing your neck, the attention alleviating some of the pain.

“We have the clearing all to ourselves,” Jeongguk murmurs against your skin and you hum in acknowledgement, letting him slowly guide you back down on the blanket, “Let’s lay here for a bit, yeah?  I wanna take my time with you.”

“Guk…” you start off and he looks up at you, raising a quizzacle eyebrow, “... thank you.”

He doesn’t ask for what.  You both already know, can both feel it when he raises up to kiss you again, with the intention of taking advantage of all the time you guys have left.  Which is forever.

[commander-diomika]

(Click to Read From the Beginning) Part 6 - Pairing: Zolf Smith/Oscar Wilde Word Count: 4700 Additional Tags: Slow Burn, 18-Month Time Gap (Rusty Quill Gaming), Opposites Attract, Trans Male Character, Forced Outing, Pining, Additional Warnings In Author's Note

Summary: New intel from Curie brings new rules about the quarantine process. This puts Zolf and Wilde in an awkward position. A/N - The forced outing depicted in this chapter isn’t through any malicious intent, but rather circumstances outside character control. There are no transphobic sentiments portrayed in this series, internalised or direct, but some of Wilde’s caution around disclosing indicates that this is a world where transphobia exists. These things could make for an uncomfortable experience for some readers.

The few times that Zolf went out on missions alone, usually on fruitless attempts to scout the Shoin Institute, it had been Barnes that welcomed him back and locked him in. Zolf didn’t mind isolation stretches, but he didn’t love that Wilde kept himself absent for the entire duration. He understood why, but there was something unsettling about coming home, and yet having to wait for what he felt like was the proper homecoming of being reunited with Wilde. But he coped with it just fine.

When the invitation from Curie came for a meeting, and specified that only one person was welcome, Zolf fought hard for it to be him.

“You’ve never even met Curie.” Wilde pointed out, voice level despite the heat in Zolf’s tone. “It makes far more sense for me to go, and someone needs to stay here.”

“At least take Barnes with you,” Zolf countered, knowing he was being ridiculous but unable to help it. He’d known that this time was coming but that didn’t make it come any easier. “He don’t have to come with you to meet her, but he can keep you safe.”

Wilde’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t need a bodyguard.”

Zolf crossed his arms, stymied. It wasn’t that he was overprotective. But he couldn’t squash the memory of Wilde’s face, slippery with blood beneath frantic fingers, or the haunted look in Wilde’s eyes when he emerged from isolation.

“I won’t even be gone long, Zolf. Curie is going to meet me in Hiroshima.”

Zolf opened his mouth to argue further, and was stopped by Wilde closing his eyes, looking genuinely tired for a moment. Normally Wilde relished a bit of verbal sparring and the two of them fought as easily as they breathed. But something about the way he sighed gave Zolf pause.

When Wilde next spoke, his voice was soft, a rare pleading in his tone. “I know, Zolf. I know you don’t like it. I don’t like it, but I have been looking at these same four walls for months. I am sick of not being a productive member of this team.”

“WHAT!” Zolf exploded. “You are the most productive member! Me n’ Barnes n’ Carter would be nothin’ without-”

“You know what I mean!” Wilde said, frustrated. Zolf hardly ever saw him like this. Anger was an emotion that Wilde kept locked away, just like his fear. “I’m sick of people treating me like I’m some sort of china doll, just because I can’t cast anymore!”

Zolf spluttered. “You’re not- we don’- nobody said-”

Wilde raised his hand. “I appreciate your concern, Zolf, I really do. But I’m going on this mission. And I am asking you-” Wilde drew a deep breath in through his nose “-to trust me.”

Well. That had been played like a trump card. Zolf felt something in him release, the angry churn of his stomach dissipating. If there was any truth left in the world at this point, it was that Zolf trusted Wilde.

He nodded.

---

As was protocol, on the evening he returned, Zolf, Barnes and Carter made themselves scarce until Wilde was safely in the anti-magic chamber, not detouring to any other rooms of the inn. They had arrangements for how to handle if a returning party member didn’t head straight for what they’d all started calling “the box,” but thankfully it was yet to come up. Zolf headed in after, with the keys to the cell, fresh clothes, and a bowl of prawn gyoza in hand.

“How’s Hiroshima?” Zolf asked, locking up and passing through the food.

Wilde didn’t respond, just levelled Zolf with a flat glare.

Zolf shrugged. “You can talk to me, an’ if at the end of the week you’re compromised, I’ll just assume that anythin’ you said was false intel, yeah? Until then,” Zolf pulled up the chair that sat outside and cell and settled it. “There’s no harm in it going this way,” he swept his hand from Wilde’s direction toward himself. “I just won’t tell you anything you don’t already know.” He, quite simply, was not going to take no for an answer. He wasn’t leaving Wilde alone with his thoughts for a week.

Wilde managed to look disapproving for a moment more, then a little smirk slipped through the veneer. “I find it difficult to believe you know anything I don’t, Smith.”

“Oh, sod off.”

“I can’t help it if I just happen to be the brains of the operation.” Wilde gave a small, defeated chuckle, and sat on the cot. He started undoing the anti-magic cuffs and massaging his ankles. Sometimes when there was no one using the box, Wilde would come sleep down here just for a chance to take them off for a little while.

“Hiroshima is well enough, but Curie says Cairo is a mess. The sandstorms have been giving it absolute hell. Anyone who doesn’t still need to be there isn’t, though it’s still seeing a lot of refugee traffic.” He picked up the food Zolf had passed through.

“From Europe?”

Wilde nodded between popping gyoza into his mouth. “These are very good, you know.”

Zolf waved a hand. “Hiromi’s been giving me lessons. She’s much nicer about it than her husband.”

Wilde updated Zolf on Curie’s operation. When he mentioned that she had been gifted the old Tahan estate, Zolf’s gut squeezed. It had been… almost over a year since he’d seen Hamid, and months since they’d last heard from him and the others. It was almost impossible to think that they were still alive, but without bodies or news, there was no way forward. Both men were left lingering in ambivalence, hope laid thick and heavy over a grief that couldn’t surface.

Wilde finished his food and frowned. He spoke more hesitantly than before. “There is one more thing I should tell you. We need to update some of the protocols.”

“Yeh? Howso?”

“The blue vein rumours? About the infected? Confirmed. More importantly, Curie says in every instance of a double agent, the blue veins have appeared on the body first, not the face or hands.” Wilde was overexplaining in a way that was unlike him. “In addition to the quarantine, being on the lookout for behavioural changes, Curie also recommended we do,” Wilde hesitated, again in a most un-Wilde-like fashion, “…visual inspections of those in quarantine. Thorough ones.” He fluttered nervous hands up and down his torso to illustrate.

As Zolf slowly turned over the implications, Wilde turned to rummage through his bag and withdraw papers. He gestured for Zolf to come take them through the slot.

“Reports, signed and sealed, detailing it all.”

Zolf took them, still absorbing what Wilde had said. He didn’t look through the bars. If he had, he would have seen something cautious and watchful in Wilde’s eyes.

The silence stretched on too long between them.

“Anyway, if you don’t mind, I am going to get some sleep. The boat from here to the mainland isn’t exactly a luxury cruiser, and I am exhausted.” Wilde flumped down onto the cot to punctuate the point.

“I… yeh. I’ll go have a look through these reports.” As Zolf walked away from the box, he paused in the door. “I’m glad you’re back,” he said. I’m glad you’re safe, he didn’t add.

“Of course you are,” Wilde replied without missing a beat. “This place must be dreadfully dull without me to liven it up for you.”

Zolf rolled his eyes and headed upstairs.

Having read through Curie’s reports, the next day Zolf went back to Wilde’s cell with his heart in his mouth.

Naked inspections. It’s just one thing after another in this brave new fucking world, isn’t it, he thought, agitated.

The whole situation was ridiculous. What was he so worried about? After everything they’d been through there was a certain trust, an ease between them now. What was a bit of nudity in the face of all that?

He was only feeling nervy about it because he was sure that Wilde was going to be a dick about it, in his usual style. Getting under Zolf’s skin hadn’t stopped being a hobby of Wilde’s, and this whole situation set the stage for his insufferable needling.

Wilde stood quickly as Zolf entered. He’d changed out of the clothes he’d travelled to Hiroshima in, and was now wearing long dark pants and his favourite yukata, the one with green and pink floral pattern.

“I read through all the reports,” Zolf began.

“We might as well get this over with,” Wilde said at the same time, and then laughed a little manically.

Zolf took his seat, waited for Wilde to quiet, then continued. “Curie also recommended we start askin’ people to tell us stories of things that only the other would know. Code words aren’t enough because it’s more about how you do the retellin’ than it is about the information.” Wilde’s face relaxed at the notion of delaying what came next.

“I’ll get you to tell me about… tell me how you remember our first meetin’, then.” Zolf said. Since all the other people who were there are either dead or presumed dead, he didn’t want to add.

Wilde launched into an explanation of flaming notepads, blood noses, slipping into his storyteller shoes with relief. It was nice to listen to him perform, even if thinking about Hamid and Sasha was depressing.

“And,” Wilde wound up, “I just happened to linger by the door and overhear you mention something about my bum, of all things. Now, if you’ll do me the favour of telling what that was, and we can all move forward assured of each other’s memory, though probably not their integrity.”

Oh, curses. He hadn’t thought Wilde had still been around for those comments. He crossed his arms and frowned loudly.

“Come now Zolf, you’ve already said it, you can’t take it back now.” Exactly as Zolf had suspected, Wilde seemed to be delighting in causing Zolf discomfort once again, whilst he slipped back into his old, familiar smarm. Wilde wrapped his hands around the bars of the cell and bounced slightly on his toes.

“I said,” Zolf pinched the bridge of his nose. “I said it was very nice.” And he stood by it, but Wilde didn’t need to know that.

Wilde laughed, free and throaty, running his hand through his hair in a way that Zolf knew, if he had access to his magic, would be accompanied by a bawdy shimmer of sparkles. For a moment, things felt bright.

The energy snapped back. Wilde wasn’t performing for a party, he wasn’t needling Zolf for a laugh, he was locked up in a cell waiting to find out if he had an infection that would turn him into something unrecognizable and dangerous… Wilde dropped his hands from the adamantine, and the two of them fell silent.

“I can go get Barnes, if you’d prefer,” Zolf said with a useless gesture. Wilde was already shaking his head.

“What’s a bit of nudity between… friends.” Wilde asked, with a quizzical tilt of his head. His eyes were asking does friends really cover it anymore? Zolf didn’t have an answer.

Zolf didn’t know how to get this whole awkward scenario started, so he just waited, his mouth dry. There was something so grim in Wilde’s face, and Zolf didn’t understand. His obvious discomfort with the notion of watching Wilde undress should’ve delighted the man. It should have been ammunition.

As Wilde started on the ties of his yukata, for the briefest of moments, Zolf’s discomfort was replaced by a blistering anger at the absurdity of it all. All those moments he had wanted to be closer to Wilde, to touch his bare skin or to hold him… but he hadn’t asked for this. Between the two of them hung a nascent possibility. A possibility that Zolf was only just starting to acknowledge, and that deserved a chance to blossom.

That instead it should be forced to happen like this, through cell bars, was perversely unfair. To him. To Wilde. To the pair of them and all the ways that this could have been different.

Wilde paused, as if seeing the flash of anger in Zolf’s eyes. He spoke quietly, almost to himself. “Thinking about… hmph. The truth is rarely pure and never simple.” With that non sequitur, he disrobed, turning his body to drape the cloth over the cot.

