#Physically incapable of drawing both eyes

[slytherinslut0]

theodore nott. | you’re mine tonight

summary: theodore nott is always willing to be used by you. if you’re going to use somebody, just let it be him.

word count: 800

tags: headcanons that once again turned into this. i try to keep things short, apparently im physically incapable🥹 nothing crazy here other then implied fwb, slight angst, reader heartbreak kinda cuz cormac sux, theo being good with words as always, make out session at the end

Theodore Nott, who watches as you and your situationship, Cormac, argue every single day.

Theodore Nott who sees you cry constantly as a result of these arguments, tonight no unorthodox exception as you come storming back into the Slytherin common room with tears streaming down your cheeks, kicking off your heels and throwing yourself down next to him on a secluded corner couch.

Your eyes, brimming with anguish and pleading for solace, lock onto his, a look he knows all too damn well.

Theodore Nott, who doesn’t have to ask, doesn’t have to pry, who already knows exactly why you’re here, sitting next to him, when you could be literally anywhere else. He reads the story in your tear-streaked cheeks and your trembling hands. It’s a scene he’s witnessed so many times he’s lost count.

Theodore Nott, who merely closes his book, runs a hand through his tousled hair, and rests the other on your knee. PDA is off the table since you don’t want Cormac to find out—even though he’s been sneaking off with more girls than you have fingers on both hands—so Theo simply looks at you with those steady, knowing eyes and whispers, “your dorm or mine?”

You swallow, grateful gaze shifting toward the door. It’s always so fucking easy with Theo.

“Always yours,” you murmur, rising to your feet and picking up your discarded heels. Without waiting for his response, you start toward his dorm, certain he’s right behind you. He always is.

Theodore Nott, who shuts the door and locks it behind you as the two of you enter. The lights are dim, the shadows of the Black Lake ripple against the walls, and moonlight flickers throughout the room. Theodore Nott, who notices the look on your face well before you do, who can already sense the words that are about to slip past your teeth.

Theo knows well enough by now that you only come to him when you’re hurt, and you never feel good about it until he reassures you it’s okay. He sees it in the subtle shift of your gaze, the furrow of your brow, the tremble of your lips—a silent plea for forgiveness he’s already long granted you.

“I’m sorry, Theo…”

Theodore Nott, who understands you just need someone to hold you right now. Someone who will look at you with warmth, with desire, with need, someone who will give you all of himself in this moment. A shoulder to cry on, bedsheets to lie on.

“It’s okay, bella, don’t apologize…”

Theodore Nott who steps closer, his hands stern yet gentle as they cup your cheeks, drawing your gaze to his. Reverent blue eyes glisten like two oceans, drowning you in their warmth. Theodore Nott who brushes the damp from your cheeks with his thumbs before leaning down, grazing his lips over yours, feather-light.

“I’ve said it about a million times, you know I’ve already told you—“

Theodore Nott, who interrupts his own sentence by pressing his lips to yours, inhaling a sharp breath as your salty sweetness ignites in his mouth. Tears mingle with your cherry lip gloss, his hands sliding back into your hair, and he’s lost and then found again—as though you’re the only beacon in a world shrouded in darkness, the answer to all his unspoken questions.

Theodore Nott, who needs this, who wants this just as much, if not more, than you do.

“—if you’re gonna’ use somebody…use me…”

Theodore Nott who practically growls those words into your mouth as fervour takes over, as hunger roars harder and stronger with each passing second. One hand grips your hair, holding your lips to his while the other falls to your blouse, slender fingers undoing the buttons with a speed that leaves you breathless.

“…I’m so fucking willing to be somebody you need…”

His fingers deftly slip the last button free, his hand sliding beneath the fabric to feel the warmth of your skin. The touch sends shivers through you, your body responding to his every move. His lips trail down your jaw, pressing hot kisses along your neck, making you gasp. Theodore's grip on your hair tightens just enough to tilt your head back, exposing more of your throat to his eager mouth.

The room seems to shrink around you, the flickering moonlight casting shadows that dance across the walls, mirroring the wild rhythm of your hearts. He pulls back just enough to look into your eyes, his gaze dark and intense.

"You drive me insane…how much I fucking want you drives me insane," he admits, his breath hitching. "Every time I see you with him…every time I see what he does to you…it kills me…”

Theodore Nott whose words are like gasoline to an open flame, igniting a fierce need within you, scorching while simultaneously taming the desire to be desired. Theodore Nott who groans as you clutch at his shirt, pulling him closer, desperate to close any distance between you as he shifts you around and begins backing you up toward his bed.

"Show me, Theo," you whisper. "Show me how much you want me."

With a growl, Theodore crashes his lips back to yours, the kiss searing and urgent. He moves with you effortlessly, guiding you towards the bed, never breaking the contact. As you fall back onto the soft sheets, his body follows, covering you completely. His hands roam over your skin, leaving a trail of heat in their wake, each touch more intoxicating than the last.

"You're mine tonight," it’s a promise. Not a question. "No one else's. Just mine."

pretty divider made by: @saradika-graphics

[heich0e]

[warning: while f!reader is not described with any specific physical traits, the child in this fic is described as having inherited all of Megumi’s attributes and none from reader! please read with that in mind, or pass over this fic if not <3]

And a week after that terrible storm, Megumi pulls on his coat, locks up the clinic for the night, and heads to the nearby izakaya.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know her.”

Megumi deflates a little, leaning forward onto his elbows atop the service counter at the izakaya. The young man behind the bar looks sincerely apologetic that he can’t be of more help to him, a remorseful frown tugging at the corner of his lips.

“That’s fine,” Megumi says, smothering his burgeoning disappointment as best he can—blanketing it in a familiar air of indifference. “It was years ago.”

He’d asked for you when he arrived at the little hole-in-the-wall restaurant, having weaselled your family name out of Yuuji who’d in turn pressed Nanami for it—the elder man deeming a simple name suitably fair to share since it wasn’t particularly personal information, not least of all because he’s seemingly incapable of denying Yuuji anything he asks for. But the server who Megumi approached when he first arrived at the neighbourhood izakaya, the same establishment he’d visited with the old man all those years ago that hasn’t changed a bit since that day, didn’t seem to have any knowledge of you ever working there.

“I’ve only been here for a year,” the young man says, ruffling the back of his cropped hair sheepishly and glancing down the bar in the direction of the busy kitchen. “I could ask around, though? See if someone—”

“No, that’s alright,” Megumi cuts him off, bowing stiffly in his direction with his arms pinned down at his sides. “You’ve done more than enough. Thank you for your time.”

Megumi swiftly turns and heads in the direction of the door, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jacket. The izakaya is noisy around him as he crosses the restaurant towards the exit, full of people unwinding after a long day of work, sharing food and drinks and talking too loudly just to be heard over the cacophonous din. He’s never really liked the overly-boisterous atmosphere of these kinds of places, which is why he’s always preferred to drink at home—but every so often Yuuji or Nobara manages to draw him into an evening out at bars just like this one.

The man just wants to get back to his little apartment where he can enjoy some peace and quiet, and nurse the nagging feeling of disappointment he feels prickling in his hollow chest.

He’s only a few doors up the road from the building, making his way back in the direction of home, when he hears a ruckus behind him.

“Excuse me!… Excuse me, sir!”

Megumi pauses in his stride and glances back over his shoulder in the direction of the shouting, only to see the young man from behind the bar racing up the sidewalk towards him with his apron strings flapping in his haste. He’s a little winded by the time he reaches Megumi, hunching forward with his hands braced on his thighs atop the overhang of his apron as he struggles to catch his breath.

“The cook… said…” 

Megumi can barely understand what the boy is trying to say to him. He’s a little concerned by how out of breath he is, too. After a few more seconds of panting heavily, the young man looks up. 

“The cook said he knew her. The girl you’re looking for.”

Megumi’s eyes widen, his stomach doing an unpleasant little somersault in his core.

The server stands up straight, swallowing thickly. He’s more composed now after his sprint. He gives Megumi your name, your full name—both given and family—and Megumi recognizes it. “He said a student with that name worked here a few years ago, but she left when she got pregnant.”

Megumi’s hands clench into fists in the pockets of his coat.

The young man looks a bit sheepish. “I hope this helps. I don’t know if you remember, but you took good care of my family’s dog a few years ago at your clinic. I… wanted to repay you.” He bows earnestly in the vets direction, a full bend at his waist.

Megumi thinks he might vaguely remember him, though his hair was longer, he didn’t have the piercings in his ears, and his cheeks were rounder with baby fat back then. “Shino-kun?”

The boy lifts his head and nods eagerly, perking up at the recognition. 

His family had an inordinately rotund dachshund named Vienna. Like the sausage. 

“Thank you for your help,” Megumi says to him, and he means it. 

Shino nods in recognition of the thanks.

Megumi moves to leave, but pauses. “The cook… does he have her contact info?” 

The boy shakes his head, and Megumi feels that same flare of disappointment swell with renewed vigour, staring down at his feet on the pavement as he tries not to let it show. He supposes it would be strange to get that kind of information from him anyway. For all intents and purposes, he’s just some stranger trying to track a woman down, who in their right mind would—

“He said the last he heard she was working at the family restaurant a few blocks away, near the park—”

Megumi’s eyes snap up towards the server again.

“—do you know the one?” 

Yes. He does.

The old man used to take him there sometimes for lunch when he was still working at the clinic, because Megumi had a tendency to skip his midday meal. The waitresses all knew the old man by name, and he’d told Megumi that he and his wife had their first date in that very restaurant decades prior. It’s an ancient little spot that’s been there for far longer than Megumi’s lived in the neighbourhood. 

And he just so happens to have to pass it on his way back home.

The neon sign that hangs over the old family restaurant paints the evening street in its glow as Megumi stands outside the diner.

It’s late; encroaching on an hour that Nobara would affectionately call ‘past his bedtime’ since Megumi tends as a matter of habit to be a man who’s early to bed and early to rise. But regardless of the hour, Megumi can’t seem to make his feet carry him any further. Neither back to his home, nor through the business’s door.

Through one of the windows, past the reflective fluorescence from the lights outside, he sees you.

You’re standing at a table by the window, chatting with a couple whose meal you’ve just served. You have a smile on your face, but it’s not quite the smile that Megumi remembers—neither as bright, nor as carefree as the one in his memory. You don’t look the same either.

You’re older than you were back then—though certainly still not old by any means—but he supposes that’s only natural given how much time has passed since that first night he met you. He didn’t look at you properly that night you came to the clinic. Didn’t take the time to really observe you. All he can really remember is how soaking wet you were, and how you didn’t want to meet his gaze.

You meet it now.

You catch sight of him through the window just before you leave your patrons to enjoy their meal, and even from a distance Megumi can see the way your expression changes. He can see how startled you look as you catch sight of him.

You’re not wrong to look surprised, and he can’t help but blame you. He’s some man you’ve met twice now, the instances half a decade apart, who’s managed to track down your place of employment. But at the same time, Megumi can’t help but think that there’s a greater anxiety that underlies your wide-eyed expression—a more considerable fear that’s palpable, even from so far away.

You appear outside, wrapped up in a puffy jacket, a few minutes later.

“Hello, Fushiguro-san,” you greet him quietly, bowing a bit awkwardly in his direction.

He returns the greeting with your own name, and you look surprised that he knows it.

“What brings you here at this time of night?”

“Where’s Kota?” Megumi ignores your question in favour of one of his own.

Your lips pull into a thin line at the mention of your son.

“The obaachan who lives next door to us watches Kota when I work nights,” you say, and your tone is colder now. Sharpened like a blade you wield in defence.

An unpleasant silence wraps around you both, the discomfort and the tension of it nipping at your heels and urging you to run.

“That’s a lot of work for an old woman.”

“She’s happy to do it. Her children have all moved away,” you seem to only very narrowly be keeping resentment from your shaking voice.

“Why doesn’t Kota’s father watch him?” Megumi asks, and his gaze is level and unyielding as it meets your own.

Your jaw sets, and a flare of something white-hot and protective kindles behind your eyes. 

“He can’t.”

A car passes on the street behind Megumi, but neither of you pay it any mind.

“Why?"

“He’s busy.”

“Too busy to take care of his own child?” Megumi isn’t trying to sound so angry, but the emotion makes itself known in his voice without even trying. He doesn’t mean to antagonize you like this. It’s not what he came here to do. But he can’t seem to force himself to be direct with you.

“Yes.”

“Doing what?” Megumi presses again, unrelenting in his pursuit.

“Drop it,” you tell him warningly, hissing the caution through your teeth.

He doesn’t heed your words.

“Where is Kota’s father?” he asks one final time, and it’s the question that makes the fraying thread of your patience finally snap.

“Bothering me outside my place of work,” you hiss, your eyes narrowed and resentful. “Is that what you came here for? Are you happy now?”

Happy?

Megumi feels sick to his stomach, an almighty fwoosh wracking through him that makes him go week at the knees and threatens to make him heave up the meagre contents of his stomach in front of you, and this street, and anyone who has the misfortune of a window seat in the diner behind you. But he feels worse still when he sees the way tears are welling quickly in your eyes. When he spots the way you’re trembling.

You’re frightened.

Of him.

“Please,” you soften noticeably before his eyes, like he watches all your will to fight with him abandon you in real time. The deflation leaves you desperate when you speak again, crumpling in on yourself. You step up to him slightly, grabbing the sleeve of his coat as you plead to him. “Just go. Forget this ever happened. I don’t want anything from you. We don’t want anything from you. I-I take good care of him; he’s happy and healthy and we’re fine. I’m sorry that you found out like this, but I promise if you just leave now you don’t ever have to think of him—things can go back to how they were, and I’ll make sure we never cross paths again.”

Megumi tastes bile creeping up at the back of his too-tight throat, and his vision has gone fuzzy at the edges like he’s watching everything unfold through a tunnel.

All he can think about it the little boy with the bunny hidden under his raincoat. The racoon on his sweatshirt. The way he clung to him in his sleep.

“He’s my son?”

You pause, still holding tight to Megumi’s coat sleeve.

“Yes,” you reply quietly. “He is.”

He searches your face for any sign of duplicity, but he knows the truth. He knew it before you said it. Knew it from the moment he woke up in that cold sweat.

“You’re certain?”

He doesn’t pose the question with any ill-intent. Hardly conscious of the fact he’s asking it at all, or what the implications of such a question might be.

You flinch anyway.

“Yes, I’m sure.”

It’s quiet for a moment. Another car passes.

“He’s my son.” This time it’s not a question, but the words are brittle and breathless as Megumi speaks them. His chest aches, his head is pounding.

You’re still clutching his sleeve.

From behind you, at the corner of the building that leads to a narrow alley, a man in a stained apron with a cigarette in his hand calls your name. You whirl around in surprise.

“Break’s over!” he calls to you with a hand clasped around his mouth. He eyes you and Megumi warily, as though assessing whether or not he needs to intervene.

“Coming!” you call back to him with a blatantly forced chipper tone, waving at him with a strained smile on your face.

You turn back to Megumi, and let his sleeve slip from your grasp. The fake smile withers slowly until it disappears altogether.

“Please,” you repeat to him one last time, quieter now that the line cook is still lingering nearby, but no less desperate. “Just forget about this. About us.”

You turn to head back towards the restaurant, and Megumi lets you go.

Until he doesn’t.

“Wait.”

You freeze, but you don’t turn to face him again. He can see the way you hold yourself around your midsection, your shoulders slightly hunched forward like you’re bracing yourself for something.

“Come to the clinic tomorrow.”

“I work tomorrow.”

“Then come before you work. Or after,” Megumi can’t help but sound irritated at your refusal. He has a right to ask you more questions. To get more answers.

You glance at him over your shoulder, and you look wary.

“Kota goes to daycare at 8. It’s not far,” you say, though your tone is reluctant. “I can come just after that.”

The clinic doesn’t open until 9, so that works for him.

He nods curtly in agreement, and then you do the same.

The cook calls your name again.

You step towards the restaurant.

“The bunny’s doing well.”

You pause in your stride and turn back to Megumi with a look of surprise on your face—the most open, and least defensive expression he’s seen since the two of you began speaking.

Megumi struggles to meet your gaze now, and looks away briefly. He stuffs his hands in his pockets.

“You can… tell Kota that. If you want.” He glances fleetingly towards you, just in time to see the ghost of a smile flicker at he corner of your lips.

“I will,” you reply quietly. “He’ll be happy to hear that. Thank you, Fushiguro-san.”

Megumi watches as you skitter back towards the restaurant, bowing apologetically to the cook as you head quickly down the alley towards what Megumi can only assume is the staff entrance.

He turns on his heel on the sidewalk and heads in the direction of home, ignoring the gaze of your colleague as he walks away.

A son.

He has a son.

A little boy who looks just like him.

A little boy named Kota.

Megumi still feels sick, and his head is spiralling with a hundred questions he can’t begin to understand how to parse through in a coherent way. A hundred things he never dreamed he’d need to know. Never wanted to.

But he’ll see you tomorrow at 8AM, so as long as he makes sense of at least a few of the unintelligible questions running through his mind by then, he’ll finally have the chance to get some answers.

[sunmoonjune]

storm clouds at midnight

pairing: poly!ot8 stray kids x fem!reader [werewolf! au]

warnings: minors dni!! extremely suggestive themes!! there is no explicit smut, cursing, but it’s probably the closest to smut I’ve written, predator/prey, chasing, suggestive content is 100% consensual by all parties, vampires are assholes, fear, blood, biting, minor mentions of reader not liking their body (no reference to size/shape), the boys are dirty-minded, a lot of teasing, dirty talk, a little choking, sub!reader, seriously this is probably mostly definitely smut so minors dniI!! there are member x member relationships in this

word count: 26.3k (ok I know I’m insane)

a/n: ok,,, listen I was supposed to write like four other things and not this... but maxident came out and I've been in my skz feels sooo this is the result. also yes! this is in the same universe as dewdrops at dawn (two different places with two different views of the supernatural) also,,, I am physically incapable of writing non-soulmate au’s it seems 

again, this work is considered as suggestive, please do not interact if you are a minor. 

You knew the wolves were there from the moment you moved in. 

Even despite the little power you possessed, you could recognize the enchanting magical aura that lingered in the depths of the dark forest. Without a doubt in your mind, you knew that werewolves resided in the trees beyond your home. In the small clearing at the edge of the woodside town, you could feel the surge of power that marked the boundary of their territory. Despite lacking the keen senses of their kind, you can still feel the border flicker with their strength when you toe the line. 

The night after you first moved into the little cabin on the borders of town, your entire being could sense the moment the wolves descended on your new home. 

Eight forms hid in the darkness of the trees – keeping their bodies shadowed under the cover of night. You could feel their aura and their magic as they investigated your presence. They were scanning for trouble - that you could tell. As a witch, moving into the borders of their territory was bound to draw suspicion. 

Though you lacked immense quantities of magic, you still had the thrum in your veins and the swell in your chest that indicated your link to the supernatural. A witch was a witch, through and through - no matter how much magic they possessed. Despite the disdain of your spellbinding kin, the comfort of the sentiment allowed you to continue practicing using little magic you possessed. 

It’s long after midnight when you feel the auras descend upon your clearing. Eight werewolves, their strength and power undeniable as they linger on their own border. You can almost feel their eyes flickering over your body as they scan your small home. Their sharp pupils leave no belonging untouched. Each of your possessions is investigated for magical inclination. Despite the foreboding indication of their pack’s fortitude, there was some lingering sense of excitement when you felt their eyes on your form. 

You could not blame their caution. When another supernatural being moves into the borders of their territory, it was more than justifiable to investigate their prowess. However, it was not their discretion that caught your attention. 

Something fizzled in the air between you and the wolves, simmering as if connecting your emotions to the pack. It sets your body alight - every inch of your skin flickering with heat and your nerves humming with a warmth you could not place. In some way you did not yet understand, you were connected to this wolfish pack. 

Setting aside some fauna and other potion ingredients to be stored, you felt goosebumps prick under your skin when their gaze turned to your form. It was not an unpleasant feeling; rather one of unbridled curiosity. The notion of their eyes on your skin made you tremble with waves of both excitement and nervousness. They collided with each other in a storm of untapped emotion, and you vaguely wondered why the wolves’ presence made you react so strongly. 

When you carefully made your way out your back door, your slow steps were indicated by the crackle of leaves beneath your feet and the magical thrum in the air. You could feel the wolves’ apprehension in the way their own aura fidgeted, but you continued into your garden nevertheless. Under their direct gazes, something in your body hummed with delight. It was a little strange, and a more sensible part of yourself questioned the feeling. However, the magical pull overpowered that observation, and you found yourself peering into the woods - hoping to catch a glimpse of the wolves that caught your attention. 

They kept themselves well hidden. Your human eyes could not see as well as them in the dark, and you were left without a grasp of their forms. A lingering sensation of disappointment settled in your stomach, your lower lip pulling into your teeth in a pout at the feeling. 

The notion did not bother you as you understood their apprehension towards you, even despite whatever lingered in the air between you. With your limited ability, you pulled gently on the magical connection with your power. It simmered pleasantly between you, like a string that could not be severed. Pulled tight by the grasp of your magic, you felt your body shiver when one of the wolves responded with a deep growl. 

It was not a threatening sound - not necessarily. The sound rippled through the atmosphere with an air of warning. The leader of the pack was not comfortable with you messing around with magic upon your first meeting. The sensation rippled through your body and you felt your chest shake with his power. 

Holding your hands up with your palms out, you hummed quietly with apology. You had no intention of angering the wolves, simply wanting to understand the sensation that seemed to pull you closer. The sound seems to soothe the tension, hackles slowly lowering and magic softening in the air around you. 

From beneath the depths of the dark, wooden thicket, the pack leader stood strongly in front of his seven pack members. Chan had led his partners to the borders of their territory upon feeling the magical thrum of a witch in the air. He could sense the change in the atmosphere when you had arrived in their little town. Even without the bond that simmered between you and the eight wolves, Chan was exceptionally adept at deciphering the magical aura of supernatural creatures - a skill that came with being the Alpha of his pack. 

The shining silver of his wolfish coat was difficult to keep hidden under the moonlight, but Chan was careful. From behind the trees, he and his partners could easily investigate the homely wooden cottage the new witch had sequestered. 

His chest hummed with a pleasant feeling, one he knew connected him to the same witch they had come to examine. Though difficult, he buried it deep in his chest. There would be time to explore the connection later. 

“Careful, Jinnie,” his voice echoed through the link connecting each of the wolves. He addressed the dark form of Hyunjin, who had broken the line of his partners behind him. Though he kept low to the ground, Hyunjin had crept forward, seemingly very interested in the witch whose magic thrummed in the air around them. 

The dark fur of Hyunjin rippled under the alabaster shine of the moon, illuminating the pure muscle of his form. Hyunjin was one of the largest of their pack; his ebony coat standing tall over the bodies of his partners. He huffed at his leader’s call, seeming to shiver as another pulse echoed down the new connection between the wolves and you. 

Sending Chan a remarkably longing look for a wolf, Hyunjin backed away from the edge of the forest. He settles beside Felix, the younger shifting to rest his weight against his lover. The lighter brown color of Felix stood out against Hyunjin, and the darker wolf dropped his head to brush his nose against Felix’s muzzle. Inhaling a wave of his partner’s scent, Hyunjin relaxed some of his tensed muscles. Feeling some of the enticing turmoil seep from his form, Hyunjin let some of his own weight settle against Felix, knowing the younger savors any affection his lovers adore to provide. 

“She smells s’good, Hyung,” Jeongin, the youngest of the pack, rumbles. He stands at the rear beside Seungmin, both wolves a dark walnut color. Though they’re close, the elder of the two werewolves is less inclined to treasure affection. Seungmin leans away from the typical touch that his mates seem to adore. However, Chan and the others have known the wolf far too long to know that Seungmin only pretends to hate physical affection. He may whine when Chan wraps his body around him, but the eldest can feel the way Seungmin sinks into his form and how the bond between them warms. 

Chan’s only response to Jeongin is another hum. 

The silver wolf is too busy scanning your body, from where you have stepped out of your house to approach the tree line. Chan can tell that you know he and his partners are there. The bond wavers between you and Chan has to resist the pleasant shiver that thrums through him. Some of the others are unable to fight back the feeling, and Chan can feel Felix and Han’s excitement spike from their connection. 

The eight wolves stand at the ready. With your form slowly approaching the woods, another thrum of excitement echoes down both ends of the bond and this time it’s Minho that has to resist stepping forward. Whatever connection lingers between you is strong. The combination of your sweet scent and the magical connection is beginning to drive Minho mad. He swears he can almost feel the touch of your skin on his own despite the distance that separates you. 

As second-in-command, Minho stands at Chan’s side. The two are tense, but not out of apprehension – it seems all eight of the wolves are feeling the same thrum from your bond. 

At the edge of your yard, you slow to a stop. In the chilly night air, you rub your hands together for a little warmth, but find that whatever magic simmers in the air has kept you quite hot. Shifting on your feet, you attempt to find the eyes of any of the wolves that you can sense in front of you. 

You keep at least twenty yards between you and the wolves. Despite whatever connection you may have, you do not know how they will react if you approach closer. They are cautious of your magic - you can tell. Most supernatural creatures are. Though the notion saddens you, you can understand the apprehension; witches are typically solitary beings who don’t mix well with other supernatural creatures. 

Unable to find the irises of one of the wolves, you sigh and shift your own pupils to the floor beneath your feet. You mull over a few options in your head, attempting to find a solution. You want to show the wolves that you don’t mean any harm - that you’re more than willing to explore this newfound bond that seems to simmer in the air like it’s own magic. 

When an idea strikes you, you’re almost embarrassed to consider it. Heat rises to your skin and you feel a pulse of something hum in the air. 

Shifting on your feet, you lower your body a fraction in an attempt to appear smaller. Inclining your head, you tilt your chin to expose the skin of your bare neck: a show of submission. It’s awkward, but if you want to appeal to the wolves, you may as well act like one, you suppose. 

You feel a little odd as you stand, but after a solitary moment, the pleasant growl in response makes your knees weak. The sound seems to combine with a wave of heat and excitement that rolls through your body. Without even seeing the wolves with your own eyes, they seem to have a grip on both your mind and  body that you cannot fathom. 

From behind the trees, Chan has taken a step forward. At your show of submission, the pack leader cannot help the shiver of pride that echoes through him. Heat fills his form at the act, and the growl escapes his chest before he can stop it. He longs to break from the tree line. Every fiber in his being wants to step out and feel the skin of your form beneath his fingers. With your neck inclined towards him, proudly showing him the skin of your jugular, Chan’s fangs seem to press tight against his gums. They ache to sink into your skin – to mark you as his own, just as he has marked his partners, who stand at his side. It’s a little strange, as this is your first meeting, but Chan supposes the mating bond has something to do with it. He did, after all, mark Minho after their first meeting. 

Despite the heat that simmers under his skin, Minho can’t resist the chuckle that bursts forth at his Alpha’s reaction. Your show has affected their leader the most, as he is the head of the pack. Though he still feels the same pride and longing that fills Chan’s chest, it’s of a lesser degree and Minho can control the arousal that heats in his chest. 

“Careful, Chan-hyung,” Hyunjin playfully teases, throwing his leader’s previous words back at him. The intense aura of Chan’s emotions thrum in the bond between the pack, enticing all eight of the wolves to their Alpha’s dominance.

Turning to his partner, Chan snaps his jaws teasingly at the younger. Though the action is violent, Chan is careful not to harm any of his lovers with his sharp teeth - even when his dominance is questioned. 

“Shut it, Hyunjin. Or s’you I’ll sink my teeth into.” 

At his side, Minho and Changbin huff in silent laughter, enjoying the commotion at Hyunjin and their leader’s expense. Hyunjin is not affected by Chan’s threat, seeming to purr at the response. He steps forward with his head held high and sets his sights on his eldest lover. 

“Promise?” Hyunjin’s coo answers. 

He sends a flirtatious bolt of arousal down the bond he shares with Chan, feeling his entire body shiver pleasantly when his pack leader responds with a salacious look and a short, tempered growl. Chan’s response insights a promise - one he’s sure to fulfill when they return home. 

The other pack members huff good-naturedly, feeling the sweet effects of their partner’s banter warm their own chests. Minho enjoys watching Chan struggle with the emotions that simmer under his skin. Of course, it’s not in an antagonizing manner. Minho simply finds delight in challenging his pack leader's dominance – not in terms of pack order, but in more indecent manners. It’s always a battle between the two eldest wolves, and it’s usually difficult to determine who’s on the winning side. They both enjoy the thrill that comes with the frisky bickering. 

Changbin is the one to shift their attention. His eyes have not left your body, his senses trained pointedly on you. He’s laser-focused, analyzing each curve of your form and delighting in the way his wolf shivers at your scent. Darkened irises track your movement, inhaling a deep wave of your warm scent and enjoying the way his muscles relax when it wraps around his senses. 

“What do we do, Hyung?” his voice fills their heads. Shifting on his paws, Changbin itches to lunge into the clearing and claim you for his own. He promises he’ll share you, eventually – his other mates can wait their turn. 

