#Enjoy this that was on my drafts before I bid you farewell

[maitanii]

men who would do absolutely nothing to prevent their daughters from decorating their hair with colorful hairpins and clips and painting their nails: ran, draken, seishu, shinichiro, mitsuya, kakucho, koko, wakasa, baji, chifuyu and kazutora

[artemis32]

also the first person to come to mind when you said someone stubborn enough to ignore aizawa’s glare was bakugo, I feel like that would stress aizawa out so bad

platonic yandere aizawa shouta iii

Fun fact my top three favourite characters (in no specific order) in bnha are Aizawa, Bakugo and Shigaraki, so this is perfect

Also I finished this before any of the other subjugation drabbles as requested, but I'm clearing out my drafts, so hopefully I'll be able to post a few more this week

platonic aizawa masterlist

bnha masterlist

Class 1a was up to something. Aizawa knew they were.

They weren’t good at being sneaky, and for the past two weeks, they’d been behaving strangely.

Ever since the class had seen you, he’d been slightly on edge, waiting for something to go wrong. And he knew that it would sooner or later.

Class 1a were disruptive and oftentimes insubordinate. They couldn’t follow the rules and they got into trouble more often than Aizawa could keep count of.

They were troublemakers.

Aizawa knew that.

Which is why he was so suspicious of them.

They had been perfectly behaved in lessons, quiet and diligent, completing every assignment he’d given to them. They hadn’t spoken out of turn or argued once within the past two weeks. Most suspiciously though, must have been the fact that they hadn’t once brought up the question of who you were again.

It made him uneasy.

It made him annoyed.

But instead of addressing the matter as he probably should have, he kept quiet, curious to see what exactly they were up to.

He found out by the end of that week.

****

“Okay sweetheart, I’m leaving now. Are you sure you don’t want to come with me? You’re more than welcome to, it won’t be long.”

You huff out a laugh. Aizawa was running errands and had been repeatedly questioning whether you wanted to come with him. You were sure he was trying to guilt trip you into joining him.

It might have worked.

It was working.

But you were a model student, as so, your homework and assignments had to come first - much to your father’s displeasure.

The only respite was that you’d be staying safely within the walls of UA, specifically in the apartment, which made your father feel much better about leaving you by yourself.

Sometimes you think he forgets that you’re a teenager – old enough to be home alone for a few hours.

“Yes, I’m sure dad. I’ll call you or Mr Yamada if there’s an emergency. I’ll see you later.”

He huffs, accepting that you wouldn’t change your mind.

The hug he draws you into is crushing and he presses your face into his chest. You feel his chest rumble as he lets out a laugh.

“Don’t let Hizashi hear you call him that, you know how much he hates it.”

You scowl slightly. The eclectic blond often insisted that you call him by his first name, or the ever-endearing title of 'Uncle Zashi', making a habit of reminding you every time you happened to accidentally ‘forget’. You enjoyed his company, but his persistent attitude grated on your nerves sometimes.

“Don’t you dare tell him.”

Aizawa laughs again before reminding you to stay safe and call him in the case of an emergency.

You bid him one last farewell before shutting and locking the door. Paranoia seemed to be one of your father’s defining traits when it came to you.

Fifteen minutes later, you’re set up in the living room, surrounded by snacks, stationary, and papers scattered over the floor and coffee table.

****

Three hours later, you decide to call it quits for the day, packing up your belongings and returning to the living room to flop down on to the couch.

You’d been laying on the couch, watching a rerun of some old movie your father enjoyed, when there was a knock at the door.

Thinking nothing of it, you haul yourself up and make your way to the door.

It could have been anyone - Midnight or Present Mic, here to keep you company or watch over you at your father’s request, or it could have been another teacher, here to drop off paperwork for your father. Perhaps it was your father himself, having forgotten his keys.

Living amongst a group of heroes and heroes-in-training makes you comfortable, and you don’t bother checking who is at the door before flinging it wide open.

Two boys and a girl, all around your own age stand before you. One of the boys and the girl look surprised, eyebrows rising, creasing their foreheads. The second boy remains impassive, his dual-coloured eyes trailing over you, head to toe.

“Can I help you?”

They continue to stare at you for a moment before the pink-skinned girl harshly elbows the blond boy next to her.

He exclaims in pain before clearing his throat and smiling widely. 

“Hi there. I was wondering if Aizawa sensei is home?”

If your father had passed one trait on to you, it had to be his suspicious nature. You straighten slightly, nudging the door closed a few centimeters.

“Aizawa sensei is out running a few errands. He should be back soon - would you like to leave a message?”

The boy with the dual-coloured eyes leans forward slightly, his upper body now crossing over the threshold into your apartment.

“May we come in?”

Though he poses it as a question, he doesn’t wait for an answer, already pushing past you and into the hallway behind you.

Your protests fall on deaf ears, and the boy and girl still in the doorway seem to panic alongside you, scrambling in after him.

“Todoroki, you can’t just barge in like that!”

The dual-haired boy - Todoroki - ignores them and chooses to look around the apartment instead, taking in his surroundings with an air of disinterest.

“I have a question. Answer truthfully and we’ll leave.”

His two friends, still panickedly trying to urge him out of your house, still as he speaks. They stare at one another, then at Todoroki, before nodding and looking at you.

By now, you’re anxious and wary, eager to get them out. You take a deep, calming breath.

Doing as they say seems to be the best decision. You didn’t want to stir up trouble, and you definitely didn’t want your father or another teacher stumbling upon the scene.

“Fine, one question and then you’re gone.”

You cross your arms and press your mouth into a hard line, attempting to cover up your anxieties with an air of anger.

The three agree to your terms, Todoroki humming lightly before speaking.

“Is Mr Aizawa your father?”

It’s a loaded question, one you aren’t sure you want to answer. 

While you and your father hadn’t tried to cover up the fact that you were his daughter, you also hadn’t gone out of your way to announce it. The fact that the three standing before you were so curious that they went as far as to basically break into your house to get an answer made you concerned. 

Their eagerness made you believe that it would be best to lie. Then again, what would you tell them - being honest may be the only way to get them to leave without a fuss.

You nod slowly, hesitantly.

“Yes, he is.”

While the boy and girl let out noises of disbelief, Todoroki doesn’t seem to be surprised.

“See guys, told you.”

The blonde boy splutters for a moment, shoulders slumped in defeat.

“Is that all?” You ask apprehensively, still tense and nervous.

An unspoken question lingers in the air.

Will you leave now?

Todoroki nods, thanking you before calling for his two companions.

At the door, he pauses, turning to you one last time.

“Can I ask that you keep this visit a secret, just for a while. Don’t tell Aizawa sensei that we were here. Please.”

His demeanour is serious, though it seems like more of a demand than a request.

You’re already nodding in agreement.

“Yeah, sure.”

Regardless of whether he asked you or not, you wouldn’t have told your father of their visit. The last thing you needed was for his paranoia to be proven correct. 

What he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him, and he definitely didn’t need to know that three students - three of his students - had been to his home to see you while he was away. Worse, that they knew you were his daughter.

If he found out, you’d never hear the end of it. In fact, you were slightly afraid he may never let you leave the house again.

No, you definitely would not be telling him about their visit.

By the time your father returns home hours later, you’ve scrubbed the memory of the three students from your mind, and he seems none the wiser.

The two of you have dinner and talk for a bit before going to bed.

You make no mention of the day’s events, and he doesn’t ask.

****

For the first time in what could have been years, you were in trouble. Big trouble.

From the moment you entered the apartment, it had seemed eerily still, too quiet to be natural.

When you first entered the living room, you saw your father sitting with his back towards you, posture straight and still. He didn’t turn to greet you and you feel a growing sense of unease when he tells you to sit down.

“How was your day?”

You’ve known your father long enough to recognize his tone, to know that he’s not asking because he’s actually interested.

Right now, your father, the ever stoic Shouta Aizawa, was furious.

“Answer me.”

“It was fine, classes were good.”

“Hmm. How about yesterday? What did you do yesterday?”

You’re wringing your hands now, fingers gripping at each other in a feeble attempt to mask how obviously your hands are shaking.

“Y-Yesterday was good, same as today, classes and whatnot...”

You trail off awkwardly, unsure of what exactly he wants to hear. You don’t ask though, some sense of self preservation telling you to keep your mouth shut.

“And the past weekend? How was your day on Saturday. You had some time alone, what exactly did you get up to then?”

Staring down at the floor, you clear your throat and try to think of an excuse.

“Ah, well, I got a few assignments done and made dinner.”

His hand on your shoulder almost makes you jump.

“Sweetheart, look at me.”

You don’t want to.

You don’t want to look at him, you don’t want to see his anger or disappointment or whatever other negative emotion lays there at the moment.

But his grip tightens slightly on your shoulder, not enough to hurt, just enough to grab your attention. So you close your eyes and take a deep breath before looking up and meeting your father’s gaze.

He’s angry. Angry and disappointed and everything that you feared he would be. But most of all he looks concerned, worry pinching at the juncture between his eyebrows and at the corners of his mouth.

“What happened while I was out?”

You weren’t often emotional, and you definitely didn’t cry. Crying was pointless, it didn’t change anything.

But you had to bite your bottom lip and press your nails into your palms to stop yourself from bursting into tears in that moment.

It rarely happened that you kept anything from your father. You told him everything, no matter how big or small.

Truthfully, keeping a secret this big for as long as you had had been weighing you down. You felt guilty. Granted, you weren’t exactly lying to him, but it pained you to hide something like this from your father.

And so you cracked.

A few hot tears rolled down your cheeks as you sniffled, wiping at your nose with the sleeve of your jacket.

“Three of your students came to the apartment. They asked to see you but I said you were out.”

Aizawa’s grip on your shoulder had lessened, his arm wrapping around you, shifting you closer to him.

“Is that all?”

You debated lying to him, only for a moment. It technically wouldn’t be lying, you just wouldn’t be telling the whole truth.

The idea deflated quickly once his hand came up to brush away a few tears, his thumb gently rubbing at the soft skin under your eye.

“T-They just asked if I’m your daughter or not, they left after that.”

He hums again, staring at you for a few seconds longer. It feels as if he’s pining you in place, pressuring you into talking. Evidently, you have nothing else to say.

“Can you tell me what they looked like sweetie?”

****

You imagined that this is how criminals felt.

Under any other circumstances, it might have been funny.

Before you, lined up in somewhat of an identity parade, were a the three students from your father’s class, along with a few other guilty-looking students.

Three girls, five boys, all standing pin straight, facing forward. 

In the room next door stood the rest of the class, the remaining twelve students standing in silence.

Your father’s fury, evidently, had not been aimed at you. 

Well, not fully.

He was admittedly quite upset with you for not being truthful with him, but his anger was mainly aimed at his students for interfering with his personal life. With his family.

“Sweetheart, I’ve seen how high strung you’ve been over the past few days. I was concerned, but I didn’t want to overwhelm you so I gave you some space. But today one of my students let something slip and I put together the fact that they must have had something to do with the way you’ve been acting recently.”

You didn’t want to outwardly expose the three students who had come to see you that day, but your father had threatened to punish the entire class, so you’d caved and described them as best you could.

So here they stood, not once making eye contact with you.

"Go on," your father said, staring them down with a harsh glare, one like you'd never seen before. You knew your father could be strict with his students, but this was something else.

They all bowed forward at the hip, staring straight at the ground as they spoke in sync.

"We're sorry."

You stand in stunned silence for a few short moments, before shaking your head.

"Oh, um, it's fine. Thank you for the apology. And I'm sorry too."

The blond-haired student from before tries to raise his head, a wide smile on his face before your father's hand meets his neck, holding his head down.

"Did I say you could look up?"

"Sorry sensei."

Aizawa hums, glancing at you.

"Sweetheart, you can leave now. I'll see you later."

As much as you'd like to argue, you don't. Instead, you nod and bow to the eight students before you, bidding them goodbye before making for the door.

****

Aizawa couldn't find you.

He'd stayed behind to have a little chat with a few of his students, intent on returning home to you afterwards, but now, fifteen minutes later, you were gone.

You weren't in the 1A dorms and you weren't at home.

There was nowhere else that you could be, so where had you gone?

He begrudgingly made his way back to the dorms, resigning himself to spending his afternoon with the troublesome students of class 1A.

Only, he didn't have to go very far to find you.

Not with the small crowd of students trying, and failing to hide in the bushes next to the dorms.

He sighs heavily, walking up behind them silently.

Crouching down, he whispers, "What are you looking at?"

The yelps Denki and Sero let out are both panicked and silent, though they quickly scramble back to where they were, shushing Aizawa with flapping hands.

He quirks an eyebrow. Whatever they were spying on had to be interesting if they were brave enough to shush him.

Aizawa shrugs and cranes his neck to see what has them and their friends so intruiged, and-

Absolutely not.

There, sat on a bench in the hidden garden next to 1A's dorm room, was Bakugo Katsuki.

Accompanied by you, his daughter.

And unless his eyes deceived him - was he blushing?

Having seen enough, Aizawa stands and pushes between the students clustered behind the bushes.

He calls your name, and you look up with a start, eyes wide and dazed, your cheeks strangely flushed.

"Dad?"

You and Bakugo both jump up, and you head towards Aizawa while Bakugo slips away.

"What are you doing here? I thought you were going straight home? And why were you with Bakugo?"

You laugh awkwardly, deflecting his questions as you grab his arm and head towards your own apartment, away from the 1A dorms.

"Sorry dad, I got a bit caught up. Hey, how'd the interrogation go?"

You were trying to distract him. Aizawa knew that.

But your father was nothing if not willing, so he let you get away with it, making a mental note to look into what you were doing with Bakugo Katsuki of all people later.

****

Of all the students in your father's class, Bakugo was the one he thought would stay away from you. Far away.

Unfortunately, nothing seemed to be going his way lately, and Aizawa was infuriated to learn that Bakugo had taken a liking to you.

While he may have his own strong suits, he was definitely not the type of person your father would want you to end up with. Honestly, if he had it his way, you would remain happily single and by his side until both of you died.

But those plans were put on the back burner for now.

He learnt, from a collection of camera feeds and fearful student reports, that you had indeed been on your way back home after your father's intervention, but you'd gotten caught up exploring the grounds around the dorm area.

No one could fault you for that - it was Aizawa's fault really, he never let you out on your own, especially not to explore.

It was something he'd have to work on at a later date.

While on your little adventure, you'd run into a feisty blond.

Bakugo had been tasked with clearing away the autumn leaves around the 1A dorms, a minor punishment for some or other misdemeanour, and he'd caught your attention.

That wasn't unusual - you were curious when you wanted to be. It was a trait that your father both loved and loathed.

What was unusual was that Bakugo had played along.

Aizawa knew that Bakugo knew you were his daughter. That meant that he knew not to snap at you or treat you with his usual brutish attitude as he did with his classmates.

He knew that, but he couldn't understand why Bakugo had taken such a liking to you. Aizawa knew you were perfect, but he also knew that he was biased when it came to his opinion of you.

Well, he thought, I'll just have to ask him myself.

****

For the first time in all his years as a teacher, Shouta Aizawa was stunned to the point of silence.

He never imagined the conversation would take a turn like this.

"Sensei?"

He shakes his head, trying to rid himself of the heavy fog over his mind as he throws the quizzical blond a hard look.

"No."

"No?"

He'd never felt any genuine anger or violence towards any of his students, but this-

"Well sensei, we met a while ago. She- I knew she was your daughter, so I tried to keep my distance but, well..."

"I'm sure you understand what I mean."

"We've known each other for a while. "

"If you'll allow it-"

The conversation replayed in his head as a series of broken sentences and snapshots.

He felt off-kilter, unsure of himself in the worst way possible.

The only thing he knew was that, at this moment, someone was threatening to come between you and him - threatening to take you away from him, to steal you from him.

"No," he said sharply, "Stay away from my daughter."

It was Bakugo's turn to look shocked, though he was faster to calm himself than Aizawa was.

"Sensei, is this to keep her safe, or because you don't want to share her?"

It's a strangely phrased question, one that would puzzle anyone. Anyone but Aizawa.

He understood exactly what the hotheaded child in front of him meant by the word 'share'.

It spelt trouble in more ways than one.

"No. You asked and that's my answer. Now go back to your dorm," he says, waving him out without another word.

Bakugo nods and leaves without further argument, not once looking back.

Aizawa slumped back in his seat.

Bakugo knew what you meant to his teacher, beyond what most people thought they knew - he understood the lengths he'd go to to keep you safe and happy. The fact that he'd left without a fight proved as much.

More concerning than that though, had to be the fact that Bakugo was the same as him. He had the same unsettling urge to be with you, to be the only source of your attention.

Aizawa had seen it in his eyes, but heard it moreso in his words.

Share.

No, he wouldn't share you. Not with anyone.

[agirlandherquill]

the first "official" snippet

it has been a whirlwind for the last few days, so much has happened, so much needs to be done, and working on the next stage of Ruin's Reprisal is so nerve-racking and so, so exciting that i thought - why not share the very first ten pages, in what i am fairly certain is their final form?

at this stage i'm gradually doing a read through of my draft as an ePub on my kindle (it is insane to be reading this as though it's an actual book) and chapter by chapter, after reading it, i go back through and make any finer adjustments, such as grammatical changes etc - and since i've just done that for the prologue (almost 30 something pages, counting off the top of my head- whew!) i can share these first ten pages with you all!

so, without further ado, here they are!

At first, the world was ours.

Created by the truest being of all, the mother of everything sacred, Mutja-Har, my people were divine blessings upon the land, people bestowed with gifts unlike any other. But we grew idle - over time, we became greedy. Every story that I have read tells of a great voyage to a vast continent - I believe it was no voyage, but a retreat, after Mutja-Har’s scorn blighted the land and forced us out in shame for an act history has long since forgotten. But it turns out that this continent was not for the taking. The land was already inhabited by non-blessed folk, who have had many names over the years, but in my lifetime, they were Alirians.

And because of this strange newfound need to coexist, the Haelish had to learn to share. They had to change their ways, their language. They were forced to adapt, they were forced to change, almost completely.

The blessed became humble - well, humbler. They established themselves, due to their riches, as an aristocracy, founded themselves a Noble Court and claimed territory, even if the country was not their own. 

The Haelish were rulers once more. And so they remained, for many years. Preserving their ways, their lives, their bloodlines, everything was sacred. Everything was perfect.

Until one day, a day meant for the union of powerful families set to rule Aliria forevermore. But instead of unity, there was calamity. There was murder.

And for the first time in history, the Haelish found themselves bidding farewell to peace. In its place, they welcomed the title of Exilza.

Exile.

Me.

I believed I was the first. To break the rules. To go against tradition - Even if I was innocent of my crime - But it turns out that I was wrong. Instead of one, there were three.

But for now, for the start of this tale, let us focus on me.

The morning of my doom, and the eve of who I used to be. 

After all, who doesn’t enjoy a wedding?

~ ~ ~

How far would it take for me to fall to my death? To escape? All I want is for things to be different. For things to change.

Change. Now that is something I have never understood at all.

What does it take for a life to change? A moment? A day? A choice? Or perhaps, does it come down to having no choice at all?

This wedding was to usher in a new era for the country, for the people. Both Alirian and Haelish. But choice had never factored into it, not for her at least. She did not decide the path her life would take. She did not choose to wake up before the dawn. She had not chosen to be shuttered away in her room, biding her time. Her only saving grace was the window.

And she had it wide open.

Sunlight flickered through, bathing the room in warm light. Pale blue drapes floated in the wind, wrapping around her as she leaned against the window frame, deep in thought. In the light, visible specks of dust floated without a care, moving freely - they were free. 

Free, the word sounded like nothing more than a listless dream, it was a concept utterly unknown to her. Edeva stretched out her hand to touch a speck, driven by curiosity. Once it brushed past her fingers she grew bored, breathed out a tired sigh and returned her attention to the open window, a faint smile on her face. 

At least if this morning is my final one of normality, it’s a pretty one. 

The rising sun painted the Palace in a flattering light. The walls glistened, the perfectly carved stone reflected the sunlight whilst towering over the landscape. Down below, she could see the silhouettes of servants rushing to and from the courtyard, resembling very lost children. A sweet-smelling gust of wind drifted in through the window. Taking a delicate sniff, her body relaxed. Lavender. Its pleasantly distinct scent in the air comforted her. As the start of the day drew on, she found herself savouring every small comfort possible, even if it was something so simple as a scent. I have to enjoy what I can before I’m too busy to do otherwise. Life’ll be unbearable without my memories, as Mama always tells me. 

“Conteis Edeva?” A small voice echoed at the door, making her jump. Edeva decided to delay answering, wanting to savour her moment by the window once more. Her back was to the door, favouring the view of the window’s panorama to that of the furniture indoors, so she was unable to see the face of the speaker as they opened the door. “Conteis?” The voice spoke a second time, along with a few gentle knocks. Giving up protecting her peaceful daydream, Edeva tore herself from the window, tilting her body to the door. Is it time already? It feels too soon. Far, far too soon. She let out a slow exhale to steady her mind before answering. “Come in.” Do not. Stay away. Let me have these last few moments to myself. But it was too late. The words had been said.

Weddings. The word rotted in her mouth. Pompous events acknowledging what? A transaction? An exchange of words? They have nothing to do with love. Nothing to do with me. And here I am, the bride to be. She grimaced. High-Mother, Mutja-Har, give me strength. Praying in Alirian was not enough, she needed the High-Mother, the Haelish faithful touch, to give her the strength to get through the day.

The door opened further, granting the person access to the room. A petite maid entered, brandishing a joyful smile on her face - one Edeva wished to bottle up and express herself because she lacked the energy to form one of her own - she recognised the girl as one of her mother’s personal servants. Maidens, I believe she calls them. Though I fail to recall this one’s name, it’s a pity. She could not even bring herself to try to remember. No sense in making any friends that I’ll have to leave behind. 

The girl was soon followed by five others, of varying ages and appearances, each carrying an extravagant bundle or box of something she did not care to see. “It’s time my lady.” The first girl offered her a kind smile, holding out a hand as she gestured to the chair at the nearby vanity. With a slightly exaggerated sigh, Edeva took a seat. Time for what? The last moments of my freedom? Or to fulfil my duty? She struggled to find the courage to make polite conversation, settling on smiling occasionally as the women hurried around the room. Through the mirror’s reflection, she watched them curiously, taking in their excited smiles as they looked at her every so often. They’re far more excited about this than I will ever be. It’s a shame, really. 

She settled into the chair, deciding to let them get to work.

A short while later, she was covered in fine powder, the dust cloud made her cringe. Are they trying to offer me the small mercy of death by choking me beforehand? She laughed silently to herself. As a Maiden brushed her hair through, Edeva wondered over what the day would bring. She continued to wonder, squirming involuntarily as her locks were twisted and tugged into order, secured by a few glistening pins. 

She tilted her chin up, taking a second to examine their handiwork. She had expected more but the powder was all that sat on her face. The fine dusting had hidden the sickly pallor of her cheeks, but in her mind, it was nothing more than a clever trick to hide her unease and enhance the one thing people always adored the most: beauty. Not that the powder contained any magical properties as she had expected, no cheating ways to alter her appearance. It doesn’t matter, she thought dryly, What I think doesn’t mean a thing. She forced a smile onto her face, testing the legitimacy of its appearance in her reflection. She had to hide her horror at seeing the smile appear all too natural. Edeva glanced over her shoulder to the women who were occupied with smoothing out a dress on her bed. 

“May I have a moment to myself?”

The Maidens looked at her, flashing encouraging and knowing smiles before they scattered.

They think I’m nervous. That’s ridiculous, She sighed heavily at the thought, I’ve never been nervous a day in my life. I’m just exhausted with all of this, and the main part of the day hasn’t even begun. High-Mother give me strength, I need time to get my head together. 

She turned back to the vanity, raising a lazy hand to her temple as she studied herself in the mirror. If this is my last day as myself, I want to look my best. Besides, Mama wouldn’t reprimand me, she reminded herself, I do need to take some pride in my appearance, even today. She reached for an old friend, a case of brushes, paints, and powders set by purposefully on the side of the vanity. With careful concentration, she got to work.

Once she was done, she gave herself a final once-over in the mirror. The lids of her eyes were now slightly smudged in silver, a nod to her family’s colours. Her cheeks were slightly pinker, giving a more dramatic effect against her skin. She let her gaze abandon the blueness of her eyes, moving up to see the work her hair had undergone.

The stark, unmissable whiteness of her hair contrasted everything in the room, as it always did. Most of her hair had been braided into a bun, while other stray strands hung loosely by her face. It looks nice, she thought. She smiled again, though it failed to quite reach her eyes. Today has to happen. I have to go through with this, for everyone’s sake. The words felt like a lie even as she thought them. She slumped back in her chair with a sigh. If Mama walked in now… She pinched the bridge of her nose.

Why am I here? Really? Simply because I have no other choice? The thought pained her. She struggled to answer her own questions. Edeva stood, dragging herself to the bed where her outfit for the ceremony had been draped out. The Maidens would still be absent for a few more minutes, which relieved her, because she enjoyed changing in peace. She discarded her robe on the floor and slipped into the dress, not forgetting to slip her feet into the shoes waiting at the foot of the bed.

Without a second thought, she moved herself over to the full-length mirror that stood proudly beside the window. I might as well take a look at the monstrosity I’m being forced to wear as I seal my fate, she thought bitterly, taking in her outfit. The dress was made of white silk, the finest that money could buy, covered in blue ruffles, lace bows and long skirts, ones that weighed down her body in an uncomfortable manner. The accents of the dress bothered her. They’re blue, not silver. 

The dress honoured a family, but not hers. 

Blue was the Alirian Court’s signature colour - those of the royal family. 

The gown was a stranger, and certainly not the one she had dreamt of. It was not the one she had chosen. But then again, every choice she had made about the wedding so far had been ignored, why should her own attire be any different? She sighed at herself, the smile she wore matched the dress. Lies. Masks. All to please everyone but her.

She buried her hands in her skirts, lifting them enough to catch a glimpse of the shoes that threatened to cut off her circulation. She could not help but grimace. Her slippers were made of glass. If I’m lucky, they’ll shatter and stop me from walking.As much as she fancied the idea, something else broke instead. Her peaceful isolation. The Maidens returned. They strained to see over one another, hovering in the doorway. A chorus of “Oohs” and “Aahs” gave her a strong urge to rip out her hair. She did not feel like herself, but deep down she already knew she would never feel like that again. Not if she went through with the wedding.

The Maidens’ attention broke away from her, looking down the corridor as though they were being summoned, and Edeva did not doubt it. It’s a busy day for everyone. With a chorus of gasps, they rushed off, leaving the door to close on its own. 

She studied her face once more in the mirror. The blue of her eyes seemed different, she suspected that they were darker because of the clouded turmoil stirring in her veins with each passing moment. This day was not her dream, it was a nightmare.

Briefly, the turmoil was surpassed by relief. 

If the Maidens were rushing off, it meant she still had time. Time to see Mama, she will know what to do about all of this, about me. Edeva hesitated, glaring at her slippers. The moment that she returned, she planned to get rid of them, but for now, she had to go.

She hovered in front of the door, thinking of a plan.

Two guards would be stationed outside, as usual. She needed to get past them without a fuss. It was only a matter of how. Edeva opened the door, sticking her head out to smile at the two gentlemen assigned to her protection. They wore embroidered blue suits, a much more regal look than that of a typical Guardsman uniform. They’re going to be front and centre at the ceremony, it seems I’m not the only one who needs to look my best.

“Good day gentlemen, I’m just going to visit my mother,” She pressed a hand to her throat, laughing nervously, “It’s bridal nerves you see. I won’t be long.” She put on a girlish giggle as she stepped out of her room, even if doing so made her internally retch.

“My lady, you really should stay inside until it’s time.” The guard to her left sounded uncertain, looking at his counterpart with caution. The other guard remained silent, the only sign of his annoyance remained in the narrowing of his eyes as he looked her over, almost as if he was searching for an ulterior motive. Edeva held the sweet smile on her face, engaging in further conversation with the more social of the two. “I won’t leave the Palace, don’t worry. But I think I’d like to see my mother now, and as I said, I won’t be long.”

She moved past them, hitching up her dress to give herself further room to walk, whilst ensuring that she kept her strides quick and steady, hastening along the corridor. Behind her, the guards spluttered their objections, all of which she ignored. They can’t follow me. They’ve been ordered to remain right there. No-one else needs to know that I ever left my room. It seems getting past them wasn’t so difficult after all. She sighed in relief as she rounded the corner from her room’s more private corridor, moving into a longer one adjoining the rest of the Palace. Now, Mama ought to be in the West Wing, which isn’t far away, thank the High-Mother. Edeva set off, determined to have a talk with her before the time came for her life to change, and for her opinions to die alongside it.

* * * * *

The Palace staircases were as grand as they were tall. A chandelier watched over the stairs, coating each step with a slither of light that made the marble appear less straining on the eyes, and almost welcoming. The gentle feel very nearly tricked her body into thinking the Palace was just as warm, but the sharp pain in her feet made her know better. Each step sent minuscule daggers of pain tearing at her skin. The first chance I get, I am shattering these blasted things.She found a moment of respite on a landing. 

“Who in their right mind would create something like these?” Edeva spoke aloud, mumbling to herself. She had had enough. The slippers came off with ease, to her relief, as she freed her feet from the confines of the glass cage. The coldness of the floor numbed her soles, rendering them immune to further pain as she continued her trek to the upper floor of the Palace’s Western Wing.

The stairs seemed to melt into the carpeted floor, giving way to a familiar corridor. Edeva approached the first door on the right, letting herself in. 

Mama’s quarters feel larger than I remember. She noted, taking in the rooms. The parlour was a respectable size, furnished with the typical necessities - the only thing that stuck out to Edeva was the blue chaise that took up the centre of everything. And lounging upon it was the woman Edeva had come to see.

Mama. 

The smell of lavender greeted her. Aldora Vitaire held a powerful and yet gentle countenance about her, and it made Edeva wonder, How did a woman like her manage to ensnare the great Conteir Cordell, who lowers himself to no-one? He’s fearless. Except when he’s around her. You would think the titles were the other way around - she has none by birthright and he does. As do I. 

The thought of titles saddened her with the reminder of her ancestral home. I wish I was back there again, but I can’t be. I’m here, She cleared her head of nostalgic thoughts and returned her attention to her mother. She looked lost in a dream, gazing at the ceiling with a distant smile on her face. Edeva could see so much of herself in her, the eyes, the posture, many parts of her and her father made up who she was. Except for the hair. Neither her mother or father had hair quite like it. No-one had ever been able to explain it, but Edeva accepted her hair just as she did every other part of herself.

 Studying her mother’s dreamy gaze, sadness tugged at her heartstrings. The dreamily distant gaze had grown more visible with the passing weeks. As powerful as she is, it isn’t enough. Her mind’s slipping away, slowly. And lately, it’s been getting worse. None of the healers have been able to help.

“Mama?” Edeva spoke softly, kneeling down by the chaise. 

“Is it time already?” Aldora slowly turned her head, letting out a sigh. 