As he turned back, Zolf was struck by a sudden realisation; he’d never seen Wilde with his shirt off. Never swum together, never seen him coming back from bathing with a towel around his waist. Even in the heat, Wilde always wore his shirt buttoned, his yukata firmly tied. Zolf swore he could see Wilde’s chest in his mind’s eye. It just made sense. Wilde had certainly seen Zolf’s chest; they’d been living in each other’s pockets for almost a year now and Zolf didn’t think much of it.

But no, because if he’d seen Wilde without the shirt, he would know that Wilde had a smattering of dark chest hair. And more scars on his torso than seemed right. The wounds from Douglas had torn two messy gashes near the ribs, and those scars were present as expected. But there were two more - slightly crescent shaped, uniform and well-healed - swooping across his chest just beneath flat nipples.

Surgical scars.

The air was knocked out of Zolf’s lungs. His body had grasped answers before his mind did. His thoughts felt sluggish, crawling, gasping to catch up, and when they did it was with the lurching realisation of just how unfair it was that they had been brought here, to this cell, to this grotesque scenario, against their will.

Wilde undid the drawstring of his pants and stepped out of them. Dark hair ran in a soft line from his navel down, fanning out to the triangle that dipped between his legs. His face was carefully blank, as he lifted his hands, palms up, in a sardonic “ta-dah” gesture.

Zolf was frozen inside his mind, as Wilde turned slowly on the spot.

He did have a fantastic arse, the perfect balance of muscular and plush, and once again Zolf was furious that any hint of eros in this had been utterly perverted.

Wilde turned back to face Zolf and raised his eyebrows in a silent question. Zolf nodded again, his mouth dry. Wilde dressed, not rushed but efficient.

They sat in silence for a time.

“You never told me,” was all Zolf could think of to say.

“Fantastically witty and incisive commentary from one Zolf Smith, yet again,” Wilde said, voice like acrid smoke. Nothing made Wilde bite like losing the upper hand.

“I’m- I’m sorry. I jus’, I’ll go-” Zolf tried to walk and turn at the same time and knocked into the stool, clanging it down to the floor. He righted it with hands that shook and headed for the stairs.

“Zolf!” Wilde called after him. “You don’t have to leave.”

Well. That was as close to begging as Wilde ever got.

Zolf returned to his stool, and re-joined the silence. Wilde sat on the cot, watching the close wall of the cell with a face that Zolf recognised; it was one of Wilde’s favourite expressions, deliberately mild, open, waiting. It gave away nothing and invited everything. For Wilde, it was safety.

Other people, people who didn’t know Wilde as well, might take that as an invitation to speak. Zolf wasn’t other people. He thought about all the times he’d stumbled through something awkward, with good intentions but clumsy words. He had no idea how to proceed, other than it was probably wise to wait, and let Wilde find words first.

“Don’t feel bad about me not telling you.” Wilde said eventually. “It usually doesn’t come up, unless I’m sleeping with someone. Even then you’d be impressed at what can be achieved with creative use of props, dim lighting and a bit of magic.” He trailed his hand wistfully through the air, an impotent somatic component.

Zolf continued to wait, to leave the man space. Zolf wasn’t the one who’d been stripped, forced into a deeply personal disclosure without plan or intent.

“It’s not that I’m ashamed, you see. It's more… it feels like handing over a weapon, and I try to avoid that if I can. And well, I’m usually not in someone’s acquaintance long enough to feel bad about keeping it a secret.” There was an apology tucked between the words, and Zolf nodded even though Wilde wasn’t watching

He paused to run his thumb over the facial scarring, once, twice. “Bosie knew.”

Wilde let the silence stretch on long enough that Zolf felt like he had to speak or he would never stop thinking about skidding through Wilde’s blood on a cold stone floor. “You… you used to use your magic for it, righ’?”

Wilde barked out a harsh laugh. “Oh yes, for practically all of it! It was the reason I got so good at glamours! Back in Cairo I… I suspected that an anti-magic chamber or cuffs might halt the hexing, but I couldn’t, you see? I’d been doing it for so long. Everyone knew me as a man.” He shrugged, saying obviously with his shoulders. “I couldn’t go back.”

Zolf examined Wilde’s face. He was still carefully keeping his gaze on the cell wall. He still had that mild expression on his face, as though they discussed what to have for lunch, not one of the lowest points of his life. But he didn’t seem upset, so Zolf pressed on. “What happened?”

“Oh I…” he huffed a small laugh. “I got lucky. Turns out Grizzop already knew. I don’t think I reacted quite right when he punched me in the crotch.” Now something like genuine fondness crept into Wilde’s voice. “He suspected what might happen if I had to stop casting; he helped smooth things over. I was in no position to be fending for myself at that juncture, I had let the curse go on too long.” Wilde looked at his hands. “I will always be grateful to him.”

Wilde sounded like a man who knew, without a doubt, that the object of his gratitude was dead.

“Once it became clear the cuffs were going to become a permanent accessory, he set things up with the Cult of Aphrodite for me to have surgery and for them to supply the right potions. They have all the gear and know-how, of course. Not everyone in my position is a caster.”

Something else clicked in place for Zolf as he pondered the technicalities of non-magical surgery.

“Wait a minute. You were still recovering from that when we joined back up, weren’t you?”

Wilde’s brow crinkled as he considered timelines. “That’s right. Scarring needs to heal with almost no magical intervention, otherwise it’s back to square one. So it was… quite painful, to be quite honest. And compared to magical healing, the process drags on and on.”

Wilde smoothed a hand over his robe-clad chest. “I like it better this way now. No more binding my chest just in case, though I try to be careful about who sees the scars.” His voice was light, that faux-levelness starting to fade and he just, talked. Wilde was relieved, Zolf realised with a start. He wanted to tell Zolf about these things.

“It’s nice to just … be myself. Even at the end of day when I’m tired and can’t cast anymore.” And he finally looked at Zolf and smiled. Not a smirk or grin, just a completely open smile that welcomed Zolf into his joy instead of belittling or declaring victory with it. Even with the scar, sitting in a dim cell, he looked radiant.

As Zolf went to smile back, he felt his face wobble. This - Wilde smiling, confiding, being easy and honest with him - it was a better outcome than he could have hoped for. He felt the sudden bloom of Wilde’s smile in his chest, the warmth of the man’s trust.

But this was merely day one of seven, and it was still terrifyingly possible that the man who sat across from him was not Wilde at all. So Zolf’s smile twisted as it appeared on his face, and he didn’t reply, allowing them to lapse back into silence.

Day 2

“Wouldn’ it be- well not easier but less, I dunno- to just wait and do one inspection on the last day?” Zolf asked. He’d brought down breakfast and the paper, and they’d sat quietly as they ate; Wilde had finished eating and was starting on the motions of undressing.

“Zolf. My dear.” Wilde cocked his head in that patronising way that he did when he thought Zolf had said something legitimately dumb. “If I am reading your intentions correctly, your plan for the week is to eschew all your other jobs to waste away at my door-” Zolf opened his mouth to argue and Wilde simply raised his voice and pressed on “-not that I am complaining, but if you truly are going to while away the days with me, and then on the final day, you find out I have been infected the whole time and have to kill me, how, pray tell, is that going to make you feel?”

Zolf snapped his mouth shut.

“Wouldn’t you rather know as soon as it comes up?” Wilde pointed out, frustratingly reasonable.

Zolf simply wanted to throw the cell doors open because there didn’t seem any possibility that the man behind the bars was anything other than 100% pure, vexatious Oscar Wilde, but he stilled his twitching hand. Wilde’s question was to remain unanswered as Zolf simply gestured go on then and Wilde, with a grim, self-satisfied nod, started to strip.

Day 3

“No, don’tcha see, if Jennifer had gone to Antony in the garden, her mother would have known from the get-go-”

“But I simply don’t see how Alianne knowing would have improved things for Jennifer-”

“She was supportive, she could’ve helped smooth things over when Antony’s sister started her meddlin’, and they could have wrapped the whole thing up before supper!”

“Yes, but where is the fun in that, Zolf?”

Day 4

As Wilde dispassionately disrobed for a fourth time, Zolf realised there was now a familiarity to Wilde’s naked body, and that was jarring.

He wasn’t lanky, not really, but Zolf couldn’t help but think of most humans that way. The truth was he was solid enough in build, surprisingly muscular for a man who mostly rode a desk. His legs and arse especially were firm with it. He does a lot of walking about the village, I s’pose.

Zolf watched Wilde turn on the spot and he longed to trace the shape of Wilde’s shoulders, cup his ass, rub my damn nose in that soft lookin’ chest hair and…

Zolf ground his teeth against the wrongness of it all.

He thought of slipping his hands between Wilde’s legs, and though the shape of the fantasy had changed, the intensity had not.

It had been a long time since Zolf had felt a physical or sexual attraction like this, and the fact that it was at the most inconvenient time, and the most unlikely person, was enough to make him think he’d made a mistake breaking ties with Poseidon. Maybe if he hadn’t eschewed divine favour, he would have been protected from whatever trickster god had decided to throw this at him.

He kept his hands in his pockets so that Wilde wouldn’t see him clench his fists.

Maybe I should offer to strip too. At least that would put us on an equally horrible footing, Zolf mused.

Wilde dressed and turned back to look at Zolf with careful, watchful eyes. Wilde was in the business of reading even the most inscrutable enemies like a book, and at this point he had a thorough translation guide for Zolf. He knew it bothered the dwarf. The fact that Wilde hadn’t made a bunch of lewd comments was probably his idea of a kindness, but the absence of Wilde’s typical peacocking it somehow made it worse.

When he looked at him like that, it made Zolf feel like he was the one in the cell.

Zolf cleared his throat. “Got a new crossword book if you like?”

Day 5

“Pawn to E4.”

A chess board sat on a small table just outside the cell. Zolf moved the white pawn for Wilde then took his own move.

“Knight to G3.” Wilde said in a bored tone. He’d voted for bridge, but Zolf had talked him out of it. Too difficult to wrangle cards between the cell’s bars and mesh, he’d pointed out. Which was true, but what was also true was that Wilde was surprisingly bad at chess (it was much easier to cheat in cards).

Whilst Zolf did feel sympathy for Wilde, things weren’t so bad that Zolf wasn’t going to relish the opportunity to beat him at something for a change.

Day 6

Each day Wilde got closer to being comfortable with the inspections. Closer but not there. Half a lifetime of needing to be guarded about who saw your body created some strong foundational habits. That foundation wasn’t going to be eroded in seven days, regardless of how much you trusted the person who saw you.

But still, it could have been worse. Zolf shuddered to think what would have happened if this situation had been thrust on them a year ago. Their friendship, tenuous as it was, might not have been able to survive.

Dressing again, Wilde stretched the kinks out of neck. “I cannot wait to get out of here and have a proper bath and a nice long walk.”

“Nearly there.” Zolf said absently. He’d stopped needing to worry every second moment that Wilde was infected. Even though they’d been dealing with it all with distractions, with laughter, with pretending like it wasn’t happening, Zolf felt the sudden urge to be honest.

“I’m sorry that… that it happened like this. That you didn’t get a choice in tellin’ me about...” Your past? Your journey? Your truth? “…Everythin’.”

Wilde made a face of surprise, but instead of deflecting the offer of an honest conversation, he accepted. “Me too. I intended to, but as I said. I’m rarely… close enough with someone that I feel they deserve it. I wish-” Wilde paused, considering his next words, and what other weapons he might be handing over, deeply. “I wish that the circumstances had been different.”

Zolf could just ask what he meant. He could. It was practically an invitation for him to press, to force Wilde to clarify exactly under what circumstance he’d envisioned sharing secrets about his body with Zolf… but he didn’t.

