#Storm Bound au

[xcometstarx]

"Voltra, please." The boy said, spreading his fan and fanning himself with it. Thunderstorm thought he looked a lot like Kuputeri like that. Well. 𝘿𝙪𝙝. Boboiboy had split into 5: Thunderstorm, Quake, Blaze, Ice, and Solar. In an attempt to try to get Cyclone back. Which. Wasn't really going well. Thunderstorm flinched as the boy in front of him called him Voltra. Sure, he'd unlocked his third tier a little over a month ago, but he wasn't Voltra. He was Thunderstorm. "Your a weapon. That's all you'll ever be. A weapon for Gur'latan. For the ruler of it. So go back to your planet and do what your good at." The boy spat, snapping his fan shut. Quake, Blaze, Ice, and Solar exchanged flabbergasted looks from behind him. They weren't expecting 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵. Thunderstorm flinched, stepping back. That sounded so wrong. So 𝘴𝘰 wrong coming from the boy in front of him, who, normally, would 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 say 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 like that. And the worst part? Thunderstorm knew what he said was true.

Something for a little idea I had:

What if Cyclone and Thunderstorm swapped arcs?

[gyuuberryy]

prince charming's mismatch

pairing: prince!heeseung x princess!reader

synopsis: you and prince heeseung have been rivals for as long as you can remember. what began as childhood clashes has grown into a deep-seated animosity over the years. but when your sister runs away on her wedding day, you're forced to take her place and marry heeseung—the last person you ever wanted to call your husband.

now bound in an unwanted marriage, you’re faced with navigating the tension between your unresolved hatred and an unexpected attraction. as palace intrigue and looming threats surround you both, you must confront the truth of your feelings. will the bitterness between you tear you apart, or will it ignite something far more powerful?

genre: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, arranged marriage au

warnings: highly suggestive content!!! kissing, hee and reader are mean at first, insecurities, jealous!hee

note: i've been meaning to write this plot for an year now, im happy with how it turned out! e2l with hee is always soo fun to write. enjoyy

word count: 11.5k

royally yours masterlist | next: jay

if you liked it please reblog or comment to give me your feedback! <3

the first time you met prince heeseung, it was at a grand summer garden party hosted by your parents in the palace’s sprawling grounds. you were barely six years old, and he wasn’t much older, yet even then, the air between you crackled with something akin to competition. your governess had dressed you in your finest lace frock, with your hair tied in perfect ribbons, but none of that mattered. you were too busy building a grand sandcastle near the fountain, your little fingers carefully patting the turrets into shape.

that was when heeseung appeared, his shadow falling over your castle like a storm cloud. he crouched beside you without so much as a polite greeting, his royal title apparently excusing his lack of manners. his eyes, sharp for a child, surveyed your handiwork critically.

“that’s not right,” he declared, reaching out to touch one of your towers. “the walls need to be thicker, or it’ll fall.”

you frowned, already bristling at the unsolicited advice. “it’s my castle. i know what i’m doing.”

he smirked, a small, superior thing that made your blood simmer even at that tender age. without asking, he began "fixing" it, his hands too rough as he demolished what you had so carefully crafted.

“stop!” you cried, shoving him back with all the strength your little body could muster. heeseung stumbled, landing awkwardly on the grass, but instead of being chastened, he merely laughed.

“see?” he said, gesturing at the collapsed sandcastle. “i told you it would fall.”

tears of frustration welled in your eyes as you glared at him. “you ruined it! i didn’t ask for your help!”

heeseung stood, dusting off his fine clothes, a boyish smirk still plastered on his face. “you should thank me. i was doing you a favour.”

from that day forward, any time your families met, it was as if an unspoken rule had been established—whenever you were in the same room, you and heeseung would find something to argue about. it didn’t matter if it was who deserved the biggest slice of cake or who could recite their latin conjugations faster; the two of you were constantly at odds.

as the years passed, your mutual disdain only deepened. by the time you were ten, heeseung had already earned a reputation as the golden boy of his kingdom, a future king who excelled in everything he touched. your own accomplishments were always impressive—your parents had ensured you were well-versed in languages, history, and the fine arts—but whenever heeseung was around, it felt as though all your achievements paled in comparison.

“did you hear?” one of your tutors asked one morning as you sat in the drawing room, diligently practising your embroidery. “prince heeseung has been awarded top marks in his studies again. he’s to receive a commendation from the royal academy.”

you didn’t look up, but your needle paused for the briefest of moments. “how wonderful for him,” you muttered, the words heavy with sarcasm.

that evening, at another royal banquet, you couldn’t help but bring up your own accomplishments, eager for even a crumb of recognition.

“i’ve been practising my archery,” you said proudly to the gathered guests, though your eyes couldn’t help but flick toward heeseung, who lounged nearby, looking as regal and aloof as ever. “i managed to hit the bullseye several times this week.”

heeseung glanced up lazily, catching your eye with that familiar, insufferable smirk. “impressive,” he said in a bored tone, “though archery isn’t quite the same as, say, fencing. that requires real skill.”

your fists clenched under the table, your pride wounded by his casual dismissal. but this was the way it always went. no matter what you did, heeseung always found a way to make it seem insignificant, as though he were the sun and you were merely a star dimmed by his brilliance.

by the time you were both teenagers, the animosity between you had grown more complicated, though no less intense. you found yourselves at the same royal gatherings, balls, and court functions, and each time, it was as if the entire room held its breath, waiting to see what you and heeseung would clash over next.

at one particularly grand ball, you had been feeling proud of your debut. you wore a gown of the finest silk, and you’d received more than a few admiring glances from the eligible noblemen in attendance. you were certain this was your night to shine—until heeseung approached.

“you look well enough,” he said, his voice smooth but with an edge that set your teeth on edge. “though i hope you don’t trip during the quadrille like last time.”

your cheeks flushed, remembering all too well the minor misstep you’d taken at a previous ball. “i won’t,” you snapped, glaring at him. “and even if i did, it’s better than fencing yourself into a corner like you did at the tournament last month.”

his smile faltered for just a second, but that was enough to make you feel victorious.

yet, despite the constant barbs, there was something else simmering beneath the surface now—a tension you refused to name. you hated the way your heart raced whenever heeseung was near, the way his presence seemed to fill every corner of a room. and, though you’d never admit it, you hated even more that part of you missed the old days when your squabbles were simple, childish things.

it all changed the day your sister’s engagement to heeseung was announced. the prince who had been your lifelong nemesis was now to become your sister’s husband, the future king of your kingdom. it was a match made for political alliance, but it felt like a betrayal. you had expected more from him—well, not more kindness, but certainly more rebellion. yet, heeseung accepted the engagement with the same cool composure he did everything else.

for the first time in years, he stopped seeking you out, stopped picking those fights you had come to expect. he no longer bothered with sharp remarks or smug smiles. instead, he kept his distance, as though you were beneath his notice.

you told yourself it didn’t matter. after all, what did you care if heeseung ignored you now? he was going to be your brother-in-law, and that was enough reason to keep things civil. and yet, a strange, hollow feeling settled in your chest whenever you saw him and your sister together. he was colder now, more mature, but somehow more distant than ever.

little did you know, your rivalry with prince heeseung was far from over. if anything, it was only just beginning.

the night your world fell apart, it started with a simple knock on your chamber door. the palace had been abuzz with preparations—florists arranging garlands, tailors hemming gowns, and courtiers whispering about the grand union that would strengthen two kingdoms. you had spent the evening rehearsing your duties as maid of honour, biting back any remnants of bitterness that still clung to your feelings about the match. it didn’t matter that you had spent your entire life despising heeseung; your sister loved him, or at least, she was supposed to.

you were preparing to retire, brushing your hair by the dim glow of candlelight, when your sister slipped into the room, her face pale and eyes wide with fear. you’d never seen her look so frantic. your heart sank before she even said a word.

“i’m not going to marry him,” she whispered, wringing her hands in the folds of her silk nightgown. her voice trembled, but it was steady enough for you to know she wasn’t joking.

your heart lurched. “what are you talking about? the wedding is tomorrow!”

her wide eyes darted to the door as if she feared someone might overhear. she leaned in closer, gripping your wrist with trembling fingers. “i can’t marry heeseung,” she said urgently. “i don’t love him. i’m leaving tonight.”

the words hit you like a physical blow. “you’re what?”

“i’m eloping,” she said, her voice firmer now, as if saying it out loud gave her courage. “with lucien.”

lucien. you barely knew the man, a minor noble from another court, but he had charmed your sister quickly. he was handsome and witty, but far beneath her station. you stared at her, disbelief mixing with fury.

“lucien? are you mad? you can’t just abandon your duty for—”

“for love?” she interrupted, her voice rising in defiance. “yes, i can. i won’t be trapped in a loveless marriage with a man who cares nothing for me.”

you swallowed hard, your mind racing. heeseung, distant and cold as he had been with you, had shown no signs of affection for your sister either, but this was bigger than personal feelings. the marriage was political, a union meant to secure alliances, peace, and power. your sister fleeing would bring nothing but chaos.

“you’ll ruin everything,” you whispered, your voice thick with the weight of the consequences. “our families, the kingdoms—this is bigger than you.”

her eyes softened with a mix of guilt and determination. “i know. but i can’t live my life for duty, not like this.” she stood, gathering a small satchel you hadn’t noticed before, already packed and ready for her escape.

“you won’t stop me, will you?” she asked, her gaze pleading.

you wanted to scream, to shake her out of this madness, but your throat tightened. she was your sister. you loved her. and you knew, deep down, that nothing you said would change her mind.

“i should,” you said, your voice quiet, brittle. “but no. i won’t.”

your sister smiled, a fragile, relieved thing, before pulling you into a tight embrace. the hug felt final, like the end of something neither of you could come back from. when she finally let go, you stood frozen in the middle of her room as she slipped out the window and into the night, her footsteps fading into the shadows.

the palace remained blissfully unaware of the catastrophe until morning, when your mother’s scream shattered the early dawn peace.

the palace was in chaos the next morning. servants rushed through the halls, panic etched on their faces as whispers spread like wildfire—the bride had run away. you stayed in your chambers as long as possible, trying to gather your thoughts, your emotions, trying to prepare for the inevitable fallout.

when the summons came from your father, it felt like a death knell. the walk to the throne room felt endless, each step heavier than the last. the moment you stepped through the grand doors, you saw heeseung standing beside your parents. his face was a mask of icy calm, but his eyes…his eyes were darker than you’d ever seen them, cold and unforgiving.

he didn’t even glance at you as your father spoke.

“your sister has disgraced this family,” your father’s voice boomed, his tone laced with anger and disappointment. “but the marriage cannot be abandoned. the alliance with heeseung’s kingdom is too important.”

you stood still, your stomach churning as you braced for what was coming.

“therefore,” your father continued, his gaze hard as stone, “you will take her place.”

for a moment, the words didn’t register. you couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. you? marry heeseung? no, it wasn’t possible. you had spent your entire life in a silent war with him. the idea of marrying the man who had been your nemesis since childhood was unthinkable.

your mother’s voice, soft but firm, broke the silence. “the arrangements have already been made. the wedding will proceed as planned. you will become heeseung’s bride.”

“no.” the word slipped from your lips before you could stop it, your heart racing. “i can’t.”

your father’s eyes narrowed, and your mother’s expression hardened with disappointment. “you will do your duty,” your father said coldly. “this is not up for discussion.”

duty. it always came down to that. your entire life, you had been prepared for moments like this, but not this moment. not like this.

finally, you turned to heeseung, desperate for any sign of protest, for him to say something—anything—that would stop this madness. but he was silent. his face remained expressionless, as though none of this affected him. he looked at you as if you were just a piece of the puzzle, another part of the kingdom’s grand design.

“is that all i am to you?” you asked, your voice shaking. “just a replacement? a stand-in for the bride who ran away?”

for the first time, heeseung’s gaze met yours, and for a brief moment, something flickered in his eyes—something unreadable, buried deep beneath the coldness. but his words cut through you like ice.

“you’re a princess,” he said, his voice quiet but sharp. “your role is to serve your kingdom. that’s all that matters.”

a bitter laugh escaped your throat. “you’ve hated me for years, heeseung. and now you expect me to just—what? pretend none of that matters?”

his jaw tightened, but he didn’t respond. instead, he turned away, his indifference stinging more than any of the insults you had traded over the years.

your father spoke again, his tone final. “the marriage will happen. prepare yourself.”

the grand hall was suffused with the glow of flickering candles and soft sunlight filtering through stained glass windows. the scent of fresh roses—your sister’s favourite, not yours—hung heavily in the air, mocking the gravity of the moment. you stood at the entrance of the hall, your hands clenched so tightly around the bouquet that your knuckles were white. the murmurs of the courtiers echoed around you, a constant hum of speculation and judgement. no matter how well you carried yourself today, the whispers wouldn’t stop.

the switch of the bride was the scandal of the century, and you were at the centre of it.

ahead of you, heeseung stood tall, his face as unreadable as stone. the same detachment was in his eyes, his expression cool and composed as if this marriage was merely another political manoeuvre for him, another step toward the throne. he didn’t look at you with warmth, or even a hint of care. to him, you weren’t his wife—you were the replacement for the woman who had run away.

you walked down the aisle, every step heavier than the last, the reality of your situation crushing you. heeseung’s gaze was steady as you approached, but it wasn’t the gaze of a man looking at his bride. it was a look of cold calculation, a man who had resigned himself to duty.

when you finally reached him, your heart thudding loudly in your chest, you barely registered the priest's words. the vows—sacred, binding—felt hollow, like a cruel twist of fate. how could you stand here, repeating the words meant for your sister? they weren't meant for you. you were never supposed to be the bride.

heeseung took your hand, and the warmth of his skin was a sharp contrast to the chill that ran down your spine. his grip was firm, not gentle, but not cruel either—just dutiful. he spoke his vows with a steady voice, each word sounding rehearsed, as though they meant nothing to him beyond their formality.

and then it was your turn. you hesitated, the weight of the kingdom on your shoulders, your pulse quickening. your voice trembled slightly as you repeated the vows, feeling the eyes of everyone in the hall on you—expecting you to fulfil your role, to be the perfect princess. you could barely choke out the words, but somehow, you managed. and with every word, you felt the invisible chains of your new life tightening around you.

when the priest finally pronounced you husband and wife, heeseung’s lips brushed yours in the briefest of kisses—so cold and devoid of feeling that it felt more like a business transaction than the union of two people. the cheers of the court erupted around you, but in that moment, the applause sounded like the closing of a cage. you were trapped, bound to him, to this life.

as you turned to leave the altar, heeseung offered his arm, the tension between you palpable. his eyes flickered to yours for a brief moment, but there was no warmth there. just that cold, resigned look you had grown accustomed to. you were both playing your roles, just as you had been trained to do your whole lives.

but this wasn’t a game. this was your future, and it felt like a noose tightening around your neck.

the wedding feast had been a blur—a cacophony of forced smiles, hollow congratulations, and polite toasts that masked the underlying tension. you had barely spoken a word to heeseung throughout the entire affair. he hadn’t made any attempt to speak to you either, remaining as distant and composed as ever.

now, as you stood alone in the chambers that were to be yours and heeseung’s, the reality of your new life settled heavily on your chest. the palace chambers were far too quiet, the air thick with the tension that had been building between you and heeseung for years. as you stood in the centre of the room, staring at the enormous bed draped in rich fabrics, it felt like the walls were closing in. the room was elegantly decorated—ornate tapestries hung on the walls, and the grand four-poster bed was fit for a queen. but none of it mattered. the splendour felt like a mockery of the situation you found yourself in. tonight, this room was not a sanctuary but a gilded cage.

your breath caught in your throat as the door creaked open. heeseung entered, his presence commanding even in the subdued candlelight. the tension between you was palpable, stretching like a thin, fragile thread that could snap at any moment. his gaze flicked toward you briefly, but he didn’t speak, and the silence that followed was suffocating.

heeseung moved with practised grace, his movements calm and deliberate. he began undoing the buttons on his ceremonial jacket, the fine fabric sliding off his shoulders and landing in a careless heap on the chair by the vanity. you stood frozen, unsure of what to say, what to do. this wasn’t how you had imagined a wedding night would feel—though you had never dreamed this night would be with heeseung, of all people.

his back was to you now, his broad shoulders tense, though he did nothing to betray any emotion. you could feel the distance between you both, even though he was just across the room. heeseung had always been composed, guarded, but tonight, his coldness cut even deeper than usual.

he finally broke the silence, his voice low but steady. “it’s late. you should rest.” there was no affection in his tone, just the same sense of duty that had hung over the entire day. you weren’t his bride by choice, and he wasn’t your husband by desire.

you bit back a bitter laugh. rest? as if you could simply close your eyes and pretend this was normal. pretend that this marriage was something other than a trap. “is that it, then?” you asked, your voice sharper than intended. “we go to bed and pretend everything is fine?”

heeseung turned to face you, his expression as unreadable as ever. he didn’t answer right away, as if weighing his response carefully. “what do you want me to say?” his tone was measured, but there was an edge to it, a hint of frustration that matched your own.

“i don’t know,” you admitted, your voice trembling with the weight of your emotions. “this wasn’t supposed to happen. i wasn’t supposed to marry you.”

something flickered in heeseung’s eyes, though it disappeared as quickly as it came. he regarded you for a moment, his gaze unreadable, before he spoke again. “do you think i wanted this?” his words were quiet but laced with a bitterness that surprised you. “i didn’t ask for this any more than you did.”

you swallowed, feeling a lump rise in your throat. you hadn’t expected this admission from him, hadn’t expected him to show any vulnerability. “then what are we supposed to do?” your voice was softer now, the anger ebbing away, replaced by uncertainty. “how are we supposed to live like this?”

heeseung sighed, running a hand through his hair, a rare moment of frustration breaking through his calm facade. “we do what’s expected of us,” he said, though there was a heaviness to his words, as if he was trying to convince himself as much as you. “we fulfill our duties. that’s all we can do.”