Jisung trots up to Hyunjin’s flank, occupying the space on the opposite side of Felix. There’s a little tension between them – some sort of never ending love-rivalry making the two boys constant competitors. The younger chestnut colored wolf nudges Hyunjin with his shoulder. Hyunjin responds with a playful snap, already understanding what his younger partner is thinking. Jisung enjoys a chase as much as he enjoys competition, and Hyunjin knows he’s ready for both. 

Chan turns his focus back to your body. You’ve raised your head from its position, unsure of the wolves’ reaction. There’s a furrow in your brow and your lower lip is pulled into your teeth. You look apprehensive, as if their reaction is unclear. 

Standing tall and holding his head high, Chan lets his muscles relax from their tensed position. The heat still burns beneath his skin and a longing ache settles into his chest, but Chan knows it’s too early to pursue you as he and the others wish. You’re not wolfish as they are. 

If he and the others step out of the thicket of the trees, Chan fears they’ll scare you off. The courting customs of wolves are much different from humans - even if they are supernatural creatures of their own. If Chan is right - as he usually is - you may have an inkling of the bond, and that thought is enough to comfort him for now. 

For the meantime, Chan can only savor the waves of your scent as they reach him and his partners. It will be difficult to pull the others away, but Chan knows he can turn them towards each other to cope with the new yearning feeling that has settled in their chests. 

As he watches your hands drop to your sides with a wary look, a throb pangs in his chest. Heart surging beneath his ribs, Chan aches to make you smile once again. The apprehension on your face makes you look sad, and the expression makes him ache. 

Stepping forward with determination, Chan’s silver coat shines under the moonlight as he takes a single step towards the tree line. Felix yips once, a sound of mild concern for his eldest partner. Chan comforts his younger with a bolt of warmth down their bond, rumbling a purr to sate the sandy colored wolf. 

From across the yard, the gnawing feeling of trepidation sinks into your stomach. Despite the single sound from the pack leader and the wave of heat, you receive no other response from the wolves. The silence settles into the air and you begin to wonder if you’ve made a mistake. Your stomach twists as the moments of unsettling quiet sink into your mind. 

Then, you feel waves of warmth sink into you. A comforting blanket of affection sinks into your chest and your muscles melt into mush under the weight of the feeling. Your chest fills with delight and you nearly hum with the warmth heating you from the inside. The magic thrums in the air again, and you can tell the feeling was sent from the wolves. The sentiment strikes you with reassurance. 

In the darkness of the trees, you raise your eyes to the thicket of branches and greenery that bar your sight of the pack. Their magical aura still hums strongly, and you know all eight of the wolves still sit just behind the fauna, watching you. With the comfort from the pack leader, you raise your eyes to the dense woodland. Feeling sweet affection buzz under your skin, your irises scan the trees and feel a bolt of surprise strike you.

Behind the towering, coniferous trees, you catch a flash of silver. 

Shifting your gaze, you raise your sight to follow the shining color. Excitement fills your chest, settling atop the warm affection the wolves have given you. Then, from the darkness you catch a single, fleeting flash of onyx. 

Chan steps forward just enough. The alabaster moonlight illuminates just enough of his eyes and silver fur for you to set your sights on the barest glimpse of his darkened irises – his own act of reassurance. 

Your breath seems to leave your chest at the sight. You can’t see more than a single iris and the tiniest peek of glimmering fur, but it’s more than enough to leave you speechless. The glimpse, though short, is a message of the pack leader’s own. As he steps back into the trees, letting the darkness submerge his form once more, you understand. 

The pack leader has accepted you. 

You may not understand the waves of heat that suddenly fill your being, but their presence is a comfort you did not know you craved. Something in the air between you and the eight wolves hums violently and you find yourself reveling in its warmth. The longing surges with excitement, and you know the pack leader has incited a new challenge. You know enough about wolves and their customs to understand what will follow. 

It lingers in the atmosphere between you and the wolves and you nearly shiver with the thrill of this new adventure. 

The chase is on. 

Hyunjin and Jisung are the first. 

Three days after your first meeting, with the excited heat still warm in your chest, you venture into the wolves’ territory. Potions set aside for the evening, orders packed and cafe closed, you finally give into the yearning that has thrummed under your skin since that night. You could only take so much of the heat before you knew you would succumb to it.  

You don’t venture far into the woodlands, just a few hundred yards of dense trees lie between you and your little cottage. The air smells of coniferous pines and towering oaks. The chilly air settles into your lungs and you savor the clean scent. It feels freeing to explore the forest in the dark. All traces of apprehension and fear are wiped away with the presence of the wolves. This is their territory; you know you are safe as long as you remain inside their borders. 

Treading gracefully through the roots of trees and fallen pine cones, your thoughts are swept away by the rising excitement that begins to surge in your mind. You know the consequences that will follow your actions. 

You step into wolf territory, you are bound to be pursued. 

The thought is not frightening, but rather tantalizing. You are more than delighted to discover which of the eight wolves will come after you. With the enchanting bond that has settled between you and the pack, you know they would not hurt you for entering their territory. In fact, you know the consequences for your intrusion would be more enticing. 

The thought makes you shiver in delight. 

You understand that the wolves have marked you. There is no physical stain, but you know they have imprinted something to claim you for themselves. The bond is reciprocated, and you welcome the thought of the connection between you and the wolves. The thought of developing the relationship between you is exciting, and you want to see where it takes you. 

They wouldn't pursue you outside their own territory, you have learned. In the three days after your first meeting, they would never venture beyond their own borders. Every night, at least two wolves would settle at the tree line - waiting for something you did not understand. Sometimes they paced, impatient in their silence. On other nights, they stood solitary and quiet, keeping their eyes trained to your cottage as they waited for something – something you did not yet understand. 

On the third day, you finally deciphered their motive. 

The werewolves were not able to follow you outside their borders. Beyond the bounds of their territory, they were unable to shift into their wolfish forms, tied to the laws of the supernatural town in which you resided. Though it was occupied by more mythical beings than ordinary humans, there were still regulations in place to obscure the reality of supernatural creatures. They could not shift in front of humans. Outside their lands, they could not pursue you as they wanted, restricted by the laws of the land. In addition, despite the challenge incited by their pack leader, the wolves were courteous. They would wait for your acceptance before they started the chase.

So instead, they waited for you. 

When you ventured into the bounds of their land, you finally welcomed the unspoken challenge: they could have you if they could catch you. 

The chase incited a thrill, and you were excited to finally begin this new adventure. Aroused tension settled in your chest, and you buzzed with elation. Heat simmered between your thighs as you thought of what would occur should they catch you. Feeling your skin warm with embarrassed excitement, you shivered as you thought of the possibilities. 

You felt a little odd when you thought too hard about the situation, but something about the magical bond between you and the pack and the delight of a new adventure made you want to give into the primal urges. With the promise of something new, you felt an unexplained urge to pursue this new relationship as the wolves would. You wanted to explore their mating customs as much as your own, and the new discoveries made you buzz with heat. 

As you settled into a small clearing a few hundred yards from the one you resided, you slowed to a stop and scanned your surroundings. Magic thrummed in the air, and you knew the wolves were well aware of your presence. Regardless of the distance between you, you could feel traces of their emotions as if they were your own. 

It’s only a few moments later you feel the magical aura of two wolves. 

Hyunjin and Jisung were on border patrol that evening. 

They had been scouting the bounds of their territory as usual. Keeping an eye out for any changes and any new threats to enter their land, they walked with purpose and strength. Jisung, though still vigilant, was messing around as usual. The younger was inclined to teasing and playing around with his partners to reduce tension and fill the silence. 

When they’d first met, Hyunjin and Jisung had not been on good terms, and the younger’s playful nature had irritated Hyunjin. However, years of courting later, it was now one of the aspects Hyunjin treasured most. Though he fed into the playful rivalry, often butting heads with his younger partner, it was all in good fun. 

Jisung bumps purposefully into Hyunjin again, laughing with a yip when Hyunjin attempts to sink his teeth into the chestnut wolf’s neck in retaliation. It was difficult to not give into primal instincts when they messed around in wolf form. The urge to establish his dominance was strong, and Hyunjin almost nearly gave into temptation. He wanted to sink his teeth into his lover’s muzzle and stand over him with his strength and dominance surging beneath his skin. 

However, they were on duty. There were more important matters to attend to than sating their desires. 

“Hannie” Hyunjin playfully warned, the domineering sound echoing through the bond. 

The sound only made Jisung more excited. It always started the same. Jisung would tease Hyunjin until he snapped, and the two would give into the grasp of a carnal rivalry to sort their differences. 

Jisung hummed through their connection. He was still vigilant, keeping his senses turned to their borders as he should, but the excitement of his partner still pushed against the forefront of his mind. 

“What are you going to do, Hyung?” Jisung playfully taunted, stepping away from Hyunjin as his teeth attempted to close in on his scruff. “Aha! You missed!” 

It’s almost comical to watch Hyunjin’s wolf form roll his eyes. 

Continuing their patrol with Jisung’s taunts, a subtle whiff of scent stops Hyunjin in his tracks. The smell filters through his senses and the darker wolf is frozen still with his heart stuttering. 

“Hyunjin?” 

Jisung stops aside his lover, not understanding his sudden halt. He drops his nose to the dirt, smelling for whatever has startled his partner. Suddenly a little apprehensive, Jisung drops the teasing mood to shift into a ready stance. He inhales a wave of pine trees and traces of woodland creatures, filtering through the scents to find whatever has halted his lover. 

Then, Jisung finds it. 

Your scent filters into his senses and Jisung feels his body tense. Muscles tightening with preparation, the chestnut wolf understands Hyunjin’s halt. The excitement slowly filters into his mind, filling the bond between him and Hyunjin, 

You’ve accepted the challenge. 

They’re now free to pursue you as they wish. 

Hyunjin feels his stomach swell with a wave of salacious thrill. Your scent filters through his head and Hyunjin swears he’s never smelled anything more tantalizing. It’s as if you were teasing him with whiffs of your scent, enticing him and his partners to the chase. Hyunjin feels his body shake with the thought and his knees are weak with that weight of the bond. 

“Hannie,” Hyunjin murmurs, voice dripping with purring lust. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” 

He turns his head to face his lover, both their irises darkened with excitement. Bodies filled with the thrill that comes with a chase, Hyunjin feels a smirk pull at his lips. Jisung returns a similar look, sending a bolt of salacious heat down their own bond to make Hyunjin melt. Enjoying that look on his partner’s face, Jisung returns the sentiment. 

“First to catch her wins,” Jisung coos, feeling heat envelop him. “Last has to watch.” 

Hyunjin takes off first. 

Dirt kicks up from his feet, his muscles pumping as he follows your scent through the woods. Jisung is hot at his heels, an excited growl pushing from his chest as the thrill of the chase fills his mind. Giving into the desire that surges in the more primal part of his brain, Jisung feels the urge to howl to the darkened sky with excitement. 

Hyunjin feels his heart pump, hammering in his chest as his senses hone onto your scent. The delight seeps into the bond, and he wonders if you can feel their primal hunger from your position ahead. With his mind solely focused on pursuing you, Hyunjin’s consciousness filters through the thoughts of what he wants to do with you once he catches you. He feels the need push harder against his chest and his stomach turns with a heat. 

“Keep those thoughts to yourself, Jinnie,” Jisung warns with an informal tone, playfully mocking his elder. Hyunjin’s indecent thoughts subconsciously drift from his mind to his partner’s, his arousal warping his control of their connection. “After all, you’ll be the one watching when I fuck her.” 

Jisung’s words taunt Hyunjin, and the elder manages a gruff sound as he kicks up his pace. 

“As if!” 

Hyunjin’s head knocks back as he sprints through the thicket of trees, a primal howl leaving his lips as he pursues your scent. The sound is chilling, echoing through the forest and alerting the rest of his pack of the start of a pursuit. He feels the lingering excitement of the rest of his pack at the edges of his mind – their curiosity spiking as they sense the chase that has begun. However, Hyunjin doesn’t have the focus to think of their reactions, mind solely concentrated on being the first to reach you. 

Jisung is on his heels - literally. The younger attempts to cut his elder off at the ankles, playfully trying to take Hyunjin out of the race. The promise of being the first to sink his teeth into you is a notion that skews his mind and entices him to play dirty, Hyunjin dodges his attempt and a feral sound escapes Jisung’s lungs. 

Far ahead, your quiet night is startled at the sound of a wolfish howl breaking the silence. The alluring sound sends shivers down your spine as you feel several emotions strike you through the magical bond between you and the pack. Waves of heat filter through you and the thrill sinks into you with your stomach turning with a salacious thought. They’ve locked in on your scent.

The howl was a warning – the chase has started. 

You don’t know which wolves have been the first to feel your presence, but you can isolate their feelings in the connection from the others. The heat is easy to separate from the other six wolves, and you find yourself attempting to send a bolt of heat down the connection to entice them.

‘Come and get me.’

It must work, as another chilling howl breaks through the air. 

Shifting on your feet, you move quickly. They may be far away now, but the wolves move far faster than you. You know they’ll be on you in no time. 

Turning back the way you came, you take off on the balls of your feet. With your heart hammering with both the race and the excitement of the chase, you push yourself as fast as you can. Feeling the chilly night air fill your lungs with a startling cold, you break into a smile. Laughing freely, you leap over a broken tree branch as the heat in your chest swells. 

It’s only been a few moments, but you can nearly hear the thundering sound of their footsteps hitting the earth. They’re closer than before, catching up quickly as the prospect of your teasing nature entices them to run faster. There’s two of them, growling with a fierce but not scary sound as they follow your path with hearts racing and magical heat filling the air. 

Just a few yards behind now, you push yourself as fast as you can go. While the thought of being caught is exciting and you long for the indecent result of their capture, you know the chase will be much more fun in the long run. The thought keeps you running, feet slapping against the ground as you huff pants of air in an attempt to keep yourself running. 

You can hear them behind you. Wolfish pants leave their chests and the sound of one of their growls sends a bolt of heat between your thighs. The same wolf sends a lustful beat of heat through your bond, a deeper warmth making your knees weak at the lascivious feeling. It’s a dirty trick - one that almost works. 

But you’re so close. 

Just a few more meters and you’ll break through the tree line, into your clearing: your safe zone. You know the heat between your thighs will be a bother to deal with later, but the thought of what will happen in the long run is too promising an idea. 

You allow yourself a glance over your shoulder. Just a glimpse is all you want. 

At the sight of a dark onyx colored wolf on your heels, a chestnut one on his own, has your heart stuttering with a bolt of thrill. A smile stretching across your lips at the darkened look in their eyes and heat in your bond, you turn back to your front and keep pushing through the trees. 

Hyunjin feels his heart stutter as he realizes how close you are to their borders. Just a few more yards and he’ll lose his chance. The thought makes him growl fiercely. With a fleeting thought, Hyunjin realizes you’ve planned this. You have made sure to only venture so far into the woods, ensuring that you'll be able to escape their grasp just barely. In his frustration, Hyunjin feels his chest swell with desire. 

You’re smart. 

Sending his thoughts to his partner, Jisung hisses out a curse as you begin to slip from their grasp. Pushing himself faster, Jisung refuses to let you win. His lungs scream with each breath, but Jisung knows the prize will be oh so sweet. The thought of pressing his skin into yours and sinking his teeth into your throat in a mating bite has his mind going fuzzy. 

With his mind lost in thought, Jisung misses the moment you cross the borders of their territory. 

With a final pant, you dive across the line. Exhaling harshly and pushing a few feet into the clearing to give yourself space, you lean over and rest your hands on your knees as you breathe. Lungs screaming for air, you pant with a wide smile and heat between your thighs. 

Outside the borders of their land, you have won the first challenge.

You pant harshly and attempt to keep yourself from squirming under the carnal gazes of the two werewolves. The heat still sizzles fiercely under your skin and you have to resist rubbing your thighs together to cope with the ache. 

Hyunjin feels a shiver shake down his spine at your motion. His tongue swipes across his teeth and he swears he can taste your lustful scent in his mouth. Dark pupils nearly roll back into his skull and Jisung simpers at his side, pacing in his anger. 

“Ahh,” you sigh, voice weary from the run. “You two are quick.” 

Turning back to the trees, you spot the tense forms of the two wolves. They’re pacing, feet as close to their border as they can possibly get. Muscle ripples beneath fur and you know the darker wolf is holding himself back from transforming. The notion excites you, knowing he could turn back to his human form at any moment. Shivering with delight, you smirk at him. 

“But not quick enough.” 

Hyunjin snarls. His chest hammers and he can feel the disappointment seep into his head. The heat is still there, roaring under his skin and setting every nerve in his body alight. Jisung paces at his side, the same fire rippling under his own skin. The two wolves fight the urge to transform, longing and aching to continue their pursuit. Desire roars in their forms, keeping them pacing along the line of their territory in an effort to expel some of the heat. There's only so much they can do to keep them from ripping from their wolfish forms and crossing the border. 

“Hyung,” Jisung’s voice is dark and laden with a salacious weight, “Chan said-”

“To hell with what Chan said!” 

Jisung’s pacing seems to grow more fierce. Whipping his head back to his partner, Jisung feels his chest pull tight with both the weight of his arousal and the constraint of Alpha’s orders. 

“Hyunjin,” Jisung sternly murmurs. Despite the heat burning every nerve under his fur and your scent ensnaring his senses, the chestnut wolf manages to keep himself in control. He knows Hyunjin doesn’t mean the words that spill forth in his carnal rage. Too motivated by primal urges and the thrill of the hunt, Hyunjin lets his wolf speak for him. 

“Little fucking tease,” Hyunjin growls, feeling his wolf shake with the emotion.

Jisung growls another feral sound, and you smirk. The heat echoes through your bond and you feel excitement swell once more. Now that you’ve had a taste, you know you’ll never be able to give this up. This chase is the most thrill you’ve ever had - you’ll never be able to escape the heat from these werewolves. 

And you don’t think you want to. 

“Maybe next time, Boys,” you playfully murmur. “Let the others know I said ‘Hello.’”

Then you turn on your heel and disappear back into your little cottage, letting the heavy wooden door fall shut behind you with a final sound. 

With his heart hammering beneath his ribs, Hyunjin snarls with finality. Unable to accept his loss, the dark wolf whips around to face the chestnut fur of his mate. Jisung slows his pacing to face Hyunjin, head tilted to listen to what he has to say. 

In a wildly nimble move, Hyunjin turns quickly and sinks his teeth into Jisung’s chestnut scruff – a dominance bite. 

Jisung stills under his mate’s teeth, going limp in his grasp. He whimpers quietly, his lust warping as Hyunjin growls into his skin. The burning fire in his chest transforms from dominance to submission in one quick moment. Hyunjin has Jisung under his body, his body rippling as he stands over his partner with desire sizzling through their bond. Jisung is sure you can feel it - just as he knows his other six mates can. 

“Hannie,” Hyunjin purrs, voice echoing in the younger’s mind, “If I can’t have her tonight – then m’gonna have you.” 

Your next encounter with the wolves is a few days later. 

After the first chase, you were unable to shake off the exciting feeling for hours. The adrenaline and surge of sweeping heat kept you in its grip the entire evening. In fact, you were quite certain the two wolves were using the magical bond to tease you long after you had separated. The bond continues to thrum and seize with waves of emotion that keep you awake, swimming in the depths of their pleasure.

Heat addled your body, leaving you sweating in your sheets and panting in the darkened hours of the evening. Though uncomfortable, you could not seem to hate the feeling. The goosebumps that scattered your skin beneath the heat were not unpleasant - merely sensitive, as was any touch against your warming skin. 

After a few hours, you deciphered that the werewolves were toying with you. They kept you awake with the same rush of emotion you had incited in their bodies earlier that evening. Sitting upright in bed, you huffed a sigh as you came to the conclusion.

Shortly after, you came to another decision. 

You were going to start playing dirty. 

So, a few days later, when you had another chance to venture into the woods, you were well prepared to ensnare the wolves as they had you. In a loose dress that fell below your knees, you could barely resist the surge of pride in your chest as you maneuvered through the forest with a hum. 

The idea had struck you not long after you finally fell into the clutches of sleep that night. You knew it was a crazy idea, one more filthy than anything you had ever concocted before. While you were nervous, the waves of apprehension still rolling in your stomach, you were also very excited to see their reactions. 

As you found your way into the same clearing you had discovered a few nights ago, you shivered once in the night air with the dregs of worry seeping away from you. This was a crazy idea – one you would only be able to invent in your wildest dreams. You never imagined you would ever do something such as this, but it seems meeting the werewolves was a discovery that would help you explore new facets of life as well as within yourself. Perhaps your meeting was not so accidental. 

Shivering once more, this time with bursts of excitement, you shimmied your legs and maneuvered out of the simple pair of cotton panties you had donned that evening. Heat rose into your face at the action, your ears burning as you finally pulled them off your legs. You felt a little obscene but you found that you were not averse to the new feeling. 

When the dark material of the black cloth reached your eyes, you felt a burst of bubbling feeling in your chest. Beneath your ribs, both an anxious and an excited feeling slammed together in a stormy collision. You could barely keep yourself still as the adrenaline began to sink into your being. 

Stepping towards a raised stump on the forest floor, you felt the edges of a smirk pull on your lips. The darkened bark covering the stump was barely visible in the moonlight, but you found you did not have much trouble maneuvering in the lack of light. Placing the cloth onto the stump, where you were sure it would not be obstructed, you stepped away with an assured sigh. 

Content with your plan, you laid in wait for whichever wolves would be your predators tonight. 

The werewolves in question were not far from your little seclusion. Minho, the pack’s second-in-command, leads the two youngest through the trees. Thickets of green coniferous branches surround the three werewolves, each section of the woodland looking not so different from the next. Minho and the others, however, were well aware of their position. They knew this forest like the back of their hands – likely able to maneuver through the thicket without the aid of their eyes. Minho swears he could follow the entirety of the borders of their territory by scent alone. 

Jeongin and Seungmin follow behind Minho, the two youngest speaking quietly to each other as they scout for their patrol. Minho is quiet, allowing his partners the hushed conversation - finding he greatly enjoyed listening to their voices fill the silence of the night. As he led the way, he kept his attention split between the pleasant sounds of his younger mates and the sounds of the forest around them. 

Jeongin’s lighter walnut-colored coat pressed into Seungmin’s darker fur as they walked, leaning into him for a moment before stepping away. Both of the younger’s were considered less physically affectionate than some of their older partners. However, that did not mean they were ever far apart for long. 

They spoke quietly about Hyunjin and Jisung. The two wolves had returned from patrol long after they should have; fur ruffled and smelling of sweat and indecent substances, Hyunjin had smirked at his other lovers. He recounted the events that had led to their return, speaking joyfully of the chase that had occurred and gruffly admitting that you had escaped outside their territory at the last moment. 

Minho had let out a gleeful chuckle at the younger’s admission, laughing heartily at their expense. Hyunjin and Jisung had rolled their eyes, knowing their partner had an inclination to tease. The second-in-command took great pleasure in poking fun at his partners: a love language of sorts. 

Had Minho known he would be the next to fall victim to your game, he would have teased the two less. 

It’s only a few moments later that Minho lifts his head, picking up the slightest hint of your sweet scent. It filters through his senses, seizing his mind and shifting his attention. Seungmin and Jeongin are at his side a moment later, coming to a halt as they lift their noses to the sky. 

Inhaling deeply once, Seungmin picks up the same inkling his elder has likely discovered. Feeling a wave of delight shiver through him, Seungmin turns to face his two partners with what looks like a wolfish grin. He shifts on his paws, testing his weight as his muscles prepare to launch. 

“Hmm,” Jeongin hums with his eyes closing in a blissful feeling, “She’s s’sweet, Hyung.” 

Minho responds with a chuff, shaking his coat in an attempt to clear his senses. Pawing at the ground, he feels the dregs of the thrill of the chase begin to form in his stomach. As second-in-command, Seungmin and Jeongin will wait for his word before either of them move. The notion makes Minho shiver – he greatly enjoys the dominance. 

“You smell her, Minnie?” the youngest questions. 

Seungmin responds with a purr of his own, sweeping his head to the ground to breathe another wave of your scent. He feels light-headed, the notion of your proximity making him feel weak. Leaning into Jeongin’s side, he looks to Minho as he speaks through their connection, “She’s close, Hyung.” 

Minho nods his head, chocolate colored fur shimmering in the light of the moon. You’re only a mile or two ahead, he surmises. Downwind from your position, they can breathe your scent clearly in the night air. Underneath your pleasant scent, Minho picks up the challenge. The traces are obvious in both your sweet smell and though the bond. As he tugs his end, Minho feels a feral grin overtake his features at your alluring pull in response. Though you’re likely unaware of the reality of the bond, you definitely understand how to manipulate the metaphorical string. 

“It seems Hyunjinnie wasn’t lying,” he murmurs with a smirk. “Are ya’ ready? She wants a chase.” 

Seungmin is quick to respond with a deep growl, his younger mate springing to his side with a similar sound. Setting his shoulders back and getting ready to pounce off his feet, Jeongin gives Minho a silent look of confirmation.

Then the three wolves are springing forward, launching towards your direction with a ferocity surging from deep within them. 

You can tell the moment their pace picks up speed from your position. Despite being so far, the enchanting change in the air and the burst of emotion in your chest is indicative of the shift. Feeling the adrenaline begin to pump through your veins, you let a sprawling grin take over your cheeks as you turn back towards your cottage. 

Shooting a last glance at your ‘gift,’ you turn on your feet and start running. They may be a mile behind, but you know their superior speed and strength will catch up to you quickly. When the night air rushes past you with a chill, you grin as howls fill the silence of the forest. 

The chase is on once more. 

Blood pumping and breaths coming out in pants, you feel the thrill overtake your body. It’s so alluring to feel the delight overtake you in these moments. With the new bond roaring beneath your skin and your mind racing, you leap through the little path you’ve memorized. Soaring over fallen branches and hooting with glee, you let your voice fill the sounds of wolfish howls. 

Minho’s heart stutters as your own elated sounds echo after their primal ones. Pushing himself faster, he can sense your proximity – not too much farther from him now. He won’t let you get away, not like the others did, 

Jeongin and Seungmin respond with their own ecstatic hoots, picking up their pace as the elder did. Their own emotions surge and swell in a mighty storm, feeling lighter than they’ve ever been as they race through the towering pines. 

These three are quick, you realize as you close in on your cottage. They’re coming closer than the previous two had. With your heart slamming in your chest and stomach twisting with glee, you attempt to push yourself a fraction faster. Your lungs scream for air, as if the mouthfuls you inhale aren’t enough. However, you know the reward is far too sweet to give in just yet. 

With a few yards left, you think you can feel the hot breaths of the lead werewolf across your back. Skirt twisting in the wind, you feel your heart skip a beat as you decipher how close they are from you. Heart in your throat, but not uncomfortably, you judge how far you are from the boundary line. It’s not far, but the wolves are even closer. 

Nerves alight and goosebumps breaking across your skin, you decide to take a chance. With the tree line coming into view, you feel the forms of the wolves closing in. Oh, they’re much quicker than the other two – or perhaps less competitive. It seems the playful rivalry between the two previous wolves had impeded their ability to catch up to you. 

With their forms coming too close, you suddenly dive to the side. Feet skidding across the dirt, you almost topple over in an attempt to catch yourself from the risky maneuver. As you try to keep yourself upright, you spot the dark chocolate color of fur fly by your side. The lead wolf shoots by, missing your form as you dove to the side. He lets out a shout of surprise, claws skidding across the dirt as he spins back to face you. 

You smirk as you pick the pace back up. He’d played right into your trap, giving you the precious few moments you needed to cross the boundary line. Panting harshly and grinning in accomplishment, you throw your head back with a gleeful victorious shout. 

“Fuck!” Minho snarls. He’d fallen for your ruse. Hyunjin had been right - you were cunning. As he paces the boundary line with a defeated growl, he can’t help but admire how wolfish you look in your pride. The heat under his skin still simmers vibrantly, but Minho is adept at keeping his feelings under control. 

You turn back to the brown wolf, grinning brightly at his darkened irises and tense shoulders. Despite the monstrous look, you find you’re not at all afraid of the wolves. You are well aware they would never lay a hand to harm you. The magical thrum connecting you and the eight speaks to that promise. 

Giving Minho a smug look, knowing he doesn’t yet know of your plan, you watch him pace the line once more. Delight surges in your chest and the feeling is alluring. 

“Alright, Sweetheart,” he hisses to himself, “You win this one.” 

Defeat is not a pleasant feeling, but Minho admits that the chase had been thrilling. Adrenaline still pumps through his system and he feels the enchanting allure that Hyunjin and Jisung had spoken of. It had been more than fun to pursue you through the trees, keeping your back in his view and tasting you on his tongue, Minho had never felt more alive. Though he’d failed to catch you, Minho too, knows the reward will be so much sweeter than the chase. 

One day, he promises – one day, he’ll tear you apart. He can’t wait for the moment you lie beneath his form – weak to his whims and head thrown back in pleasure. Minho swears he will never see a more beautiful thing. Your beauty is perhaps only rivaled by that of his other partners. 

You don’t say anything to Minho this time, knowing he has yet to discover your trick. The two other wolves are not behind him, and you are fairly certain of what has caught their attention. The chocolate wolf does not seem to realize their absence yet, but you turn back to your homely cottage with a grin, waiting for the discovery to sink in. 