Edeva placed a hand on her mother’s arm, smiling. “Not quite yet, I just needed to see you.”

“Edeva, is that you?” Her blue eyes examined every inch of her face, gently questioning with a single look.

“Yes, it’s me, Mama.” She stared at her mother’s eyes patiently, watching recognition gradually lighten her irises. Her eyes crinkled at the edges as she smiled. “Edeva. My sweet, sweet girl.” Aldora reached for an item resting in her lap, a necklace, one Edeva recognised. White chain, silver jewels adorning a crystal pendant - this is her most treasured piece of jewellery. She glanced at her mother, brows furrowed in confusion. “Mama?”

“This will look lovely on you my dear.” Aldora patted her hand, sitting up on the chaise. Edeva held still as she clasped the necklace around her neck. She reached up to touch the pendant, clutching it gently. “Mama, I couldn’t, this is yours.”

Aldora tutted, giving her shoulder a fond pat. “And now it is yours. It suits you.” She could see the small twinkle in her mother’s blue eyes. She had inherited them from her, and the crystal pendant very nearly presented an identical colour when it caught the light just right, sitting at the base of her throat. She stared at the crystal, inhaling slowly to gather herself.

The time has come. I can’t put this off any longer. “I need to ask you something.”

Her mother’s gaze had changed, subtly, but Edeva knew enough by now to notice the difference. She’s gone again. 

“It’s not just a necklace, you know. Crystals know things.” Her words were so quiet that Edeva only just caught them.

“Not just a necklace?” She repeated carefully, lifting the necklace from her neck. She rubbed her thumb over the crystal. “It’s only a crystal Mama, nothing more, though it is lovely.” Aldora’s hand suddenly touched her cheek, cupping it with gentle fingers. “Edeva. Everything will be all right, this is for the best my dear. For you. For everyone.”

“But what if I don’t…” Her weak protest trailed off, her throat choking up. I never wanted this day. I’ve been putting it off for so long, praying against it, and it’s here. All too soon. Edeva cleared her throat. “What if I don’t want to marry him?”

Aldora gave her a knowing smile, tipping her chin up with her index finger. “You are a Vitaire. You will know what to do when the time is right. You can do whatever you set your mind to. Vitaires do not fall. We stand. And we stay standing. As will you.” Edeva threw her arms around her mother, swallowing a sob. The older woman patted her back affectionately.  “Thank you.” She took a shaking deep breath. “I know I should want this… But I don’t.” She pulled away from her mother’s warm embrace. “I-I can’t do this.”

Aldora took Edeva’s hand, putting it against the pendant, her fingers making her hold it.“In all the eighteen years of your life, I knew there would never again be someone as strong as you. You need to use that strength now my child. You can do this. Let the High-Mother guide you.” Edeva’s fingers tightened around the pendant with such force a part of her feared it would break.

“Come along Edeva, it’s time now.” Her mother offered her a gentle smile, though Edeva did not miss the way it failed to reach her eyes, as her own so often did.

Reluctantly, Edeva pulled on her slippers, once more the glass threatened to crush her feet. Fearful of her legs buckling beneath her, she found herself taking her mother’s arm.

It’s time then, time for the ceremony, time to say goodbye to myself, and to life as I know it.

~ ~ ~

now for the tag list!

(p.s if you'd like to be included/notified too, interact with this post :))

@humbly-a-doppelganger @imawholeassmood @frostedlemonwriter @yrndrgn @abditorywriting

@riveriafalll @lead-to-code @casualsuitturtle @floweryprosegarden @joeys-piano

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@drchenquill @leahnardo-da-veggie @tiredpapergirl @pastelpinkhobbies

[zdux]

Hi! I saw that your requests are open, and I, as expected, came to make a request! Your writings are beautiful 🍀

May I request some IdV HCs for Luchino with a Reader (Survivor, if possible) who uses jumping stilts? I just find it hilarious that a human can jump almost as high as him, hA-

Have a good day/evening/night/morning, and feel free to decline! Bye!

(sorry for my possible mistakes, english isn't my first language)

Sure!! Sorry for the late response, I'm horrible about writing things on time. But your english is great! I think at the time of writing my draft for this, which was quite a while ago, I had planned to write it as Hunter Luchino x Survivor!Reader, so that's what I've got going on here. I don't remember if his survivor form had been released at that time or not but just for clarification, this is Hunter Luchino ^^

Luchino x Survivor!Reader who uses Jumping Stilts

Luchino was used to all sorts of strange new survivors with strange new skills appearing at the manor, but he never expected this.

He had been in a match, hunting as usual, when he saw a rather tall survivor working on a cipher a ways away. He chuckled to himself, thinking about how height must be a disadvantage when trying to survive in a game like this. He launched himself over, just barely missing

You screamed, running off as quickly as you could, and he began to follow. After a while of running, kiting, and lucky misses from Luchino, he finally had you cornered. The only way for you to get out was up, onto a balcony, and to his surprise, up you went.

He had noticed the strange devices on your legs when he tried to hit you the first time, and realized that they were the cause behind your height. But he had assumed they were some kind of leg brace, not a device to help you jump. He was incredibly impressed you managed to get that high.

He quickly followed you, faster than you had anticipated, and grabbed you by the back of your shirt. Dangling you in the air before him, he looked you up and down, studying your stilts for a moment before speaking.

"Those allow you to jump like me?" He asked, though it was more of a statement than a question.

"Y-yes. They're jumping stilts." You nervously replied, heart beating out of your chest.

He made a noise that sounded like a grunt, before using his other hand to lift one of your legs closer to his face so that he could examine it.

"Can I make a deal with you?" He said after a moment. "I'll let you go, end the match, if you allow me to study these back at the manor. I've wasted enough time chasing you, and frankly I don't see why I should down you and risk breaking these contraptions."

You nodded yes, agreeing, and he put you back on the ground. He had you follow him around, asking you to try jumping onto different spots and see which ones you could and couldn't get to. By the time he had finished, your teammates had finished the ciphers and begun opening the doors. They pinged on their radios that you should leave, and that they could help you, but you pinged back to leave without you, so they did.

Luchino walked you to the gates, making small talk, asking more questions about the stilts, simply having a pleasant conversation until you made it to your location. He bid you farewell and sent you on your way, before walking away, presumably to whatever exit the hunters used.

Despite the fact that he was a hunter, tasked with eliminating you and your fellow survivors, you felt strangely comfortable around him. Maybe it was that he shared your inquisitive nature, maybe it was because he was such pleasant company, always offering you tea whenever you met with him to discuss the stilts, or maybe it was the fact that after enough meetings, the stilts were all but forgotten in conversation. What started out as a mutual interest became a regular meeting for the two of you, enjoying tea and one another's conversation.

Eventually, you noticed your own heart raced when around him, but not in the way it used to. You tried not to read into the little things, like how he started stuttering sometimes when you accidently touched his hand reaching for more tea, or how he would clear his throat after making eye contact with you for what felt like just a little too long. But you wanted to read into it, deep down, you wanted to be right.

And you were. He couldn't quite bring himself to say it, or to do anything about it, but you were so incredibly right. He too had started to have feelings for you, someone clever like him, someone who shared a bit of his strangeness, someone he was beginning to trust. It was hard not to fall for you, but here he was. He was hooked on every word you spoke. He wasn't ready to say it yet, but he was truly falling for you.

I hope you enjoyed!! Again, sorry it took so long, but I ended up rewriting everything I had done, and I'm glad I did because this is a much more detailed post than the original was.

[goldeneyedgirl]

TwiFicmas23 Day 3: Hybrid (The Party)

Good evening! I might have spent today reading a very old draft and realizing that as bad as the draft is, there is potential there. I'm pretty excited, and hoping I can salvage some of it for a future day.

But today I humbly offer a new scene from the OG Hybrid. This particular scene comes from earlier in the fic - after Jasper tried to feed on Alice and the Cullens begrudgingly welcome Alice to join their lunch table, but you wouldn't call them friends yet. Plus Alice is still set on being a normal high schooler with normal experiences.

Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy!

---

The party is exactly what I expected - eighty teenagers in a log house unsupervised. There’s a good mix of Res kids and town kids; and from the conversation that I overhear, it's not just Forks High students from town either - at least a few are from the hippie school which might explain the distinctive smell wafting from the den - and a few people who have definitely graduated. 

I feel awkward from the moment I arrive; after all, other than Angela and the Cullens, I don’t really hang out with many kids from school. I was so determined to have a normal experience and go to a high school party without vampires, I hadn’t really considered the reality of the situation. And the sheer amount of complete strangers here puts me on edge - it’s one thing to try and hang out like a normal teenager with my classmates and schoolmates. It’s an entirely different thing to be faced with a house full of random people when I don’t have anyone here to watch my back. The few parties I had attended in Chicago, I had gone to with one of my foster siblings, and no matter how much we disliked each other or what arguments we had, we always had each other’s back. 

And Cynthia was way too young to be dragged to a high school party - no matter how enthusiastically she would have attended this with me - so I was on my own. I could do this, I had been to parties before. Hell, I’d been a homeless middle schooler when I went to my first party, a rave in an abandoned warehouse. A house party was nothing to be nervous about. 

It’s easy enough to get a slice of pizza and a cup of what I know isn’t just a sugary sweet concoction of soda and juice. I smile and I talk - compliments for a girl in a bedazzled mini-dress, and another one with long pink and white hair; a couple of jokes for the guys manning the pizza boxes. I feel like I’m playing the part of a teenage girl at a party more than I feel like myself, but it’s something. I even manage to smile prettily and take a puff of a cigarette that I know isn’t tobacco and maybe have another drink and another until I’ve made party-friends with a group from Port Angeles who know a guy who knows a girl who got an invite or something. I feel a little more at ease with the alcohol in my system, and when the conversation turns to something I’m more familiar with.

In fact, I’m in the middle of explaining how we used to do our nails at my last foster home, when I’m rescued by a group of Forks High classmates; Mike Newtown is clearly their spokesperson as he unwelcomely grabs my arm. 

“Hey, we didn’t know you were here,” he says loudly; I can tell from the flush on his cheeks, he’s either helped himself to the beers piled into the bathtub down the hall or he’s been drinking the same punch as I have.

“I’ve been here a while,” I say, and decide that I’m not going to make a fuss that he’s glanced down at my chest right now. He can look twice, and then I start getting bitchy.

“We’re about… about to play a game. Connor’s setting up, come join us.”

There’s something about the way that Mike is pulling on my arm, and two of the girls he’s with are looking at me that makes me agree, quickly bidding the group I was talking to farewell. 

“You’re Alice, right?” One of the girls sidles up to me, sloshing her drink a little. “First party, huh? I’m Jennifer. A lot of these people crashed tonight. You gotta look out for each other.”

“Mrs Sawyer is gonna lose her shit when she sees this,” chortled the other girl, shoving a full cup at me. “Rob isn’t going to see the light of day until he’s like thirty after this.”

A boy I recognise from English - Austin - sidled up to us. “Rob’s in the den and he’s out. He’s not gonna have a clue what happened here. Told him to pace himself, but he never fuckin’ listens. Conner’s set up, let’s go.”

I take my seat at whatever dumb drinking game this is, and everyone seems eager to play. Jennifer and Samantha sit with me, but it doesn’t stop Mike Newton - who seems somewhat out of place here, without his usual group of friends - from clumsily flirting with me. I’ve had too much of the soda to appropriately call him out and make him stop, and my lukewarm disinterest seems to actually encourage him, though Jennifer swats at his hand when he attempts to casually touch my leg. 

It’s not the worst night or party I’ve been to. It’s hot and loud, but there aren’t any fights breaking out, and most of the illicit substances seem to be kept in the back rooms of the house. It’s amazing how time locked up in a mental hospital cured me of any interest in anything stronger than weed and whatever was in my drink; plus the last thing I wanted was to get that kind of reputation. 

But by midnight, I feel… sticky. I’m sweaty and my mouth tastes sour and sickly; my head is spinning and I’m too hot and I need to get out of this shitty house and away from these people who don’t even know who I am. Samatha and Jennifer have clearly decided to keep track of me, and there’s some obligation because I’m one of them, but they aren’t my friends and we probably won’t acknowledge this night ever again. Plus, a few of the hippie school guys have been watching me from the corner, and even through the haze of alcohol and weed, alarm bells are ringing - I can sense animosity from a mile away. 

I need to get out of here. 

It’s easy enough to excuse myself to the bathroom and then just leave through the laundry room door without anyone noticing. My head feels syrupy as I make it down the deck stairs and out into the night. 

It’s colder outside than I remember and the air is such a relief, I want to press my face to the ground. I wish I had some water, but I need to get home - I was supposed to get a ride from someone here, but I didn’t trust myself to ask the right person right now, and I don’t really want to wait around any longer.

Plus, it was only a ten minute drive from town to this house, I could easily walk it. I’d made Simon drop me off at the crossroad half a mile away, I knew the way home. 

Stumbling down the driveway, I let the noise and light of the party fade away behind me. The house was right up against the lake, and the drive wove through the forest from the main road - leaving me in the dark. But it was nice; a relief.  

It was a beautiful night, and I was enjoying the walk - it was even helping sober me up. 

At least, I was right up until about halfway, when I tripped over something and landed flat on my face in the gravel. That also indicated to me that I was… not quite as sobered up as I thought, because the pain felt very distant in that moment, like I was filing it away for later. 

I shouldn’t have had so much to drink when I knew it was spiked.  

Getting up was not a possibility. My ankle was sore, the world was spinning, my knees were burning, and the ground was nice and cool. The best I could manage was to half crawl to the side of the driveway and collapse in the long grass to wait for it to pass. I wasn’t sure if that was the night, my drunken state, or my inability to stand up, but I figured I could wait it out. I was comfy. 

It was a pretty night, with the clouds drifting across the sky. It’s pleasant enough that I just lie there, staring up at the moon and the stars, with my head swimming. It’s not as bad as the feeling I used to get in the hospital when they’d give us the drugs to make us sleep. That made me feel like I didn’t have control over my arms and legs, like I was stuck and trapped and at the whim of someone else. This is warmer, and I’m still in control; kind of like I’m dreaming but awake. It was nicer. I kind of understood why some kids had preferred alcohol to meds now. 

It’s just so peaceful, even if the damp is seeping through my top, that I lose track of the time. Dad had been worried letting me go, and made me swear I’d be home by one but I was nearly certain that I was going to miss that deadline. It was weird having a curfew - unless I was homeless, curfews at the hospital and in my foster homes had been more of the ‘in bed by nine, don’t even consider an alternative’ flavour. 

At a certain point, though, reality began to break through the peaceful little haze I had going on, and I remembered my phone in the little sling bag that had gallantly survived the entire night without getting lost. 

There were no cabs in Forks to my knowledge - and from what I had seen at school, there was a fifty-fifty chance they’d refuse to pick me up for one of three reasons: I was the daughter of the gay guys, I was the mysterious newcomer, or that I had been drinking at a high school party. After a few weeks in Forks, I’d found that the small-town judgment and prejudice were quieter than expected but it ran deep. 

Cynthia had programmed a bunch of useful numbers into my phone for me, so maybe that included a solution to the fact I was lying in the mud next to the driveway of a classmate’s house.  

Scrolling through my phone contacts, I wondered if I should just bite the bullet and call Dad or Simon, and own the fact that I was still a little bit high and still a little… okay, a lot drunk. I wouldn’t be the first ex-foster kid to come home drunk, and I wouldn’t be the last. But I also dreaded the look on my Dad’s face; that tired and disappointed one that looked like he had failed me and not the other way around. I wanted so much to be able to say that yeah, the party was fine, and have that been the end of it. I didn’t want the lecture, I didn’t want the embarrassment and I didn’t want…

I froze as I looked at my list of contacts. Five new numbers that I had certainly not programmed into my phone, and Cynthia certainly hadn’t added because if she knew and had these numbers, I was nearly positive that she would have sold them off to the highest bidder in the middle school cafeteria. 

How the fuck had the Cullens’ collective numbers ended up in my phone? Had I done it at one of our awkward lunches? That seemed unlikely, but my brain couldn’t completely rule that out as a possibility, especially when I was sleep-deprived or bogged down with homework. And why would Dr Cullen’s number be included if we’d exchanged numbers during lunch? As shitty as their high school act was, they at least knew that offering me Dr Cullen’s number would be fucking weird. 

Scowling, I selected the one member of the Cullens I would actually willingly talk to - well, the one member of the Cullens that I was quasi-certain wouldn’t immediately pass the phone off to any of the three members of the family I refused to speak to on principle. 

Emmett seemed cool, but I sensed weakness in him when it came to the will of Rosalie and tonight was not the night to test that theory out. 

If I hadn’t had so much punch, this would seem like a terrible idea. But if I hadn’t had so much punch, I’d be cheerfully walking myself home. Well, not cheerfully. But I’d be home in bed already, willing tonight to just go down in my personal history as mediocre and not worth repeating. 

“Hello?” The sound of Jasper’s voice sent a shiver down my spine and a spike of … reassurance? Like everything was okay or would be okay because he was so good at putting things… putting me… back together. 

Or he would be, in the future. I had seen it. 

“Why is your number in my phone?” In my head, it sounded indignant but even I could hear my words run together. Fuck. “I didn’t put it there.”

“…Alice?” The way he said my name… I thought I’d known what it would sound like after years of visions. But it was different in real life, better. He sounded confused and slightly startled, which was new. Normally when he said my name it was a polite greeting. In my visions, it was warmer and more intimate. 

“Yes, it’s Alice - do you and your family regularly inflict your phone numbers on unsus… unsusp… teenage girls that don’t know you stole their phones? You’re getting us all confused?”

“Alice are you… intoxicated?” He sounds incredulous. 

“Why does that matter?” I demanded. Jasper might be the love of my life, but he had not yet earned the privilege of commenting on my chosen activities, let alone get to police me. “For your information, there was a party at Rob Sawyer’s tonight and all the real teenagers went. You and your family need to be more convincing.”

“I can attest that not everyone went, because Bella is downstairs with Edward,” Jasper replied. 

“Well, her high school priorities are clearly different to mine,” I retorted; I was irritated that he was so calm and I couldn’t work out why. “I prefer to enjoy my youth. It’s fleeting, you know. One day she’ll look back and wonder why she spent so… so much time listening to her old man boyfriend play the piano when she could have been doing something fun… like going to a rave.” What was I saying? I hated raves. I liked getting dressed for them, because it was fun, but I hated how sweaty and crowded and smothering they were.

“Where are you, Alice?” Jasper sounds far too amused for my liking, and if he were here, I’d have smacked him. 

“I’m fine.” My back was actively wet now, and I was certain I was covered in mud. 

“Uh huh. Are you alone?”

“Yes.” There was a nearby frog I could hear, but nothing else. I was surprised - no one had left yet. Was it normal for Forks High parties to go on this long or did people stay over or what?

“You should call your parents, Alice. Get them to pick you up. Or Carlisle can if you’re worried,” Jasper says so kindly that all my indignation deflates like a balloon, and a ball of panic wells up in my chest. 

“No. You cannot tell my father about this,” I said. “You have to swear.”

“Alice, I think your parents would prefer you were home safe rather than alone and intoxicated,” Jasper said soothingly. 

“No. I don’t… they aren’t allowed to see this. I’m already too much trouble and messed up their lives, and I don’t want to disappoint them again,” I said, and felt tears well up in my eyes. “I must be costing them so much and they have to take me a bunch of places and watch me and every time I mess up or say something wrong, they get this look on their faces like they screwed up. It’s not. They didn’t have to take me into their home, not really, and I… I want to make it worth it for them.” I sniffled. 

There was silence on the other end of the phone. 

“Tell me where you are, Alice. I’ll drive you home.”

“Rob Sawyer’s house party. It’s on a dirt road.”

“That’s not… Don’t hang up, okay? I’m going to track your phone.”

“That sounds illegal, Jasper,” I said, wriggling around on the grass to get more comfortable. “How do you even do that?”

“It’s a long story. And yes, it is. But desperate times call for desperate measures.”

“I’m fine.” Kind of cold and muddy, and my knees and ankle were hurting in kind of a distant way, but the sweaty nausea had passed. I could easily fall asleep here. It wouldn’t even make the top ten worst places I’d slept in my life. 

“We’ll agree to disagree, Alice.” I could listen to Jasper say my name forever. “But I do have a question for you while we wait.”

“Okay?” 

“Why did you call me? I put all the numbers in your phone. Why me?”

I froze. He didn’t sound like he resented that I had chosen him; there was a note of something in his voice, something raw and real and even a little bit… not eager. But something. Maybe curiosity?

“Who else would I call? I hate doctors. Rosalie hates me. Edward doesn’t trust me and he reads minds. Emmett was a possibility, but he looks easily broken,” I said. 

“And Esme?” Jasper sounded disappointed. 

“I have a lot of mommy issues, let’s not unpack that box. I didn’t see her number there anyway.” I propped myself up on one arm. “You weren’t the last resort, Jasper. You were my first and only choice.”

“…Why?” Now I could hear the self-loathing in the boy’s voice. 

“Because I trust you,” I replied. “You’re the person I trust the most in the world. Or you will be one day.”

Silence again. “I don’t understand.”

“I’ve known about you for a long time,” I said, watching the clouds move across the sky. “You’re a protector, a planner. You love to read and learn but you loathe high school. You have a wicked sense of humour, and you just… fix everything. There’s nothing too terrible or silly or chaotic that you don’t make better. Just by being there, you’re making things perfect…” He was. I had years of dreams of laughing and talking together, of the way he would stroke my hair and wrap his arms around me. The way we’d lie together, him reading and me drawing or messing around on my phone. We were meant to be so happy. 

And it had to be said that he was… goddamn magnificent in bed. And like, I wasn’t entirely sure when he had died, but it was definitely in a ‘lie back and think of England’ era for women, so I felt like I should send a fruit basket or something to whichever ex-girlfriend had intervened because he was… outstanding. I’d only seen stuff like that over the last few years and it had been very enlightening on multiple levels. It had also been comforting that after every single thing that I’d lived through, I’d still be able to have that kind of intimacy with another person without all that fear and grief looming over me, and even enjoy it. 

If he gave me one single chance to be something, whatever he wanted, I’d be his ride-or-die forever. I knew how fiercely and completely we’d love each other, and I wanted that so badly. He’d been my best friend long before either of us had set foot in Forks, and I just needed him to take that leap of faith and trust me, the weird girl who knew too much, to capture that future that we both desperately wanted and needed. 

And I had no idea how I would convince Jasper of that. That I wouldn’t ask for this if it wasn’t something that I was so very certain we both wanted… 

The phone had gone quiet. 

“…What was I saying?” I yawned. 

“I hope I can live up to your expectations.” Jasper’s voice was softer now. “I’ve got your location, Alice, I’ll be there soon.”

“I’ll be waiting,” I said, as the phone line went dead. Awkwardly jamming my phone back into my sling bag, I closed my eyes for just a moment. Jasper was coming to get me and I’d go home, and everything would be okay.

[yandere-daze]

Horrortober Day 21

Okay so in no way at all is it still october and I´m not really planning on doing the other days for this challenge as it´s way past that by now but I had this sitting in my drafts half-finished for almost a year now and it´s been staring back at me every time I worked on a different post.

Today, I decided to finally finish this piece because I thought what I had so far was enjoyable! Also yes, the fact that this piece was about Kohaku and that he´s one of my favorite enstars characters definitely played a part in this.

I feel like this might be more brutal than what I usually write for my yandere posts but I felt it fit well with the prompt and as a contrast.

Hope you enjoy! ^^

Link to my Horrortober masterlist here!

gn reader

Day 21: Favor --> “I did you a favor by getting rid of this pest.”

tw yandere, tw possessiveness, jealousy, murder, blood

It was supposed to be just a normal meet-up with the four members of Crazy: B, no one could have foreseen what would happen on that day.

You were their producer and had proposed this meeting yourself to discuss plans for the upcoming live event but here you were, sitting around a large table in Café Cinnamon and talking about anything but work. You sighed defeatedly as you stared at the cup of coffee you were holding in your hands but then shook your head. Well, it was nothing to get too worked up over you supposed, it wasn´t like this was the first time it had happened.

Kohaku and HiMERU were usually more than willing to be productive and you could even get Niki to concentrate if there was enough food in his stomach. Yes, in truth, the real issue laid with Rinne alone. The older Amagi was loud and chaotic, always doing whatever he wanted and generally not listening to what other people told him. Sadly, that included you. It had gotten harder and harder to get anything done with Crazy: B when everything was just a gamble to Rinne. There have been many sleepless nights where you had laid in bed and stared at the ceiling while pondering on what you could possibly do to get through to him.

You didn´t believe he actually had any malicious intentions with what he did but you just wished he would take things more seriously. Surely, he did care about his idol work at least to some extent so why did he feel the need to give you such a hard time? You had complained about it to the more cooperative half of Crazy: B on occasion and they too agreed with you.

“Ahaha producer-chan, how about we play some poker? Stuffy meetings are so boring so let´s spice it up a bit! While we´re at it why don´t we use some real cash for it? Makes it way more exciting! What do you think?”

Of course, it was Rinne that made that suggestion and you had to hold yourself back from groaning out loud as he leaned over the table to look at you expectantly.

“HiMERU believes you are a menace to society, Amagi”, HiMERU said in a flat tone as he regarded the presumably older male with a disgusted look. “HiMERU is going to leave now if there is no more business to talk about.”

You only nodded weakly in agreement as he got up from his seat with a frown and bid you and Kohaku farewell as he steadily walked towards the door.

“Aww come on Merumeru don´t be such a spoilsport! Scared you´re gonna lose?”, Rinne yelled after him, still with a wide grin on his face as he laughed to himself.

HiMERU only turned his head to look back one more time before heading out the door with his last parting words: “HiMERU wishes you would drop dead”. Then the door closed behind him.

You couldn´t hold back your laugh at his blunt words, you could definitely understand the sentiment.

Rinne instead leaned back in his chair and focused his attention on Niki who was sitting next to him and still filling his stomach with the food he had brought to the table earlier. The redhead decided that this was the perfect opportunity to start pulling at the poor guy´s ponytail and pulled him back while the other protested in alarm.

“Ow ow ow! Rinne-kun please let go you´re hurting meee!”

“Aww, I thought you liked it when I did this, huh Niki? That damn Merumeru just left us all coldy like that, can you believe it?”

As if to emphasize his point he pulled on Niki´s ponytail one more time for good measure while the other struggled.

“I´m not too surprised he left if I´m being honest, we haven´t gotten any work done at all recently thanks to your efforts to distract everyone..”, you sighed tiredly as you rested your chin on the back of your hand.

Kohaku regarded you with a careful glance at your obvious frustration before looking back at Rinne with a frown on his face.

“Y/n-han and HiMERU-han are right, you know? Crazy: B has gotten zero jobs as of late and now that the producer has given us this opportunity we are wasting time that we could have used to plan ahead. You´re just giving Y/n-han more trouble than they already have.”

Kohaku had spoken up against Rinne just like HiMERU had but even though his words were not as blatantly rude as his, for some reason the tone of his voice was still harsher.

Rinne stopped what he was doing and let go of Niki for a moment, which allowed the gray-haired man to escape with a hasty “I should probably get back to the kitchen now to clean up!” as he retreated back to safety, away from the argument that was bound to unfold now.

“Aww Kohaku-chan you really wound me, you know? I´m just trying to have a little fun with the producer, what´s wrong with that? We still have a lot of time until the actual live show, you know?”

You gulped uncomfortably when you turned your head to look at Kohaku´s face only to see that he looked even more annoyed than he did before. His facial expression was dark and you could see how tightly his hands were clenched around the edge of the table. Something about what Rinne just said must have really set him off but you couldn´t quite guess what that might have been.

“I think Y/n-han would appreciate it way more if you actually did your work, Rinne-han. There is no need to try and annoy the producer every second of the day, ya know?”

For some reason a shit-eating grin suddenly appeared on Rinne´s face, he looked excited somehow even though Kohaku obviously wasn´t happy with him. You weren´t either if you had to be perfectly honest.

“Aww, Kohaku-chan could it be? Are you jealous of the time I spent with the producer because I´m Crazy:b´s leader?”

He had the audacity to playfully wiggle his eyebrows at that.

You did a bit of a spit-take at that, definitely not having expected it. Kohaku next to you was also fuming if the red on his cheeks was any indication.

“That- no obviously not! Don´t say such stupid things Rinne-han! I´m only mad because you´re wasting everyone´s time because you don´t take anything seriously!”

You gaped like a fish when Kohaku said aloud what you had secretly been thinking but Rinne didn´t look impressed. In fact, he looked even more excited for some reason.

“Is that true? Well then you won´t have any issues if I get a little closer to the producer, right?”, he drawled with a teasing smirk as he got up and walked around the table to instead sit down on the empty chair to your right that HiMERU had stood up from before.

Then before you could protest in any way, Rinne wrapped an arm around your shoulder and pulled you closer so your head was resting against his chest. You felt your cheeks heat up at the close proximity to the man as you felt his chest rumble beneath you as he laughed loudly like a hyena.

“Nyahaha, well what do you think Kohaku-cha- “

Rinne´s voice broke off when he suddenly fell off his chair and crashed onto the ground with a loud thud. Kohaku had apparently harshly kicked the chair he was sitting on, causing it to tumble. You too would have fallen had he not quickly grabbed your arm and pulled you back to him instead. You were glad there weren´t any other customers around otherwise the loud noise would have gotten quite a bit of attention. Niki also must have left by now or he would have immediately stormed out of the kitchen to check up on what had happened.

Rinne rubbed his head as he was sitting on the floor of the restaurant, groaning all the while, obviously in pain from the sudden and harsh fall.

“Aw heck, what was all that about, Kohaku-chan? Hit a nerve or something?”

Kohaku merely tightened the grip he had on your hand from preventing your fall, the same dark look still on his face as he watched Rinne in what could only be described as hatred and disgust.

“How dare you”, is what he replies through clenched teeth, his voice shaking with an unbridled amount of rage.

“You know, I should be the one saying that? You got up on the wrong foot today or something?”

Then, despite his obvious pain, a mischievous smirk crossed Rinne´s face as he regarded the way Kohaku had protectively pulled you against his chest and how he was holding onto you as if his life depended on it.

“Or did my little teasing hit a nerve or something? Aww, Kohaku-chan really does have an adorable little crush on our dearly beloved produ- “

He wasn´t able to even finish his sentence, it had all happened too fast. In what seemed like a mere second, Kohaku had let go of your hand, much to your confusion, only to pull something from his jacket pocket. It looked metallic and shined in the dimmed lights of the café.

Only when the floor turned red from Rinne´s spilled blood did you realize that the mysterious object was a knife, one of the ones that were given to customers when they ordered food here.

Even when you heard Rinne scream in pain, your brain couldn´t process what had just happened. There was red. Everywhere.

Rinne´s hair. Rinne´s clothes.

The floor. The knife.

Kohaku´s face. Kohaku´s clothes.

It was all seeped in a dark crimson color.

You felt your vision blur as your knees gave up under you, causing you to tumble to the ground. Your whole body was shaking in fear, it caught up to the situation way quicker than your mind did. You could only rely on instincts, it was all too much to bear right now.