“duties.” the word tasted bitter on your tongue. it had always come down to that, hadn’t it? duty to the crown, to the kingdom, to your family. and now, duty to heeseung.

the silence stretched on, thick and uncomfortable. heeseung turned away, moving toward the window where the heavy drapes framed the view of the darkened palace gardens. his silhouette was stark against the faint glow of moonlight, his posture stiff, almost defensive.

after a long moment, he spoke again, his voice softer this time. “i’ll sleep over there.” he gestured to the chaise near the window, a fine piece of furniture that now seemed woefully out of place in this awkward, tension-filled room. “you can have the bed.”

you blinked, surprised by his offer. it was the last thing you expected from him, but it was a relief nonetheless. “you don’t have to—”

“i’m not doing this for you,” he interrupted, his voice firm, but not unkind. “i just don’t want to make this any more difficult than it already is.”

with that, he moved toward the chaise, gathering a pillow and blanket from the wardrobe. his actions were efficient, almost mechanical, as if he had already resigned himself to this fate. he didn’t look at you as he arranged the blanket over the chaise.

you stood there, feeling a strange mix of emotions—relief, awkwardness, and something else, something heavier that you couldn’t quite place. this was your wedding night, but it was nothing like you had ever imagined. there was no closeness, no warmth—just two people bound together by obligation and circumstance.

finally, you moved toward the bed, the thick carpets muffling your steps. the soft fabric of your gown felt heavy as you climbed beneath the covers, though they provided no comfort. you lay there, staring up at the intricate canopy above, your mind racing. this bed, this room—none of it felt like yours.

heeseung settled on the chaise, his back to you, the distance between you both feeling vast despite the small room. the silence was oppressive, each second dragging on longer than the last. you wondered if he was as uneasy as you were, or if he had already steeled himself to this new reality.

for a long while, neither of you spoke, the only sound in the room the faint rustling of fabric as you shifted beneath the covers. the weight of the day, of the vows, of your new title, pressed down on you, making it hard to breathe.

finally, you couldn’t stand the silence any longer. “heeseung,” you whispered, unsure if you even wanted him to respond.

he didn’t turn, but his voice was low and steady when he answered. “what?”

you hesitated, searching for the right words. “do you think... do you think this will ever get easier?”

there was a long pause before he responded, his voice quiet, almost resigned. “i don’t know.”

and with that, the conversation ended. heeseung remained silent, his back still turned to you, and you knew there was nothing more to say. you turned onto your side, pulling the blankets tighter around you, though they offered little warmth. the room felt too big, too empty, despite his presence.

eventually, exhaustion crept in, dulling the sharp edges of your thoughts. but even as sleep began to claim you, a cold, sinking feeling settled in your chest. this was your life now—bound to a man you barely knew, a man who had been your enemy for years, and yet, somehow, your husband.

and as you drifted off into uneasy sleep, the last thought that crossed your mind was how strange it felt to be lying just feet away from heeseung, yet feeling as though he was a world away.

the morning after the wedding dawned cold and gray, mirroring the lingering tension between you and heeseung. you woke up in the large, empty bed, the space next to you untouched, a stark reminder of the distance that had been established on your wedding night. the air in the room felt thick, suffocating, as if the very walls were pressing in on you, reminding you of your new reality.

as you sat up, the unfamiliarity of your surroundings only worsened the tightness in your chest. this was your new life. not just this bed, but this room, this palace—heeseung’s palace—and you would share it with a man who barely spoke to you, who looked at you with that same cold distance he had always shown.

you dressed quickly, your movements mechanical, trying not to think too much. the maids moved around you silently, well-trained and efficient, but you could feel their eyes on you. it was impossible to escape the fact that everyone knew. the entire kingdom knew the story—the princess who had run away, and her sister forced to take her place. the whispers would never stop.

when you finally made your way downstairs to the grand dining room, heeseung was already seated at the long table, a plate of food in front of him. he didn’t look up when you entered, simply continued cutting into his meal with precise, practised movements. you hesitated for a moment, then took your seat across from him.

the silence was unbearable.

you picked at your food, barely tasting it, glancing at heeseung from time to time. his expression was as unreadable as ever, his attention focused on the papers beside his plate—likely matters of the kingdom that required his attention. he was already immersed in his duties, the weight of his impending kingship pressing down on him just as heavily as your new role as his wife weighed on you.

finally, you couldn’t stand it any longer. “do you plan to ignore me for the rest of our lives?” you asked, your voice sharper than you intended.

heeseung didn’t look up immediately, taking his time to finish his bite and set down his utensils with deliberate care. when he finally met your gaze, his expression was cool, detached. “i’m not ignoring you.”

you scoffed, unable to hide your frustration. “you’ve barely spoken to me since the wedding.”

he raised an eyebrow, his tone as calm as ever. “what would you like me to say?”

the question took you off guard. you hadn’t expected him to be so blunt. you opened your mouth, then closed it again, unsure of how to respond. what did you want him to say? that he regretted everything as much as you did? that he hated this arrangement, too? or perhaps you wanted him to acknowledge the years of bitterness between you, to admit that this marriage was a farce.

instead, you said, “we’re married now, heeseung. we have to live together. we can’t keep pretending the other doesn’t exist.”

his jaw tightened ever so slightly, but his voice remained calm. “i’m aware of that.”

you waited for him to say more, but he didn’t. the silence stretched on once again, thicker than before, suffocating in its awkwardness. you pushed your plate away, no longer interested in eating. “fine,” you muttered under your breath, standing abruptly. “i suppose i’ll just get used to it, then.”

you turned to leave, but his voice stopped you. “you don’t have to like this any more than i do, but we have responsibilities now.”

you paused, your back to him, your hands clenched at your sides. “responsibilities,” you repeated, your voice barely above a whisper. it seemed like that was all your life had ever been reduced to—duty, obligation, and responsibilities.

without another word, you left the dining room, the heavy doors closing behind you with a soft thud. you could feel the weight of the situation bearing down on you even more as you walked through the halls of the palace, each step echoing in the vast emptiness. you weren’t just trapped in this marriage—you were trapped in this life.

days passed, and though you and heeseung were forced to share the same space, your interactions remained minimal, stilted. in the mornings, you would find him already at the breakfast table, poring over documents and barely acknowledging your presence. he would spend his days attending council meetings and handling matters of state, leaving you to navigate the palace on your own, feeling more like a guest in your own home than its mistress.

at night, he would retire to the chambers late, often when you were already lying in bed, pretending to sleep. he would quietly take his place on the chaise near the window, far enough away to avoid any awkwardness, but close enough that his presence was a constant reminder of the divide between you.

it was during these nights that the loneliness settled in most heavily. the silence of the room, broken only by the occasional rustling of fabric or the soft crackle of the fireplace, was suffocating. you had grown accustomed to sleeping alone, but now, knowing heeseung was just a few feet away, the distance between you felt almost unbearable. there was an unspoken understanding that neither of you wanted to bridge the gap.

one evening, after yet another day of awkward meals and tense silences, you found yourself in the library, one of the few places in the palace where you felt at peace. the vast room was filled with shelves upon shelves of books, their spines worn and familiar. you had always loved to read, finding solace in the stories and histories of others when your own life felt too overwhelming.

you were seated by the window, the late afternoon sun casting a soft glow over the pages of your book, when the door creaked open. you looked up, surprised to see heeseung standing in the doorway. he paused for a moment, as if uncertain whether to enter or leave, his eyes scanning the room before they settled on you.

“may i join you?” he asked, his voice unusually soft.

you blinked, caught off guard by his request. this was the first time he had sought you out since the wedding, and the suddenness of it left you momentarily speechless. you nodded, unsure of what else to do. “of course.”

heeseung crossed the room, moving with his usual grace, and took a seat in the armchair opposite you. for a moment, neither of you spoke, the quiet of the library enveloping you both. he seemed content to sit in silence, his gaze wandering to the bookshelves that lined the walls.

finally, after what felt like an eternity, he spoke. “this is... one of the quieter rooms.”

you raised an eyebrow, a small, incredulous smile tugging at the corner of your lips. “it’s a library, heeseung. of course it’s quiet.”

to your surprise, he chuckled softly, though it was a dry, humourless sound. “fair enough.”

silence fell again, but this time it wasn’t as suffocating. there was something almost... peaceful about it, the weight of your shared presence not as unbearable as it had been before. you watched him out of the corner of your eye, noticing how tired he looked. the weight of his responsibilities was evident in the slight furrow of his brow, the way his shoulders sagged ever so slightly.

after a while, you set your book down on your lap, deciding to break the silence. “it must be difficult,” you said quietly. “taking on so much.”

heeseung didn’t answer right away, his gaze still focused on the shelves, but eventually, he nodded. “it is.”

you hesitated for a moment, then spoke again, softer this time. “you don’t have to carry it all alone, you know.”

he turned to look at you then, his expression unreadable, but there was something in his eyes—something softer than the cold indifference you had grown accustomed to.

“and what would you suggest?” he asked, his voice quiet but not unkind.

“i don’t know,” you admitted. “but we’re in this together, whether we like it or not.”

heeseung’s gaze lingered on you for a moment longer, and then he nodded, a small, almost imperceptible movement. it wasn’t much, but it was the first step—however small—toward something more than just forced cohabitation.

the shift in your relationship came faster than you expected. it started with a challenge—a reckless, unspoken dare that neither of you could resist.

it had been a clear, crisp day, the first after several weeks of rain. you were restless, tired of the palace walls and the constant burden of your new role. you had gone to the stables, hoping to take one of the horses out for a ride, needing to feel the wind in your hair and the ground beneath you. but when you arrived, heeseung was already there, adjusting the reins of his own horse.

you paused in the doorway, surprised to see him. “you ride?”

he glanced up, one eyebrow raised. “you sound surprised.”

“i am,” you admitted. “i’ve never seen you ride before.”

he chuckled softly, his eyes glinting with amusement. “there’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

the challenge in his voice was unmistakable, and you couldn’t resist rising to it. “care to prove it?” you asked, moving toward your own horse.

heeseung’s smirk widened. “what do you have in mind?”

you mounted your horse swiftly, the thrill of the challenge already coursing through your veins. “a race.”

heeseung raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “you think you can beat me?”

“i know i can,” you shot back, turning your horse toward the open field beyond the stables.

without another word, you spurred your horse into motion, not waiting for his response. behind you, you heard heeseung’s laughter, low and rich, before the sound of hooves thundering against the ground told you he had accepted the challenge.

you raced through the fields, the wind whipping through your hair, the thrill of the chase making your heart race. heeseung was right behind you, and you could feel the tension building, the competitive edge between you sparking like fire. it was like being children again, challenging each other at every turn, pushing each other to the limit.

but this time, it was different. the stakes were higher, the tension thicker, and the way heeseung looked at you when he finally caught up to you sent a shiver down your spine.

when he finally pulled his horse beside yours, you were both breathless, your faces flushed with adrenaline. you glanced over at him, and the look in his eyes—intense, dark, heated—made your pulse quicken.

“not bad,” he said, his voice low, rough around the edges.

you smirked, trying to ignore the way your heart was pounding. “you almost kept up.”

heeseung leaned in just slightly, his gaze locking with yours. “almost?” he murmured, his voice sending a jolt through you.

you swallowed hard, your throat suddenly dry. the space between you was too close, the air charged with something you weren’t quite ready to name. his eyes lingered on your lips for just a moment too long, and you could feel the heat of his presence, the tension that had always existed between you now manifesting in a way that was far more dangerous.

before either of you could say anything, heeseung pulled back, his smirk returning as if nothing had happened. “we’ll call it a draw,” he said, though there was a teasing edge to his voice.

you let out a breath you hadn’t realised you were holding, shaking your head with a laugh. “you wish.”

but as you rode back to the palace, the tension between you remained, simmering beneath the surface. it was no longer the resentment of old enemies, but something far more complex, far more dangerous. and for the first time, you found yourself wondering what would happen if that tension ever boiled over.

later that night, the air was thick with the remnants of the day’s energy. you couldn’t sleep, your mind still racing from the ride and the way heeseung had looked at you—how close he had come, how your heart had nearly betrayed you in that moment of suspended anticipation.

you wandered the halls of the palace aimlessly, your footsteps soft against the marble floors. the palace at night was a different place, quiet and still, the shadows long and heavy. it felt like a place where secrets lingered in every corner, where the walls whispered of things that could never be said aloud.

as you passed by the study, you noticed the faint glow of light beneath the door. curiosity piqued, you pushed the door open just enough to peek inside. heeseung was there, seated at the desk, bathed in the warm glow of candlelight. he was reading, his brow furrowed in concentration, his lips slightly parted as he focused on the page in front of him.

you hesitated, but before you could turn away, he looked up, catching sight of you. for a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence between you heavy with unspoken words. then, without breaking eye contact, heeseung set the book aside.

“couldn’t sleep?” he asked, his voice low, intimate in the quiet of the room.

you shook your head, stepping into the room. “no. you?”

heeseung’s gaze flicked over you, his eyes lingering on you in a way that made your skin heat under his scrutiny. “i’ve been thinking,” he said, his tone soft but laced with that same dangerous tension that had been building all day.

“about what?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper as you moved closer, drawn to him in a way you couldn’t quite explain.

heeseung’s eyes met yours, and for a moment, the world seemed to stop. “about you,” he said quietly. “about us.”

the weight of his words settled in the space between you, thick and intoxicating. about you. about us. it echoed in your mind, stirring something deep within you that you had tried to ignore for far too long. you weren’t sure if it was the late hour, the dim candlelight, or the fact that you had been dancing around each other for weeks now, but something inside you snapped.

your breath hitched as you looked at him, his eyes dark and full of something you couldn’t quite name. but it was there—undeniable, pulsing in the space between you. and now that it had been spoken into existence, you couldn’t unsee it.

“what about us?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. it wasn’t just curiosity anymore. it was a challenge.

heeseung’s gaze flicked to your lips, and the tension in the room intensified, coiling tighter and tighter until it felt like the air itself might shatter from the pressure. he stood slowly, his movements deliberate, and took a step toward you, closing the already-small distance between you.

“there’s always been something between us,” he said, his voice low, rough. his eyes never left yours, burning with intensity. “even when we hated each other.”

your heart was pounding now, so loud you were sure he could hear it. you wanted to deny it, to tell him that he was wrong, that it had always been pure hatred. but that would’ve been a lie. you knew it as well as he did—whatever had always been there between you, it had never been simple.

“and what is it now?” you asked, forcing yourself to meet his gaze even though every instinct told you to look away. to run.

heeseung took another step closer, his hand reaching up slowly, as though giving you the chance to pull away. but you didn’t. you couldn’t. his fingers brushed against your cheek, the touch so light it sent a shiver down your spine. his hand lingered there, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw.

“maybe we’ve been fighting the wrong battle,” he murmured, his voice softer now, almost tender. the warmth of his breath ghosted over your skin, and you felt your pulse quicken.

your throat tightened. every word he said felt like a dangerous line, one that you were teetering on the edge of crossing. the tension between you had always been a fire—burning too hot, too fast. and now, it felt like it was about to consume you both.

heeseung’s thumb brushed over your bottom lip, and your breath caught in your throat. his touch was tentative, as though he wasn’t quite sure if this was real or if you would pull away at any moment.

but you didn’t.

instead, you took a step closer, closing the gap completely. the air between you was charged, thick with unspoken desire and the weight of all the years you had spent fighting against each other. your body was betraying you, leaning into him, drawn by a force you had denied for too long.

heeseung’s eyes darkened as he leaned in, his lips barely an inch from yours, the heat between you almost unbearable now. you could feel the tension in every muscle, the way his hand trembled slightly as it cupped your cheek, the way your own body was responding without your permission.

then, in a breathless moment that felt like it stretched on forever, he closed the distance.

his lips pressed against yours—soft at first, testing, as though he wasn’t sure you would let him. but the moment your lips met his, something ignited between you. the kiss deepened, filled with all the pent-up frustration and longing that had been building for so long. it was a clash of emotions—anger, desire, need—all colliding in that single moment.

you responded instantly, your hands reaching up to tangle in his hair, pulling him closer, needing more. the kiss was rough, almost desperate, as though you were both trying to make up for years of missed chances in that single moment.

his hands slid down to your waist, pulling you flush against him, and you gasped against his lips at the feeling of his body pressed so close to yours. the intensity of it was overwhelming, but you didn’t want it to stop. you didn’t want to think. you just wanted to feel.

but then, as quickly as it started, heeseung pulled back, his breathing ragged, his forehead resting against yours. his hands still gripped your waist, holding you in place as though he couldn’t quite let go yet.

“this isn’t... what i expected,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. his breath was warm against your skin, and his eyes searched yours, as though he was looking for an answer in your gaze.

you swallowed hard, trying to steady your breathing, trying to make sense of what had just happened. “what did you expect?” you asked softly, your fingers still tangled in his hair.

heeseung’s grip on your waist tightened for a moment, his eyes darkening once again. “i didn’t expect you to feel this way.” his voice was low, almost a growl, filled with the same intensity that had been building between you all night.

you opened your mouth to respond, but the words wouldn’t come. you had no idea what to say, no idea how to explain the maelstrom of emotions swirling inside you. all you knew was that everything had changed in that kiss.

“i don’t know what i feel,” you admitted quietly, your voice barely audible in the heavy silence of the room.

heeseung’s lips twitched into a small, almost sad smile. “neither do i.” he stepped back, finally breaking the physical contact between you, and you immediately missed the warmth of his body against yours.

“but whatever this is... it’s dangerous,” he continued, his eyes locked on yours, as though warning you. “we’ve always been enemies. we don’t know how to be anything else.”

you felt a lump form in your throat at his words, because deep down, you knew he was right. but that didn’t stop the ache in your chest, the desire for something more—for the possibility of what could be.

“i don’t want to be your enemy anymore,” you said softly, the confession surprising even you.

heeseung’s eyes widened slightly at your words, his expression unreadable. for a moment, you thought he might say something—might admit that he didn’t want to be your enemy either. but then, he shook his head, the walls between you coming back up, brick by brick.

“this doesn’t change anything,” he said quietly, but the look in his eyes said otherwise.

and with that, he turned and left the room, leaving you standing there in the soft glow of candlelight, your heart pounding and your mind reeling from the kiss that had shifted the entire balance between you.

as the door closed softly behind him, you exhaled a shaky breath, your fingers brushing your lips where his had been moments before.

everything had changed.

the royal court was buzzing with tension, and for once, the tension wasn’t between you and heeseung. the kingdom was on edge, not from war or rebellion, but from something far more insidious—political manoeuvring. rival noble houses were plotting against heeseung’s rule, questioning his right to ascend to the throne, especially after the sudden marriage to you. the whispers had grown louder over the past few weeks, the courtiers’ gazes sharper, waiting for the first misstep.

you had known court life would be full of power plays and alliances, but this was different. it was personal. every snide comment, every hushed conversation behind closed doors, felt like an attack on your marriage, on your family’s legacy. and worst of all, it felt like an attack on you.

one afternoon, as you made your way through the palace corridors, you overheard a group of nobles—close to your family—voicing their displeasure over your sudden marriage to heeseung. it was the same old song—how your sister should have been the bride, how you were never meant for this role, how heeseung marrying you was a strategic disaster.

you felt your blood run cold, but you kept walking, your head held high. you had grown used to these remarks, but today, they stung deeper. not because they questioned your worth, but because they reflected the deep-seated insecurity you had always carried.

that night, you found yourself alone in the study, staring out the window at the darkening sky. the weight of the court’s judgement, the impossible standards, the constant comparisons to your sister—they were suffocating. and then there was heeseung, whose coldness had thawed just enough to show you glimpses of something deeper, something real. but he was still heeseung—your husband, your childhood rival, and now the man who held your future in his hands.

the door creaked open behind you, and you didn’t need to turn to know it was him. you had grown attuned to his presence, the way the air shifted whenever he entered a room.

“what’s wrong?” his voice was quieter than usual, but still carrying that edge of command. he always knew when something was off, as if he could sense the turmoil swirling inside you.

you didn’t answer immediately, your gaze fixed on the stars outside. “they’re saying we’re not suited for each other,” you murmured, finally turning to face him. “that i’m not fit to be queen. that you made a mistake.”

heeseung’s jaw clenched, a muscle ticking in his cheek. he stepped closer, his eyes narrowing in that familiar way, but this time, it wasn’t directed at you.

“let them talk,” he said flatly. “they’re just waiting for us to fail.”

“and what if they’re right?” the words slipped out before you could stop them, the fear and doubt bubbling to the surface. “i was never meant to marry you. this isn’t the life i was prepared for.”

heeseung stared at you for a moment, his expression unreadable. then, to your surprise, he closed the distance between you, his hands gripping your shoulders firmly, forcing you to meet his gaze.

“i didn’t choose you because you were an easy choice,” he said, his voice low but intense. “i chose you because you’re stronger than you realise.”

you blinked, taken aback by the conviction in his words. heeseung wasn’t one to offer praise lightly, and hearing it now, in this moment, felt more intimate than anything he had ever said to you before.

“there are plenty of people who want to see us fail,” he continued, his grip tightening slightly. “but they don’t matter. what matters is that we don’t give them the satisfaction. we fight together.”

the intensity in his eyes sent a shiver down your spine, and for the first time, you saw beyond the cold exterior he had always shown you. there was something deeper there, something raw and unspoken. a partnership.

but the closeness also brought something else—a heat that had always been there between you, simmering beneath the surface. his hands lingered on your shoulders, his thumbs brushing the bare skin just above your collarbone, and suddenly the room felt smaller, the air thicker.

“you think i’m strong?” you asked, your voice quieter now, tinged with something more vulnerable. something real.

heeseung’s gaze flicked down to your lips, just for a moment, before returning to your eyes. his voice was rough when he spoke, low and filled with an unspoken promise. “i’ve always known.”

the charged air between you was impossible to ignore now. his fingers slid from your shoulders to your arms, the touch sending a jolt of warmth through you. it wasn’t just the weight of responsibility pressing down on you—it was him, his closeness, the undeniable pull you had both been dancing around for weeks.

you could feel the tension in every inch of your body, your heart racing as heeseung’s hands rested on your waist, pulling you closer, but still leaving just enough space for doubt. he hesitated, as if waiting for you to push him away, to remind him of the enmity that had defined your relationship for so long.

but you didn’t. instead, you leaned into him, your hands tentatively reaching up to rest on his chest. the fabric of his shirt was soft under your fingers, but beneath it, you could feel the steady beat of his heart, as rapid as your own.