When the door falls shut behind your form, obscuring your body from his sight, Minho finally realizes his younger partners are not behind him. Shaking off the lusty haze that blurred his mind, he turns back to the darkened pines at his rear. Stepping back into the depths of their territory, Minho reaches out through the bond for Jeongin and Seungmin. 

There’s a strike of worry in his chest, the pang hitting uncomfortably in his ribs as he scans the trees for his younger mates. 

However, before he has a chance to call for them, the two wolves are bursting through the trees in front of him, already transformed into their human forms. Standing on two legs and feeling the night air brush against his bare skin, Jeongin’s eyes are blown wide. Darkened pupils fill the space of his irises, overtaking the space with lust clear in the swirling depths. He clutches something tightly in his fist, as if protecting the item of his desire. 

The youngest stumbles as he comes to a stop, clearly affected by something that has overtaken his senses. Jeongin’s head feels as though it may burst. It’s overcrowded with thoughts of you and the article of clothing he grips firmly in his fingers. It still smells fresh, as though you had only taken it off moments ago, and the thought makes Jeongin weak in the knees. It overpowers his very being, setting each of his nerves on fire with blazes of indecent emotion. 

Seungmin looks no different, panting breath and eyes wide, he stalks towards his lover with a salacious look. 

“Hyung,” he nearly whimpers, breath catching on the word. His chest is tight and his voice breathy. Speaking feels all too much, and as he inhales, he catches another deep whiff of the cloth clutched in Jeongin’s fingers. Feeling his knees go weak, he shivers in delight and leans into Minho, who has quickly shifted back to his own human form. The elder catches Seungmin in his arms, feeling his skin buzz at the connection. 

Eyebrows furrowing, Minho turns to look back at Jeongin with confusion evident in his features. He’s still reeling from his defeat, but the look on Seungmin’s face has bewilderment swirling in his chest. Jeongin looks back at his mate with a haughty smirk on his face, shining teeth catching in the light as he grins with lust evident. 

“Pretty Girl left us a gift, Hyung.” 

With his chest surging with carnal desire, Jeongin holds out his hands and lets the scraps of inky black fabric fall into the open air. Minho feels the breath leave his lungs as the scent that clings to the cloth seeps into the air, filling his chest and making his knees tremble. Now truly understanding Seungmin's squirming form, Minho lets his eyes trail from the pair of black panties in Jeongin’s grasp to the path that leads back to your humble cottage. 

With an enraged snarl, Minho feels desire warp his being as he shakes. 

“That fucking slut!” 

His words aren’t malicious, but Jeongin still shivers with the weight of them. The two younger werewolves are well aware of the indecent names that fall from Minho’s lips in the heat of the moment – they’ve both been on the receiving end more than once before. 

“Smells s’fucking good, Minho,” Seungmin simpers, sinking into his parter as his head swirls. “M’gonna go crazy, I swear” 

Minho knows all too well the feeling that warps Seungmin’s conscious, for the same emotion swirls in his own mind; it makes him dizzy and he has to step backward to balance himself. Your fresh scent is everywhere, it tingles on his tongue and he shakes with the feeling. He barely maintains control of his wolf, begging to break free and howl with desire into the chilling night air. Swaying on his feet, Minho is surrounded by you. There’s hints of his lovers intertwined in your scent, and Minho feels as though his heart may burst with both arousal and affection. He can smell stains of your arousal in the fabric and Minho understands what it feels like to lose his mind. 

Shaking his head to clear his senses, he tries to keep himself upright. It does not work, but Minho swears he can keep himself together for a few more minutes. 

“C’mon - Chan’s gonna want to see this.” 

Jeongin audibly whines. Seungmin’s throat hurts when he echoes a similar sound. It cuts short when Minho’s big fingers pull at the back of his neck, scruffing him despite the lack of their wolfish forms. Seungmin’s whine cuts short, going limp into Minho’s arms. 

“Minho-” Jeongin whimpers, feeling the desire surge again. He’s not quite sure he’ll be able to make it all the way back to the pack house in this state. His legs are weak and he feels as though you’ve sent him into a premature rut. 

Minho huffs a snarl, sending Jeongin a look. As second-in-command, his word is final. However, Minho is not cruel. He may be teasing with his dominance, but Minho knows when enough is enough. Duty always comes first in his mind – desire must fall second for the moment. With a smirk, Minho pulls Seungmin up his chest a little. 

“Enough. We report to Chan, and then you two are mine.” 

And the second chase ends quite similarly to the first. 

When Minho returns from patrol that evening, practically dragging his two younger mates by their scruffs, Chan looks up from his place by the kitchen counter with interest. He could tell something had changed in their bond, an electric fizzling that felt much like arousal had filtered through each of the wolves not long ago. However, Chan could feel a new and exciting rush of emotion that he rarely experienced. 

Unsure of the change that had occurred, he perked up when the door opened. It nearly slammed against the wall with the force at which Minho had flung it open. His second-in-command is visibly trembling, barely keeping himself at bay against the torrent of emotion that wrecks his form. Eyes blown wide and darkened pupils enlarged, Minho looks feral. 

“Minho?” Chan questions, standing from his position to step towards his partner. He’s confused and a little wary, unsure of the events that have led to such a reaction. 

From over Minho’s shoulder, Chan catches a glimpse of his two youngest mates. They’re leaned against each other, barely keeping themselves upright and pressing every possible inch of skin together. It seems as though they cannot bear to be apart. Their eyes are a mirror of Minho’s – pupils dilated and blown wide with lust swimming in their murky depths. 

Jeongin audibly whimpers under Chan’s gaze, his head tilted to bare his neck - where Chan’s mating mark glistens with a glimpse of sweat. The other wolves have their own; seven marks dwell on each of them, but only Chan’s mark sits in the crevice between shoulder and throat: the mark of an Alpha. 

Chan feels his own arousal spike at Jeongin’s show of submission, but the pack leader attempts to shake off this feeling until he understands the situation better. His stomach twists with the feeling, but Chan buries it deep. Seungmin is seemingly not paying attention. His eyes are foggy with lust gripping him tight, and Chan knows he will not get an answer from him. 

“S’going on?” Chan tries again, stepping forward towards Minho once more. It’s clear the three wolves are ensnared in desire’s hold, but there’s still something missing – something that has happened on their evening patrol. 

Minho’s hazy eyes glint in the light and a smirk lifts the corner of his mouth. Chan feels apprehension swirl in his chest at the expression, wondering if he even wants to know the answer to his own question. 

“Our little angel left a present for us tonight, Hyung.” 

The furrow in Chan’s brow seems to deepen at Minho’s comment. The pack leader is well aware of the challenge he has set forth - just as he knows of the first chase that occurred between you, Hyunjin and Han. He had been extremely pleased to understand that you were seemingly delighted to accept the mating bond. Wolves were strange creatures, and their courting customs were even odder. At first, he’d been unsure if you understood the challenge he issued upon your first meeting. 

However, when Hyunjin and Han returned to their home a few days later with their eyes blown wide and frenzied smiles on their lips - just as Minho and the others do now, Chan knew you were fully aware of the decision you had made. If the deepening breadth of the magical bond between you was any indication, you wanted this as much as they did. 

“A present?” Chan’s rumbling voice sounds. 

Minho’s vague response only leaves the pack leader with more questions, and Chan steps forward again to press his second-in-command further. The implication of a second chase had been obvious, and your teasing nature would be enough to leave his mates in a carnal frenzy. However, he was not prepared for how cunning you could be when it came to driving his mates mad. 

As he approaches his partner, Chan is halted when he picks up hints of your scent in the air. Just a glimpse of your serene smell is enough to stun him. It addles his senses, blurring his thoughts as they begin to transform into images of you. Chest beginning to ache with a burning longing, Chan shakes his head to clear his mind. 

Minho, barely clutching to the remnants of his ever-slipping sanity, smirks with a mirthful look and reaches his hand out towards his eldest lover. The pack leader can tell the waves of your scent originate from Minho’s closed fingers, and like a wolf tracking its prey, Chan’s eyes lock onto the outstretched appendage. 

Chan is so desperately unprepared for the barrage of emotions that crash into his mind when Minho’s fingers unfurl: revealing a dark onyx pair of panties, still overflowing with your fresh scent and clearly brimming with implications of your desire.

Minho has never seen his Alpha so weak. 

With his consciousness still blurry and body barely held back by the grip of his sanity, Minho watches his mighty leader tremble at the knees. It’s nearly instantaneous; Chan’s pupils dilate - the darkness in the inky masses overtaking the color that once shone lightly. His shoulders go lax and Minho can already smell the waves of lusty pheromones that Chan has unconsciously started releasing. 

From behind him, Jeongin and Seungmin keen, finally collapsing into a heap at their Alpha’s strong scent. Whining and pushing into each other, they rub bare skin against each other in the hopes of releasing some of the heat that burns so strongly under their flesh. Minho nearly gives in to temptation – he wants nothing more than to turn and descend upon his partners, letting the whim of desire command his next movements. 

Yet Minho is infatuated with the look that has fallen over Chan’s features. 

He cannot tear his eyes away from his pack leader, watching with a bated breath as Chan steps toward him. Under his primal gaze, Minho has never felt more weak to his pack leader than now. Somewhere deep in his gut, Minho feels a prick of excitement filter through him. Usually so dominant, the second-in-command is a little eager to see what happens next. 

A hungry, desperate sound escapes Chan’s lips when he halts in front of Minho. Skin almost touching, Minho extends his fist once more at his leader’s call. Offering the scraps of ebony cloth to Chan, Minho feels his spine shiver when Chan’s skin rubs against his own as he pulls the article into his grasp. 

“Fuck.” 

The sound is so unlike Chan. Minho had expected him to sound so much more daunting - as he himself had been filled with primal anger not so long ago. This sound, however, is so much weaker. The word escapes Chan’s lips barely louder than a whisper. It’s a weak sound, almost a whimper falling from his lips with a desperation Minho has seldom seen. 

Chan is overflowing with emotion, and he suddenly understands why his mates had been so unruly when they returned to the house a few days ago. 

His chest aches and surges with a torrent of desire and longing. Your scent surrounds him and Chan thinks his wolf may burst forth and take over the last threads of his dwindling sanity. Such a little thing, he manages to think – such a little thing can destroy them so easily. 

Only a moment later, Chan recedes back into himself. Transforming back into the dominant pack leader the others are used to, Chan growls out an angry, desperate sound. 

“Fuck!” 

He repeats the word, this time with the carnal rage Minho had been expecting. With shivers rolling down his back, the bond surges with emotion. Likely radiating to the rest of the pack, Chan sighs a deep whiff of your scent and lets himself sink into your aura. 

“Hm, this s’how she wants t’play?” he murmurs, feeling himself fade into the grip of desire. Chan lets his wolf press against the forefront of his mind, allowing it to control his carnality. Descending on Minho, his teeth ache against his gums as he presses his canines into his mate’s skin. Still human, they scrape against the smooth skin of Minho’s neck, and the younger grunts under the pressure, but does not move. Chan’s next words are moaned into Minho’s skin, gripping his partner tight to his body with your panties still clutched in his fist. 

“Oh, we can play dirty, Baby.” 

Letting out a huff as you stretch to reach the heavy bag of sugar on one of the taller shelves, you pull down the item and set it on the counter before you.

The cafe always slows down around the afternoon. You’re open later into the day, but there’s often time to restock and compile things in the back room as the hours get later. Not as many customers filter through your sweet little shop in the afternoon, but that’s no bother to you. It gives you more time to start ‘special’ brews in the back – potions and elixirs of the sort. 

While you operate as an ordinary cafe during the day, the evenings are targeted towards the supernatural. It’s not well advertised, but other creatures know what to look for. Commissions for specific potions and special elixirs are just the start of the wonders you can brew in the afternoon hours. 

You had just completed a very complex potion - one that had taken you nearly a month to finish with the utmost care. It had been an expensive request, but one you were more than willing to perfect for a friend. A potion of immortality; not an easy potion to brew, and even more difficult to prepare correctly. The commission had nearly run you dry of ingredients, and frustrated you to no end. Yet, they had compensated for your troubles with far more payment than you would have asked. 

Of course, when eight demons - let alone the eight princes of Hell itself - knock on your door and make a request, you were more than willing to drop everything to assist them. 

Besides, they were friends. You’d even given their sweet soulmate some mirthful advice when she had approached you a few weeks back – something about a salt circle and how it would hold against the High King of Hell. 

When the bell to the door jingles loudly from the front room, you look up from the counter. The sugar emptied in its proper storage container, you throw the bag into the waste bin and tie your apron tighter around your waist. Preparing to meet the customers who have entered your shop, you suddenly feel a wave of familiarity overtake your body. 

Fingers stilling on the tie of your apron, you inhale a deep breath and feel the recognizable aura of your wolves filter through you. The bond tugs teasingly from their end, and you're suddenly aware you’ve never seen any of the werewolves outside their territory. 

The thought is both daunting and exciting. Unbound by the laws that prevent them from pursuing you in wolfish form, you shiver at the thought of what mischief they will get up to now. You find yourself surging with delight and anticipating, wanting to see their human forms as well as finally speak to them.

You only recognize one of the auras behind the door that separates you from the front room. There's two other werewolves with him, but you can feel the familiar teasing bond that connects you to one of the wolves from the first night. You cannot tell which it is, as their auras had blended together that night, but you know for certain one of them lies beyond the wooden frame. 

Inhaling deeply to soothe the worried excitement and build your confidence, you step forward and push open the folding door to the backroom. 

There’s no one else in the cafe - tables empty of patrons and cleared of dishes for the afternoon. The only forms in your little building are the bodies of the three werewolves that stand at your counter, smiles on their lips and something glistening deep in their irises. 

You have to prevent yourself from staring. 

The three men at your counter are breathtakingly attractive. Your breath is nearly stolen from your lungs at the sight of them. The one standing in front is the shortest of the three, but he is outstandingly the most muscular. His biceps bulge underneath the dark shirt squeezing them, and you have to avert your eyes to keep yourself from lingering on their shape. His lips raise at the corner when he notices how your eyes have to shift away. Dark hair shifting when his head tilts, he looks incredibly alluring in the light of the afternoon.

Behind him, a slightly taller man stands with a wide grin on his lips, and you suddenly feel as though the sun itself has graced you with its warmth. 

His longer blondish, silver hair rests against his neck, blending beautifully with the smooth skin and darker freckles that coat his cheeks. Teeth white and shining in his sweet grin, you feel warm from the inside out under his eyes. This man is the embodiment of sunshine - and he radiates kindness coupled with a teasing mirth that you can only detect through the bond that buzzes between you. He’s so alluring, you have to shift your gaze to the final man to break your concentration. 

The blonde is leaning against the tallest of the three - and with a stuttering breath, you realize this is the larger black wolf that pursued you during the first chase; the one who stalked the edges of their territory, attempting to lure you back into his grasp with bolts of arousal sent down your bond. You remember his dark eyes and his dominating aura, feeling waves of thrill filter through your stomach at the memory. 

He stands to the side, his arm wrapped around the blonde’s waist with a smirk pulling the side of his mouth upward. When a rolling burst of delight shivers down your spine, you feel his satisfaction swarm you. You recognized him, and the thought makes him keen. 

The tallest of the three is beautiful in a way that makes you hesitate. He’s princely – dazzlingly pretty with smooth skin and the top of his long blond hair pulled into a ponytail behind his head. Strands of his bangs frame his face, dangling in front of his eyes as a headband holds the rest back from falling from its place behind his head. He regards you with a confident, sultry look that makes your legs weak. There's a little dark, freckle beneath one of his eyes and you are overcome with the urge to press your lips against it. 

As if he can read your mind, his head tilts with another smirk. Eyes racking over your form, you shiver again and the sight seems to excite him more. 

With excitement prickling under your skin, you manage to step forward around the counter with a smile pulling at your lips. 

“Hello,” you murmur sweetly, feeling genuine happiness at their arrival. “Can I help you three?” 

Stepping forward to greet them, you feel another beat of delight pull you nearer to their forms - almost as if their very existence draws you closer. The tallest hums, the sound warm as he regards you. His voice is nearly a purr when he answers you. 

“Oh, you most certainly can.” 

“Hyunjin!” the blonde murmurs with a smile, digging his fingers into the taller’s side. “What happened to ‘going slow?’”

You giggle fondly at their display, covering your mouth with your hand. The two look up from each other with their eyes glimmering. Looking back at you with smiles stretching across their lips, they seem to adore the sound that falls from your lips. 

“S’alright,” you tease, “I suppose there’s nothing ‘slow’ about how we met before, so there’s no need to hesitate now.”  

Hyunjin, the wolf you met the first night, smiles even wider at your words. Satisfied with your response, he looks back at his younger partner with the same grin. ‘See?’ the teasing look seems to say. 

The darker haired man in front rolls his eyes playfully. The action does not seem annoyed, more so mirthfully done as he appears used to the two’s antics. Uncrossing his arms from across his chest - an action you find yourself missing as your eyes leave his chest - he reaches a hand out with a smile of his own. 

“Changbin,” he offers with a deep voice. “We figured we should probably formally introduce ourselves if our ‘meetings’ are going to continue.” He says the word with a honeyed, crooning sound - one that makes your stomach turn with heat. 

You reach out your own hand with an offer of your own name, gently grasping his fingers as you speak. As your hand closes around his, you feel a striking beat of heat in your chest. You look up at him in surprise, and are met with a smirking smile. He seems to completely understand the feeling, as a pleased sound escapes his lips. You eye his hand with a look, then turn back to him with a questioning, teasing look. 

He shrugs off the look, letting you know it would likely be explained later. When he lets go of your hand, you miss its warmth and the flood of pleasant emotion that came with it. 

Though, his partner steps forward next, offering his own to replace the loss. 

“M’Felix,” he adds happily. His voice is deep, and you feel like you’re drowning in the waves of his soothing voice. You feel the same warmth filter through you at his touch. He truly is sunshine incarnate. When the same bolt of heat sinks into you upon contact with his hand, you feel it settle low in your stomach as you crave more of it. 

With his smile brighter than any other, you feel a strange urge to squeeze his soft cheeks and scatter the freckles and sunspots with kisses. It’s a little strange to have such thoughts upon your first meeting, but you suppose this magical bond is much odder. 

The last of them, Hyunjin, steps forward finally. His hand leaves Felix’s waist with difficulty, almost as if separating from him is painful. Yet, he reaches his hand out all the same. Long fingers dangling in front of you, you regard him with a mirthful look - one he happily returns. 

“Hyunjin.” 

You wrap your fingers around his hand, finally shivering in delight as you finally put a face to the name of the wolf who had chased you not so long ago. His touch is remarkably sweet despite the roaring pleasure that seems to spawn from it. Hyunjin seems to send the heat down the bond as he touches you, more than ecstatic to finally touch you after being deprived that night. 

“S’nice to finally put a name to a face,” you playfully respond. “Or - snout, I suppose.” 

Hyunjin offers a little growl, teasingly pulling you a fraction closer. His voice drops back to a purr, honeyed sound echoing through you as he speaks. 

“So you do remember me?”

“I remember you losing,” you respond with mirth in your voice, having to turn away from his darkened irises as you speak. Being this close to him makes you weak in a way you could not have previously imagined. It’s a wonder you’re able to respond without your voice shaking. 

“Oh, do you?” 

Hyunjin hums deep in his chest, the sound nearly making you tremble with delight. His hand has not left yours, but you don't want it to. You adore the feeling of their skin against yours, and you find yourself not wanting it to leave. 

Felix huffs a laugh into Changbin’s shoulder, leaning into his older mate with a grin. It’s very funny to watch the two of you playfully bicker. Changbin feels a smirk of his own drift onto his cheeks. It’s nice to see someone put Hyunjin in his place; as if he doesn’t get enough of that from him, Minho or Chan. 

You respond with a hum of your own, resisting the urge to lean into Hyunjin as you do. This close, you can breathe in the intoxicating scent that surrounds the blonde. In a moment of clarity, you wonder if he dyes his hair – his wolf being a deep brown, nearly black. 

You shake off the thought when he leans a little closer. Changbin smirks when you shrink bashfully under Hyunjin’s proximity. For all your mirth, it seems you are weak under their hold. The notion makes his chest swell, already imagining all sorts of scenarios in which he wants to corrupt that sweet, sheepish look. 

“Next time -” Hyunjin coos as he pushes closer to press his lips to the shell of your ear to murmur the words. “Next time, I won't lose.”

You physically shiver slightly as his breath tickles your cheek. His proximity makes your brain still, suddenly surrounded by him. Everything in your mind is now focused on Hyunjin. The smooth expanse of his skin and the warmth of it beneath your fingers pushes desperately at the forefront of your mind. You want to push closer - to bury yourself in his chest as you had seen Felix do. You wonder how his fingers would feel on your cheeks, or even perhaps, less decent places too. 

Hyunjin feels his stomach leap with pride when he weakens visibly under his motions. The dominating feeling presses into his throat and grips him tightly, and he knows he’ll have to coax one of the others into his bed to burn off the heat later. 

Changbin pulls Felix closer to his side as Hyunjin speaks, feeling his own burst of dominance pulse when Hyunjin begins to release intoxicating pheromones. You won’t be able to smell them, but he and Felix surely do. 

“Yeah?” you murmur weakly back, feeling much less confidence as Hyunjin leers over you with desire clear in his eyes. 

“Hmm,” he agrees, chest rumbling with the sound. You swear you can feel his ribs shake with the sound. 

When he pulls away, you nearly follow after him. Missing his touch and his warmth, you are desperate to feel his hands again. You have to shake your head to clear your mind of the thoughts as Hyunjin leans back. With your mind back on track, you question what the three have entered your cafe for. 

Suddenly in a different mindset, Changbin reiterates what Chan had requested: several stamina potions and an elixir that allows the wearer resistance to wolfsbane. 

You nod with a clearer head, writing down the orders on a pad from the pocket of your apron. Already taking mental stock of the material you have on hand on what you’ll have to collect, you agree happily. 

“They can be finished tomorrow evening,” you supply, setting down the notepad on the counter behind you. “Can you send someone to pick them up then?”

“Absolutely,” Changbin nods. He already knows which of his partners will be the next to vie for an opportunity to see you. With how much of a fight Han and Jeongin had put up when they left, Changbin knows convincing any of the others to meet you tomorrow evening will not be a difficulty. 

You nod with a grin on your cheeks, moving to step behind the counter before you’re stopped once more. Changbin leans forward, his hand gripping yours gently. Moving away from Felix, the dark haired man suddenly steps impossibly closer. 

His chest nearly presses against yours and you have to physically tear your eyes away for his muscle to meet his eyes. However, perhaps it would have been easier to continue staring at his chest, as the moment you meet his dark eyes you find yourself striking under the lust that seems to swirl in their depths. Changbin is perhaps more dominating than Hyunjin, and heat swells in your stomach when he scans your form beneath his. A smirk pulls up his lips and he pushes closer again, savoring the sweet squeak that leaves your lips when your forms meet. 

Felix cannot resist temptation. 

Both Changbin and Hyunjin have had the chance to get closer - to feel your skin under their own and feel the beat of your heart so near. With a dizzy feeling, Felix steps away from Hyunjin. His eyes are cloudy with something you can't place, but from beneath Changbin, you recognize that his eyes are on you.

Tearing your gaze from the darker haired werewolf, you manage to meet Felix’s pretty irises. He’s giving you a look – a question swirling in the darkness of his pupils. With your mind slowly succumbing to Changbin’s aura, you vaguely realize that Felix is asking for permission. 

A woozy nod is all the answer he needs. 

Felix slides behind you with his chest nearly pressing against your back. He’s so warm, so kind when he pushes closer. You feel his chest vibrate with a hum, the beat of his heart quickening to match the pace of your own. You vaguely notice that your pulse is the same as his - as Changbin’s, and if you were close enough, likely Hyunjin’s too. 

Rumbling softly, you feel his skin move under yours and you feel light-headed. Changbin feels his stomach twist with desire when he smells the barest wave of arousal coat your thighs. If he were any weaker, he would have you with your permission now. However, he knows what Chan has planned. The reward at the end of their hunt will be so much sweeter. 

Felix slides an arm around you to touch Changbin, unable to hold back from feeling the skin of his partner. His eyes close, head tilting back in the slightest as the touch of your skin registers in his mind. 

“Pretty?” he addresses you, leaning down as Hyunjin had to speak the words directly into your ear. The name makes you keen, elated to be referred to with such a moniker. 

“Hmm?” is the only sound you manage to offer in response. 

“Thanks for the gift, Pretty Girl,” he coos, moving his strong hand behind you to tuck something into your back pocket. Your body trembles under his touch, feeling the way he leaves his hand at your backside for a moment too long. He pushes something into the pocket of your jeans, humming pleasantly as he does. He adores the way you seem so weak underneath him. Oh, how he longs to corrupt you further. 

“Bring us a new pair, next time?,” Changbin continues, “Something pink – it’s Chan’s favorite.” Though you don’t know Chan by name, Changbin suspects you are aware of the reference to their Alpha. 

With a keen and your head knocking back to expose your throat, Changbin has to use all his strength to not lean forward to set his lips to the skin. It’s been made very clear that Chan will be the first to mark you – Changbin will have to wait his turn. But the sight of your skin bare beneath him, with you so willingly offering it to him, Changbin has to pull back his wolf as it cries to sink his teeth into your skin with a carnal desire.

Felix adores the way you shiver against him, feeling the brush of Changbin’s hand against the front of his jeans due to his proximity. He feels his own resolve weaken, his stomach twists with delight and heat rising to his cheeks as his partner moves. 

It takes great difficulty to pull himself away, and Changbin has to lean into Felix to stop himself from pushing back into you. With an acknowledging nod, the three finally turn to leave your little cafe. It all happens so quickly, you barely feel time pass until their forms disappear down the street. 

When you can no longer see them, all strength leaves your legs and you sag against the counter at your back. The bond roars under your skin and every nerve is on fire. So little touch manages to drive you mad – you cannot imagine how it will feel when they finally capture you. 

Taking a deep breath to cool yourself down and rubbing your thighs together, you shakily reach for your back pocket. Skin still buzzing from Changbin’s touch, you pull out the cloth that he has stuffed into the crevice of your jeans. 

Under the light of the dimming afternoon sky, you exhale harshly at the sight of the tattered cloth in your grip. Torn nearly to shreds, it seems the werewolves have greatly appreciated your gift from a few nights ago. The notion makes you buzz in anticipation. The implication of their strength is not lost on you. If they have torn this apart, you cannot wait for what they will do to you upon your capture. 

With the knowledge of their pack leader’s favorite color, your buzzing mind makes quick plans. It seems you’re in desperate need of a pair of pink panties – it’s Chan’s favorite color, after all.  

Minho mentions it when he returns from morning patrol. 

He’d gone out alone that morning, before the sun had broken through the trees and cast its golden light through the darkness of the coniferous pines. The air still clung to the chill of night, but Minho was not bothered - his fur was thick and his body temperature was higher than a human’s. The cold did not bother any of them. 

Just as the sun was breaking over the horizon beyond your cottage, Minho smelled it. 

He wasn't far from your home, just a couple of miles and he would be able to see the smoke from the crackling fire in your chimney. The knowledge of your proximity suddenly makes him very nervous. Hair standing on end, Minho's snout lowers to the floor. He tracks the scent until it reaches the border of their territory, far from your cottage. 

Vampire. 

Once he checked on your home once more, waiting to see your head emerge from the back door as you headed to work, Minho returned to the pack house. Your safety ensured, the second-in-command takes off. His paws slap against the earth as he bounds back to his pack leader with the news. 

“A vampire?” Chan questions, his words are tense but don’t reveal the anxiety that pushes at his throat. It settles there with a sickening feeling, but Chan ignores it. “Are you sure?”

Minho’s nod is immediate. He’s absolutely sure of what he smelled - there is no doubt in his mind. There was a vampire in their territory last night. After evening patrol had returned, it had likely slipped over their borders. Investigating or hunting, they were not sure. 

What Chan was sure of, however, was that you were no longer safe alone in their territory. 

“Shit, okay,” Chan curses. In the seclusion of just himself and his second-in-command, Chan allows himself a moment of worry. Minho is one of the only pack members he shows this side of himself to. Though his partners are extremely important to him, Chan doesn’t want them to worry. He keeps this anxious part of himself locked away, ensuring that the others shouldn’t have to experience the same.

However, this does not mean that the others don’t worry. God, if the others could take some of the stress from their leader’s shoulders, they would. They know Chan is unlikely to share the burden, feeling as though the pack leader should bear their burdens alone. So they find little things to ease the weight that holds him down. 

Minho and Changbin ensure that things run smoothly within the pack – ordinary everyday things that Chan shouldn’t have to worry about. Felix is an expert at eating tension need be, after all no one can resist his sweet smile and sunshine demeanor. Everyone takes part in cleaning and cooking, keeping the house nice so that these little things don’t pile on their leader’s shoulders. Jeongin brings food to Chan’s room when he secludes himself there to work. Seungmin drops by every few hours to refill his water bottle and make sure he’s drinking enough of it. Jisung is the mood maker, always managing to keep a smile on their faces despite the tension that may weigh them down. 

The pack runs smoothly when everyone has their part. No one is alone and no one is left behind. 