You were sure this scene would haunt you for the rest of your life. The shocked and pained expression on Rinne´s face, the lifeless look in Kohaku´s eyes.

As you watched Kohaku stab the knife into Rinne´s chest a second time, as if to make sure that he was really dead, you finally got a hold of yourself and started slowly backing away from the person that you had once thought of as someone you could trust. How wrong you were.

But you couldn´t dwell on that for too long, you had to worry about your own safety now. Your friend had turned into a violent murderer in the blink of an eye and you had to get away as quickly as possible. You could properly mourn Rinne later, for now, you had to make sure that you wouldn´t be joining him.

But as luck would have it, as soon as you tried to make your way to the exit, Kohaku turned around to face you. You felt rooted to the spot with the way he gazed at you. There was still a burning rage inside his violet eyes but the storm broiling inside of him seemed to calm as you two made eye contact. His expression softened and there was what could only be described as a sick smile on his face, considering he had just killed someone.

But that fact didn´t seem to bother Kohaku the tiniest bit. It´s as if this wasn´t the first time he had done something as terrible as this, he paid no attention to the blood that soaked his shirt or the smell of death that lingered in the air.

No, instead he was solely focused on you. It sent shivers down your spine that he could act so calmly in a situation such as this. You honestly would have preferred it if he was screaming, crying, anything at all that would show that this had an impact on him!

But no, instead he only smiled.

He smiled and walked toward you.  

You screamed, you turned around and ran, but it seemed the past would repeat itself, for he once again grabbed your wrist and pulled you towards his chest, as he wrapped his other arm around you, dropping the knife in the process.

But compared to earlier, you didn´t feel relieved that he had grabbed you. No longer was his presence a comforting one to you, instead all you could feel was horror as you heard the way his heart sped up when you were pressed against him so closely.

You shivered and cried, scared and afraid and uncertain about what would happen to you now.

“Shh, it´s all okay now, y/n-han. I did what needed to be done. He was always bothering ya, making more work for ya and such. There´s no reason to cry over someone like him. I did you a favor by getting rid of this pest. I did us a favor.”

Kohaku gently whispered the last part, only serving to frighten you further. You didn´t understand. Did he kill Rinne because of you? But why? Even with his explanation, you couldn´t understand. Couldn´t understand why he had thought extreme measures like this were necessary.

But you were exhausted. You didn´t want to think about this entire disaster for another second. Just for a moment, you wanted to forget. Forget this ever happened.

But you couldn´t when you felt Kohaku tighten his hold on you as if he was afraid that you might try to escape again. He didn´t want to let you go, he wouldn´t let you.

“I love ya, y/n-han. No one is going to bother ya anymore so long as I´m with ya. I won´t let anything happen to you.”

There was a brief pause there that made your breath hitch as you anxiously waited for Kohaku to continue.

“I´ll remove anyone that comes between us from now on. I won´t allow it any longer. I promise.”

[jenotapes]

the coincidence | lee jeno

from the moment their eyes met as they departed, his woe heart immediately finds you in front of his eyes.

pairing | lee jeno x fem!reader genre | high school!au, angst, fate!au

warnings | profanity, a cliffhanger LOL, mentions of vomit cs people cant handle alcohol

word count | 1.8k

notes | happy birthday to lee jeno <3 enjoy this really old draft from last year (sorry if my writing is a little ass here LMFAO) that i fixed a little, i was also too lazy to make a banner LMFAO

From the moment his hands fell from your touch, he looked at you with remorse. “I’m sorry it had to be this way Y/N.” his beautiful, bleary eyes caught your ambivalent state, and he couldn’t bear to look at you after. “It’s fine.” Your words seemed lilted, it had never felt so awkward between the two of you. Both their fiddled hands unable to find a comfortable position, his weary eyes looking everywhere but at the girl standing in front of him. 

“I guess this is goodbye then.” A smile had never seemed so painful to look at. Jeno maybe expected a small hug to bid farewell, but you walked away the moment he finally looked back at you.

He wanted to reach for your hand but decided not to. He wanted to seem like the bigger one in this situation, ‘I’m better without you’ he felt. Although he regretted it the moment his hands fell, and your figure was already lost from his sight. He wasn’t ready to let you go.

-

Jeno leaned his back against the metal lockers, resting his hands deep in his pockets. “What do you say?” Minji probed, clasping her hands together as she waited for his response, giddying around with the obvious intention of asking the boy out. “I’m not interested, sorry.” He runs his hand through his hair, declining her offer, because simply— he just isn’t interested. “I could always just-!” 

“Enough’s enough.” Jaemin calls from behind, hanging an arm around Jeno’s shoulder. “But-” before she could finish the two were already gone from her sight, walking away before she could start her endless blabbering on how she’s such a potential girlfriend(and that he should totally go out to her party). “She’s so clingy, doesn't she understand personal space? She keeps pestering you to go out to the party.” Jaemin sighs, rubbing his neck. “I won’t go anyway.” “Is this because of Y/N?” “What?” “I mean totally speaking, even if I wasn’t here to say no— you wouldn’t go anyways. She dislikes parties, doesn’t she? So you’ve gotten used to never going anymore.” He cocks a brow as to why. Jeno Lee: the partygoer jock who was now, a party phobe. Jeno scoffs in response, “She hates parties.”

“Right.” Jeno’s gaze lowered in memory of you. He recalled the one time before he finally stopped being a reveler; how you would pester him not to bring you along, but you’d end up going for the sake of him; driving him home while he’s dead drunk, and assisting him nearby albeit how much you hated the awful reek of sweat and alcohol, unnecessary yelling and the moshed pit of people partying as if their life depended on it. Not to mention the teetotallers who love to vomit. Those were the times, it’s been two years now.

“Not over her?” Jaemin assumes, the boy’s eyes widening in response. He wasn’t over you at all in fact, the day he implied you were no longer of any importance to him, his heart pierced deeper than it should have. He wasn’t always good with his words, and his body language never seemed so strong either. Seeing you walk away so easily with a pained smile left him confused. Then he never saw you again.

He had been staring blankly for a while, Jaemin getting him out of his trance with the snap of a finger. “Yeah, you definitely aren’t.” He chuckles, Jeno shaking his head as this rather stoic expression painted his face. The school bell starts tolling throughout the school, and Jaemin is about to bid him an early goodbye with the slight fear of not having his homework done. “I got psychics, see you after.” He smiles, the two doing a little handshake before they parted ways. 

As faint chatters of students slowly faded, and the many crowds slowly went into their respective classes, Jeno realized he was alone.

Deadly silent, it was as if the time had stopped and he wasn’t able to hear a thing. He slowly closes the door of his locker, his ears picking up the sound of small footsteps coming nearby. 

The minute he shut it, his eyes couldn’t help but focus on a figure; the back of the person that struck such awful deja vu. It was all too familiar for him to forget, and for some reason, he felt the feeling of pure agony from the moment you appeared. Not even one feature is seen yet chills are running down his spine like the speed of light. Quiet breaths left his lips, staring as you started picking up your books from the somewhat cold ground. He knows who you are, but it's just that he wouldn't want to know at first glance.

No one wasn’t able to give him that odd pour of regret as much as you did.

“Y/N..?”

Jeno blinks, a little anxious. Maybe he shouldn’t have called your name-- gulping in fear that you would never look back, again. 

Miracles always tend to happen in moments like these. The time did stop as the two had met ways yet again, It was as if it was only the two in their red world. With the final put, they had looked back.

Jeno’s eyes locked with yours. He didn’t dare look away, nor did he want to care about classes or whatnot. You yourself wanted to do the same, reject the idea of looking away and savor the moment, but you couldn’t help it. What was he doing here? As a matter of fact, what were the two of you doing there? You gulp, instants between the both of you falling in like a waterfall, unable to process who you just saw. Taking all of your books, you stood up-- ready to run away. Just as you always did.

The latter’s eyes widened to your sudden reaction, instinctively running to grab your hand as he ran before you could leave. He couldn’t bear to let you go once again.

“Wait.” He abruptly says, hands gripped tight to your wrists. “Please don’t leave just yet.” He breathed, certain he had just seen the love of his life again. After two years, in fact, it felt too surreal for him, all the months he’d been longing to see you again.

He realizes the other side of the building seemed fairly different from his, walls bright white with blue lockers. That cream plank flooring, they were from somewhere different. He was sure of it, he wasn’t blind. It was clear. Fate brought them back together, didn’t it?

You take a deep breath, slowly looking back to meet his doe eyes once again.

Your eyes immediately teared up. 

“Jeno..?” With eyebrows raised, they fell into each other’s touch once again. After two years of longing, they were finally able to see each other face to face. Jeno seemed ecstatic, his name-- coming out of your mouth. Your sweet, gentle tone he loved so much with his entire heart. His expression curved, nodding his head in excitement with a smile so wholehearted. “Yes, yes-! That’s me, that’s ..me.” His voice seemed to croak, both in happy tears and disbelief. You couldn’t help but smile at his response with a soft chuckle. “We meet again?” You chirped, acting as if you hadn’t just disappeared from each other’s sight two years ago. 

The boy nods again, unable to put out a proper response. His eyes glisten as he bites the bottom of his lip, hissing at the slight pain of his rough action. “I really wanna kiss you right now. Is..is that weird I..” Samoyed boy rambled as if it was his first time ever dating his whole life. “After you told me off? No thanks..” You scoffed, the latter’s expression glowering at your response. You look down the same way his head lowered, gently bringing both of your hands to cup his cold cheeks.

“I’m just kidding, silly,” You chuckled, both your thumbs slightly brushing his fringe as he melted into your touch, resting his cheeks ever so comfortably. His eyes looked up to yours once again. Whenever both of your eyes met, they’d felt as if they had fallen in love at first glance. Time finally stopped for the two, following the small silence came to a kiss.

Jeno’s lips leaned in with yours, a magical touch he hadn’t felt in forever. Two years seemed like demise, and the both of you leaned into each other’s touch during this short moment. It was everything the two  could gather, to just see each other one last time. The movement of his lips softened, Jeno’s hands stroking the gentle strands of your hair. Visions blurred and lips stuck together like a magnet and in a slight moment, they finally parted their lips. What felt like forever was what they needed to lean into each other. It was all the time they needed.

“I missed you, and your lips.” He chuckles, gently caressing their cheek as he looks at you with hearty eyes. “I miss every part of you.” You smile, wrapping their arms around his bare neck. The two of you shared laughter, Jeno nuzzling his nose on the crook of your neck. “Fuck, I missed you so bad.” He chokes up, tears forming in his eyes from having been able to see his lifeline again.

“It’s as if everything bad we’ve been through was forgotten right?” 

Your gentle tone. God how much he loved every inch of you. The girl who smells like lavender and loves the winter season albeit never even having experienced it much. Jeno nods, lowering his hands to their waist to hold. “It’s crazy. You don’t know how much you complete me.”

“From the way your eyes glisten, your scent to your vanilla lips, your gentle tone, your loving personality. I miss you, I just..” He slowly closed his eyes.

“I never meant to say you were never important to me, I was just in a tough situation, and I.. I wasn’t able to properly tell you what I wanted to say. I never expected you to walk away like that, as if you were ..expecting it? Did I ever treat you wrong? I’m sorry if I have baby, I just.. wanted to get everything over with and engulf you in my arms, straight away. I just..” His eyes are shut, his touch felt like feathers.

“My mom wanted me to cut contact with you.” He breathes out, his hands trembling. “I didn’t want to. I felt so angry I just let it all out that Friday..” “From the looks of it, it seemed you knew, didn’t you? I’m sure you did.” He chuckles, smiling.

“From the bottom of my heart, I love you with every inch of my being. I never meant for it to happen, I was selfish to let you go just like that. You mean so much to me.. D-don’t you know?” His voice seemed hoarse, bits of tears falling down his cheeks. 

It was silent.

“Y/N..?”

As a matter of fact, the moment Jeno opened his eyes-- you were no longer in sight. A small white feather slowly falling to the ground as his eyes widened. 

And so, the bell rang.

do not translate or copy © jenotapes 2022.

[reidgraygubler]

Spoonful of Sugar (spencer reid/reader)

Title: spoonful of sugar

Request: yes! (a super fluffy spence x reader one shot in which she's sick with the flu, a high fever or something similiar, so he has to take care of her. Usually i'm not that super whiny and wouldn't request things like that buuut i'm in a desperate need for spence to take care of me while i'm ill and home alone.)

Couple: Spencer Reid/gen-neutral!reader

Category: fluff

Content Warning: spencer’s pov, anxiety about an ill partner, none that I can think of. If something does need to be tagged, please message me

Word Count: 1,638

Summary: Spencer stays home from work to take care of his partner, who’s sick with the flu

A/N: sorry this took so long to get posted. i forgot I had it written and it was just sitting in my drafts. it is a little on the shorter side... thank you all so much for the support! i really do appreciate it. check out my masterlist!

{***}{***}{***}

The person who usually slept beside me did not sleep last night. I only know that because whenever they tossed and turned, it’d wake me up. But also, they kept stealing all the blankets from me. Whenever I tried to take them back, they’d wake up and steal them again. Or they’d be suddenly up in a coughing fit. And then, they finally fell asleep around the time I had to get out of bed for work. Leaving me with another restless night of sleep. I was used to it at this point, but not because of them.

When I left the bedroom, I made sure to be as quiet as possible. I didn’t want to be the reason why they woke up for the day. Clearly something was on their mind and keeping them up. I also made sure they had all of the blankets on their body. While I did that, I sneakily rested my hand on their forehead, and the back of their neck, just to check their temperature.

They were on fire. I’d never felt someone as hot as that in a very long time. It would explain why they got no sleep and kept waking up, and stealing the blankets. They’d need to get medicine and fluids in them, and quickly. But I’ll do that when I’m finished getting ready. They just fell asleep and I’d rather them sleep off their fever.

So that’s what I did. I quickly got ready for work, doing all the necessary things I had to do. I wanted to make sure my person had everything they needed before I left for work.

Which meant a quick stop at the market down the street. The market had their favorite soup, juice, and snacks. If I was going to go into work today, I needed to make sure they had everything they needed before I left for the day. And if they wanted me to stay, I’d do that for them.

“Hey Emily, I’m going to be late to the office today,” I said into my phone as I grabbed a basket. The store had several people, just enough for me to be cautious of where I was going. And it pressured me to be even quicker inside.

“Oh! Of course! Is everything okay?” Emily asked, the concern in her tone sounding genuine. I sighed before nodding.

“Yeah, just... Just need to take care of someone who’s sick,” I explained as I grabbed a bottle of orange juice.

“Take all the time you need! We got everything covered here.”

“Thank you so much.”

“Of course, call me if you need anything!” She proclaimed before bidding farewell. I sighed deeply before pocketing my phone and headed towards the deli to get some soup. They always gave me chicken noodle, with the good thick egg noodles. Since they also enjoyed White Chicken Chill, I got that for them, too. Anything to make them feel better sooner.

Once I got both soups, enough juice for a small household, and plenty of healthy snacks, I made the trek back home. Whether they enjoyed the things I got them or not, I knew they’d enjoy the thought. Because that’s all that matters, right? The thought?

When I got home, I prepared the chicken noodle in a bowl, and grabbed a bottle of juice with electrolytes, and brought it to the bedroom. They were still asleep, however slightly stirring. Instead of just leaving right away, I waited a moment for them to wake up.

“My head is pounding,” they groaned as they brought a hand to rest on their forehead. “Like I drank a fifth of whiskey,” they added. I held back my chuckle and sat on the edge of the bed.

“You’re hot.”

“Thanks so are you,” they blew me a kiss. I rolled my eyes before shaking my head.

“You have a fever, Dear,” I corrected as I handed them the bottle of juice. “I got you soup, juice, and healthy snacks.”

“You’re too kind, Spencer,” they hummed as they struggled to open the bottle. I watched as they sighed and handed the bottle over to me. I smiled as I cracked the bottle open.

“I have to go in, but if you want me to stay I can.” I handed the bottle back to them. They smiled brightly before taking a big sip of the juice.

“No, no, you’re the breadmaker here. You’d be no use to me here.”

“I can help you,” I breathed out a laugh. They lazily smiled before shrugging. “I’m gonna get you medicine.”

“If you don’t come back with Day and Nyquil, don’t come back at all,” they teased. I laughed as I looked back at them.

���Eat your soup, I’m getting you medicine,” I repeated as I pointed at the bowl of chicken noodle on the nightstand. They glared at me before picking up the bowl. I was quick, grabbing the medicine they asked for and a bottle of Aleve.

“Do you need anything else?” I looked down at them as I placed the bottles on the nightstand. They shook their head as they looked back at me, watching as I sat back down beside them.

“I’m all good here.”

“I can stay if you need me to,” I whispered as I looked over at them. They looked away from the bowl of soup with wide eyes. “Surely Emily won’t care. Family first.”

“As much as I’d love for you to stay, Spence, they need you just as badly there,” my person slurred their words. I could only imagine just how congested their sinuses and how blocked their nasal passages were. Which would only cause a migraine. “Besides, I don’t want to get you sick. You’re a baby when you’re sick.” They smirked at me.

“Am not!” I exclaimed as I looked at them. They shrugged before rubbing the underside of their nose. Should have grabbed them tissues while I was at the store. “Seriously, I’ll stay.”

“Seriously, go to work.”

“If I didn’t know any better it sounds to me like you’re trying to get rid of me.”

“I am,” they mumbled as they blew softly onto their spoonful of soup. I rolled my eyes before standing up off the bed.

“Okay, okay, I’ll go.” I lifted my hands as a sign of surrender. They looked up at me with a soft smile. “Good to know you can get rid of me so easily.”

“I’ll call you if I need anything.” They placed the soup back on the nightstand before shifting down the bed.

“And I’ll let Emily know I’ll be on desk duty.”

“Spencer,” they warned.

“I’m going! I’m going! Gone! See! Gone!”

“Love you!”

“Love you, too!”

I should have stayed home.

{***}{***}{***}

Okay, maybe Spencer should have stayed home because… I really miss him. I thought I’d be fine if he went in, and I’d get by… But I really want him. God I’m never whiny and asking for things, and the only thing I want… I sent it away.

I could call him… He’d drop everything and come right over. But… He should work. There is a reason why I sent him to work. That was where he was most needed. What if I was wrong though? What if he was most needed here, with me? No, no he’s the brain of the BAU.

But it’d be really nice if he stayed home with me.

Yeah, I made a mistake sending him to work. I’ve never felt so clingy in my entire life. Damn my stupid clinginess.

Did he know I was thinking about him? I must’ve, because he was calling me. Probably just checking in on me. I could ask him to come home. Unless he’s in the middle of helping a case and can’t come home.

“How are you feeling?” Yep, just calling to see how I was doing. It was probably a good thing that he was calling me. He probably just knew I wasn’t feeling any better.

“Could be better,” I paused as I looked over at his side of the bed. It was made but a little tousled around because of my sleeping. “Kinda wish you stayed here,” I whispered, mostly to myself.

“Already on the way home,” he stated like it was no big deal.

“Really?” I asked, feeling a little bit of excitement in my tone. Surely it just sounded like I was stuffy to Spencer. He laughed.

“Finished early. And… Emily noticed I was too distracted thinking about you. I’m about halfway there, do you need anything?”

“You… To get here quickly and give me all the cuddles in the world,” I dramatically sighed as I curled in on my side. “But… Safely!” I quickly added.

“I will be there soon, Dear,” Spencer mused before chuckling lightly. “Do you need anything?”

“No, I should be okay.”

“I’ll be home soon."

“Okay, bye,” I whispered before hanging up. I tossed my phone into the empty space beside me before curling back onto my side. Now that I knew Spencer would be home any minute, maybe I could sleep. Or maybe I should stay awake and wait for him.

Whatever, it didn’t matter. I must have fallen asleep, because the next thing I knew, Spencer was crawling into bed beside me and I was slowly waking up.

“Shh, go back to sleep,” he whispered as he pulled the blanket back over me. Although it felt like I was on fire, the blanket felt safe over me. Or maybe that was Spencer’s arms wrapped around me that made me feel safe.

“No, no,” I mumbled as I moved as close as possible to him. Spencer laughed lightly before pressing his lips to my forehead. “Don’t leave me again,” I whispered into his chest.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

{***}{***}{***}

if you have any comments/questions about this part, let me know here! please consider reblogging or leaving a comment if you’re a part of the taglist. it’s so much work tagging everyone.

not able to tag: @isabellasimps

@thebluetint @mggsprettygirl @muffin-cup @misshale21 @spenciegoob @reidspoet @ash19871962 @babebenhardy @flipperpenguins @kuolonsyoja

@broken-stardust @beepbooptoop @ray-lia

[junghelioseok]

covenant.

↳ your best friend’s engagement forces you to reevaluate your own feelings.

◇ hoseok x reader ◇ smut | angst | werewolf!au | f2l!au ◇ 16.4k [1/1]

⇢ arguably also an arranged marriage!au, ft. kinda sorta dumbasses to lovers? a very, very late bday fic for the most beautiful man in the universe and my favorite funky lil dancer. ♡

notes: i started this in my drafts well over three months ago and all it said was “this ain’t gonna be on time for hobi’s bday i can feel it” and damn if past!me wasn’t right on the money!!! this has undergone three edits, going from 14.6k to 16.4k somehow, and i am going to lose my whole damn mind if i don’t just post it so here it is! hope you enjoy!

warnings: dom!hobi, alpha!hobi, bit of dirty talk, oral (f receiving), some grinding against hobi’s thigh, knotting, hobi’s got a big dick idk, also he’s in heat!!! but things eventually get really soft bc i love him and am a Soft Bitch™ 🤷🏻‍♀️

It’s going to rain.

You can smell it in the air and feel the damp chill against your skin, permeating through every layer of your clothing. The surrounding forest and all its occupants seem to be collectively holding their breath, waiting for the first drops to come. Even your footsteps, soft as they are against the loamy earth, sound much too loud in the hush that’s fallen. Dark clouds gather overhead, looming like an omen, and you silently reach into your purse to check that the umbrella you’d stowed this morning is still there. Vaguely, you wonder if it’s big enough for two.

Around you, the trees slowly begin to dwindle, until there’s only open sky above your head and a wide grassy expanse beneath your feet. A certain heaviness lingers in the air here—a low thrum of energy, born from the ancient magic that sleeps in the gnarled roots of the tree that sits in the center of the clearing. You can feel it prickling along your skin, raising gooseflesh and igniting your veins, and the closer you get, the stronger the feeling becomes.

At the far end of the clearing, you spot a small crowd of people, all clad in black. Your best friend—and your entire reason for venturing out today—stands amongst them in a tailored suit, his black tie snug at his throat and laid atop a charcoal gray shirt. He’s chatting with his father and a few other family members, seemingly calm and collected, but you can tell from the sloppy knot of his tie and the way he fidgets with the hem of his jacket that he is anything but. After all your years of friendship, you can read Jung Hoseok like a book. His auburn hair is disheveled as if he’s been incessantly raking his fingers through it, and even at a distance, you can sense the turmoil in his aura, haloing him like the stormy clouds overhead.

Sensing your approach, Hoseok’s gaze flickers up to meet yours. He raises a hand in greeting and bids farewell to the people he’d been chatting with, picking his way over to you with a wan smile.

“Hey. You made it.”

“I wouldn’t miss this,” you reply, reaching out to take his hand. It’s warm and strong as always, but you don’t miss the slight tremor in his grip. “How are you holding up?”

He shrugs half-heartedly, a sigh escaping his lips and dissipating into mist in the wintry air. “As well as can be expected, I guess. It just… it all happened so fast.”

“I know,” you murmur, twining your fingers together in quiet reassurance. “I’m so sorry, Hobi.”

“Thanks.”

Slowly, his gaze flits to the center of the clearing where the ancient tree sits, traversing from the leafy canopy all the way down to where the gnarled roots disappear into the dirt. In its shadow sits a polished wooden casket, and you squeeze Hoseok’s hand gently as he walks closer, his eyes beginning to glisten.

“I still can’t believe he’s gone, you know,” he mumbles. “All these years of war, of negotiations and peace talks, finally seeing the Accords pass and the company flourish… and now he’s gone. Cancer. Just like that.”

His voice cracks on the last sentence, and you clasp his hand a little tighter. You know as well as he does that a healthy werewolf can live for well over a century, if not for the human genetics that remain susceptible to human weaknesses and disease. True immortality afflicts only the faeries and the vampires of your world—and even then, there are still ways that those folk can die.

“He lived a long life,” you say after a moment’s hesitation, grasping onto any semblance of comfort you can offer. Together, you and Hoseok come to a stop in the shadow of the tree, peering at the closed casket where his grandfather lays. “And it was a good, just life. Not all of us can say that.”

A lone, wet droplet falls onto the polished mahogany, and Hoseok hastily wipes his eyes, tilting his head skyward. “Not long enough,” he whispers. “He still had so much to do. I… I still have so much I wanted to do—to say. And now I’ll never be able to.”

You caress a thumb across his knuckles, the motion soft and tender. “I know. And I’m sorry. I wish there was something I could do.”

Hoseok glances down at that, a glimmer of something manic and desperate swimming in his amber-flecked irises. “You could,” he says, grabbing both your hands and clutching them to his chest like a lifeline. “You could bring him back. You know how, don’t you?”

You shake your head sadly, hating the way his frown deepens as you free yourself from his grasp. “That’s forbidden magic, Hobi. That’s necromancy. You know I can’t do that.”

Hoseok’s entire body sags, his shoulders slumping as he lets out a heavy sigh. Instinctively, you step forward to wrap him in a hug, and he loops his arms around your waist automatically, pulling you flush against him. “I know,” he mumbles into your hair. Then he huffs out a dry chuckle, humorless and deprecating. “Fuck. I’m a mess, huh?”

You don’t answer. You don’t need to. Instead, you hold him a little tighter, rubbing his back soothingly in long, slow motions—the same way his mother used to do during bedtime. His heart thuds erratically in his chest, fast and frenzied like a caged bird, but lulls as you continue your ministrations, settling into an even rhythm once more.

“Thank you,” he murmurs after a few moments, his warm breath caressing your cheek. “For coming today. I couldn’t have done this without you.”

“You can do anything, Hobi,” you reassure, running a thumb along the sharp line of his jaw when he raises his head to look at you. “With or without me. But… you’re welcome, all the same.”

Your presence at this funeral is unusual, and both you and Hoseok know it. Werewolf packs tend to keep their rites and ceremonies private, and the Gwangju pack is no different. Led by Hoseok’s father, and his late grandfather before him, the werewolves of the city have rapidly risen to prominence and power, aided in large part by the founding of JungTech. The company, started by Hoseok’s grandfather, began as a small operation in a battered old warehouse, but quickly grew to become one of Gwangju’s biggest corporations after the signing of the Accords twenty years ago. The peace treaty marked the start of a tenuous coexistence between humankind and Shadowfolk, and, together with your fellow witches—along with the werewolves, vampires, and the few fair folk who decided to leave their homes deep in the forests—you migrated into cities all over the country to forge new lives.

It’s proven easier for some. While the wolves of the city have found tolerance—acceptance, even—you have not fared quite as well. Humans, you have found, tend to fear the ancient magic that runs through your veins. Though nothing you’ve faced comes remotely close to what your ancestors faced in centuries past, you remain wary of those who take a little too much interest in your abilities.

You’re a bit paranoid, your familiar, Bast, has remarked on more than one occasion. But it’s justified, so I suppose it’s all right.

As if sensing that your thoughts have turned to him, Bast stirs in the back of your mind. You feel him yawn and stretch lazily before there’s a tug on the soles of your feet, as if the force of gravity has suddenly, inexplicably doubled. Then he’s materializing—morphing out of the spot where your shadow would be if the sun were shining, taking the form of an inky black cat with sharp, golden eyes. Hoseok perks up when Bast loops between his ankles, and immediately squats down to scratch behind his ears, a small smile settling across his face as a low, content purr rumbles up from beneath his fingertips. From elsewhere in the clearing, a single howl rises up into the air, forlorn and wavering.

It’s starting, Bast says in your head. At the same time, Hoseok straightens to his full height, fiddling with the hem of his black jacket and looking over at you tentatively.

“Sounds like they’re getting started,” he says.

You nod. “I should go.”

Hoseok opens his mouth as if to protest—as if to say no, stay—but you know better and cut him off with a single raised finger.

“I’ll go,” you murmur. “This is a private rite, and I don’t want to break centuries of tradition by overstaying my welcome. Go join your pack, Hobi.”

“Will I see you later?”

“Without a doubt.”

Your parting gesture is to reach out and grab his hand, tucking a little drawstring bag into his palm and closing his fingers over it. “Valerian root and chamomile,” you tell him gently, taking in his rumpled collar and the dark bags beneath his eyes. “Make some tea tonight. It’ll help.”

Hoseok swallows and nods, his features softening as he gazes down at his hand cupped in your smaller ones. He looks like he wants to say something, but another howl interrupts, disrupting whatever thoughts he may have had. Instead, he nods again, murmuring a soft goodbye before turning on his heel to join the rest of the pack gathering around the raised casket. You turn as well, leaving behind the ancient clearing with Bast trotting by your side.

Up above, the heavens finally open, drenching the dirt path beneath your feet with rain. And behind you, the single howl is joined by dozens more, echoing mournfully up into the weeping sky.

///

You’re in the middle of straightening out a display of dittany when the kettle begins to boil, emitting three short, shrill whistles accompanied by a long stream of whirling steam. When silence falls over the shop once more, you wander over to where the kettle sits—atop a small wooden end table next to an old wardrobe. It’s an old relic that’s been passed down through generations of witches in your family, wrought out of silvery metal and suspended in an iron frame above a single lit candle. The flame is glowing pink, flickering in a nonexistent gust of wind, and you smile. Quietly, you grab two teacups from a nearby shelf.

Not two seconds later, the door of the old wardrobe creaks open, revealing the familiar face of Kim Seokjin behind it. A fellow witch and a good friend of yours, Jin has made a name for himself as a baker, running a café in Seoul that offers all sorts of confections—both with magical properties and without. His hair is dyed a muted dusty rose—a stark contrast to the casual black hoodie and jeans he’s wearing—and you reach out to push a stray lock back from his forehead in lieu of a greeting.

“Your hair’s pink again,” you remark. “I like it.”

Jin grins, his plush lips pulling back to reveal perfect teeth. “Thanks.” Carefully, he steps out of the wardrobe and shuts the door behind him. A beat of silence passes, and you take the opportunity to select a canister of tea leaves. You don’t miss the flicker of solemnity that settles into Jin’s features, though, listening as he clears his throat before voicing the question that is undoubtedly the reason behind his unexpected visit.

“So. How’s Hoseok holding up?”

Jin has never been one to mince his words. You suppose you appreciate that about him.

Quietly, you lift the kettle out of its stand and beckon for him to join you at the little wooden table at the front of your shop. It’s tucked neatly into the nook carved out by one of the two bay windows on either side of the front door, flanked by two well-worn, mismatched chairs. Atop it sits a pile of books—everything from ancient remedies to common household spells.