“maybe i’ve been wrong about you,” you whispered, your breath hitching as the tension between you reached a breaking point.

heeseung’s eyes darkened at your words, his lips hovering just inches from yours. “maybe you have,” he murmured, his voice low and dangerous. but there was something softer there too, something almost tender.

before you could talk yourself out of it, you closed the distance between you and kissed him.

the kiss was like nothing you had ever experienced—fierce, desperate, and full of the years of unresolved tension between you. it was as if all the walls you had built around yourselves were crumbling in an instant, leaving nothing but the raw, undeniable attraction that had always simmered beneath the surface.

heeseung responded instantly, his hands tightening on your waist, pulling you closer as the kiss deepened. his lips moved against yours with a hunger that matched your own, and you could feel the heat radiating off him, his body pressing against yours as if he couldn’t bear to let you go.

it was overwhelming, the intensity of the moment, the way your bodies seemed to fit perfectly together, the way every touch sent a shockwave of desire coursing through you. you had spent so long fighting him, fighting this, and now, as his hands slid up your back, holding you close, you wondered why you had ever resisted.

when you finally pulled back, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting against each other. heeseung’s grip on your waist didn’t loosen, and you could feel the rapid rise and fall of his chest, his heartbeat as wild as your own.

“we can’t keep pretending,” you whispered, your voice shaky, your lips still tingling from the kiss.

heeseung’s eyes met yours, the vulnerability and uncertainty in his gaze mirroring your own. “no, we can’t,” he agreed, his voice rough with emotion.

for a moment, the world hung in the balance. you had crossed a line, and there was no going back. everything between you had shifted, and the question now wasn’t whether you would move forward—it was how.

heeseung’s thumb brushed gently against your cheek, his touch so tender it nearly broke you. “we’re in this together,” he said softly, the weight of his words heavy with meaning.

this time, there was no need to say anything more. you both understood what had changed between you, even if neither of you was ready to fully admit it. and though the path ahead was uncertain, you knew one thing for sure: you weren’t facing it alone anymore.

weeks passed, and with each passing day, things between you and heeseung slowly shifted. the cold, sharp walls that had once kept you apart were crumbling, revealing a warmth and understanding that neither of you had anticipated. where there had once been biting words and icy glares, there was now laughter, quiet conversations, and small gestures of affection.

the palace felt different. it was lighter now, with the growing sense of partnership between you and heeseung. your bickering had been replaced with genuine care, and though the wounds of the past hadn't fully healed, you were both learning to forgive. but it wasn’t just the emotional connection that was shifting—there was something deeper brewing beneath the surface. unspoken feelings, simmering tension.

it wasn’t until a grand banquet in honour of a visiting prince from a neighbouring kingdom that these feelings came to a head. you stood at the centre of the ballroom, dressed in a gown that glimmered under the candlelight. it hugged your figure perfectly, catching the attention of more than just heeseung. the prince—prince seojun—had been particularly charming throughout the evening, his eyes lingering on you a little too long, his compliments a little too bold.

“you are by far the most captivating presence in this room, your highness,” seojun murmured, his voice low as he leaned in slightly, a smirk playing on his lips. “if i had known such beauty awaited me here, i would have visited sooner.”

you laughed politely, glancing over your shoulder, searching for heeseung in the crowd. he was across the room, deep in conversation with some nobles, but even from the distance, you could feel his gaze on you, sharp and intense.

seojun continued, his hand brushing lightly against your arm as he leaned closer. “perhaps we could steal a moment away from the crowd? i would love to know more about the woman behind such an enchanting smile.”

before you could respond, a sudden shift in the air caught your attention. heeseung appeared at your side, his posture tense, his expression a mix of barely contained irritation and something else—something more possessive.

“princess,” heeseung’s voice was smooth, but there was a dangerous edge to it. his hand slid around your waist, pulling you firmly against his side. the claim was unmistakable. “i believe your dance card is full for the evening.”

seojun’s smirk faltered slightly as he glanced between the two of you, sensing the tension. heeseung’s eyes never left the prince, cold and unyielding.

“of course,” seojun replied, raising his hands in mock surrender. “i wouldn’t dream of overstepping. after all,” his gaze flickered to you, then back to heeseung, “she’s your wife.”

the words hung in the air for a moment, charged with unspoken meaning. seojun bowed slightly, a smirk still playing on his lips, before taking his leave. but even as he walked away, you could feel the lingering weight of his gaze.

you turned to heeseung, about to make a light-hearted remark about the interaction, but the look on his face stopped you. his eyes were dark, his jaw clenched, and his grip on your waist was firm—almost possessive.

“did he touch you?” heeseung asked, his voice low and tight.

you raised an eyebrow, surprised by his tone. “barely,” you replied, trying to play it off with a soft laugh. “why? are you jealous?”

his eyes flickered with something dangerous as he leaned down, his breath warm against your ear. “you’re my wife. i don’t like other men thinking they can take what’s mine.”

your heart skipped a beat at his words. the possessiveness in his tone, the way his body pressed protectively against yours—it was unlike anything you had ever experienced with heeseung. you had always seen him as cold, distant, but this... this was different. there was fire in his eyes, and you could feel it burning between you, a tension that neither of you had acknowledged until now.

“and what if i enjoy a little attention now and then?” you teased, testing the boundaries, wanting to see how far he would go.

heeseung’s eyes darkened even more, and in one swift motion, he pulled you even closer, his hand cupping the back of your neck as he leaned in, his lips barely grazing the shell of your ear. “i don’t care how many men look at you, but remember this—” his voice dropped, sending shivers down your spine, “you belong to me and i belong to you.”

a thrill ran through you at his words, and for a moment, you were speechless, your mind spinning from the intensity of his claim. the ballroom, the crowd, even prince seojun—all of it faded away as heeseung’s gaze held you captive. you could feel the heat of his body against yours, the possessiveness in his touch, and for the first time, you realised that this wasn’t just some marriage of convenience anymore.

heeseung cared—more than he was willing to admit.

your breath hitched as you looked up at him, your eyes searching his, trying to read the emotions flickering behind them. “and what about you, heeseung?” you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “do you want me to be yours?”

his eyes softened for just a moment, a flicker of vulnerability crossing his features before he leaned in, his lips brushing lightly against your temple. “you already are,” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. “and i’m not letting you forget it.”

the banquet had left the air between you and heeseung charged with an intensity that neither of you could ignore. his possessiveness, the fierce look in his eyes when he claimed you as his wife in front of prince seojun, had stirred something inside you—something that had been simmering for far too long.

as the last of the guests departed and the palace quieted down for the night, the tension remained, lingering like an unspoken promise. heeseung walked beside you in silence as you both made your way through the dimly lit corridors toward your chambers. though no words passed between you, the air was thick with anticipation, the unspoken pull between you stronger than ever.

when you reached your shared chambers, heeseung opened the door for you, his gaze never leaving you as you stepped inside. you could feel his eyes on you, burning with a need that matched your own. the soft glow of the candlelight cast long shadows across the room, but all you could focus on was the man standing behind you, his presence overwhelming.

you moved toward the vanity, fingers trembling slightly as you began to remove your jewellery. you were acutely aware of heeseung standing behind you, the weight of his gaze almost tangible as he watched your every movement. his silence spoke volumes, filled with desire and unspoken emotions that neither of you had fully confronted until now.

the tension was unbearable. finally, unable to stand the silence any longer, you glanced at him through the reflection in the mirror, your voice soft but steady. “you’ve been quiet,” you murmured, meeting his intense gaze. “what’s on your mind?”

he didn’t answer immediately. instead, he stepped closer, his hand reaching out to brush against the bare skin of your shoulder. the touch was light, tentative, but it sent a shiver down your spine. his fingers lingered, tracing the delicate curve of your shoulder before he leaned in, his breath warm against your neck.

“i didn’t like how he looked at you,” heeseung finally admitted, his voice low and rough with suppressed emotion. his eyes met yours in the mirror, dark with jealousy and something more—something deeper. “or the way he made you laugh.”

your heart raced at the possessiveness in his tone. you turned to face him, taking in the tension in his jaw, the way his eyes blazed with something primal. his emotions were raw, laid bare before you in a way that heeseung had never allowed himself to show before.

“it was harmless,” you replied, stepping closer to him, your voice softening. “but i can’t say i minded the way you stepped in.”

his gaze darkened, his hand moving to your waist, pulling you flush against him. you could feel the heat of his body seeping into yours, the hard lines of his frame pressing against your softness. his eyes locked onto yours, filled with unspoken desire, but also with something more—something tender.

“i’m not the kind of man who likes to share,” he said, his voice a low growl as he leaned in, his lips hovering just above yours. “especially not when it comes to you.”

your breath hitched at his words, your pulse quickening as the fire between you flared even hotter. you couldn’t deny the thrill that ran through you at his possessive tone, the way his hands gripped you as though he couldn’t bear to let you go.

“and what are you going to do about it?” you whispered, your voice daring, testing the boundaries as your lips brushed his, teasingly close but not quite touching.

heeseung’s response was immediate. his lips crashed against yours, fierce and hungry, as if he had been holding back for far too long. the kiss was searing, filled with all the emotions you had both kept hidden. his hands roamed over your body, possessive yet tender, as though he was staking his claim but also worshipping every inch of you.

you responded just as fiercely, your hands tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer, needing to feel every part of him against you. the tension between you, the unspoken desire, it all poured out in that kiss, in the way his body pressed against yours with a need that matched your own.

heeseung’s hands slid down to your thighs, lifting you effortlessly as he carried you toward the bed. the air between you was electric, charged with desire and the intensity of emotions that neither of you had allowed to surface until now. he laid you down gently, his eyes never leaving yours, his gaze dark and filled with a hunger that made your heart race.

for a moment, he paused, his fingers brushing over your cheek with a tenderness that contrasted sharply with the intensity of what had just passed between you. his eyes softened, and for the first time, you saw the vulnerability behind them—the raw emotion that he had been hiding behind his cold exterior for so long.

“are you sure?” he asked, his voice husky but laced with care, as if he was giving you one last chance to pull away, to stop this before it went too far.

you gazed up at him, your heart swelling with the overwhelming emotions coursing through you. heeseung, the man you had once considered your rival, your enemy, was now looking at you with a tenderness that took your breath away. you reached up, cupping his face in your hands, your thumb brushing softly over his cheek.

“i’m sure,” you whispered, pulling him down into another kiss, softer this time, but no less filled with the emotions swirling between you.

what followed was slow, deliberate, and filled with a tenderness that you had never expected from heeseung. his hands moved over your body with care, as though he was savouring every touch, every breath. the fierceness from earlier softened into something more intimate, more meaningful, as he explored you with reverence, his lips following the path of his hands.

your name fell from his lips like a prayer, whispered against your skin in the quiet moments between kisses. heeseung’s touch was both possessive and gentle, as though he was claiming you but also offering himself to you in return. the intensity of the moment was overwhelming, but it was the tenderness in his gaze, the softness of his touch, that made your heart ache with something deeper than mere desire.

and as the night stretched on, your bodies moving together in perfect harmony, you realised that this wasn’t just about passion—it was about the connection you had been fighting against for so long. the rivalry, the bickering, the walls you had both built between you—it all crumbled away, leaving only the raw truth of what you felt for one another.

when it was over, you lay beside each other, your breathing heavy, your bodies tangled in the sheets. the room was quiet now, the only sound was the soft rustle of the fabric and the faint crackle of the dying fire in the hearth.

heeseung turned to you, his hand reaching out to gently brush a strand of hair from your face. his eyes, once so cold and guarded, were warm now, filled with an emotion that made your heart skip a beat. he pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around you and holding you against his chest as though he couldn’t bear to let you go.

you rested your head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. it was comforting, grounding you in the quiet aftermath of everything that had just passed between you. his fingers traced lazy patterns on your back, soothing and gentle, as he pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head.

neither of you spoke, but words weren’t necessary. the silence was filled with a sense of peace, of contentment that neither of you had known before. heeseung’s touch was soft now, filled with care as he held you close, his body warm and protective against yours.

and in that quiet, intimate moment, you realised something: this was more than just passion, more than just desire. it was something real, something lasting.

heeseung’s hand continued to trace gentle patterns on your back, his lips brushing your temple as he whispered softly, “are you alright?”

you smiled against his chest, your heart swelling with warmth at the tenderness in his voice. “more than alright,” you murmured, snuggling closer to him.

heeseung let out a soft sigh, his arms tightening around you as if he never wanted to let go. and as you drifted off to sleep in his arms, the weight of the past finally lifted, leaving only the warmth of the present and the promise of a future you were both ready to embrace.

the next morning, you woke to find heeseung already up, standing by the window of your shared chambers, his silhouette framed by the soft glow of the early morning light. he looked deep in thought, his expression pensive as he gazed out over the kingdom.

quietly, you approached him, wrapping your arms around his waist from behind. he stiffened for a moment at the contact but quickly relaxed, his hands covering yours as he let out a soft sigh.

“you’re up early,” you murmured, resting your cheek against his back.

“i couldn’t sleep,” he replied, his voice thoughtful. “i was thinking about everything that’s changed.”

you smiled, pressing a soft kiss to his shoulder. “a lot has changed, hasn’t it?”

heeseung turned in your arms, his expression soft as he looked down at you. “i never thought this would work,” he admitted, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “but i’m glad i was wrong.”

you gazed up at him, your heart swelling with warmth. the man standing before you was the same heeseung you had known all your life, but now, you saw him for who he truly was—not your enemy, not your rival, but your partner. your husband.

“i’m glad too,” you whispered, reaching up to cup his cheek. he leaned into your touch, his eyes closing for a moment, a small smile playing on his lips.

and in that moment, you knew that this was your new beginning. the past, with all its bitterness and tension, was behind you. what lay ahead was a future you hadn’t expected but one you were ready to embrace—together.

as heeseung pulled you into a gentle kiss, the warmth of the morning sun streaming through the window, you knew that this was the start of something beautiful. your marriage, once forged out of obligation and resentment, had grown into something real, something lasting.

and as you stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, you realised that sometimes, the best love stories were the ones you never saw coming.

𝗰𝗼𝗽𝘆𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 ©𝗴𝘆𝘂𝘂𝗯𝗲𝗿𝗿𝘆𝘆 on Tumblr

˚ · .𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗲𝗿𝘃𝗲𝗱

taglist: @punchbug9-blog @firstclassjaylee @capri-cuntz @addictedtohobi @jaysfavoritegirl

[factual-fantasy]

I remember part of the reason why I dropped off my Mario AU a bit was because I didn't really have a satisfying explanation/lore for the princesses..

Why is Peach the queen of the mushroom kingdom if she isn't a Toad? Why is Daisy the princess/queen of the Delfino's if she's not a Delfino? How does Rosalina fit into all this? No matter how hard I tried, I just had a bit of writers block and couldn't come up with anything I liked..

But lately I've been thinking about my Mario AU.. a lot. And after some brain storming.. I believe I'm onto something. I've been thinking about the prophecy, the super stars, 1-up mushrooms.. and I think I'm on my way to building some proper lore and fixing a lot of the plot holes my AU had. Starting with the princess' and their designs.

My version of Peach, Daisy and Rosalina(sort of) are the same species as Wario and Waluigi. So I gave them the make over they should have had from the start. Pointy ears, pink/purple noses, blue markings under the eyes and those classic black ring eyes that the Wario "bros" both have.

With the lore I'm working on, I gave Peach a new dress, color scheme and hairstyle. For Daisy I changed up her whole outfit, her crown, her hairstyle.. I also drew a bizarre mark on her shoulder/face.. hmm..

With some updates to Wario and Waluigi's story, I gave them the bruises and wounds they unfortunately should have..

Rosalina's design was the hardest to execute, and took the longest to color.. but I think I finally got the look I was after and might not need to redesign her again. I hope ya'll can tell what I was going for- <XD

Anyways, I would love to ramble about their stories sometime. But for now everything is still under development. And some of these designs are not final. I'm bound to go over Daisy and Peach a few more times until they look juuuust right. Until then, I hope ya'll like my artwork! :}}

[dolcettamagica]

𐙚˙⋆.˚ 𝐈'𝐦 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬, 𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐞

virgin!sukuna x virgin!reader, modern delinquent au

request: can you write modern au!sukuna and fem reader taking each others virginity with a established relationship tags: fluff, fingering, penetration, petnames (princess, baby, babygirl), sukuna is a delinquent; @mangiswig notes: minors dni, sukuna is lowkey ooc wc: 2.0k

Despite spending a significant portion of his formative years behind bars, the weight of consequence failed to curb the rebellious spirit of Sukuna. Emerging from the confines of incarceration with a hardened demeanor and a penchant for defiance, he returned to the streets that had once ensnared him with a renewed sense of determination. To Sukuna, the rules of society were nothing more than shackles, constraining him from the freedom he craved and the life he believed he deserved.

Fuelled by a potent cocktail of resentment and bravado, Sukuna navigated the urban landscape with the swagger of someone who had stared into the abyss and refused to blink. From petty theft to brazen acts of vandalism, he left a trail of chaos in his wake, a testament to the indelible mark of his troubled past. For Sukuna, the cycle of delinquency was a familiar refrain, a symphony of defiance that echoed through the corridors of his consciousness, a reminder of the streets that had shaped him and the choices that had defined him.

Yet Sukuna found an unexpected beacon of light in the form of you, a college student whose innocence and sweetness stood in stark contrast to his own turbulent world. Your love was a fragile bloom in the midst of concrete, delicate yet resilient, defying the odds with each passing day. Drawn to your gentle spirit and unwavering kindness,Sukuna found himself navigating unfamiliar territory, his rough edges softened by the warmth of your affection.

For almost a year now, you have been the anchor in Sukuna's stormy sea, a steady presence amidst the chaos of his life. With your unwavering belief in his capacity for change and your steadfast support, you became his guiding star, illuminating the darkest corners of his soul with the light of your love. Despite the whispers of doubt that lingered in the recesses of his mind, Sukuna couldn't deny the profound impact you had on his life, your presence a balm to his weary heart.

Your love for Sukuna knew no bounds, transcending the boundaries of societal norms and expectations. Despite the whispers of caution that echoed through the halls of your mind, you refused to turn away from the tumultuous storm that raged within him. To you, Sukuna was more than just the sum of his mistakes; he was a complex tapestry of darkness and light, a flawed masterpiece in need of redemption.

While others cowered in fear at the mere mention of his name, you stood unwavering by his side, your love a shield against the slings and arrows of judgment. You understood the depths of his anger, the ferocity of his defiance, yet you chose to love him all the same. For you, love was not about changing someone into who they should be, but rather embracing them for who they were, scars and all.

The decision weighed heavily on your heart, a tender offering you longed to bestow upon Sukuna, a symbol of your unwavering commitment to your love. With trembling hands and a courage born of devotion, you found yourself standing before him, your heart laid bare in the flickering light of your shared intimacy. “I want you to take my virginity tonight, Sukuna. I’m yours, fully.”

As your words pierced the air, a surge of conflicting emotions washed over Sukuna. His heart quickened with excitement, the prospect of possessing you in such an intimate way igniting a primal fire within him. Yet, beneath the surface, a flicker of nervousness danced in the depths of his eyes, betraying the weight of responsibility he felt in this moment. There was something he never told you. Sukuna, the known and feared criminal, was a virgin himself. He didn’t have the chance to lose it since most of his teen years were spent in jail and he met you shortly after his release. Yet, Sukuna was sure that he would manage to not have to confess to his virginity. 

Yet his dominant nature surged forth, a primal instinct asserting its dominance over his senses. With a predatory gleam in his eyes, Sukunas demeanor shifted, his posture becoming more assertive, more commanding. He saw this as an opportunity to claim you, to mark you as his own in the most intimate way possible. “Get on the bed, baby”, and you followed his command.