Inside Zolf, uneasy guilt gnawed at him. The circumstances they had were only these ones. Wilde was vulnerable, caged, and thoroughly without a choice; but Zolf knew there were moments he’d chosen to ignore those elements. He knew, deep in his guilty core, he had been inspecting far more than he had the right. It didn’t feel honourable to press Wilde any further after that.

“Yeah.” Zolf stood. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Wilde. Last day ‘n all.”

Day 7

“It would have been too much to hope that the bloody sun would come out for this, wouldn’t it,” Wilde grumbled.

Freshly released, he was pondering umbrella selection in the entry hall.

“I’m guessing you don’t want me to come with,” Zolf ventured. Wilde had come out of his quarantine cheerful enough, but there was something understandably off about him; something distant and a little contemplative. Zolf had been half-expecting, or even hoping for, one of Wilde’s warm shoulder-touches. But he had kept his hands firmly to himself.

Wilde looked up, mouth twisted wryly. “I think I’ll be fine.” He hesitated, as he always did before saying something sincere. “I do appreciate what you’ve done for me this week, Zolf, but I could use a little space.”

Zolf nodded. He’d expected as much.

Inside him, the guilt twisted a little, the word violator rising in his mind. No. Neither of them had chosen anything about this situation. If anything, their connection felt even stronger for having been through the wringer, yet again. Whatever liberties Zolf accused himself of taking, it wasn’t enough to dent that.

We’re alright. Zolf thought.

We’ll be alright. I think we both could use a little time, is all.

Wilde selected the green umbrella, gave Zolf a tentative smile, and headed out into the rain.

[arknights-imagines]

phantom for the christmas letter and gift thing?? keep up the good work btw <3

From, Phantom

Christmas Letter and Gift event

After a day that had dragged on for so long that you were almost certain it had no end, you returned to your room ready to collapse on your bed and fall asleep. However, instead of an empty room, you are greeted by a visitor; a familiar two-tailed black cat sat on your bed, staring at you expectantly.

You blink, stepping further into your room “...Miss Christine?” Her cerulean eyes look into yours, and with grace she hops from your bed and circles your ankles, rubbing her head on your legs. Before you can pet her, she quickly slips away toward your desk, jumping on your chair before sitting on your desktop.

It’s then that you notice the black envelope closed with a gold wax seal placed on your desk, hardly inconspicuous among your other white sheets of paper. The design on the seal is ornate, but doesn’t make the letter particularly showy. Still, you can tell it’s important; there’s nothing written on the front or back of the envelope, but it’s obviously addressed to you - why else would be it sitting there on your desk in the middle of the night? The real question was the sender’s identity.

You take a seat at your desk, and Miss Christine relaxes with her eyes still fixed on you as your fingers gently open the envelope; an effusive smile finds its way to your lips as your eyes recognize the neat cursive writing on the paper inside of it, and you immediately know who the letter is from.

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

My dearest [name],

The Christmas season is the most wondrous time of the year for most. I’ve noticed that, like anywhere else, Rhodes Island and its residents have their own celebratory rituals for the Holidays, and for some, any sign that Christmas is near is enough to bring the brightest of smiles to their faces; perhaps it’s that way for you as well? To see you, my little kitten, grinning at the sight of snowflakes or Christmas sweets on the table in the staff lounge….just the thought brings palpitations to my heart.

In Victoria, Christmastime is celebrated very widely. Gales of laughter fill the streets and vibrant lights illuminate smiling faces; where was I during Holiday celebrations? I was on the stage, performing extravagantly with those who were part of the theatre troupe I travelled with. The shows would pertain to Christmas, of course, with revelers dancing and my voice leaving me in an almost mirthful manner; but those days have long passed.

Forgive me, little kitten. The purpose of me writing to you is not to overbear you with my dolorous thoughts.

Since Oripathy ended everything, Christmas has passed like any other shadow does; I don’t celebrate the Holidays nor have I ever particularly wished to. Until the day I encountered you.

[Name], this world and its society have lost its way. People keep themselves blinded; they ignore the shadows, and once they are forced to face them, their fate is often left unseen, hidden behind the curtain... It’s happening as we speak; Christmastime is bright, but the dark is always there, even if no one wishes to acknowledge it. Joy is ephemeral, and death arrives untimely and without clemency. Though...it was in this same blighted world that I was able to cross paths with you.

My little kitten, my [name]. The feelings you raise in me, the prospect that you don't find the dark and I unsightly...it’s all so profound. When I’m with you, something comes over me, and I wish for nothing more than to lie with you under the starry veil of the night. You are my light, you stand fearlessly in the dark and emanate warmth and safety; I don't feel imbued with darkness when you're in my company or in my thoughts. If I told you how often you occupy my mind...hm, I’ll reserve that for when we’re alone, when I can look into your eyes and hear your voice.

Returning to Christmas; people exchange gifts during Christmastime, and I felt strongly compelled to prepare a present for you...I am not familiar with Holiday traditions, so whether or not the gift I’ve bought for you is a suitable Christmas present, I’m not certain. A present to me is not simply materialistic; I hope with this gift, how much I cherish you is conveyed.

Until you're freed from your responsibilities at Rhodes Island for the Holidays, do be careful. The weather can become bitterly cold during this time of year, maybe...I should lend my cloak to you? I promise you it’s warm and comfortable.

Miss Christine and I both dearly miss you. I regret that I’m unable to express these thoughts to you in-person; I wish to have you to myself straightaway, but I will be patient and wait. After all, I’m never too far away. If you wish for me to be with you, all you need do is call me, I have told you that several times before. Little kitten, I'll always do as you wish.

Nothing is enough to express how much I truly love you, [name], but I dearly hope this letter and my present to you causes a smile to dance on your lips.

Christmastime with you, my little kitten; I hope you are anticipating it as much as I am.

Always, and forever,

Phantom

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

With a grin still on your face, your eyes find Miss Christine again; the sleek black feline had made her way back to her bed whilst you were reading. Phantoms’ letter held carefully in your hand, you stand from your chair and join Miss Christine on the edge of your bed. A soft meow leaves her, and you notice she’s sat beside what looks like a wooden box - it isn't wrapped, unless the black Christmas bow stuck on the box by its adhesive backing counts as gift wrapping. Eyes curious, you remove the bow and take the box in your hands; quickly, you discover it’s not just an ordinary box, but an antique hand-crank music box.

Its dark coloured wood is lacquered, making it easy to run your fingers over its surface. It’s appearance is so elegant and lavish; every design - from the baroque esque patterns carved into the music box to the intricate details on its handle - has clearly been done by hand and with lots of care. You set the music box in your lap as Miss Christine looks on from her spot laying near your pillows, her tail flicking curiously back and forth.

Carefully, you open the lid of the music box, revealing the contraption inside; eager, you turn the handle a few times, winding the music box up before retracting your hands and allowing the song to play.

An enchanting melody composed exclusively of piano slowly fills your room. You know this tune; a long while ago, Phantom had hummed that same melody while lulling you to sleep after you had awoken from a nightmare you didn't wish to disclose the details of. He had held you close to his chest, and you could remember the sound of his voice that night like it was just yesterday. You could never possibly forget that tune, in fact, you recalled it very vividly; but you would've never thought it'd be as important to him.

When you shut your eyes, you can hear Phantom’s soothing voice singing in harmony with the ariose piano being produced from the music box. Letting a sigh leave you, your eyes slowly flutter open. As the song nears its end, your gaze is drawn back toward the music box - this time to the words written on the inside of the lid. You had been so curious in hearing the music box play its song that you hadn't even had the chance to read them;

‘Merry Christmas, little kitten. If you remember the tune the music box plays...I applaud you. I have spent many nights transforming that simple lullaby into a musical score.’ Phantom's thoughtfulness fills you with warmth, and the note continues, ‘This melody...I wish for it to be reserved for us.’ The song finally ends and your heart swells upon reading the last words of Phantom's message, ‘A song reserved for only you and I.’

[fleckcmscott]

Out of Sight

Summary: Y/N has an unexpected dash of inspiration. Arthur doesn't require much convincing.

Warnings: Swearing, Smut

Words: 4,221

A/N: This fun little request comes from @sweet-nothings04​​. You're wonderful and I hope this meets your expectations. Thanks for the request - I can't imagine ever writing this without it! 🙈 Special thanks to @jokerownsmysoul​ for agreeing to beta!

If you have any thoughts or questions, please comment, feel free to message me, or send me an ask. Requests for Arthur and WWH are open!

Words didn't often fail Y/N, but the admission left her foggy, reminiscent of what she'd experienced after tipping over in a wheelbarrow race at a school fair. Her foot swung back and forth as she sat on the counter. Fiddled with the phone cord and twisted its beige, plastic curls around her fingers. Were there signs she'd missed? Was her gut right in insisting she was a terrible friend?

"Marriage counseling?" she repeated.

Arthur stopped filling his bowl with sandy, pecan cookies, alarm encroaching his features. She waved off his concern, mouthing "not us" before she spoke into the receiver. "I'm so sorry." With a grimace of understanding, he patted her knee and ducked out, sweets in hand. No doubt he'd ask her to elaborate. Not that she had anything to share. Not yet. "I had no idea you and Robert were having problems."

Patricia laughed lightly on the other end. "Neither of us have our bags packed." A whistle came from the background. Vague cheering. Then mild cursing about how terrible this season's Gotham Guardsmen's picks were. She sighed. "The little green monster's dropped-in since your wedding. Don't get me wrong. I couldn't be happier for you if you were my own sister."

Y/N wished Patricia was within arm's reach instead of all the way in Burnside.

"Next month we'll have been married thirty-five years," Patricia continued with a rare nostalgia. "We're a team, Robert and me. But we've both let things go, gotten old. I'd like the spark back before we lose the kindling."

Pursing her lips, Y/N bit back her qualms. Rebutting the steps Patricia had taken was uncalled for, and doubly so when she needed her support. Besides. Y/N understood them. She'd climbed them once, too.

When she'd begun to figure out the direction in which the weather vane of her life pointed, the comfort and confidence she'd shared with her ex-husband had started to wither. Transformed over the years into an awareness that her childish belief in love being enough was inaccurate. It was natural, she thought in hindsight. They'd wed at seventeen and twenty-one. But divorce had been uncommon back then, particularly in a small town in the Bible Belt. The night she'd moved in with a friend (a tactic to delay confessing defeat to her family), Jeff suggested they speak with a professional. Though her heart had known it was over, she cared for him. She couldn't deny them the chance to salvage their union, no matter how remote.

A solitary counselor was available, a disadvantage of rural living. The man claimed to be a pioneer in couples therapy, having begun his practice in the thirties. One forty-five-minute drive later and they'd found themselves squished into a leather loveseat in a smoky, cramped office. Diplomas and certificates covered the walls, the veracity of which she couldn't verify. Dr. Ellis's puffy pink cheeks and offer of sweet tea had been kinder than his approach.

Fountain pens and worksheets were provided with the mumbled instruction to answer honestly. But the questions had not fit her situation. They were for women who desired to be happy homemakers. To plan meals and do the weekly shopping. To nurse children and have dinner ready by six. Responsibilities and life stages that had given her mother purpose - a purpose that mostly eluded Y/N. Every comma and quotation mark inferred fault. And Dr. Ellis had read her responses like a disappointed teacher.

Somehow the filmstrips, accompanied by a crackling LP, were worse. Mr. Provider and Mrs. Housewife were featured. He consistently came home on time. She always wore an apron. The narrator's spiritless voice contrasted with the cheery soundtrack while matching Y/N's mood. A lively ping! cued them to advance to the next still, a duty switched between her and Jeff to practice teamwork. At least the sidelong looks they shared could still connect them.