One book in particular always sits open—a detailed list of all the herbs and plants you carry in your shop, along with the various concoctions you’ve created with them. Hellebore, the spine of the book reads, and it’s the same word that graces your storefront in flowing, golden text. An apothecary of sorts, you spend your days dealing out potions and remedies to those in need, both human and Shadowfolk. You do your best to help, for all the times modern medicine has come up short and left someone wanting.

“Honestly? I don’t think he’s been sleeping.” You set the teacups down onto the table and fill them both before handing one over to Jin. “I saw him this morning, at the funeral. He looked exhausted.”

Jin’s brows disappear behind his pink hair. “You went to the funeral?”

“I didn’t stay,” you clarify, taking a sip of your tea. “Just wanted to drop by, say hello, and pay my respects.”

“Werewolves are a private bunch,” Jin remarks. “I’m surprised.”

You shrug. “Hoseok wanted me to be there. So I went.”

“I see.” He doesn’t say anything further, and neither do you, lapsing instead into a comfortable silence that’s broken only by the occasional sip of tea and the clinking of china. Your gaze wanders, drifting over to the front door of your shop, painted a cheerful green and set with a flowery stained glass window that throws kaleidoscopic rainbows across the cream walls and dark wooden floor. Sunlight streams through the wide bay windows, illuminating the interior in warm, hazy gold. On the other side of the room, Bast is curled up, fast asleep on his favorite plush bench beside the glass door that leads to the greenhouse, perfectly haloed by the sun.

“Must be nice being able to fall asleep anywhere,” you mutter, almost to yourself.

Jin hears you anyway, a chuckle escaping his lips. “You sound jealous.”

“Maybe I am,” you reply, laughing with him. “Speaking of which, where’s Adam? Did he stay home?”

Jin nods, jabbing his thumb in the direction of the wardrobe. “Yeah, he’s keeping an eye on the café. Told me to say hi to you for him, though.”

You giggle at the thought of Jin’s familiar, a long-haired sheepdog with a stubborn streak the size of the Nile and blatant disdain for following orders—especially those that come from Jin himself. “Keeping watch, or trashing the place?” you tease.

“With my luck, probably both,” Jin admits with a sigh. “I should probably get back there soon. He ate all the egg tarts last time.”

“Bring him with you next time,” you advise. “Bast will keep him entertained.”

He grins. “I don’t doubt it.”

Finishing off the last of his tea, he stands up and taps the rim of his cup, murmuring a soft cleaning spell under his breath. You smile gratefully as he replaces it back onto the shelf with the others, and stand to walk him back over to the wardrobe. Opening up the creaky door, you watch him clamber inside, standing amongst the hanging coats and the single pair of shoes on the bottom shelf.

“See you later,” you murmur. “Give Adam my best.”

Jin nods. “See you.”

He shuts the door, and you watch the flame of the candle once again turn a soft, roseate pink. It flickers briefly, dancing in an invisible breeze, before reverting back to the color of regular fire, signaling Jin’s departure. Quietly, you clean your own teacup and return it to the shelf.

The remainder of the afternoon passes with few customers, so you opt to close down early and head to your apartment, located up a short flight of stairs on the second floor of the shop. You’re rifling through the refrigerator for dinner ingredients and humming softly under your breath when your phone suddenly rings, Hoseok’s name lighting up the screen in bright white text. “Hey, Hobi,” you say, swiping across the glass to answer. “What’s up?”

On the other end of the line, Hoseok exhales shakily. “Can you come over?”

You blink, glancing at the darkening sky outside. “Now?”

“Yeah. Fuck, sorry. I know it’s late, but I really… I really need to talk to someone. I—” His voice cracks, and your heart sinks. “I need you.”

“Say no more.” Straightening up, you shut the refrigerator door and tug off your apron. “I’ll be there in half an hour. Have you eaten yet?”

Hoseok sighs. “No.”

“I’ll bring takeout,” you decide, already glancing around for your purse. “See you soon, okay?”

Bidding him farewell, you don your coat and head out the door, locking up behind you. Hoseok lives downtown in a sleek, modern penthouse that’s normally a twenty-minute walk away from Hellebore, but after stopping by the restaurant on the corner for food, you opt to catch the bus instead. Fifteen minutes after you hang up the phone, you are rapping the bronze knocker on Hoseok’s front door, a paper bag and a bottle of wine in hand.

Almost instantly, the door is flung open. Hoseok stands in the threshold as if he’s been waiting there, his auburn hair wild and his eyes even wilder. His aura is turbulent, and when he speaks, his voice is hoarse. “Hey.”

“Hey.” You raise the bag. “I brought dinner.”

“You’re the best,” he sighs, stepping aside to let you in.

Hoseok’s apartment toes the line between modern and cozy in a way that only Hoseok’s apartment could—with lush green plants and plushy, earth-toned furniture to offset the cold impersonality of the floor-to-ceiling windows and the stainless steel kitchen. Flicking on the kitchen light, you set the food down on the granite countertop and grab two wine glasses out of the cabinet. Hoseok sidles over as you pour a generous helping into each glass, rifling through the silverware drawer for utensils.

“Smells good,” he murmurs, popping a box open. “I’m starving. Thanks for bringing dinner.”

You brush off his gratitude and hand him a glass, raising yours so you can clink it gently against his. Quietly, the two of you fall into a comfortable routine, with Hoseok grabbing the food and you grabbing the bottle of wine to bring into the living room. You help him clear off the coffee table and arrange the food, then settle onto the couch beside him, sipping your drink in silence and patiently waiting for him to gather his thoughts. Years of friendship have taught you that he’ll talk when he’s ready, and you’re content to wait as long as he needs.

Sighing, Hoseok tips the rest of his wine back into his mouth before setting the empty glass down with a soft plink. “So,” he begins, not quite looking you in the eye. “My dad and I had lunch today.”

You stay quiet, waiting for him to continue. He takes several more seconds to muster up the words, and when he finally finds them, they’re exhaled in a tumbling rush. “He told me that he’s pleased with how I’m running JungTech. It’s been over a year, and things are going well… so he wants to expedite my takeover of the pack. In two months, he wants me to take over as the alpha. And…” He swallows. “He wants me to settle down.”

Perturbed, you blink. “What?”

Hoseok finally looks at you, his expression frighteningly devoid of emotion. “He wants me to get married, {Name}.”

Comprehension doesn’t settle in right away. But when it does, your jaw drops to the floor, landing somewhere alongside the ornamental persian carpet and a stray sock that has no doubt jumped ship from Hoseok’s laundry.

“W-what?” you manage after a few long seconds of gaping at him. “Why? Why now? That’s so… that’s completely out of the blue.”

Hoseok shakes his head, a few shaggy strands of auburn hair falling across his forehead and into his eyes. “It’s not, actually. He’s been talking about it for a long time—trying to arrange something with one of the other pack families. It’s tradition, you know? Mating within the pack, keeping the bloodlines pure through marriage. The difference is that Pops always talked him out of it. Always said I was too young, that there was no rush, that I should wait for someone I love, my true mate...” He sighs, heavily. “But he’s gone now. And Dad’s decided that he’s done waiting.”

You shouldn’t ask. You shouldn’t, because you know it’ll hurt, but the question comes regardless—leaving your lips in a near whisper. “Who?”

Hoseok takes a deep breath, his shoulders slumping as he exhales. “Do you remember Im Nayeon?”

You do. You’ve known Nayeon almost as long as you’ve known Hoseok—the three of you having attended the same schools starting from elementary all the way up until Hoseok left to attend university in Seoul. Admittedly, you were never close—and if you were completely honest, you always found her to be a bit disingenuous for your tastes. Nevertheless, you often found yourself at the same events—parties and gatherings you attended at Hoseok’s request, and that she was privy to due to her family’s high-ranking status within the Gwangju pack.

“I remember,” you tell him, your bottom lip finding its way between your teeth. “Does… does she know yet? Have you met up with her?”

Hoseok nods. “She was there this morning, at the funeral. We talked a little bit and got coffee after, but… this is all happening so fast.” Slowly, he tilts his head back to stare at the ceiling, a sigh escaping his parted lips. “But there’s nothing I can do, right? It’s enough that Dad’s somehow talked Mom into the whole thing, but now he’s gotten the Council on board too. Did you know that Nayeon has an uncle on the Council? It’s insane, right?”

“Insane,” you agree in a whisper, doing your best to ignore the way your heart is splintering at the edges.

“You know, I always thought my Dad pressuring me was bad.” Hoseok buries his face in his hands, peering at you from between his splayed fingers when you hum in acknowledgment. “But this? The entire Council on my back? This is way worse.”

“I’m sorry.” You don’t know what else there is to say. Your ribcage feels like it’s been split open and filled with burning coals, weighing hot and heavy on your insides.

Hoseok has dated in the past, of course. You both have—chasing that elusive, fluttery feeling called love and never quite being able to catch it and hold on. Hoseok’s last relationship fizzled long before he graduated from university, having lasted only about six months. You distinctly remember meeting the girl during one of your frequent visits to Seoul, at a small party hosted by Hoseok and his friends. By your next visit, however, things had already ended. He never really told you why the breakup occurred either—only that the relationship never would have lasted in the long run.

Perhaps foolishly, you chose not to pry.

“Is there anything I can do?” you ask softly. Reaching out, you take ahold of his hand and tug it into your lap, threading your fingers into the gaps between his. The gesture is familiar and comforting, like cocoa in front of a lit fireplace, and you can’t even begin to fathom the idea of another person sitting here and holding his hand in your stead.

“Just talk to me,” Hoseok entreaties, squeezing your fingers. “Distract me. What’s going on with you?”

You hum, swallowing down the lump in your throat and letting your head fall onto his shoulder as you pick through the events of the past week for the most interesting tidbits. “Bast has been bringing me dead rats lately,” you finally say, nose scrunching at the memory. “You should see the size of them—they’re almost bigger than he is. And they smell like the sewers, because I’m ninety-nine percent sure that’s where he’s getting them from. It’s horrid.”

Hoseok huffs out a stilted laugh. “Sewer rats? Gross.”

“It’s not all bad, to be honest,” you tell him, nestling a little closer to the warmth of his body. Hoseok keeps his apartment chillier than you’re accustomed to, and you’re beyond grateful for the furnace-like heat he gives off naturally. “The bones are pretty useful. The tails too, provided you don’t tell people what they actually are.”

His laugh is much more genuine this time. “Tricky little minx,” he says, amusement lacing his tone. “I’ve always liked that about you.”

You ignore the uptick in your heart rate at his approval, grateful that he can’t see your face as a pulse of heat flushes your cheeks. Instead, you burrow into the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent. Hoseok smells like the forest—fresh and woodsy, with a slight floral undercurrent from his fabric softener. It smells like home, and you smile when his arm comes up to wrap around your shoulders.

“Jin came by today,” you murmur.

“Yeah?” The monosyllabic response rumbles through his chest.

“Yeah. He asked about you, too. You should probably text him later.”

Hoseok hums a confirmation, and, satisfied, you cuddle a little closer to him. You pull at the afghan he keeps laid over the back of the couch, laying it comfortably over your lap as he rests his head gently atop yours, his ear pressed to your crown. Your eyes fall shut as you listen to the rhythmic thud of his pulse—solid and steady, backed by the soft hum of the refrigerator and distant traffic on the street far below.

It’s comfortable, sitting with him like this. Comfortable, stroking his arm with your fingertips, in time with the drumbeat of his heart. Ever so gradually, Hoseok’s breathing evens out, and you briefly think that you could stay like this—encapsulated in this delicate, iridescent bubble of contentment—for the rest of your life.

You know the thing about bubbles, though? Bast remarks dryly in your head. They burst.

I know, you sigh.

I know.

///

There’s something soothing about taking inventory—something calming in the repetition of walking down the aisles of Hellebore and restocking the shelves one by one. You’d woken this morning to an apologetic Hoseok making pancakes in the kitchen, his residual heat and woodsy scent lingering on the blanket tucked around your body. After a harried breakfast and a promise to text you later, Hoseok rushed off to the office.

You, in turn, returned to your shop, where you grabbed every ounce of cleaning supplies you possess and scrubbed the place from top to bottom, foregoing all of your usual dishwashing charms and dust-clearing jinxes. The physical labor is a welcome distraction from the events and revelations of last night, and you’ve thrown yourself wholeheartedly into all the chores you need to complete.

“Almost out of rosehip oil,” you mutter, eyeing the half-empty vial and making a note to extract more from one of several plants in your greenhouse. “Low on valerian too, hmm…”

The bell over the front door jingles merrily, diverting your attention away from your task. “{Name}?” a voice calls softly. A moment later, a familiar head of coppery red hair pops around the edge of the shelves, choppy bangs framing a soft, warm face. “Hey, there you are. You busy?”

You shake your head and shut your inventory book, setting it down on the nearest shelf. “Not terribly, no. What brings you here today, Lisa?”

Lisa’s answering smile is sheepish. “Got something to return,” she says, holding up a little glass jar full of lavender colored pills that you immediately recognize. “I’m guessing you’ve already heard the news. Looks like I won’t be needing these anymore, right?”

Your laugh sounds brittle, even to your own ears. “Right. Yeah. Not anymore.”

For just over ten years, Lisa has been the wolf assigned to help Hoseok through his heat. Between his family’s status and his longtime designation as the next alpha of the Gwangju pack, it’s imperative for Hoseok to avoid anything that might be perceived as scandalous. Torrid sex stories splashed across tabloid covers is the last thing a man like Hoseok needs, and that’s where Lisa comes in. Once a year, for three days, she goes to him, and no one is none the wiser. Her job is one that calls for the utmost discretion, and as the daughter of a high-ranking Council official, no one understood that better than she did. You’d only found out because of your role as one of the few witches in the country who makes and stocks the proper contraceptives for such wolves—the dosage much stronger than the human equivalent.

And when Lisa had first approached you to purchase the pills, you’d dropped two jars and nearly set fire to a third. Your stomach had fallen to somewhere around your toes, right alongside the shattered glass and little lavender tablets.

You’d chalked the accident up to surprise. Hoseok hadn’t mentioned anything to you, after all, and you’d known very little about the intricacies of werewolf heats back then, having just opened your shop at age eighteen. But surprise doesn’t explain the snaking jealousy that bubbles up in your tummy every time Lisa comes in to restock her supply of pills, nor does it explain the overwhelming sense of relief you feel now as she presses the unopened jar into your hands.

“I still can’t believe he’s going to be the most powerful man in Gwangju soon.” Lisa steps back, tucking her hair behind her ear and letting out a soft sigh. “And now he’s engaged, too. It’s pretty crazy, huh?”

“Crazy,” you agree tonelessly, turning to replace the jar onto the appropriate shelf.

Lisa, however, is nothing if not perceptive. A gentle hand lands on your shoulder, stopping you in your tracks. “Hey,” she begins, soft and slow. “You know you can talk to me, right? Are you—?”

But the sound of the bell drowns out the rest of her question, metallic and bright in the quiet of your shop. “Hello? Anyone home?” a cheery voice asks.

“Be right there,” you say immediately, shrugging off Lisa’s hand and stepping out from amongst the shelves. There’s a young woman standing at the checkout counter, rifling through the collection of seeds on display, and you cringe as she replaces a few packets in the wrong spots. “How can I help you?”

At the sound of your voice, the woman turns gracefully on her heel, her expression a perfectly crafted amalgamation of surprise and delight. “{Name}!” she exclaims, stepping forward with an outstretched arm. “Long time no see!”

“N-Nayeon,” you stammer, the shock of seeing her face freezing you in place. “What… what brings you here?”

The dark-haired woman steps forward to pull you into a hug, enveloping you in her fruity perfume. “Would you believe me if I said I wanted to catch up with an old friend?” she asks playfully.

We were never friends, you want to say. In your head, Bast lets out a derisive snort of agreement. Lisa, you notice, has conveniently melted away somewhere amidst the organized chaos of your shop, disappearing into the myriad shelves and knickknacks.

“Plus, I really wanted to look at some flowers,” Nayeon continues, betraying her true purpose at last. “You’ve heard, haven’t you? About my engagement? I’m sure Hoseok—I mean, my fiancé—has mentioned it to you, of all people. You are his best friend, after all.”

The inside of the shop is beginning to feel stifling. Perspiration trickles down your neck and you tug at your collar, loosening the material from where it’s plastered against your skin. “Sure,” you manage, once you feel like you can breathe again. “Right. Sure. The flowers are right this way, if you want to follow me.”

I’d forgotten how much I don’t like her, your familiar remarks dryly in your head.

Shut up, Bast.

Mercifully, he does. There’s a tug on your feet, and you glance down just in time to see him morph out of the shadow you cast against the sun-drenched floor. Ghostly and amorphous at first, he quickly solidifies into the feline figure you’ve grown accustomed to, and slinks protectively around your ankles before darting off to perch in the cushioned bay window seat.

Conveniently, that’s also where the flower display is. Colorful blooms and trailing leaves adorn the wooden shelves and tables in this particular corner of the shop, and you force yourself to shift back into professional mode as you come to a stop in front of an assortment of honeysuckle. “So, what kind of flowers are you looking for?” you ask, brushing your fingers along the pale yellow petals.

Nayeon hums thoughtfully and picks up a potted rosebush, examining it from all angles. “Roses, maybe. Are roses too clichéd now?” She brings the crimson buds closer and inhales, eyes fluttering shut. “No matter. I’ve always liked them.”

“They’re beautiful,” you agree, turning your attention to the selection of roses lining the topmost shelf. “Do you have a color preferen—?”

“Or maybe these would be better,” Nayeon interrupts, plucking up a pale pink calla lily from the bouquet you keep in a table display. “Or that one—what is it?”

You follow the trajectory of her gaze to a bunch of little white flowers with golden centers, stark against the dark dirt and surrounding green foliage. “That would be bloodroot,” you answer. “One of my personal favorites—it’s both ornamental and medicinal. It would look lovely in a bouquet.”

Nayeon pulls a face and shakes her head. “No, no—I don’t want anything with such a horrible name. What about these?” she asks, reaching up to take a closer look at a larger bloom. “Peonies, right?”

By the time Nayeon makes it back to the checkout counter with a few sample rose cuttings in hand, you’re fairly certain that several eternities have passed. “Is there anything else you need?” you ask as you ring her up and wrap the flowers neatly in paper.

“A discount for an old friend?” she queries, shooting you a playful wink. When you don’t answer right away, she giggles. “I’m kidding! Obviously, I’ll pay. It’s not like I’m pressed for money—I mean, you’ve seen who my fiancé is, right? Now gosh, where did I put my wallet?”

Your cheeks are beginning to feel far too hot. Nayeon is still rummaging in her purse, and you quickly duck beneath the counter under the pretense of looking for some ribbon to tie off the bouquet. Fanning your face, you take a few deep breaths, listening as she continues chattering away.

“We’re having dinner tonight, actually, Hoseok and I. It’ll be our second real date, and… wait!” She gasps, and you peer up just in time to see her slap a hand over her perfectly lacquered mouth. “You should come! Bring someone, if you can—it’ll be like a double date!”

If you can? Bast snipes. Curse her.

You sigh inwardly and straighten back up, ribbon in hand. Shut up, Bast.

If you won’t, I will.

You’ll do no such thing.

Mustering up your best, most earnest smile, you hand over the wrapped flowers along with her change. “That sounds like fun,” you tell her, ignoring the way your insides lurch at the lie. “When and where?”

Nayeon beams and rattles off the address of an unfamiliar restaurant. “Don’t be late!” she calls as she heads for the door. The bell jangles cheerily as she departs, and as soon as the door shuts behind her, Lisa pokes her head around a nearby bookshelf.

“Finally,” she sighs, walking over to join you. “I thought she’d never leave.”

Ordinarily, you wouldn’t dare speak ill of a customer, but you’re willing to make an exception today. “You and me both,” you reply, watching as Bast slinks over like a shadow and hops onto the counter beside you. He nuzzles his face into the crook of your elbow in silent solidarity, and you mindlessly begin scratching behind his ears as Lisa speaks again.

“Are you really going to go to that dinner tonight?”

You meet her gaze, shrugging. “I already said I would. Do I really have a choice?”

There isn’t much else to say, and both you and she know it. Pushing off from where she’s leaning against the countertop, Lisa flips her coppery hair over her shoulder and shoots you a look, brown eyes full of sympathy. “Good luck,” she says sincerely. You get the feeling that she wants to say something else, but decides against it at the last minute. Instead, she bids you goodbye and walks out with a wave and another chime of the bell. Silence settles over the shop once more, and you allow yourself a few moments to breathe—slow and deep, in and out—before picking up your phone and opening up the most recent text messages. It doesn’t take long to find the name you’re looking for, but you still pause, thumbs hovering over the keyboard, before you begin to type.

[4:21pm] You: how would you like to join me for a very awkward dinner date?

[4:21pm] Jin: consider me intrigued.

///

You and Jin arrive at the restaurant first. It’s an ornate, palatial place with tuxedoed waitstaff and a coat room, and despite giving the name ‘Jung’ at the door, you’re certain that Hoseok played no part in the venue selection. The host ushers you to a booth tucked in the back, the cushioned seats a velvety burgundy and a chandelier glittering overhead, throwing refracted, iridescent light across the veined marble table. All of a sudden, the simple black dress you’re wearing feels painfully inadequate. Glancing down at your feet, you wonder if you should have worn heels instead.

Beside you, Jin cuts a striking figure in a creamy silk shirt with ribbons that tie into a bow at his throat, the material loose and flowy up until where it tucks into fitted black slacks. His pink hair complements the elegant outfit perfectly, parted and swept off his forehead to reveal his dark brows.

As if reading your mind, he lays a gentle hand on your shoulder. “You look beautiful,” he says, before gesturing at the booth. “Now, do you want the inside or outside? Think you’ll need to make a quick getaway at some point?”

“Probably,” you sigh. Jin nods and sits down first, and you watch him slide across the seat cushion before settling in beside him. “I still can’t believe you volunteered to be here,” you murmur, plucking up one of the folded cloth napkins and fiddling with the crisp white edges. “You’re a saint, I swear.”

Jin chuckles and plucks the napkin from your clasped hands, laying it across your lap instead. “Not a saint,” he says, matching your soft tone. “Just someone who cares about you.”

Your cheeks warm at his sudden proximity. “Thank you,” you tell him, for what must be the umpteenth time. “I can’t even imagine what I’d do without you.”

“Good thing you don’t have to, then,” he replies with a grin. “Now, chin up. They just walked in.”

You can’t help the groan that escapes you. “Is it too late to run?”

“Afraid so,” he answers honestly.

And then Nayeon is slipping into the cushioned seat opposite you, syrupy smile in place on her berry lacquered lips. “Hi!” she chirps, laying a hand on Hoseok’s arm as he sits down beside her. “Sorry we’re late. We, um…” She pauses and shoots Hoseok a conspiratorial look, giggling. “... lost track of the time.”

Your magic flares, hot and bright in your veins, and you know Jin feels it too when he lays a cautionary hand on your knee beneath the table. “We weren’t waiting long,” he says, offering the two a genial smile. He’s perfectly polite as he and Nayeon exchange quick introductions, and gestures toward the assortment of menus on the table as soon as everyone has settled down. “Why don’t we order some wine to start?”

“Oh, that’s a splendid idea! Isn’t that a splendid idea, Hoseok?” Nayeon turns to the auburn-haired man beside her, and you do the same, gaze landing on Hoseok for the first time tonight. He’s in an all black ensemble, sharp jacket layered over a silky black shirt, the top buttons loosened to bare a tantalizing sliver of golden skin. His auburn hair is parted, a stray lock falling across his forehead, and you shiver when you realize he’s staring right back at you with dark, unreadable eyes.

At the sound of Nayeon’s voice, Hoseok seems to snap out of his trance, his expression smoothing out as he plasters on a smile. “Take a look at the menu,” he says, picking up the leather-bound book and offering it to her. “Dinner’s on me.”

You blink. “We can’t let you do that, Hobi.”

“Let me pick up at least part of the tab,” Jin adds, already reaching for his wallet. “I’m no corporate bigshot, but I do well enough for myself.”

“No need to be modest,” you chime in, nudging him playfully. “Weren’t you just telling me about your new restaurant opening on the way over? Next week, right?”

Jin’s ears redden as all the attention is turned onto him. “Next week, yeah.”

“That’s amazing!” Nayeon chirps, pressing closer to Hoseok. “We’ll have to check it out sometime. Maybe a date night, right, darling?”

Hoseok busies himself with rearranging his cutlery, swapping the knife and fork around. “Right—sure. If we ever make it up to Seoul, we’ll, uh… we’ll definitely stop by. Congratulations, man.”

The conversation continues. A server stops by to take your wine order, and Jin decides on a moderately priced bottle of cabernet sauvignon. Glasses are brought over, and wine is poured. Hoseok finishes his quickly and pours himself another, and though his wolf metabolism prevents him from getting drunk off of regular wine, you know that he’s a bit of a lightweight and tends to avoid drinking heavily no matter what the beverage. He’s drinking with a purpose tonight, and you’re beyond grateful when Jin pipes up with yet another story when the conversation lulls.

“And then I found out that the oven was on the whole time! Adam would probably let the entire apartment go up in flames just to spite me—I should watch my back.”

“Or, you know, just watch the oven more closely,” you tease. “I’ve seen your place, Jin—it’s a complete fire hazard. It’s a wonder it hasn’t burned to the ground already.”

Jin sniffs. “You’re exaggerating. Stop making me look bad.”

“You make yourself look bad,” you retort, laughing when his lower lip juts out into a pout.

Across the table, Hoseok clears his throat. “Speaking of fire hazards—did I ever tell you about the time {Name} set me on fire?”

“I did no such thing!” you protest, reaching over to slap his arm. “I mean, okay, maybe a little bit, but that was one time! And you were barely singed!”

Hoseok snorts out a laugh. “Barely singed? I couldn’t sit properly for a week.”

“Oh please, that’s a lie and you know it!”

Nayeon interrupts your conversation with a loud huff, setting her wineglass down with enough force to thud against the veined marble tabletop. “Do one of you maybe want to fill us in on the joke here?”

Abashed, you glance back at Hoseok, watching as his smile slowly fades back into the careful, neutral expression he’s worn all evening. “Sorry,” you murmur. “It’s an old story from when we were kids—when we first met, actually. We were seven years old, and it was the second day of school. I didn’t have a very good handle on my magic yet, and accidentally set Hoseok’s tail on fire during recess.”

“I preferred to run around in my wolf form back then,” Hoseok further elaborates. “There was a big field out behind the school—remember that, {Name}?”

You nod. “Of course. It went right up to the very edge of the woods. And if you kept going and went far enough, you reached the old wooden bridge.”

Hoseok is smiling again, soft and fond. “That thing was a death trap.”

“But the teachers could never keep us away,” you say, grinning at him.

“All right,” Nayeon interrupts again, sniffing disdainfully. “Enough about the old days—I think it’s time to talk about the present. And more importantly, the future.” She sighs happily and props her chin up in her palm, ensuring that the delicate golden band on her ring finger is on full display, the metal glimmering in the warm light. “You’re both invited to the wedding, of course. And I never did properly thank you for the flowers today, {Name}!”

Her words seem to come as a surprise to Hoseok, who straightens up in his seat. “Flowers? You visited Hellebore today?”

“Of course I did!” Nayeon hides a giggle behind a manicured hand. “I wouldn’t even think of trusting anyone else with my bouquet.”

Hoseok’s gaze skitters over to you, awash with concern and tinged with apology, but you ignore him in favor of forcing your expression into something that’s meant to be a smile. Yet no matter how much you strain your cheeks and stretch your lips, it feels—and looks, you’re sure—far more like a grimace.

“I’m happy to do it,” you lie, your teeth gritted and tight. “I don’t mind it one bit.”

///

“So. That was just as awkward as promised.”

You and Jin are walking back to Hellebore, leaving behind the bustling downtown area for the darker, quieter streets of your neighborhood. Your companion’s hair is tinged orange in the glow from the streetlamps, and you can only chuckle humorlessly when he turns to you and raises his eyebrows.

“Can’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“I was duly warned,” Jin agrees.

A car drives by, the headlights throwing Jin’s profile into stark relief. His expression is solemn but he doesn’t say anything else and neither do you. The remainder of the walk passes in silence, broken only by the occasional strain of conversation from passersby and the low drone of late night traffic. You reach Hellebore with no incidents, and you muffle a yawn as Jin steps into the wardrobe to go back to Seoul.

Just before he shuts the door behind him, he shoots you a meaningful glance over his shoulder. “You should tell him how you feel, you know. He deserves to know. And you… you deserve to be happy.”

He doesn’t elaborate, and you don’t need him to. Long after he’s gone, his remark echoes in your head, and no matter what, you simply cannot seem to shake it.

///

It’s been years since you’ve last gone to the old bridge, but after last night’s conversation you find yourself pulled back, lured by the promise of memories of a kinder time. The forest beyond the field hasn’t changed much since your school days, and neither, you realize, has the bridge itself. It still stands tall, proudly spanning the steep ravine that your teachers warned you about, the rickety wood splitting apart at the seams and overgrown with lichen and climbing ivy. Far below, the white-capped river rushes by on its long, turbulent journey to the sea.

Carefully, you step onto the bridge—first one foot, then the other. The energy in the air shifts as soon as your feet leave the loamy earth, finding traction instead on hewn wood, and you sigh as your fingertips brush against the railing. The magic here is an old magic—different from the ancient magic that dwells in places like the werewolves’ clearing and the realms of the fae. The low thrum of it fills the air and seeps into your veins, quickening your pulse and prickling your skin.

“I thought you might be here.” The voice comes from your left, barely audible over the rush of the river.

“You thought right,” you reply, stepping forward until you’re toeing the railing and leaning over to stare down into the swirling, eddying waters below.

Hoseok joins you at the edge. His profile is stark against the leafy green backdrop, and for a few moments, all is still. Then: “I’m really sorry about last night.”

The apology hangs in the silence for a few moments before fading into the sound of churning water and wind whistling through the trees. You suck in a deep breath, oxygen swelling your lungs until you can hold it in no longer, before letting it escape in a resigned sigh.

“You don’t have to apologize to me, Hoseok.”

“Maybe not. But I want to.” He shoots you a sidelong glance. “Will you let me make it up to you?”

You raise a brow. “Make it up to me? And how exactly do you plan on doing that?”

“Anything you want.” Hoseok smiles crookedly, but you can’t quell the tumult brewing in your belly.

“What do you want, Hobi?”

His smile fades. “I—” He stops and shakes his head, auburn hair flying. “It doesn’t matter what I want. This is about you.”

You gaze up at him, taking in the sharp cut of his jawline and the straight angle of his nose. Your eyes trail along the smooth slope of his rounded cheeks and the soft curve of his mouth, lingering on the little mole atop his upper lip.

And then you reach out and take his hand, savoring the way his fingers immediately, comfortably settle into the spaces between your own. “Why don’t we head down to the river?” you ask. “It’s been a long time since we’ve been, and I’ve missed it.”