With a magnetic pull, Sukuna led you to his bed, your eyes locked in a heated exchange of desire and anticipation. The air was charged with electricity, every touch igniting a wildfire of longing between you. As you sank into the soft embrace of the mattress, a primal hunger consumed you, driving you to explore each other with an urgency born of passion.

With a possessive grip, Sukuna claimed your lips in a searing kiss, his dominance asserting itself with every fervent movement. His hands traced the curves of your body with a possessive intensity, his touch igniting a feverish need within you. You yielded to him willingly, your own desire mingling with his in a potent cocktail of longing and surrender.

“You’re so pretty, baby. I love you so much.”

Your clothes became mere obstacles, discarded in a frenzy of desire as you bared yourselves to each other without reservation. With each caress, each whispered promise, you delved deeper into the depths of your desire, your bodies becoming one in a dance of carnal pleasure and primal need.

“You belong to me, baby. All of you. Only to me. I’ll be your first and your last.”

As your passion reached its zenith, you lost yourselves in each other, your moans of ecstasy filling the air as you surrendered to the intoxicating rhythm of your desire. In that moment, on Sukuna's bed, you were consumed by the flames of your passion, your love, a blazing inferno that burned brighter with every touch, every kiss, every whispered promise of forever.

With a possessive hunger burning in his eyes, Sukuna trailed his fingers along your trembling form, tracing the contours of your body with a reverence that bordered on worship. As he settled between your parted thighs, he felt your pulse quicken beneath his touch, your breath hitching in anticipation of the ecstasy to come.

“You’re already soaked, princess. Been waiting for this, huh?”

With a predatory grace, he teased you with feather-light caresses, his fingers dancing over your skin in a tantalizing rhythm. Your soft gasps filled the room as he explored your most intimate depths, his touch sending shivers of pleasure cascading through your body.

With each stroke, he felt you surrendering to him, your barriers crumbling in the face of his relentless desire. He relished in the power he held over you, reveling in the way you arched into his touch, your cries of pleasure music to his ears, the way your wet pussy clenched and pulsated around his slender fingers. With a primal hunger driving him forward, Sukuna delved deeper into you, his fingers becoming an extension of his own desire as he brought you to the brink of ecstasy again and again.

“Don’t cum yet, babygirl. You wanted something else inside you, remember? Do you still want it?”

“Y–yes…ahh…f–fuck, yes, please, Sukuna.”

As Sukuna's touch grew bolder, you surrendered completely to the sensations coursing through your body. With each deliberate stroke of his fingers, you melted further into submission, your moans filling the air as you abandoned yourself to the overwhelming pleasure he bestowed upon you.

Your body quivered with every skilled movement, each sensation amplified by the electric tension that crackled between you. Your  breath hitched with every caress, your heart racing as you surrendered to the blissful torment of his dominance.

With a possessive hunger burning in his eyes, Sukuna reveled in the sight of you laid bare before him, your submissive surrender stoking the flames of his desire to new heights. Your moans of pure lust were like a siren's song, drawing him deeper into the abyss of his own primal urges.

Driven by an insatiable hunger, Sukuna's touch grew more demanding, more possessive, his own arousal building with each intoxicating sound that escaped your lips. With each whimper of pleasure, he felt the intoxicating rush of power surging through his veins, his dominance asserting itself with an almost feral intensity.

“I think you’re ready, baby.”

Sukuna positioned himself above you, your submissive form trembling with anticipation beneath him. With a possessive grip, he guided himself to your entrance, the throbbing heat of his arousal pressing against your quivering flesh. As he poised himself at the threshold of your innocence, a fierce determination coursed through him, driving him forward with an urgency born of primal desire. With a forceful thrust, he pushed himself inside your pussy, the sensation of your tight warmth enveloping him like a velvet vice.

“Oh– Fuck…fuck, it’s tight. You feel so fucking good, baby.”

You gasped at the intrusion, your body tensing with a mixture of pleasure and pain. With each powerful thrust, Sukuna claimed you as his own, his dominant nature asserting itself with every primal movement. As you moved together in a primal dance of passion and possession, Sukuna felt a surge of ecstasy and lust coursing through him. You felt so good stretching around him, he could feel your heartbeat through your wet, tight cunt.

As your bodies intertwined in the fervor of your passion, Sukuna's arousal reached a crescendo, the intensity of the moment threatening to overwhelm him entirely. With each hard, deep thrust, he felt himself teetering on the edge of ecstasy, his primal instincts driving him ever closer to the brink. He pounded into you like a wild animal, feeling the undying urge to not only claim your soul as his but also your body.

“Oh fuck…oh fuck no.”

But then, in a sudden and unexpected rush, Sukuna's control slipped away, his body betraying him in the most primal of ways. With a gasp of disbelief, he felt his release wash over him, his climax crashing over him with a force that left him trembling in its wake.

For a moment, time seemed to stand still as Sukuna grappled with the intensity of his own pleasure, his body pulsing with the aftershocks of his release. And as he collapsed against you, his breath coming in ragged gasps, he realized with a sinking feeling that he had cum far sooner than he had anticipated.

“…’kuna?”, your eyes shot wide, feeling him release his hot cum inside you. Usually it takes you far longer to get him to finish with your mouth. 

In the hazy aftermath of their passion, Sukuna's heart raced with a mixture of embarrassment and shame, his mind reeling with the realization that he had revealed his virginity in the most humiliating of ways. And as he looked into your eyes, he saw the confusion and concern reflected in your gaze, knowing that he would have to find a way to explain himself, even as his own insecurities threatened to consume him. Slowly he pulled out and grabbed the box of tissues next to his bed to clean you up.

With a heavy heart, he knew that he couldn't keep his secret any longer, not from you, not from the woman he loved more than life itself.

Summoning every ounce of courage he possessed, Sukuna steeled himself for the confession that weighed heavily upon his soul. With slightly trembling hands and a voice thick with emotion, he reached out to you, his eyes searching yours for understanding and acceptance.

"Baby," he began, his words coming out in a rush as he struggled to find the right ones. "I need to tell you something...something I should have told you before."

As he spoke, Sukuna felt the weight of his secret lifting from his shoulders, replaced by a sense of vulnerability unlike anything he had ever known. With each word, he bared his soul to you, revealing the truth of his inexperience, his virginity laid bare for you to see.

To his surprise, your reaction was not one of judgment or scorn, but of compassion and understanding. With a gentle touch, you reached out to him, your eyes filled with love and acceptance.

"Sukuna," you whispered, your voice barely above a whisper. "It doesn't matter to me. What matters is us, and the love we share. I’m yours and you’re mine."

[ysljoon]

Whirlwind | MYG

♡pairing: min yoongi x reader

♡wc: 3.1k

♡genre: smut, enemies to lovers, forced proximity, non-idol AU

♡ warnings: unprotected sex, degradation, oral sex (f receiving)

♡summary: with a hurricane coming your way towards your state, your roommate provides a safe haven to the man you’ve despised for as long as you can remember.

MINORS DNI (have your age in your bio or you're getting blocked)

The grocery store was bustling with people getting ready to prepare for the hurricane that was set to land in your state by the end of the week. You always knew once hurricane season started you needed to get supplies to keep you stocked, but since you’re plagued with the disease of procrastination you have no choice but to do last minute shopping. At least you had the company of Park Jimin to help you with your grocery run.

Park Jimin has been a close friend of yours since high school and have stayed roommates even after your college years. He has been the biggest support system for you throughout the years and you have been the same for him.

Once you were done checking out at the store you made your way to the car to pack all your groceries away. There was already a steady drizzle of rain falling down from the sky and you sighed already imagining the flooding that was bound to come with the storm. Jimin decided to take over the role of driving back home. You thanked him and quietly slid into the passenger seat. Jimin had refrained from any conversation throughout this trip and it made you a little concerned for him. He is never one to shy away from conversation or saying what he thinks so this behavior leads you to believe that something is wrong.

“Hey Chim, is everything alright?” You glanced his way to see if his expression will give anything away, but his face didn’t even twitch.

“Yeah I’m good bub, I just have some stuff on my mind. Don’t mind me.” He sent you a small smile to try and placate your worries.

“Okay well you know I’ll always be here to listen whenever you’re ready.” You gave him a small squeeze to his shoulder and dropped the topic the rest of the drive home. The soft hum of the radio filled up the silence of the car ride.

Once at home the groceries were unpacked and put into their respective places in the fridge and pantry and Jimin stored the cases of water bottles in the garage. Without glancing your way he called your name softly to get your attention once he was back in the kitchen. You peered at him waiting to hear what he was going to ask.

“Can we talk once I’m out of the shower?” You nodded and retreated to your room to give him the space he needed to do.

Your mind started to sift through memories of the past weeks to see if it could give you any kind of hint as to what this conversation could be about. Is he going to move out? Did you do something to upset him and didn’t realize? The cogs were turning and anxiety was starting to make you feel a little queasy. The time that Jimin took to shower and change felt like it was stretching on for too long. You were about to get up and check on him when you heard tow soft knocks against your door before he opened it to let himself in.

He was changed into an oversized sleep shirt and sweatpants and his bare cheeks were slightly flushed from the hot shower. You patted the middle of the bed for him to sit down and get comfortable.

“What’s going on Jimin? Are you sure everything is okay?” He was wringing his fingers together

And his eyes shifted around the room as he was preparing himself to speak. “With the hurricane coming up, is it okay if a friend comes and stays with us until it passes? His town is directly in the path of the storm and his area is prone to flooding.” You stared at him with widened eyes and nodded without hesitation. Why was he so nervous about this? This wasn’t nearly as bad as all the scenarios that you came up with in your mind.

“Of course that’s okay Chim! Any friend of yours is a friend of mine. Don’t scare me like though again I thought you were dying or going to move out!” You stretched to give him a hug and he rubbed your back gently. With that being the end of the discussion he bid you goodnight with a tight lipped smile that you gave no mind to and he took himself back into his bedroom.

Okay -scratch that- there is one friend of Jimin’s that is not a friend of yours. That person is the one and only Min Yoongi. He has been a thorn in your side since Jimin has entered your life. He has never done anything that was genuinely that awful to you but it’s the way he speaks and carries himself with such an arrogant attitude that aggravates you.

When you saw him walk through the threshold of your front door with his duffel bag you instantly felt your blood start to bubble from the boiling rage you had in your body. The glare you sent Jimin was deadly and you motioned him to follow you into your room so you can tear him a new one talk.

“Park Jimin I don’t know if you suddenly have amnesia for the past 10 years, but I don’t know where you got the idea that Min Yoongi is allowed into our home! If I had known it was him that you were offering a place to stay I would’ve just let the hurricane take him away.” You were livid. Jimin took your hands in his to stop the gesticulating you were doing. With the way your hands were moving wildly he was afraid you would hit him.

“ I didn’t tell you because of that reason Y/N. I know you don’t like him, but this is only temporary. I told him to be on his best behavior, but if he really acts out I’ll send him to a hotel nearby if the weather isn’t too bad.” You let out an exasperated sigh, but had nothing else to add to the conversation that would make it productive. You stomped back out into the living room and refused to acknowledge Yoongi’s presence. Maybe if you just ignore that he’s in your home you can keep your sanity intact.

“Hey princess, can you sit somewhere else? This is gonna be my bed for the next couple of days.” You gritted your teeth hearing that god awful nickname Yoongi called you. He always said it in such a condescending tone that would get under your skin in the perfect way. “In case you forgot Yoongi,” his name rolled off your tongue with a sharp bite. “This is my home that you are a guest in. You don’t get to boss me around on what I can and cannot do in my home and my couch.” You continued scrolling on your phone hoping he would get the hint to leave you alone. Needless to say you were wrong. Instead he decided to plop himself down on the couch without a care that jostled your body. You glared at him and he met your gaze with a stupid fucking smirk. On top of this he started to unpack his duffel bag noisily, tugging on the zipper with a strong force. You got up from the couch with a huff and locked yourself in your room with a slam of your door. This was going to be a strenuous couple of days.

The next day you woke up and found Jimin and Yoongi working outside to put shutters around the windows. This blowing wind was starting to pick up but the humidity was still high in the air. You stepped outside and greeted Jimin while he was busy holding the ladder to keep Yoongi stabilized. You retreated to get two cups of cold water to give the boys and when you came back outside Yoongi was wiping the sweat off his face with the front of his t-shirt. The way the fabric rode up to expose his pale skin and toned back had you staring without even realizing. Jimin was suddenly clearing his throat and when your eyes landed on his face he was staring at you with a raised eyebrow. You looked back at the cups and handed them both to Jimin and headed back inside without a word.

When they finished the project of the shutters the sliding door opened and when you walked in Min Yoongi’s shirt was off. You stared at his abs that were just as toned as his back. When the hell did he get so fit? Even his biceps were much bigger than you ever remember them. Why do you even remember the size of his biceps?

“You seem to have a staring problem princess, keep that up and I might do something about it.” His low voice took you out of your daze and you scoffed at his comment. “You come anywhere near me Min and I’ll punch you into next week. Watch yourself.” You slid your eyes back on the Netflix show that had lost your interest minutes ago. He just snickered and walked into Jimin’s room to take a shower.

Once the door was locked Jimin stood in front of the TV blocking your view with his hand on his hips. “What’s up with the sudden ogling you have for Yoongs? You wanna fuck him or something?” This made you burst out in sarcastic laughter. “Get real Jimin. I wouldn’t even touch him with a 10 foot pole.” you rolled your eyes at the thought of even getting touched by Yoongi. “Whatever you say, but your actions are contradicting the bullshit that you’re trying to convince me with.” And with that Jimin stalked off into to kitchen for a quick snack.

Later in the evening the thunderstorm was booming with thunder and you could see peeks of lightning through the shutters. The combination of these conditions with the howling wind has led the power to go out. Jimin searched for the lantern in the garage to bring back some light into the home. You were left with Yoongi in the living room and no words were said between the two of you. It's for the best. Yoongi felt like breaking the silence first.

“You know, I never understood why you can’t stand me princess. I don’t think I’ve done anything to wrong you.” He studied his nails as he talked. “First issue already is that dumbass nickname that you won’t stop calling me even though I told you endless times that I hate it.” “Aw, but I think it suits you and your stuck up behavior.” He sneered and this made you meet his eyes with a fiery glare. “Go fuck yourself Min. You’re one to talk about other people’s behaviors when you walk around like an arrogant ass. You have some fucking nerve.” The tension in the room was rising to levels that made it feel stuffy. Why the hell is it taking Jimin so long to find the lantern? “You think you know everything about me princess, but you don’t even know how wrong you are!” His voice was rising as he got up from the couch and he was now towering above your seated figure. “Well if I’m so wrong why don’t you prove it to me that you’re not some self-important prick.”

As soon as those words came out of your mouth his lips were colliding with your own and his fingers grasped your chin to keep you in place. You kissed back with the same amount of fervor and gripped the front of his sweatshirt. As soon as you let out a whimper of desperation, you heard the garage door open notifying you both of Jimin’s returning presence. Yoongi pulled away at light speed and took his seat back on the couch to keep the distance between you two. “What did I miss?” Jimin looked between the two of you with confusion spread on his face. You ignored his curiosity and retreated into your room before he could detect the flush spread across your face.

Since the power was lost the house became hotter as the night progressed and the sweatshirt you had was discarded for a cropped tank top and nothing more than panties for the bottoms. Your handheld fan lost power an hour ago since you decided to have it on full blast instead of trying to conserve the power to have it last longer. The sheen of sweat was building up on your skin and you went to the garage to get yourself a bottle of water to help cool down.

You nearly jumped out of your skin when you opened the door and saw Yoongi’s figure in the garage too. “Christ, you scared the hell out of me!” You clutched your hand over your heart trying to calm your heart rate. You’re too frazzled to realize that you’re standing in front of Min Yoongi in just your panties and that he’s shirtless and only boxers. He smirked and slowly approached you. You pedaled backwards until your back hit the wall and was cornered by him. His eyes roamed over your body and smirked. “You know you drive my crazy princess?” You turned your face to the side to avoid eye contact, but his breath fanned your neck in the right way to make your heart race. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You murmured through pouted lips.

He took a small step back with his arms crossed over his chest. “Really? Because the way you were whimpering for me hours ago just from a kiss says otherwise.” You flushed at his words and you were again cornered by him. He slit his leg between yours and his thigh was just ghosting the already damp spot you have in your panties.”Well I can give you a little reminder and more to jog your memory.” He raised his thigh and planted his hands on your waist to keep you place. The sudden sensation has you gasping and rutting your hips to get more friction.

“Look at you, you’re like a bitch in heat rutting against my thigh. You’re so desperate for me already and I haven’t even done a thing princess. I can’t wait to fuck your shitty attitude out of you.” His words were starting to anger you. “Shut the fuck up!” You were too busy chasing your high to even want to give him the time of day to his taunting. To this, he swiftly removed his thigh and went back to standing straight. You were distressed and looked at him with wide eyes. What is wrong with him? “Yoongi what the fuck?” He wrapped his long, slender fingers around the column of your throat. “You think you deserve to fucking cum? With the way you’ve talked to me all these years I could edge you all fucking week. Don’t tempt me.” You shivered at his words. His fingers slithered in between your legs and pushed your panties to the side to tease your clit. You released a breathy moan and threw your head on his shoulder. “Tell me no right now and I’ll stop right now sweetheart. We won’t even have to talk about it ever again.” You shook your head against his shoulder. “I need words, that isn’t enough.” “I want you to fuck me Yoongi. Now stop talking and do something.” The desperation was so evident in your words and that’s all he needed to hear.

His dexterous fingers got to work and slipped into your sloppy cunt. The way his fingers pumped into you had your eyes rolling into the back of your head. “F-fuck Yoon right there!” Your thighs were shaking and your pussy fluttered the closer you were to your orgasm. At the last second you were about to cum Yoongi slipped out his fingers and slapped your pussy. You were panting now with how worked up you were.

“Take the panties off. Now.” You obliged with his words and his dark eyes made you even wetter if that was even possible because you are the most soaked you’ve ever been before. Nobody has ever made you feel as good as Yoongi is right now. Once your panties were off he dropped to his knees and stuffed his head between your legs. You propped up one of your feet on his thigh and he grabbed the back of your thighs to bring you closer. His lips wrapped around your clit and started sucking on it. Your moans were rising in volume and in pitch. His tongue dipping into your hole and licking your cunt made you feral. You gripped on to his hair and that sensation had him moaning against your core. That was enough to send you over the edge. You let out a strangled moan as you came all over his mouth. “Fuck, you taste so fucking good on my tongue.”

You didn’t even get a chance to regain your bearings before Yoongi's lips were on yours. The taste of him mixed with you had you groaning. His cock was straining against his boxers and he was rutting against your thigh and he nibbled on your lip and kissed you fervently. “Now you’re the bitch in heat on my thigh.” You chuckled, but Yoongi wasn’t in the mood for jokes at the moment. He stripped off his boxers and the sight of his thick cock had you drooling. He tapped the back of your thigh twice and instructed you to jump up. You followed his instructions and his hands gripped your thighs as he pressed you against the wall. He angled his cock against your entrance and bottomed out in one go. This had you screaming out in pleasure and your nails dragged against his back.

He fucked into you mercilessly and reveled in the sounds you made. Knowing he was making you feel this good and scream out inflated his ego beyond the atmosphere. “Tell me you’re only fucking mine.” He growled into your ear. You were so fucked out you could barely process his words. “Tell. Me. Princess.” He punctuated each word with a deep thrust that had you seeing stars. “F-fuck I’m only y-yours Yoongi! Only yours!” He grinned hearing this. The coil in your stomach snapped and brought you to your second orgasm of the night. “Who would’ve thought the bitch with the most to say would be creaming all over my fucking cock.” Yoongi was groaning through his words and his thrusts were starting to get sloppy. After a few more strokes he pumped your pussy full of his cum.

You both were out of breath and panting and you winced when his softening cock slipped out of you. You both suddenly jumped at the sudden knock against the garage door. Jimins voice rang through the other side. “I’m glad you’ve been able to reconcile, but you two are fucking loud!” You heard his footsteps fade away and you and Yoongi snickered at each other. Maybe Min Yoongi isn’t as bad after all.

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

29 / 2.1k / soap soulmate au, part 6

...