Minho’s hand reaches out to gently secure itself on Chan’s shoulder. He rubs his fingers gently, a comforting gesture that eases some of the tension in Chan’s muscles. 

Chan gives Minho a grateful look, nodding his head as he decides their next course of action. 

“Okay, we’ll meet her tonight,” he mutters. “Our challenge is put on hold for the next few days - at least until the vampire is gone.” 

Minho nods his head, agreeing with the command. He takes a deep breath that settles some of the worry in his stomach. 

“We can wait for her at dusk. Her cafe closes at 4 - she’ll be out not long after.” 

Chan’s lips press into a worried smile, nodding his own head. It makes sense, and Chan is comforted by the plan. If he can convince you to stay with them for a few days, he’d feel even better. Knowing there is a vampire at the edges of their territory, so close to your home, is an unnerving sentiment. Chan would give you his own room and have the others under lock and key if it meant he could ensure your safety. Though Chan doubts that any of them would bother you with your life in question. 

“Yeah, that sounds good,” Chan nods. He leans into Minho for a moment, enjoying the affection from his younger mate. Minho was honestly much more akin to a cat when it came to affection - careful and hard to understand sometimes. When he allowed it, or even reached out for it, the rest of the pack greatly enjoyed the affection from Minho. 

Minho ran his hand through the hair at the base of Chan’s neck, scratching gently and smiling at the hum of pleasure that escaped the pack leader’s throat. To reassure himself, Chan reaches out through your bond. He’s unsure if you'll understand the feeling, but he tugs his end of the string twice in question, praying you'll understand what he means. 

He waits a beat or two in silence, his head pushed into Minho’s neck. Then, his heart stutters as he feels the other end of the string tug back. Three pulses. Chan feels you pull lightly three times, sending back a beat of comfort to reassure him that you’re alright. 

With that comfort in mind, Chan allows himself to bury his face further into Minho. He breathes in the comforting, familiar scent of his mate and sighs deeply. Some of the tension has left his shoulders; the combined effort of both you and Minho easing some of his newfound worry. 

“S’fine, Hyung. We’ll see her soon.” 

Yet, hours later, when the sun has begun to set behind the trees and the air chills once more, you’re nowhere to be found. 

After closing up the cafe earlier that day, you had decided to do something a little spontaneous. A few nights had passed since the last time you’d engaged in a chase with any of your newfound werewolf prospects. Of course, you had seen the three in your cafe not too long ago, and had been introduced to three more the following evening. It was nice to finally put faces to names, and you found that knowing what they looked like only drew you in deeper to the mystical connection between you. 

The second meeting in your cafe had gone quite similar to the first. This time, Han, Jeongin and Seungmin had been the ones to greet you. The three werewolves had picked up their order and conversed with you for a few moments, teasing being passed between you as all three wolves had been stumped by you during their own attempt to catch you. 

Each of them had taken a chance to get closer, sliding a teasing hand over your waist or leaning close to whisper something into your ear. There was friendly affection too, like when Jeongin fiddled with your fingers while you spoke about the pastries you baked that morning. Or when it was time for them to leave, Seungmin leaned in for a sweet hug, gently pressing you into his chest to squeeze you tight. It was nice – to experience the intimate moments in between the salacious scenes of your chases. You found yourself falling deeper and deeper into the connection that linked the nine of you together. 

Of course, before Seungmin let go, his hands drifted a fraction lower. The playful, short squeeze of your backside had made you let out a short squeak, heat rising to your cheeks and your ears burning. Seungmin laughed at the sound, chest rumbling with his giggles as he offered an explanation. 

“Changbin said you had a nice butt,” he murmurs playfully. You swatted him across the chest lightly, moving before he could catch your fleeting fingers. 

“Well, tell Changbin I’m going to kick his when he comes out tonight.” 

They had left shortly after, smirks on their cheeks and laughter smiling from their chests. By the time they disappeared from your vision, you were left feeling both giddy and buzzing with arousal. The sweet ring of anticipation simmered in your gut, and you couldn’t wait for later that evening. 

With a smile on your lips and the thought of the wolves on your mind, you decided you’d venture out a little earlier tonight. Hopefully you would be able to scout a new path – something different from the previous two runs. It would be exciting to change the pace for both you and the werewolves. 

As you lock up the cafe behind you, the giddiness shows in your step as you practically skip towards your car. The drive home feels shorter than it usually does; perhaps due to your enthusiasm to reach the little cottage to incite another chase.

It’s not long after you set foot in the homely cabin that you leave once more. 

The new pair of sweet pink panties already donned, you feel the excitement surge again. Five of the eight wolves have partaken in the challenge issued by Chan, the pack Alpha. Assuming they will follow a similar pattern as before, you hope that the final three will be the ones to enjoy a chase this evening. Felix, Changbin, and the pack leader himself - would likely be the last to join the exhilarating mating challenge. 

An arousing shiver rakes down your spine as you think of the request Changbin had made of you. The memory of his warm breath on the crevice of your neck and the press of Felix’s chest against your back makes the longing in your chest grow deeper. You wonder how Chan’s touch will feel against your bare skin. The connection that binds you to the pack leader is strong, and you can feel nearly every twitch and tug of emotion from his end. The notion makes you wonder how contact with his exposed skin against your own will feel – if the ache in your chest will finally soothe upon relishing in the depth of his touch. 

Lost in your spiral of thoughts, you meander through the woods without a particular destination in mind. You only want to venture about half a mile into the trees, as you know the werewolves may be able to catch you if you go much farther. You cannot outrun them for much farther. 

With dusk beginning to settle over the area, that last remnant of golden sunshine peeking through the trees, you listen to the peaceful sounds of the woodland surrounding you. The thrum of the magic that encompasses the borders of the wolves’ territory flickers for a moment, a feeling you are not used to. The magical aura that coats the edges of their land wanes under your touch, but does not weaken. It allows you entry without the expense of magic, a sentiment you understand to connect you further to the pack.

This feeling, however, is strange.

Even as you wander away from the border, you can still feel the aura shift and change, as if someone has crossed it – someone it did not entrust to the wolf kingdom. Someone it did not want inside the bounds of their land.

Your feet halt, breath catching in your throat as you suddenly feel the air go still. The sounds of the forest - the chirping of birds and the whistle of the wind through pines - all begin to fade into an eerie silence. It feels as though the very oxygen you breathe has gone stale, itching at your skin as it touches you.

Pulse stuttering in your throat, you hesitate. You had not before had fears of being alone in the woods. As long as you were in pack territory, you knew you were safer than anywhere else. That comfort had kept you from being frightened in the dark seclusion of the trees in previous nights. Now, with the startling reality of the solitude of the forest around you and the ominous fizzling of another magical presence weighing on your mind, you were more than aware of the nonsensical decision you had made.

Moving quickly, you shrink low in an attempt to cover yourself with the foliage that shrouded the area. Staying low to the ground to hopefully make yourself scarce, you take a deep breath to soothe your nerves. Your heartbeat stutters in your chest, thumping in an almost painful manner. It roars beneath your ribs and you think you can faintly hear the pulse in your eardrums. 

Skin prickled with goosebumps and chest beginning to tighten with the grip of fear, you attempt to draw from the little magic you possess. It’s not much - usually just enough to sense the magical changes and auras from other supernatural creatures. You’ve never been able to cast your own spells as the witch blood that flows through your veins has long been diluted over the ages. Your witch-like nature was mostly expressed through the brewing of potions as it did not require magical prowess – only the spell books left to your possession by various ancestors. 

The reminder stings painfully in your mind, only ceasing to spark another bout of fear. As you hesitate, the eerie aura slips closer. 

In the darkening hours of dusk, you cannot yet see them, but you know they’re not far. With panic pushing into your throat, you do not have the conscious thought to alert the wolves. Falling back into base instinct, you are too new to the bond - too unfamiliar with its magic. In your panic, you can hardly recall its presence. 

When a stick cracks in the distance, you hold your breath. There is no telling what lurks behind the seclusion of your hiding place, and you do not know if they can hear each breath you take. 

Enraged tears push at the back of your eyes, suddenly furious with yourself for being so careless. There was much you could have done to prevent this, but you suppose there is no use in deliberating your mistakes. You force back the sweltering pressure that pushes against your eyes. You will not cry when there is something to be done - something to save yourself.

As another sharp, echoing crack of a fallen branch rings through the area, this time much closer, you try to puzzle through the aura of whatever being has begun to stalk you. It is quite clear they have learned of your presence. There would be no use in silent, slow tracking if they had been simply strolling through the woods. 

Reaching out with the barest traces of magic, you are stricken cold to discover what lies not far from your crouched form. Their aura is sanguine red, dripping with darkness and radiating with ill-intent. It’s suffocating as it descends upon you, seeming to fill both your lungs and your brain with its vile ambience. 

Vampire. 

You have not had much dealings with vampires. They’re solitary creatures, perhaps more so than witches. While some reside in covens, just as your own kind may, most chose a life of solitude. It’s easier to keep prey to themselves that way. They may not all be the bloodthirsty monsters of myth, but this one certainly is. With an aura so stark red and overflowing with hunger, you know you have become its next target.

Resistantly the urge to suck in a gasp of terror, you try to keep your breaths low and steady against the palm of your hand to suppress the sound. Before you can even attempt your escape, the chilling sound of its voice filters through the biting cold air that has begun to descend. 

“I can smell you, Pet.” 

The tears finally begin to squeeze from your eyes. Powerless to the burn in your eyes, the salty droplets fall from your ducts and wet your fingers. Terror has finally gripped you tight. You’re frozen to its entrapment, unable to move without fear of the vampire knowing your location – though you’re quite sure it’s already well aware. 

Stomach rolling with waves of anxiety, nausea beginning to burn acridly in the base of your throat, you feel as though you may vomit. You’ve never felt this pure, stirring form of fear seize you before. 

With desperation beginning to settle into your mind, you wonder if you can perhaps bargain with the vampire. It’s likely a fruitless venture, but you stand no chance if it comes to a fight. A vampire overpowers you in both strength and speed; you will not be able to outmaneuver it if you choose to run. 

Breath catching in your throat, you attempt to speak around the grip of nausea. Voice warbled with fear, though you try desperately to suppress it, you speak. 

“You don't want to do this.”

An unsettling laugh seems to spark a chill so deep into your form that you think it may nestle into the fiber of your very bones. They’re closer now. The eerie sound of their laugh comes from the thicket of pines to your right - back the way you came, towards your home. 

“And why not?” The vampire responds, ire rising in their tone. “You smell remarkably sweet, Little Witch – and it would be oh so easy to have a taste.” 

An uncontrolled shiver rakes down your spine and your hair stands on end. The frigid air settles into your skin, raising the goosebumps on the exposed flesh. His words are unsettling, only adding another wave to the already storming sea of panic in your stomach. The vampire seems to be enjoying the way you nearly tremble in fear, the smugness showing in his voice when he answers. 

Your brain races as you attempt to find a reason. Panic pushes at your head and your mind is moving too quickly. Ideas race past and you cannot seem to grasp one with a conscious thought. It feels as though you are drowning in the depths of your own mind, unable to grasp hold of a single thing to say. 

It’s only when you feel a single tug on the buried string in your chest, do you remember. The pull is strong, reaching out with a worried apprehension, and you can barely feel it over the tightness that keeps you still. 

“The wolves!” you gasp out, voice airy as you barely manage to stutter out the word. “This is werewolf territory – you can’t touch me here!”

The vampire snarls. 

You still once more, the sound seeming to strike you frozen. You almost expect the vampire to descend on you then, with sharp fangs and bloodlust surging within the vile creature. He sounds furious at your exclamation, as if the mention of werewolves was a personal attack. Well, you suppose it kind of is. 

“Werewolves,” he sneers. You can practically hear the way his lip curls over the word. Disgust lingers in his tone, the sound nearly making you angry on behalf of the wolves you’ve come to treasure. “As if I care for what wolves think.”

You shudder. 

If the strength of a wolf pack is not enough to stale the vampire, what can you do? A witch with so little magic, unequipped and alone in the woods. If you reach out now, with the reminder of your bond only just coming to fruition, will the wolves be able to make it to you? With so little space between you and the beast, you fear your dear wolves will only arrive to find your limp corpse, drained of blood and blank to the world. 

The thought is a sickening lump you cannot swallow. 

As the vampire closes in, the acrid feeling in your throat pushes into your mouth. Stomach swelling and turning with fear, your pulse stutters again. With so little options left, you decide you will take your chances. 

Acting with haste, you lift from the depths of your hiding place and immediately push off the balls of your feet. Taking off into the trees, you race away from the path in the hopes that the mass of trees and winding steps will allow you a little breadth from the vampire. Heart racing and feeling your lungs wheeze with each inhale, you push yourself beyond your limits. With your life in the balance, the adrenaline allows you to keep running. 

With your legs pumping, you finally reach out. 

You hope you can maintain enough distance between you and the vampire for the wolves to arrive. There's not much of a chance, but you hope that you’ll at least give them a chance. Any sooner, and you fear they’ll be finding your lifeless body. As you reach out now, panic fueled terror racing down the connection, you pull at any of the strings you manage to grasp. It’s so difficult to focus on the bond as you race through the trees, but you force yourself to continue. It’s your only chance. 

You do not have the conscious thought to feel how they respond.  

The vampire, seeming to have expected this, snarls and takes off behind you. 

His much quicker form descends on you quickly, easily keeping pace with you. He seems to be enjoying the chase, hooting as tears leak from your eyes and blur your vision. With your path winding between trees and dodging fallen logs, you're able to maintain a fraction of distance between yourself and the beast. 

This is far different from the chases between you and the werewolves. 

Those runs left you feeling light and excited, body rushing with a pleasant buzz of adrenaline and the longing humming in the bond. In those moments, the thrill was shared consensually between both you and the wolves, keeping the both of you ecstatic for each moment. 

This chase, between you and a monstrous beast who intends to drain your body of its precious life-force, is much different. 

The adrenaline that fuels you now is not of excitement, but that of terror. It pumps into your limbs and keeps you from shaking. However, it does nothing for the panic that crashes into your head. Your mind races with fear and you cannot push away the tears that race down your cheeks. With your thoughts solely focused on dodging the trunks of trees and the lashing of outstretched branches, you do not have a conscious track of mind to stop the salty liquid from blurring your vision. 

Legs pumping and calves burning, you are powerless to the vampire’s strength. With a pained cry, he collides with you. It’s a short moment, just enough for the monster to shove you off your feet. 

Heart a swollen lump in your throat, you weep out a sobbing sound of fear as you tumble down a short cliff side. Sharp branches cutting into your skin, exposing the bloody flesh underneath, you hiss in pain. Your fall is stopped when you collide with a fallen tree trunk. Back slamming into the pine, you squeak another miserable sound. 

Terror squeezes you tight. You can barely feel the stinging pain of the open wounds under the grip of fear. Blood drips down the bare skin of your arms, but you can barely feel it. The throb in your ankle burns from where you’ve likely sprained it, and you pull the limbs closer to you. 

Now openly weeping, you choke on the cry that tries to break free from your lungs. 

“Please!” you cry, the sound warbled by the blur of tears. Clutching your arms to your chest, you try to put pressure on the bleeding scrapes. Any attempt to cover the blood from the nose of the vampire is fruitless. 

The vampire laughs coldly as he emerges from the darkness. Sun now long gone from the sky, the vampire has nothing to fear. 

“Don't cry, Pet,” he mocks with smugness. “It’s only a taste.” 

Frantically now, you pull harder on the bond. Yanking as strongly as you can, ignorant to the pulses of fear you send alongside it, you furiously pull with the hopes they can discern your plea. 

As he descends towards you, a cruel smirk smeared across his face, you finally begin to tremble. Holding a single hand out, you summon every fiber of magic in your form and force it outward. It weakens you greatly, taking every thread of energy along with the flare of magic. The resulting burst of flame is only a momentary distraction, singing the vampire’s clothes as he pushes closer. 

Snarling at your attempt to fight, he laughs cruelly as he finally closes in on your shaking form. Weeping and trembling, you weakly drop your hand and finally curl upon yourself in an attempt to cover your vital organs. 

When the vile beast is inches from your skin, a startling moment passes as he hisses and suddenly draws back as if your very being is laced with poison. A frown twisting his features, you are no longer aware of his actions as you pull yourself tighter into your body. 

“You cunning witch!” the vampire sneers, disgust leaking into his voice. “You’ve been marked by a wolf clan!” 

The monstrous beast’s words are punctuated with the chilling sound of a wolf howl slicing through the bleak hours of night. 

It’s a broken, mourning sound – brimming with pain and a longing so fierce you feel it in your own heart. The howl is soon accompanied by more. Seven more wolves join the call, an aching fear conveyed in their fragmented sound. They’re in pain; but it is not their own. 

They’ve heard your plea. 

They had not been far. They had been following your train since dusk had settled. Knowing the vampire was still on the loose, Minho and Chan had tracked it to the eastern border that afternoon and carefully swept through the rest of the territory for signs of the beast. Yet, they had still come up empty. 

Hyunjin and Han had immediately picked up the hints of your scent. With the rest of their mates not far behind, the wolves had not been far behind when the red string binding your fates had come alive. 

Intense panic is the first to strike them. Filtering with speed through their bodies, the anxiety is laced with the grip of terror. It surges through them with an aching pulse, stronger than anything they’ve felt from you. Not long after, the frantic tugging of the bond yanks furiously at their chests. 

Hyunjin nearly collapses on his feet. Knees weak, his chest aches at the weight of your fear. It’s terrifying, and the dark coated wolf is suddenly struck with a sickening grief. His fur shakes when Hyunjin waves his head to force away the feeling. It is too soon to mourn you, and Hyunjin will not let the ninth piece of their bond be taken so easily. 

It’s blinding. The immense grip of pure despair grips them tight, each of your panic-laced emotions being sent down the bond. Whining out of desperation, Felix crumples into Changbin. Weak to the strength of your fear, he barely pulls himself back onto his feet. He cannot let himself fall now. Changbin buries his nose into the younger’s muzzle, breathing in the scent of his partner and hoping the smell, despite the souring tinge, will help him maintain his balance. 

Chan is the one whose head knocks back into the first despairing howl, the ache of your pain fueling the mournful sound.

With the weight of the world on his shoulders, Chan feels weaker than he’s ever been. The aching sound leaves his chest with a cry of overflowing pain. In his many years, he swears he’s never felt such a surge of grief – not even when Seungmin had gotten caught in a bear trap years ago. Even then, he’d been assured that he could protect his partner - could care for him and nurse him to health. 

Now, with the overwhelming grip of panic in his chest, Chan fears he may lose you before he's even had the chance to love you.

It all happens in a single moment. The fear knocks into them - Chan howls, and then all eight of the wolves are moving. Taking off with a blinding speed, they race through the forest with the traces of your scent fresh in their minds. Only you and your desperate plea for help present in their minds, they push themselves quicker. 

Seven baying sounds echo into the night not long after their leaders. 

In a combined harmony, the werewolves convey their mournful rage. Despite the fear, the sound is brimming with overwhelming anger, for a member of the wolf pack has been threatened; a notion that grounds for a revenge even the High King of Hell himself, could not prevent. 

The pack leader swears he’s never been this scared. Your desperate plea for help has struck him so deeply, he fears it will be the last thing he ever feels from your end of the string that connects you. The eldest can barely manage a weak tug on your bond as he pants in exertion, praying it can provide you some reassurance; they’re coming, it says - just wait a moment longer, they’re coming.

While the howling echo was meant to be a notion of fear for its prey, you can only exhale a sigh of relief. They’ve heard you, it reassures, they’ve heard you and they’re on their way. 

The vampire steps away for a second, seeming to filter through his options. He takes a glance at the trees behind him and then back at your frightened form, eyebrows furrowed as he tries to decide what to do. You’ve been marked by this wolf pack – their scents are strong on your form, intertwining under the sweetness of your own. If he harms you now, he is certain to face the wrath of the pack. Even if he leaves the borders of their territory, they are sure to hunt him down for laying a hand on someone they've marked. No mating mark may lay on your skin, but you are quite clearly bound to this wolf pack – scar visible, or not. 

He doesn’t have time to make a decision.

With the sound of your weeping guiding the werewolves to your location, the vampire suddenly has no time to escape. He turns fruitlessly to locate the easiest method of exiting the bounds of their territory, hair whipping into his face. 

Your chest aches with the dregs of terror, body so desperately weak from the magic you had expelled. Sagging into the trunk behind you and adrenaline waning, the burn of your wounds begin to settle. Fear still lodged into your mind and body still curled upon itself, you do not see the vampire attempt to run. 

You only hear the furious snarl of a wolf’s growl and the pounding of feet on the earth. 

The roaring of panic in your ears is suddenly replaced by the gnashing of teeth and sharp howls of anger. Branches snap and claws scratch against the dirt. Rustling of various footsteps and the sound of sharpened incisions snapping against flesh fill your senses as the wolves descend upon you and the vampire. Clutching your ears tightly with bloodied fingers, you curl tighter on yourself. 

You don’t want to watch. 

You know the wolves are strong, but you fear having to see the vampire harm them. 

Whimpering with tears still slowly dripping down your skin, you do not see the towering, angry form of Chan’s silver wolf break into the clearing. Nor do you see Minho’s enraged snarl as he bursts forth from behind his pack leader. His teeth drip with saliva as he lunges for the vampire. Eyes locked on the beast, he barely manages a glimpse at your terrified form, bleeding and curled tightly on itself against a tree trunk. The sight fuels his protective anger, and his jaws clasp tightly upon the vampire with a furious sound. 

Jisung is the first of the wolves who’s anger wanes at the sight of your crumpled form. 

Strewn against the trunk of a fallen pine tree, you’ve curled upon yourself and clutched your ears tight. Blood drips from your fingers, as if you’ve tried to ebb the flow of blood from the scrapes and scratches that litter your exposed skin. The scent of terror clings to your form, and Jisung nearly gags on the acrid taste. 

Yet underneath the fear, Jisung still smells the sweet, gentle honeyed scent that usually clings to your body. He can still imagine the excited smile that stretched across your cheeks after your first chase, and oh, seven hells - does Jisung want to see that smile again. 

Breaking through the line of his furious partners, Jisung is the first to descend on your trembling form. 

Transforming to bare skin, Jisung collapses to his knees at your side. Watery eyes wide, his hands hover over your skin - afraid to frighten you with his touch. Reaching out, with his heart still pounding and anxiety a sickening lump in his throat, Jisung pulls gently at the red string binding you together. His side pulses with waves of comfort, praying the warmth will remind you of his presence. 

“Shh, Darling,” his teary voice murmurs so quietly. He’s dropped low, whispering the words into your ear, so different from when Hyunjin had muttered salacious teases. “S’alright, Angel - s’just me, s’Hannie.” 

When your fearful eyes finally pry open, wet from salty tears and pupils blown wide, Jisung feels his heart clench in his chest. Seemingly separated from the chaos just behind him, Jisung can only see your sweet form – only feel the stuttered beats of surprise and grateful pulses from your bond. 

“Sungie?” 

At the watery, broken cry of his name, Jisung cannot hold back. Chest aching, he pulls you into his body. Both of your bodies are trembling, and Jisung finally allows the salty tears to fall onto his round cheeks. Weeping softly as he feels your shaking arms wrap tightly around his back, he clutches you tight. You respond with the same fervor, as if you fear that in the next moment, he’ll be torn from you. 

“Yeah, Baby - s’me, you’re okay,” his weeping voice murmurs, words spoken directly into the skin of your neck. His reassurances seem to help as you sag into his arms, finally succumbing to the adrenaline rush. “We’re here, s’fine - you’re safe.” 

From behind Jisung, Changbin is not far behind Minho, and he snarls as he grasps hold of one of the beast's legs. The vampire cries out, but they are not swayed. The werewolves are fueled by the protective rage that swells through their bond. You are terrified and in danger, and they go to the ends of the Earth to ensure your safety. 

Hyunjin is the next to descend on the vampire, teeth sharp as they pierce skin. Blood fills his mouth, but Hyunjin is used to the feeling. His head is split between approaching you and swaddling you in his arms, aching to reassure you, and the brimming rage that seizes him tight. But with how you clutch to Jisung, eyes squeezed shut and attempting to push out the sounds of a fight, Hyunjin knows he must expel the traces of anger before approaching you.

He will not scare you like this.

Tugging sharply on the vampire, Minho and Changbin understand the message and begin to drag the beast away. He kicks and screams, trying desperately to get away from the grip of the wolves, but his attempts are fruitless. And when Seungmin lunges forward, rage finally overflowing upon sight of your terrified form, he cannot help the way his teeth sink into the vampire's neck, silencing the beast once and for all with a sickening crack. 

Felix is already at your side before the sounds can reach your ears. Gentle hands settling over your ears, the blonde keeps the gruesome cacophony of noise from reaching you. His hands are trembling, but he keeps them steady enough to maintain coverage. Felix’s eyes are teary, salty tracks covering his cheeks as he does so. Nonetheless, the touch of your warm skin under his hands seems to reassure him and reduce the shaking. 

He hums under his breath, pushing his chest into your back and hoping that the sound of his voice will drown out the rest.

When the four wolves drag away the body, not wanting you to see the horrors of death, Chan finally steps forward. 

He trusts his mates to take care of the vampire. Chan knows he does not have to worry about the rage that still simmers in his chest, and though he aches to give the beast a beating of his own, Chan knows there are more important matters at hand. 

When Chan finally shifts from his wolfish form, silver fur giving way to soft skin and worried eyes, he’s already on you. 

“Baby!” he cries, a sob of his own swelling in his chest. Despite all the strength he upheld as pack leader, Chan finally succumbs to the worry and the fear that gripped him so tight. He collapses at your side, bond crying out with reassurance and sweetly attempting to comfort you. “Baby - oh fuck, Angel.” 

Over the lump in his throat, Chan leans forward, hands hovering over your skin. He’s scared to touch you. Now in front of you for the first time as a human, with terror still seizing your mind, Chan doesn’t want to scare you. His wolf whines pitifully, longing to pull you into him, but Chan waits. 

When you feel the sweet hum of his connection call out, your eyes crack open and pitifully peer at him from the depths of Jisung’s chest. The dregs of fear still pulsing through you, you cannot stop the trembles that still rake through you. 

“Chan?” 

Felix has never heard such a mournful whimper pull from his Alpha’s chest. 

Finally giving into the longing ache, Chan pulls you into him with a gasping cry. Jisung loosens his grip, allowing his Alpha the chance to feel your skin against his. Chan lets the fear escape his chest with a weeping sob, his own tears burning at his eyes. With your skin pressed against his bare chest, Chan knows you’re safe. The heat of your body is a pleasant burn he never wants to extinguish. 

Your first glimpse of the pack’s Alpha is halted as he draws you into his chest with muscular arms. You cannot be upset about the motion, feeling the shake of your limbs already beginning to settle as his bare skin presses against yours. The pack leader openly sobs out a saddened sound, pulling you tightly into him with your bond flaring strongly. 

Chan is beautiful. 

Your weary eyes barely glimpse full lips and dark eyes as they tiredly fall closed, but you know Chan is utterly gorgeous. There's a faint red scar across the bridge of nose, crossing across his cheeks, but the strength that it implies only makes him more gorgeous. With how brightly your chest swells with affection, quickly replacing the fear, you knew you would find yourself entrapped by his beauty soon enough.

Exhaling a shaky sound, you try to push yourself closer with weak limbs. Chan feels you shift and tugs you closer with a whimper, nose pressing into your hair as a tremble of his own shakes through him. He inhales deeply, savoring the honeyed glimpse of your scent beneath the acrid taste of panic. 

“You caught me,” you tiredly whimper into his chest, collapsing with the last glimpses of adrenaline finally leaving you. 

From behind you, you feel more forms push closer. 

Felix sobs out a weepy sound, and you find yourself saddened that you don’t have the energy to send a wave of comfort to him. His warm skin presses against your side, pushing you closer to Chan as another form piles into your sweet embrace. You vaguely recognize Jeongin’s sweet aura as he clutches you from your other side. The youngest is crying, tears wetting the skin of your neck from where he pushes his head into the crevice beneath your jaw, but you don’t care.  

You can sense that Seungmin is not far behind. Unable to reach you from the depths of the clutches of his older partners, you manage to reach out a hand through the mess of tangled limbs. Seungmin grasps hold of the appendage with a tight grip, squeezing happily as he pushes his face into Jeongin’s neck. 

It’s not long before the rest of the pack descends on your pile. Clutching each other in a warm, muddled clutter of relieved bodies, the remaining wolves pull each other tight. The fear that previously radiated through the bond slowly seeps away to reveal sweet relief and comfort. 

Chan weeps a laugh at your words, chest shaking with the combination of it and a sob. His next words are spoken into your hair, lips pressing a short kiss to the threads with warmth radiating from his mouth. 

“Yeah, we caught ya, Pretty,” 

When spring has finally settled in the forest, Lupin flowers blooming in bright hues of lavender and cornflower blue, you decide it’s finally time. Unbeknownst to you, the first few days of spring mark a shift between the werewolves. You can’t sense it, not with your human ability to smell. 

Mating season has begun. 

It keeps the werewolves high strung. The urge to incorporate you into the pack is stronger than ever. Every flash of your skin has them panting, and every hint of your arousal has their mouth watering. 