Hoseok’s expression softens, a glimmer of something bright shining in his amber-flecked irises. Gently, he tugs on your hand, taking the lead as you leave the bridge behind and head north in search of the sloping path that will take you down and into the ravine that houses the riverbed. You chance a few glances over the treacherous edge, watching the water froth and tumble over the rocks.

“You know, this seems a lot more dangerous now than it did back then,” you muse. “I see why our teachers were always trying to keep us away.”

“We were kids back then,” Hoseok says, grinning. “We thought we were invincible. Nothing could touch us.”

“Simpler times,” you agree with a laugh. “I set your tail on fire, you cried—”

“—and then we became lifelong friends,” Hoseok finishes, joining in your mirth. “Easy-peasy.”

Together, you locate the path down to the ravine. The descent is easier than it was back then, your longer limbs extending your reach, but you’re grateful for Hoseok’s steadying hand all the same. He carefully guides you around the biggest rocks and tree roots, pulling you closer when you lose your footing near the bottom. His fingers remain twined with yours even after you’ve safely arrived at the riverbed, stepping across stones that have been worn smooth and warmed by the sun. You slip off your shoes, letting them dangle from your free hand, and Hoseok does the same.

Sunlight glitters off the water, throwing a thousand refractive diamonds across the surface, but when you dip your toes in you find that it’s cold as a mountain spring in autumn. That doesn’t stop Hoseok from bending down to splash you though, and you shriek in surprise before retaliating with a silent spell that sends icy water splattering across the faded denim of his jeans.

“That’s not fair!” he protests. “You can’t use magic!”

“I’m just using every resource available to me,” you reply with a sly grin, sending a swelling wave of water toward him with a lazy twist of your hand.

From beneath his drenched hair, Hoseok raises a challenging brow in your direction. “Oh yeah?”

Before you can even blink, he’s shrugging off his jacket and pulling his shirt over his head, baring a taut, honeyed abdomen and toned arms. Tossing the discarded clothes onto the bank, he unfastens his belt and lets that drop as well, fixing you with a crooked little smirk all the while. The muscles in his torso ripple.

And then he’s shifting—limbs elongating and reddish-brown fur sprouting from his skin. His remaining clothing rips under the strain of the transformation, floating downstream in tattered shreds, but you don’t pay them any mind. No matter how many times you’ve watched Hoseok shift, you’ll never quite get used to it. He hunches over, more beast than man at this point, his chest rumbling. And before you know it—before you can even pinpoint exactly when the transformation is complete—he’s standing before you as a massive russet wolf, baring ferociously sharp teeth that you know could easily tear a man limb from limb.

His eyes, however, remain the same—warm, molten brown flecked with amber and gold, a devilish twinkle lurking in their depths. You cock your head to the side in a silent challenge, and swear that the wolf in front of you grins before pouncing forward, landing in the river with an enormous splash that leaves you thoroughly drenched.

“Now we’re both soaked!” you cry in between giggles, watching as Hoseok emerges from the water, his fur dampened black and dripping. “How is this a win for you?”

Hoseok rears back and lets loose a triumphant howl, shaking himself out and further drenching you with the spray of water from his coat. You squeal and back up several steps, batting him away, but Hoseok just presses closer and nuzzles his wet face into the crook of your neck. His body heaves with every breath, flaring hot against your skin, and for a few long moments, you simply stand there, your arms coming up to wrap around his neck as icy water rushes past your ankles.

After what feels like an eternity, you step back, releasing Hoseok and staring up into his face. Even in his wolf form, he towers over you, and you reach up to stroke his muzzle tenderly before bopping him on the nose. “Come on,” you murmur. “Let’s dry off.”

Hoseok lets out a low rumble of agreement, and together, you make your way back to shore. You fold up his discarded clothing while he trots off to locate his shredded jeans, quickly finding them caught between some rocks and carrying the denim tatters back over to you in his teeth. Shaking your head, you add it to the growing pile and lay a hand atop it. Heat concentrates in your fingertips, mingling with the magic running through your veins. Stitch by stitch, his jeans repair themselves, drying in the process. Hoseok bumps your cheek with his nose in gratitude and darts off to change, and you dry your own clothes while you wait.

When Hoseok returns, he’s reverted to his human form, fully dressed and raking a hand through his damp hair. “Thanks for drying these off,” he says, flashing you a sheepish grin. “And for fixing my pants. Again.”

“Mending charms are easy,” you reply, and it’s the truth. Over the many years you’ve known Hoseok, you’ve mended his clothing countless times—from the accidental transformations in his early years, before he could control it, to the calculated ones as he got older. Hoseok doesn’t shift terribly often nowadays, but on occasion he still goes out to stretch his muscles and hunt with his pack. His grandfather, in particular, always made the time to take him hunting at least once a month. You wonder if he’s gone since he passed, but decide not to ask.

“Should we go see the Towers?” you ask instead.

“Lead the way,” he agrees, falling into step beside you as you head downstream. The ravine walls are higher here, decorated with gnarled roots and rocky outcrops that obscure the periwinkle sky and cast long shadows across the ground. Cairns begin to crop up on both sides of the river—each tower of stones carefully and deliberately stacked. They’re small and scattered at first, but gradually become taller and more frequent until you’re nearly surrounded by a forest of stone. The air grows noticeably heavier—the magic more potent. It almost feels as if electricity is dancing across your skin, the sparks sinking into your pores and melding with your soul.

Hoseok feels it too, if the look of awe in his eyes is any indication. “I can’t believe I’d nearly forgotten about this place,” he marvels, running a finger across one of the stacked stones. “Do you feel that? The magic?” Then he chuckles. “Wait, of course you do. What am I talking about?”

You smile softly, tracing the path his fingertips leave behind. “Yeah, Hobi. I feel it.”

The topmost stones are almost out of your reach now. Reaching into your pocket, you pull out a gray pebble about the size of your palm—a near perfect disc veined with white. Gently, you place it atop the cairn closest to you, watching it glint in the sunlight for a moment before turning to your companion.

“Well?”

Ancient legend dictates that as long as an offering is left, one may take a stone from the Towers. You and Hoseok have each acquired a rather sizable collection during your childhood years, lured by the promise that the stones will bring about good fortune and happiness.

“I forgot to bring something,” Hoseok admits, scratching the back of his head sheepishly. “But I can pick one out for you. Hang on…” He hums thoughtfully as he scans the towering pillars, tapping his chin until he alights on one in particular, plucking up a stone that’s been worn smooth, burnished orange and marbled with ivory and copper. “What do you think?”

“It’s beautiful,” you reply, admiring the way the marbled surface glitters in the sun.

Hoseok takes your hand and places the stone gently in your palm. “It’s yours.”

Then he’s off—stepping over a fallen log to admire another tower, brushing a curious finger across a moss-covered rock before glancing over his shoulder at you. “Coming?”

You nod, tucking his gift away safely in your pocket. Together, you carve out a path amongst the towering cairns, clambering over river rocks and brushing aside the dense undergrowth. The path opens up again gradually, revealing the burbling water to your left and the steep ravine wall to your right. The river is calmer here—clear enough to see all the way to the bottom where shimmering, silvery fish dart about. A low, flat rock juts out into the water a short ways away, and Hoseok strides over to plop atop it, gesturing for you to join him.

“This is nice,” he sighs once you’ve made yourself comfortable by his side. “The fresh air is doing me a world of good. I’ve been cooped up at the office for so long, I swear I almost forgot what trees smell like.”

“You’re more than welcome to sniff around the shop if you ever need a reminder,” you tell him, nudging his shoulder playfully. “Better yet, I’ll bring you a plant for your office. Spruce up the place a little bit.”

“That sounds great, actually,” he admits with a chuckle. “I don’t have your green thumb, though. I’ll probably end up accidentally killing it.”

“Something low maintenance, then,” you promise. “A succulent, maybe. When should I bring it by?”

Hoseok’s expression sombers. “You can always stop by tomorrow after the hearing.”

Your heart plummets into your stomach. The Ministry—the overarching government body that dictates all Shadowfolk affairs—summons every pack alpha for a confirmation hearing when they first come into power. “They’re holding the hearing? Already?”

He nods. “The Ministry’s summoned me for tomorrow morning. First item on their schedule, I’m pretty sure.” A resigned sigh escapes his lips, dissipating into mist on the air. “And there’s a party at JungTech HQ afterward. You know. So my dad can officially hand the reins over.”

“The most powerful man in Gwangju,” you murmur, thinking back to Lisa’s words.

Hoseok lets out a derisive snort. “Yeah, right. The most powerful man, beholden to his dad, the Council, and the entire fucking Ministry. It doesn’t matter what I want to do. Never has.”

It’s the second time he’s dismissed his feelings, and as much as you want to ask what it is he truly wants, you find that the words are stuck in your throat, your mouth suddenly as dry as the desert on a cloudless day. Instead, you lay a silent hand over his, feeling his warmth seep up into your palm.

“Hey.” Hoseok doesn’t tear his gaze away from the sky, watching a flock of birds fly overhead. “Yesterday, when Nayeon said she’d stopped by… did she say anything to you?”

The sound of her name leaving his lips leaves a sour taste on your tongue, but you swallow it down. “Not really,” you tell him. “She looked at some flowers and invited me to dinner. Simple as that.”

Hoseok nods slowly, lips pursed. “Was Jin already there when she came?”

You blink. “Jin? Oh, no—no, he wasn’t. I texted him after Nayeon left.”

“Ah.”

“I’m glad he was free, though.” You stare down into the water, where a curious fish swims in and out of the shadow you cast. “I’m honestly not sure who I could’ve invited if he hadn’t been available. Plus, it’s been ages since I’ve had dinner with him, and it’s been a few months since you’ve seen him too, right? I’m really happy it worked out.” You’re rambling now, but you can’t stop yourself. Hoseok has become eerily still, lost in introspection, and you feel obligated to fill the silence.

“You two make sense, you know.” Hoseok’s voice comes suddenly. “As a couple. Both witches—it makes a lot of sense.”

You peer over at him, eyes widening at his assumption. “We—we’re not actually together, Jin and I. We’re just friends.”

Hoseok straightens at that, his gaze flitting down to meet yours. “Really?”

“Really.”

A beat of silence. Hoseok looks like he wants to say something else, but a quiet buzz from his pocket stops him in his tracks. His mouth clamps shut as he checks his phone, teeth clicking together, and you can tell from the sudden tension in his jaw that it isn’t good news.

“Do you have to head back?”

He nods stiffly, silent apology written all over his face. “Work calls.”

You offer him a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry about me. Go on. I’ll see you tomorrow after your hearing.”

He nods again and turns to leave. Before he can take too many steps, though, you call him back, reaching into your pocket to pull out the stone he’d gifted you earlier.

“Take this,” you murmur, pressing it into his hands. “I’m pretty sure you need it more than I do right now.”

Hoseok’s fingers curl protectively around the stone, holding on like it’s his only remaining lifeline. “Thanks.”

///

Downtown Gwangju is a monochrome forest of towering glass and steel, clamorous and unchecked by nature, proudly defiant in the face of the earth mother herself. The sidewalks are awash with people rushing back from their lunch break, forcing you to dodge around several businessmen too absorbed in their phones. Just as you are finding your footing again, a hapless intern carrying a tray of coffee cups rushes past, nearly crashing into you.

“Oh, shi—sorry! Sorry, oh, jeez. Are you okay?”

You wave off his apology with a smile, taking in the ill fit of his suit and the messy knot of his tie. “Don’t worry about it,” you tell him, reaching out to help him steady the tray in his hands. A stabilizing spell—silently cast, the magic pulsing through your fingertips—should be enough to get him back to his office with no additional mishaps. You wonder if he’ll notice that his tray is suddenly more well-balanced, or that his hands have steadied.

But then again, you suppose it doesn’t really matter whether he does or not.

Somehow, someway, you make it to JungTech without running into anyone else. The receptionist recognizes you immediately and points you toward the elevator with a smile, and you thank her as you press the up button. It doesn’t take long to arrive, and you take a deep breath as you step inside, staring at your reflection in the mirrored walls.

All right? Bast queries, stirring awake in your mind.

You release the breath that you’d been holding in a long whoosh. Yeah. I’m all right.

The doors open on the top floor, and straight away, you are assailed by a cacophony of sounds. Scattered conversations and laughter intermingle with the clinking of champagne flutes. There are at least fifty people scattered around the open space that lies between the elevator and the glass-fronted CEO’s office at the very back—the office that bears Hoseok’s name on the door. There’s no sign of the man himself, but you have no doubt that he’s nearby. This entire party is a celebration for him, after all.

The elevator doors begin to close, and you quickly reach out to stop them, stepping out before it can protest at your dawdling. A young man in a pristine white shirt materializes on your right with a tray full of champagne flutes, and you pluck one off with a murmur of thanks. Sipping slowly, you wander around the perimeters of the party, listening to the lively chatter. Across the room, you spot Lisa, returning her friendly wave with one of your own.

“Hello, {Name}.”

The deep, familiar voice has you whirling around in an instant, head bowing in automatic deference. “Mr. Jung,” you murmur, not quite daring to look him in the eye. “It’s been a while.”

Hoseok’s father inclines his head in acknowledgment, salt-and-pepper hair gleaming beneath the fluorescent lights. No doubt he was a handsome man in his younger days, but the salt in his hair has steadily overtaken the pepper in the last few years, the stern lines around his mouth deepening.

“I didn’t know you would be joining us today,” he says cordially. “But then again, I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised after all these years. Have you been here long?”

“Not long. Five minutes, maybe.” Beneath his piercing gaze, you feel like a small child again. Quickly, you scramble for something else to say, gesturing around the sleek glass interior of the office. “This is a lovely party. You must be so proud.”

Another nod. “I wasn’t sure that Hoseok was going to step up,” he admits. “I had my reservations about whether or not he would accept his duties as a Jung, but he has, and I’m pleased that he did. It’s no easy feat, running this company and leading the city’s pack. But I’ve served my time, just as my father did before me.” His gaze flits down to meet yours suddenly, and you find that you can’t read the emotion swimming in them. “I believe I spotted you at his funeral the other day, did I not?”

You nod, resisting the urge to take a sip from your nearly empty champagne glass as your cheeks warm under the scrutiny. “I was, yes. I’m very grateful to have had the opportunity to pay my respects. He was a great man.”

“That, he was,” Mr. Jung agrees. “Hoseok takes after him in many ways. My father—as great as he was—always had a soft spot for the boy. Coddled him a bit too much.”

“With all due respect, Mr. Jung, I think that’s a grandfather’s job,” you reply with a smile.

That earns you a smile in return, the lines around his mouth easing. After exchanging a few more pleasantries, Hoseok’s father excuses himself to talk to the other guests, and you set off in search of Hoseok himself. You can feel his aura somewhere nearby, strong and steady, but the room is large enough that you cannot pinpoint his exact location. Not for the first time, you curse the fact that you don’t have a werewolf’s sharp sense of smell. No doubt it could easily be as cumbersome as it is helpful, but it would certainly help you right now.

Turning a corner, you are about to continue lamenting your average olfactory system when you suddenly catch a glimpse of familiar auburn hair, afloat in a sea of black suits. Dodging around a sharply dressed businesswoman and ducking beneath a waiter’s serving tray clears your path to Hoseok, and you’re milliseconds away from stepping forward to greet him when you feel it.

There’s an energy emanating from Hoseok, the likes of which you’ve never felt from him before. It’s heavy and commanding and so potent that the air is laden with it, and a cursory glance at the people surrounding him reveals that they feel it too—their gazes lowered, voices hushed and respectful. In his fitted black suit and emerald green shirt, he looks every bit the alpha he is, and you are quickly realizing that you’re not immune to the power radiating off of him. The Hoseok standing before you isn’t the same Hoseok whose tail you set on fire all those years ago. Far from it. The revelation is somehow simultaneously terrifying and thrilling, and your heart leaps into your throat when you notice that he’s waving you over.

As if compelled, you comply, striding forward until you’re standing before him. “Hi,” your murmur, suddenly feeling shy.

Hoseok’s face splits into a smile. “Hi yourself,” he says, and you would have laughed if your insides didn’t feel like they were about to burst.

“I, um. I brought you your succulent,” you tell him, reaching into your bag. There’s a tiny potted jade plant inside, packaged neatly into a box that you open up and present to him. “It’s jade. Easy to keep alive, and easy to propagate too, if you’re inclined.”

Hoseok accepts your gift, his smile growing as he admires the plump green leaves. “It’s perfect. Thank you.”

You shrug and wave off his gratitude, fiddling to clasp your bag shut. “So,” you start, glancing around and gnawing on your bottom lip, completely missing the way Hoseok’s eyes darken as he follows the movement. “It looks like everything went well at the Ministry. Your dad is pleased.”

Hoseok hums, low in his throat. “You talked to him?”

“Yeah, just now.”

“I see.”

He looks like he wants to say something more, but he’s interrupted by a blur of motion and a shrill cry of his name. A moment later, Nayeon is at his side, latching onto his arm and batting her lashes, adorned in a form-fitting red dress and golden jewelry.

“Hoseok! There you are. I’ve been looking all over for you!” Then her gaze alights on you, eyes going wide as if she’s only just noticed your presence. “{Name}, oh my goodness. I almost didn’t see you there, hi!”

“Hello, Nayeon,” you grit out, unable to hide your scowl. You wonder if she spotted it before you hid it behind a large sip of champagne.

Luckily, she doesn’t seem to notice. Her attention refocuses onto a spot behind you, and you watch as her expression lights up, delight etching across her features. “Mr. Jung!” she exclaims. “There’s my favorite future father-in-law. Come and join us—it’s not a party without you.”

Hoseok’s father chuckles lightly, coming forward to stand beside you. “Long time no see,” he jokes, nodding in your direction. “And Nayeon—hello. How are you enjoying the party?”

“Oh, I’m having the loveliest time,” she chirps, simpering up at Hoseok. “How could I not be, when my fiancé is here with me?” Then she smiles—her lips painted the same shade of red as her dress. “But I’m sure I’m nowhere near as happy as you are. You must be beyond excited to spend some quality time with your wife after being busy for so long.”

“I am,” Mr. Jung admits. The severity in his features softens as he seeks out his wife, standing across the room surrounded by friends and extended family. “I’m a very lucky man to have a woman like her.”

Nayeon giggles. “And I’m a lucky woman to have a man like your son. Isn’t that right, darling?”

She tilts her head to look up at Hoseok, who blinks twice in rapid succession, his throat bobbing. “Right,” he says, his voice raspy. “The luckiest.”

And as you turn to engage Mr. Jung in conversation once more, you miss the way his gaze lingers on you.

///

Tuesdays at Hellebore are for brewing. You save bottling for Thursdays—giving your potions and other concoctions ample time to simmer and set—but today, you are hunched over the stove with all four burners turned to different temperature settings, watching over your pots so that they don’t boil over.

A cursory glance out the window tells you that it’s well into the afternoon, the pastel blue sky littered with trailing clouds lit hazy and golden in the sun. You’ve been in the kitchen since early morning, and, desperate for a breath of fresh air, you crack the window open and inhale deeply. Then you turn back to the stove, giving one pot a stir and adding a pinch of burdock root to another.

Wandering downstairs, you head to the greenhouse. The sunlight is brighter here, the air more humid. Inhaling deeply, you breathe in the scent of the hundreds of plants growing inside, before heading for the laburnum tree in the far corner. Carefully, you brush aside the cascading golden flowers, about to gather the dried ones that have fallen to the dirt when there’s a knock on the front door.

“I’m sorry, we’re close—” you say, stopping when you recognize the head of coppery red hair in the window. “Lisa?” Confused, you open the door and let her inside. “What brings you here today?”

“You need to go to Hoseok, now,” she says, foregoing any preambles. “He’s… well, you’ll see. Nayeon’s there right now, but she’s not helping the situation, and...” She sighs. “I’m pretty sure you’re the only one who can help him now.”

All at once, your stomach drops to your toes. “What’s wrong with Hoseok?” you demand. “Is he hurt?”

Lisa shakes her head, red hair flying. “No, he’s fine. I don’t know how much longer that’ll last, though.”

The cryptic response sends your heart into overdrive, pounding against your ribcage like a doomsday drum. Striding over to the bay window, you wake Bast from his nap in a slanted ray of sunlight, scratching behind his black ears and watching as his golden eyes flicker open, pupils going wide when he senses your turmoil.

What is it?

Hoseok, you reply shortly. Beneath your touch, Bast’s ears perk up.

What do you need?

You swallow, hard, and suck in a deep breath. I’m going to open a portal.

It’s a dangerous feat, and both you and Bast know it. Opening a portal requires an immense amount of energy, and maintaining one long enough to travel through is a risk to even the most experienced witches. You’ve heard horror stories of spliced limbs and paralysis, and in some cases, even death.

But for Hoseok, you’re willing to risk it all.

“Lisa,” you say, grabbing your purse and striding back to the front door of the shop. “Can you lock up once I’m gone?”

She nods nervously. “Of course.”

You incline your head in silent thanks. At your feet, Bast is slinking continuous figure-eights around your ankles, betraying his worry at the task ahead. Your own heart feels ready to spring out from your ribcage and onto the sun-drenched floor, but you swallow down your nerves and look down at your familiar once more. Ready? you ask.

Ready, Bast confirms. Be careful.

I will.

Closing your eyes, you begin to visualize Hoseok’s front door, focusing on every little detail you can remember. There’s the scuff in the black paint from when he first moved in and accidentally scraped a table leg against it. There’s the bronze knocker that always hangs slightly askew. The image builds slowly in your mind, coming together like the broken pieces of a puzzle.

The air around you is suddenly much warmer than before, an invisible force sapping away at your strength and weakening your legs. Bast’s energy melds with yours, but it’s barely enough to keep you on your feet. Exhaustion seeps into your bones and steals the oxygen from your lungs. You gasp, chest heaving.

I don’t think it’s going to work. Bast’s voice is a faint whisper in the back of your mind.

It will, you hiss. It has to.

The front door of your shop is beginning to glow white, becoming hazy and amorphous as the edges begin to blur. You spot a splash of black paint coming through the fog, followed by a bronze knocker. A matching handle appears a moment later, growing out of tendrils of mist and solidifying before your eyes.

Sucking in a deep breath, you reach forward to grab it. Slowly, you turn until you can turn no longer.

And then you step through.

The first thing you hear is a low, cavernous rumble—deep enough that you feel it reverberating through your very bones. Then your surroundings begin to come into focus. You’re in Hoseok’s entryway, all your limbs thankfully intact. The relief you feel at your success is quickly eclipsed by worry though, when you see Hoseok himself on the far side of the living room. The look in his brown eyes is nothing short of wild, his white shirt unbuttoned to nearly his navel and his auburn hair sweaty and disheveled.

“H-Hobi?” Your voice is no more than a breath, dissipating in the open air.

“Hoseok.” The new voice has you whirling. Nayeon is pressed against the wall opposite him, her expression harried. “Hoseok, please—“

“Get out,” Hoseok growls, his voice dangerously low. He’s bristling with the same energy as before, the same energy you felt back at JungTech—but this time it’s enough to fill the room and spill out the opened door and into the hallway. You can feel it pulsing against your skin, hot and electric, and know that Nayeon is even more affected from the way her shoulders slouch, her eyes dropping to the floor when he snarls. “Get out, now.”

She does. Nayeon turns on her heel and dashes out, slamming the door behind her and leaving you alone with Hoseok. His eyes are alight with something more wolf than man, his chest heaving with uneven breaths, and it’s all you can do not to shrink back when he turns his full attention onto you. Even from across the room, you can smell the liquor spilled across the coffee table in a dark ooze of fluid, cloying and bitter.

“What are you doing here?” Hoseok asks, his voice cracking on the last syllable. “You shouldn’t be here right now, {Name}.”

“Lisa told me to come,” you whisper. “You’ve been pushing yourself too much, Hoseok.”

Hoseok shakes his head and rakes a frazzled hand through his hair. “You need to leave,” he grunts. Shakily, he reaches out to right the overturned liquor bottle, the pad of his thumb skimming across the shattered edge.

“Let me do that,” you tell him, making to step forward, but Hoseok stops you with a raised hand and a low growl that stops you in your tracks.

“Don’t,” he hisses. “Don’t you dare come any closer to me.”

You shake your head. “Hobi, it’s obvious you’ve been drinking. Let me help you.”

“No!” he snarls, flinching back when you take a step forward. “You need to leave. It’s… it’s dangerous for you here.”

“Dangerous?” Your voice is reduced to a whisper at the severity of his reaction, the energy in the air intensifying until it’s almost unbearable. “Why?”

“Because I’m in heat!” Hoseok spits. He sucks in a deep breath, the air whistling between his teeth, before he lets out an agonized moan and pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’m in heat,” he repeats, reticence dripping from every syllable. “I can’t even fucking think straight, and I’m afraid I’m going to hurt you if you stay. So please, {Name}. Please go.”

“But Nayeon…” you begin, wavering when his eyes flash darkly at the mention of her name. “Or Lisa… I can call her, maybe—”

“No!”

You jump, startled at the volume of his shout.

“No,” Hoseok repeats, softer this time. “Don’t. I don’t want them. I’m—I’m fine.”

The sticky humidity and the pulsating energy flowing through the room tell you otherwise. “You’re clearly not,” you tell him gently, taking another step toward him. “Let me call Lisa. Or maybe one of the other girls in the pack, I’m sure someone can help y—”

“I don’t want Lisa.” Defeat suffuses his tone, his eyes fluttering shut. “I don’t want any of them. I want—fuck.” Hoseok groans and lets his head fall back against the wall, the dull thunk echoing in the stillness. “It doesn’t fucking matter what I want. You need to leave, {Name}. You’re only going to be in danger if you stay.”

For the second time that afternoon, only one word springs to mind. “Why?”

Hoseok groans again. “Because I’m weak,” he mutters hoarsely. “Because I’m weak, and I’m not thinking straight, and if you come any closer to me, I won’t be able to stop myself from pinning you against that wall right there and having my way with you.”

Your breath hitches in your throat. The rippling energy in the air is almost oppressive in its strength, and only grows when Hoseok’s gaze finally lands on you, his pupils blown out and blacker than the night.

“Go,” he entreaties, dragging a frazzled hand through his hair. “Please, {Name}.”

You suck in a deep breath, your lungs swelling and expanding with the newfound oxygen. Then, ever so slowly, you let your gaze flicker up to meet his. “What if I don’t want to?”

Hoseok freezes. Time comes to a standstill, and even the overwhelming energy emanating from him seems to falter. The room is near silent, broken only by your companion’s ragged breathing, his chest heaving beneath the thin white fabric of his shirt. Even from across the room, you can see the sheen of sweat coating his honeyed skin, shining in the light of the setting sun.

“You don’t mean that,” he says at last. “You can’t mean that.”

“I can,” you whisper. “And I do.”

For three agonizingly long seconds, Hoseok remains rooted firmly in place, his throat bobbing harshly. Then, before you can even blink, he’s striding forward—a blur of motion almost too quick for your eyes to follow. He comes to a stop a hair’s breadth from you, one hand reaching up to cup your face delicately, as if you’re made of glass.

“You,” he rasps, “have no idea what you’ve just done.” His thumb traces the swell of your cheek just below your eye, the motion surprisingly tender. Your heart stutters in your chest.

And then he leans down and crushes his mouth to yours.

The rest of the world falls away, dissolving into nothing. Your eyes flutter shut as Hoseok’s hands slide down your sides to curl around your hips, your body melting against his taut frame. He is all you can feel and all you can taste, and you keen helplessly when he grinds against you, his cock hot and hard against your stomach.

The sound seems to awaken something in Hoseok, a cavernous groan erupting from his throat. Pulling away from your mouth, he descends upon the delicate skin of your neck, teeth and tongue blossoming bruises in their wake. Shaky hands find the collar of your shirt, questioning eyes seeking out yours for permission that you happily give. He tugs the garment off almost delicately, his ravenous gaze roving across each bit of newly revealed flesh, and once it’s freed from your head he tosses it aside and sets about doing the same to the rest of your clothing.

Maybe it should feel odd, watching through lidded eyes as Hoseok drops to his knees to pull your jeans down and off your ankles. Maybe you should feel embarrassed, seeing your best friend bury his nose between your legs, delirious bliss etching across his features as he inhales, his strong fingers curling around your thighs to spread you wider. But instead, it feels completely and utterly natural—as if this was always meant to be.

“You smell divine,” Hoseok breathes, slotting himself between your spread thighs and running a fingertip along your lace-covered slit, collecting the considerable slick there and bringing it to his nose. “Fuck, {Name}. Just one whiff, and I can tell that you’re primed and ready for me.”

“Take me, then,” you breathe back shakily, rolling your hips when he slips past the lacy barrier of your panties to find your clit, circling around the sensitive nub until you’re gasping his name.

Hoseok’s gaze darkens to obsidian, his pupils swallowing up the amber-flecked brown of his irises. In one smooth motion, he’s on his feet again, straightening up to his full height as his hands find purchase on your hips. He twirls you around until you’re facing the wall, your palms pressed flat against the woven tapestry hanging there.

“Gorgeous.” A single word, laced with unmistakable awe. Then he’s fumbling with his belt buckle, the metallic clink and tug of a zipper reaching your ears, before he presses against you, clothed chest molding against your bare back. Even through the thin layer of fabric, you can feel the sweltering heat emanating from him, his sweat soaking through the cotton and sticking to your skin. His mouth finds its way to the junction of your neck and shoulder again—teasing at the flesh until you’re quivering—before he begins laying a trail of hot kisses down your spine.

“Wanna fuck you,” Hoseok rasps, tearing your panties away once his lips reach the waistband, the flimsy lace ripped to shreds in his desperate grip. “Want you on your front, want you on your back, want you on my tongue—” His voice drops, rumbling through his chest and sending shivers through your entire body. “Want you. Wanted you for so long.”

And as if to reinforce his words, the velvety head of his cock nestles against the cleft of your backside, hot and slick.

Wordlessly, you arch your back, presenting him with the tempting swell of your rear. A glance over your shoulder reveals the strained clench of his jaw and the bob of his throat, his biceps tensed and his gaze unwavering. His control is undoubtedly dangling by a single thread at this point—a delicate, gossamer thread that’s on the verge of snapping. The delirium of his heat is overtaking his senses, his grip tightening on your hips, and ever so slowly, he begins to press forward until the tip of his thick cock is just beginning to part your walls. Already, the fit borders on excruciating, and your body tenses at the intrusion, stretched to the limit around his thick girth.

Hoseok exhales shakily, his primal instincts warring with his desire to ensure your comfort. Soft lips drop kiss after kiss onto your bare shoulders, your back, your neck—wherever he can reach as he whispers tender praises into your skin. “Breathe, princess,” he encourages lowly. “You can take it—I know you can. You were made for me.”

Obediently, you inhale, focusing on the way your lungs expand and contract as you draw air into them. The pain ebbs away with each breath you take, until all that is left is a low throb of pleasure. Your hips rock back against him, and Hoseok takes it as a sign to push forward once more, parting your walls until he’s fully seated inside you, your body stretched to the limit as you mold around him.