Ghost looks up as Soap storms out of the weapons closet.

"Still herself, I take it?" Ghost asks.

"She's a stubborn pain in the ass is what she is."

As expected. Soap misses the dry amusement that crinkles the corners of Ghost's eyes very slightly. "Didn't talk, then," Ghost says.

Soap scowls. "Not a goddamn word we can use. She won't listen to reason. Thinks she can face down an army. Dense, irritating--"

"Strong-willed," Ghost says.

"To a damn fault. Canny see what I'm trying to do for her. I'm-- she's--" Soap can hardly articulate his frustration. He's got this sick feeling in his stomach like he's been kicked in the gut hard enough to make him hurl.

It's not just you being too stubborn to give up the intel. What happens when you’re freed? You’re not going to stick around. What if Graves snaps his fingers and you go right on back to him?

Soap lets out a rough sigh. "There's more than Graves keeping her from talking. I don't like it."

"You've got a plan?" Ghost guesses.

Soap nods. "Aye. I need to talk to Laswell--"

"Done." Ghost produces a beige folder and drops it into Soap's hands. "Had her look into it for you."

"I'll be damned." Soap flips through the pages in the folder. "Christ. Bloody thin file." He fans the pages inside like a flipbook as if checking for extra pages. "Where's the rest of it?"

"Not much there to dig up."

"Then she's gotta be missin' some--" Something catches Soap's eye as he skims through, and he pauses, lingering on a photo.

Hell's fuckin' bells.

"Think that'll help?" Ghost asks.

"I'd wager so."

"Good. You goin' back in?"

"Aye.” Soap folds the file into his jacket and gives Ghost a good-natured fist bump to the arm. Then he brushes past him, knocking into his shoulder.

Ghost grabs Soap’s arm again before he slips past. "We don't have much time. Price wants to move on Alejandro. Says if you can't get the intel, we go in blind. Rodolfo leads."

Soap sets his jaw. "How long?"

"Three hours. Tops." He claps a firm hand on Soap's shoulder and turns to leave. "Get some sleep."

…

A moment later, the metal grate door slides open. You straighten back up and steel yourself again.

There's something different about the way Soap carries himself this time. He's not wound as tightly. But the way his eyes settle on you is... odd. The shift in his expression puts you on edge.

He sits down across from you. "We've not got much time. If talking gets us nowhere, we'll try something else."

You lean back, mirroring his posture. "You gonna torture me?”

“That what you’re expecting?”

“Maybe. You ever tortured someone before?"

"Aye. Can't say I care for it, but I know how if that's what this takes." He examines you again with that sharp gaze. You don't feel like he's undressing you with his eyes anymore. It's more like he's searching for something. "Why ask? You want me to put my hands on ya?"

You ignore the mental image that imprints. "I want you to waste your time."

Soap smirks. "What I wouldn't give to let you waste my time. You, me, all this animosity between us... I've got a few negotiation techniques I'd very much like to try." He leans back into the chair, his hands folded in his lap with an easy grin. "But you're no' the type to break under pressure."

"Better men than you have tried."

"Tried torturing you?" His grin tightens just slightly. "Anyone I know? Names, locations?"

Your cheeks heat up again. At that, for some reason. "I can take care of myself."

"I know you can."

He produces the thin file and tosses it onto the table between you.

You look down at the papers that slide out. They're grainy and covered in redactions as if printed and bound, pulled from the deep end of some filing cabinet, scanned, rescanned, and printed again. But you glimpse your name. Your real name--the one printed on Johnny's skin, too. Your chest twists and your stomach sinks.

Soap sees the change in you and leans forward, elbows wide. He opens the file and pushes it across the table. "I'll do anything to protect you, darlin'," he says. "But I need information."

The file is everything you don't want anyone to know. But what catches your eye is that photograph. "Who else has seen this?"

"Me and Laswell. Maybe Ghost if he was feelin' nosy. Does Graves know?"

You pull on your cuffs, wanting to reach for the pages and push them away. "Captain Graves said he'd make this disappear."

Soap leans back, broad palm sliding out to touch the edge of the pages, and his expression softens for a moment. "Some things you can’t make disappear."

You look at him, twisted up with pain and anger. "So, what, if I don't talk, you're threatening to expose all this? Is that it? It won't work," you add with false confidence. "Captain Graves knows everything."

"What I want to know," Soap says, voice quiet, "is what he did with it."

"What?"

Soap leans forward again. "Did he threaten you? Did he say he’d make this go away if you worked for him, hold it over your head?"

"No!” you snap. “After this happened, I couldn't-- I was discharged from the military. I couldn't find work. He reached out to me. Said he didn’t mind if I had… history. Then he offered to have it scrubbed if I wanted.” You stare down at the papers. “He never threatened me. He helped me."

Soap lets out a breath. He was prepared to deal with something a lot worse than that. Maybe he hoped for something worse. If Graves were blackmailing you, the solution would be easy. He'd give you protection, offer to have Laswell erase that file from existence instead, CIA-style. After all, if Graves got his claws into you and onto his payroll that way, why couldn't he? Probably got you dirt fucking cheap, too. Bastard.

Part of Soap wants to press that angle. He could tell you Graves never intended to deliver on his side of the deal. But the truth is that Graves would've had little control over this. Seeing the state of the file, Graves likely did what he could to have it redacted, sealed, destroyed--but someone over his head intervened. Shepherd, maybe. There'd be nothing Graves could do.

Soap wants you more than anything, but the pain in your eyes when you look at these documents tears him up inside. He can’t manipulate you that way. Even if he got you to himself in the end, he'd never forgive himself.

"That's... that's good. He protected you." Soap crosses his arms, squeezing his fist hard around the object inside, the one he pickpocketed off Ghost a few minutes ago. Much as he hates Graves, the man kept you safe. But that's his job now.

"I don't care who you tell," you snap, suddenly full of anger and spitting fire. The sight of those pages puts you on edge. You feel like a cornered animal. "I'm not telling you a goddamn thing. Do whatever you want to me. You're no better than--"

"Am no' blackmailin' ya." Soap's expression sours. So much venom in that mouth of yours. He runs his thumb over his tightened knuckles to suppress his own temper. He's amazed at how easy it is for you to get under his skin, how you push all these buttons when he's the one who's supposed to be pulling the strings.

But he realizes how this must seem. You act tough, but you're vulnerable, exposed, and he has every reason right now to drive the knife in and twist it hard. Maybe he should. Going into the Las Almas base blind means danger for his squadmates.

Christ, he’s tired. He pinches the bridge of his nose. "Darlin’, I... I know now you've done things you're not proud of. But that doesn't change anything. Not to me, not to Ghost-- hell, none of us would bat an eye. You don’t need to protect yourself anymore. I need you to talk to me. We're out of time."

He thinks this is about you protecting yourself? You shake your head. "If you’re storming the Las Almas base, you're going up against Shadows. You're asking me to help you kill my own."

"If that matters to you, then tell me how to get to Alejandro without alerting the guards. Nobody has to get hurt."

You scoff, looking away. "There's no way to do that and you know it."

"We don't have to shoot them if they stand down first."

"That's not going to happen. They'll shoot you on sight. It'll be a bloodbath."

"Not for us."

You close your eyes. "I know. That's what I'm worried about."

Soap lets out a frustrated breath. "We're going in whether you talk or not. The blood's on our hands. Not yours."

You keep your gaze angled away, clearly not believing that. "I don't see why you care about security. I don't see why you need intel at all. This is what you're good at, right? This is what 141 does. You break in doors, you kill people."

Soap grips the edge of the table. "The only thing gettin' you out of here is information. I don't care what it is or if it's useful. Price wants intel."

"I don't have it." Your voice is flat and cold. Whatever you can do to make him understand you're not worth the effort.

He leans in and grabs your chin, gently forcing you to look at him. "Then lie to me."

"What?" You stare at him, feeling pinned under that intense gaze. "Are you fucking insane?"

"Might be," A small, sly, half-smile curves his lips. "I'm also desperate, runnin' out of time, and at the end of my rope after starin' at you this long, knowin' I can't have you." He runs his thumb along your cheek. "Maybe I'm bankin' on you losin' your mind before I do."

You swallow. "You'll be waiting awhile."

He smirks. His thumb moves from your cheek to your chin, fingers trailing down the side of your neck. "Do you think you're a good liar?"

Before you can answer, someone bangs on the metal door, rattling it. Price's voice echoes in from outside.

"Get some sleep, Soap," he calls. "We're briefing soon. Give it a rest. We’ll press her for more intel after we’ve got Alejandro back.”

Soap tenses at the sound of Price's voice. "Wasn't planning on sleepin'," he calls back.

"Wasn't a question," Price calls back. You hear him walk away.

Soap withdraws his hand, letting out a soft curse.

"Why would you give your own Captain false information?" you hiss. "You could lose your job. You could get court-martialed. Even if it worked, what if Shepherd finds out? He's still in your chain of command."

"Guess that's a risk I gotta take."

"Then what if I tell you something that gets your teammates hurt, huh?"

"Won't happen. I'll be in the front when things get risky."

"Then how do you expect me to-- if it means you're the one who's--" You huff, words failing you. "You're so goddamn thick."

"Am I? Because here I am, tryin' to make plans and get a read on you, and all you wanna do is piss me off and run your mouth. I'm learnin' a lot." He tilts his head. "In fact, it's startin' to sound like you're worried about me."

"Absolutely not."

"Could always tell me the truth. Extra insurance if you do. Maybe it’ll keep me alive."

"You don't need it," you snap.

"I think I do." He leans in, crossing his legs and folding his arms. "Got a bad feeling about this one. No Shadow worth their salt wouldn’t send us straight to hell if it meant finishing the job. Especially Graves."

You feel another pang of dread in your gut. He's right.

He watches you for another long moment. Neither of you speak.

Finally, he stands, sighing deeply as he goes to the door. "Alright."

"Are you coming back?" The words spill out of your mouth before you can stop them.

He pauses in the doorway. Then he turns back, staring at you like there's something he wants to say. He looks down at the stolen object still clutched in his hand--the key to your cuffs.

He opens the door, slipping through without another word.

...

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / [part 6] / part 7 / part 8 / part 9 / part 10 / part 11 / part 12

more Soap / masterlist tag

[cordeliawhohung]

Of Sea Foam and Iron [3]

general masterlist | series masterlist | taglist

Hephaestus!ghost x Aphrodite!reader x Ares!soap

a storm hits

wc: 3.9k

warnings: historical au with lots of inaccuracies, mythology!au, nudity, talk of war and gore

Cold linens awaited you when you truly woke from your rest as John and Simon’s presence had dissipated.

There was no chin to rest against the top of your head, or a strong chest to press against your back. In fact, the only proof that they had ever been there at all was their lingering scent on your skin. You closed your eyes as soon as they fluttered open, trying to draw back the memory of their hands on your waist and the comforting weight that accompanied it. It was only a pale imitation of the real thing, and it left your chest yearning for something you knew you would never gain the courage to ask for. 

When your eyes opened for a second time, they did so with a great huff from your lungs. Pale sunlight and a strong breeze drifted through the cracks of the closed shutters, and though salt was always ever present in the air, you could smell the promise of rain hiding underneath the brine. It would be a good day to stay inside. 

Usually you didn’t need your himation in the warm summer months, but without the golden sun to warm the house, a heavy chill pricked at your body. You wrapped the thick wool around your shoulders before you descended downstairs on creaky steps. Simon was already hard at work for the day, and you hardly got halfway to the landing before you heard his hammer echo with its metallic clink in the courtyard. All Simon had done since the day the two of you were bound together in matrimony was work. In the beginning, you were certain that it was to distance himself from you — his unruly wife — but once John returned home you thought he would allow himself to rest. Yet, it seemed as if that’s all the man ever wanted to do. 

“Mornin’ little dove,” John grinned. 

A strong fire blazed in the central hearth of the home where dancing flames attempted to lick John’s back as he sat faced away from his hard work. Blue eyes sparkled with a warmth that rivaled the fire behind him, and you almost felt a smile flitter across your lips. There was nothing different from his gaze that morning compared to the previous day, yet his fingers twitched as they rested on his bent knees as if they searched for something.

“Morning,” you replied, voice meek as you adjusted your himation. 

Johnny’s hand slipped off of his knee where he patted the hearth next to him invitingly. “Come, get warm.” 

Your bare feet hardly made a sound against the floor as you crossed into the threshold. Each step brought the warmth of the flames along your legs where they dethawed your cold toes and fingers. John watched you with careful eyes as you situated yourself on the stone slab next to him, and he hummed once you settled. Heat prickled up your spine and it chased away the residual morning cold that clung to your body; though, you were unable to tell if that was because of the fire, or because of John. 

“Rain is coming,” he said. His head tilted back to look up at the ceiling as if it were the sky instead. “A storm, maybe.” 

Over the roaring of the fire behind you, a dull roll of thunder grumbled somewhere in the distance. It was not frequent that your city received storms, as Poseidon often smiled upon you. Though one could argue he was angry, if the storm was mild, perhaps he only sent the rain to assist with the farmers and their crops. 

“That would be nice,” you mused. 

John chuckled warmly. “You like the rain?”

“I think so,” you answered. “I like the water. The ocean.” 

“A fine thing to love.” 

Instinct told you to look at him, yet you refrained from doing so. Despite the familiarity in the tone of conversation, John was still a stranger to you. Some man who had returned only yesterday to embrace your husband while dressed to gut enemies. Still, he was kind, but despite the fire at your back, you were silent and cold. 

“I… wanted to talk more about yesterday,” John continued through your silence. “I’m sure you still have many questions, as Simon isn’t the most prolific.” 

“Prolific?” you repeated with your snark hardly restrained. “He’s spoken a handful of words to me since we’ve been married.” 

“Like I said, quiet,” he repeated with a poorly hidden laugh. “Though, I wasn’t much help prompting answers from him yesterday, either. Dead on my feet after traveling. Took us just short of a fortnight to arrive home.” 

John rubbed at his eyes as if the exhaustion still plagued his vision, and yet even with his movement you did not glance at him once. Looking at someone often brought a weakness about you that you had difficulty conquering. There was something about their eyes that had you see the humanity within them, no matter how hard they tried to hide it. You would have hated to crumble in front of him. 

“Well,” you prodded, “perhaps you can get an explanation out of him, then. He spoke not a word of your existence and then introduced you as my second husband? Such terrible madness.” 

“I already got an explanation out of him this morning while you slept,” he sighed. “Which is why I want to talk to you. I’m better at explaining things than Simon is.” 

Bewildered, you finally allowed your eyes to fall on John. “Must you be so casual about this? Was this not a surprise to you? Coming home to your husband having wedded himself illegally to someone else?” 

“Simon is not my husband.” 

Your expression betrayed the icy exterior you used to conceal that softness inside. It was difficult to tell if it was because of your confusion, but you found your heart aching at those words. John could not look at you when he said them, and though they left his tongue with ease his tone was soaked in a somberness that burned. 

“Soldiers aren’t permitted to marry,” he explained, blue eyes trained on the floor in front of him. “They say love gets in the way. Muddles things up. Soldiers have only one duty, and it’s to the state.” 

He paused.

“I would have liked to have married him.” 

If it wasn’t for the pain in his voice, you would have been afraid. The lost longing painted you to be the ruiner; the pitiful being that tainted something that had not gotten the opportunity to bloom. A desert-like dryness settled on your tongue. It tasted worse than sand. It was bitter, grainy, and promised to end you. 

“I’m sorry,” was all you could say. 

“Don’t be,” John said with an attempt at humor. “I told him to find a wife. To get married. Have children. I would have hated for him to wait around forever just for me.” 

“Could you not have waited? I thought soldiers were only required to serve for two years,” you pondered. 

John hummed again. He did that often, as if song better suited his ideas than mere words. Thick fingers pressed into the joints of his wrists as he massaged tired muscles and traced faded scars before answering you. 

“Most only serve for two years, yes,” he concurred. “But, you don’t earn the name Ares’s Dog by serving the minimum. My heart is here in the city, but my home is in the viscera leftover from battle.” 

He paused as he twisted his torso to look behind him. A large hand reached for a split log in the pile just next to the fire, and John expertly tossed it into the flames. The fire cracked loudly, content with its meal. 

“No. I told him to marry, so it wasn’t quite the surprise when I came home and you were already here,” he explained as he repositioned himself. “Find a wife. Start a family. And if his wife would have me too, then I would stay. But it seems things weren’t that simple considering your… situation.” 

“Yes,” you concurred, voice soft. “It wasn’t… proper.” 

“Simon told me what your father had to do to protect you. I’m sorry you had to witness such gore,” Johnny consoled. “I understand why he would hastily marry you off to Simon if it meant having the protection you deserve. And, well, knowing Simon as well as I do, he didn’t hesitate at all in marrying you if it meant aiding you.” 

A scoff tore through your vocal chords so fierce it left a sour aftertaste on your tongue. John spoke of Simon as if he were Apollo himself, guiding the sun across the sky to bring light and warmth to the soil beneath your feet. You were certain that John’s feelings towards Simon weren’t unfounded at all, but though he had never been cruel or unkind to you in any way, he was not loving. Not to you, anyway. 

“Could have fooled me,” you spat. “I feel like a ghost in this house. At least he avoids me like one.” 

Despite your sour attitude and words, John only chuckled. 

“His love is strange, yes,” he said. “It’s still new to him; love. Being vulnerable. Something he was never granted before. He’ll keep his distance, if you let him. I swear to you, you’ll find no finer man than him.” 

Another roll of thunder shook the sky. It was stronger than the quiet whisper of one you heard minutes earlier, and it all but demanded attention. Both you and John looked up to the ceiling, and moments later the soft trickle of rain engulfed the house. Though none of the windows were open, you pulled your himation closer to you as if to stave off the breeze that beat at the shudders. The thick wool soaked up the heat of the fire like a sponge, keeping you well insulated despite the impending storm. 

A content sigh left John as he carefully pushed himself to his feet. Soft trails of goosebumps prickled across his skin as he stepped away from the fire and into the cold, but he didn’t stray far before turning to face you once more. His hands reached for you where they hovered in the air, patiently waiting for you to accept his offer. 

“Come. We should eat,” he urged.  

It was not your first time putting your hands in his. He always seemed to want to hold you and gently guide you as if you did not know any better. Still, you accepted his assistance as he pulled you from the hearth. Somehow, his hands were warmer than the flames, and though you were standing on your own, he refused to let you go. 

“I meant what I said earlier,” he said, blue eyes boring into you. “I told Simon to find a wife, and if she would have me, then I would stay. If you do not wish for me to be here, say the word, little dove. Your father might have wanted for you to be under my protection, but I will not share a bed with a woman who would want someone else. I will leave no mark on this place when I go, if that’s what you wish.” 

No response rose in your mind or throat at his reminder, but a heavy fit of remorse weighed on your chest. He spoke those words as if he were the intruder. As if he had not loved Simon and lived in that house long before you ever came around. It was difficult to tell if you had fully accepted the idea that you lived with two men; though even if you hadn’t, it was something your father obviously wanted for you. Still, even if you didn’t want him around, you would not deny him the flesh and warmth of his lover. 

“Stay,” you said, voice quiet. 

John’s smile was the warmest you had ever seen. No hint of lust or darkness; only a pure appreciation for your kindness, something you felt like you weren’t capable of those days. His tongue darted out between his lips as if in anticipation, and you ignored the way it made your stomach churn. 

“Then it is done.” 

Trickling rain continued into the afternoon before it started to swell into a proper storm. Whistling wind became near deafening as it threatened to pull the house apart, and it wasn’t until the sky was black with clouds that Simon finally ceased his work and took shelter inside. With the amount of water that dripped from his clothes when he came limping into the kitchen for lunch, you were surprised he hadn’t drowned out there. Strands of hair stuck to his forehead and down the nape of his neck, and his chiton clung to his body in a way that certainly wasn’t comfortable. His frigid skin tinged pink with his scars extra angry and puffy. 

Both you and John looked up from your food at the sopping wet mess of a man who dirtied the kitchen. Simon’s chest heaved with fatigue, and his feet hardly lifted from the ground as he meandered towards John. 

“How’s the weather?” John asked facetiously. 