The slides, the homework, the speeches. They all pointed to one problem: her. Her parents were a model couple. Didn't she know encouraging her husband in his livelihood was her job? That his main obligation was to invite her to share his success? She had to mend her ways. Make herself more attractive. Be grateful he displayed his affection by returning to her after a long day at the office; he could just as easily hang out at The Rusty Boot.

Not a little indignant, she'd stared at Jeff's profile. Downcast eyes betrayed his regret and assured she'd maintain composure, for his sake if nothing else. She fixed her focus on Dr. Ellis and gave the situation a good, long think. Jeff had never questioned her ambitions. Who the hell was this jackass to judge?

She'd covered Jeff's hand, rubbed his knuckle with her thumb. "You're the expert here, doctor. But isn't it possible neither party is at fault?"

"Mrs. Thompson, I've heard that misconception from many of my clients. It's never led anywhere positive. Now-"

"But what if they're both good people?" she interrupted, hanging onto diplomacy by a thread. Her resolve stayed, even as her volume lowered at the prospect of wounding the man she'd loved as a girl. "Good people who've grown apart?"

Dr. Ellis took what she'd learned was his usual position on the corner of his cherry desk. "You're mistaking natural sex differences for incompatibility. Not every husband allows his wife to work outside the home." His paternal smile hadn't diminished the sting of his words. "If you want your marriage to thrive, I'd advise a little more maturity. And I think I have just the book to help you."

Twenty tons of silence festered on the ride home, louder than the pulse beating her eardrum. Distress distracted her from noticing the run in her stockings. And it was drizzling. She cracked the passenger window of the Lincoln Continental, anyway. Closed her eyes at the bite of raw air against her overheated face.

"Look, I don't agree with what that guy says," Jeff started. He pulled at the gearshift and flicked the turn-signal. "Not when it comes to you."

As the car came to a stop, she swiped at her eyes. "I'm not going again." The press of a napkin to her palm prompted a mix of appreciation and annoyance. For his courtesy and that he'd detected her tears. "Do you even like being married to me?"

"Y/N-"

"Please." She flinched at his attempt to embrace her. "Don't spare my feelings."

Headlights from a passing car flashed in the cabin, revealing his stretched lips. He raked back his thinning hair. The quiet shake of his head when he moved to gaze at her was a relief. "I miss the girl I fell in love with."

She offered a slight shrug and pulled the corners of the tissue. "I don't like it, either."

His rapid blink softened her posture, along with the recognition that the dream they'd had was also out of reach for him. "I'm proud of the woman you've become," he said. "Even if she's not what I need."

"I don't want to be a lawyer's wife." A quiet laugh bubbled up. "The oral arguments are terrible."

He checked his blind spot and put the sedan back into drive. "I'll file the papers tomorrow. We can tell your parents and sister together. If you'd like." After some seconds, she'd slid across the bench seat and put her head on his shoulder, heartened by an affinity she'd nearly forgotten.

Counseling techniques must have evolved, Y/N considered. Perhaps Patricia would find help instead of blame. If not, tips in women's magazines were a tacky if economical alternative. She'd have to check the breakroom at work for forgotten issues.

She hopped off the counter and poured herself another cup of decaf. "Let me know if we can do anything. And how it goes."

"The first few sessions were great. I picked up a few booklets. 'Modern Marriage,' 'The Complete Woman...' Oh!" Paper shuffled as Y/N put back the milk. "'Enrichment & Exploration: Tips for Bedroom Fun.' I tried reading it with Robert the other night, but he left when I mentioned massagers and blindfolds."

"He's sixty," Y/N snorted. "Give him time."

Peeking around the corner, she spotted Arthur in his writing nook. He stood to stretch, then grab his lighter and pack of Stuttons. The low sit of his pajama bottoms was enough of a temptation for her to tuck her lip. An unexpected spasm tickled her abdomen. "Brief me on the blindfold chapter."

~~~~~

Nervous anticipation had kept her feverish for hours, ever since she'd bid farewell to Arthur with a "Save a smile for me" on her way out the door. His clumsy smooch lingered as she changed the date on her rubber stamp. While she cleaned the office refrigerator, she spent a good sixty seconds pressing a cup of expired yogurt to her flush cheeks. When the shoulder strap of her canvas bag gave out, she shrugged rather than cursed and settled the tote in her lap. With her plan in mind, the corners of her lips refused to relax .

After working the grand opening of the Gotham Mall, Arthur had the workshop she'd registered him for, a beginners' seminar for stand-ups. He'd be home right around six. That would give her thirty minutes to change into her mini nightdress with the ruffled hemline, dab musk oil behind her earlobes, and put on an LP. Dinner would be delayed - neither of them would be in the mood if they were too full. If she remembered correctly, they had a pizza in the freezer, the good kind with the real pepperoni and rising crust. She just had to figure out if she should wait in the bedroom or lounge on the sofa like a poor-man's Lauren Bacall.

As she unlocked the apartment, however, there came a muffled phomp-phomp-phomp. The unmistakable sound of a sink plunger. Fuck. This was the third time this month. Pushing through the door, she hoped the super had called a different plumber. It had taken ages to clean up the stray sediment left behind by the last one. Upon entering, Arthur's plaid bag came into view, next to his keys on the counter. A glance into the kitchen confirmed he was trying his hand at the repair. 

"Hey." Y/N hung her coat, glad her consternation was hidden by the wall. "What happened to your class?" she asked with deliberate playfulness. "Did they decide you were too advanced?" She crossed her arms and moved to the doorway. Tried to hold onto the tendrils of fading arousal by taking him in.

A pleased chuckle. "The instructor left a message." Phomp-phomp-phomp."It'll be rescheduled."

"I know you were looking forward to it." The rolled-up sleeves of his shirt and flexing biceps were having the right effect. She ambled towards him. "Let me help."

"It's fine. I had to do this a lot at my old place." The set of his jaw tightened as it gave it another go.

They went through the litany of usual questions. Arthur contently reported the mall had gone well, except for a couple of teenagers who'd given him grief at the start. ("Nothing serious. They were just kids.") Her nine-to-five had been quite low-key, she explained, and had allowed her to catch-up on a backlog of paperwork. ("With the new judge, we keep having to file motions for correction.") But when he asked about this evening, she mused and tapped her fingertips on the counter. Horny, annoyed at her thwarted plan, yet nevertheless itching to seduce him

Water streamed as he turned the faucet's handle, followed by his satisfied hum. He tidied up, then washed to his elbows. Grabbed the nearby dish towel and pivoted on his heel to face her. "What is it?" he asked at her lack of response. He wiped his hands a little harder. "I thought you'd be glad I'm already here."

Seeking to allay his concern, she scooted next to him with a gentle nudge. "You know I am. You've been running through my head all day." She scrunched her nose. "I just had this idea for a romantic evening and wanted to surprise you."

"Oh." Pink colored his chiseled cheekbones and his eyes softened. "You still could. I'd like that." Ardor sparked anew in her belly. Unfurled as he leaned into her, grin cutting across his mouth and straight into her heart. "Would ten minutes be enough?"

Her toes curled. His enthusiasm for her, for them, had a habit of sending electricity up her spine. "Better make it eight," she pronounced.

A sharp nod and a pat to her bottom later, he dashed off. Once the bathroom door shut, Y/N rushed to rummage in his workbag, delighted when she found her prize. She scurried to the stereo and put on one of her soul records. Adjusted the volume to a suggestion instead of distraction. Though the genre wasn't his favorite, it never failed to induce the swivel of his hips. Unbuttoning, unzipping, she made her way to the bedroom. Yanked off her tan skirt and jacquard sweater before carelessly tossing them in the nearby chair.

She'd just gotten settled on the foot of the bed when Arthur sauntered in. Clad in his white briefs and wrinkled socks. "That was five," she said and wadded her pantyhose to hurl at him.

He dodged it easily, stepping forward to gaze at her with hooded eyes, their clear green darkened with need. He licked his lips. "I think it was four." Without further preamble, he knelt between her legs. Scrambling up the bed, she kicked subtly against his hold on her calves. Bit her lip on a giggle as he crawled over her lap to smother her with kisses. She rested on the headboard and nabbed his red and gold Carnival tie from under her pillow.

He quirked a dark brow. "What, you want me to wear it?"

Before any reservation could resurface, she smoothed the broad neck of the tie over her eyes and secured it loosely at her temple. Hesitation floated through the air. Threatened to pierce the veil of desire that enveloped her. She wondered what he was waiting for. If he was wearing that wolfish grin he saved for the bedroom. Or if a modicum of anxiety had spawned. She had sprung this on him without prior discussion. The muffled music from the living room switched to the next song. She attempted to peek under the bottom of the makeshift blindfold, tried to make out more than a vague shadow in the muted light.

But then he sunk into her. Wrapped his arms around her shoulders and pressed her into the mattress. "If you're uncomfortable, tell me," he murmured into her mouth. "Please."

The implication of his request, albeit more loving than licentious, wracked her with want. She couldn't halt her shudder. Blindly, she reached to cup his face. "I trust you," she promised. To both him and herself.

His round nose dragged down the underside of her jaw. "Where'd you get this idea?"

The caress of his smile on the crook of her neck caused a delicious heaviness to settle in her center. "A pamphlet."

"On what?" He tugged at the knot between her ample breasts. Fondled her through the thin satin. "How to make your husband high-strung?"

She carefully skimmed the rigid bulge in his briefs with her knee. "It was actually on how to loosen him up," she retorted. He always loved it when she paraphrased one of his jokes.

Every hushed kiss, every whisper of him against her flesh was magnified. Forced her to concentrate solely on him, to pay attention to each move he made. His humid, hot breath teased her nipple, prompted it to pebble with a twinge. When she released an embarrassingly desperate whimper, he snorted lightly and slipped his palm to the middle of her back. Following his lead, she arched into him. His soft curls brushed her as he laved her areola, swirled his tongue around it, her skin coming alive at the contact. Weathered hands that had so eagerly learned how to touch her groped her neglected breast, rolled its peak between slender, nimble fingers. She fisted the pillow, tipped her head, and grasped his shoulder with a cry. "Arthur..."

Getting her going usually wasn't difficult. Especially when she'd been thinking about making love for an inappropriate number of office hours. But the suspense of not seeing where he'd next pet her, of every caress being a discovery, had her core already pulsing for him. The intrigue was a treat. The best case she'd ever worked on. His strokes walked a path to every clue.

His fingertips skimmed her inner thighs. Groaning, he hooked them under the waistband of her bikini, tugged until she lifted her rear. He pulled them off hastily. With a gentle pressure, he encouraged her to open herself to him. She did so gladly, splaying her legs without a hint of self-consciousness. The relatively cool temperature of the room hit her hot, swollen folds and she quivered.

Then there was an odd sensation at her clit. Scratchy. Rough like a canvas. And was that a corner? After a few seconds it was clear it wasn't doing it for her. And she didn't think Arthur was trying to wipe away her slick. Reaching down, she found a twisted bedsheet in his fist. She was relieved he hadn't run to the kitchen for ice.

"Not good?" he asked.

She softened the blow. "You feel better."

The pad of his thumb trailed over her patch of springy hair, a faint tease that sent a dizzying current racing through her limbs. She strove towards him but he didn't oblige. Rather, he took her hand and placed it on her labia. Guided her to dip within her inner lips. A short moan left her, at the sensation and the sound of his increasingly labored breathing, tinged by his deep voice. "You look like sex," he blurted.

Laughing, she halted. Whenever something brazen spilled from his mouth, however left-footed, she adored it. She clasped his sides. "What does that mean?"

"If I'd seen you in a magazine," he started, moving to settle over and straddle her. His hard-on grazed her abdomen, leaving a damp trail of his arousal in its wake. Even as she wondered when he'd taken off his underwear, her muscles tensed and she gasped. Playful pecks met her cleavage. "You'd be pasted on every page of my journal."

Her reply slipped out before discretion could take hold. "We better buy a Polaroid." A stitch of reluctance before she added, "Just keep them in your desk."

He uncurled her fingers and pressed her palm to his chest. "Touch me," he whispered, pleaded. Her pulse quickened. With an unhurried deliberation, he guided her over the peaks and valleys of his body. The lean pectorals she loved to nuzzle after a weary day. The freckled indent of his sternum. Downward, to the slightly loose skin around his navel, then the soft, toned curve of his abdomen.

Unable to resist, she stretched to chart the ridge of muscle leading to his groin. "You make me so wet."

He let out a bashful giggle, edged with excitement. The instant he rasped his next words against her forehead, she knew he was doing his damnedest to rival her. He pushed her hand to his erection. "You make me so hard."

She followed the bulging vein from base to tip, encircled him with a firm grip. The vibration of his harsh grunt rumbled through her and he jerked forward. Released her wrist to stroke her vulva and flick back and forth along her aching nub. Focusing on the satiny feel of his flesh, the heaviness of his length, she felt petite. Feminine. Powerful. Her hand glided between his legs, cupped the sensitive skin with care. His practiced rhythm faltered. The elbow beside her ear trembled.

While he was a captivating visual, one she missed, her imagination was determined to compensate for her lack of sight. Breathless moans spun her fantasies. Perspiration tickled her nose, woodsy and sweet, conjuring memories of his taste in her mouth. Then all at once he was inside her, going down on her, sucking at her while fucking into her. Impossible feats that nevertheless caused a fever in her brain. "Oh, god," she mewled. Her wanton writhing hastened. She ground against his thigh. "I want your cock in me."

He took hold of himself as she held herself open. The blunt tip of him slid just inside her entrance, a drop when she needed an ocean. She grabbed his hips and thrust upward, hissing as he stretched her completely. "You're fucking tight," he uttered through clenched teeth.

She smoothed her palms over his back, memorized each notch of his ribs. The odd angle of his distended shoulder. The strong tendons at the nape of his neck. He crushed her closer, until her mouth bumped his clavicle. She nibbled lightly, licked the salty sheen of sweat from its hollow, drawing her name from his lips and rapid bucks of his pelvis. "Fuck me," she said, a command and an appeal.

A creak came from above. She followed his taut arm to find he'd clutched the headboard. It occurred to her, then, that her inability to see had been liberating for him. Enough to let go of his inhibitions, to give voice to the bawdy, wonderful things he'd said, to not worry about his appearance.

She reached to swipe her clit steadily, relentlessly. Tears pricked her eyes as she became weightless. Her frame seized, and she came with a choked cry. She sniffled and laughed into his neck, overwhelmed by him. The way he made love to her as if he sought to erase her earlier trials and replace them with the present.

His throaty, punctuated groans, his fingernails digging into her ass divulged his approaching release. She ran her foot along his calf, relished in his body as its angles pressed into her. He balanced himself on his knees, snapping into her at an erratic pace. Then all at once he moaned sharply and went rigid, cock twitching. She cradled the back of his head while his essence marked her walls, closed her eyes when he sprawled on top of her.

Raking her hands through his loose waves, she swallowed thickly. Although she'd always enjoyed sex, exploring this way hadn't been conceivable with anyone else. Allowing that match to light, allowing herself to fan that flame had been unthinkable. She'd felt inadequate. Unable to live up to others' demands, especially her own. There'd been too many boxes to check. Revealing herself in that way would have been a demonstration of trust she wasn't quite ready for.

Being an established woman on equal footing with her partner wasn't something she'd believed possible. She'd been content to go without and find meaning through her work. Arthur had helped her augment that. She could be tough as old leather or delicate as gossamer without concern he'd see her differently. If expectations were left unmet, their easy discussions and compromises promised they'd never become resentments. They supported each other - authentically and as themselves.

For the first time, she knew she was loved for who she truly was. And she wouldn't have to change to keep it.

Choppy panting gradually ceased, replaced by leisurely, happy sighs. He skimmed her flank, then the curve of her hip. She tickled his midriff gently, only stopping when he reclaimed her lips and slid his tongue against hers. Tenderly, he loosened the knot at her temple. She blinked at the orange, evening light invading her eyes. When his came into focus, they were still dilated, a tad sleepy. And so full of affection her breath caught.

Cheek propped on the heel of his hand, he raised his eyebrows. "How was it?"

"You have to ask?" she chuckled, swatting his backside.

A stray lock tumbled towards her as he bent closer. "I wanna hear it."

"Wonderful." Her thighs tightened, keeping him within her. "What I've been craving all day."

His smile was a slow build, equal parts shy and deservedly smug. Then he stared at his tie. "I- I don't know if I'll ever be able to wear that again."

She snorted and looped it around his neck, secured it with a half-Windsor knot. "You're a professional, Mr. Fleck. You'll manage."

He rolled to her left and yanked open the nightstand drawer to riffle through its contents. "What else is in the pamphlet?"

"Hey!" She batted him half-heartedly, boosted herself on her elbow, and spooned him. "What if I had a surprise hidden in there?"

Undeterred, he huffed. "It wouldn't beat this."

"Patricia told me about it." He stilled and slanted his gaze her way. "I can get a copy."

At first, Y/N assumed he'd contradict her. That he wanted to keep their escapades private. But once a few seconds had passed, Arthur acquiesced with a smirk and snatched a nearby tissue. Wiped himself off and tossed it in the woven wastebasket. He reclined beside her, hands folded behind his head. "Okay. Just don't give away my whole act."