Hyunjin had been teasing you for weeks, playfully poking at you and trying to incite you into a final challenge. He managed to rope some of the others into his taunts, keeping the excitement of the chase fresh in your mind. 

Not long after you had settled into their lives, Felix had been the one to mention the mating mark. You had been eyeing the faded blush-colored scar with warmth in your gaze. Analyzing the teeth marks and attempting to identify which scars were the mark of incisors, you vaguely wonder whose teeth had left the mark. 

Felix’s lips had pulled into a wide grin when he noticed, pulling you closer to his bare chest with a laugh. His skin was warm against yours, and despite being subjected to their exposed skin in the weeks past, the notion of Felix's smooth, freckled skin still made you dizzy. With heat in your cheeks and ears burning, you buried your bashful look into the muscle of his chest in an attempt to hide from his prying eyes. 

“Baby!” he laughed, chest rumbling with the sound, “s’nothing to be embarrassed about. You can ask if you want.” 

From across the room, Hyunjin lifted his head from where it rested against the back of the couch. Jeongin, in between his legs - had too, raised his own head with interest in the conversation. 

“Yeah, Pretty – you can ask Chan-hyung to give you a mark of your own too,” the long-haired man mirthfully teased. Jeongin giggled in Hyunjin’s arms, his teeth shining when a grin stretched across his lips. The youngest’s own mark seemed to glimmer in the light when his loose shirt shifted across his clavicle. 

Your eyes followed the trail of teeth on Jeongin’s skin, spotting a second flash of teeth not far from the first. When Hyunjin titled his head, allowing his hair to fall away from his skin, you caught sight of the largest mark imprinted in the flesh to the side of his throat. Two more rosy rows of teeth rested in the smoothness of his skin aside the first.

You begin to wonder how many of these bite marks littered each of the wolves. 

Pulling your eyes from the ridges of Felix’s chest, you raised them to meet the teasing eyes of Hyunjin. “Do you all have them? The bite marks, I mean.” 

Hyunjin hums in response, a spark flickering across his gaze. His arms wind tighter across Jeongin’s chest at the reminder of how his partners have sunk their teeth into his skin. Face warming with the heat of the memory, his lids flutter with an indecent look.

“They’re mating marks,” Changbin cuts in, beside Hyunjin. His eyes were focused on the notebook in his hands, but he was clearly listening to your conversation. His dark eyes look up from the worn leather for a moment, catching yours with something similar to Hyunjin’s own arousal glimmering in the depths. 

“Mating marks?” Your tongue rolls carefully over the words. Spoken silently to yourself, your mind rolls with the implication. 

Felix’s chest rumbles with another answering hum. From where you lay on the floor beneath the couch, you feel something hot flash through the bond in a quick moment. It’s so fast you cannot tell from whom it originated. 

Minho is the next to fill in the blanks. Jisung is pressed tightly to his side, Seungmin not far, their eyes drawn to the television where they’re engaged in a fierce battle of Mario Kart. 

“When the bond is accepted and courting finishes, mating marks seal the connection between bonded packs. They lay claim over each other – everyone is bound to each other through ‘em.” 

A flush of heat fills your stomach. 

Something indecent rolls through your chest and you feel your skin becoming littered with pleasant goosebumps. You don’t know why the thought is so enticing. The thought of teeth pressing into your skin, claiming you once and for all, is something that makes your chest ache and your thighs rub together. 

Attempting to hide your interest, you look back into Felix’s chest, but your spiked acknowledgment is not missed by the others. If your bashful look doesn't give it away, the distant hum of arousal from the bond certainly does. New to the red string intertwining you with the wolves, you’re unable to stop the stronger waves of emotion from filtering through. 

Nonetheless, they wouldn’t need the bond to know you have become interested in the marks. The sweet, honeyed scent of arousal permeating the air and the twinge of your uncontrolled pheromones are evidence enough. 

Minho’s lips raise into a smirk. 

Catching the enticing scent, the wolf inside him howls with a challenge. 

“Oh,” his words drip with salacious undertones. “Are you interested, Pretty?” 

Your eyes dart up to meet him. Swallowing once, you attempt to speak around the lump that has risen in your throat. Suddenly feeling so small under his lowered, teasing eyes, you find yourself unable to respond. 

“Hm, I think she is, Hyung,” Jisung’s voice responds. He’s dropped his controller, looking away from the shining lights of the television at the sweet waves of your scent. His eyes have darkened, dilated pupils beginning to swell. 

Hyunjin soon joins the attack, leaning forward with Jeongin still clutched to his chest. 

“Yeah, I knew it. You want a mark of your own, Pretty Girl?” 

You withhold a whimper into Felix’s chest, but the silver blonde hears it anyway. His own shiver of arousal shaking through him, Felix clutches you tighter. He feels something stir in his gut, and the sharp sting of incisors press against his gums as he resists leaning forward to scrape the fangs across your flesh. 

When Chan steps through the doorway to the living room, the air is thick with the scent of arousal. 

Heart thumping and dominance surging, the pack leader hums to grab your attention. His eyes fall to your body, clutched tightly in Felix’s arms with your eyes wide and pulse racing. 

“S’going on in here?” 

Tension broken, eyes are immediately drawn to the Alpha. The air still simmers with pulses of lust, and Chan feels as though it will soon begin to drown him if he doesn’t do something soon. 

Minho is quick to respond, taking charge as second-in-command. “Angel was just telling us how much she wants a mating mark, Chan.” 

The pack leader’s aura flushes. 

Power radiates through the room, and the wolves feel Chan’s own surprised flood of dominance filter into the atmosphere. They’re under his command, tense and muscles ready to spring onto you at their Alpha’s command.

“S’that so, Pretty Baby?” 

You can’t look at him. Chan’s aura overflows with an assertive wave of power. He commands the room, and you fear if you meet his eyes, you’ll give in without the thrill of the chase. However, you do find yourself nodding into Felix's warm chest, making your consent well known. 

Not responding, Chan hums sweetly. With darkened irises and the pleasant hum of desire in his veins, Chan can feel his teeth push against his gums. His inner wolf howls to lay claim on you now, with your consent made apparent, all that’s left is to sink his teeth into your skin. 

But that would be too easy, wouldn’t it? 

Chan is quick to propose a final chase. 

One last race through the woods. With the mating mark made clear, the first to catch you can be the first to have you – of course, right after the Alpha lays claim. Chan will always get priority, even if he is not the one to capture you first. Though he severely doubts he won’t be. 

Everything happens so quickly. 

Felix pushes you gently off his chest, pulling you to your feet and guiding you towards your room. Well, you suppose it’s actually Chan’s room, but the leader has made it clear you have a place in it as much as he does. With a delicate command to prepare yourself, your heart begins to race with the familiar thrill of adrenaline - the good kind. 

You burrow through the mess of clothing in your drawers, a smirk pulls on the edges of your lips when you find what you’re looking for. After the incident with the vampire, Chan and the others had never seen your last gift. You had intended for that night to go so much differently, but you suppose now is as good of a time as any to present the pale pink lace of the lingerie. 

Tiny, rosy pink daisies litter the sheer fabric, intertwining with the blush and darkened hues of roses. Dark green stems connect the flowers, tastefully just covering the most indecent of places. The faint pink lace barely covers anything, and it’s by far the most lewd thing you’ve ever bought, let alone worn. 

When you slide it on, some sense of pride inflates your chest. It’s a fleeting feeling, one you find you don’t often experience in reference to your own body, but you thrive under its wave. It feels nice to admire your own skin and size for once, and you remind yourself to do it more often. Learning to love yourself is a hard road, but you hope you’ll learn to love your own skin soon. 

Choosing to forgo the complications of too much clothing, you slip on one of the boys’ oversize shirts. You can’t tell whose it is, as even their shirts run sizes too large so that they can be cut and loose, but the scents on it are familiar, as always. Hyunjin wore it last, that you can tell, and you hope the notion of nothing but lingerie beneath it will drive him mad. 

You honestly hope you’ll be caught quickly. Even despite the arousal and implication of mating marks, running with nothing but a large t-shirt is sure to cause your thighs some chafing. However, you cannot bring yourself to put anything else on, knowing the sentiment will make the chase more enticing. 

When you reenter the living room, all eight of the werewolves are standing. Murmuring amongst themselves, desire roaring in their stomachs, they turn to look at you when you enter the room. 

“Oh fuck,” Changbin murmurs, mouth going dry at the sight. He has to readjust his pants to hide the growing problem between his thighs. Cursing under his breath, running with a boner is sure to be a pain. 

“Hm, our little tease, isn’t she?” Minho coos, voice dripping with filthy undertones. 

Hyunjin nearly purrs at the expanse of your bare legs. Eyes scanning every inch of your exposed flesh, he feels his spine shake with a familiar arousal. 

“You wearing anything under that, Pretty?” 

Despite the weight of their dominating auras, you manage a hum in response to Hyunjin. “Mhm! It’s the present Binnie asked for.” 

Changbin snarls at your words, chest vibrating as he feels another bolt of heat twist his gut. Imaging the pretty pink lace underneath the darkness of your shirt, he and Hyunjin know exactly of the gift you speak of. Felix too, rumbles pleasantly at the reminder of your meeting so long ago. 

“Present?” Jisung murmurs in question. 

Changbin hums his gruff, deep response. “You remember her last ‘gift’? I asked her to wear something pink next time - Chan-hyung’s favorite and all.” 

The pack leader goes weak in the knees with a lusty groan. His eyes close and his head knocks back at his lover’s words. The reminder of the tiny pair of panties clutched in his fist, now imagining them pink and stained with your arousal, has his mind finally drowning a ferocious desire. 

“Oh Baby, you’ve done it now,” Chan’s deepened tone coos. When his eyes open, brown hair falling across his forehead and highlighting the red scar across his nose, there’s a fire burning brightly in the depths. “You sure you want this? Once we start, I won’t be able to stop myself, Sweetheart – not now that I know what’s under that pretty dress.” 

Your nod is immediate. You’ve never been more sure of anything. These eight wolves are yours now, just as much as you are theirs. Chest thumping, Chan purrs a hum in response. 

“Don’t make it too easy then, Pretty,” Chan murmurs, nose grazing your skin as he leans in close. “Gonna ruin you when I catch you - gotta’ savor our prize right?” 

And the final chase begins. 

They have given you a head start. Just two minutes, but it’s enough time to clear some distance between you. They aren’t wolves this time – just humans, but supernatural humans with enhanced senses and incredible speed and strength. They’ll still be able to catch up quickly. 

You know there’s not much you can do when it comes to hiding this time. With how strong your arousal thrums between your thighs, there’s no chance they won’t be able to seek you out by scent alone. 

Leaping over a fallen branch, you pant heavily with a wide grin on your face. Probably looking a little insane as you race through the woods with a manic smile, clad in nothing but a black shirt and lingerie beneath it, you laugh freely into the spring air. 

You don't know how much distance you’ve put between you and the pack house, unable to keep track of time since Chan had started the chase. Regardless, you continue pushing your calves to run through the trees with your chest sizzling with the familiar buzz of adrenaline. 

Only a few moments later, you hear excited hoots and shouts fill the air.

Your two minutes are up. 

Excitement bursting again, you force yourself faster. You know it won’t be long before they catch up, but you want to give them a chase worthy of being called the last. 

Distantly, you feel one of them tug on the bond, chest being pulled in their direction, but you ignore it. Dirty tricks didn't work before, and they wouldn’t now. Allowing a smirk to pull at your lips, you continued to race, kicking up dirt from the earthen ground. 

You feel him as soon as he breaks through the tree line at your back. Minho, second-in-command, was one of the fastest of the wolves in their human forms. Now, driven mad by you, he has a mission in mind as he pursues your racing form. 

You don’t have to turn to know he’s behind you. 

He’s closing on your fast, his strides longer than yours and heart pumping just as quick. You barely have the conscious mind to consider your options, but vaguely you wonder if the same trick will work twice. You can tell he’s a few steps in front of the others, so you’ll only have a moment’s chance if it’s to work. 

As Minho descends on you, breath in your throat as his hand reaches out, you lunge to the side again. Your heart leaps, skipping a pulse as Minho skids on his feet. He barely manages to catch himself before he falls, cursing loudly at your cheap trick. 

“Hah! I can’t believe you fell for it again!” 

A growl loosens from Minho’s chest, and he’s running after you again. 

Escaping Minho has allowed you a moment to maintain the distance between the boys, though it’s still not much. They’re still hot at your heels, fueled by carnal desire and thoughts of your skin beneath their hands. Heat still sizzles between your thighs, and you feel the lining of your panties dampen at the sound that escapes Minho’s chest. 

Distantly, you hear another let out a groaning sound, as if they smell the arousal slowly leaking from between your thighs. The thought makes you lightheaded. 

Another laugh leaving your lips, you duck under a low hanging branch, the boys hot at your heels. Confident in your lead, you allow yourself to miss the missing aura that is missing behind you. With your mind focused on keeping ahead of the werewolves, you’ve missed an alarmingly crucial clue: there are only seven auras behind you. 

You're smart. Hyunjin had Minho had both conveyed this when they returned from their individual chases. Able to outmaneuver them both, they were impressed by your ingenuity. 

Yet, even despite your intelligence, you could not outsmart Chan. 

Instead of joining his pack, pushing you from behind as the others had, Chan burned with the passion that would guarantee his success; and he chose another route. 

You don’t see him coming. 

Racing through the pines, his arms pumping and veins fueled with a primal lust, Chan had taken off in the other direction. Your scent clinging to his senses, he swears he can already taste the sweet arousal that leaks into your panties. A smirk tugging at his lips, Chan races for you head on. 

He pursues you from the front, rather than behind. Seeming to know exactly what routes you would take through the forest, he knew precisely where he could cut you off. 

When his panting, muscular form breaks through the trees in front of you, your slam to a stop on your feet. Skidding an inch, you pant with widened, surprised eyes. Chan stands in front of you, pupils blown and dark, sweat dripping across his forehead and down the bridge of his nose, smearing along the red scar. 

His muscular biceps bulge in his tight, black shirt, and your mouth waters at the sight. You only have half a moment to take him in before his smirk deepens and he pushes off the balls of his feet, lunging for you. A growl pulls from deep within his chest and you squeal as you try to dodge his strong hands. 

Your efforts are futile. Even as you attempt to evade his grip, twisting as you make for the forest, Chan’s already moving - quicker and stronger than you. Of course, if you had half a mind to focus on it, the thought of his superior size and strength would drive you wild, but you didn’t have the chance. 

“Chan!” you squeal, squirming as you attempt to wiggle out of his grip, wanting to continue the chase and feel the adrenaline pumping through you. The Alpha groans deeply when his name falls from your lips, already imagining the sound twisted into gasps of pleasure. Head knocking back, Chan’s muscles bulge as he wraps you in his grasp. 

Your skin hot against his, Chan moans out a sweet sound that has your stomach turning. His biceps flex under your squirming, and it’s so enticing to feel how he manhandles you into his chest. One strong hand manages to grasp both your wrists, pulling them behind your back as he tugs you close. Your back against his front, hands in his grip, Chan hums pleasantly with you now trapped in his hold. 

“Yeah, s’it, Pretty Baby – say my name.” 

Your knees weaken. 

Unable to move in Chan’s tight grip, you’re left defenseless to the seven wolves that soon descend. 

Unsurprisingly, Hyunjin is the next to capture you. The taller man’s figure leans over yours with a daunting smirk, his eyes shining with carnality. His chest pushing against your front, Hyunjin’s head leans over yours and you’re forced to look up at him when his hand reaches out. Thin fingers expanding over your throat, Hyunjin applies a little pressure to your neck, exhaling a groaning sound when you whimper.

“Dirty girl,” he purrs, fingers tightening across your throat in a pleasant pressure that makes your head spin. Hyunjin’s grin is wild as he does so, finding the sounds you let out make his chest swell with pride. “I told you I’d catch you next time, didn’t I?” 

You think you might leak through your pretty pink underwear. Legs trembling and head turning, eyes barely able to keep hold of Hyunjin’s lusty ones, you barely realize when the others join the fun. 

Minho, obviously holding a little grudge from missing you twice, is at your right. His hands are hot to the touch. Chan laughs a cocky chuckle when his second-in-command immediately drops to his knees. Minho rolls his eyes, lips already leaning forward to press into the skin of the inside of your knee. When you squirm, legs visibly shaking at the touch of Minho’s soft, full lips on your bare skin, his hand drifts higher. Gripping your thigh tight in his big hand, he murmurs his next words directly into the skin of your thigh.

“Stop squirming, Angel.” 

You whine again, head knocking back with a keen. Going limp in their hold, your head rests against Chan’s collarbone. The pack leader smirks in victory. He loves watching the bashful look on your face twist into something darker. 

“Hannie,” Minho commands, not looking away from his place on his knees, “Come help me, will you?” 

Jisung does not hesitate. Taking your other side, his hand slides around your waist to squeeze you once. Then, with a salacious grin at the dripping honey smell of your arousal, his hands drop. Sliding pleasantly down your stomach in between you and Hyunjin - of course, taking a moment to run gently over the skin of Hyunjin’s stomach - Jisung’s hands slide beneath the fabric of your shirt. 

This time, Jisung lets out an obscene sound when the tips of his fingers graze the soft lace wrapped around your hips. 

“Fuck, Baby,” he murmurs with a whining sound. Fingers drift, lifting the hem of your shirt higher, allowing Minho a glimpse of the fabric that lay beneath. He pushes closer, face lifting until his head is level with your hips, which are pushed against Hyunjin’s. The taller man groans when Minho’s hand comes up, cock twitching when his lover’s fingers toy with the bulge in his pants. When he leans away a little, leaving space for Minho to dive between, only your chest remains pressed against Hyunjin. 

Before Jisung has a moment to explore further, Seungmin reaches from behind, his fingers lightning quick as they rip your shirt upwards. Eight sounds of approval sound out when the material is lifted above your chest, allowing them a first look at the pretty pink lingerie you’ve chosen. 

Chan, however, does not have the best angle to see the sweet panties you’ve chosen for him with Seungmin lifting the shirt in front of his face. With a disgruntled sound, his eyes lift to Hyunjin’s, grinding his hips forward into your backside as he does so. You keen, and Hyunjin smiles. 

“Pretty Boy, keep her hands out of the way f’me.” 

Then, Chan releases his grip on your wrists and pushes them around to your front, where Hyunjin’s waiting grasp wraps securely around them once more. Now in Hyunjin’s hold, Chan has both hands free, and he doesn’t waste a second. Exchanging a look with Seungmin, Chan’s hands lift to grasp both sides of the color of your shirt. Biceps flexing, the pack leader grips the material tight and then tears it down the middle. 

His display of strength has you lightheaded.

Now exposed, the eight can admire the sweet little bra that adorns your chest. Tits practically spilling from the material, Chan hums pleasantly, his eyes going hazy. By now, he feels the growing need to release his dick from his pants, unable to take the throbbing against the tight material. Changbin shares the sentiment, the three remaining men finding the means to occupy themselves with each other. Felix is already under Changbin’s grip, his eyes having trouble drifting back and forth from you and his dark haired partner. 

Chan growls pleasantly at the sight of the pink lingerie, one of his hands sliding around to join Jisung in toying with the hem of the rosy panties. Minho’s lips are on your inner thigh, and he sucks in a heated breath when he catches a taste of your arousal on his tongue. Fingers inch closer, his forefingers rubbing gently across the thin material that separates him from your slit. Rubbing a teasing circle, your head knocks back again.

Yeah, you manage to think - they’re definitely stained now. 

“Oh, fuck me,” Chan murmurs, voice dripping with honey. “Look s’good in pink, Angel.” 

Minho hums in agreement, teeth skimming across your thigh. It trembles under the glimpse of his sharp incisors, and Minho mirthfully laughs. He knows exactly where he wants to put his mark. It’s a favorite of his, apparently, if the mating marks on Jisung, Hyunjin and Felix’s thighs have anything to say. 

“Better take a deep breath, Pretty,” Hyunjin murmurs directly into your ear, lips grazing the shell. “M’gonna fuck ya stupid when Chan’s done with you.” 

Chan laughs when you whine, and when Hyunjin’s hand slides away from your throat, they’re quickly replaced with the feeling of Chan’s teeth scraping across the skin. You squirm under him, feeling both so heavy and so light at the same time. You swear the combined touch from them will kill you. 

Felix seems to think similarly, a whine of his own skipping from his lips when Jeongin’s hand slides beneath the button of his jeans. The youngest smirks, obviously enjoying having Felix weak under his touch. However, he’s interrupted when Changbin slides his own hand down the younger’s back, making Jeongin shiver. You desperately want to open your eyes - to look at the blonde when he makes such pretty sounds, but you’re prevented when Chan playfully nibbles on the skin of your throat. They’ll have their turn with you soon. 

“Watch her, Lixie,” Changbin murmurs. Your skin seems to heat even hotter, and you feel as though you’ll pass out under their eyes. “She’ll be falling apart on Chan’s cock soon, don’t ya wanna’ watch?” 

The sentiment of the pack Alpha’s teeth against you strikes with a heated stir of your stomach: Chan’s going to claim you, just as the rest of them will. And though you don’t have the teeth to leave a permanent mark of your own, you are sure you’ll leave plenty of fading ones on their skin too. 

They’re yours now, just as much as you are theirs. 

You lean back into Chan with eyes closing out of ecstasy, despite only being teased so far. The leader smirks and you feel it on your throat. Jisung finally grows tired of toying with the fabric between his fingers and finally peels them away from your hips, giving way for Minho's lips to explore new territory. Chan feels his dick twitch when Minho lets out a pleased groan at your taste, finally able to suck you into his mouth as he wants. 

“Yeah, you like that, Baby?” Chan hums, teeth scraping over your skin, finding the place where he wants to sink them beneath the flesh. It won’t hurt, he knows. Rather, he thinks you’ll quite like the rush of pleasure that comes from a werewolf’s bite. “Get ready, Pretty - I caught ya,’ and m’not gonna be gentle.” 

Teeth sharpening and incisors sliding forward, Chan angles his head so that his mating mark will be candid for all to see. 

“You're ours now.” 

His teeth sink in. 

bonus: 

reader, sitting with the dewdrops at dawn!reader: ... 

reader: so,,, demons?

dewdrops at dawn!reader, nodding: werewolves? 

reader, also nodding: ...

dewdrops at dawn!reader: ... 

reader: are we monster fuckers? 

a/n: listen,,, I like skz, okay? this is totally not like 20k words written in a daze of hard hours, I swear. 

ngl tho sometime when I was writing this fic I was like omfg this is so ‘2013 wattpad girl’ of me,,, like sometimes I’d write a sentence and try not to think about the cringy werewolf fics I used to read xD either way I really like the concept of the supernatural and wolf chan is always in the back of my brain so this is what followed that brain rot. 

p.s!! did anyone catch the references to dewdrops at dawn? I had to connect the universes somehow xD I hope you guys enjoyed them <3

[incorrectsmashbrosquotes]

Ranni and the Tarnished's Children

So, I've been replaying Elden Ring, getting hyped for Shadow of the Erdtree, so I wanted to imagine what children Ranni and the Tarnished might have. If you believe they're physically incapable then just imagine they magicked them up with God-Powers or something.

ONTO THE KIDS!

-

-

Blaiddyd (pronounced: Bly-thid) (Translated: Wolf Lord).

Named for his uncle Blaidd the Half Wolf, Blaiddyd is the eldest Demigod child of Ranni and her Consort. Tall and blonde, he actually takes after his uncle Radahn quite a bit, being loud, friendly, and boisterous. In Build terms, he's an STR/Faith build, drawing on his faith in his parents rather than in any of the Gods like the Golden Order.

Blaiddyd has an intensely protective streak for his younger siblings and is generally an outgoing and friendly guy. But he does have a wolf's temper and can be a devil in the battlefield, entering something like a Berserker rage.

Blaiddyd fights with the Claymore and his Incantations, especially the Black Flame incantations of the Godskins using the Godslayer's Seal. Both his parents are a bit concerned about his interest in those arts. However, in serious situations, he uses the Sacred Relic Sword, entrusted to him by his parents as a show of trust and faith.

-

Rhiannon (pronounced: Ree-anne-on) (translated: Great Queen)

Named for her grandmother, Rennala of the Full Moon, Rhiannon is actually one of a set of twins. A quiet and reserved girl with pale skin and the red hair of her mother's true form, Rhiannon prefers her actions to speak over her words. She's a DEX/Faith build, relying on speed and incantations and her faith in her family to see her through.

While naturally taciturn, she is actually quite shy as well, and has a hard time speaking to other. She is a Demigod, like Blaiddyd, and often proves the more level headed one when she commands on the battlefield with her brother.

Rhiannon prefers spears and knives in combat, using Incantations only to bolster her already remarkable agility and dexterity. She prefers the Cross-Naginata if she had to choose, and also uses the Dragon Communion Seal as those are the incantations she prefers to use and is renown as something of a Dragon Hunter for it. But in dire circumstances she uses the Bolt of Gransax.

-

Idris (translated: Ardent Lord)

Named for his uncle Iji, Idris is a brilliant scholar of a Demigod, spending most of his time perusing ancient texts and tomes, seeking new and fascinating magics. He is the twin of Rhiannon, though his sister feels more kinship with Blaiddyd than Idris, though that suits him fine, as Idris enjoys his solitude.

A tall and lean brunette, Idris is fascinated by magic, especially Death Sorceries, and retains a frustration at his mother for her refusal to allow him to study the Rune of Death to further his research in the field, though he secretly relishes the challenge of working without it.

While not much of a fighter, Idris uses his grandmother's Regal Scepter for his casting, and a Carian Crystal Dagger is her really must get dirty with it.

-

Mairwen (translated: Blessed Love)

Mairwen, named for the Kindling Maiden Melina who guided her father on his journey, Mairwen is not a Demigod.

She is an Empyrean. A candidate for Godhood. Her mother's heir.

Mairwen is an albino with white hair and eyes, and almost completely mute, save whispering to her parents and siblings when she feels she has something important to say. She's the youngest of the family, and yet perhaps the most powerful, as befitting a God in Bud. Her scarlet pure white eyes see to see everything and nothing at once.

Mairwen is a master of Faith and Intelligence, using sorcery and incantations in equal measure using Azur's Glintstone Staff and the Erdtree Seal, given to her by her father after a secret conversation. But should the occasion call for it, she unleashes the Sword of Night and Flame, and shows her foes true terror.

[viperwhispered]

K so fun fact: I'm brazilian and we are people who are extremely affectionate with each other. We greet each other with hugs and kisses and physical touch is the norm for just about every type of relationship other than complete stranger. Due to this, the one emotion we are never able to properly hide no matter how hard we try is how much we love someone. It's the basis for every sort of positive relationship a standard brazilian will have. Even when it's just acquaintances, we're still guided by the love and respect we feel for our fellow man.

What does this have to do with Jamil? Simple: give him an s/o who is incapable of fully hiding how much they adore him.

Like they'll be subtle, they'll be discreet, but they will never be able to fully hide it. Secret relationship? Sure but it's not gonna stop their eyes from always discreetly wandering over to him. No PDA? Whatever you say dear, but it ain't stopping them from sticking close and brushing up against him.

As soon as they're alone, Jamil is going to be absolutely smothered. Always touching him one way or another, balantly looking at him with heart eyes, and bluntly replying to teases about how they feel towards him (cue blushy Jamil). Even when he's not feeling up to it, they still let their feelings out through acts of service (Kalim sitting, helping with chores, reminding him to rest, making dinner, drawing a bath, etc).

There is also the fact that while the s/o is able to lie, their capability to do so goes out the window when it comes to Jamil. Their able to give vaugue or ambiguous answers, but never outright lie. The reader will also go out of their way to manipulate conversations so it never lands on the topic of their relationship with Jamil.

If someone were to point blank as them if they love Jamil, they would be completely incapable of saying no.

Now the reader themselves doesn't particularly care, but always keep Jamil's wishes in mind. Which is why they respect his boundaries very well. But even then, their affection tends to spill over one way or another.

Which brings us to the comedy:

Kalim, post-CH4 and awakening his Scarabia powers, has noticed that the reader never gives definitive answers when it comes to their opinions on Jamil. Combined with the fact that they always seem to be physically close to him and always looking his way, things are a little confusing for our resident sunshine.

So he bluntly asks and there are two routes for this.

Route 1: the reader just replies: you want the short or long version?

Short version: simple "I love him" that takes less than 10 secs

Long version: 30+ minutes of every single little thing they absolutely adore about Jamil *fangirl style*

Point is that now Kalim is aware that reader is head over heels tumbling down a hill and he's somewhat sure that Jamil is at least interested (even tho the snake is tumbling right after). But he does not know the two have already crashed at the bottom of the Mariana Trench and are already dating.

Cue wacky Kalim shenanigans as he tries to get his two besties together.

Route 2: reader continues to be vague and says something like "It's not really that simple"

Kalim interprets this as you two having a bad relationship/hating each other. The cherry on top of his guilt sundae is the assumption that reader and Jamil are only tolerating each other for Kalim's sake.

Cue paniking sunshine and enter wacky hijinks of Kalim trying to get Jamil and the reader to be friends (not possible unless they break up but at least his heart is in the right place).