There’s no pain now—only an aching desire for more, more, more. He’s deep enough to reach parts of you that you’ve never been able to explore before—either alone or with other partners—and you moan brokenly when he rolls his hips experimentally. “More, Hoseok,” you whimper. “Please.”

He obliges. One thrust leads into another, the punishing pace he sets fueled by his heady desperation for relief. The full, heavy weight of his cock dragging along your walls ignites every nerve ending in your body, sizzling electricity blazing through your veins. It’s all you can do to plant your palms flat against the tapestried wall, fingers twitching at the woven fabric as Hoseok grabs your hips with enough force to bruise and pulls you back against him in time with his thrusts.

“Look at you,” he says hoarsely. “Love the way you feel, clenching around me like that. My perfect, pretty girl, taking my cock so well. I always knew you were made for me.” He grunts, forehead falling against your back, damp hair matting against your skin as he continues rutting against you. “Always—fuck—knew you were my mate.”

The particularly harsh thrust that follows his raspy declaration sends all coherent thought flying out of your head, taking your surprise along with it. All you can manage is a shuddery whine that vaguely resembles his name, the sound intermingling with the obscene smack of flesh against flesh and the continuous stream of praises Hoseok whispers into your skin.

There’s something building inside you—a dull, throbbing pressure at the point where your body joins with his. He’s still rolling up into you, but each subsequent thrust grows more and more shallow. The realization dawns on your dazed mind all at once, as you feel the growing swell at the base of his cock. Hoseok is rendered near immobile as he finally reaches his high, the entirety of his length sheathed firmly inside your pussy as he spills ropes of white against your fluttering walls. The swelling continues, filling you until you feel fit to burst.

“H-Hoseok,” you gasp. “I can’t. I can’t—you’re going to rip me in half.”

Soothing hands smooth along your sides, warm lips littering kisses onto your bare shoulders. “You can,” he murmurs tenderly. “You were made for me, and I for you. You can take it, princess. I know you can.”

The gentle repetition of his fingertips trailing nonsensical patterns into your skin eases your labored panting somewhat. Beneath his touch, you slowly relax, the pressure in your abdomen abating as his knot begins to subside.

“You did so well.” His voice is no more than a mumble, almost lost in the sweat and slick coating your skin.

You sag against the wall, taking a few moments to catch your breath before slowly easing off of him, the sudden loss leaving your core empty and aching. Gingerly, you turn around to face him, acutely aware of the way your combined juices immediately begin dribbling down your thighs.

“You said I was your mate,” you whisper, almost afraid that the sentiment will disappear if voiced aloud. “Did… did you mean that?”

“Every word,” Hoseok replies, equally soft. “Is that okay?”

A smile blooms across your face. Rising up to your tiptoes, you kiss him again—a soft, reassuring peck that he immediately leans into, seeking out your touch like a flower in the sun. “More than okay,” you breathe, feeling the way his lips stretch upward against yours. “I’m glad, Hobi.”

Hoseok sighs into your mouth, a slow smile settling across his features. “Now it’s your turn,” he says, and in an instant, he’s swept you off your feet, one arm beneath your bent knees and the other around your back. “And I’m planning to take my time with you, princess. You’re not leaving here until I say so.”

You wrap your arms around his neck, crossing your hands at his nape. “Fine by me,” you tell him, earning yourself a wide grin. His lips seek out yours again as he carries you down the darkened hallway and into the shadowy depths of his bedroom, pausing only to nudge the lightswitch on with his elbow. Golden light suffuses the room as he steps forward to lay you on his bed, your back sinking into the plush mattress and dipping further when he joins you. He hovers over you with an arm on either side of your head, and you reach up to trace the vein that lines his biceps with a gentle fingertip, giggling when he gives your bottom lip a punishing nip.

The kiss deepens from there. Hoseok parts your lips and seeks out your tongue with his own, subduing it into compliance. By the time you pull apart, all the oxygen has left your lungs, leaving you flushed and gasping. Hoseok chortles breathlessly and trails down to press a kiss to your navel, before traveling downward until he’s reached your clit. Gently, he wraps his lips around the sensitive nub, rumbling with laughter when you buck against him.

“So needy,” he murmurs. To your displeasure, he straightens back up to kneel between your spread thighs, but your complaint quickly dissolves into thin air when he edges forward until his knee is pressed against your aching clit. Desperate for more friction, you grind against him, your wetness soaking through his jeans in a matter of seconds.

It doesn’t take long for pressure to build up in your belly again, winding tight as a coiled spring. Hoseok is staring down at you, transfixed, and his undivided attention only serves to bring you closer to the edge, teetering on the very brink.

“Look at you.” His voice could almost be described as a purr, if he weren’t so utterly canine in mannerisms and appearance. “Such a greedy little thing, all desperate to get off. You’re making a mess of my new jeans, princess.”

You’re too far gone to care about the teasing lilt that colors his tone. The edge is rapidly approaching, and one last roll of your hips is enough to send you over, your walls convulsing around nothing as you ride out your high.

Hoseok doesn’t wait. In an instant, he’s back between your legs, having moved so quickly you didn’t even see when he’d started or stopped. His tongue darts out to lave at your folds, a growl rumbling through his chest when your hips jump on instinct. Immediately, he tightens his grip, strong arms winding around your thighs and anchoring at your waist to render you helpless in his grasp, only able to take what he sees fit to give.

“How is it that you taste even better than you smell?” Hoseok muses as he leans down to suck your clit into his mouth, lips curling up into a pleased smirk when you gasp out his name. “Cute,” he says, releasing the nub in favor of descending to your drenched entrance instead, flicking his tongue shallowly inside before withdrawing with a chuckle.

“Hoseok—” you begin, only to dissolve into a moan when he sheaths two fingers inside you without any warning, curling them up and in until you’re shaking in his grasp.

“Come for me,” he commands softly. “Go on, let me hear you.”

And you do, chanting his name like a mantra as a wave of pleasure overtakes you. Hoseok’s thumb circles your clit in just the right way to prolong your orgasm, and it isn’t until you’re cringing from overstimulation that he finally relents, descending down to mold his mouth to yours in a searing kiss. His lips part yours, tongue dipping out to explore as he sheds his shirt and shucks off his ruined jeans. His skin, when he presses against you, burns hot as a furnace wherever it touches. Against your stomach, his cock stirs back to life.

He’s gentler this time. Every movement is slow and deliberate and tender as he breaches you, murmuring your name reverentially as he fills you again. Your body bows to his willingly, stretching to accommodate him, and the spike of pleasure that lances through you when he bottoms out is almost enough to send your oversensitive body over the edge again, your walls fluttering around him.

There’s an unmistakable shift in the air when Hoseok starts up a slow rhythm, leaning down to kiss you again. His lips move against yours, soft and tender, before moving past your jugular and down to the crook of your neck, elongated canines scraping against the delicate skin in a silent question. You wind your arms around his neck and nod, giving him his answer. There’s no need for words.

And then his teeth are sinking into the spot he’s so lovingly scoped out, breaking the skin. Your body collapses into a searing orgasm, and the pleasure intermingles with the pain of the bite until you are delirious, rendered boneless in his grasp. Hoseok’s hips stutter, his pace growing erratic as he soothes the wound over with his tongue.

You’re prepared for the swelling this time, but the fullness still manages to knock all the air out of your lungs, bordering on painful as his knot grows. Hoseok quells your whimpers with tender kisses, the instinct to comfort his mate paramount even as he paints your walls with ropes of creamy white. He traces a path from your lips down to where he’s marked and claimed you as his, imbuing your skin with a litany of praises that warm you from the inside out.

“My mate,” he murmurs, reverent. “Finally.”

You lean into his touch with a tired smile. “Finally? How long have you wanted this?”

His lips curl into a smile against your clavicle. “Ages. If I’m honest, I think I fell in love with you the day you set my tail on fire when we were kids. It’s always been you, {Name}. Only you.”

You can’t help it—you need to hear it from his mouth again. “You love me?”

Hoseok chuckles. “Of course I do. My tricky little minx—my perfect, pretty mate. I love you more than anything.” One hand reaches up to caress your cheek, running along the tender skin beneath your eye before cupping the back of your head so he can mold his mouth to yours. “Love you more than I can even explain,” he breathes, punctuating each word with a kiss. His hands blaze trails down the slopes of your body until he finally anchors below the crook of your legs. “So why don’t you let me show you instead?”

And he does. Over and over that night, and in the two days of his heat that follow, he shows you exactly how he feels. Propriety is forgotten, left by the wayside with his scorned fiancé and marriage. He is yours, and you are his.

Consequences be damned.

⇢ aftermath.

also set in this universe:

[myg]

[winterlogysblog]

FOUR KNIGHTS OF THE APOCALYPSE | HYPOCRITE

Title: Hypocrite

Summary: A Knight of Camelot realizing the wrongs of his King.

Note: This has been in my drafts for so long, it needs to come out at some point. I hope you enjoy.

---

"Sir Thomas, I'm glad to see that you are back." A guard smiled upon my arrival.

"I heard you know the location of the dreadful place where demons reside?" A voice entered but I know that voice all too well.

"Ardbeg, King Arthur will decide if you get to eliminate them or not, so don't get too excited," I said.

"You're right." Ardbeg chuckled.

"You're a father right?" I asked out of nowhere, I don't even know where it came from.

"Yes, but why ask that?"

"The four knights, they're little kids, so full of potential." I started.

"You're talking a lot like Pelgart," Ardbeg commented.

"They have families of their own. Are you actually willing to take a son away from his father?" I removed my helmet and looked at him.

Ardbeg is in silence. I know I touched on a sensitive subject.

"But we're doing this for King Arthur and Humanity so sacrifices have to be made right?" I lied my ass off.

"That’s right." Ardbeg just nodded.

"Now I must go." I bid him farewell and entered the elaborate hall where King Arthur sat at the end of it. A mage by his side. She's Merlin one of the Seven Deadly Sins. I don't think she's even human and I'm pretty sure her eyeball companion, Orlandi is a Vampire.

"Ardbeg will handle things from there." The King spoke. "Give this to him," Merlin said as a crystal and a piece of paper floated above me.

"What's this?" I asked.

"It's a Goddess Amber it can trap hundreds of demons inside. Rather useful for the mission." King Arthur said. "Merlin will explain everything to him later."

"Of course, I'll inform Ardbeg right away." I bowed to our King before leaving.

As I looked for Ardbeg I saw Sir Nanashi training with the other knights. He has told me that he is a Goddess but he doesn't go by that anymore nonetheless he's still a goddess, and he can't escape it. I also saw a glimpse of Melascula, she's one of the Ten Commandments and she's now serving or more likely being controlled by King Arthur.

"Thomas there you are!!" It's Ardbeg.

"It's yours." I gave him the Goddess Amber. "Lady Merlin will explain everything to you later."

------

I watched as Ardbeg leave with his companion, Cernunnos a beast from the underworld.

"He's such a Hypocrite."

A world for humans and humans alone, he claims that humans would reign supreme and yet he uses powers and relics from other races.

Day by day I get this nasty feeling in my gut. Day by day the more I want to leave this place. Everyone has their stories of how the other races destroyed their lives but I'm different, I never talked about it because I know they wouldn't agree.

My daughter is saved by a Demon, an upper-level demon, one of the Ten Commandments.

I can't recall her face but all I can remember is that she's a muscular woman with short blonde hair similar to my daughter's.

I will always be grateful to her.

I got scared when she approached my daughter but what I saw changed me forever. Her soft smile as she patted my daughter's head gently before she flew away.

We may be different but unity can be achieved. The Seven Deadly Sins are a prime example of this.

------

"I know the consequences of my actions, if I were to be punished, please take care of my daughter for me," I asked the young lad in front of me.

"I can't see a reason why I can't get you two out of here without any suspicion." He smirked.

"I don't understand."

"I'll take care of everything, don't worry."

------

"Sir Thomas, I'm glad to finally meet you in person, you've been very helpful." The King of Liones greeted me with a playful smile.

------

"The location of one of the knights is set, prepare to eliminate this monster that will destroy the world."

"Sir Thomas, I heard your daughter went out of the castle walls." A guard said.

"Yes, she wants to explore and have an adventure, she's skilled and smart, I taught her well. I'm not worried, besides she's accompanied by someone I trust." Thomas said.

------

"Sir Thomas was killed in battle, we suspect they're one of the four knights but the descriptions don't match him at all!!!"

"His sacrifice shall not be in vain we'll eliminate them, and stop the prophecy from happening!!!"

------

"I'm back~"

"What did you do?" I asked.

"Let's just say that Sir Thomas of Camelot is no more." The young lad smirked.

"You faked my death, how is that possible?"

"With the help of my siblings." He cackled.

"Will they ever find out the truth?"

"Eventually, but when that day comes, I assure your safety here in Liones." He smiled.

"I don't see why they claim that the four knights will destroy the world." I looked over at him.

"Maybe because they can. They're not the only ones that Camelot should worry about either.

"Thank you, for everything, Sir Galehaut."

"Skip the formalities, I hate it." Galehaut chuckled.

"But you're a prince, Prince of the Fairies and Giants to be specific." I raised a brow.

"So?" Galehaut retorted and we both laughed afterward.

[haos-the-tea]

Title: Better Than You Pairing: Mingyu x Fem!Reader x Wonwoo Rating: 18+ Warnings: Language, angst, low self image, sub boy, oral (male and female receiving), Face riding, Sexual praise, Degradation, Choking (male receiving), Over stimulation (male receiving), Voyeurism, Pegging, Edging, Light bondage. WC: 9.3K+

A/N: so this started out as just a means to write hate smut for Mingyu and then evolved into this. IDK how that happened. I also didn’t bother to edit this, so enjoy this first draft nonsense lol.

You didn’t hate your job. You really didn’t. Or, at least that was what you kept telling yourself so that you could get through this hell of a shift. Saturdays were always the absolute worst, the restaurant was crowded and it was always so loud, and orders came out almost as soon as you picked up the previous ones. It was hectic, but it was even worse when you were understaffed. 

“Thank you so much, that order will be out in just a few minutes.” You said, fake smile plastered onto your face as you bid farewell to a table that wasn’t a part of your section. Stalking through the restaurant your smile dropping as you did so, you found the cause of your troubles standing in the kitchen, chatting it up with one of the chefs while the chef worked.

“Kim Mingyu!” You exclaimed, using the noise of the kitchen to cover your shout. He turned to face you and you could see his eyes rolling when he realized just who was calling him.

It was an unspoken fact that you and Mingyu...did not get along. You boss generally made sure to try and schedule the two of you on different days, but that was getting harder and harder

when people kept asking for days off. Which is...fine, you just really hate working with Mingyu. Judging by the look on his face, the feeling was mutual.

“Dude, I just had to take A5’s order because they’d been in your section for twenty minutes and all you’d done was get them drinks! What the hell, man!” You complained, glaring up at the abnormally tall server. He simply rolled his eyes, glancing back over at the chef and bidding him farewell before brushing past you and making sure that he bumped your shoulder as he did.

“Lay off it, you’re not even a manager yet you’re so high strung. Just chill out, it’s not like they’re going to die if I don’t get them soon.” His response was typical, and honestly you were starting to wonder how he still had a job with how much he slacked off.

Turning on your heel you followed him as he made his way into the empty breakroom in an attempt to get away from your lecture.

“I’d be ‘chill’ if I didn’t always have to cover both my section and your section when we worked together. Why can’t you just do your fucking job?” You complained, eyes boring holes into the back of his head as he pulled his phone out of his locker. Mindlessly scrolling it for a moment, before he turned to look back at you with a shit eating grin on his face.

“Order up!” Could be heard in the distance, over the sound of your pounding heart.

“Well, I guess you better go grab that if you’re working both of our jobs.” Before turning back to his phone and laughing at something on the handheld device.

God you hope that you could keep from throttling the man, because you knew for a fact that you didn’t have bail money.

The night continued with Mingyu doing a minimal amount of his tasks, the only thing you were grateful for was that he at least wrapped his own silverware. You probably would have stabbed him with one of the unwrapped forks if he hadn’t. With a farewell to the rest of the staff and a harsh glare sent in Mingyu’s direction, you were finally able to leave around 12am.

During the drive home, all of the adrenaline from the shift seemed to fade away and leave you as an exhausted husk of a person. Your eyes threatened to drift shut even as you drove, forcing you to roll down your windows to scream sing out whatever song was playing from your phone in an attempt to keep awake. You just wanted this day to be over so you could enjoy your day off tomorrow and catch up on your school work, and so you didn’t have to see Kim Mingyu’s infuriating face.

He probably got away with so much shit just because he was tall and handsome, beautiful features seemed to get so many doors opened for people. Meanwhile, average people like yourself seemed to be overlooked and ignored, having to work twice as hard for something handed to those types of people on silver platters. It was probably the only reason Mingyu still had a job, considering your boss fancied him. It was pathetic how much she fawned over him, and he seemed to just soak up all the praise and attention. Your grip on the steering wheel tightened, knuckles going white as you thought about the situation.

The tension sat with you until you unlocked the door to your apartment and smelt the wonderful aroma that told you that your roommate had waited up for you. Slipping your shoes off and placing your keys on their hanger, you made your way into the small kitchen.

“Nunu!” You exclaimed as your eyes landed on the male. His thick brown hair was sticking up in all different directions, which told you he had gotten a good nap in before you came home but that he had woken up to make dinner. He pushed up his thick rimmed glasses as he glanced over at you, a small tired smile on his face.

“Welcome home.” he muttered before returning his gaze back to the food he had just plated, picking them up and dropping them off at the table before looking back over at you. “Go change and come eat.”

You gave him a mock salute before doing as instructed. Swapping your work pants and polo shirt for some sleep shorts and a tank top, it had a tendency to get rather hot in your apartment at night even if you had the AC on. When you returned to the kitchen, Wonwoo seemed a bit more awake than before and was scrolling through some website on his phone as he ate. You quickly joined, scarfing down your food.

“How was work?”

With that single question, your expression dropped mid bite. All the irritation flooding back into your system causing you to aggressively stab the next bit of food that you were wanting to eat before beginning your rant.

“So you know that dick bag at work?”

“The really tall hot one?”

“Yeah, that jackass.” You went into extreme detail about the night, fury filling your voice as you spoke.

“Can you believe him!?” You exclaimed, shoveling the last bit off your dinner into your mouth as you heard Wonwoo sigh. He always told you that you needed to quit if this guy was as bad as you said he was and none of the higher ups would do anything about it.

“Sorry Nunu, Didn’t mean to yell...Fuck, how was your day dude?” You stood, taking your plate over to the sink and setting it down. You’d get to those tomorrow, you were too tired to do them tonight.

“Eh, not much different than normal.” He muttered, joining you at the sink. There was a brief pause before he turned to you. “My...my boyfriend is going to come visit tomorrow. He said he wants to meet you, and I mean you’re my best friend so…”

“Oh! Really? Ah, I’ll make dinner tomorrow night then so that you guys can hang out beforehand!” Wonwoo seemed to be appreciative of it as he wrapped his arms around your waist to pull you into a tight hug. The affection caused your heart to soar, wrapping your arms around his neck as he rested his head on your shoulder “I’ll even clean up around the apartment while you’re at work.”

You felt your breath hitch in your throat as his hands lowered to firmly grip your ass. So that was how tonight was going to be. You knew that he had told his (currently unnamed) boyfriend about your little...sexcapades, and apparently the guy didn’t mind. It wasn’t like you and Wonwoo had legit feelings for each other...or at least, Wonwoo didn’t have feelings for you. Your feelings were still up in the air, but you would never tell him that.

“You sure your man is still okay with us doing...this?” You questioned, one hand slipped into his soft brown tresses as you whispered into his ear. Gently nibbling on the lobe of his ear. His response was simply to hike one of your legs up around his waist, bucking his hips forward into your heat. The action caused a soft moan to slip out of your lips, after the stress of today you wouldn’t mind having a round of fun. But Wonwoo seemed to need a reminder of the rules.

“Nunu, baby. I need you to use your words.” You instructed, gently stroking his hair as he gave your thigh a firm squeeze. When the two of you first hooked up like this, you would have never expected any kind of submissive side to him and yet looks could be deceiving. He let out a soft groan at the pet name before listening to your instructions.

“He...he thinks it’s fine.” He muttered into the shell of your neck, nipping lightly as he spoke. “It’s why he wants to meet you.” If you were being honest, you were a little more than surprised at that. You figured that your roommates boyfriend would be less than excited to meet someone who has been fucking their significat other with no strings attached for...multiple years.

“Oh he does? Is he just as dirty as you?” As you spoke, your free hand slid down to his pants to the prominent bulge that was hidden underneath the thin grey sweatpants. You would probably never get over just how large Wonwoo was, it was almost ridiculous. “Does he like that you get fucked by me? Or do you tell him that you’re in charge?”

Your grip had Wonwoo groaning before biting into the flesh of your neck, causing you to let out a loud moan at the sensation. As he let go, you pulled yourself away letting both of your feet return to the floor before turning the tables. You pushed Wonwoo back against the counter top, cornering him. One of your legs rested between his own, and you lifted that leg to press against the growing problem in his pants.

“Answer me Wonwoo.”

“No, he knows you’re in charge.” He told, squirming to try and get a bit more friction to his aching cock. You always liked making him needy, it was such a stark contrast to his normal day to day attitude. So seeing him like this was intoxicating for you.

Since he answered you so honestly, you decided to give him a bit more. Slowly, you pushed his sweatpants down his legs, your fingers gently clawing at the skin of his thighs as you did so. Once those were out of the way, you were pleasantly surprised to find that he had decided to forgo his usual boxers this evening. Leaving his thick cock on display for you.

“Oh, Nunu were you planning this?” You knelt down on the kitchen floor, leaning forward to give a small teasing kiss to the tip of his massive dick. “Did you make dinner for me, just so I’d fuck you against the countertops, while we talk about your boyfriend?”

You couldn’t stop yourself from taking the tip in your mouth, gently sucking on the tender skin as your tongue lapped up the drips of pre-cum from him. Your eyes never leaving his face as you worked, watching as he threw his head back and groaned. His hands gripped the counter’s edge so harshly his knuckles seemed to be turning white.

“Y-yeah,” he breathed out, the sound of it all so sickeningly seductive. “I did. I wanted...fuck I wanted it so bad.” he groaned out, bucking his hips up in an attempt to get you to take more of him. You gripped his hip firmly, pushing them back against the counter and successfully thwarting his attempts. The confession had you clenching around nothing as you pulled away from his dick with a loud pop.

“Oh Nunu, baby Nunu. You know all you have to do is ask. I’m always willing to make time for my good little boy.” Only he wasn’t yours, he had a boyfriend. You were just someone he got fucked by on the side, or well...who fucked him on the side. Despite the melancholy that thought brought to you, you kept up your role and gave a teasing lick to his length. “Does he ever take control, or is my poor little Nunu always domming when he just wants to be dicked down?”

The question along with the actions from your tongue had the male letting out small whimpers, his eyes squeezed shut as you took him into your mouth once more. Once again his hips thrashed forward, only being stopped by your hands as you grip him tightly.

You had been told previously all about Wonwoo’s sexual relations with his boyfriend, another thing that this mysterious man seemed to have no issue with. Once Wonwoo even confessed this boyfriend of his found it ‘hot’ that Wonwoo would tell you, which made you question just who your best friend was dating and how open this relationship would continue being.

“He doesn’t. Fuck fuck, i want it. Just like yo-you...just like you give it to me.” One thing you loved about Wonwoo was that his  moans were never loud, but beathy and that was an entirely different type of sexy. As a reward for his honesty you continued your mistrations on his firm length, taking him further into your mouth and pumping what couldn’t fit with your hand.

“No, no fuck. I’ll..cum, I want inside.” His words slurred together and barely made sense as he spoke but you knew exactly what he wanted. So you pulled yourself off of his delicious dick, and despite that being what he asked for he still let out a soft yet insanely deep whine. Missing the contact despite knowing exactly what he wanted.

You quickly slipped your sleep shorts from your frame, letting them drop to the floor. Wonwoo’s eyes watched you hungrily, waiting for you to follow through with his request only for you to flash a devilish grin at him.

“Catch.” Was all the warning he got, but the two of you had played this game before and he knew exactly what to do. Your feet were soon off the ground and wrapped around his waist, the tip of his cock prodding your entrance as he held you up. With practiced ease he turned and let your ass rest on the cold clean countertops, causing your frame to shiver at the temperature difference.

You trust your hips forward, rubbing his length against your folds and letting out a groan as you did so. He curled into you, waiting for permission. Soft pleading words slipped from his lips as he begged to be let in. Being just as needy, you decided to give in.

“Nunu, I want you to fuck me good okay?” Your voice was light and playful as your nails sunk into the skin of his back, prompting another low breathy groan from the male. “I want your boyfriend to be able to tell how good you fucke me, can you do that for me, baby boy?” He nodded against your shoulder as you gave him the final go ahead.

It was almost painful how slowly he entered you, filling you up completely while taking the most grueling pace ever. You knew what this was, his own little way of teasing you back. Sure Wonwoo enjoyed subbing and he was a very obedient sub but he was still a switch and things like this were how he made sure you knew that despite the position he took in your ‘relationship’.

“Fuck shit.” You groaned, throwing your head back and clenching around him as he bottomed out inside you. Despite how many time the two of you had sex, it always felt like the first time. You always felt impossibly full, and add him moaning in your ear into the mix and you swore you could come undone just from that. He started at an agonizingly slow pace, making sure to pull himself almost completely out of your before slamming back in. The feeling rocking you to your very core, gripping his shoulders tightly.

“God Nunu, you feel so fucking good.” You moaned out, “You fill me up so well baby, it’s like your dick was made for me.” Hearing your words seemed to spur him into a faster pace. His hands gripping your hips tightly as he slammed into you, there would surely be bruises there come tomorrow. You were once again finding another reason to be grateful that you were off work tomorrow.

“Fuck, your so tight.” He groaned, the husky low tones doing wonders to you. “Won’t last.” Was all he could bring out as his thrust grew more messy, less coordinated as he struggled to reach his high. One of his hands left your hips and found its way to your clit, gently massaging the small bundle of nerves as he continued his deep thrusts. It seemed like that was all you needed to be thrown off the edge

“Ah, fuck fuck, cum for me Wonwoo.”

And cum he did. You felt so full with just him, not bothering to worry about any kind of protection since you were on the pill. Your heart pounding a mile a minute as you leaned forward, resting your head on his shoulders. Three little words lingers on your lips, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say them. They weren’t your words to say...he wasn’t yours and he never would be.

***

Needless to say you were walking with a small limp the next day as you cleaned up around the house. Making sure to sanitize the kitchen countertops after your little...encounter there last night. Loud music blared through the apartment, you singing loudly along to the shitty songs about unrequited love. It was pathetic but at least it was a way to get the emotions out.

You had a few more hours before Wonwoo would be off work, and he boyfriend probably wouldn’t come over until after that so you weren’t all too concerned with your appearance at the moment, you’d probably wear something presentable and chit chat with the two for a bit before escaping to Joshua’s house. He knew about your stupid feelings and was willing to let you make an escape whenever you needed, he was a damn good friend.

To your surprise, a knock sounded through the apartment causing you to jump in shock. Grabbing your phone, you paused your music before returning the item to the kitchen table where it had been sitting. Grabbing the metal bat from beside the door, the two of you kept it there just in case of an intruder) you gripped the handle of the item before slowly pulling the door open. The sight that greeted you caused a rage to pool inside of your gut.

“Kim Mingyu, what the fuck are you doing at my apartment?” You seethed, glaring up at the male. A part of you was debating on just slamming the door back into his face, that would be pretty damn satisfying. Despite your irritation, he looked just as surprised as you felt.

“I’m here to visit my boyfriend and his roommate. But if you’re here, I must have the wrong place.” His words seemed to push everything into place and you were going to be sick. With how much Wonwoo had spoken about his boyfriend, he never mentioned the guy’s name...and the same went for you, you complained about your coworker on an almost daily basis but never mentioned that it was Kim Mingyu.

“Wonwoo? You’re here to see Wonwoo?” The words left your lips shakily, and you felt a rock sink into your gut. You prayed to whatever God was listening that he would deny it, say some other name, that he literally did get the wrong address and Wonwoo’s boyfriend wasn’t going to be your arch nemesis.

He nodded, he fucking nodded and it felt like everything was crashing around you. Not only was Kim Mingyu a hassle at work, but now you were finding out that he was dating the guy you were in love with. It was all too much.

“Well, you’re early. He doesn’t get off work until 6.” You muttered, opening the door to let him in despite the urge to leave him stranded outside until Wonwoo got home. You heard the door shut behind you, but couldn’t bring yourself to look back at him. Thinking about all the things Wonwoo had told you about the mysterious boyfriend, it was too much. Mingyu knew far too much about you now. Fuck now you would have to quit, there is no way he would keep that information secret now that he knew it was you fucking his boyfriend.

“Oh, I know. He said his roommate was going to make dinner, so I wanted to come over to help.” You flashed him a disgruntled look as he explained his reasoning for coming over so early. A sharp comment on the tip of your tongue as he slipped his shoes off and entered your abode as if it were his own. “Though, if I had known you were his roommate I probably would have stayed home.”

There it was, that smug smirk that you wanted to punch off of his face. A fire grew in your stomach and you stormed into the kitchen, determined to start and finish dinner as soon as possible. You weren’t going to stay here tonight, hoping Joshua wouldn’t mind you coming over earlier than expected.

“Well, lucky for you. I don’t need help, so you can just stand around and do nothing. You’re already pretty good at that.” Hearing the sound of his footsteps behind as you entered the kitchen, the small chuckle coming after it. Almost like he was mocking you, like he knew about your hidden feelings for Wonwoo, like he knew this was possibly the worst outcome for your evening. At this point, you just wanted to know why he seemed to enjoy pushing your buttons.

You swung open the door to the fridge and bent down to begin pulling out the items you would need to start the meal. You could feel his eyes on you as you traveling around the kitchen, pulling out bowls and spices, and it was infuriating.

“You know, you’re pretty hot when you’re angry,” His words caused you to practically choke on your own breath. “I wonder if that’s what gets Wonwoo off when you two fuck.” It was almost like he punched you in the gut. Of course, you knew that he knew but you definitely weren’t expecting him to just outright bring it up. Though you should have expected something as blunt as that from Kim Fucking Mingyu.

You placed the box of salt on the counter before turning to glare at Mingyu once more, only to find him almost directly behind you...much closer than he had been. Your mind flashed back to the night before, where you fucked Wonwoo in this very room, and now you were standing here talking to his boyfriend. You took a deep breath, swallowing your hesitation before continuing with your thought.

“Look, Wonwoo said you were cool with it. If it’s a problem then it stops, simple as that. I may hate your fucking guts but I’m not gonna keep fucking your boyfriend better than you do without your okay.”

That was...definitely the wrong thing to say but your anger got the better of you, your jealousy. It was a monster that was now fueling the previous wrath you had felt for the male. Before you could think about anything else to say, you felt yourself being forced back against the counter with his hands laying flat on either side of you, caging you in as he stared down with a dark look in his eye.