“Frustrating,” Simon huffed. “Can’t keep a goddamn fire lit or burnin’ hot enough.”

He paused once he approached John’s side, eyes focused on the plate of food in front of him. Without a word, he snatched a fair size of cured meat off of it before taking a bite and turning around. Simon continued his pitiful shuffle as he exited the kitchen, shoulders hunched and legs shaking. John did not appear to mourn the loss of his food, yet his eyes stayed trained unwavering on his lover’s body as he rounded the corner. 

“He seems upset,” you noted. 

“He’s in pain,” John explained. 

A clash of thunder sounded just as John rose from his chair, and he left his plate behind as he began to rummage for something around the stove. Its embers ebbed and waved with brilliant scarlet light, and it almost danced to life in flames when John knelt before it. He retrieved two medium sized, semi-flat stones tucked into the stonework and placed them on the small hearth next to the dying embers. Nodding to himself, he then turned to you, worry etched deep in his face. 

“Wait a few minutes, then grab these stones and bring them up to our chamber,” he asked while his feet began to wander out of the room. “They’ll be hot, so grab them with cloth. Take care not to burn yourself.” 

Without another word, he vanished out of the room where you then heard his feet stomping up the stairs moments later. Rain refused to quiet nor waver even as you carefully cleaned up yours and John’s plate. 

Pain? Simon was in pain? Well, John could certainly read your husband better than you could, because you thought he had just been his regular self. Still, you supposed it wasn’t entirely impossible. With as many scars that afflicted his body, you were certain the damage ran deeper than just superficial marks on his skin. 

As instructed, you waited until the rocks had soaked plenty of warmth before using the edge of your himation to grab them. With careful hands, you trekked up the stairs to the second floor where you found John and Simon in bed together. A drenched chiton sat on the floor next to the bed, but Simon’s naked body still glistened with the memory of its moisture. His chest heaved and he grunted like an animal as he slung an arm over his face, hiding his eyes from the light of the oil lamp that flickered on the nightstand. 

John’s thumbs dug into the muscle around Simon’s knees, massaging them with what appeared to be less than gentle touch. Simon hissed, jaw flexing as his teeth grinded together, yet he kept still as the man worked at him. You approached the side of the bed with hands outstretched, hot rocks tucked together underneath thick wool sitting in your palms. 

“Is he alright?” you questioned.

John paused long enough to turn and grab the stones from your hands. His fingers didn’t flinch when he grabbed them, as if he was so used to the heat of them that it no longer phased him. 

“It’s the weather,” he explained. “The old wounds in his knees are aggravated by the change.” 

You watched with apprehension as John pressed the rocks against Simon’s skin, yet your husband didn’t flinch. The tense muscles that flexed in his thighs slowly began to soften as John moved the rocks carefully around his knee, tracing the long scar that dissected his skin. It was one of the first things you noticed about him the day you got married. Deep and ugly, it ailed him so bad he couldn’t walk straight because of it; forever bound to limp in weakness despite the strong stature his body would otherwise have you believe. 

Another smaller scar mirrored in perfect continuity on his other knee. It was not as deep nor as angry, but you could clearly make out the line in which both scars connected. A blade. It must have been. There was no other weapon that you knew of that could’ve created a scar such as that. His entire body, even his face, was littered with the unsightly marks. 

Why would a blacksmith have such scars? 

John moved from one knee to the next, warm rocks soothing away the ache so deep in Simon’s body that hands alone could not heal. You quietly stole a seat on the mattress next to Simon, and you carefully watched the mesmerizing motions of John’s circling hands. He was so… soft for a soldier. Considerate. It’s a side of man you weren’t used to seeing after witnessing such violence in your home. For a while, you thought love was just violence; blood waiting to be spilled. Perhaps love was just warm rocks against tired skin. 

“What happened?” you asked with eyes still trained on the old wound. 

John’s eyes glanced up at Simon, who wasn’t able to see his gaze through the arm slung over his face. As if he felt the burn of his eyes, the man shifted on the bed before letting out a heavy sigh. 

“Tell ‘er, Johnny. Know you like tellin’ the story,” he urged. 

A grin bloomed on John’s face as he turned his attention back to Simon’s knee. “He got this from saving my life.” 

Stunned, you shifted on the mattress to get closer, and your thigh brushed against Simon’s leg. How your husband could handle the cold of your chambers completely naked and half wet was beyond you. Your body yearned for any warmth it could steal. 

“I don’t believe it,” you countered. 

Really, you didn’t. How could John MacTavish, hailed hero of your city, need any sort of saving? You didn’t at all doubt Simon’s capability of saving someone; it was just the thought that John could ever find himself in such a precarious situation that you doubted. 

“I’d never lie to you, little dove,” John chuckled. “No, Simon and I served together, once upon a time ago. Trained together. Fought together.” 

He paused his story in order to switch knees again, returning to the one closest to him. Simon’s breathing had already calmed, and he no longer panted like a mad dog. Any tension that had been harbored in his body when you first entered the chambers had almost been completely washed away. 

“Years ago both of us had been deployed in a large-scale battle. It was a bloody skirmish with swords flailing every which way, I swear the glint of metal was brighter than the sun that day,” John recalled. “But there was this big brute who fought with a club. Rivaled the size of Simon, even, which isn’t easy. Bastard snatched the shield right out of my hands and knocked his club against my chin. Split me right open and knocked me out cold.” 

A hand instinctively covered your mouth as John shared the story, and he paused for a moment to look at you. He seemed to take some sort of boyish pride in your worry, and he tilted his chin up to put his own scar on display. You had hardly noticed it before due to his stubble and your active effort to not look too many people in the eyes, but it marked his skin as clear as day. It was deep, spanning from the front of his chin and curling underneath the right side of his jaw in an angry, red line. 

“I wasn’t out long, of course, but I wasn’t all there when I woke up,” he continued. “Felt like I was underwater, could hardly breathe. Bastard stood over me ready to bash my head in like a damn melon when Simon swooped in like an eagle. Sliced him to bits before he could do anything else to me. But war is messy and unforgiving. Several others piled on him, got him pretty good. Still killed the bastards.” 

“All but one,” Simon corrected. He had been so quiet you swore he had fallen asleep. “One of ‘em ran off.” 

“He killed the bastards that weren’t cowards,” John amended with a chuckle. “But they got his knees. Surprised infection didn’t take him. But Simon, my love, stubborn man that he is, carried me off the field even with his wounds.”

“Would you rather I dragged you?” Simon asked. 

“You should’ve left me there.”

“I love you too much for that.” 

The sound of rain smothered the conversation as both men fell silent. Rotten shame boiled deep in your stomach as your eyes carefully scanned Simon’s body. Over the weeks, you had gotten so used to his unabashed nakedness to the point it didn’t phase you, but that wasn’t what made you feel shameful; it was the realization of how bitter you had been. 

On the day of your wedding when Simon lifted your veil from your face, the only thing you could think was how ugly he was. The scars that littered his body were just eyesores, and his limp didn’t make him a paragon of strength. Hardly the man that was supposed to protect you from the wicked ways of the world. How cruel you were for thinking such a thing. For looking at the scars he earned saving the life of his lover as if they were an eyesore rather than proof of his devotion. How dare you look at him as anything less than he was; a man who loved?

In an attempt to swallow down your shame, you found your own hands reaching out for Simon’s knee. The heat of his skin felt nice against your frigid hands, but he flinched at the sensation. You paused as you looked up at his half obscured face, and you didn’t look away until you felt his muscles melt and relax underneath your touch. 

In silence, you mimicked John’s movements with your thumbs. Tendons and muscle danced underneath your fingertips as you did your best to massage the pain from your husband. With hands as weak as yours, you were certain it hardly did anything to help him at all. Still, you continued, and you prayed to the gods that he could feel your silent apology through your touch alone.

[smileysuh]

the alpha's right hand

🌙 staring. Mingyu x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. Mingyu had thought he’d lost you - if even for a moment - and he’s not willing to lose you ever again. He doesn’t want you running into the woods anymore when you’re having emotions, he wants you running to him, and he kisses you as if to say ‘please, never leave.’ He had always thought Seungcheol would be his alpha, but you’d shown up and flipped his world upside down. Mingyu doesn’t care about appeasing his friend anymore- all he cares about is appeasing you- pleasuring you, giving you everything you could ever possibly want, everything you could ever need.

tw/cw. a/b/o au & power structures, mentions of a bad pack past, one mention of child death, blood/childbirth, exhibitionism/outside sex, clothed dry humping, fingering, mutual masturbation, hand job, big dick!Mingyu, pussy stretching, unprotected sex, pullout method, groping, overstimulation, praise, dirty talk, needy!Mingyu, hair pulling, orgasm control, small noncon/impreg thoughts, etc… I pet names: (hers) alpha. (his) Big guy, puppy.

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 14.4k

🍭 aus. a/b/o au, werewolf au, alpha!reader, beta!Mingyu, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. this fic is in the Blood Moon universe, if I end up writing another fic for this au, it will get a masterlist, but until then read cheol here

Mingyu loves thunder storms. There’s something almost therapeutic about the percussion of the sky, the flashes of light and the smell of rain in the air. It’s been a dry summer, and the water is a much-needed reprieve. 

The beta wolf sits on his sheltered wrap-around cabin porch, a mug of tea in his hand while he watches the sky. Some of his packmates have called him crazy, but Mingyu doesn’t care. They can bundle up inside, but a summer storm is just what he needs to clear his head.

Whats the point of being a wild thing if you don’t appreciate the weather? Mingyu knows he shouldn’t question alphas, but Soonyoung and Jihoon are particularly prissy about rain. Seungcheol, however, doesn’t have a care in the world. He’s out chopping wood, a white t-shirt sticking tight to his muscles while he swings the ax down on a log.

Mingyu had asked if he needed any help, but Seungcheol had refused. The beta thinks his alpha must be bulking up in preparation for his child on the way, and Mingyu doesn’t blame him.

No one would be crazy enough to challenge Seungcheol as head alpha, but in the dark corners of Mingyu’s mind, he supposes there’s always a chance. And with a new baby, Seungcheol is at least partially exposed. Mingyu admires his alpha for taking extra precautions like this.

Seungcheol stops cutting wood, straightening and looking out toward the trees. Mingyu is on high alert immediately, putting his tea down and standing, sniffing at the wind. 

The cedar and newly moist dry earth are predominantly the scents that overwhelm him, but there’s something else too,something underneath the natural pleasantries-

Then Mingyu hears the snapping of twigs, as if something large is coming through the brush a few hundred feet away. Mingyu knows immediately that it’s not a bear, no bears come through their property, they’d be stupid to try- no, the scent is a much more familiar one; wet wolf. But as far as Mingyu knows, the whole pack is inside their cabins-

Seungcheol squares his shoulders as he stairs out at the trees, and Mingyu bounds down the steps to join his alpha, staying a few feet back. The ax in Seungcheol’s hand glints in the grey light. 

“Cheol?” Mingyu asks, looking for guidance. 

“Shh,” the alpha tuts, grip tightening on the wooden ax handle. 

Something large stumbles through the tree line. A huge, amber-coloured wolf. You’re much too big to be a regular canine, and Mingyu knows immediately that the animal in front of them is no animal at all, you’re a person- and his suspicion is confirmed when you shiver, slowly beginning the transformation back into your regular form.

Watching a werewolf shift is always a unique experience, and Mingyu’s breath catches during the three seconds it takes for the wolf to become a girl. You crumble against the grass, naked and breathing heavily.

Mingyu can’t help himself, he immediately tugs off his flannel, running toward you to cover your modesty. “Oh my god-” he whispers. “Are you okay?!”

You nod weakly, letting out a soft groan, and his heart races when you curl up against his thigh, fingers tugging at the denim of his jeans.

“Mingyu, step back from her,” Seungcheol commands, and for the first time in a long time, Mingyu questions his alpha’s judgment.

“But-”

“Just do it,” the alpha growls, eyes flashing red as he bares his teeth at Mingyu. 

Mingyu lets out a breath, but he does as he’s told, retreating from you on the ground to go join Seungcheol.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” Seungcheol says to you. “Where’s your pack?”

“I don’t have a pack,” you respond, fingers grabbing at the grass as you lift your head to look at them. 

“I find that hard to believe,” Seungcheol muses. “Alpha females are rare, they always have a pack.”

“Not me,” you shake your head and Mingyu is doing his best to get this whole situation straight. You? A female alpha? There aren’t many of those- not pure blood ones anyways- usually female alphas become alpha when they mate with a male alpha, but you- “I ran away.”

“You ran away?” Mingyu asks in shock.

The life of a loner wolf can be deadly, let alone for a female-

“They tried-” you sit up, wrapping the flannel around your body, “They tried to marry me off to an alpha twice my age. I refused. And then I ran.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Seungcheol says after a brief pause. “But I still don’t see how you ended up here.”

“I heard you’re a pack with three alphas- I thought… I thought if anyone would take me in it would be you.” There’s a vulnerability in your eyes, and a sincerity in the shaking of your voice. 

Mingyu can see that you’re desperate, and it feels as if maybe their pack truly is your only hope- the rain beats down harder, and Seungcheol has a staring match with you while you sit in the mud.

“We wouldn’t know what to do with a female alpha,” he says finally.

“You don’t have to do anything,” you insist. “Just give me a place to stay, a home, a family- and I promise I won’t challenge you. I’ll be loyal, I’ll back you up, I promise. I never wanted to be a pack leader- I never wanted the responsibility, please- I have nowhere else to go- everyone else would marry me off to another alpha-”

“Seungcheol?” a pretty female voice calls through the storm, and both wolves snap their heads towards the sound. Seungcheol’s glowing new bride is standing on the deck of her cabin, one hand wrapped protectively around her large baby bump.

“Go back inside!” Seungcheol shouts, and his wife does so without a second thought. She’s very submissive in this last trimester, and she trusts Seungcheol to make decisions for her best interest above all things.

“You have females here,” you say quietly.

“Not female alphas,” Seungcheol states.

“Still- maybe you need a midwife- birthing alphas can be a rough situation-”

Seungcheol adjusts his grip on the ax. “Are you familiar with midwifery?” 

“Oh yes,” you nod. “I had four younger brothers, I was there during all their births.”

“If you have four younger brothers, why aren’t they with you?”

“I had four younger brothers,” you repeat. Even from a few feet away, Mingyu can see your eyes glistening with emotion, and it’s not the rain. “My eldest brother- he- well, he didn’t want to be challenged.”

“You’re from the Arcadia Pack,” Seungcheol says suddenly, and things click in Mingyu’s head a moment after the words slip from his alpha’s mouth.

The Arcadia pack is a nomadic pack, very off-grid, known for their archaic practices- Mingyu had even heard a horror story about one alpha eating his own male offspring, although, Mingyu had always thought that was just a spin on the Greek/Roman myths, made to scare betas about the dangers of being an alpha. 

You nod, looking down at the ground.

A muscle in Seungcheol’s jaw feathers. “You can stay,” he says gruffly. “Mingyu,” the beta steps forward, “we don’t have any extra cabins, and I don’t trust anyone other than you to take care of her. You can do this for me, right?”

“Of course,” Mingyu nods, already running through his mind what possible things he could cook to warm you up. 

Seungcheol begins to head back to his own home, but then he stops, looking back. “If Wonwoo has a problem with sharing his cabin, tell him to move in with Hansol and Seungkwan until I sort out sleeping arrangements. Shouldn’t take more than a couple of days.”

“Got it,” Mingyu nods enthusiastically, watching his alpha depart.

As soon as Seungcheol’s cabin door is closed, Mingyu’s body kicks into high gear. He wants to rush to you, but at the same time, he wants to warm you up, so he opts for running to his deck, grabbing his discarded tea before jogging back to you.

“Here,” he says, kneeling down to hand the mug to you. “It’s hot, drink it, and I’ll help you inside.”

You accept the cup with shaky fingers.

Mingyu gives you a moment to take a sip, then he reaches for you, grabbing your forearm and pulling you to your feet-

The flannel covering your naked body slips off your shoulder, and Mingyu catches a slight glimpse of your breasts before you’re tugging the fabric back around yourself. The beta can feel his skin heating, and he looks away, swallowing thickly. “Come on,” he says again, “I don’t want you to catch a cold.”

“Sweet beta,” you laugh, leaning on him. “Don’t you know us alphas don’t get sick so easily?”

It’s so odd for him to be around a female alpha. He’s used to taking care of women- his beta little sisters who he’d grown up with, his alpha’s beta wife- he doesn’t know to handle you, not really, and he has no clue what to say as he helps you toward the cabin.

The door opens before you even get to the steps, and Mingyu’s cabin mate, Wonwoo, is leaning in the door frame. 

“I don’t think this is a good idea,” he states.

“Well, you heard what Cheol said,” Mingyu insists, helping you up the stairs. “If you don’t like it, you can move in with Hansol and Seungkwan.” 

“Where’s she even going to sleep?” Wonwoo asks, moving to the side so you and Mingyu can pass.

“My room,” Mingyu states. “She can have my room.”

“You? On the couch?” Wonwoo scoffs. “Good luck with that.”

“What’s your problem?” you say finally, looking Wonwoo up and down. 

He meets your gaze. “In my opinion, we already have two too many alphas in this pack.”

“Well It’s not up to you,” you insist.

“You’re right about that, but it doesn’t mean I have to be happy about it,” Wonwoo growls darkly, narrowing his eyes. 

“Wonwoo, please-” Mingyu groans, reaching out to grab his friend’s forearm. “Can you go grab her some clothes from my room, I have to start making some food for her, she’s cold-”

“She’s fine,” Wonwoo rolls his eyes.

“Wonwoo, please,” Mingyu repeats, and the other wolf finally lumbers off. “Look,” he says, turning to you again, “the bathroom is through that door right there. The water isn’t that hot, but it will be enough to warm you up while I get some ramen going-”

“I’m used to cold water,” you cut him off, handing your mug of tea to him. “I’m sure even warm would be better than I’ve had recently.”

Mingyu blinks at you. He doesn’t know what to say as you walk away from him, entering the bathroom and closing the door behind you. The sound of water thrums to life a moment later and Mingyu finally shakes himself out of his daze. 

Wonwoo returns holding a pair of sweats and a hoodie, he places them on the floor outside the bathroom door before joining Mingyu in the kitchen.

“This isn’t a good idea,” Wonwoo says quietly.

“She needs our help.”

“It shouldn’t be us,” Wonwoo points out. “It should be Jihoon or Soonyoung.”

“You sound like you’re trying to marry her off to one of them-” Mingyu’s nose scrunches with distaste. “Besides, if we did that, and they did get together, that would be a double alpha pairing and it would be very dangerous for Seungcheol.”

“So dangerous, in fact, Seungcheol might kick them out, or we might be forced to put them down. Two birds, one stone.”

Mingyu freezes, heart thumping wildly in his chest. He slowly turns to his best friend. “Wonwoo… I think you should leave.”

“You want me to leave?” Wonwoo asks in shock.

“I don’t think it’s good for you to be here right now.” Mingyu can’t believe he’s saying any of this- Wonwoo is his best friend- but… Wonwoo’s never acted this way before. Swallowing thickly, Mingyu squares his chest, straightening to his full height while he looks down at his friend. “Yeah, I think you should go to Hansol and Seungkwan’s cabin until we get this housing arrangement sorted out.”

“Seriously?” Wonwoo scoffs, but Mingyu doesn’t back down, doesn’t adjust his stance an inch. He stays steady, and after a few seconds, Wonwoo crumbles. “Fine. have it your way. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you when this whole thing ends badly.”

Wonwoo doesn’t even bother packing a bag, he simply grabs his jacket off the couch and heads to the door, slamming it loudly behind him. 

Mingyu finally lets out a breath, deflating, and then, he goes back to getting water boiled for ramen.

You listen in on the argument in the kitchen. These beta wolves don’t seem to be aware of how good a female alpha’s senses can be. You’re even more sensitive than males, it’s a natural adaptation to help mothers be better suited to take care of their young, and here you are, using it to eavesdrop on two stupid betas.

Well, the big one doesn’t seem so stupid. He seems kind of nice actually. But his friend? A dickhead.