Both routes include Kalim learning the truth and duck taping his loud mouth shut, a poor long suffering Jamil, and a very amused reader who is just laughing at the situation while cooing over their flustered boyfriend.

As a Finn I have a feeling we might be quite close to opposite ends of the spectrum here when it comes to showing affection, especially physically 😅

I do love the idea of an s/o who can’t quite hold back their feelings despite their best attempts. It feels very real, too. Like, of course you’re gonna look after the person you care about, and can’t help showing concern if something seems to be going wrong, for example. Like, they seem to get hurt? Of course you’re gonna look worried. They look happy? Of course you’re gonna be happy for them too.

(Also ngl I do try not to lie if I can help it but do sometimes make sure to set my words carefully so yeah I can feel those ambiguous answers for sure.)

Hasdfs oh Kalim you dear sunshine. I can just see Jamil’s confusion at first when he realizes what Kalim is doing, looking at his s/o with a “do you have something to do with this” look. Jamil’s surprise turning into exasperation when it just keeps on happening, and weighing in the options of if it’s less of a hassle for Kalim to know what’s going on after all.

“cooing over their flustered boyfriend” tho. Yes. Totally. Always love this for Jamil. (tho I’d certainly feel awkward too trying to sidestep / calm down Kalim’s antics)

[uchihaharlot]

Itachi and Shisui making out in the back seat of a car in modern au

Nonny,

I’m gonna tell you a little secret. If your older hotter cousin sears his lips to yours in a hot kiss, while going 99 in the backseat of a souped up coupe...

NSFW; extreme depictions of Shisui fucking Itachi rotten, Sasuke getting hard from it and then Shisui coercing him to let him suck Sasuke off. You’ve been warned, if you don’t like Shiita, or even Sasuke/Shisui (which I don’t ship this, I just did it out of spite) get lost. If you’re incapable of understanding that fiction is not real, get lost. If you want to bitch and moan about this, I don’t give a fuck. I like writing, I like writing smut. I like writing my favorite characters (especially the two that Kishi royally fucked, getting fucked and by one another).

Itachi didn’t turn him way. In fact, it would be rude if he didn’t reciprocate the gesture. At least, that’s what Itachi internalized it as. Aside from Shisui being his mentor and biggest supporter.

He was his lover. His Ride or die — rotten soldier. To ignore the whims of one of the strongest shinobi all of Konoha and the Uchiha ever produced, would be ignorant.

That and Shisui’s fat cock spoke for itself when it emotionally and physically incapacitated Itachi to a whimpering mess. How side splitting good it felt when he was stuffed full of it. Shisui craned Itachi by his hair and sucked on his neck.

Hurried, and desperate, Itachi reaches his lips to slant over Shisui’s. The intermingling of their breaths heated the space in between. The soft rocking of their hips, harmonious rhythm. Shisui reached down to stroke Itachi’s throbbing cock, how many times had he edged him to the brink and stopped.

Poor baby Sasuke. Subjected to his family’s salacious behavior. Drove over a few speed bumps with no breaks in hopes of knocking their shit off. Instead was met with the inconsolable moaning of his older brother.

“You two are annoying, and disgusting.” Sasuke chided, taking a hard left.

Thinking he could manipulate a pair of mass manipulators himself, Sasuke drifts onto a dirt road. How unfortunate for him the car turned into one giant vibrator on the rocky terrain, that it only fed the salacious narrative of his family.

As if he was being funny Shisui yelled, “faster Sasuke… Itachi’s close.” The perpetual image in the review mirror of his cousin plowing his older brother while saying that made him wish he was blind. A terrible day to have eyes.

Break check? More like a thrust boost. Nothing that Sasuke did really made a difference, Shisui was still balls to the wall deep inside Itachi. His brother in their cousin’s lap, Shisui’s hand ferociously stroking Itachi. The lurid hip rotation permanently gave Sasuke brain damage. Hearing his older brother mewling he was cumming did not prepare Sasuke for the stalactite of cum that ricocheted out Itachi’s throbbing cock and dripped off the hooded upholstery and into his lap.

‘You’re sick as fuck Shisui!’ Sasuke’s disgusted face did not scare his older cousin.

‘Don’t be such a prude. I have enough for both of you.’ Whatever the fuck Shsiui was referring to, Sasuke pretended to not hear or know.

It all came to a head, well Itachi’s mouth slobbering Shisui’s head. He was purposely holding it in. Enjoying the glare of Sasuke from the mirror every so few seconds as he recklessly drove through the backwoods of Konoha. Shisui’s unnecessarily loud caterwauling made worse by his hand forcing Itachi to deep throat his length.

‘Are you hard, little cousin?’ Shisui moaned, Sasuke kept his dick in check until that little number slipped out.

With vinegar, Sasuke shot back, ‘I like blondes, not incorrigible assholes.’ Yea of course, but if Sasuke was as crooked as the rest of them, he would cave.

‘I give better head than that kid you call a man.’ Shisui, still using his older brother as a cock sleeve, drawing out his own climax. ‘Pull over.’

‘No.’ Sasuke sped up, hitting a pothole at the moment Shisui spurted his creamy cum into Itachi’s willing and warm mouth. Being sucked like a straw until he could no longer take the overstimulation of it.

The pothole, well, it popped a tire. Irritating a shrieking Sasuke and making Shisui laugh as he moans, ‘I came so hard I popped the tire.’

Once Itachi and Shisui are properly fitted back into their respective slacks. The situation outside of the vehicle is assessed. Front passenger side tire was toast. Itachi immediately went to the trunk for the spare and jack. Shisui on the other hand, continued to push his deplorable agenda of ‘reasons why you should put your cock in my mouth’ to Sasuke. One of them being the most ridiculous of reasons.

‘I’m older, wiser and—’ cut off by Sasuke.

‘Will you shut the fuck up if I let you?’ Sasuke snapped, typically would never even fantasize this situation. But he was semi hard, and Naruto was not around. Nobody was around. Itachi looked up from the trunk, not involving himself in the matter. It wasn’t like men didn’t know what men wanted. It wasn’t as if there was some law that forbid you to fuck your older or younger cousin. It wasn’t as if—

Sasuke stopped internalizing the second he felt Shisui’s warmth wrapped around his cock, expertly took him deep and Sasuke begrudgingly groaned. When had he unfastened his pants even? How quickly his older cousin worked his shaft, looking up at him like some goo goo doll in a whorehouse. Took him to the back of his throat, with out complaint, over and over again. Spitting on him and using both hands to crank his aching need. Naruto would have bitched he was too much to take, not Shisui. Shisui gargled even on Sasuke’s hot pulsing cock. Sucking in air as Shisui’s lips encapsulated the tip of his cock to the roof of his mouth as it threatened to spill out.

‘Already?’ Shisui teased, licking his length from under.

‘Shut up.’ As if closing your eyes would make Sasuke forget that Shisui was the one on his knees.

He clenched his firsts at his side, that was, until Shisui guided one hand to his curls, ‘Itachi’s favorite.’

It was unholy to receive lips service only the gods would weep for. As his older brother continued to change the tire, neither Shisui nor Sasuke were distracted by the gentle rise on the other side of the car. Sasuke leaned against the driver side door, whispering profanity towards Shisui and his stupid good mouth. He was going to cum, but he didn’t want to give Shisui the pleasure of it in his mouth.

‘On your face.’ Sasuke demanded and bit back a groan.

Shisui never once listened to the advice of others, he did as he pleased but hearing and seeing Sasuke whimpering. Looking up at his now grown up baby cousin from a vulnerable standpoint, drawing his leaning cock in and out of his mouth as Sasuke gripped his hair. Shisui decided to actually entertain this idea.

‘As you wish, little Sasuke.’ Even worse was the tone he used. Oh well, Sasuke unabashedly gripped Shisui by his mop of hair and watched as Shisui pumped his thickening cock above his face. Painting his older cousin with the same genetic material each on of them had.

‘I still think you’re sick as fuck.’ When Shisui licked at his lips.

‘The pot calling the kettle black.’ Standing, leaving Sasuke with his now soft floppy dick hanging out.

On cue the car was now situated in four wheels again. Shisui took driver seat, itachi passenger and Sasuke in the back. Left to ruminate and brood on the fact he may or may not have just gotten the best head of his life. Would never admit it, Shisui would undoubtedly tease him through innuendos at the most insensitive times.

‘..fucking losers.’

[heyidkyay]

I guess I’ll take this pain, instead of your name |

Part Seventeen

A/n: IT'S BEEN A WHILE! Hi, I'm very sorry for the wait! But even so, I hope this next part will have been worth it, there's a lot going on here and it jumps around a bit but it is longer! Enjoy? x

Summary: In life, things changed. The boys you'd once grown up with were men now, and famous ones at that. The type that toured the world and had millions of adoring fans.

The five of you shared a shit ton of history. But you also shared a lot of mixed emotions for one of them in particular, a certain drummer.

Warnings: Lots happening!! Mentions of food, body issues, bouts of sadness and struggles with both physical and mental health (dw, there's still a healthy amount of fluff, im not that evil)

Masterlist

--

“Excited, darling?”

Matty’s enlivened voice startled me from the messy thoughts which swarmed my mind, I glanced up and out of my daze to find him walking over. I hummed back in soft confusion.

“I mean, you’re finally getting out of this shit-hole and your face only continues to look like that of a slapped arse,” Matty snorted as he dropped down onto the bed beside me, though he did nudge my shoulder to soften the blow. 

Still, my eyes narrowed as I wrinkled my nose up at him in retort.

“This do you any better?” I goaded, getting into his space.

I watched his mouth pull up into a lopsided grin, it stayed there even as he rolled his eyes at me and proceeded to shove my face away from his.

“Tons." Matty blew out, "But come on, darling, what’s been going on, eh? Figured you’d be bouncing off the walls by now, been planning an escape ever since you first opened your eyes.”

I quirked a brow at him. “Erm I’d quite like to remind you, Healy, that I am currently incapable of bouncing from foot to foot at this very moment in time, let alone any walls. Also, I’m pretty sure that Dr Mann would rescind my release papers if I even made an attempt.”

With a shrug, I shot him a braggart smile. 

“Yeah, alright Einstein.” Matty drawled with another roll of his eyes. “That still doesn’t answer my question though, does it?” 

His gaze drifted downwards then to where I held my phone tightly in my good hand. Its shattered screen tended to draw the eye- but I figured I’d get it fixed soon enough, when I had a bit of money to spare instead of taking up the guys’ offer of just getting me a new one altogether. They were utter idiots if they thought for one second that I’d ever agree to an offer like that. Though, it had been rather sweet.

But in truth, I only had my phone on me because I’d been waiting on a text. Or a call. Or any sort of notification that would let me know that George hadn’t just gone and disappeared off of the face of the Earth- again. 

Though it seemed to be an ongoing thing with him, something of a hobby now that I’d actually thought about it...

See, after the events that had transpired during his last visit, it was safe to say that I hadn’t heard from him again since he’d left. Which, in itself, had been quite the dramatic exit.

What with Hann having gone off at him whilst the rest of us had been too fucking shell-shocked to try and sort things out between ourselves. George had taken his opportunity and ran with it, darted the second fate had given him the chance. Which had actually been in the arrival of the day-nurse with my breakfast, who’d been awfully surprised by the audience of people, as well as the very tense atmosphere we’d created. 

The lads, well mainly just Ross, had reassured me a few times since then that they’d let George know about my discharge from the hospital, but there hadn’t been any sort of response from him. Not anything of worth at least, unless you considered him blocking me on every social media platform.

Yeah, that’d hurt.

“Love.” Matty called out again with a huffed laugh, gently knocking me sideways.

I blinked out of my stupor and over towards him, “Sorry, what?”

With an exaggerated groan, Matty rolled his eyes at me and fell back onto the bed in a strop. “You know… when they listed off what the fuck was wrong with you, I don’t remember them ever bringing up amnesia.”

“Oh, piss off.” I scowled and tried to swat at him, but I couldn’t hide my slight smile, especially when I carefully lowered myself down to join him, the two of us just sprawled there, sidewards on the sheets. I kicked at his ankle childishly and his legs locked around mine in retaliation. 

“Almost wish I’d been given amnesia if it meant I’d be free of you.” I mumbled, hoping he’d take the bait. 

And he did. Matty gasped brightly and I could only laugh at the indignant expression that overwhelmed his face.

“You prick, take that back!” He practically shouted, slapping the back of his hand against my hip.

“Sorry, no can do, Healy. Lying’s a sin and all that gobshite.”

I received a derisive snort in return but when I glanced over at him, Matty was wearing a fond sort of grin. “Our little atheist, glad to have you back.”

I shook my head in mock exasperation, fighting off a wider smile, and then proceeded to shove at him when he tried to rope me into an awkward sort of hug due to our position. “Oh sod off, would you!”

“Nah, at least not until you say you love me!” He quipped back, burying his chin in my hair. 

“Matty!” I groaned, but ultimately resigned myself to the fact we’d probably be stuck here a while. “You’re actually such a stubborn prat.”

My head reeled back as best as it could into the mattress when Matty’s face suddenly popped into view above me. “Pot, meet kettle.”

Helplessly, I groaned again.

“Knob.”

—

Knock. Knock. 

I looked up from where I’d lazily been packing at the soft sound and smiled when I saw Lee stood in the doorway waiting for me. “Hey.” I greeted him with a soft grin and he returned the sentiment just as easily.

“You got everything?” Lee asked me whilst he made his way over, eyeing what little items remained on the bed. 

“This is the last of it.” I told him, tucking away a folded t-shirt. “Why, you gonna miss me or something?” I questioned with a sly smile, feeling very smug when he laughed and gave me a feeble nod.

“‘Course I will. Besides, you know you’re my favourite patient, what am I going to do without you and all your chaotic fuss?” He quipped and I had to chuckle, feigning a halfhearted glare even as I pointed towards him.

“You say that now, but you’ll be glad for the peace.”

Lee shook his head, wearing a smile that was only ever made for sorrowful goodbyes, and I had to tut at him before I started getting all misty eyed too. I stepped forwards and threw my one good arm round his neck to tug him in.  

“‘M gonna miss you.” I mumbled into his shoulder, silently cursing the tears that had started to prickle behind my eyes. He only hugged me tighter at the admission before we finally parted ways, and I watched as he tried to brave a real smile for me.

“I’m gonna miss you, too. Reckon everyone here will,” Lee sniffed, “You and your boys have made this ward into a VIP lounge of sorts.”

We both snorted at that, knowing it to be all too true. Everyone had been aiming to get a bed in our unit, what with the band coming and going, Matty and all his theatrics. Just thinking about it, it was a massive surprise to suddenly realise that there had been a real lack of paps.

Or maybe, I’d just been shielded from it… I made a mental note to ask one of the lads later on.

“I’ll come visit.” I assured Lee before my face fell into an anxious sort of frown, thinking it over. “Wait, that’s alright, ain’t it? Me stopping by?”

With a simple mirth filled laugh, Lee pulled me into another long hug, “I’m counting on it.”

I hid my smile in the collar of his scrubs.

—

“Oi.” Ross said to me, nudging my knee with his free hand from where he sat in the driver’s seat, it broke me from where I’d previously been watching the world outside pass by. “Was talkin’ to you.” He added.

My brows lifted and I blinked as I turned away from the window. 

“Sorry, just strange being outside again. Feels weird.” I told him honestly, fingers tapping away on the door handle. 

The giant snorted in turn and moved to shift gears. “Like when you get back off holiday weird? Or you’ve been frozen and just woken up, sort of weird?”

“Second. Futurama type shit.” I nodded decisively, eyes skittering over everything we drove by so that I could take it all in. The gossamer sky and its many clouds. The dozens of contradicting faces. Those with their frowns and them with their laughter. Even the postbox got its fair share of gawking. But then I had to shake my head and peer back over at him, “What were you saying anyway? Before.”

Ross blew a soft exhale out of his nose and I watched one side of his mouth quirk upwards slightly. “I asked if you were gonna be alright, camping out at Matty’s place and whatnot. Figured you might’ve finally had enough of the daft idiot.”

I laughed softly and shook my head at him in turn. “Nah, we’ll be alright. Besides, Doctor's said I needed to have someone close by whilst I’m still recovering, didn’t they? And Matty, he offered.” I shrugged, playing with a loose thread on my jeans. “Well, I say offered, he just sort of decided- but I was just grateful for it all the same. I mean, who else would’ve put me up for so long? Not like I could just head on up to my mum’s if I wanted, or have my boyfriend wait on me hand and foot.”

I snorted at the very thought, but it died the second I saw the hardened eyes Ross wore- even with them casted out towards the road. I knuckled his shoulder in hopes to ease his sudden solemn mood.

“Awh, what’s wrong, MacDonald? Sad you didn't get the chance to house me for a couple weeks, ey?”

Ross cracked a smile at that just as the car made a right, he glanced over at me. “Yeah actually. Could’ve had a right laugh me and you together. Plus, nursing you back to health would’ve given me the chance to get out of a couple of these upcoming meetings we’ve got going on.”

My mouth dropped open at the revelation and I flicked his upper arm in retaliation. “Oi, I’m not some helpless pawn you can use!”

With an amused roll of his eyes, Ross flashed me a toothy grin. “I know that- still, would’ve been a win, win though.”

I simply shook my head at his wind up attempt and left the topic to rest.

Trying not to move too much in my seat, despite my discomfort, I let my head loll back against the headrest. “What time did Matty say he’d be back anyway?”

Said prat had gone and dipped out of the ward a little over an hour before I’d been set for release, claiming he had ‘shit to sort out’.

Ross had originally offered to bum us both a lift but in the end Matty had decided on getting himself an Uber after having given the bassist strict instructions on where to collect the rest of my medication and how to get me home. ‘Safe and sound?’ Ross had assumed, but no. Matty had given him quite the detailed description- having already accounted for the journey and its flow of traffic when we'd first received the news- but he’d also had another rant prepared for what would occur if those points were not met.

It’d been a laugh. For me, at least. Ross not so much.

“Uh,” I watched as Ross’s eyes flickered to the dashboard of his swanky motor before he answered me, “Probably be back about the time we are, could already be there.”

His phone dinged then and we both shared a look when a couple more rapidly followed. 

“Guess you’re a psychic, MacDonald.” I told him, then chuckled to myself when Ross winced and moved to turn the radio up, mainly in hopes to drown out the many messages from Matty on his pinging phone.

By the time we pulled up to Matty’s, both Ross and I were rather thankful for the fact that the frontman had seemingly made it back before us, seeing as he’d gone and left the front gate wide open so that the car could graze up the driveway.

I peered as best as I could through the windscreen at the house as I unclipped my seatbelt and Ross turned off the engine. It looked far too still, which always through me off whenever I came over, but even more so than usual. The hospital had been severely overcrowded though, and so it was incredibly bizarre to be welcomed by something so polar-opposite.

“You good?”

Absentmindedly, I nodded at Ross's question and the man took it for what it was, hopping out so that he could grab my things for me. The car was eerily quiet for a brief moment before the boot opened and the sound of rustling and the birds that had nested in the nearby oak tree flooded in. I tried not to focus too hard on the faint buzz that’d started up, deafening my left ear, and instead moved to follow.

“He reckons he left the front door unlocked for us, so just head on in, yeah? I’ll grab this lot.” Ross told me, catching my attention once I’d finally managed to slam the car door shut behind me.

“You sure?” I questioned him, eyes squinted as they got used to the full force of the sun. Even with its sly chill this time of year, London always came with a harsh glare.

“‘Course, go on. I’ll just be a sec.”

I nodded to myself and paced the rest of the way up to the stoop. Luckily, Ross’d been right and the handle gave way with just a gentle push, allowing me to step inside.

“Matty?” I called out, peering my head around the hallway’s first corner to see if he was in the living-room or kitchen. “Matt?” I said again, this time a little louder.

“Yeah! 'M up here!” I heard him shout back, voice muffled and a way away. I frowned but found myself already making a beeline for the stairs.

“What the fuck are you even doing up there?” I asked out loud as I slowly edged my way to the top. “You better not be on the shitter, Matthew! I’ve been there, done that, and would very much not like to relive it.”

I grimaced at the vivid reminder my mind then gifted me. It was safe to say that it hadn’t been the most gracious of days for either one of us. 

See, the tour bus flu was indeed very much real and also a huge fucking menace. Six hours stuck in a moving metal bin fitted with one singular toilet in a bathroom no bigger than a coffin was actual hell when you were yoshing and another person had the shits.

Matty and I hadn’t been able to look one another in the eye for a good while after that. Only forgetting about it when Hann had gone and gotten himself shitfaced after a show and nearly sliced himself in half climbing up the bus’s steps. It had taken us a bit to finally find the humour in it though, still it was not something I’d like to experience again.

“Oh, shove off, you’re dying to catch another glimpse of this arse!” Matty replied and I had to roll my eyes whilst I took a second to catch my breath on the landing. Though it wasn’t too long before I was wandering down towards where I’d heard him shout.

“If I wanted so see something flat and pasty then I’d-”

The words I’d been about to speak were ripped from my lips the second I bypassed one of the many doors Matty’s house had to offer, completely taken aback.

I could hardly blink, let alone fathom it, as I tried to take the entire room in whilst Matty jumped up from where he’d been putting something together down on the floor so that he could flaunt his way over to me.

“Like it?” He questioned me with a sly grin, but I couldn’t find the right response to give him, especially with my jaw hanging by my feet.

It was an absolute contrast to everything the room usually offered. Gone were the beige covered concrete walls that decorated the rest of the house, replaced by a calming white that had been paired with a beautifully muted sage feature wall. The bedsheets had been revived by a lovely floral pattern but softened by a plethora of blankets and pretty pillows.

The expected wooden dresser and side tables had also disappeared and in their place now stood antiques coloured the same as the green wall, with brass handles and etchings. Then by the window there was a large collage of pictures, practically an album plastered there in a spiral which stretched from the window to the far corner. I couldn’t quite get myself to move towards it because I'd been stunned to actual tears.

When I finally looked back to Matty, he wore an anxious sort of smile, one of which was almost a smirk but tinged with a little insecurity.

“Matty, I-” I blew out a breath and glanced around again. “You did this? All this?”

He scratched the back of his neck, gaze skitting about the room with mine. “Yes, no? Dunno, not sure if those tears are a good sign or not, so if they’re bad, it was all Ross, yeah?”

With a soft snort, I gifted him a far too fond smile. “First of all, I’m not crying. And second, why would any of this upset me?”

“Oh yeah, ‘course, how stupid of me. Too cool to show emotion us, eh?” Matty feigned as he dipped his head a couple times and pursed his lips, playing along. “You actually like it then? ‘Cause I sort of came up with it on the spot the other day- picked it all out myself as well. Had Ross and Hann put the dresser and shit together though, then paid some guy to paint for me, 'cause fuck that.”

He shrugged it all off, acting as though the gesture was nothing. But I could tell he was proud, that of his work or my reaction I didn’t know, but it was probably both though knowing him. I had to grin. 

“Thank you.” I whispered with conviction before finally enveloping him in an overdue hug.

“Ah, take it you liked the surprise then?” I heard Ross say as he waltzed in behind us, dropping my stuff just outside the door.

I pulled away from Matty to watch him walk further inside.

“Even set up the steps! Knew you could do it, mate.” He continued, clapping his curly haired mate on the shoulder as he gestured over towards the right side of the bed.

My forehead pinched as I rounded the two to get a better look at what he meant. “What steps?”

Matty was back to looking a little sheepish again and he trailed on over to where a small set of wooden steps resided. He toed at the structure lightly, “Figured you still had a hard time with he hospital beds and this one, well it’s a lot higher. Reckon these will make it a lot easier, innit?”

Wow.

I couldn’t even get past my fish-mouthing before Ross was intervening again. “Go on then, have you tested them out yet?”

Matty’s eyes widened slightly before he laughed and shook his head. “No, man. Finished just up as she walked in.”

So that’s what he’d been doing.

“Well then, best make sure they’re stable enough for her majesty.” Ross cajoled, wearing the slightest hint of a smirk whilst he prodded at Matty’s shoulder. “Can’t be having any more injuries, can we?”

I rolled my eyes, but not even Ross being his usual twattish self could dim my mood.

Matty’s wary gaze darted over to me and I had to hold back a laugh, “Come on, do as the man says.”

I was met with a petulant scowl before Matty finally relented and shimmied his way over towards the steps in a huff. “Why am I always the one getting fucked?” He mumbled under his breath and I had to hide my smile in the cuff of Ross’s shirt when he moved to throw an arm over my shoulders.

“Ah, come on, Healy. Be a good sport, won't you.”

“Yeah, I mean I’d do it but imagine what Dr Mann would say if I’m already in A&E before the days out?”

Matty glared at the pair of us but didn’t comment, instead he put a courageous but cautious foot on the first step. Ross and I stood there with baited breath, waiting in anticipation whilst Matty drew in a shaky lungful of air before finally allowing the step to take the brunt of his weight.

His eyes had been glued shut but when nothing happened he slowly pried one open, the other soon followed when a prideful grin threatened to overwhelm his face. Ross and I cheered loudly in congratulations (and sheer shock), before Matty, in turn, did a silly little bow for us shortly followed by an odd dance.

“Alright, Louie Spence. Calm down before you really do hurt yourself.” I chuckled and took his outstretched hand in mine when he motioned for a bit of help back down.

“And you said I’d fuck it all up.” Matty beamed like the cat who got the cream back at Ross. “Pay up, dickhead.”

I glanced between the pair in rising amusement and observed the way Ross scoffed before he ultimately dug his hand into his back pocket.

“How much did you bet?” I couldn’t help but ask them.

“50 quid said I’d get the ump and give up. 100 if I paid someone else to do it for me. 200 if it broke.” Matty relayed, happily counting the extra notes he’d been handed. 

I laughed at Ross’s prominent scowl before the giant tackled his bandmate onto my freshly made bed.

“No, not the clean sheets!" I gasped, shooing the two. "Get your dirty shoes off my pillows, MacDonald! Oh for fucks sake.”

I should’ve known better than to try and stop them, because even with a broken body they still somehow managed to rope me into their antics.

“Guys!!”

—

Recovery felt much different outside of the ward I'd decided.

There was no proper routine here at Matty’s. And although I was forever grateful to him, for everything he’d done in the build up to my release and for letting me shack up with him for a few weeks, it was also very hard.

I was still in pain. More so, sometimes. There was no Lee here to rely on, and I couldn’t find it in me to burden Matty any further than I already had. Everything felt like a task to me. From sitting up to showering. Or even going to the loo and drinking a glass of water.

I mean don’t get me wrong, the first couple days had been heaven sent. The peace and the quiet. But then the peace had quickly grown tense and the quiet too loud. And I was left stuck here in my own head for hours at a time.

Being out of hospital meant life getting back to normal. It meant days passing without much fuss, friends stopping in but never for too long, meetings and calls and messages- all of which only ever concerned Matty, seeing as Delia had threatened to sack me if I even thought about doing any work whilst I was supposed to be resting. Which meant no emails, or designing.

But the band meetings Ross had previously mentioned a couple days prior appeared to drag on for hours, and Matty would be holed up in his office or the studio for most of the day. Not that I had much room to complain, he had a lively hood and actual shit to do. I couldn't keep interfering with that.

It was just hard. Hard being alone. Hard feeling so isolated. 

Hann was busy with Carly and work, and when he had the time to spare it was mostly spent with us just talking about the new album or how I’d been getting on. Which was nice enough, but I hated lying to him, to everyone really. 

Ross had been back and forth, he’d annoy me for a couple hours whilst Matty was busy and then he’d disappear for a couple days and I’d hear nothing. Maybe a vague text here or a tag on Twitter there, but that was it. 

And me, I was slowly abandoning what little sense of reality I still held onto. 

Things with George hadn’t gotten any easier.

In fact, I started to ignore everything and anything to do with him.

The guys they never mentioned him, not even in passing. But I knew when he’d been around. I could always tell. Ross wouldn’t look me in the eye. Matty told too many jokes. And Hann would give me this pitying expression that made me want to hit him.

I avoided all mentions of him and the band on social media as best I could and had started listening to podcasts through headphones whenever Matty’s music echoed through the house.

It was difficult. Everything felt difficult at the moment. Life did.

And so, almost subconsciously, I’d taken to hiding myself away for longer periods of time. The room Matty had made for me was a safe haven, it made me feel more at home than I would’ve in my own bed. But it was also isolating, being at Matty’s cut me off from the outside world. He had no real neighbours, no local parks or trails to wander, and the only scheduled visitor he had was the cleaner who came in every Wednesday.

My body and I were also on the outs. A little like George and I, I supposed.

It was an evident struggle having to relearn parts of myself. To acknowledge these new scars I had and the thing that came with them. It was still a shock to me each morning to wake up and be reminded of the damage to my ear. To my head. The throbbing migraines that followed, as well as the ringing and the utter silence too.

Most days, I just wanted to scream. Others I wanted to disappear altogether.

—

“Looks to be healing rather nicely. Though I’d be a bit wary about the wound on the back of your head, it seems to be taking a little longer than the rest.” The doctor told me and I simply nodded in return, wanting this whole charade to be over and actively avoiding the tiny mirror adhered to the wall opposite from where I was sat on the bed.

It was just another checkup, I told myself in hopes to calm the nerves. I’d had two in the time I’d been out, and this was just the third.

“What- it isn’t infected is it?”