~~~~~

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[whumpeeblog]

TW: Slavery, Torture Mention, Death Mention, Pain, etc.

K, away on a decently long journey with A, chose to let N look after his estate and slaves for a period.

S shivered in her cell, sore from a recent beating. The vase had crashed with a menacing promise of punishment. But it had been an accident. Not only had the whip sliced her back, but the blades of knives and the threatening chokes of torture had harmed her feeble body. Weakened from the pain, S’s brain played pranks of mirages and lethargic daydreams.

Footsteps outside her cell. No. Please no. She had been certain that K was on a journey and she just wanted to be left to suffer alone. Perhaps it was a trick and now he would torture her again. Jingling keys toyed with the brass lock, and flickering light, too bright compared to the heavy darkness, crept into the cell.

K had instructed N, a close friend and distant relative, as to what each individual slave and prisoner would get for meals and work, as well as for torture. Burning hatred of cruelty towards any living creature stabbed at his heart. K had demanded the torture and work of the wretch in this cell, however, and he had to follow orders.

K had assumed S was too mangled to be recognized, and she knew the rules of speaking out of turn. N would never know it was her. He hadn’t seen her in nearly three years, and her rebellious spirit ran much more wild then.

Soft light dripped onto the figure shaking like a leaf in the corner of her cell. She was unrecognizable to him, just another slave. K had destroyed her, breaking her into something she was never meant to be.

N stepped into the cell, keys ringing in his fingers and a lit torch in the other. He set the flaming stick into a holder in the wall, then took another step. With each thump of his leather boots against the floor, the pain filled whimpers and sobs of the captive grew more desperate.

N crouched closer, and the girl sunk herself further into the wall, gritting her teeth to keep from crying out in pain.

Hardly a face, covered in bruises and crimson gashes, hung towards the floor. A mangled, broken body melted its way into the stone walls behind it. Muffled wails quietly rung in the dungeon.

N knelt towards the girl, preparing to lift her off of the floor. As his lean figure came nearer, S’s whimpers became more and more horrified.

S’s heart ached to scream for mercy, but there were punishments for that. She remained as silent as possible while failing to hide her trembling tears.

N’s kind heart stung for the child on the floor, her form crushed and shattered by her master. The last thing N wished was to hurt this poor creature, and the last thing she wanted was for him to touch her.

Gentle fingers softly caressed the abused face, feeling the pale skin shiver in fear beneath them.

“Look at me,” N whispered. Something about this prisoner was familiar.

S’s ivy eyes rose hesitantly, but the moment they struck N, his own eyes widened in shock and disbelief.

Those eyes were familiar. He had seen the tortured face many times before, but... it wasn’t possible. K had murdered her years ago. She had been tortured, then her head cut off, or at least, that’s what everyone had been led to believe. Couldn’t be. She was dead.

Dew drops clung to the long lashes that framed the eyes staring into his soul.

“S?”

The syllables startled the wretch and she grimaced and pinned herself even harder against the wall. All she wished was to hide away, to be ignored.

N’s soul broke with the realization that she didn’t remember him just yet. This had to be her, and he couldn’t hurt her, no matter what K threatened.

“Child, I’m not going to hurt you.” N cautiously brushed through her matted hair with his fingers in an attempt to gain trust.

S gradually recognized the man. N. The last time she had seen him failed to reappear in her mind. Perhaps he had changed. Surely this was a trap. Either way, K would return and N would give him a report on her, so she best remember her place.

Chains rattled as N removed the rusty collar tethering S to the wall. The chains connecting her ankles dropped. Tears fell throughout the entire process and she internally begged N not to hurt her.

She must obey him, and prove that she was a good slave, to avoid more pain. He couldn’t possibly be the same N who saved her life five years ago, or the same man who convinced D not to hurt her countless times.

A soft jolt singed S’s cut covered body, and whines escaped her as N lifted her body into his arms. Even his soft skin sent agonizing torment through her when he touched any of her wounds.

“Shh..” N cooed, almost fooling the girl with his gentle tone and soft eyes.

Whatever he was going to do to her, it would end in pain. He was just like K now, S was sure of it. K had been soft with her at times too, but he always seemed to run back to the realization of what a lowly wretch she was. She deserved the pain. She would beg for punishment, then perhaps N would tell K what a good prisoner she had been.

Although N attempted his best to lightly carry the girl, each step threw painful pressure on S’s injuries. She groaned. Groans transformed into sobs.

N couldn’t handle seeing the child in such torment. He set her down against a wall, then used his knowledge of the human body to provoke a pressure point, sending S into unconsciousness.

Unfamiliar sheets burned against bloodied skin as S shifted in her ending sleep. Eyes flushed open in shock. Green pupils stared into the crinkling brown ones above her, almost immediately shifting back down.

Oh god I made eye contact. I should ask for punishment. If I do, he won’t tell K and he’ll know I didn’t mean to. But if I talk, he’ll punish me.

The grieving child flinched in preparation for the sting that never came. Her skin jolted when tender fingers dragged themselves through her damp- wait damp?

Puzzled, S’s hand shakily lifted to slip through her slick roots. Had he- bathed her? Surely he must know she didn’t deserve such generosity. The sore wounds had been wrapped and cleansed as well. This tactic was familiar to her. He would show her mock kindness, healing her wounds, only to torture her again when her body was strong enough.

What if K hadn’t actually left, and he had simply sold her? This was a different castle after all... actually... she knew this place. D’s castle. These walls had distanced themselves for three years. And now she was back. The memory of her first visit haunted her. Her body flung to the floor. Her defiant screams of fear and pain. Before K broke her. Before she became what she was meant to be.

N’s words interrupted her thoughts.

“How are we feeling, lass?”

“Better, Master. Thank you. I don’t deserve your kindness.” The raspy voice barely croaked.

His tone tricked S into almost believing he wasn’t angry for the unwanted eye contact. Surely she wouldn’t remain unpunished.

“Dinna think ye were still alive after all these years. K w’d have us believe he’d tortured ya and killed ye. I can see he’s had his fair share of fun wit ya, hasn’t he?”

N’s velvet voice calmed S and she nodded, a saltwater drop searing a gash on her cheek. N’s hand drove towards her face, and his thumb wiped her tears as his palm cupped her trembling cheek.