You smile when you hear the front door slam, and you listen to the wolf lumber down the stairs, then the crunch of gravel as he walks away. 

This will be a much easier living arrangement for you. Having one beta male around and in your space is going to be odd, but to have two would have been nearly too much for you. Their scent is everywhere, and when you get out of the shower, you find yourself staring down two towels. 

You opt for the one that smells like the bigger wolf, and use it to dry off, trying to get used to his scent. 

You’d heard one of them set clothes down outside the bathroom door, and you unlock it, opening it a sliver to peer out. You can hear the big wolf whistling in the kitchen while he cooks, and you quickly snatch the clothing into the bathroom, locking the door again.

Your pack has stayed in a few structures before, but many of them were hand built cabins deep in the wilderness. Running water - especially hot running water - is a luxury you’re not used to. When you wipe the steam off the mirror, assessing yourself through the reflective glass, you’re almost shocked to see how good you look.

You’d washed the dirt off your body- it’s been so long since you looked in a proper mirror, and you realize you even look pretty. 

You shrug the hoodie and sweatpants on, marveling at how large they are on your much smaller form. They smell like the large wolf, everything does. 

Standing in the bathroom, you do your best to psych yourself up. You’re an alpha for goodness sake- you don’t need to be afraid. Especially not when the wolf in the other room seems to be a complete softy- you can’t believe he’d given you tea and even his flannel- yeah, he seems nice, but you’ve not met many nice men in your life.

You exit the bathroom, tiptoeing to the kitchen. The wolf must be very preoccupied with his cooking because he doesn’t even look up. He’s focused on the ginger he’s grating, and the smell of the root mixes with the minced garlic already frying in a pot. It’s the first scent that’s not wolfish, and it makes your mouth begin to water as you watch.

“Hi,” you say finally.

The six-foot-two man jumps in shock.

He might just be the cutest thing you’ve ever seen, he even clutches his chest.

“Hi,” he sighs.

“I’m y/n.”

He studies you. “Mingyu,” and then, he reaches out a hand.

You look down at his hand, and after a moment, you give it a small shake. 

“Uh…” he licks his lips, “welcome to the pack I guess.”

“Thank you,” you nod, moving closer to look down at the garlic he’s cooking. You find there’s also green onions, and he adds the ginger while you watch. “Are you the pack chef?”

“Something like that,” Mingyu laughs. “I’m Seungcheol’s right-hand man. I do anything he needs, including cooking for new pack members it seems.”

“He didn’t tell you to do this,” you note.

“Okay, maybe I wanted to do this. Seungcheol has too much on his plate, he would have reminded me to cook for you if it had crossed his mind.”

You nod. “His mate is very pregnant. Must be hard for him.” 

“Do you really have midwife skills?” Mingyu asks.

You nod again. “I live deep in the forest, it’s important for all the women to be part of the birthing process, including alphas.”

“Luckily we have a hospital half an hour away.”

“You can’t always make it to a hospital,” you point out. “Alpha deliveries can be sudden, and dangerous. If I was making suggestions to your alpha, I’d tell him to ask any and all female pack relatives to come and stay for a little while. If he has a mother, or sisters, or aunts, or cousins-”

“You really think that’s necessary?” Mingyu blinks at you, stirring the pot of golden aromatics while adding boiling water.

“I do,” you admit. “I’ve heard you’re an all male pack, except for the alpha’s mate, and I’d hoped there would be a few more women around-”

“A few of us have had girlfriends in the past, but nothing that stuck. It can be hard for them to deal with a pack that has three alphas,” Mingyu tells you, frowning.

“Four,” you correct. “It might be easier now that I’m here. I’ve always had good relationships with female pack members. I wouldn’t have been able to escape my last pack without them.”

“If you could help us find some female wolves to join, I’m sure all the guys here would be really grateful.”

“Including that buddy of yours?” you almost laugh. “What is it he said? He wants me to get with another alpha so you can take me out and kill two birds with one stone?”

“He didn’t-” Mingyu stammers.

“Tell me, of your two other alphas, which one do you have more issues with?” you ask, looking Mingyu up and down.

The large wolf sighs. “Soonyoung has been causing trouble lately.”

“Yeah? How’s that?” 

“He was sort of hitting on Seungcheol’s mate for a while- looking at her a lot and stuff-” Mingyu adds the ramen to the pot, and you note how uncomfortable this is making him. He must not like confrontation.

Who would have thought, an alpha’s right-hand muscle man who doesn’t like fights.

“Are they going to have problems with me being here?” you ask, cocking your head to the side.

“I mean- if anything, uh…” Mingyu swallows thickly, and you watch his adam’s apple bob with effort, “they might hit on you.”

“But as you said to that other guy earlier, if I don’t want to be a danger to Seungcheol, it would be wise for me to stay away from them.” You look down at the boiling ramen. “That was a smart observation from you.”

“Thanks?” He rubs the back of his neck. 

“After dinner, I’ll need to sleep,” you tell him. “I ran all day to get here. But I can’t rest in your friend’s room.”

“You can have my room,” Mingyu is quick to assure you. “It’s cleaner than his anyways.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.” The wolf opens a cabinet, pulling out a bowl. He spoons it full of ramen and hands it to you.

“Aren’t you eating?” you ask.

“No,” he shakes his head, “this is for you. Something tells me you’ll want to eat all of it, and I had dinner an hour ago.”

He’s right. Ten minutes later you’ve eaten all the ramen. 

Your body is warm, for the first time in what feels like ages. When you head into Mingyu’s bedroom, and slowly lay down on his soft bed, the mattress makes you groan. You’ve been sleeping on hides on the forest floor for months now- 

Before you know it, you’re drifting off to sleep.

You wake up to sunlight streaming through the window, and for the first time in a long time, you simply allow yourself to bask in it. You curl up against Mingyu’s pillow, breathing in his scent. The big beta obviously wears cologne, something spicy, but you can smell cedar and notes of pine too. He’s a woodsy guy, and it’s familiar to you.

Sitting up, you stretch your arms above your head, groaning softly at the feeling in your muscles. This is what freedom is, and you can’t believe you’ve finally found it.

Making your way to Mingyu’s closet, you find a red and black flannel, and you slip it on, enjoying the softness of it. Then, you grab a pair of boxers. 

When you’d left your pack, you hadn’t been able to take anything, and in wolf form, not even clothes made the journey here with you. All you have right now is mens underwear, and they’re large around your hips, but they’ll do better than walking around with nothing.

The wood floorboards creek as you tiptoe to the door, opening it to peer into the room beyond. 

You can hear Mingyu’s soft snores coming from his friend’s room. When you make your way to the front door, it squeaks on its hinges, and the soft sleeping sounds come to halt. Then, there are footfalls, and Mingyu peers out of his friend’s room, blinking at you as he rubs his eyes with one hand.

“You’re awake,” he says.

“Early riser,” you nod, taking in his bare chest and the pair of sweatpants that are hanging dangerously low on his hips. “I was going to go look around.”

“Okay,” Mingyu sighs, stretching his arms above his head and letting out a groan. “Give me a second and I’ll come with you.”

“You can go back to sleep,” you suggest.

“Nah, you shouldn’t be walking around alone.”

“I’m not in any danger.” You know how to deal with male alphas if you come across either of the two that are bound to be lurking around outside.

“I’m not worried about you,” Mingyu says, disappearing into his friend’s room. “Worried about the other guys.”

You crack a smile. “Yeah? And why’s that?”

“Because flannels look good on you,” Mingyu returns, torso covered in a black vneck, “and I doubt many of the pack know there’s a new alpha yet. Not sure how they’ll react.”

You suppose he has a point, and you stay quiet as he approaches you, slipping his feet into a pair of shoes by the door. Then he looks down. “Give me a sec, I’m pretty sure Cheol’s mate has a similar size foot to you, I’ll grab you some flip flops.”

“I can go barefoot,” you insist.

“You are a wild thing, aren’t you?” Mingyu chuckles, running a hand through his messy hair. “Just wait here, please.” 

He shifts past you, exiting the cabin. Instead of staying inside, you follow, stopping on the deck while he jogs to the small house a hundred feet away. You watch him as he kneels, shifting through some shoes before finding a pair, and then he walks back to you, squinting in the morning sun. 

“Here,” he says, holding them out, “give these a try.” 

You slip the flip-flops on, nodding. “They work.”

“Good,” Mingyu yawns. “Come on, I’ll show you around.”

You follow him down the steps, enjoying his lumbering walk. He’s so big- and his strides are longer than yours, but he’s moving slowly, which makes it easy for you to keep up. 

“So this is our pack compound,” he explains, still sounding a bit groggy. “Seungcheol and his mate live in that cabin, and then you’ve met me and Wonwoo-” so his bitchy friend does have a name. “There are seven cabins in total and I’ll walk you through them, we can see who’s awake.”

“Your pack doesn’t wake up at dawn?” 

“Nah, we’ve got a lot of guys who sleep in,” Mingyu says, and from the way he’s still yawning, you can tell he’s not used to being up this early. 

You’ve always liked mornings. Your pack is the type to be up and bustling about, but you think you could get used to the quiet of this place. Birds are singing in the trees, and the dew on the grass from last night’s rain is tickling past your feet as you walk through the area.

“This cabin belongs to Hansol and Seungkwan,” Mingyu explains, pointing at the next lodging you walk past. “They’re good guys, Hansol especially. When we joined all three packs, Hansol and Wonwoo were with me and Cheol.”

“So you’re very close then,” you nod, taking in the cabin with its dark windows. It’s clear the inhabitants are still asleep.

“Yeah, Hansol’s a friend,” Mingyu nods. “He’ll like you.”

“You think so?”

“Hansol gets along with everyone,” Mingyu says factually. 

The next cabin is a short distance away, but unlike the last one, this one has signs of life. There’s even a man sitting on the front steps, and he stands as you approach. 

He’s small in stature, but with the downwind sending his scent your way, you can tell immediately that he must be one of the other two alphas. He certainly holds himself like a man in charge, and you meet his gaze straight on. 

“Jihoon,” Mingyu greets, coming to a stop a few feet in front of the stairs leading to the alpha. 

“What’s going on?” Jihoon asks, scanning your form.

“We got a new member of the pack yesterday,” Mingyu explains. “This is y/n.”

The man scrunches his nose, eyes narrowing. “She’s an alpha.”

“From the Arcadia pack,” Mingyu nods, and a flash of recognition flutters over Jihoon’s features.

“Seungcheol is okay with this?” Jihoon asks.

“I wouldn’t be showing her around if he wasn’t,” Mingyu says, and there’s a firmness in his voice. “She’s going to help with midwife stuff.”

“Oh,” Jihoon’s head cocks to the side slightly. “That’s good to hear.”

“Is Seokmin awake?” Mingyu questions, and you both look past the alpha to see if his roommate is up.

“He’s never awake this early,” Jihoon scoffs.

“Well,” Mingyu turns to you, “guess you’ll meet him later.”

“Are you giving her a full tour?” Jihoon asks, eyes still lingering on your form.

“Uh huh,” Mingyu runs a hand through his hair, yawning loudly. 

“Why isn’t Seungcheol doing it?”

Mingyu lets out a small laugh. “We both know Seungcheol has bigger things on his plate.”

“Bigger than introducing a new alpha female to the pack?” Jihoon cracks a smile. “I find that hard to believe.”

“You don’t have to believe it,” Mingyu sighs. 

It’s interesting how he’s interacting with the alpha in front of him. You’d wondered what the dynamic might be like- but it appears that Mingyu truly only has loyalty to Seungcheol. As the head alpha, this is the way it should be.

Jihoon doesn’t say anything else, and Mingyu’s gentle touch on the small of your back prompts you to continue your tour.

“He’s cranky in the morning,” Mingyu tells you under his breath.

“And he can probably hear you,” you note, looking over your shoulder at the scowling alpha.

“My bad,” Mingyu says, but from the smile on his face, you know he doesn’t really care. 

The cabins are all spaced nicely, giving earshot privacy but still mostly visible to each other as you continue down the dirt path that connects them. 

The next cabin has not one, but two wolves sitting on its front porch, and they both stand like Jihoon had, looking at you curiously.

“What did you bring for us today, Gyu?” one of them asks while the other practically eye fucks you over his bowl of cereal.

“This is y/n, she’s joining the pack,” Mingyu explains. 

“Really?” The prettier of the two bounds down the stairs, grinning. “Since when?”

“Last night.”

“I’m Jeonghan,” the wolf holds out a hand to you. “It’s lovely to finally meet an alpha female, especially one as gorgeous as you.”

The man still standing on the stairs lets out a loud scoff, and then he’s setting down his cereal to approach. “Don’t pay attention to him,” he says, “Jeonghan’s a flirt.”

“As if you’re any better, Joshua,” Jeonghan rolls his eyes.

“I am better,” Joshua grins, holding out his own hand to you. “In every way.”

You don’t enjoy the way he looks you up and down again, eyes taking their time to assess your outfit. You’re very aware of the fact you’re not wearing a bra, and when Joshua releases your hand, you’re quick to cross your arms over your chest.

“Where’s she staying?” Jeonghan asks, addressing Mingyu.

“With me for now, but Cheol’s gonna work out a sleeping arrangement.” Mingyu’s hand finds the small of your back, his touch as light as a feather. “We should keep going with the tour.”

“Need company?” Joshua questions.

“We’re good,” you say firmly. 

With a nod goodbye, Mingyu and you head off again. 

“Are they all like this?” you ask.

“What do you mean?”

You let out a small laugh. “Horrible with women?” 

“It’s a pack trait,” Mingyu jokes.

“You’re not so bad,” you tell him, and when you sneak a glance at the beta, you notice his skin is flushed.

He’s so cute you want to just eat him up.

“I uh…” Mingyu coughs, “that’s debatable.”

“I’m telling you you’re not bad with women, and I’m an alpha, which means you have to listen to me.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Mingyu chuckles.

“Not ma’am,” you correct him. “Yes, alpha.” 

“Yes, alpha,” he says, not missing a beat. 

“That wasn’t so hard, was it, big guy?”

He lets out a small “shit” under his breath, and you realize you enjoy toying with him. 

“So anyways,” he clears his throat, “this next cabin is Minghao and Jun, but they’re asleep-”

“Over half the compound is asleep,” you note. “Who’s protecting your boundaries?”

“No one?” Mingyu looks around. “I’m not sure what you’re used to from your last pack, but closer to the city, boundaries rarely get encroached on.”

“Oh, so I pulled a big no-no by just showing up, huh?”

“It was unusual, that’s for sure,” Mingyu smiles. 

“My bad.”

The beta at your side only grins as you walk past another dark cabin. You don’t mind not talking, as it gives you a chance to listen to the sounds of the compound. More birds are singing now, and trees rustle with small wildlife. You watch two squirrels chasing each other, and the familiar sight makes you smile.

Yeah, despite the gang of clueless men, you could definitely get used to this place.

“So this last cabin belongs to Soonyoung and Dino-” Mingyu begins to say, and as the words leave his mouth, the lodging’s front door is thrown open.

A white-haired alpha struts out, his gaze fixed on you. 

You stop in your tracks assessing his form for signs of aggression-

While he holds his head high, and walks like an alpha, the man in front of you is at least attempting open body language. He smiles, flashing his canines. “I knew I smelt something sweet,” he says loudly, thudding down the front steps and approaching.

So this must be the Soonyoung that Mingyu had mentioned. The alpha causing trouble.

He definitely looks like a bit of a flirt, and his eyes scan you up and down as the other wolves had. “Let me guess,” Soonyoung says, “Arcadia pack.”

“How did you-”

“Sweetheart, there aren’t many alpha females around these parts. It’s not rocket science.” Soonyoung comes to a stop in front of you. “The real question is, why are you here?”

“She left her old pack,” Mingyu answers for you. “She’s with us now.”

“Trouble in wilderness paradise, huh?” Soonyoung’s grin widens. “Their loss, our gain.”

“What are you doing awake this early?” Mingyu asks, and you see him stiffening beside you.

“I told you, I smelt something sweet.” The alpha is yet to take his eyes off of you, and you meet his gaze straight on, like a challenge. 

“And I smell dog, but I’m guessing that’s you,” you say calmly.

Soonyoung lets out a bark of a laugh. “Damn, baby, you’ve got a mouth on you.”

“Enough of the babys and sweethearts,” you tell him. “My name is y/n.”

“Cute name,” Soonyoung says, but the compliment does nothing for you.

“Mingyu, I think my tour is done,” you sigh, looking to the beta at your side. 

“What? But you just started.” Soonyoung whines, and the tone of his voice grinds your nerves. 

“I’ve seen enough,” you say smoothly. 

“Princess, you haven’t seen anything yet,” Soonyoung assures you. 

A growl bubbles up in your throat, and you turn your icy gaze back to the alpha. “Nothing impressive, that’s for sure. And I doubt you have anything to show me that could change my mind.”

Soonyoung only smiles wider. “I like your fire.”

“Good for you.” You reach out, grabbing Mingyu’s forearm. “We’re leaving.”

“Aw, don’t be like that,” the alpha clicks his tongue. “You’re part of the pack now, it’s time to make friends.”

“Something tells me you’re not looking for any more friends,” you say coldly. “If you’re really that bored, go bug your housemate.”

“Dino’s not anywhere near as pretty as you, and he doesn’t talk back, so it’s not as fun.”

“I’m not here to entertain you.” You’re getting tired of this alpha already.

“Shame,” Soonyoung tilts his head to the side. “Something tells me you’ll be very entertaining.”

“She said we’re leaving,” Mingyu states, and it’s as stern as you’ve heard him be with anyone, let alone an alpha. 

“Well,” Soonyoung sighs, “I guess I’ll be seeing you around.”

You feel the need to give him a snarky response, but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction, so instead, you turn on your heel, heading back the way you came with Mingyu scrambling to follow.

You can feel Soonyoung’s eyes on you, and it sets your teeth on edge. If there’s one thing you hate in this world, it’s presumptuous alphas.

“Sorry about him,” Mingyu apologizes quietly.

“It’s not your fault,” you assure Mingyu, knowing that he has no say over Soonyoung’s behaviour.

“I want to make it up to you,” the beta insists.

“Yeah?” you laugh. “And how are you going to do that?”

“You need clothes,” Mingyu says. “Let me take you to the city, and we can get you something to wear.”

“You know what?” you take a deep breath. “I think that might be the best idea you’ve had all day.”

Mingyu tries his best not to stare at you. He keeps his gaze fixed on the road the entire drive to town, even as you stick your head out the window and let out a soft sigh as you enjoy the air moving over your skin. He fights the need to ask you questions about yourself, about the life you had in the Arcadia pack, but there’s so much he wants to know.

He tries to be nonchalant as you head into an underwear store, but he can feel his ears burning as he lumbers through the thongs and bras. “I should really wait outside,” he says meekly, but you ignore him, grabbing his hand to tug him along as you pick out panties.

“I need your opinion,” you tell him, holding up two thongs, “Silk or lace?”

Mingyu lets out a deep sigh, eyes shifting to the simple seamless set. They’re more practical for the life the pack lives, and less devastating if they get tort to shreds during an impromptu wolf transformation.

“Really?” you ask, reading his gaze. You hold the red thong up, assessing it. “You really are a simple kind of guy, aren’t you?”

“Are you calling me stupid?”

“No,” you grin. “I just don’t know what I expected from a guy who wears flannel and jeans.”

“You should get what you want,” Mingyu says softly. “You’re the alpha, I’m just a beta. How should I know what you want?”

“Maybe I’ll have to try them all on,” you suggest. 

He feels his throat constrict, and he swallows thickly, giving a quick nod. “Yeah, okay.”

You fill a whole basket with undergarments, and Mingyu feels his heart thundering louder in his chest as you make your way to the change room.

“Oh,” the worker there says when you approach, looking Mingyu up and down, “Men aren’t allowed in the changeroom.”

“How am I supposed to know what he likes if he can’t come in?” you counter.

“I’m sorry ma’am-” the poor worker looks as uncomfortable as Mingyu feels.

“It’s okay,” he assures you. “I’ll just wait out here. In fact, I have an errand to run. You can try all this stuff on and I’ll be back in ten or fifteen.”