“See, I don’t think you do. I think you’re just a cocky, high strung, know-it-all who thinks she’s better than everyone else.” He muttered, his voice lowering into a range you had never heard before from the male. It sent a heat straight to your core, a heat you usually only felt around Wonwoo, this seemed to only fuel your anger. You quickly pushed your hands to his, rather firm, chest and shoved him backwards, hard enough to get him away from you but not hard enough to accidentally hurt him.

“And I think you’re a lazy jackass who hasn’t had to work a day in his life just because his perfect good looks have gotten him everything he could ever want.” You retorted, voice coming out almost as a growl. If a look could kill someone then Mingyu would have instantly caught fire from the heat of your gaze. Despite your anger, he still carried that smug grin on his face.

“Awe, you think I’m pretty? I mean, you’re right but it’s always nice to hear.”

“Fuck, you’re insuferable! Just shut up and leave me alone, so I can finish making this fucking dinner and then leave.” With that you turned back to the counter, furiously beginning your task as you tried to ignore the man who was currently plaguing your day.

“Make me.” Those two little words, you weren’t sure why but those two simple words seemed to throw your entire world into disarray. It was like a switch was flipped and you couldn’t stop the urge growing inside you, the urge to break him. You wanted him practically crying and begging for you, but...you couldn’t do that. Despite how much you hated him, this was still Wonwoo’s boyfriend and while he was okay with Wonwoo fooling around with you...you weren’t sure how Wonwoo would feel if you decided to humiliate his boyfriend. You gripped the bowl in front of you, trying your best to take a deep breath and stop yourself from doing the terrible things you were thinking of.

“Didn’t you hear me? I said make me. I thought that was like a trigger phrase for dom’s?” So he knew what he was doing, he knew it and was still being an ass. The switch broke, and all you could see was red. You turned back to face him, glowering up at him and your face flushed with an angry heat.

“What the hell are you trying to pull Kim Mingyu?” Your accusatory tone was harsh, even harsher than the tones you used at work. In fact, the only time you had really spoken like this to anyone was the one time Wonwoo had attempted to be a brat. You watched as a small shiver went up his spine, his eyes never leaving yours. His shit eating grin seemed to only grow as you took harsh steps towards him, causing him to back up until he was stopped by a wall. His back pressed firmly against it, but you refused to lift your arms and cage him in.

“Well, what if I told you I didn’t come over to help with dinner prep.”

“Color me surprised.” He ignored your sarcasm and continued.

“What if I said that Wonwoo wanted me to come here early, cause he wanted me to see how good he got it with you?” It almost seemed like he was determined to give you a heart attack today, there was no way Wonwoo would have said something like that. Right? As if he could sense the hesitation to believe his words, reached up and gently cupped your cheek with his.

“Or maybe, you’d rather I take control today?” Once again it seemed like he knew exactly how to push your buttons to rekindle the rage in your gut all over again. You reached up and gripped his wrist, yanking his hand away from you. Your earlier fervor returning, as you tightly clenched his wrist. The grip tight enough to show him just who was in charge here, but not tight enough to actually hurt him.

“Bad boys don’t get to be in control.”

“Bad Boy? Is that what we’re going with?”

“It’s better than me calling you a jackass. Which is the name i’d prefer to call you.”

Everything felt like a blur, soon you were pulling him towards you by his collar and slamming your lips onto his own. It was nothing like your kisses with Wonwoo which were full of passion, you filled this with as much anger as you could. You wanted him to feel your anger, your pain, you deserved that much if all you were going to be is a cock sleeve. A dom to get tossed back and forth between the couple. You weren’t sure if that was what Wonwoo was intending but, a part of you felt worthless in any aspect except sex so you might as well use what you’ve got.

Not bothering to break the heated kiss, full of teeth and tongue, you navigated Mingyu into the living room. Only then did you pull away, nipping at his bottom lip with your teeth as you did. He quickly went to bring his lips back to your own, but you decided to not let him get that pleasure and shoved him back onto the couch, his shirt riding up ever so slightly as he fell back onto the sofa that was much too small for him, let alone two people.

“We have rules here Mingyu, I know you have trouble following them at work but try not to be too much of a whore and break my rules. Got it?” He rolled his eyes as you began explaining, as if he were already planning on disobeying your very simple rules. “First is, we go by the color system. Got it?” He nodded. “The second is, you don’t cum until I tell you to.”

You might hate the male below you, but you weren’t going to do things he wasn’t comfortable with. You weren’t a terrible person, just an angry one. Despite these gratuitous warnings, Mingyu still seemed irritatingly smug.

“Wow, pretty weak rules. I doubt you could make me cum even if you tried.”

You were going to make him eat those words.

Which was probably why he was currently a groaning mess on your couch, hands bound behind his back and his jeans long discarded. In your hand was a small vibrator that you were just lightly pressing against his hard cock. He wasn’t as large as Wonwoo, width wise and was a bit shorter than him but it was still pretty impressive. You would never tell him that though.

He looked a mess, almost as if he was just about to hit his high. So you removed the toy, and listened to those beautiful whines escape his lips. He was in for a long ride if he thought this was the worst you were going to do to him.

“Awe, is the little whore upset I took his toy away?” Your tone mocking as you turned off the vibrator, waiting for his response to see just what you would do next. He seemed to be expecting something like this and grinned despite his heavy breathing.

“You’re little games aren’t doing shit. I think you’re just too scared to fuck me yourself.” Without hesitation you returned the vibrator to his dick, turning it onto its highest setting just so you could watch him squirm. He let out a loud gasp, throwing his head back against the couch cushions, his back arching off of the couch as he let out a sinful moan. Then it was over, you were once again pulling the toy away from him once again, giving a teasing lick to the silicone as he glared at you through hooded eyes. His breath coming out in small pants as he lost that high once more.

With a smug smirk of your own, you leaned forward your lips stopping right next to his ear. One of your hands reached down to slowly stroke his twitching member, you could practically feel how close he was.

“Oh I’m not scared, I just don’t want your trash dick inside me.” Much to your surprise you felt him tremble beneath you. So he liked being talked down to? That was good to know, you would definitely be using that to your advantage. It was a stark contrast from Wonwoo who lived for praise, you honestly thought Mingyu would be the same way.

“What makes you think I’d want your dick when I can fuck your boyfriend whenever I want? His massive cock fills me up so well, almost like he was made for me.” Your words were but a sinful whisper in his ear. Your teeth gently nipping at the lobe of his ear, pulling slightly as you spoke. The words plus your hand against his dick brought out another groan, almost like you had struck a match inside him. Before you could stop him, he pushed himself forward and sunk his teeth into the crook of your neck and you were almost certain that it was almost harsh enough to break the skin. A surprised yelp left your lips, mixing into a long moan at the feeling. Without even thinking about it, your grip on his dick tightened which seemed to be the exact reaction he was hoping for. The feeling pulling him over the edge as he released into your hand with a low guttural moan.

You pulled yourself away, staring at your jizz covered hand in feigned disgust.

“One simple rule, and you couldn’t even follow it. Wonwoo was right when he said you were fucking filthy.” You chastised, wiping your hand off on his naked thigh not giving him the pleasure of seeing you lick it off of your own skin. He hadn’t earned that.

“What’re you gonna do about it? Punish me?” The words left his lips just as your hand moved to wrap around his neck, squeezing the side lightly as to give him the choking sensation without actually putting him in potential danger.

“Whore, what’s your color?”

“Fuck, fuck green. So green, fuck.” Taking that response, you quickly tighten your grip which was followed by another strangled groan. You weren’t about to admit it, but he looked really hot like this. Underneath you, completely spent while still seeming to be gearing up for another round.

“Well then you better get comfortable, brat. Because you’ve really pissed me off now.” With every word your grip tightened just a bit more before you pulled away, ending the sentence. You turned your back to him for a moment, shoving off everything that had previously been on your coffee table before taking a seat on top of it, right in perfect view of Mingyu.

“If you even want me to think about putting your filthy dick inside of me, then you better not move. Got that?” You didn’t wait for his response as you pulled your shirt over your head, and quickly unclipped your bra, tossing both of the garments to the other side of the living room to be forgotten about. Without hesitation you began fondling your chest, tweaking your rapidly hardening nipples. Your eyes never left Mingyu, making sure he was paying attention and keeping still. A quick glance down at his lap and you could see his cock slowly starting to harden once more at the sight before him. His tongue slipped out of his mouth to lick his lips, eyes not leaving your chest as you fondled yourself.

While one hand continued to fondle your breasts, your other slid down to tease the waste of your shorts.

“Tell me what you want you little whore, maybe I’ll give it to you if you ask nicely enough.” In truth, you had no intention of giving him anything just yet but dangling his wants in front of his face would be so sweet a punishment. One he deserved for breaking your rules.

“Let me fuck you, I know you want it too. I’ve seen how you keep watching my cock, almost drooling aren’t you baby girl.” Instantly at his words, you stopped touching yourself and stood from the table. Without a word you made your way out of the living room and down the hallway, ignoring as he called out to you. To your surprise though, he was still in the same spot on the couch when you returned with what you had got to grab. A soft silk tie, black in color and well used.

You grabbed the previously discarded vibrator and returned it to its former position pressed against his cock and used the tie to keep it held there without the need for your hands before you turned it onto the lowest setting possible. Still sweet but enough to drive him crazy. Then you proceeded to push him back down into a lying position before stripping yourself of your shorts and underwear, tossing them into the ever growing pile of clothing.

“If you’re going to keep talking back, I might as well put your disgusting mouth to good use.” You said, swinging your leg over him so that you were now straddling his face. Your dripping pussy resting just above his face. “Get to work, bitch.”

He groaned out, loving the treatment you were giving him before he latched his lips to your wet sex, tongue lapping up whatever liquid he could as if this were his last meal. It was honestly really fucking sexy. You couldn’t stop yourself from letting out a soft breathy moan, which only seemed to encourage the male below you.

As another mewl left your lips you heard the sound of the front door being opened, and the distinct voice of Wonwoo calling out that he was home. Your heart almost stopped, you weren’t sure if you were excited for Wonwoo to discover the two of you or terrified. Mingyu didn’t seem bothered by it, not even really acknowledging his boyfriend’s voice as he continued to devour your pussy. His tongue gave a particularly pleasing swipe just as Wonwoo entered the living room.

Your eyes met his brown ones and you could practically see the gears turning in his head as he saw the compromising position the two of you were in. For a moment, you were concerned that Mingyu had lied and that Wonwoo would be upset. The relief that filled your body as he quickly closed the distance, leaning over the couch and pulling you into a deep kiss. If it was possible the kiss was almost better than the attacks to your lower region, if only because it was from Wonwoo. When he pulled away he let his forehead press against your own.

“I see you guys couldn’t be bothered to wait for me…” He didn’t sound upset at all though, almost as if he were hoping to catch the two of you in the act. You reached up and took a handful of his beautiful brown tresses into your grip, pulling ever so slightly as you ground your pelvis against Mingyu’s face.

“This little whore needed to be taught a lesson, Nunu. You’re boyfriend’s such a disgusting boy, so selfish.” Your words could barely come out as you felt your high coming closer and closer. Mingyu was in fact, pretty damn good with his mouth. You weren’t about to come undone yet though, so you released Wonwoo from your grip and pushed Mingyu’s head away from you. The action was met with a pitiful whine from the infuriating male.

“Oh shut up, you don’t deserve to make me cum. You’ve been nothing but a whiney, needy bitch. Like a dog in heat.” You watched him tremble as your words went straight to his dick, the vibrations from the toy doing just enough to keep him needy but not enough to get him too close to cumming again.

“You like that, being a little dog? Fucking sick, this little dog just wants a hole to fuck.” You reached down and gripped his cheeks in your hand, pushing your face just close enough for you to bite his lip before pulling away.

Your attention turned fully to Wonwoo, a small grin on his face.

“Nunu, can you show this dirty dog how to be a good boy?” A request the male was all too quick to comply with. At your instructions he stripped down under the watchful eyes of both yourself and Mingyu.

“Now i want you to sit on the table, right here. Don’t touch yourself until I get back.” You ordered, and Wonwoo nodded. As obedient as always. You glanced back at Mingyu, arms still tied behind his back, dick looking almost painfully hard and your slick covering his lips. Letting out a small chuckle before leaving the living room once more only this time on much shakier legs.

As you dug through your toybox you could hear the distinct voice of Mingyu.

“Come one Wonwoo, you should touch yourself. Don’t you wanna make her mad?” He was trying to sound in control but you could tell the over stimulation was getting to him. His words were pitchy, and he seemed to be trying to catch his breath as he egged on his boyfriend. Oh he was going to regret that.

“Not really,” Was Wonwoo’s reply. “She’ll keep you on edge for hours if you keep this up, Gyu.” The male scoffed, only his scoff came out more as a moan than anything else. You couldn’t see what he was doing but you could hear the distinct sound of the creaking couch to give away that he was in fact moving despite your instructions. Another strike.

“S-She...she’s not so tough.” Left his lips as you returned to the room, strap on in one hand and a bottle of lube in the other. You could see Wonwoo’s eyes light up as he recognized the item, which just so happened to be his favorite of the strap ons that you owned. Keeping yourself behind the couch so that you obscured Mingyu’s vision of you until you had the extension snuggly strapped onto yourself.

Being the good boy he was, Wonwoo scooted himself to the edge of the table and leaned back on his hands as he waited for you. You stopped just in front of him, squeezing a nice amount of lube into your open palm and began coating the strap on, stroking the silicone toy as Wonwoo and Mingyu hungrily watched.

“Color?”

You question was followed by both men giving green, giving you the go ahead to continue. Kneeling forward, you pushed Wonwoo’s legs apart and he was more than willing to let you. His hand stayed pressed firmly against the hardwood of the coffee table, his fingers twitching slightly as he did his best to not touch himself or you until he got the go ahead. The order never came though, this was about putting on a show for Mingyu and that’s exactly what you were going to do.

You slowly prodded a lube covered finger at his ass, teasing the hole a bit before entering to begin preparing him for the much larger dildo. Once again the apartment was filled with your favorite sounds, his low breathy moans. Only this time they were accompanied by the almost whining coming from Mingyu as he lay helpless on the couch.

“See Mingyu? This is what good little boys get. Isn’t that right Nunu?” Your question was followed by a few soft teasing nips at his thigh, and another finger entering his tight hole. His moans were breathtaking to listen to, it filled you with confidence that you couldn’t describe. Your own core was practically throbbing, you had no idea you would enjoy being watched like this.

Your other hand reached up, taking Wonwoo’s massive cock and slowly pumping it just as you had done to Mingyu’s before this. The whimpers that left his lips as Mingyu squirming from his spot on the couch, desperate to be touched by something more than the vibrator that was still lightly buzzing. After a few more pumps of your hand, you removed the fingers and positioned yourself in front of the entrance.

“God, yes please please fuck me.” Wonwoo was practically begging at this point.

“Anything for my good boy.” Slowly, you pushed your hips forward to sink the thick black silicone dick inside of Wonwoo’s ass. You took a second to let him get adjusted, and to just watch him whimper below you, his back arching and his eyes screwed shut as he begged for you to move.  Which you gladly complied with.

“You’re always so good for me Nunu, my perfect boy.” You praised as you thrust into his ass, taking quick thrust just the way he liked it. Pulling out almost completely before harshly snapping your hips forward, making sure to stroke his cock in time with your trusts. The actions had him a mess below you and you could practically see Mingyu drooling as he watched the two of you.

“Mingyu, if you want this. Then I want you to rut against the couch. You better cum without me touching you or you won’t be getting anything else tonight.” It was almost instantaneous how quickly he moved, flipping over onto his stomach as he began needily humping at your couch, his eyes never leaving the scenario in front of him though as he used it to try and bring himself his much needed second release of the night.

The air felt hot and humid as the moans of the two males filled the apartment, and fuck it was hot. You weren’t even being properly touched and you were still feeling close. The feeling only growing as Wonwoo shivered below you.

“Please, please miss. F-fuck, pleae let me cum.” He whimpered, his eyes glancing over at Mingyu. Watching his boyfriend rutting against the couch like a dog in heat. For a moment you were brought out of the mood, remembering that you were just a third you had no part of the actual relationship that the two men had. Shaking your head, you quickly pulled yourself back, that was a problem for future you. Right now your only concern was making sure these men were properly fucked out.

“Go ahead, cum for me baby. Cum while your boyfriend watches me fuck you.” That was all he needed, you felt his dick twitch in your hand before thick strings of white cum left him. You continued your mistrations making sure to milk his orgasm for all it was worth. Your eyes drifted over to Mingyu, who seemed to be having a bit of trouble getting to that high once again and he looked down right pitiful.

After Wonwo had successfully come back to you, you pulled yourself from him as you decided to give Mingyu a little help. Sure you still hated him, but it would be cruel to not finish him off now.

“Stop and sit up.” You ordered, and surprisingly the male responded just as Wonwoo had, with obedience. You unlaced the tie and pulled the unsatisfying vibrator away from his cock, listening to more loud whiny moans leave his lips.

“Don’t expect me to be this nice again, you filthy dog. I have standards.” You muttered, before lowering your lips to his throbbing dick. You could hear Wonwoo’s breathy moans from behind you as he watched you suck off his boyfriend. Hollowing your cheeks and teasing his tip with your tongue seemed to be just enough to push Mingyu over the edge and you felt his thick hot release enter your mouth. Not wanting to make a mess, you just swallowed the salty liquid before pulling away and wiping your lips. His loud moans causing your core to ache in need. Which was another thing you would never admit out loud, his moans were just as delicious as Wonwoo’s.

“See? Was being good so hard?” You questioned, pulling your mouth off of his softening member. Sure you were left still needy but you could take care of that in the shower, your job here was done. They got what they wanted out of you and you’d see yourself out.

You went to stand once more, muttering something about going to take a shower and clean up when you felt a familiar pair of arms wrap around you from behind. Wonwoo carefully began unstrapping the accessory from your pelvis, letting it fall to the floor between you and Mingyu with a soft thud. Followed by his lips pressing small kisses against your neck.

“Gyu, think you can finish her off?” He questioned the fucked out male on the couch in between his feather light kisses. You heard a soft groan escape Mingyu’s lips, almost as if it were a hassle but he reached out and grabbed your thighs to pull you closer to him.

“Nunu, it’s fine.” You tried to protest, but the words stopped dead in your throat as Mingyu’s tongue began to work you once again. A small curse leaving your lips as your hand found its way into Mingyu’s hair, causing him to chuckle slightly before his lips latched against your clit, his tongue working furiously to tease the nub.

“You really think we’re just going to let you leave after that?” Wonwoo questioned, his tone reminding you of the times he would switch. Taking control of your little scenarios and it had you letting out another embarrassingly loud groan. “You’re not leaving here until you cum.”

And cum you did.

A few hours later, after some showers, the three of you were gathered around the kitchen table with a small slew of pizza boxes since none of you had the actual energy to make dinner. It wasn’t awkward per se, but you certainly felt awkward. The two were casually chatting with each other as if what transpired in the living room hadn’t happened. You picked at the pepperoni on the slice in front of you. Sure you were hungry but couldn’t bring yourself to really eat more than a few bites.

“Hey, make sure to eat. You probably wore yourself out back there,” Mingyu mentioned, causing you to finally look up from your pizza and connect eyes with him. “You’re gonna need the food so you get back that energy.”

Your eyes flickered over to Wonwoo before returning to Mingyu. “I am eating.” You lied, lifting the slice to show him the small bites you had taken. “I don’t need you babying me.”

The sound of Wonwoo muttering your name had your attention on him once again, “You don’t have to be the hard one all the time.” Just like normal, he seemed to see right through you. A sigh escaped your lips as you reluctantly took another bite of the food. After you thoroughly chewed and swallowed the bite you spoke once more.

“I’ll be heading over to Josh’s tonight,” This had both men turning their gaze to you once more. The anxiety from before filled your gut once more, maybe you would even ask Josh if he was needing another roommate. “Give you guys some alone time, ya know?”

“What if...we said we wanted you to stay?” You were caught off guard by Mingyu’s declaration, fixing your nemesis with a harsh questioning gaze. He seemed to find the look amusing, once again returning to your game of cat and mouse. “Is that so bad? It’s not like you’re completely terrible company.”

“I’m not fucking you again.”

Your words had both men letting out their own unique laughs, the sound surprisingly made your heart flutter. Wonwoo’s was to be expected, but Mingyu’s that was new territory. Wonwoo took Mingyu’s hand, gently caressing the top of it with his thumb. You found your gaze lingering on the intimate action, a longing filling your chest and making you sick to your stomach. You didn’t want to just be a third that was kept around for fun times, but how were you supposed to tell them that when all your words seemed to die in your throat.

“We’re not asking for that. We...talked while you were in the shower, we’d like to give this,” Wonwoo gestured to the three of you. “A try.”

“You are aware that I absolutely hate your boyfriend though.” Which wasn’t a total lie, he was still infuriating but now that you were watching him with Wonwoo. You were seeing a side of him that you had originally not believed to exist, a side that wasn’t a complete ass.

“He’s aware, I told him all about our ‘loving’ work relationship.” Mingyu snorted as he spoke, rolling his eyes as he probably imagined how just yesterday had been for the two of you. “And we still want to give it a shot. He and I love each other, but he...also loves you.”

The confession has your heart stopping dead in your chest, eyes quickly moving back over to watch Wonwoo’s face heat up in a pink flush at Mingyu confessing for him.

“It’s the main reason I was cool with the two of you fooling around. I knew I had part of his heart, but so did you. It’s also why I wanted to meet you. It’d be easier on all of us if you and I also shared something, yeah?”

“You’re kidding right? This is all just some massive joke isn’t it? It’s not funny, guys.”  You felt your hands tremble lightly, scared that they would admit to their offer being false. That you’d be left alone and hurt at such a cruel prank. To your surprise though, Wonwoo reached across the table and took your hand in his own. Caressing the skin as he had done with Mingyu’s only moments ago.

“It’s no joke. I love you, and I hope you love me too...and can maybe even come to love Mingyu too.”

For the first time in a long time, your heart was soaring in your chest.

***

“Mingyu, I love you I really fucking do, but that doesn’t mean I’m cool with you making me wait your tables.” You complained, shoving your boyfriend from behind as the two of you entered your apartment after returning from another ridiculously long shift at your mutual job. Mingyu laughed as he slipped out of his shoes so he could make his way into the apartment proper.

“But you still let me do it, just admit it. You’re whipped for me now~”

“Oh, in your dreams, Puppy.” You could tell the nickname hit Mingyu just the right way, by now you knew all the right buttons to press to tease him without even having to touch him. Slipping off your own shoes you followed him into the living room flopping down on the couch as he turned the AC on, muttering something about how hot the stupid apartment was.

Closing your eyes, your rested your head against the back of the couch in an attempt to relax despite still being in your work clothing. It was only for a moment though, as Mingyu moved to straddle your waist.

“Down boy, tonight’s Wonwoo’s night. I don’t have the energy to deal with your ridiculous sex drive right now.” You muttered, but didn’t bother trying to push him off as he leaned forwards to nip at your neck just the way you liked it.  He pouted against the flesh but did as he was told, stopping his ‘assault’ but not bothering to move off of you.

That was how Wonwoo found the two of you when he returned home from work, the both of you fast asleep on the couch without a care in the world. He watched his partners with a soft look in his eye, heart filled with love.

It wasn’t the perfect relationship but it was one he wouldn’t trade for the world.

[fandomscombine]

Exploding Stink Bomb

Platonic!Weasley Twins x Reader

BG: Chaos ensues when the twins steal your latest prank invention. How much worse could it be when innocent people are caught in the mess?

WC:1744

Entry for @feetoffthetable​ 's 500 writing challenge. A week late I know-sorry! Cause I lost the initial draft. (Note: Do NOT trust auto save that much) So I had to rewrite it.

The prompts are taken from Random Prompts List No. 4 and No.11. (Are in bold in the text)

4. “…Are they dead?” “I don’t know! Why don’t you ask them!”

11. “You’re being remarkably calm about this.” “Thanks, it’s the shock. Give me fifteen minutes, the screaming will happen.”

>>>MASTERLIST<<<

Fred Weasley, George Weasley and Y/n L/n, also known as 'The Pranksters Trio' of modern day Hogwarts.

It is the winter of senior year, and your stress levels are increasing by the day. NEWTS are to be held in a couple of months and you have managed to procrastinate completing your mock papers. At this rate, you would get a passing grade but in all honesty you know that wouldn’t cut it, you know your abilities. If you actually put effort in your subjects you can bump a level up.

You've made a deal with your parents that if you had completed your practice papers, you could spend the last week of the Christmas holiday with the Weasleys.

Which you are; 3 days in, 4 days left till school.

'What your parents don't know won't hurt them...' You mumble to yourself as you stir the bubbling green mixture clockwise.

See you haven't finished the potions assignment yet. Your parents thought you did last week, but in reality what you were working on was a little fantastic smelling concoction that could contribute to the twins' upcoming new joke shop merchandise lineup!

During the journey to King’s Cross, Fred had come up to you and asked if you could help brainstorm a new product that would blow people's minds away. Of course you agreed, a multitude of ideas already brewing, you would do anything to help out your friends.

That night, it was all you could think about. Naturally you are itching to get started, before the thought flies away. Pushing your potions textbook aside, you got to work. It took 18 hours of no sleep but it paid off. The product was now in your hands.

A shiny burgundy shimmering marble-like sphere. The final product was smaller than the blueprint- the amount of ingredients you had on hand in your muggle household were limited- you do a mental note on raiding the potions supply closet once back in school for dragon hide.

But when you do finally have all the resources, the sphere should be the size of a baseball.

For now, at 30% of the ideal size, this mini test sphere could stink up a small bedroom. Which is enough to do damage but also has a small enough impact that you fix if anything were to go wrong.

BAM! You knew the quiet was too good to last.

“y/n/n, my dear!” Greeted Fred, waltzing into Ginny’s room.

“Are you--” George placed his hand on the door, stopping it from slamming back to his face. “Oi! Why’d you have to kick the door so hard? You could have ruined my handsome face!” He shouted to his twin.

Dropping your quill back into the ink bottle you sighed. “Nooo, how many times do I have to tell you? I’ll be finished when I’m finished. Most likely tomorrow, the earliest.”

“Why can’t you just let US test it though?” voiced George.

“Because I came up with it and it’s the only one we’ve got!” You reasoned. “I wanna see it when it explodes!”

Right then, the boys’ eyes lit up.

“IT EXPLODES?!?!?” They exclaimed in union.

“SHIT!” It was too late to cover it up. The secret is out.

The twins shared a look, you don’t really believe in twin telepathy but in the case of your 2 best friends and mischief, they almost always are on the same page.

You are sent flying sideways off your chair and hit the air mattress. “Offph! George! Let….me….go!” With all your might, you try to push George off you but to no avail. The muscles built up during quidditch training are to his advantage.

In the other side of the room, Fred is rummaging through your trunk, eagerly looking for the mysterious and highly sought after invention.

Although he may not know what it looks like, Fred is still one of your accomplices in sneaking prank items to school, meaning he and Geroge know all the secret compartments in your trunk. As do you with their trunks.

This setup made sense, it was a precautionary method devised so that in a matter of incoming danger or when suspected of something, the others could easily get rid of any incriminating evidence.

The system is perfect! Well expect now when it backfired on you.

“AHA GOT IT!”

Your face snaps to the direction of the voice. Cursing internally, right there, raised high above Fred’s head is the prized Exploding Stink Bomb.

“WICKED!” cried George. While the twins are reveling in their success, you took the chance to push George off you and launch towards Fred.

While George was caught off guard, Fred had the few seconds in which you got up to process what was happening and sprinted towards the door.

“IMMA GET YOU FRED!”

“LET’S SEE THAT SMALL LEGS!”

“GOT YA! AHHHHH--” One moment you had your hand on Fred’s shoulder, next you felt a tug on your waist. “GEORGE LET. ME. GO”

“No can do y/n/n.”

His hold wasn’t enough to hurt you, but it was certainly tighter. “Learned from your earlier mistake eh” You teased.

“Just caught me off guard” George reasoned.

Fred walking backwards, bids his farewell. “See you Suckers!” He shouted, taking a bow. With that he disappears round the corner.

A THUD.

“Ginny!”

You and George shared a look of confusion, what was going on?

Arriving at the scene, you are not surprised to see a sneering Ginny.

“That’s what you get for going in my room!”

What you’re more surprised to see is a frantic Fred. You knew that Ginny is fully capable of being terrifying but this was all in good fun right?

Slowly George walked up to his brother. “Freddie what’s wrong?”

“The ball… it slipped”

Eyes wide, your heart starts to beat faster. “Where…?”

You barely had gotten the question out, the answer is given.

As if on cue, you hear shouts coming from your right, Ron’s room.

Ginny being the closest, beats all of you to the door. When it opened, you catch the faint bit of purple smoke before it completely clears away, no other evidence of the stink ball in sight-you smile at the result, hard work does pay off.

‘Now is not a time to be happy y/n’ you told yourself. Your gaze reached the unconscious bodies on the two beds. “Well that’s…..uhh... new...”

Here are 4 guilty looking teenagers looking at the scene of the crime.

Ginny gingerly poked Ron’s side, keeping a fair distance away just in case he jolts back. “…Are they dead?” she asked, breaking the silence.

“I don’t know! Why don’t you ask them!” George paused his pacing to point his finger at both you and Fred.

“Hey! I am not the one you had thrown the stink bomb into the room!” You said defensively. “Besides I told you to test it when I’m ready! BUT NOOOO… you two wanted it now WITHOUT EVEN KNOWING IT’S FULL CAPACITY AND RESTRICTIONS!”

“I…..I…” When George couldn’t come up with a come back, he changed tactics. Turning to Fred he challenges. “You’re being remarkably calm about this.”

Fred, who was still standing rooted at the entryway, replied. “Thanks, it’s the shock. Give me fifteen minutes, the screaming will happen.”

“What the heck happened anyway?” asked Ginny.

“Yea, I thought it was just a stink bomb that could explode!” added George.

“It is just an exploding stink bomb!”

“Then why are they unconscious?” George’s panic becomes more evident as in addition to his pacing, his voice is now an octave higher.

“I think that the stink bomb was too powerful for such a small room.” Sighing, you gestured to the closed windows. “There’s no adequate ventilation too. Must have cause them to inhale a larger concentration”

“How long will they be out?”

“I don’t know Ginny…really.” You shrug. “It could be hours, one to two at best.”

“TWO HOURS?!?” The twins say in union despite one clearly in utter distress while the other scarily unmoving.

Fred gripped his hair, placed his head in between his thighs and let out a scream that could rival a lion.

George now having lost hope of his brother functioning, took charge. “Mum is gonna be back any second now. What are we gonna do?”

“Well, first…we’re gonna check the boy’s condition again for progress” You suggest, dragging Ginny to check on hair while you check on Ron.

“Then..we’re gonna say..”

“GOT YA!” You 4 shout, finger guns at the ready.