“Hush, darling.”

“I’m sorry, Master. Forgive me. It’s not my place to cry.”

“No, no, you’re alright,” N cooed.

“I should be punished, sir. Please. I shouldn’t have cried before and I shouldn’t now. Please discipline me and teach me my place,” S’s whines for authority grew frantic. She had to be taught. If she wasn’t, she would forget what she was. They would have to break her all over again.

“No, love. Hush now.”

N grappled a chilly wet cloth. Frosty shudders danced through S when N dabbed her forehead with the rag. Her voice broke into a moaning tremor. All she wanted was to be punished. Sparing the pain now would create more torture later. Disdain blended with agony laced her high pitched whimpers when N’s soft hand guided the cloth against her face.

“I’ll make us supper. What’d ya like, lass?”

Utter confusion clogged S’s brain. He couldn’t have just asked her that. It must be a trap. She wasn’t allowed to eat unless specifically ordered to, hence the ribs that popped out with every intake of breath. She was merely a skeleton, hidden beneath a paper thin blanket of marred skin. S’s stomach was only given barely enough sustenance to pump her heart for a bit longer each day.

The few times that she had attempted to sneak food, S had been punished mercilessly, then given the opportunity to eat as a test of obedience. This must be another quiz of compliance. Although the punches of starvation beat her insides, S understood that the pain resulting from gluttony would be much worse.

Her new master’s patient gaze saturated her with concern.

“What do you want to eat, girl?”

“I’m ok, Master. I don’t eat a lot.”

That’s it. Perhaps he was testing her to see how much she required to continue breathing. If she showed she didn’t eat a lot or need much to survive, he would let her live. If she didn’t take much from him, he would keep her alive and let her serve him.

N stared through her pale body sorrowfully, a pang of guilt and pity trampling him like the wheels of a speeding train. The poor child. Someone had to help her. What had K done to her? What had become of his little lass? Where was the defiant young child who would have fought tirelessly for her innocent life? Was she dead, or was she simply hiding behind a submissive mask of the years of torture she had been subjected to? Patience for K was thinning. S belonged to him though. There was nothing to be done except show mercy to the captive while she was under his care.

K had ordered her torture when she was healed enough. N refused. Even if he did antagonize her, who knew how long her frail body could handle it?

“Come along, lass,” N softly demanded, whispering so as not to startle the girl. He gently settled his arm around S’s back, and she whimpered when his skin brushed against her freshly bandaged tissue. His strength assisted in hoisting her body upright, then he placed out both of his arms for S to use as leverage.

The hint wasn’t immediately taken.

“Place your hands on my forearms.”

Finally, an instruction. S’s sliced wrists snaked onto N’s tan arms, and with a groan, she lifted herself to stand.

“Go wait in the kitchen for me.”

S lowered her head and obeyed the order, limping out the door and down the halls. As she leaned against the walls for support, her delirious brain began to recognize the place. She had not seen these walls in forever, but they remained the same as they were two years ago. Her suffering body hobbled past K’s old suite, as well as D’s, and the years of torment came thrashing back. Pushing the tears in her mind aside, S slowly tripped down the stairs and into the main kitchen. The layout was similar, if not almost identical, to the entertainment, living, and kitchen area of K’s home.

Rather than hop towards the fridge and pick out a meal, S launched herself to her knees, and waited, head down and body prepared for any punishment or mere entertainment N wanted. The impending footsteps thumped down the staircase.

“What’re ye doing?” N’s bewilderment intertwined into his tone. “Git yerself up off da floor.”

S clamored to stand as tall as her crackling spine would allow her, but a slight slump in her body bent her like a weathered tree. Her right hand crossed in front of her to grasp her left wrist, a sign of submission and preparedness to be bound, if her master saw fit. Her head sank. She was do careful not to look her superiors in the eye. If she proved she was a good slave, maybe N would let her live, or at least make her death quick and painless.

Whether N’s intentions were to execute or torture S hid themselves. She had skimmed kindness and humaneness in his amber gaze, but she had witnessed the same thing from K before. He had shown her leniency many times, and she had even seen a tear shed once or twice, but he always ended up afflicting her again. She couldn’t trust those eyes, regardless of how promising and honest they seemed. Proving her worth would save her life, so she thought. She was a terrible slave. A wretch. An enemy who had been shown mercy. She deserved whatever awaited her in the dungeons; whatever waited behind N’s reassuring hand.

[theonetheycallhannah]

The Treatment of Captain Syverson-Chapter 19: Debridement

Characters: Captain Logan “Sy” Syverson, Shane Benton (OFC), various other original supporting/secondary characters

Summary: Shane begins to process life after her trauma, and Sy delivers the news of her safety to the people that matter most to her…but there is pushback on a few aspects of his report.

Romance and Smut Abound HERE!

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: Mostly fluff, but with mention of Shane’s trauma in the cellar. Not graphic. 

Author’s Note: My darling readers! Thank you so much for your patience as I deal with seasonal stress, fatigue, anxiety, and some depression. It was my goal to have all chapters of this story done by the end of this year. I don’t think I’ll accomplish it, but I’ll do my very best to get at least one more chapter up by the 31st. 2020 has been a totally shit year, but I will forever owe it some remarkable things. This story, which has been an amazing escape from real life, the friends I’ve made from all over my country and the world, many of them because of this story, and a long overdue shift in my work hours starting next week. I’ll be glad to see the back of it, but the year has really opened me up to new ideas and some major soul-searching. I think, mentally, I’m actually more myself than I’ve ever been, despite some blue times. You can all take some credit for that improvement, because many of my moments of clarity have arisen from brilliant and profound posts here.

The title of this chapter seemed appropriate for a few reasons. Wounds are cleaned and cleared of damaged tissue during debridement. This is one of the steps usually required for a large and/or traumatic wound to heal. We see Shane beginning this process here in this chapter, and in a sense, Sy, as well. The cleansing of Shane in both the literal and figurative sense was so interesting and satisfying to write. And Sy’s bit at the end was a fun puzzle in which I had to figure out how to have Sy give the same news to four different recipients without sounding repetitive. I hope that landed, and if anyone has any suggestions, please let me know.

Disclaimer: Unfortunately for me, Henry is not mine, le sigh, and all mention of him, his characters, any characters from his films, or his precious doggy, Kal, are strictly for transformative and recreational use. I neither ask for, nor accept payment for the work I post on Tumblr or AO3. Unbeta’d because this is for fun and escapism. This is an original work by me, Hannah. Please reblog if you wish to share. Please do not repost either in whole or part, as the work of anyone but myself. Thanks so much for reading!

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X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@

Shane still felt as if her head was floating above her body, like a balloon on a long string. The combination of meds in her system had helped many of her symptoms. The pain she felt, the physical pain, had been alleviated. Her troubled mind had been put at ease, more or less. But that was a long time ago. And unfortunately, the side effects weren't wearing off at the rapid rate of the intended ones.

As she sat in the SUV--the escape vehicle-- parked outside a large building the size of a small airplane hangar, she tried not to think about what Sy and his pals were discussing just outside the vehicle. She tried not to reflect on the past few days that she had convinced herself would be her last. She tried not to think about what -- or, really, who -- was inside that building.

She thought about seeing Elliott again. The man who had planned to kill her, and almost succeeded. A part of her wished he had, because she wasn't sure she knew who she was anymore. She was a stranger to herself. And living like this seemed so much more difficult than a quick painless death. She couldn't bear the thought of being in view of him.

But another part of her wanted to go in there and end his life herself. That part of her could pull the trigger on a gun aimed at his head. That part of her could bury a knife in his kidney, or sever an artery. Her anatomy and physiology courses could serve her well here. She had dangerous knowledge. Maybe that's why doctors often seem so full of themselves. They possess the knowledge to end life, and yet they choose to save it. It sort of puts things into perspective. Maybe they're justified in their hubris.

Still one more part simply wanted to go home, clean up, and lay naked in her soft sheets with Sy wrapped around her. Warmer and more comforting than any blanket had ever been. She had remembered missing him so much. She thought now about his gentle, loving hands on her, his mouth tasting her so delicately, his…

But then her mind was ripped from the sensual thoughts of Sy and back to her horrific memories from that cellar. The hands of strangers, rough and hateful, their mouths full of words like bile or the grunts of their own violent fulfillment.

Her nightmare of a daydream was abruptly interrupted by the opening of the back passenger door. She jumped, and looked at the source of the noise with wide-eyed terror. It was only Sy, but she couldn't school her face into a softer expression, even after realizing she was safe.

"Oh, Sunshine, I'm so sorry I startled ya! You okay?"

She said nothing, just let out her held breath woefully.

"Let's head home. I'll get your purse and bag of clothes here."

"I don't want those clothes. Throw them away. And these shoes are going in the trash as soon as possible, too."

"Okay. I'll toss it. You sure?"

"I never want to see that bag again. I'm positive."

He nodded, grabbed her purse, and went around to help her out of the vehicle.

One of Sy's friends approached them from the building.

"You guys okay? You'll make it home alright?"

"Yeah, Matt, we'll be okay. I'll be in touch soon about next steps."

"You got it, Captain. Anything you need, let us know."

"Will do. Thanks for everything you've already done. I owe ya."

"You don't owe me a thing, brother. You don't owe any of us. Not after everything you've done for all of us…for everyone."

Sy just nodded at Matt, and turned toward his truck, steadying Shane all the way to the passenger door.

The drive to Shane's house was quiet. Sy kept one hand on the wheel, holding hers in the other. She felt safe, but she couldn't shake the uneasy feeling inside her. Like the other shoe would soon drop, and her love would be taken away again.

When they were safely parked in her driveway, Sy took her keys out of his pocket, apparently having gotten them from his friend who'd drove her car from Elliott's to the airplane hangar place. He walked around to get her, and helped her to her door. She kicked off her shoes immediately when she stepped inside her shadowy living room. She had left the same lamp on that she always did, but it was dimmer now, having been on almost a whole week.

"Bath?" Sy asked. Shane nodded slowly. She would need a long soak to erase this feeling.

Sy got the bath water ready while she found some clothes to put on after. She laid her comfiest lounge pants and her favorite sweat shirt on the bed and walked toward the bathroom. She was soon hit with the comforting aroma of lavender, chamomile, and vanilla as soon as she stepped through the doorway. He had used her favorite bubble bath and salts.

"Check that water temp. I think it's about right." he requested. It was perfect. She started to peel off the stiff paper scrubs she was still wearing, but he insisted on helping her. As she stood before him, even though he'd seen every inch of her body before, she felt more naked and exposed than ever. She looked at him, noticed tears welling in his eyes, and dropped her gaze to the bath mat under her feet. Her skin, typically immaculately clear, olive perfection, was now peppered with dozens of bruises. She felt like a dalmatian, covered in spots. She chuckled inside herself at the thought of one of her favorite Disney films featuring the breed most heavily.

Sy's strong, but gentle hands landed softly on her upper arms. His lips lit tenderly on her forehead. "Ready?" he asked. She nodded and stepped into the large, garden tub full of steaming water. It stung her feet, ankles, and calves, but she still bent to sit, wincing as her tender petals and behind met the medicinal broth. Sy held her hand as she stepped in and guided her down. She closed her eyes at the soothing pain of the hot water and did not open them until she felt the water level rise. Sy had stepped in with her, wearing just his boxer-briefs, and was sitting on the side of the tub. He reached for the hand shower, and turned the water back on, slightly less warm, but still soothing and soaked her hair, directing the water away from her face. He had thought to grab her shampoo from the shower, as well, and was lathering some up in his hands to apply to her wet strands. It felt like heaven to have his fingers in her hair like this. Relaxing and soporific. He kept at it until she was certain he must be getting pruney, not to mention tired.