That was Matty, he’d joined me as per usual.

In my peripheral, I saw the doctor shake her head in response to his question. “No, but I would suggest keeping an eye out for any abnormalities that might arise. Oozing liquids, light throbbing, heat and what not.”

Matty hummed and then proceeded to ask another rapid fire of questions whilst I just stood up and dipped back behind the curtain to change out of the gown they’d given me.

“How long until the cast can come off?” I overheard him say.

“Three weeks, hopefully. Though we’d probably recommend a splint after that. At least until she’s in physio.”

I kept on breathing. In and out. Out then in. Ignoring the muted whispers that followed.

I tugged on the large hoodie Ross had leant me, one that actually covered my cast, then stepped back out. “Are we all done?” I questioned and the woman turned to me with a polite smile, clipboard in hand.

“All good to go. Your prescription should be ready at the front desk, you only need to head to the pharmacy.”

I nodded and quietly thanked her, slipping out of the office and then the unit altogether as quick as my feet would let me. Unaware of the troubled gaze which followed behind me.

—ROSS’S POV—

With a quiet huff and a flick of his wrist, Ross waved off George’s silent question as he tried to pay attention to what Matty had been saying on the other side of the phone. 

The two of them had been holed up in the studio since the early hours of the morning- mostly because he’d been shafted with ‘G Duty’ (a glorified name for babysitting the walking self-destruct button they all called a mate basically)- because the knob hadn’t been sleeping as of late and so he'd decided to come in and work through some things. Not that it’d helped much. They'd gotten fuck all done.

“Say that again, mate. Didn’t quiet catch it.” He murmured into the phone, listening intently even whilst George decided to take a seat near him instead of heading back behind the deck.

“Just- I don’t know what to do, man! She’s been- I don’t know! It’s like she’s turned into a zombie or summat! Lifeless. Dead, almost.” Matty hissed through the speaker, and Ross could practically visualise his turmoil, the way he’d be scrubbing at his face or anxiously tapping his foot.

He sighed heavily to himself. It seemed they’d known one another for far too long.

“She won’t eat, and if she does then it’s only ever in her room. She comes down in the middle of the night and I hear her puttering about down here, she’ll make a tea or something then she’s gone before I can even see her, and I won’t hear a peep til the next evening- that's if I’m lucky.” Matty went on to say, describing to him what the last week or so had been like for the pair of them.

“I’ve tried everything, mate. She doesn’t want to come on a walk, or go to the shops. Even step into the garden, for fucks sake!” He was whispering harshly now and Ross could easily pick up on the stress which lined his tone. “Gimme a sec.” Matty told him after a tense pause had passed and so Ross listened to him faintly pad about his house before a door soon opened.

“You alright?” Ross asked him with a furrowed brow, only glancing up when George shifted slightly beside him. He ignored it for the time being.

“Yeah, yeah.” Matty assured him, albeit a little breathlessly. “Just had to step outside for a fag. Didn’t want her to hear me either.”

“She there?”

Ross could almost hear him shake his head. George shifted again too and so he shot him a dark look in hopes he'd fuck off.

“Nah, in her room." Matty replied, "But I don’t know. Rather not chance it, you know?”

Ross hummed in reply, then inhaled slowly. “How did the check up go yesterday?”

“Fine, I ‘spose. Doctor said her cast could come off soon, so that was a plus. But they're still a little iffy about everything else though, her ear especially…”

“Still can’t hear a thing?” Ross asked, picking at a long thread in the studio’s sofa.

“Nope. Ringing sometimes, she's said. But otherwise nothing. Sometimes I’ll be talking to her about random shit and I’ll see her turn her whole body just so her good ear’s facing me. I dunno if she even notices it.”

“I know, I’ve seen it too.” Ross mentioned gruffly, his chest growing uncomfortable at the thought of it. At the thought of having to see her go through even more heartache. “Did she say anything?”

“Barely spoke a word to me on the way home, mate. Picked up her favourite too.”

“Five Guys.” They both said simultaneously, and Ross’s mouth quirked upwards when he heard Matty’s airy chuckle titter out.

“Yeah, got her usual. But she mentioned having a shower when we first got in and so I left it for her to heat up and went to sort out some crap, but I came down later it was still on the side. And that was hours after we’d got back, man.”

Ross chewed on a loose thumbnail, lost in his own head.

“I just, I don’t know, what if she’s like depressed or something? I mean, I get it. More than fucking most. But her? Seeing her like that... Ross man, it’s killing me.”

“I know, mate. I know. You just gotta hold out, yeah? She’ll bounce back. She always does.” He attempted to reassure, but he was fucking fretting over it all too. How much could a single person suffer through before they just caved in?

“Ross.” Matty paused after he'd said it though and so Ross waited. He listened to his mate work through his tangent of worries, heard his shaky breaths, and just waited.

“What if she doesn’t?” And the tone Matty used was one he’d only ever heard once before, the morning that he’d decided he needed to get clean. 

Ross hadn’t even realised that his jaw was wrenched shut by the grit of his teeth before he went to reply. “Then we be there for her. Like she was for us. Like she’s always been.”

“Right.”

Ross didn’t say anything for a long while and it almost sounded as though the line had gone dead before a loud trembling exhale ripped him from the tension.

“Look, mate. I’ll head on over tonight, alright? Surprise her.” He decided, “Bring dinner or dessert. Fucking whatever. You can go out for a bit. Clear your head. I’ll try and see if I can get her to talk.”

Whilst he listened to Matty ramble away in return, asking if it was a good idea, if he was sure, Ross caught George’s eye from across the sofa before the drummer quickly startled away. Ross watched him closely after that, but still found himself mulling things over. Wondering how he could possibly fix this apocalyptic mess that'd been created. If anyone even could.

But then he decided in that next moment, he at least had to try. 

If not for his own sanity, then for her's.

Part eighteen>

[sol-arise0]

I WILL WRITE TO ALL CUSTOMERS MYSELF WITHIN A WEEK.

(With a detailed text of what happened to me and what we will do next...)

Thank you in advance, if you can read this to the end, there will be a lot of letters about my feelings that I have always held back. But I no longer have the strength to remain silent.

Now there will be a long post about why for more than a year I behaved badly on social networks, practically not posting art. Some of my subscribers have probably seen posts that I had to have two operations (one was on my stomach in 2022, the second on my eye in 2023, and unfortunately both times fell in February, on the eve of my birthday) Now, looking at the past, I understand that this there were the clearest hints that I was mentally ill back then. Because the doctors in both cases said that the reason could be stress, which caused an exacerbation. But it just so happens that I live in a family where we BASICALLY DON'T TALK ABOUT OUR PROBLEMS, essentially downplaying that, wow, it turns out it can be bad mentally, not just physically?

In addition, I am the daughter of my father, whom my whole family sincerely despises for leaving my mother with debts so HUGE that she has been paying them off for 20+ years. I think you understand why my mother feels negative emotions towards me, putting pressure on me, trying to change me. Unfortunately, I now realize that she didn't do any better. For this reason, in the late spring of 2023, I moved into my sister's apartment, during her absence, to keep an eye on it. And feeling that no one is pushing you, how you talk, walk, sleep, eat, that you don't have a boyfriend, you look terrible and other things - it was easier for me. So it turned out that when my sister returned from vacation, I asked her to stay for another while. And well, in short, it was both a good and a terrible time.

In a nutshell, I was working through my problems, and the second dragged myself to the bottom. Of course, because I expected🥹👍 that I would take up painting seriously, working for money🤌, no one would touch me, (I was always a "housewife" in the family house, because we could not hire special people, so to help my mother, I did all the work around the house, garden, and even I helped with the documentation, although I am very inattentive.)

Living with my sister, I realized that all my expectations would crack against mine... Apathy? I don't know what to call this period, but I was just basically a vegetable. I didn't want anything. I got into debt because of this, I couldn't get a job, and drawing made my hands tremble because I had commission that I couldn't finish. And so it turned out to be an endless circle of lack of money and despair - I couldn't finish art cmm, so I couldn't take new ones out of shame, I couldn't get a job, because I didn't even have the strength to go out for a walk. So it turned out that every day I ate kefir with a little bread, because I saved my expenses up to 2.5-3 dollars a day.

Seriously, if my sister hadn't fed me from time to time, I would have gone back AGAIN to the hospital. I understood that everything was going wrong, that it was abnormal, why it turned out that I was so weak, incapable, and more.

And so, we come to the end of the story. I returned to my parents' house because we had earthquakes from winter to mid-spring, and living on the 12th floor you only think about a quick death.:"") I'm going through this mini home hell again, because it's even more fun! My stepfather and mother converted to Islam. Completely. And you probably know that painting, music, open clothes and other things are considered forbidden/sin there. Well, if I used to be neutral about religion, now I'm really AFRAID of it. That one day I will still get caught on gayshit, which drawings I am working on, and I will be beaten like poor girls in Islamic countries. What adds a spark to the situation is that they know what I'm roughly called on social networks (also my older sister, with whom I have smtm conflicts, again fuckin religion!!, SHE IS SUBSCRIBED TO MY INSTA, AND I CAN'T DELETE HER BECAUSE SHE'S A FOOL HAS SEVERAL ACCOUNTS THAT I DON'T KNOW ABOUT) so I think in the near future either to move accounts (insta).

In short, I'm just tired of hating everything and everyone, crying and getting angry, constantly holding back emotions so as not to conflict with my family. Because I know what the hell we've all been through together, that's why I've put up with everything before. And it did me harm, because my creative nature is ready to die from my fears, pain, mood swings and constant pressure. Against this background, I asked a friend to give me a discount so that I could make an appointment with a psychologist at least once (I'm still terribly ashamed, but I hope in the future I'll pay for everything) And she was told that there is a damn suspicion of ADHD!!!! But to prove it, i need to go to a therapist, and this is tantamount to being branded crazy... after all, there are no mental problems unless you have schizophrenia.👍

That's why I'm writing this post. I am sad that I wake up every day thinking that it would be nice to die, and other apathetic thoughts. Now I have to decide to close it all. All debts to customers, all debts to myself, because I know that I am an unloved daughter who knows how to love everyone except herself. Because now, I know that damn it, yes I, yes I'm not talented like my siblings and peers, but I'm good in my own way. It's a shame that it took me more than 10 years of my life and a year of starvation and despair as an insolvent person to understand that I need to mentally support myself, and not shoot myself in the foot with all these nagging and discontent.

That's why I share my plan with the world, because I know that I need support, help, and that it's not a shame to talk about myself and my problems.

- First, i will close my $2,000 debt.

- The second is to set aside at least $1,000 for a deposit for future housing.

- The third and most important thing is to release a project called "ResinRays". This is a large-scale world that was born a long time ago, but was resurrected thanks to a friend who supported me.

Overall, thanks to all my friends, if they didn't tolerate my tantrums, then maybe... I wouldn't write this now. That's why I love them!! 🥹🙏😭💖💖💖

If you have read up to this point, then thank you very much for that!!! It's damn important for me to know that there are those who are willing to at least support me like that! I will be glad to establish contacts and draw again, because let the AI assholes go who think they will kill the creative potential of artists!

[supernovaa-remnant]

so, fireworks. I've been thinking about fireworks specifically in terms of the post canon utah au. new year's. fourth of july. beyond just sitting inside and hearing them, c!dream and c!wilbur eventually get invited to go watch fireworks with people and even get invited to set them off.

c!dream, maybe surprisingly, does pretty good with fireworks. loud noises aren't really a big trigger for him, but fireworks do make him feel a bit floaty, for lack of a better word. it's a bit of an out of body experience, but it's not caused by trauma. I don't know how to describe it, but I get the same way with fireworks sometimes. like you're half lost in a memory but you don't know what memory or if the memory even exists.

it reminds him a bit of doomsday. a bit of that day in the prison. but, mostly, it's just a vague feeling that leaves him feeling floaty. it's really the mix of the sounds, the visuals of the fireworks themselves, and the sky flashing with colors as the fireworks go off.

c!wilbur, though, does not have a good time. which is weird, because obviously he loves explosions, so he really shouldn't have this incessant weight in his chest. It reminds him of the 16th. it reminds him of hearing the fireworks going off before he pressed the button, and then the sound of the explosions, the ringing in his ears, the lead up to thirteen and a half years in that goddamned train station. it reminds him a bit of c!ranboo and the burger van. he always thought he liked explosions, liked how alive they made him feel, but for some reason he feels a bit more like he's dying.

at some point, he starts to have a full blown panic attack. he tries to use the various methods of calming down that his therapist has taught him, but it's so hard to even remember anything when it feels like his lungs are incapable of drawing in air.

c!dream helps.

which. let it be known that c!dream doesn't really know how to calm down another person. he just kinda grabs c!wilbur's hands and then moves to cradle c!wilbur's face. forces eye contact. breathes really dramatically before realizing he should probably have c!wilbur's hand on his chest while doing that.

you'd think that c!wilbur would hate the physical touch—there are a lot of times when physical touch makes c!dream's panic worse—but it surprisingly works. something about the physical contact helps ground c!wilbur in the present. something about c!dream's eyes helps remind c!wilbur of where he is, and it also gives him a nice distraction. he finds himself trying to pick apart c!dream's expression, and he tries to figure out why c!dream is doing this. it gives him something else to focus on, at least.

it helps c!dream a bit, too. it's not that the floaty feeling was unpleasant, per se, but this feels better. it feels nice to repay c!wilbur for the times he's helped c!dream through his panic attacks. it feels nice to make c!wilbur feel better. it feels nice to have physical contact with another person that's on his terms and that doesn't hurt.

much, much later, when they're at a fairly small gathering/party together (probably a fourth of july or new year's party), the fireworks get to c!wilbur again. c!dream holds his hand the entire time, but the host of the get together—someone who works at the animal shelter c!dream volunteers at—notices. they get c!wilbur a pair of noise canceling headphones, and it's kinda at that moment that both c!dream and c!wilbur realize that these new people they've met in this town—these new friends of theirs—are ready to support them even without knowing anything about their past.

[coachbeards]

do you guys ever stop to think about the pressures beard must've felt becoming a coach.

here he is, a recovering drug addict fresh from prison, who only got the job because his best friend vouched for him. not because of skill, necessarily, but because it was a favor. do you think about how their bosses watched beard like a hawk, monitoring both him and ted because the college can't afford to have a drug addict ex con that's on their payroll mess up. beard who became a coach not because it was his passion, but because it was an obligation. beard even said it...that ted gave him a job AND a life. coaching was a purpose, not a passion. a second chance at life, and with that comes a lot of pressure to not mess it up. especially since ted’s job and reputation were also at risk….yeah. lots of pressure.

beard putting lots of expectations on himself, because he had to prove himself to everyone around him. to himself, to ted, to their bosses, to their team, etc. beard had to prove himself. he had to put in so much work, so much effort. spending nights drawing up plans and tactics as proof that he's worthy of sticking around. researching for hours upon hours on football history and stats, because all he ever was was a backup player. and he got to a point where he felt comfortable, but that nagging feeling of needing to be good and the best is still lingering in his brain. the fear that he'll make a mistake big enough to be kicked to the curb, suddenly losing his life and purpose once more.

and i think we still see it a lot in richmond, where no doubt the fears of messing up came back to bite him in the ass. here he is, in the public eye, managing a team that (no diss at their college teams at all, but they're just different levels) actually matters. that actually has weight with the players and the people around them. see his speech in 1x09, yelling at ted because there are consequences to actions. to them getting relegated. because everything matters, of course, but to beard....it makes sense that these consequences weigh so heavily on him. beard might not have the optimism ted has, but there's reasons for it. they lose, nothing that they've done would matter. their progress is void. so they can't mess up. they can't afford to lose, because beard is physically incapable of not seeing bad things coming from miles away.

in beard after hours, we see beard blame himself for losing the man city match. his hallucinations point out his flaws, that he Should've done something else. coach beard is ted lasso's number two. he's supposed to challenge him, not just be a sniveling lackey. like....there's a lot of self worth issues that beard has had his entire life, but being a coach really does fuel it. the weight of it all, the scrambling to make right decisions, beard blaming himself for losses.........yeah.

i just think there's always been an undercurrent to how beard feels about coaching, connecting his self worth with how he performs on the pitch or in the coaching office. this isn't to say that beard doesn't love coaching, because of course he does.....but when you become a coach as a way to be rescued from drug addiction/yourself.......you'd definitely have complicated feelings towards it. having to do things right, having to be good at it, it's probably where a lot of beard's competitiveness comes from...........that nagging fear of his.

[ginneke]

POV

Prompt list here: [link] POV — something that’s already happened, retold from another character’s perspective

--

Original scene from A Seed of Song - Chapter 4 Some Revali perspective for you all. And this prompt+idea inspired me enough to make it a long one. Approx 600 words. (I might have to start a SoS ficlet collection at this rate...)

--

That thing is fast, for its size.

Of course, Revali is faster. But that doesn't count for much when his foe is of such outrageous physical proportions. Against a normal Kargarok, his speed and command of the sky would outclass even a swarm.

Against this mutant, it's all he can do to maintain enough distance to line up a shot.

Its body is well-armoured; his bomb arrows glance off, incapable of damaging the plating across its wings, its neck, its head, and Revali has enough of a job evading its attempts to knock him from the sky to seek out an alternative target.

Its feet don't look to be armoured, but he can't orchestrate enough of an opening to take advantage of that observation.

He snarls, tumbling out of range of its attempt to snatch him with those wicked talons. By the time he rights himself, buffeted off course by the turbulence from those vast wings, it is well out of easy range.

It turns a wide arc, one eye fixed on him, and prepares to make another pass.

Think — think! Revali refuses to go down against an oversized mutant. His pride won't allow it. And if its attention were to leave Revali, for whatever reason, it is bound to turn next to Li—

The chick. He swore to see it safely to Rito Village. He won't allow that promise to be broken. He cannot permit it.

Revali flips his bow from his curved talons, and in one fluid motion, he aims a trio of arrows directly into the mutated Kargarok's face.

Though the creature is frustratingly immune to the attack, it lacks the intelligence to know that. It veers off target. Revali seizes the opportunity to call up his Gale and escape to a higher altitude.

Think.

What would she have done?

Revali had only ever fought off one Kargarok swarm, when - just a few years back - a colony had attempted to establish itself on the far side of Passer Hill, only for their nests to be shattered against the rocks and the foul creatures slain or routed. But that colony had been the first sighting in almost a decade. None had ever made it so close to Lake Totori while she patrolled the southern frontier. She had made driving off the Kargaroks her life's work, keeping them from pushing north towards Rito Village; even a hatchling hadn't slowed her down.

(She never allowed them to so much as glimpse him. Chicks, and even fledglings, were easy prey to a Kargarok.)

"Stay low," she'd told him, as soon as he was old enough to understand the order, and, "Don't come out." Her words had promised safety. He'd believed them.

(He still remembers that moment, the small and bright figure hung in the sky, sunlight glinting on dark green feathers before that distant form turned to a dive, to freefall, to — )

Feint. Draw it away. That's the way to do it. That's the way she always did it. It had almost always worked.

When it tries to come for him again, Revali is resolved, ready.

He veers out of range at the last possible second, lets the turbulence buffet him. Though it goes against his instincts, though ceding the open sky is the last thing he would have chosen, Revali surrenders to the sensation of freefall.

(He won't let the same story play out again.)

The only clue that his descent is not so uncontrolled as it appears… is the bow clutched tight in the curl of his left foot.

(He'll defeat this thing.)

The creature shrieks and dives after him, and as the cliffs of Tanagar Canyon rise up to swallow them both, Revali allows himself the briefest flicker of satisfaction.

It took the bait.

It can't go after Li— the chi— them. He won't allow it.

He'll defeat this thing here and now.

(He has to.)

[twotailednekomata]

He~llo, y'all (^･ω･^)ﾉ" ! I recently played some Lifegen and decided to doodle the MC (⬆️), which later snowballed into a bunch more doodles so I've decided to show them here ˄·͈༝·͈˄

As I just mentioned earlier, this is the MC. Her name is Freezepaw (she/her) and she is a warrior apprentice with the traits 'cunning' and 'always learning'. She was quite a mature kit and always checked on her close one's health to make sure they were alright but that didn't mean she was incapable of mischief >:3 She loves to learn, even if it means she pushes for answer too much and prefers if things go to plan.

As you might be able to guess, I picked her because of her heterochromia but also because of her kit traits, 'leader-like' and 'always learning'. These felt like traits that would encourage me to become clan leader and flesh out the world of my clan.

I didn't draw her kit-life, so for a brief summary: Freeze was found next to her dead, very young (19 moons old!) father, alongside four other littermates. They were all community raised, with their primary care-givers being the queen apprentice and a cat named Lilacburn (he/him). Over time, Freeze formed closed bonds with other cats (up to and including the deputy and an older healer). Freeze's desire to lead was inspired by the time the clan leader sheltered her from the rain and the kindness he showed during that, hoping to do the same with her clanmates.

<< "I'm so proud of you" >>

Based on a 'mentor congratulates you' prompt. I will mention now that our mentor is a cat named Tanglebelly (xe/xem/xir) and xe is the mate of the deputy and parent to the queen.

Freeze always wanted Tangle to be her mentor due to xir connections to the deputy :3

<< Bonewhisker

Rivernose >>

A random patrol I'd doodled. Bone (they/them) and River (she/her) got drenched in rain while trying to hunt. River is one of Lilacburn's kits and, despite her lonesome trait, she and Freeze get along and trust each other.

Now we've met Freeze's mentor, Tanglebelly, and one of her friends, Rowanpaw (she/her)! Freeze and Rowan wanted to hang out with each other and Rowan's mentor happened to be sick so Tangle decided to host tree climbing sessions for the both of them.

Freeze excelled the task which had both Tangle and Rowan impressed.

Side note: Tanglebelly traits are 'lonesome', 'team player' and 'great mediator', an interesting combination. I, unfortunatly, don't remember Rowan's apprentice traits but she was a little (or should I say, big) goober ˄·͈༝·͈˄

<< "I, Freezepaw, am a mousebrain" >>

The cat in the bottom right corner is Premafrostpaw (she/her). She dared her littermate to jump onto the Wooden Icicles (A big, spindly, twiggy tree the leader uses to make announcements) and proclaim that she is a mousebrain.

Freeze saw no problem with the dare, seeing it as a great opportunity to practice being leader as well as an excellent challenge to practice her climbing skills.

Premafrost loved the faux leader declaration.

Side note: To quote myself:

'Premafrost has a [feistiness] and a spice to her, always ready to get into a physical brawl, if need be. However, that doesn't [mean] she will scracrifice her relationships with her siblings >:3'

...I just now learned that I've misspelt 'Permafrost' this entire time. Welp, it's a bit too late to change the typo so that's staying as her name.

<< Parsley (she/her): "Thanks guys. I thought I was gonna die!"

Premafrost: "No problem"

Rowan: *nod* >>

All of these apprentices mentors were out of the count so what did they do? Sneak off to do some training of their own :D !

Unfortunately, Parsleypaw got caught by a falling tree and pinned to the ground. Luckily, the others managed to free her but that was still quite an experience.

Side note: Parsley is Rowan's littermate and another friend of Freeze. When they were all kits, Parsley was one of the mature ones (alongside Freeze), always keeping an eye on them all and making sure they don't get hurt. In fact, when she was one moon old, she did an impressive dance routine.

I know Parsley and Rowan don't look like littermates now but that gets fixed, trust me.

<< ---Live like the water---

✩⋆｡ ˚ Freezepaw ⋆｡˚✩ >>

This and the last two happened on the same moon, when Freeze was 9 moons old.

Here, she visits the moon place (I don't have a special name for it yet but the in-game artwork looks like a tree sapling) and gets some advice from a cat that died Moon 1.

I wonder if this advice will lead to something...

<< Freezestrike!

Freezestrike!

Freezestrike! >>

Freezestrike graduated early at 10 moons old thanks to Lifegen patrols. She was honoured for her hard work.

<< Meanwhile... >>

<< Harefern (he/him): "I'm getting... siblings." >>

So around the same time Freeze graduated, Tangle announce that xe is expecting kits and let's just say that xir son, and the clan's sole queen, Harefern, is a little taken aback by the news.

Sidenote: Hare, in-game, has the traits 'lonesome' and 'efficiency aficionado', which describes him quite well. He enjoys the quite atmosphere when the nursery isn't occupied, not bothered by it at all, and he takes his job very seriously. He plans ahead to make sure everything is prepared, tries to pick activities that complement kits' personalities and teaches kits important life management skills.

Even after she is out of the nursery, Freeze likes to check on him, from time to time, to make sure he is alright.

<< Harefern: *talking about Parsely*

Freezestrike: (///∇//✿) >>

Freeze decides to visit Hare this moon to talk about the recent news and it ended up with Hare talking about her totally not-crush, Parsley.

(Not that your hiding it well, girl. You and Parsley talk and hang-out with each other all the time.)

<< Freeze -----> Got a log to the hunches <----- Parsley >>

Freeze's first patrol out (⋈◍＞◡＜◍)。✧♡ ...Annddd she got trapped by a falling tree. She's find, but still. At least you and Parsley can form a club now ¯\_(シ)_/¯

Also, yes, I've tweaked Parsley's design and the scratched-out sketch to the left was my attempt to draw Freeze while she was trapped.

.

I drew nothing for Moon 12 (/when Freeze was 11 moons old. Clan age and MC age have a difference of 1) but Freeze, while guarding camp, reflected on how far she had come on her journey.

Also, Freezestrike uses he/she pronouns now.

<< warrior, lonesome, polymath, 12 moons, roe skull

Freezestrike >>

Look at the boy! She's all grown up -`ღ´- ! Let's hope that his future is full great times ahead!

.

.

.

[lollytea]

Random thought: Huntlow Sleeping Beauty AU, Willow is the only one who is able to get to Hunter's tower because she's using her plant magic to make the briars let her through. Maybe she's able to convince them she's trying to help him. It could be a metaphor for something.

I love fairytale type AUs/scenarios and this ask just filled my head with some wishy washy ideas but nothing all that solid to stand on. I don't know the big picture here. Just some vague concepts.

Established huntlow for this. Or possibly very very close friends with a lot of romantic tension that they're both kinda aware of but they haven't talked about it. Doesn't matter. Either way, they are in love. Sheltered prince and chivalrous peasant girl who send each other secret love letters and have sneaky little rendezvous all over town whenever they get the chance.

Hunter has become a lot more rebellious because of Willow's influence and in addition to their little forbidden romance, he's also been studying wild magic. Ever since he's seen some of Luz's glyphs, he's been determined to practise the technique himself. He's currently at the point where he's experimenting with combos. With Willow's magic expertise, they've put their heads together and have actually come up with some really powerful plant spells. Having Willow on board with the experiments is super helpful, as she's the only one who can entirely understand some of the more complicated spells they've created. Even Hunter is a little unsure of the specifics.

Anyway, as destiny dictates, Hunter eventually has to learn the truth about The Horrors. About his life, himself, his family and his uncle. Hunter makes a run for it but Belos sends the scouts after him, fully intending to drag him back and kill him. He can't have Hunter running around free. He knows too much and blabbing about it could make this whole plan very difficult.

Hunter narrowly escapes the castle with his life but not before getting hit by a curse from one of the bards. He's pretty sure it was an attempt at a sleep spell but the clumsy technique corrupted it into something a little more dangerous. The thing about sleep spells is they're instantaneous but very temporary. So you can knock somebody out immediately but they'll rouse themselves awake usually within an hour. But this is different. Hunter did not fall unconscious once the spell hit him but he did feel it in his system. And he knew that the next time he fell asleep, the curse would take effect and he wouldn't wake up.

Which Hunter simply could not swing right now. Because he needed to warn people about what Belos was planning. Granted, he still had plenty of time before this plan was to be executed. But now he was a wanted fugitive, there was a huge reward over his head and the whole titandamn Isles was hunting him. He wasn't gonna survive like this. If they caught him, they'd take him to Belos and he'd be killed. So he needs to stay on guard. But he can't fight off the curse forever. Eventually he'll fall asleep and then he'll be a sitting duck and someone's bound to find him eventually.

With the last of his energy, Hunter ran. He ran until he found that abandoned tower and he burst inside and began drawing all over the walls like a lunatic. Glyph after glyph, merging and tangling together. He drew until he was was physically incapable of continuing. Then he activated the spell and collapsed to the ground.

Vines, brambles, briars, nettles, slithering carnivorous blossoms. They all burst from the walls and encased the tower like an impenetrable puzzle box.

Nobody would be able to find Hunter. Nobody would be able to touch Hunter.

But as he closed his eyes, he was calm. He wasn't scared that he wouldn't wake up again.

Because there was only one person in the entire Realm who would be able to unlock this work of magic.

And Hunter trusted her to find him.