“Wait.. WHAT?!!?? WHAT’S HAPPENING?” George looks at Harry and Ron- who are surprisingly alright and laughing their heads off, to you and GInny looking very smug.

Fred tilts his red face up to the commotion.

“YOU JUST GOT PRANKED! SAY CHESSE!” You announced, indicating to Ginny with the camera.

“Cheeseee” murmured the twins in defeat.

~

“How’d you do it?”

You knew that they would be back with questions. You keep them on the edge as you finish up your potions essay.

"You lot are predictable."

"Predictable?" George scoffed.

Tidying up the study table you continue "Mhhhmmm hmmm. Predicted that you would test it out on Ron, knew that you would try to steal it from me cause you both are very impatient- especially you Fred."

"Heyy!"

"But how did you wake up Harry and Ron?" Piped George. "We shook them but they were still unconscious!"

"Ah George ever the curious. It's simple really." You lay on the bed with hands behind your head, enjoying this moment of outsmarted the boys. "Your siblings were all very tired of been pranked so when we saw an opportunity to have you taste of your own medicine we grab them chance."

You glance at them.

"The time of you setting off the stink bomb is unknown but we were ready. I've made a nose blocker chewing gum while I was tinkering with the foul smell of the stink bomb."

"No sense of smell, no effect." stated Fred.

"Exactly, the rest I'd just improv and acting! The boys weren't actually unconscious, just a temporary numbing spell which Ginny and I reversed when we checked on them."

Sitting back up, you continued.

"What I didn't predict was how crazy you with react. I've never seen you two gone off the rails scared shirtless like that before." You admitted. "Priceless."

"And now you have a photo of it" grumbled George.

"And video too!"

"WHAT?"

Taglist [All/General]: @gruffle1

HP Taglist: @onlyfreds

[seasonofthewicth]

quarantine questions

AN: this was inspired by the incredible @highqueenofelfhame ‘s fic everyone’s favourite teacher (which you can find here xxx and I 100% recommend). I absolutely adore that fic and couldn’t help but write my own spin on teacher Rowan and Aelin. 

p.s. one day I will write Aelin as something other than a teacher, today is just not that day. 

p.p.s. this isn’t a proposal fic I just can’t think of titles. Anyway, enjoy!

word count: ~2.2k

part 2 - part 3

------ 

Aelin loved her job, she really did, but Gods did quarantine make it difficult.

Normally she loved seeing the kids, they were great fun, and most of them wanted to learn and wanted to be in her classroom which meant the environment was positive and enjoyable. Even the kids that didn’t want to be there could usually be won over with a few tricks or promises of treats, which was always rewarding.

The interactions with the kids were what made her get up in the morning, the reason she had become a teacher in the first place was to satisfy her desire to help nurture children and to help them grow. But then the global pandemic had hit and the access to her students was reduced.

Not only did she have to adapt to trying to teach her lessons online, working out how the content could be explained using only her voice and a computer screen had pushed her in ways she hadn’t expected. While it was satisfying when she figured things out Aelin knew her lessons over zoom weren’t up to her usual standard.

That was the reason she had let her students know she would be at her desktop for an extra half an hour every day after school usually finished, for them to come to her if they had any problems or anything they wanted her to go through with them. Normally she would have operated her open-classroom-door policy, but a virtual replacement would have to do.

A good number of her students had taken up her offer of extra time to go through problems with her in the few weeks since she had started it, some came in groups for extra explanation for her lessons or some came individually for personal guidance.

As the clock struck 3:30 she joined the zoom call to wait for any students to join. It wasn’t long before a notification popped up telling her a student was requesting access to the call.

“Hello,” She called once the student had entered the call.

“Hey Miss G.” The student on the call was a young girl named Evangeline. 

Evangeline was an enthusiastic student and always tried her best. She sometimes struggled with the content, but her perseverance was what gave Aelin such a soft spot for her.

“Hey Evangeline, what can I do for you today?” She asked, making sure her tone was upbeat enough to invite questions.

“I just have a few questions about your lesson today I was hoping we could go through them?”

“Of course,” She said, grabbing her notepad and pen in case she needed to do any drawing of diagrams to aid her explanation, or make any notes for herself.

It didn’t take her long to go through Evangeline’s list of questions, they were all genuine and thought provoking, and it made Aelin smile knowing Evangeline had thought deeply about her teaching.

“Is that everything for today?” She asked capping her pen. “How are all the rest of your classes going?”

Evangeline took a deep breath, looking down below her computer screen and Aelin’s stomach turned nervously.

“They’re okay…” She started. “Most of them are fine, Spanish is even going well, it’s just Maths.”

Aelin shuffled where she sat, hoping the conversation wasn’t going where she thought it was as her student continued.

“I’m in Mr Whitethorn’s class, and his teaching in our lessons is fine, I’m just really struggling with the assignments. The class is huge too, so I don’t like to speak when I don’t get something.”

Mr Whitethorn.

Mr Rowan Whitethorn.

Aelin’s boyfriend of three years, not that Evangeline knew that, who was currently sitting in the room next door where he had been teaching his own zoom classes for the past few weeks.

She had met Rowan when she joined the school almost four years ago, she was newly qualified and nervous for her first proper teaching job. She had made friends quickly within her own department, the other history teachers Yrene and Elide were great fun and always up for a raucous night of drinking with Aelin. They had taken her under their wings when Aelin first started, which had led to her meeting Rowan.

The school was one of the largest in their district, meaning the different departments didn’t often mix, but one night Elide had brought along her boyfriend Lorcan, another maths teacher, who brought along his co-worker Rowan.

Rowan Whitethorn had not been what Aelin had expected. She remembered seeing him in the halls at school, dressed smartly in his button down and slacks, square framed glasses hiding most of his face.

In the bar Rowan Whitethorn had looked like a god. His tightly-fitted t-shirt highlighting his strongly-built arms and allowing her a long look at his intricate tattoo stretching down one of his arms that had previously been hidden. His silver hair shining in the bright lights as he towered over her to greet Elide.

He had flashed her a grin as he had taken the seat next to her and introduced himself and Aelin had been gone. Hooked on his slanted smile and the twinkle in his shining green eyes.

They had got along well all night, and he had bid her farewell with a chaste kiss on the cheek. The next morning she swallowed her pride and asked Elide if she could pass along his number. Elide had only replied with a phone number and a smirking emoji.

From there their relationship had been simple, but not boring. He drew out her fire and she loved him for it.

They had kept their relationship hidden at school, which had proven difficult once the quarantine kicked in and they had to hide the fact that their zoom lessons were taking place in the same house.

Aelin sighed, her attention only briefly drawn away from her student. “I’m sorry to hear that, Evangeline. Have you tried contacting Mr Whitethorn separately to let him know that you’re struggling? I’m sure he’d be more than willing to help you if he knew.”

She knew her boyfriend would be horrified to find out that a student was struggling and had been too shy to ask for help.

“No,” The young girl started, still blushing. “I’m not really sure what I would say.”

“I could help you draft an email if you wanted?” Aelin offered immediately and let out a soft sigh of relief as Evangeline nodded enthusiastically.

-----

Once her call with Evangeline had finished where Aelin had helped her to compose a draft email to Mr Whitethorn she shut her computer and left her office. She padded into the living room where she found her boyfriend lounging on the sofa, dressed in a pair of light grey sweats and a Doranelle University sweatshirt. 

Seeing him dressed so casually in their home sent a warm jolt through her chest, and an only slightly lesser rush of warmth headed somewhere slightly lower through her at the sight of him.

She flopped down next to him and burrowed her nose into his neck, breathing in his pine and snow scent.

“Hello, you.” His voice was soft as he pecked a kiss onto her cheek. “How was your day?”

She laughed, tilting her head up to face him. It wasn’t like she hadn’t seen him today; they coordinated their breaks to see each other throughout the days.

“Fine,” She said with a sly smile. “I helped one of my students draft an email for her ever so wonderful maths teacher, Mr Whitethorn, to ask for some extra help.”

“Oh Gods,” He laughed, a loud and bright sound, and tucked an arm around her shoulders pulling her in tight. “What a nightmare. He sounds like a great teacher to me.”

She snorted. “And modest.”

He poked her side. “I think he’ll get back to them tomorrow, he’s busy now anyway.”

With that he pressed a more meaningful kiss to her cheek and peppered them all the way down until his lips were pressed against her own. She leaned into the kiss, twisting her fingers through his thick hair to pull him closer towards herself.

It was incredible how he still managed to ignite her blood with a kiss, her skin burned where he touched. He slid his hands down her sides, tucking one into the crook of her knee and hitching her leg up over his own.

After a few minutes she managed to draw herself back for a breath. “He is very busy.” She pressed one last kiss against his lips. “Cooking his beautiful girlfriend her dinner. She’s very hungry.”

He growled, face pressed tightly against her neck and nipped the skin lightly with his teeth, a promise for later, but stood up, nonetheless. He held his hand out for hers and tugged her up to follow him to the kitchen.

-----

She knew Rowan had seen Evangeline’s email, and had arranged his own one-to-one session with her over zoom to go through her questions. They mostly tried to stay out of each other’s teaching, knowing that everyone had different styles and used different techniques, but they shared general pieces of information about their roles and their students.

She knew Evangeline was feeling better about his class now, she’d told her a couple of weeks later in another one of her post-school hours drop ins that she had spoken with him and he had offered her guidance on the assignment.

She also told Aelin that Mr Whitethorn had opened up the chat facility for students who weren’t confident in speaking aloud to ask questions during his lessons. Aelin had to bury her smirk at the comment, hiding the fact that Aelin herself had made that suggestion to a worried Rowan.

She was currently on an extended drop in session with around fifteen of her students going through one of the larger pieces of coursework she was setting for the class. She had tried to avoid setting large pieces of assessed work throughout the pandemic as she knew how difficult it was to work from home and she understood that not all students had a level playing field when working from home, but this one had been unavoidable.

This session had run way past the time she had allocated for it; they were over an hour into the half-hour time slot she normally used at the end of the day for the sessions.

She was listening to her students’ discussions of their ideas for the coursework, she encouraged group work and collaboration as long as the final pieces of work were completed independently.

She nodded along silently, until she heard a voice from behind her.

“Aelin, are you coming—” Rowan’s voice cut off as he froze in the doorway. 

She gasped, whirling in her seat, aware of the students on her call falling silent.

Her eyes flew back to her computer screen to check the small square in the corner that showed what her students could see of her.

Rowan was clearly well inside the frame where he stood behind her, frozen with his hand on the door handle, his mouth hanging open in an exaggerated o-shape.

She turned back towards him, her own eyes as wide as his as they met, neither knowing what to say or how they could explain his presence in her house with anything other than the truth. She knew there were too many students on her session for this to stay a secret too, the news would spread along the student network in no time.

Rowan’s mouth snapped shut and he began to inch backwards to where he had come from, but he was interrupted by a voice.

“Hey Mr Whitethorn.” Evangeline’s voice was clear over the zoom call, and it snapped Aelin out of her stupor.

“Hey guys,” Rowan’s voice was croaky. “I’ll just be—”

“Mr Whitethorn will be going now.” At her raised eyebrows he raised his hands in apology and crept back out of the room, pulling the door closed softly behind himself.

Aelin dropped her forehead to her hands and puffed out a laugh, before glancing back up at her screen.

At least five of her students were visibly on their mobiles, tapping away. Those who weren’t all wore mischievous grins. This was mortifying.

“I know why he was so helpful after our chat now Miss G.” Evangeline’s voice was smug even over the video call.

“Yes, well. Sorry about that, anyway, moving on.” She could move past this; she would move past this.

----

She left the room once the call with her students was finished, most of the awkwardness had cleared by the time the call had ended, but she had no doubt that there wasn’t a single student in the school who wouldn’t have heard about this by the next day.

She collapsed onto the sofa, her face buried in a pillow next to where Rowan sat, looking down at her sheepishly.

“I’m so sorry Aelin.”

She let out a muffled scream before taking a deep breath and looking up at him, a wonky smile spreading across her face.

“It’s not your fault,” She told him. “It’s this rutting quarantine.”

------ 

In regard to tags, I have so far assumed that anyone who has previously asked to be tagged had requested specifically for my new girl au fic, if you want to be added to a general tag list for things like this please let me know!

[aesthbaby]

Midnight favor

Summary:  Reader is running out in the middle of the night to get food that Emily is craving.

Pairings: Reader x Emily Prentiss

Prompt: Basically the same as the summary, I found it on this prompt generator website

Warnings: Chocolate? 

Word Count: 1k

Masterlist:

An: Working on clearing out my draft box.

“Pretty please?” She sticks her bottom lip out and starts pampering your neck with kisses. “I promise to do the dishes for the rest of the week.”

“Emily,” You turn to her. “You never do the dishes.”

“Exactly!” She looks at you like a sad puppy. “If you go get them I’ll finally do them.”

“Two weeks?” You up the stakes.

She narrows her eyes on you before agreeing. “Fine!” You get your coat and slip on the nearest pair of shoes. “Wait, woah, what are you doing? Those are mine.”

You look at her like she’s grown another head. “Your point?” You start walking around your loft in search of your missing phone. “If I’m going out to get you-” You stick your head out the doorway to her. “What was it again?”

“Green Tea Kit Kats, two of them please.” You never pegged Emily as a Kit-Kat person but when word got out about the U.S. getting their hands on it, Em was ecstatic. You stand in from of her with her on the couch, feet on the coffee table. “What?”

“How much do these cost?”

She rolls her eyes and reaches for her wallet. “Do you really want to know?” She draws out the ‘really’ and god does it sound good when she says it like that. Your girlfriend hands you a 50, mouthing a thank you in return. You head for the door and before opening it you hear a quick, “Keep your phone on!” from behind you.

Green Tea Kti-Kat...unbelievable. You head out into the cold. You almost bump into Mrs. Shapiro, your next door neighbor. She adjusts her glasses and squints up at you. “Well hello Y/n Prentiss.”

You laugh at the older woman’s shenanigans. “I’ve told you a million times, Mrs. Shapiro.” You hold the door open for her. “We’re not married.”

She offers you quiet thank you. “Its about time. You’ve been living together for a few months now.”

“That’s not long enough to propose marriage.”

“Me and my husband were engaged before we ever met.” When you found out that their marriage was arranged before they were even born, it shocked you.

“Well, Emily and I want to get to know each other before we commit to something like that.”

She shrugs at your remark. “Emily is what the young people call a ‘catch.’ If you don’t wed her soon, someone else might.” That one threw you for a loop.

You simply smile at her and turn to leave. “Have a good night Mrs. S.”

The corner store was out of them...of course. Two stops later in the freezing cold you finally find a store with the green candies. “How many?” The cashier asks.

“How many can I get?” The display looks well stocked, its tempting to buy your girlfriend the entire shelf but that’d be rude right?

“State has us putting a limit on these.” The man nudges to the stock behind him. “But for you? I could let it slide.” As he’s talking he leans over the counter, closer to you. There’s an overwhelming stench of kitchen grease on him that makes you want to spill your guts on the tile floors. You play along, smile and pretend like you’re thinking about it. All while fishing into your jacket for your badge. When met with your credentials the man jumps back like he’s seen a ghost. You almost laugh at the fool infront of you who has almost tripped on his own feet.

“So about the kit-kats?” You tilt your head with a small smile.

He does a little nervous laugh before reaching for the display. “Here. On the house.”

“Are you sure? I can pay-”

“No no its fine, really.”

You bid him a polite farewell and start your trip home.

“Hey.” You hear Emily’s voice from the living room as you open the door. “What took you so long?”

A quick glance in the kitchen tells you the dishes haven’t been done. “Oh nothing,” There she is, on the couch in your same spot. “Just enjoying the scenery. I got a surprise, close your eyes.”

“This better not be a puppy.”

“A puppy? What? Nevermind, are your eyes closed?”

“Yes baby my eyes are closed.”

You peak your head around the corner to make sure she’s telling the truth. She looks like a little kid. You take the box and loudly dump it on the coffee table. Then gently place her fifty dollar bill on the top of the pile “Okay now I’m too scared to open them.”

“You’re going to love it, promise.”

“All I asked for was chocolate so this is concerning.” You lightly pull her hands away from her eyes to revel the 40 chocolate bars you acquired. She’s speechless for a second so you nudge her. “Did you rob the place?” Your smile grows even wider at her accusation. “Because you do know that’s an abuse of power right?”

“Shut up and eat.” You hand her one of the pieces off the table. “Or else I’ll just take them back.”

Didn’t have to tell her twice. “But really,” she says with a full mouth. “How did you get this much without spending any money?”

You lightly laugh to yourself as the earlier memory plays in your head. “Some guy at the store was being really creepy so I flashed my badge.” A perfectly plucked eyebrow arches itself. “I know, not something I’d usually do but he had it coming.”

“And he just gave you all of this?”

“I offered to pay...” You shrug and listen as Emily falls into a fit of laughter.

“I’m just imagining the look on his face.”

“Unfortunately I don’t think I can ever go back there...”

 “Yeah, your face will probably be on one of those ‘banned’ posters outside of the window.” You playfully throw the nearest pillow at her. Effectively smearing green chocolate on it.

.｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*★*･ ･*･'･*:..:*･゜ﾟ･*☆*:. .｡.:*☆

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[softoonz]

Hi! May I request a jealous Ohma finding his fem s/o (who’s visibly uncomfortable) get hit on despite telling them that she is taken. :)))

hello ! and sure thing babe, here's a bar/restaurant jealousy scenario.

word count : 716

ohma isn't the type to get "jealous" over someone flirting with you, more like it just bothers him tremendously and makes him extremely protective as a result.

he doesn't like the idea of someone random bothering you in a suggestively sexual way but, thankfully most people take the hint as soon as you tell them that you're not interested so the both of you have never had to deal with someone taking it too far yet.

which is why at first he isn’t paying much attention to your interactions, he can see you from afar talking to someone one but he doesn't think anything of it until the person you're talking to gets a little to close for comfort, brushing up against you suggestively and trying to touch you; all advances you've been rejecting since that weirdo approached you by the way.

but they're not stopping and you're just getting too overwhelmed to do anything but nervously laugh until a familiar warmth engulfs you and you're no longer staring at the flirty stranger but your boyfriend's large back.

he's pissed off for sure (an understatement but I digress.) that this person is making you uncomfortable. you could feel the tension begin to rise all around you and though you couldn’t properly see his face you were sure if looks could kill...

this person would have probably been dead by now but they just stood there, probably too up their ass to notice the murderous aura surrounding the man between them "hey, uh, buddy? mind moving?" they laugh, winking at you from over ohmas shoulder which sends a horrible shiver down your spine.

"or what?" ohma challenged with a dark smirk, you were sure if this guy made one move to even accept this "challenge" ohma would lay his ass out here and right now, in the middle of a bustling bar/restaurant where a dozen or so peoples night out would be interrupted and you (kaede, kazuo, and ohma) would most likely get kicked out.

so you took initiative and moved in between ohma and the verbal offender, gently placing a hand on ohmas chest in an attempt to calm him down "I don't think a fight will be necessary so let's just go back to the table, please?" you were pulling the sleeve of his shirt now, trying to get him to leave before the prick tried to rile him up again but the outcome you were so desperately against seemed almost inevitable as you were pushed back into the crowd by said prick so they could get closer to your partner "you think youre tough big guy?" In an attempt to challenge him they got in his face, a sneer twisting on their drunken features but ohma had his eyes on you the entire time; watching you get pushed and slip right onto your ass incited a flare of anger deep within him. even if it was just a minor fall you'd probably receive no damage from it bothered him that this motherfucker thought they could touch you in the first place.

next thing you know the group of rowdy bar brawlers are being kicked out, alongside ohma who wasted no time breaking your incessant pursuers jaw and fighting off their posse of drunkards effectively leaving them all in a crumpled and bruised mess limping away with their tails between their legs.

and you, kaede, and kazuo are left outside collectively scolding the fighter for his antics. though, he doesn't seem remorseful at all maybe just barely bothered but otherwise satisfied by the violent outcome of tonight's celebration. he seems more concerned with you however so as you two bid farewell to kazuo and a visibly annoyed kaede he asks you if you're okay and if your ass hurts because he saw you fall straight on it. "I should be asking you that!" you laugh as you reach up to gently press at the bruise beginning to form on his jaw earning you a wince and soft swat at your arm, "I told you there was no need to fight but you just can't help it can you?" at your playful but scolding remark he shrugs "wasn't like it was much of a challenge anyway." they shouldn't have touched you in the first place.

a.n. hello! im back on my bullshit with a cute little scenario/headcanon piece i hope you enjoy. its been in my drafts forever and i haven’t posted in a while so i figured might as well put it out. anyways stay safe lovely person and ill see you later 💕

[tsuumu]

saw that requests were open and😳😳 how ab fluffy best to lovers with iwaizumi or suga? like they are best friends and seem to always be touching each other in some way like hand on waist or knees touching etc. and confession happens and maybe... just maybe... kiss... if this doesnt fickle your pickle or you feel uncomfortable then feel free to ignore! your writing is great thank you for considering🥺🥺

hi anon, thank you so much for requesting! i’ve been doing requests when i feel like them (apparently 4:28am is the perfect time to start drafting this in my mind) so i apologise for how late it is!

i’ve also decided to split this into two parts, the first being sugawara and the second iwaizumi! i love rambling about cute conventional plotlines like this so there was no way both wouldn’t be excessively long put together.

part two will be linked here when i get round to it!

enjoy!

y’know, people actually do wonder if the two of you are somehow joined to one another in some bizarre manner. it’s practically impossible to see either of you away from the other for an extended period of time. and it’s not creepy, or weird. it’s ridiculously wholesome. they only enquire because both you and koushi take that classic ‘best friend’ trope to a whole other level. 

it’s sweet. sickeningly so. 

we’re talking after-school dates at the prettiest little cafe just off the side of the main road. it’s barely a ten minute walk, not that you’d notice seeing as the time is filled with consistent, care-free conversations between the two of you. koushi practically begs you to come with him whenever you’re free. you’ve both dubbed it your super secret spot, since other students don’t come so often or probably even know it’s there. his teammates ask him from time to time, where exactly the two of you go. it’s usually because you’re chortling amongst yourselves about some passage of prior conversation, or beaming unanimously over the sheer deliciousness of the pastries there, made fresh. 

but koushi never tells. oh no. he wants it to be ‘our spot’ as he likes to call it. you think he’s just being funny and poke his arm whenever he mentions it, agreeing jokingly that he’s not allowed to take anybody else there but you. 

you needn’t worry, he wouldn’t dream of it. 

he’s always early when you do go, waiting for you by the school gates. and it’s crazy, the wave of comfort that washes over you the second you lay your eyes on the boy, it’s something you can’t experience with just anybody. 

you have had your fears when it comes to finishing your third year, since your sights are set on finding employment deep in the heart of tokyo, koushi on the other hand, prefers the domesticity of the urban life. he’s perfectly at home where he stands. and you love that for him, you want him to be happy, truly, but the thought of having to bid the boy farewell seems incomprehensible. like you’ve offended yourself for even contemplating the prospect.

no, you’ve never actually brought up the subject with him. it’s a little early and all too much to say out loud. plus, what if you do and he’s completely nonchalant about it? you’re practically dreading the months as they pass, wondering if sheer luck will allow your friendship to continue with such potency whilst he’s totally oblivious and dismissive when you do get round to it! oh, god. you hate it. you hate that you’re overthinking the entire thing.

you know you’re short circuiting over something so pointless, trains exist, you’ll have the funds and means of transportation... but is it? losing someone who fills your day up is like losing part of yourself. you can already imagine what it’d be like alone, going to other bistros and constantly comparing them to that one. and how lonely you’ll be. how desperate to tell him everything that happens to you. how work goes, if you’re feeling homesick. you know he’ll call you often because he cares too much not to, which you’re thankful for, but it’s not the same. he won’t be here, he won’t be there to touch you like he does now, to keep you safe.

a gulp later and you’re totally fixated on the warmth koushi emits. you’d be grieving without it.

“lost?” a light brush of your forehead rids you of your thoughts. 

“hm?”

he’s lightly plucking at the strands of hair hovering above you, focusing briefly. there’s a small speck of dust that’s been caught. after a few unsuccessful attempts, he manages to get it out. 

well he mutters that he’s unsuccessful, but really, he’s finding inconspicuous excuses to feel how soft your hair is against the back of his palm.

“lost you for a second there.” he replies, before shifting back, blowing the dust from his fingertip. “everything okay?”

you feel so regretful daydreaming about him in front of his face, and it’s not even that, it’s the fact you’re with him right now, right this moment. you know that time is slipping and yet you’re wasting it mulling over pessimistic thoughts of the future. 

“mm. i’m alright, sorry. thank you, by the way.”

“don’t thank me.” he picks up the dainty little cup and you study the floral patterns carefully, you recognize this one. well, you’re familiar with most of them now. if one would ever end up breaking, you’d probably know, since they’re so unique in their respective decorations and there’s only a few. koushi is extra careful with it, free hand slotted under the base of the cup. it’s elegant. he’s pretty when he drinks. 

actually, you were thinking about all of that because he’d brought up graduation, his match with against shiratorizawa had gone down splendidly, no doubt even he was shocked they’d made it to nationals. koushi had often lamented to you about being karasuno’s substitute setter, though he admires kageyama plenty and knows what was best for the team. he’s awfully good at putting others first, even if he really wants to play. that’s what you’d concluded. soon after nationals, comes the end of the academic year. too soon, way too soon.

that awful feeling rises up again. 

his hands stretch across the table, gently engulfing yours, and it’s lovely, really, how comfortable you are with one another. how instantly calming he is. 

“you’ll come to watch us play, right?”

“i always come, silly. i wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

you’ve never seen him so happy.

the evening he rushed to you straight out of the coach, breathless, telling you they’d won. it was like he was able to shine even brighter than he already did. and for a moment, you looked at him—really looked— and you wished you could’ve captured that moment, in all its glory, forever.

koushi. too good to be real, aren’t you?

you are listening, you swear to god you are. everything he says processes but realisation is eating you alive. you don’t think you can live without him. oh, you sound so flimsy, so pitiful and maybe you are. destably so. you’re too selfish for your own good.

but he’s still holding onto you, still careful with his grasp, but with the way his thumb skirts ever so gently across the ridge of your hand, he has no intentions of letting go just yet. you don’t want him to. you’d like to stay like this a while longer.

but it’s late and he’s exhausted from practice, especially now he’s doing twice the amount for nationals. he insists that even if he isn’t on the main roster, he’ll be needed. a team needs absolutely everybody to function properly.

so when he pays for you yet again, chair scraping slightly on the wooden planks of flooring to leave, your heart is caught in your throat, drenched in feeling like it’s the last time you’ll ever see him.

of course you follow him out, politely thanking the old lady who runs the cafe on your way. his feet are planted just steps away from the entrance, gaze to the sky, a flurry of darkness and escaping slithers of light. of course he’s smiling. 

part of you wants to hit his arm, ask him how he could possibly be relaxed, stretching his arms lime that when you’re on the verge of losing it. but he hasn’t looked at you yet. when he does, he’ll know. 

it doesn’t vanish, that affability that accompanies his grin, even when a look of concern is etched all over his face. it’s still so radiant. koushi doesn’t know how to be unkind. but he knows how to blind you. 

“why are you crying?” 

there he is again, thumb smearing at the tears that’ve barely slipped. you’re crying without realising. you were fine moments ago but now you’re sobbing so hard it’s difficult to breathe out. there’s nothing empty about it, they’re infuriatingly real, like you’ve already lost him. like he’s walked down the road, waved to you one last time and died. 

suddenly there’s a million things you want to say to him, and another three years won’t be near enough to get them all out. 

it’ll be too hard to explain over text, or call, too late too.

“ko-oushi..” you tremble out, and he knows you won’t be able to explain. he’s okay with that. just forgive yourself for now and he’ll walk you home. you don’t like to cry. you cry a lot but it never gets easier. he doesn’t mind, though. he likes how big your heart is, even if you insist it’s awful. what does worry him, though, is that someday someone might mistake it for weakness. you don’t deserve to know what true heartbreak feels like.

 so, his hand’s in yours, consoling you like one would a child, always dabbing at those tears and telling you things will be alright. koushi knows that you’ll tell him when you’re ready, especially if it’s something that’s upset you this much. 

“i don’t want to graduate.” is all you think to come up with, which is a blatant lie. you do want to. all you do is talk about how much you do, but you don’t want to graduate from him.

his response is a little tentative at first.

 “why?”

“because.. i’ll go away. i’ll go far away and i’ll miss you.”

he’s deathly quiet, it’s terrifying.

“and if i miss you i’ll keep missing you until i can’t stand it anymore, koushi.” you ramble on, utterly humiliated that you’re confessing just how deep your dependency on him is. but you can’t stop. you don’t have time to. “i hate life. i hate that i can’t see a future without you. i don’t want to drag you back or control you in any way but god, i think i need you.”

you’re not quite sure what this is. is this.. a heated tangent, a sob-fest to a confidante, a guilt-ridden confession from an obsessive maniac? you hadn’t actually thought about what you wanted or would gain from telling him all this. perhaps it’d been bottled too long, longer than you were conscious of and this was the only resort left to release it. he’ll probably end up hating you by the time you’re done strangling out the last few words, deem you insane and ask you to seek some sort of professional help, knowing him, he’d help you find it.

it doesn’t matter. you’re talking and talking and talking, tripping unattractively over phrases and you have no intentions of stopping. not even to breathe, not like you have been anyway. you can’t even look at him whilst you parade yourself like this.

that’s alright with him. he really loves the sound of your voice. 

he’s listening. he swears to god he is, but all he can think about is how happy you’ve made him. how he’d never leave you lonely.

but how could he ever convince you? unlike you, koushi isn’t the best with words. he’ll nod for hours and hours as you pour your heart out over something, and still come up empty. really, he doesn’t know what he wants either. he has ideas of the next few years, but he hasn’t even addressed the fact you’d be absent in all of it. you don’t know it, but he’s so used to you he’s practically filled you into his future automatically.

still, you’re talking, not too sure what you’re even saying anymore. and neither does he if he’s completely honest, but he’s too fond of you to mention it.

but he does it. he places his hand on the nape of your neck and kisses you.

he promises it’s not to be rude, or because he’s not interested in whatever it is you’re trying to say. but because he’s wanted to do this for ages. would it be overly dramatic to say the first time he lay his eyes on you? maybe. it wouldn’t be too far from the truth.

oh, god. he’s really kissing you.

he’s sweet tasting and nothing like you could’ve ever imagined. and believe you, you’d thought about it quite a bit. the way he’d feel against you. you’d never admit to anybody that you’d fantasied about this, feeling his tongue flutter over the seam of your mouth, hands dipping gently into the flesh of you as he tightens his hold on your waist.

why couldn’t you have accepted earlier you were fucking head over heels for him?

and of course he likes you back! he calls you his! he takes you on dates and touches you and has eyes for only you. how thick were you?

it’s alright.

at least you’ve gotten there eventually.

though a few months too late, you’re kissing him in the middle of your hometown, and he’s whispering against your lips that you won’t be losing him anytime soon.