After carefully rinsing her hair of the coconut-scented lather, he grabbed the lavender foam bath she loved, and worked it up in one of the wash cloths he'd brought from the linen caddy between the sink and shower. He massaged the suds into her tired and injured skin over her back, then requested each leg in turn, kneading her calves and feet as she took another of the cloths and washed her face with the rich cleanser she kept by the bath, typically using it only on her "spa days" but feeling that it would nourish her battered cheeks and nose better than anything else. Sy's ministrations filled her with a kind of blissful contentment. She couldn't help but wonder if she deserved him. She always had thought she deserved the best things in life, even though her romantic past didn't tend to pan out that way. She'd worked very hard and often allowed herself to invest in quality. But now…she felt broken, in spite of herself. She'd have to tell Sy all that happened to her one day, and when that day came, he'd probably realize how damaged she really was, and he'd leave. Just like everyone else always did. She knew the conversation needed to come sooner rather than later, but couldn't bring herself to break the spell yet.

Sy let her soak for as long as she was comfortable until the water grew tepid. She looked up to him, sitting on the side of the tub, legs now outside, his gaze like twin seas met hers. He had been watching her, it seemed. As if worried that she would dematerialize if he looked away. Her bath robe was draped across his lap, as was a large bath towel. She moved to stand from the now chilled bath water, and Sy was immediately up to aid her rising. He held her hand as she stepped out of the tub and dried her top half before helping her don the robe, then continued to dry her bottom half.

"Go on in there and get comfortable, Sunshine. I have a few phone calls to make. I wanna let your folks know you're okay and I wanna tell Detective Clarkson you've been found. Anyone else you want me to get in touch with?"

"Umm, do you know if my brother and sister know what's happened to me?"

"They do. They should both be at your parent's house by now from what I gathered when I visited."

"Okay, so mom or dad will let them know. I guess you should call Susan, and let her know that I'm alive but won't be in this week. On my fridge, there's a phone directory for everyone in my department. But first, call Heather. I don't want her to worry any longer. Call her right after mom and dad. And tell them all I'll have them over tomorrow, but I can't tonight. I'm…"

She didn't even know what she was. Tired, sore, depressed, hopeless, and angry. A combination of so many feelings and emotions coursed through her.

"I'll work it out. You get in bed, and I'll be back in when I'm done with these calls, okay?" she nodded. He continued, "I love you, darlin.'" and wrapped his arms around her, making her feel almost whole again.