[legolasbadass]

Office Hours, Part 28

Summary: Lorelei Browning has just secured a job as an assistant professor at Exeter College in Oxford. Naturally, she is eager to prove herself and meet every challenge sent her way, but what she does not expect is the tall, handsome stranger who will quickly become much more than a colleague…

Relationship: Richard Armitage x OC (Professor AU)

Word Count: 3.2k

Rating: E

A/N: Hello my lovely readers! I want to apologize for the long wait for this chapter; for many reasons, I found myself with no motivation or interest in editing this chapter and get it ready to post. But hopefully, I will be back to more regular updates, and I hope that you can forgive me for my absence and that you are still interested in Lorelei and Richard’s story! If you are, I thank you from the bottom of my heart, and I will shut up now so you can get to what you’ve been waiting for ❤️

Special thanks to @lathalea​ for listening to me whine and for being extra supportive and giving me invaluable feedback ❤️

Read on AO3

Later that day, I arrive at Richard’s house and sneak upstairs. I do not have long to prepare; when I told him I would be waiting for him, he told me he would be home no later than 5 pm, and it is now 4:30. I hasten to change into his favourite black lace set—just as he asked me to—then step into the bedroom, making sure that everything is in place. The lights are dimmed as I sit on the bed, impatiently waiting for him to come home. In the tight corset and sheer knickers, I feel desirable, and already, the small patch of fabric covering the most sensitive part of my body is soaked with my arousal. When I close my eyes, I see him sitting at his desk, his head thrown back as I kneel before him, my mouth wrapped around his hardness. My heart hammers against my ribcage, and when, at last, I hear the front door opening downstairs, a thrill of anticipation runs through my whole body.

“I’m home!” Richard announces. 

“I’m upstairs!” I call back in a slightly trembling voice. As soon as I hear the distinct creaking of the stairs that announces his approach, an urge to laugh surprises me, either due to excitement or nervousness—or both. But I force myself not to by biting my lower lip. 

Then he enters the bedroom. 

At first, he seems surprised to find me here, but then he gazes upon my body, lingering on my barely covered breasts and my naked thighs, and his eyes darken. A question burns in his eyes, but he seems incapable of forming words as he swallows heavily. 

“I told you I’d be waiting for you,” I say in what I hope is a seductive voice. 

Richard nods slowly, a smirk playing on his lips. “You did, but I wasn’t expecting such a pleasant welcome.” 

He takes a few steps forward, then kneels before me, gently spreading my legs apart to stand in the space between them. The sleeves of his tweed blazer graze my thighs as he reaches out to caress my navel with his fingertips, staining my skin with goosebumps. My breath hitches in my throat, and he smirks. 

“You’re already so desperate for me, aren’t you?” he murmurs in a low, rumbling voice that draws a needy sigh from my lips. “I can see it in your eyes … and smell it on your skin.” As he says so, he buries his face in my neck and inhales deeply before pressing a lingering kiss on the sensitive spot below my ear that he knows so well. I cannot help but whimper, causing him to smirk. He pulls away then—much too soon for my liking—but the intensity in his deep blue eyes makes me forget about the disappointment almost instantly. In the low light, his skin appears softer and his beard darker, and I caress every detail of his handsome face with my eyes before focusing on his lips. His irresistible lips. I can feel the desire flowing between us like it is a physical thing—a rope that pulls us toward each other—and when his tongue slips out of his mouth to wet his lower lip, it is as though he has tightened his hold on that rope. In an instant, our lips crash together in a hungry kiss filled with so much urgency and passion that I know he, too, must have spent the whole afternoon yearning for this moment. As our tongues fight for dominance, I reach out to hold onto his shoulders and bring him down with me onto the bed,  spreading my legs further apart to welcome all his glorious weight on me. The cold metal of his belt buckle presses into my naked skin, but it only fuels the fire burning in my core. 

Richard’s lips press wet kisses along my jaw, then down my neck, before dipping lower. I gasp as his tongue caresses the exposed skin of my breasts above the corset, and I suddenly long to feel his tongue between my thighs. I must have managed to express that desire, or Richard was craving the same, because soon, he kneels on the floor on the edge of the bed in the space between my legs. My breath hitches in my throat at the love and lust burning in his eyes as he drags my laced knickers down my legs with tantalizing slowness. Then he caresses every inch of my legs with his large hands, from my ankles all the way to my thighs, where he presses a series of lingering kisses, inching closer to my core but never settling there, driving me wild with need. As if the long day had not been torture enough. 

“Don’t make me beg,” I whine as I reach out to bury my fingers in his hair and try to bring him closer to me, causing him to chuckle. 

Never tearing his eyes from mine, he finally buries his face between my thighs, and the first flick of his tongue against my heat sends a swirl of pleasure through me. But to my frustration, he pulls away almost immediately. 

“You’re so wet already,” he rasps, and the low rumble of his voice goes straight to my core. “Have you been thinking about me all day?” 

My whole body blushes as he gazes intently at me. The desire tingling through me makes it difficult for me to speak, but I know he will not offer me the release I seek unless I answer him. 

“Yes,” I reply breathlessly, raising my hips toward him. “And I promise I didn’t touch myself. I was waiting for you.” 

Richard growls—a deep, hungry sound that only makes me more desperate for him. “Good girl.” 

And with that, he returns his attention to the heat between my legs. He slowly, teasingly trails his tongue along my folds before reaching my clit, and I cry out as he sucks on it with every hint of pleasure. While he feasts on me, he caresses my thighs and spreads my legs further apart, and all I can do is surrender to him, drunk on the intense pleasure he sparks in me. My thighs tremble as he keeps me suspended on the edge of release, teasing me mercilessly. But he cannot control himself, and soon, he sends me over the edge, and my moan echoes through the room as he lets me ride out each tingling wave of my orgasm. 

My breathing is loud and uneven as Richard scatters kisses along my thighs, then over my corset, before reaching my lips. I can taste myself on him, and his beard is damp against my cheeks. We pull apart a while later, breathless, our lips swollen. He hastens to shrug off his blazer, carelessly tossing it to the floor, but before he can reach for the buttons of his shirt, I stop him; I have been dreaming of undressing him all day—he is certainly not about to deprive me of this pleasure. I raise myself to stand on my knees on the bed to reach Richard’s height, then slowly caress his chest with my fingertips, my nails gently scratching his nipples. He sighs heavily, and I look up to see him fighting to keep his eyes open. 

“You little tease,” he murmurs with a smile. 

I lean in until my lips are mere millimetres away from his. “I’m not a tease—I fully intend to finish what I started.” As I say so, I lower my hand to trail my fingers over the bulge in his trousers, revelling in his responding groan. 

Button by button, I loosen his shirt, then push it down his shoulders to reveal his solid chest and the pale hairs that beg for my touch. I vividly remember the first time I undressed him, in this very room; somehow, he has only grown more handsome, more irresistible, with each day I have loved him. His growing hardness presses into my hands as I unbutton his trousers, distracting me as much as his heated gaze, which follows each of my movements as though he is under a spell. Then, I push his briefs down his legs along with his trousers, and his hands dig into my already tangled hair. I can tell he struggles to remain gentle as my lips leave a wet path over his throat, and before I can touch him, he tightens his hold on my hair and pulls, forcing me to meet his gaze.

“God, Lorelei,” Richard groans and swallows heavily. Then, resting one hand over the swell of my breast, he squeezes and says, “As much as I love that corset, I want to see you. All of you.” 

I offer him what I hope is a seductive smile before pressing a soft kiss onto his lips, my hands resting against his chest. “Lie back.” 

Richard returns my smile and lies back on the bed. Sparks tingle along my spine when I move to straddle him and his hardness meets the damp heat between my legs. His large hands settle themselves on my hips, kneading the flesh impatiently as I slowly unhook my corset, then let it slip through my arms, exposing the hardened peaks of my breasts to his eyes. But before he can touch me, I regain control and say, “I want to try something different. Do you trust me?” 

“Of course,” he replies without hesitation, his voice raspy and laced with lust as he gazes deeply into my eyes. 

My heart hammering in my chest, I reach for the ribbon I left on his nightstand. The question I struggle to formulate hangs in the air between us, but no words are needed for Richard to understand, and his eyes darken. 

“Will you let me?” 

His large hands dig into my hips as he swallows heavily and nods. “God, yes.” 

Smiling shyly, I try to remain gentle as I lift his hands and tie them to the bed frame. 

“Is it too tight?” 

“No, it’s fine,” he replies, wiggling his fingers to prove his point. 

“You’ll tell me if it hurts, right?” 

A soft laugh tumbles from his swollen lips as he looks up to meet my gaze. His voice is deeper when he speaks next, sending shivers down my spine. “I am absolutely fine, love. In fact, you can tie me up like this whenever you want.” I chuckle, warmth blooming on my cheeks, but then he adds, “But don’t worry—I’ll let you know if it hurts.” 

Grateful for his reassurance, I nod, then lean back to admire my work. His arms are stretched out over his head, and the firmness of his biceps is clear in the low, warm light of the bedside table lamps. His chest rises and falls in an uneven rhythm, and when I press a hand just above his navel, he groans and arches into my touch. Heat pools between my thighs; seeing him like this, so vulnerable and desperate as he eagerly submits himself to me, is incredibly intoxicating, and all I want to do is take him inside me and ride him until we reach the heights of our passion. But I force myself to be patient. I want to draw this out for as long as possible—to tease him until he can do nothing but beg for me. 

Fuelled by the desire in his hooded eyes, I press my lips against his neck, inhaling the heady scent of his arousal as his beard scratches my sensitive skin. From there, I trace a path toward his collarbone, then down to his pectorals, covering them in wet kisses before pulling with my teeth. He groans and lifts his hips toward me, and I can feel my own response to him flaring in my core as he hardens further. Purple marks bloom on his heated skin, and I slowly lick them before looking up at him, unable to hide my smirk as his breathing grows louder. 

“I won’t last if you go on like that,” Richard says with a soft, breathless laugh that sends a flutter through me. 

“I’ve barely touched you,” I reply in the same tone, and he smiles.

“You don’t need to. I could come just by looking at you.” 

Does he have any idea what he does to me when he says things like this? 

Unable to hold back, I slowly move against him. In response, Richard groans and pulls at the restraints, but the knot holds. The pressure turns his wrists red, which only seems to fuel his passion. Certainly, it only heightens my already fervent need for him, buzzing incessantly between my thighs. 

“Oh, please, Lorelei, sweetheart … I need you…” 

His words fade into a moan as I rub myself against him, this time more purposefully, my restraint crumbling with each shaking breath I take. A heady feeling of power surges through me as I meet his eyes and, at last, take him inside me. I lazily roll my hips as I sink onto him, inch by delectable inch, and he arches into me, fighting to go deeper and faster. Basking in the heat of his gaze, I grant him his wish. I steady myself with both hands on his solid chest and intensify my movements, and each time he fills me completely, brushing against that sensitive spot deep inside me, sparks erupt through my whole body. My thighs tremble from the exertion and the force of the orgasm mounting inside me, but I am determined to bring him the same pleasure he continues to give me, day after day. Richard is usually in control in bed, but now it is my turn to show him how much I love him—show him that I am entirely, ardently committed to him and he can trust me with every part of his heart. He is already close—I can feel it in his uneven breaths and the way he groans and throws his head back as he thrusts into me—and it does not take long before we both succumb to each other, moaning each other’s names as wave after wave of pleasure consumes us. 

Eons later, as our loud, uneven breaths fill the room, I collapse onto Richard’s chest. My legs burn, and I can hear his heart beating out of control, and yet, a comforting peace reigns over the bedroom. Then Richard takes another shaky breath, and I chuckle. 

“Are you alright?” I ask as I look up to him. 

He blesses me with a soft, satiated smile. “I’m fine, but I’m an old man—it takes me a little while to recover after you tie me up and ride me like that.” Heat floods my cheeks as I giggle and lean in to kiss his bearded chin. Then he groans. “Sweetheart, please untie me now. I want to hold you.” 

Smiling, I move away from him and hasten to untie him, then snuggle deeper into his embrace as he wraps his arms around me and squeezes me tight. My heart is warm and light as he presses a lingering kiss atop my head, and I feel as though I could remain like this forever. Thankfully, as the term is over, neither of us has anywhere to go tomorrow, so I can look forward to more hugs like this all throughout the night and into the morning. 

“I missed this,” I murmur into his neck as I breathe in his comforting scent. 

“Me too,” Richard replies before kissing my forehead. “The term was really hectic.” 

“Yeah, it was.” Despite myself, I tense at his words as the uncertainty and suspicion at the back of my mind tighten their hold on me. “But we have three whole weeks until the spring term now, so you should have fewer things to worry about … right?” 

“Hm.” He seems lost in his thoughts now, and I open my mouth to question him further when he suddenly says, “We should go on holiday somewhere in the summer.” 

I am surprised but overjoyed by his words, even despite the less-than-obvious change in subject. “That’s an idea! Where would you like to go?” 

As he ponders over my question, he tightens his hold on me and turns us over so we are lying on our sides facing each other. “Somewhere warm.” 

“Oh—definitely. I’m sick of this rain,” I reply. “How about somewhere with a beach?” 

A naughty smile illuminates his face. “Hm, you in a bikini for a week? I won’t say no to that.” 

My laughter echoes through the room as I shake my head. “I bet you don’t look terrible at all in swim shorts,” I say, feeling warm as the image of him sitting at the beach in only his shorts, his tanned skin gleaming in the sunshine, flashes in my mind. 

Richard chuckles, then says, “How about somewhere on the coast of Italy? I haven’t been in years.” 

“Oh yes!” I gasp excitedly. “Sunshine, wine, good food—that sounds perfect.”

“And don’t forget you in a very revealing bikini….” 

“You’re impossible!” I giggle as I playfully slap his shoulder. 

His rumbling laughter nestles itself in my heart before we share a soft, open-mouthed kiss, but then his phone buzzes on the floor, and he pulls away. 

“Hey—ignore it!” I groan in protest, already missing his warmth, as he leans over the edge of the bed to retrieve his phone. He chuckles, and I expect him to tease me about my clinginess, but then he seems to tense. “Richard?

“Sorry—I just need to take a look at something.”

With that, he rises from the bed, keeping his back to me, and reaches for his discarded briefs. 

“What is it?”

“Just something regarding some research. I need to check on my computer quickly.” 

“Right now? Really?” I ask, failing to hide my annoyance, but then guilt crawls up my back. “Don’t take too long,” I add with a playful pout to alleviate the tension, though my heart tightens in my chest. 

He offers me a small smile and leans in to kiss my cheek before stepping out of the bedroom, but I can tell, if only by the stiffness of his shoulders, that something is troubling him. Once alone, I collapse onto the bed, staring at the ceiling. I cannot bear the distance that has settled between us, and despite all my efforts to be patient with him and not pressure him, I know that I need to say something—before everything is once again ruined. 

Slowly, I stand and reach for Richard’s discarded button-up shirt. It is much too big for me, reaching down to my mid-thighs, and I have to roll up the sleeves, but I love that it smells like him. However, as comforting as his scent is, it cannot alleviate the knot in my stomach. I am only just sitting back on the bed when he appears in the doorway, his hair even more unruly than before, and my heart drops to the bottom of my stomach when I notice the deep frown on his face. 

“What’s wrong?” 

Richard sighs as he runs a hand over his face. “I—I need to tell you something.” 

Taglist: @lathalea​ @linasofia​ @fizzyxcustard​ @bitter-sweet-farmgirl​ @i-did-not-mean-to​ @xxbyimm​ @middleearthpixie​ @enchantzz​ @myselfandfantasy​ @notlostgnome​ @laurfilijames​ @swoopswishsward​ @quiall321​ @dianakc​ @sazzlep @albionscastle​

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[justastrugglinghotchocolate]

💪🏽 I am in a desperate need of Dasil

This went from "funny fic about Dorian picking up Basil" to "Dorian and Basil have a genuine conversation about had Basil treats Dorian and learn things about each other ft. bridal carry"

This is technically for the og book, but you could see it as a prequel to The Losing Game or set in a Modern AU

AO3 Link (if it's easier ^-^)

~~~~

Dorian had many talents. He was a brilliant pianist, he could draw quite well, he could act decently when needed, and he looked stunning at all times with little effort. However, there was one very important thing that Dorian could not do:

Pick up Basil.

It made sense; Basil was tall and his body naturally dense, despite his rather lean figure. It didn’t help that Basil grew bashful and shy whenever he so much as looked at him. Really that man reminded Dorian of a sweet little turtle—hard shell, but so shy and always trying to hide his head in his coat.

Dorian might have let the inability slide—there were many other things he couldn’t do like tying a necktie or immediately tell his left from right—had Henry been as incapable. But on one sunny afternoon, he watched the lord lift a laughing Basil up a few inches off the ground. The artist had looked so happy, his smiling face illuminated in the warm orange glow of the sun despite how his coal black hair tried to soak it in. And when he saw how Basil had looked down at Henry with a look of pure affection and adoration—Dorian knew he had to do it too.

He started his process by cornering Lord Henry at a party and demanding to know everything about picking up Basil. 

“Pick him up?” Henry chuckled. “Dorian, you don’t have to do anything at all. Basil’s already enamored with you—tell him that you want to lay with him and he’ll worship your feet.”

Dorian blinked, “But I don’t want him to worship my feet. I want to pick him up.”

Henry smiled, “Yes, you’ve said. And as I’ve said, simply tell him you want him. You’ve already won his affection, picking him up shouldn’t be hard—you won’t have to play much of a game.”

“‘Game?’ What are you—?” Dorian shook his head, “Harry. I want to physically lift Basil in my arms.”

The lord stopped mid sentence and Dorian had the rare split-second joy of watching Lord Henry’s brain buffer as he tried to save face. He eventually forced out a laugh and patted the young man’s back rapidly.

“I know, Dorian.” Henry quickly tried to maintain his composure and appearance. “‘Physically pick up Basil’—I did understand you—”

“You had no idea what I meant.”

Henry excused himself from the conversation, citing boredom for his early departure. Dorian let him go, unimpressed and still nowhere closer to lifting up his favorite artist. He’d have to figure this out on his own.

He considered making himself stronger through exercise. He had a friend in the Guards who was more than willing to help him. After a single session, Dorian realized he’d rather die than do a ‘push-up’. He turned his focus to innovation, throwing himself into strategy books he had accidentally stolen from Alan Campbell.

Dorian would need to account for both Basil’s physique and his own. While Dorian couldn’t lift a thing, he certainly could hold them and, since Basil was tall, it wouldn’t be efficient to start from the ground up. Somehow he needed to elevate Basil. 

That night, as he flung himself into bed, an idea came to him. He fell asleep easily, eager to test out the idea the next day. 

…

The next day he arrived outside of Basil’s home. Instead of immediately alerting the artist of his presence, Dorian balled up the scarf he had brought with him and threw it into the great tree in Basil’s garden. It took a few tries, but finally he got the scarf to stay in the tree.

With a wide grin that he quickly hid, Dorian rapidly knocked on Basil’s door.

Basil opened the door with a concerned look, “Dorian? Has something happened?”

“My scarf got stuck in the tree!” the youth said, clutching at his chest. He batted his eyes, “Basil, will you please get it down for me?”

Basil stared at the man in confusion, but nodded his head and with long strides walked over to the tree with Dorian’s scarf. As he reached for it, Dorian quickly grabbed the small stool he knew Basil kept foyer and rushed to bring it to Basil. He slammed it down into the ground in front of the artist.

“It’s on a higher branch, so you’ll need to stand on this!” he said quickly.

Basil stared at him, “Dorian, are you feeling quite alright?”

“Yes.”

“Well, I’ve already gotten your scarf down,” the painter smiled, offering it to the youth.

Dorian’s eyes widened and he stammered, “That—I brought a different one today, that’s not it.”

Basil furrowed his brow, “You… brought two scarves?”

“Yes—no!” Dorian grabbed Basil’s arm and began pulling him to stand on the stool. “I lost that scarf when I last visited you!” “Why didn’t you tell me?” Basil asked. “Dorian, are you feeling alright?”

“Yes, now just stand on this!”

“Why?”

“Because—because—” Dorian made a frustrated noise, hissing, “Just get on the stool, Basil!”

Nervously, Basil did as Dorian requested, grabbing one of the branches to steady himself as he looked through the tree. For a moment neither spoke. Then in a small voice, Basil said, “I’m sorry, Dorian, but I don’t see a scarf here.”

As hard as he could, Dorian kicked the stool underneath Basil. Unfortunately, because of how hard he’d placed it down earlier, it had been pushed deeply into the ground. His kick only resulted in him stubbing his toe against the hard wooden stool as it gave a small jerk upon impact. Basil slightly lost his balance, but grabbed the tree branches to keep steady. In a panic, he glanced back down at Dorian who looked like he was trying hard not to cry.

“Dorian, what’s wrong?” Basil clambered down the stool. “Should I get you ice?”

“No!” the younger man, stamping his foot. “No, no! This isn’t fair!”

Basil was bewildered, but tentatively he placed his hand on the other man’s shoulder, “Dorian… what’s wrong?”

The young man sighed, whipping furiously at his eyes, “I wanted to pick you up.”

“What? Why?”

“Because Henry could do it.”

Basil couldn’t help but chuckle, “Dorian, you don’t have to do everything Henry does. I’d honestly advise against aspiring to even attempt to be like him.”

“It’s not—” the young man sighed heavily. “I don’t want to be like Henry.”

“Then, why—?”

“Because I can’t just be me, can I?”

“What?”

“Basil,” Dorian looked down at the ground. “I’m only your friend because I’m your muse. Once I am old and no longer beautiful, you won’t want my companionship anymore—I have to do something more so you’ll want to stay as my friend as I get older.”

Basil looked aghast, “Dorian, you thought I’d stop being friends with you simply because you’ll… age?”

Dorian crossed his arm over himself protectively, “You spend half our time together giving me compliments. What other reason will you have to tolerate my presence?”

The painter sighed, “That’s… not untrue. But Dorian, I enjoy our time together because I simply enjoy being with you. There is no reason or any other justification necessary.”

“But we don’t do anything. I just sit and you paint. Those are wholly individual activities. When I’m with Henry, or anyone else for that matter, we laugh or talk or do something with each other. And when you’re with anyone else, you talk to them or laugh with them or anything else that friends are supposed to do!”

He frowned, holding himself tighter, “Why do I have to be the one you treat differently?”

Basil looked surprised, then guilty. He opened his mouth then closed it as he searched for the right words to say. Dorian wiped at his eyes again, wishing that he’d stop crying in front of Basil. Eventually, he sat at the trunk of the tree, watching the sky as he waited for Basil to say something.

Finally, Basil came to sit with him. With a saddened look in his eyes, he said, “Dorian, I’m sorry that I’ve treated you differently than how I’ve treated others—it was never my intention to make you feel as though I only valued you for your beauty.”

He paused, hesitating, then gently said, “I’ve only done so, because, well, truthfully, my friend, I’m not sure how to treat you.”

Dorian raised a brow.

“You act very young, Dorian. And forgive my blunt wording, but you’re… fragile.”

“I’m not!” Dorian paused and sighed. “I am.”

“And it’s not just that. You’re so… open. You wear your sleeve on your heart—I always know how you feel and what you want, but I never know how to respond to it.”

“I can give quite a lot at once,” Dorian admitted softly.

“And I have trouble giving anything at all,” Basil chuckled, defeatedly. “Sometimes, I want to be nurturing and give you someone to look up to and other times, I… Well, that isn’t important. I just don’t know how to treat you in a way that respects your human complexity.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be, I lov—I appreciate your genuinity. I can’t fathom ever being as confident as you.” Basil's eyes grew sad again. “Truthfully, it’s quite ironic that you think I’d end our friendship over something so fickle. Once you met Harry, I was sure our friendship had come to an end.”

“Why?” Dorian looked at Basil with wide eyes. 

“He seems to understand you better than I do. You seem to enjoy his company more.”

The young man scoffed, “Absolutely not, Basil. Harry is fascinating, but I do not enjoy his company enough to even attempt to do half as much as I’ve done to maintain my friendship with you. I’d prefer you to him on any day.”

Hallward was surprised, “I… I wasn’t aware of that.”

Basil leaned back against the tree and Dorian leaned onto his shoulder, gently grabbing one of Basil’s hands and absentmindedly thumbing over the back. Around them, birds chirped and the gentle wind rustled the leaves.

“If you want to do something other than sit for me, you are always welcome to ask,” Basil said, lifting his hand to run his fingers through Dorian’s golden locks. He felt the other man relax in his hold. “I can’t always promise that I’ll be available, but I am willing to make time for what you’d like. You’re my friend after all.”

“Thank you, Basil.” Dorian smiled mischievously. “But I’d still like to try picking you up.”

Basil laughed, “I don’t intend to stop you.”

Dorian guided Basil to stand on the stool then to carefully lower himself into Dorian’s arms in a bridal carry. Basil warped his arms around Dorian’s neck, then allowed his full weight to fall down on Dorian, fully expecting to be dropped.

Both were surprised to see that Dorian managed to hold Basil up. Dorian was gritting his teeth and overly tense, nail digging into Basil as he tried to carry him back into the house.

“You don’t have to do that!” Basil laughed. He felt light-headed from being so close to Dorian and fought the urge to bury his face in the other man’s neck. 

“I’m… going to!” Dorian grunted out. His face had gone red from the exertion and he took a shaky step forwards, jostling Basil. Basil cried out and clutched at the other man, bursting with laughter. Dorian would have laughed too, but he was more preoccupied with not dropping Basil.

Finally they reached the door. Dorian hissed out, “Basil, please open the door.”

Basil did so, but reached too far, causing Dorian to lose his balance and fall into the doorway with Basil in his arms. They fell into a heap on the floor, both laughing hysterically.

After they calmed down, Dorian breathlessly said, “Can we do more things like that?”

“Like carrying or falling?” Basil wheezed, looking at the young with adoration.

“Whichever one means I get to hear you laugh more.” Dorian grinned, feeling a flush on his face.

Basil was glad his face was already red. He forced out a chuckle and motioned deeper into the house, “Shall we grab something to drink?”

Dorian nodded and held Basil’s hand as they walked to the kitchen together.

[ch3ri-ch3ri-lady]

one thing i’m super curious for in s2 of iwtv is how they’re going to handle the character of madeleine.

in the novel and 1994 movie, claudia forced louis to make madeleine to become her new adoptive mother-this was (along with other reasons) because in order to have any semblance of a life, claudia quite literally NEEDED an adult vampire. At age 5 (book) or 11 (movie), you literally can’t DO anything independently-rent an apartment, live on your own, travel on your own, etc. in a way, madeleine was almost more of claudia’s glorified servant/chauffeur, as she resented fulfilling the role of daughter and longed for adulthood/independence more than anything else. madeleine was a necessity.

madeleine’s personality was also perfect for claudia’s needs. she was a woman driven mad with grief and obsessed with children, she would mindlessly do anything for claudia in a heartbeat and the idea of spending an eternity with an immortal, never-ageing and never-dying daughter was a dream come true for her. of COURSE she’d become her vampire companion (*cough* servant). plus, the added factor that she was a dollmaker and could tailor any clothes/objects to claudia’s child size was definitely an added bonus (like in her miniature adult room, she could dress up in the clothes and pretend at the lifestyle she was always deprived of behind the safety of closed doors. she also really is lestat’s mini me lol and has his eye/appreciation for the finer things and materialism, as opposed to sweaters-eaten-by-moths dad louis)

however, amc claudia is 14, an astronomically different age independence wise compared to 5 or even 11. it’s established in s1 that with some clothes and makeup she can somewhat successfully pass as older, and she was able to live relatively functionally on her own during her era away from louis and lestat. unlike her book/movie counterpart, she doesn’t REQUIRE a physically adult presence in her life. instead we see there is a much greater emphasis on her love life (ex: charlie) and desire for emotional companionship. also, she COMPLETELY resents her status as a “daughter”, switching to referring to louis and lestat as her brothers because she wants to remove herself from that dynamic completely. narratively, it would make no sense for her to make a new parent after working so hard to get rid of that dynamic with her old ones. this is why i (and many other fans i’ve seen) wonder if madeleine is going to be aged down and become her girlfriend/lover in s2 instead.

i think this would also draw some more sweet sweet parallels between her and lestat. both lestat’s first fledgeling/relationship (nicki) and claudia’s (madeleine, and yes, ik louis is technically her maker but he rlly wanted nothing to do w/ her the whole time and the only reason claudia wasn’t her maker was because she was physically incapable of doing so) impulsively believed their mental issues and anguish would be resolved with vampirism when in actuality they only worsened it and made them “mad” (i.e. nicki’s eventual suicide and madeleine’s growing mental instability and just generally freakish behaviour. i feel like it’s not too far of a stretch to say that if she wasn’t killed it wouldn’t have taken long for her to crash and burn too). the lestat/nicki and claudia/madeleine comparisons would be sooo much stronger if madeleine was her lover as well (espc her first serious AND queer relationship, just like nickistat).

claudia and lestat are soo similar and i feel like this wasn’t explored enough in s1. i hope that as the unreliable narration or suspected memory tampering “unravels”, we see more of their dynamic. like, claudia was lestat’s BABY. deep down he was proud of how claudia killed him-because he admitted that if he was in her situation, she did everything the exact same way he would have. AAGH.

(on a side note, i wonder how they’d change up this metaphorical gf!madeleine’s backstory to accommodate the changes. she would still need to be off putting, deeply disturbed/internally tormented, and probably Not That Good Of A Person To Choose To Make Into A Vampire™, but her original backstory of “dead daughter who she creepily makes hundreds of doll replicas of to cope” would have to switch up (i’m maybe banking on something related to wwii, considering the setting of a just-liberated 1940s paris)

anyways lmk ur thoughts