"I love you." she replied. Holding back tears until he had left the room.

~~~~~~

Shane realized she hadn't brushed her teeth in…far too long. She donned her sleeping clothes and went into the bathroom again to complete a comprehensive oral hygiene routine.  Sy had been gone for about a half hour, during which time, his absence felt like a noose around her neck. Or an anvil on her chest. It made it feel like hours had passed rather than mere minutes. She was fidgety. When he finally re-entered, she breathed a sigh of relief.

"Do you need anything, sweet pea?"

"Just you."

Sy crawled under the covers with Shane to spoon her, arm laying over her rib cage. She winced, as the bruises on her torso were disturbed at the contact, but she didn't ask him to adjust. Despite the dull pain, this was what she needed. Sy's protecting arm around her.

"Did you get a hold of everyone?" She asked, sleepily.

"I did. Your family are eager to see you, but they understand your need for rest. Heather says that you better let her come over soon, because she's holding your phone hostage until you pay her in hugs. They all send their love."

"And Susan?"

"Yeah, that woman is a piece of work, I know, but I think she's going to come through for you. She's going to have them hold off on scheduling patients with you until you're better, and put both weeks in as vacation. She said you have plenty of it. But also, if you need more time, she can work out some…family medical leave…thing? She said she'd get the ball rolling on that, and will let you know what you need to do on your end."

"Oh, good. Yeah, she can be an asshole, but sometimes she does right by her employees. What about the detective?"

Sy paused there. "I, uh, I talked to him for quite a while and he said a lot of things. Let's go over the finer points tomorrow at breakfast. Or, rather, today." He said, looking at the blue numbers on the glowing digital clock on Shane's nightstand that indicated the wee hours of the morning were running out. "I'm sure we're both tired enough to grab a few winks, ain't we?" He asked, and she hummed her ascent as she tucked herself closer to his warm, monolithic chest.

As Shane drifted off, she thought she felt a warm kiss, and a whisper at her temple. It sounded like a tearful prayer. She was too far into her sleep to comprehend the words being said.

"Thank you God," Sy whispered. "I know I'm not your most faithful servant, but I am truly grateful that you've kept this treasure of mine alive and brought her back to me. Thank you for reuniting me with the woman I mean to spend the rest of my days with, if she'll agree to it. Thank you."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

About Thirty Minutes Ago-

Sy left the bedroom and began scrolling through his phone for the Benton's number. He pressed the call button with joy.

"Sy?" John answered frantically, just as he did the first time Sy spoke to him.

"John, is everyone there?"

"Yeah, we're all just watching a movie in the family room. Do you have news?"

"I do. You may want to put me on speaker, because everybody's going to want to hear this."

"Okay." and after a brief struggle with the speaker button and help from two younger people Sy presumed were Ethan and Gabby, John was back with the whole family. "Okay, Sy, we can all hear you. What's the word?"

"Oh, it's a very good word, guys. I found Shane and she is alive, and now safe." Cheering from what sounded like a stadium full of fanatics resounded from the ear piece of his cell phone.

"Sy, this is Gabby, Shane's sister. Can we come see her now?" Gabby's tears were evident in her voice. He wished he could tell them yes. But Shane needed her rest.

"I know she would love to see you, Gabby, she'd love to see all of you, but I think what she needs right now is rest. She's been through…a terrible ordeal. I took her to the Emergency Room to get checked out, and she just had a bath and is about to go to bed. She'll want to see you all tomorrow, though. Maybe around lunch time?"

"That sounds good, Sy. We'll bring some of this food over." John said.

"Are you sure we can't come over tonight? I…I want to see my daughter with my own eyes." Margaret said, weepily.

"I truly wish I could tell you yes, Peg, but she's hardly slept the last week, and just had her first full meal since she was taken this evening at the hospital. I really think it's best for everyone if you guys wait until tomorrow when she's more herself and rested." Sy reiterated.

"What about the people who did this to her?" a male voice he didn't recognize asked, assured to be Ethan. "Any leads on them?" He wanted to tell them that most of the men had been dealt with using lethal or nearly lethal force, and that the perpetrator of Shane's misery was locked up in Matt's shop bathroom until they decided just how to take care of him. But he needed to disclose what he knew to as few people as possible.

"The less y'all know, the better. For your own good. At least right now. Just know that whatever justice has not yet been served, it will be very soon."

"That's good enough for me." John offered, in an apparent attempt to bring Ethan on side.

"Thanks, John. I'll take care of her tonight. I won't leave her side. I promise."

"Thank you, son." John replied. Sy appreciated the tender address, but wondered how Ethan felt about his father referring to someone else as his son. Probably not that great. He couldn't worry about that now.

"It's my sincerest pleasure. I want you to know that. She's my world now. I won't let anything else happen to her."

"We know, dear." Peg added.

"Good night. And we'll see y'all tomorrow."

Four incoherent replies rang out before he ended the call. Next was Heather.

"Hello?" she answered in sleepy confusion.

"Heather?"

"Who'sis?"

"It's Logan Syverson. Sy? From PT. Shane's boyfriend."

"Sy! Oh, it's good to hear from you! Any news?"

"The best news, darlin.' Our girl is alive, and home safe." he smiled ear to ear saying the words, but it quickly turned into a wince when Heather shouted for joy in his ear. It was fine. Not like he didn't already have mild tinnitus.

"Oh my GOD! I'm coming over right now!"

"No, Heather, she's resting. She told me she'll see people tomorrow, but I don't think anyone but you and her family should be allowed in right now. She's…well, she's been through seven levels of Hell, and when I look into her eyes, I can still see the fire."

"Shit. Anything I can do?"

"She'll be thrilled to see ya. But tomorrow."

"She better. I have her phone and the ransom is a thousand hugs."

"That's a steep debt." Sy chuckled.

"She can owe me for a while." Heather laughed. "Is she okay?"

What a loaded question. Physically, she was injured, but would heal. Emotionally, that would be more of a journey.

"Honestly, Heather? Not really. The physical stuff is more or less superficial, but…I'm worried about her mental state."

"Poor thing. Please let me know if I can do anything. Anything at all. She's like a sister to me."

"I will. For now, keep the news and the details quiet. I'm gonna call Susan next, and I don't think she'll like it if you know before she does. Just a hunch."

"An accurate one. She'd be furious. I'll keep mum. Thanks so much for putting my mind at ease, Sy. Take care of her."

"I'll do my best. See ya."

He was dreading talking to Susan the most. More than Clarkson. He couldn't quite pinpoint why, but she'd really pissed him off every other time he'd talked to her, and he really didn't think too much of her.

"Hello, this is Susan."

"Hey, Susan, it's Logan Syverson. Shane's boyfriend." He made sure to put the label in there. Remind her that her policy had not been enough to keep them apart.

"Mr. Syverson. Hello. What can I do for you?" her haughty tone was softened a measure with concern for her employee. Even though she didn't ask about her in so many words, he knew that she was wondering.

"Nothing. I just wanted to let ya know, Shane's okay. She's been hurt, and won't be in this coming week, at least. She's in some pain right now, of both a physical and emotional nature."

"What happened?"

"She, uh, hasn't given me a lot of details." Not a lie. "She just escaped from her captor and we found each other." Misleading, but mostly true. "We just got home from the ER." Perhaps a lie by omission of the stop off at Matt's. "They said she'd be okay, but to follow up with her primary for more tests."

"Okay, I'll make sure her schedule is cleared. She has plenty of PTO for these two weeks, but I'll call the FMLA office in charge of family medical leave and short term disability and let them know she'll need some more time off, and see if we can get that going. I'll get with her about the details, and what she'll need to do. I'll text her sometime this week. How's she doing?" Sy thought he heard genuine concern from this dragon woman.

"About as well as someone who's been kidnapped, tortured, and assaulted for a straight week can possibly be, I'd say." Sy's words were civil, but tinged with venom. Even though she was being decent right now, he knew the kind of person she could be.

"Dear God." Susan gasped, shocked at the statement, and Sy wasn't sure whether it was due to the events themselves, or the blunt way he'd told her about them. "Well, I'll do anything I can to help her though this on my end. She's one of my best. I can't…I really don't think I could replace her."

"I'm glad you don't have to try, Susan. Have a nice evenin.'"

"Thanks, Sy, you too."

Sy took a deep breath as he pulled up Clarkson's number and called him. He honestly wasn't completely certain how he was going to explain things, but he'd figure it out. He was good at flyin' by the seat of his pants.

A gruff voice came from the ear piece. "Clarkson."

"Detective, this is Captain Syverson. We spoke about the Benton case a few days ago?"

"I remember you, Sy. What's up?"

"Oh, uh, well, wanted to tell ya you could close the case. I found her." It was the coming conversation in which he would really have to bend the truth or lie altogether.

"Really?! Oh, that's great, man. Where'd ya find 'er."

"I's drivin' 'round, hopin' to come across some lead or sign of her. I was a few miles down highway 100 when I saw a slumped form in one of the ditches. I pulled off at the next drive and went back to check, and it was her. She was hurt, but once she recognized me…I dunno, everything's kind of a blur after that. But I got her checked out at the ER, and brought her home now." Most of that statement was false…but not the recount of them seeing each other for the first time. That was a very real and true fact.

"Highway 100?"

"That's right. Why do you ask?"

"Well, I heard about a terrible, two-vehicle accident on Highway D tonight. No survivors."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that." He wasn't. "I hope there weren't any kids involved." He knew there weren't.

"Nope. All adult males, aged 30-40. Couple of SUVs. One ran off the road, and another…well, it's almost like it was blown up on purpose. Happened just a few miles from town."

"That sounds horrible, but what does an accident on Highway E--"

"It was D. Highway D." Sy knew it was, and had said the wrong thing on purpose.

"My mistake. My question though, is what does that…tragedy have to do with my finding Shane on Highway 100?"

"That's what I'm wondering, myself, Syverson. See, there was some…evidence that suggests military involvement in this incident."

"Well, I'm retired."

"Are you though?  Is anyone ever really retired from the armed forces. No veteran I've ever talked to can seem to shake off the war shackles."

"Well, I ain't shackeled, detective. I'm proud of my time serving my country, but I got no cause to relive it or hang on to it. Especially now that I have Shane. She's my life now. That part of it’s over."

"I guess I have to take you at your word, captain. Got no evidence so far that ties you to the scene. Just…be careful. If you do anything retaliatory to Miss Benton's captor or captors, I won't be able to protect you, no matter how I feel about your actions. Or how justified they might be."

"Understood. I will keep that in mind should I decide to take matters into my own hands." he tried not to let the smile on his face show in his voice.

"Right, well…is she okay?"

"I, uh…I think she will be…eventually. She hasn't said much to me about what happened, but I know it was torture, or akin to it. "

"Well, I hope she recovers quickly. I'll want a statement from her before I close the case."

"Sure thing. As soon as she's ready to talk."

"Great. Thanks for the call, Sy. I'm glad she's safe now. That's all that matters, really."

"Agree. Have a good night, Clarkson."

He ended the call and rubbed his face as head in frustration with his free hand. They'd have to come up with a story. A good one. Close enough to the truth that Shane could feel comfortable telling it, but far enough of a departure that they weren't incriminated in any kidnapping, murder, or manslaughter charges.

But for tonight, they’d rest. And just be glad to be together again.

Up Next: Chapter 20-Second Assist

[alice-angel12x]

Riddle x Mouse!Reader

The reader is a mouse beast-man that is 7.5 inches tall in normal form.

It was odd going to a school completely designed for larger students, and it took a lot of convincing to get the crow man to let me attend the school.

The entrance ceremony was a little awkward cause the headmaster had to lift me to the mirror to be properly signed to a dorm. And wouldn't you know it, I was assigned to the Heartslabyul Dorm. I happily hopped down and climbed up to my seat, next to a redheaded boy. 

He looked so serious, yet he was shaking in his boots, so I thought I would lighten the mood.

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I made it and into Heartslabyul dorm no less.

"Hello there," Squeaked a voice. 

I looked around looking for the source, but only saw Trey and a space next to me.

"Down here," It squeaked again.

I looked down at the chair beside me to see a tiny Person with Mouse Ears and tail. They looked no bigger than a teacup, why is such a tiny student doing here.

"I'm Y/n Angera, What's your name?" Y/n squeaked with a cute smile.

I could feel my heart start to quicken and pound in my chest as I stared at this tiny person, But why, why do I feel this way.

"Are you okay, your cheeks are red," Y/n said in a curious.

"I-It's nothing, M-My name is Riddle Roseheart," I said as I tried to recompose myself.

"It's nice to meet You Riddle," Y/n said as they held out their tiny hand.

"Likewise, So where do you come from?" I asked as I gently shook his hand.

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"I come from Whisker Town," Y/n said squeaked proudly.

Riddle blushed at the tiny person's cuteness, as his heart fluttered in his chest. Riddle tried to compose himself as he looked away from Y/n while muttering something just loud enough for Y/n to hear.

"If you e-ever need help with something just ask, Okay," Riddle mumbled.

Y/n's eyes widened at the sudden offer, but They smiled none the less.

"Thank you, Riddle, that's very kind of you," Y/n squeaked.

"I-It's cause rule #543 of  Heartslabyul, help your fellow Dormmate. You should memorize all the rules," Riddle said with a snobby pout as his cheeks stayed a slight red. 

"well Thank you nonetheless, Riddle," Y/n smiled.

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From that day on Riddle would help Y/n around the school, From helping them get to classes, helping them upstairs, Studing, and other big people tasks. The two would enjoy their study sessions and tea parties together. 

"Y/n that tea cup is too tall and big for you. Your going to fall in," Riddle warned, as he watch the tiny mouse person try to drink from the cup.

"NO, no I got it," Y/n said as he leaned over the lip of the cup.

And just as Riddle warned, Y/n fell into the cup of hot tea. Riddle gasped as he quickly fished out his tiny friend. Y/n coughed up some tea as Riddel craddled them in his hands. Riddle could feel his heart race as Y/n continued to cough up tea, and slowly sit up in Riddles shacky hands..

"I told you not to do that!" Riddle scolded as his heart slowly calmed down.

"In know, but.." Y/n paused, " That was some pretty good tea,"

Trey who was also at the table chuckled slightly as Riddle's face turned red from frustration.

"You could have gotten horribly burned you.. you idiot," Riddle mummled as he put his mouse friend down on the table.

"Sorry Riddle. I didn't mean to scare you like that," Y/n apologized.

"it's fine just don't do that again," Riddle mummbed.

As Riddle spent more time with Y/n, he would notice a few students from their dorm would pick on his favorite tiny friend.

But when he brought it up with the dorm leader, he simply shrugged his shoulders and did nothing. This angered Riddle, as he challenged the Dorm head the next day and won. Making him the youngest dorm head ever.

At first, things were pretty good, Y/n was thankful that Riddle put a stop to the bullying, and it helped them to get along with the other Dormmates. 

But naturally, things slowly started to go downhill. Riddle started to become more and more uptight and strict as the months passed. At first, it wasn't so bad, but then it started to get intense.

When Y/n would be a few minutes late to lunch and drank lemon tea passed a certain time, it was an Instant scolding. If Y/n was fooling around with fellow dormmates st a tea party, is punished by forced to write a 2 paged apology. No one was spared from Riddle's punishment, not even his close friends. Y/n soon found it harder and harder to keep up with all the rules that Riddle enforces.

"Hey Y/n are you feeling okay," Trey asked as he helped his underclassmen up the stairs.

"I don't think I can keep up with Riddle and his rules. Just look at me! How can any think sending a 7-inch tall student, to feed 4 feet tall birds, is a good idea?!" Y/n ranted.

"Well Riddle is just trying to uphold tradition," Trey tried to defend.

"I was almost eaten by a bird yesterday, Trey," Y/n said with an unamused face.

"Well, let's just turn in the apology paper," Trey said not knowing how to respond to that comeback.

"I don't think I want to come back to Heartslabyul anymore," Y/n sighed.

"Y/n don't say stuff like that," Trey whispered.

Little did the two know, Riddle heard everything, and Y/n's words caused Riddle's heart to ache. But he quickly shoved those feeling down and locked his heart as he begrudgingly excepted his Tiny Dormmate apology essay.

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I can't show lenience towards anyone, rules are equal among everyone. If I have to feed the flamingos, everyone feeds the flamingos. I will show no favoritism to anyone, not even you...Y/n.

But it seemed that Y/n meant what they said, cause the next day was the next unbirthday And Y/n was no where to be seen.  They weren't hiding in the tea pots with the door mouses, or playing tricks on fellow Dormmates. They just vanished, but according to Trey he still sees them around and attending to his classes. They've been spending a lot more time with the nonmagic student Yuu and that trouble some first year, then...me.

No if they wishes to be a lazy traitor, fine. So be it. Yet Why do I feel like I've been abandoned?

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"are you sure you can beat Riddle, Ace?" I asked as I held onto his magic blocking collar.

"He sounds pretty strong," Yuu said with a worried tone.

"I can totally could take on that shorty," Ace said with a cocky smile.

"This won't end well," I sighed.

And It really didn't; Riddle was able to beat Ace in a second. Ace being Ace started to spout off about the unfairness of Riddle's reign, while starting a miny revolution in the process. Then everything went to hell. 

____

"Riddle , I challenge you to a duel for the Drom head stautes," Y/n squeaked as they hopped off Yuu's shoulder.

"Haha, A tiny thing like you, Face me?" Riddle laughed with a Cocky smile, " Your just as much as a rule breaker as that first-year, and you will always need the help of others just to do basic student activities. I'm so many leagues above you Y/n. You amount to nothing just like Ace," 

Y/n simple glared at the taller boy, but Riddles gaze didn't go noticed from Yuu. He could see some sort of anger and sadness trying to be covered up with pride and regalness. Y/n just glared as Riddle kept on monologing on and on about the rules.

"What sort of lessons were you taught that you can't even understand that?" Riddle smirked, " Your home town, Whisker Town must be tragic. I bet that you didn't even receive proper education before you step foot into this school. Truly Pathetic".

Y/n's eyes began to water at Riddle's words as they started to try hold back their tears of frustration and anger. With a battle cry Y/n dashed towards riddle as their body began to glow and grow.

Suddenley Y/n was Trey's height, as he ran and punched Riddle square in the nose. Everyone was still in shock at Y/n's spontaniouse growth, but Y/n slowly began to shrink and just bearly met Riddles hip .

"It looks like Mantaining that form drains to much of Y/n's energy," Crowley said as he observes his students.

"So Y/n has to limit his magic use, or else they'll get to tired?" Grim asked.

Suddenly an egg was thrown at Riddle, and everything escalated, as Riddle's overblot took control. With a swift hand movement everyone was wearing Riddle's magic blocking collar, and Y/n was forced back to their 7 inch tall body. The sky turned dark and rubble started to float up into the air as Riddle changed and turned into a monster.

"I am.....! I'm ALONE!! I AM THE ONLY ONE WHO IS ALWAYS RIGHT AND DON'T NEED ANYONE!!" Riddle cried out.

"R-Riddle," Y/n gasped at the transform class mate.

"I do not need anyone who defies me in my world. Or leaves me, I am the absoute ruler. My world itself submits to me!" Riddle laughed darkly as he grabbed Y/n by the tail," I will not tolerate any other answer except, "Yes, Lord Riddle."! 

Riddle tossed Y/n hard onto the ground and Y/n's world went dark.

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"Y/n-san, Y/n-san are you okay?" A voice asked.

Y/n opened their eye's to find themselves in the infirmary, with their head ,left leg, and torso wrapped in banages. 

"Good, your alive. Thank goodness," Yuu sighed in relief.

"What... Happened to Riddle. Is he okay?" Y/n asked slowly.

"Yeah he's fine, You were out for 6 days. Oh and know that your awake, Riddle wanted me to invite you to the unbirthday tomorrow. He wanted to apologise to you," Yuu said.

"Well, umm..... It would rude to turn down an invitation," Y/n smiled wearily.

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Riddle sat nervesly at the main table as he waited for Y/n and Yuu's arrival. A tiny tea set and table was set up for them. 

Soon Y/n and Yuu arrived, as Yuu set Y/n down on the table. Y/n held their minature cruches at their side as they sat down at the tiny set up for them. The two sat in an awkward silence till Riddle cleared his throat to call Y/n's attention.

"I-I wanted to say sorry... For the things I said and for hurting you. I let myself get out of hand," Riddle apologized as  tears ran down his cheeks.

Suddenly Riddle felt a gentle hand wipe away his tears. He looked up to see Y/n, but about his height and was smiling down at him with a kind and soft look.

"I Forgive you Riddle, just please don't cry. It doesn't suite you," Y/n smiled as Riddle blushed slightly.

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