He hates the way you frown at the suggestion, but you give in with a sigh. 

Mingyu watches you disappear into the changeroom, and the moment you’re gone, he all but bolts from the store. 

Once outside, he takes a deep breath, running a hand through his hair. He has to keep his hormones in check- but there’s a need growing in the pit of his stomach, and he’s not sure he can ignore it, especially not if you give him a whole modeling show of underwear-

God, he’s in big trouble.

“You were gone for twenty minutes,” you say when Mingyu shows up at the lingerie store.

“Yeah, well, it took longer than I thought it would,” the beta sighs, not meeting your eyes.

“What were you even doing?” you press.

“Had to get you a phone,” Mingyu explains, pulling the device out of his pocket. “But it wasn’t just the phone, the sales guy had to talk to me about data plans, and coverage and I-” He shakes his head. “Here, just take it.” 

You look down at the cell, then back up to him. “Why do I need a phone?”

“So you can call people?” he suggests. 

You cock your head to the side. When you’d lived in the wilderness, there was never a need for a phone, let alone the service to make one useful. “Who am I going to call?” 

“Me?” Mingyu coughs awkwardly. “The pack?”

“Fine, I’ll take it,” you concede, grabbing the phone and holding it to your chest. “But only because you’ll have my number. I’m not giving it to the others.”

“Cheol will need it,” Mingyu points out.

“Fine, he can have it too,” you sigh. 

“Did you find some stuff to buy?” the beta asks, looking down at the basket slung over your arm.

“Yup,” you hold up a few pairs of panties. You’d mostly chosen the simple ones, but there are a few racier designs too. “Should we go to the checkout?”

“Yeah,” Mingyu nods, following you to the till. 

When the worker checks all your items through, the cost is pretty high, and you blink in shock at how expensive things like this can be. Mingyu pulls out a card, and pays without a second thought.

He even takes the bag of items, holding it tightly in a hand as you head out of the store.

“Tell Cheol thank you for buying all of this,” you say, immediately assuming Mingyu’s using a pack credit card. Your last living arrangement had had a similar setup, and it’s all you know.

“Oh, uh… Cheol didn’t pay for this,” Mingyu says awkwardly. “I did.”

“You did?” you blink. “The head alpha doesn’t control all the money?”

“No,” Mingyu shakes his head. “We all have jobs and our own banking situations.”

“You have jobs?” 

“Well, Cheol comes from money, so he’s connected to a family business, but most of us do labour, construction, that sort of thing,” Mingyu explains.

“Do I have to get a job?” you ask.

“Sometime down the line,” Mingyu responds. “But for now, I think you should just get used to not being in the forest all the time. You don’t have to pay rent or anything to live on the compound, but if you want to go into town or buy clothes, you’ll probably have to get a job to finance that.”

“Are you sure you can’t just buy things for me?” you tease, poking at Mingyu’s side.

You enjoy the way he swallows, and looks to actually be considering your request. “For now I can,” he says finally.

“I’ll find a job,” you assure him. “I’ve got no references or past experience, but I have things I can do.”

“Yeah? Like what?”

“Well, I’m pretty good at building things,” you tell him. “My old pack moved around a lot, but when we found places we liked, we could build pretty good cabins out of what was available. They’re not like the cabins you have, but… they’re something.”

“For some reason, I can’t picture you building yourself a cabin.”

“Well,” you consider it for a moment, “let me talk to Cheol, and maybe you’ll get to see me in action yourself.”

Mingyu lets out a laugh. “Now that’s something I’d definitely like to watch.”

It’s the evening of your second day with the pack when Seungcheol arrives at your cabin door. “Can I talk to you for a sec?” he asks.

“Of course.” You set down the bowl of soup Mingyu had cooked for you, grabbing one of Mingyu’s flannels to put on as you follow the alpha outside. 

He takes you into the field, and the two of you turn to look back at the cabins. “So, I talked to my mom earlier,” Seungcheol says. “She agrees with you about having a few more females come through the compound to help with the birth.”

“That’s good news,” you nod.

“She’s been trying to talk me into it for a while, but, when you showed up and said the same thing- I guess it convinced me,” Seungcheol sighs. “Anyways, a handful of my relatives will be arriving tomorrow. We don’t have cabins for them, so they’ll be bringing RV’s, parking in this field and staying until my mate has our baby. Should be any day now, she’s been having pains recently.”

“I’m sorry to hear about your wife,” you nod sympathetically. You’d watched your own mother go through rough final trimesters, and you can’t imagine what it’s like for a woman without other females around. 

Seungcheol seems like a put together guy, but men with ego can sometimes forget that women can provide things for each other that they can’t. 

“Anyways,” Seungcheol looks at you, “there will be an extra bed or two in some of the RV’s. it’s not a long term solution, but I was thinking you might prefer that over staying with Mingyu.”

“Mingyu’s not so bad.”

“Wonwoo wants his bed back,” Seungcheol smiles. 

“Oh, right,” you nod, gaze shifting to the grass at your feet. “Yeah, I can stay in an RV.”

“I was thinking of asking my mom if we could borrow one, or maybe even buy one. The compound needs more cabins, but those take time, and an RV feels like an easy option in the meantime… Mingyu mentioned you have some experience building structures?”

“I do,” you confirm. 

“How would you feel about being part of the build process?” Seungcheol asks.

“I’d love that,” you say honestly. 

“Usually builds are a pack project,” he explains. “A few of the guys can get a cabin up in month or two- you’d be working with them. Think you can take orders?”

“Depends who’s ordering.”

“Mingyu and Jeonghan usually take care of project plans and direction.” 

“That sounds doable.” 

“Good, then it’s settled.” Seungcheol nods to himself. “The cabin designs we use are for two bedrooms, so you wouldn’t have one to yourself. We’ve been thinking of pack expansion for a while, and with you here, it might be easier to get a female beta to join.”

“I’m really surprised your mate is the only female here,” you admit. “With thirteen male wolves, I would have thought at least a few would have partners.”

“What can I say?” Seungcheol shrugs. “Our pack is a boys club.”

“That’s an understatement.” 

“I heard Soonyoung was giving you trouble.”

You laugh. “Mingyu tells you everything, doesn’t he?” 

“He’s loyal,” Seungcheol nods. “He said you put Soonyoung in his place.”

“I tried, but something tells me Soonyoung didn’t get the message,” you sigh. The alpha has tried to talk to you repeatedly in the short time you’ve been here, and it’s led to you putting yourself practically under cabin house arrest in a bid to avoid him. 

“You still mean what you said about backing me up right? I shouldn’t be worried about you making an alliance with Jihoon or Soonyoung?”

“I’m with you, a hundred percent,” you tell him firmly. 

“That’s good to hear,” Seungcheol admits. “It’s nice to have you in my corner.”

“It’s nice to be in a good alpha’s corner. From what I’ve seen of you, you seem like the kind of guy to follow.”

The alpha rubs the back of his neck, letting out a small laugh. “I appreciate that. Maybe you can convince a few of my cousins to join in when they come, they’ve been pretty adamant about not wanting to have anything to do with me.”

“Well, they’re coming to help your wife give birth, so that’s a step in the right direction,” you point out. 

“I wish I could be as optimistic as you,” Seungcheol sighs. “Anyways, thanks for the chat. I’m glad you found your way to us.”

It feels nice to have some estrogen amongst all the testosterone in the compound. When the women arrive in their RV’s it’s the first time you feel like you can join the pack for lunch. Picnic tables are pulled up into the field, and fold up chairs are placed around a fire where Seungcheol’s mother roasts meat. 

She wasn’t a born alpha, but she’s an alpha now, and there’s a calm peace that comes with having a matriarch around.

With her, are two of Seungcheol’s aunts, and four cousins. When these seven women combine with you and Seungcheol’s mate, that means there are now nine women puttering about. You’re still outnumbered with men by four, but it feels much closer to even. 

One of Seungcheol’s cousins is very focused on his wife, and she goes into his cabin and doesn’t come out. Two of the others seem to be getting to know Joshua and Jeonghan, which feels like an interesting choice to you. The last cousin, however, is clear that her intentions are set on Mingyu. She follows him around like a lost puppy, and the sight makes you sick to your stomach while you gnaw on your food.

“Look at those two,” Soonyoung says, falling into the chair next to yours. “They’re cute, don’t you think?” 

“Sure, cute.” Your voice is near a growl.

“She’s been into him for years, you know.” The alpha taps his fingers on the armrest of his chair. “Wanted to move here and everything.”

“Then why didn’t she?” You can’t believe you’re humouring him by entertaining this conversation, but you itch to know the gossip he has. Although, you’re not entirely sure you can trust a word coming out of his mouth.

“She was younger then, but now she’s grown.” 

She’s definitely grown, and her low neckline shirt shows just how well she’s grown. 

“Seungcheol would love for her to join the pack,” Soonyoung continues.

“Then maybe she should,” you spit, standing. You’re tired of this, tired of watching little miss Choi Seona hang onto Mingyu’s every word, standing as close to him as possible.

“Where are you going?” the alpha asks.

“For a run,” you say, already tearing off your hoodie.

“Oooh, need company?” 

“No,” you respond firmly. “Don’t you dare follow me.”

If he does, he’ll get a full view of you stripping naked in the field behind your cabin before you take off, and if Soonyoung sees you nude, you might just have to kill him.

Luckily, no one follows you, and you’re able to slip out of your clothes unnoticed, your skin tearing as you transform into a wolf and bolt into the trees.

You only arrive back at the compound after the sun has set, and instead of heading to the RV, you push through Mingyu’s cabin door. 

Wonwoo is sitting on the couch, and he blinks at you. “What are you doing here?”

“Need to use your shower,” you grumble, hardly looking at Mingyu who is standing in the kitchen stirring a pot of ramen.

“The RV has a shower,” Wonwoo says, and you know he’s not really trying to be helpful. 

“I’m using your shower,” you say, firmly this time, and when you reach the bathroom, you slam the door behind you, locking it.

It’s bad enough that you have to stay in an RV with three of Seungcheol’s cousins, sharing a shower with them might be too much. You hope that by the time you get there, the girls are going to sleep, and you can skip any talks about the day. You have nothing to say to Seona.

The hot shower gives you peace. Your mind has been reeling all day, and it’s nice to finally just relax, letting the water wash over you. For some stupid reason, you hadn’t considered the idea that one of the women coming to the compound would like Mingyu, and you realize now that it had been a major oversight on your part.

Of course at least one of the girls likes Mingyu- what’s not to like? 

He’s big and handsome and kind and caring- 

To make matters worse, the two of them have a history, or so Soonyoung says. 

You wonder if Mingyu has feelings for Seona. You wonder how deep the feelings are.

Pushing the thought from your mind, you finish your shower, taking your time to dry off and slip on your clothes. You’d chosen the panties Mingyu liked in the hopes that one day he might see them- but now, you think that day might not ever come… not of Seona has anything to say about it.

When you exit the bathroom, Mingyu is standing there waiting for you, and Wonwoo is nowhere to be seen.

“Hey, you okay?” he asks, looking at you with concern.

“Of course,” you say curtly. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“It’s just… you disappeared at lunch, and you just got back- it’s been hours-”

“Aw, did you miss me, big guy?” you tease, forcing a smile. “That’s cute.”

“I was worried about our deer population,” Mingyu says, and when the side of his mouth quirks up slightly, you realize he’s joking.

“I didn’t kill anything,” you admit. “Just needed to stretch my legs.”

“Do they feel good now?” He looks down at your thighs, bare in the shorts you’re wearing.

“Uh huh,” you nod. “I’m ready to pass out.”

“First night in the RV,” Mingyu muses. “Excited for girl time?”

“No.” 

He laughs. “I didn’t think you would be.”

“Do I not seem like a girls girl kind of girl?” 

“Not really,” he cocks his head. “The good news is they won’t be staying long. Seungcheol’s mom said his mate is really close to giving birth. It’s lucky they arrived when they did. Lucky you convinced Cheol to let them come.”

“I guess we’re all just lucky this week,” you sigh. 

“Yeah…” he looks at you awkwardly, “we are. Or at least… I’ve been feeling lucky lately.”

“Must be nice having a handful of available females around,” you snap, “gives you your pick of the litter.”

“That’s not-” Mingyu’s voice catches. “That’s not what I mean.”

“Sure it wasn’t. Look, I’m tired, I should go.”

“You can take the couch if you want- or my bed, I could have the couch-”

“Wonwoo would hate me more than he already does if I did that,” you sigh. “But thanks for the offer.” 

Mingyu sends you a small smile, and watches you go. As you exit the cabin, he calls out “Goodnight,” and you can’t bring yourself to say it back.

You stomp toward the RV. As you approach, you hear giggles, and you stop, listening by the window. 

“I don’t know guys,” Seona’s voice makes you scowl, “I just think Mingyu is really sweet.”

“He was with you all day,” one of her cousins agrees. “And wasn’t he your first kiss?”

“Shhh! We’re not supposed to talk about that!” Seona whispers, but you can tell the answer is affirmative.

So there is something between Seona and Mingyu. 

Soonyoung hadn’t been lying. 

“I bet he likes you too,” the third cousin muses. 

“He acts like he does,” the other agrees.

You’ve heard enough. 

You can’t stay in the RV with them. Turning, you head back into the woods.

Mingyu wakes up with excitement coursing through his veins, and it takes a moment for him to remember you’re not in the other room. The morning sun is shining through his window as he pulls on his clothes- it’s funny how only a few days with you has reset his internal clock.

He exits his cabin quietly, not wanting to wake Wonwoo, who has been particularly grumpy since you arrived. Mingyu can’t imagine why though- it’s not like his friend has given you a chance, and he thinks Wonwoo will like you once he puts some effort into getting to know you, the way he has. 

With his hands in his pockets, Mingyu heads to the RV, and he’s pleased to find the door open. He can hear a feminine hustle and bustle, and the smell of coffee makes him smile. “Knock, knock,” he calls softly, peaking his head into the living space.

“Mingyu!” Seona exclaims, rushing over. “How did you sleep?”

“I slept alright,” he nods, scanning the interior in search of you.

“Can I grab you some coffee? I just made a fresh batch, and I make the best in the whole pack.”

“Uh… no thanks,” Mingyu offers her a small smile. “Is y/n around?”

“Nope,” Seona shakes her head. “She never came in last night. We all assumed she was sleeping in one of the cabins.” 

“One of the cabins?” Mingyu’s confused already. “Well she wasn’t with me…”

“Why would she be with you, silly? You’re not an alpha.” 

The smile on Seona’s face tells Mingyu she hadn’t meant it as an insult, but her words still sting. “Well she’s not with Jihoon or Soonyoung, I can tell you that much,” he states.

His words make Seona’s expression fall, and Mingyu also hadn’t meant to be rude, but he can’t help himself. The idea of you spending the night with any of his packmates rubs him the wrong way, and he needs to be certain that the girls visiting don’t think you’re here to find an alpha mate.

“Like I said,” Seona sighs, “she never came in last night.”

“Okay, well, I better go look for her,” Mingyu nods, turning to go.

“But-” Seona starts, however Mingyu’s already walking away, sniffing at the air in the hopes he can catch your scent.

There’d been no rain last night, and no heavy winds, so as he walks into the field, it’s not difficult to catch your smell clinging to the grass. Mingyu guesses he shouldn’t be surprised to find your trail leading into the forest, but at the same time, it makes his stomach twist into knots.

When you’d left at lunch yesterday, there’d been a very real fear in the back of his mind that he wouldn’t see you again, and that fear has returned.

His pace quickens as he reaches the tree line. It’s harder to track you with the forest smells, but Mingyu does his best, stopping at a few points to take deep breaths. You have a note of citrus in your scent, and Mingyu’s come to enjoy the taste of it on his tongue.

But then, the smell stops, and Mingyu finds himself at the foot of a tree. For the life of him, he can’t figure out which way you’ve gone, and he cusses loudly, kicking the pine.

“What the fuck?” 

Your groggy voice causes Mingyu’s head to snap up, and he peers through the branches- locking eyes with you.

“Alpha?” he calls.

“Mingyu?”

He watches you rub your eyes, sitting up on the branch you must have been laying on. “What are you doing up there?” he asks, relief flooding his system.

“Trying to get a decent sleep until someone kicked my bed- why are you out here attacking trees?” you retort. 

“I thought I’d lost your scent-” he tries to explain, which causes you to laugh.

“You were looking for me?” you ask, beginning to climb down.

“Well.. yeah. You weren’t in the RV.”

“Couldn’t spend a night with those girls,” you respond, jumping the last meter and landing on your feet in front of him. “They gossip too much.”

“Really?” Mingyu cocks his head as he looks at you. “Gossiping about what?”

“First kisses, boys, that sort of thing.” You won’t meet his gaze, and Mingyu realizes immediately what you’re talking about.

“Oh,” he says softly.

“Yeah, oh.” You tug your flannel tighter around your body and Mingyu wants to take you in his arms-

“Wait… alpha, are you jealous?”

“No,” you snap. 

“It looks like you’re jealous,” Mingyu points out.

“If you wanna get with Seona then you should get with Seona, why would I care?”

“I don’t want to get with Seona.”

You finally look at him. “You don’t?”

He shakes his head. “It was one kiss, we were both young. It happened years ago.”

“The girls said you were being attentive to her yesterday.”

“As attentive as I can be to Seungcheol’s cousin,” Mingyu explains. “It’s not like I’m going to be rude to her, or any of them.”

“Sometimes I forget you’re just a nice guy,” you sigh, running a hand through your hair and taking a deep breath. Your next words are quiet, “I guess when you were being nice to me, I thought maybe it was more than that.”

He swallows, reaching out to grab your hand. “It was more than that,” Mingyu assures you. 

“Really?” You look up at him and he’s never seen you so vulnerable, so beautiful-

“I don’t just go around buying girls underwear,” he says, which causes you both to laugh. “In case you were wondering.”

“So you’re saying…” you step closer to him, and Mingyu’s body tingles at the proximity. “You like me?”

“That’s probably an understatement,” Mingyu admits.

“Good… I understatedly like you too.” You're still holding his hand, and you give it a small squeeze.

“But-” he blinks at you. “I’m not an alpha or anything-”

“I know you’re not, Gyu,” you laugh. “I think that’s part of why I like you so much. You don’t try to tell me what to do. You don’t try to control me. You just… exist with me. I’m not used to that.”

“I-” Mingyu’s brain is blank. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Maybe you don’t have to say anything,” you suggest, leaning closer. Your gaze dips to his lips, and Mingyu’s tongue darts out to wet them-

You’re about to kiss him, he knows it, and his whole body feels on fire as you close the distance between your chests. 

You let go of his hand, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck. “Do you want to kiss me, Gyu?”

The word ‘yes’ doesn’t even cut it, so instead, he simply presses his lips to your own. It’s not a sweet kiss. It’s not soft, or tentative- it’s hungry, and Mingyu’s hands grab at your hips, tugging you closer. 

Your tongue glides over his own and Mingyu groans loudly, fingers digging into your flannel. He’s not sure what’s come over him, but he simply can’t help himself. He leans down, grabbing at your ass and lifting you off the ground.

Your legs instinctively wrap around his hips, a mewl escaping you as Mingyu presses you back against the tree, pinning you there while he continues to kiss you like he’s never kissed anyone in his whole life.

You feel perfect in his arms, and he could get drunk from your lips. Mingyu can already feel his cock straining against his jeans, a need surging through him like never before.

Mingyu had thought he’d lost you - if even for a moment - and he’s not willing to lose you ever again. He doesn’t want you running into the woods anymore when you’re having emotions, he wants you running to him, and he kisses you as if to say ‘please, never leave.’

He had always thought Seungcheol would be his alpha, but you’d shown up and flipped his world upside down. Mingyu doesn’t care about appeasing his friend anymore- all he cares about is appeasing you- pleasuring you, giving you everything you could ever possibly want, everything you could ever need. 

Nothing in Mingyu’s life has ever felt this right before, and he gets lost in the feeling of you as you claw at his shoulders, kissing him harder and taking his breath away.

You can’t believe this is happening. Can’t believe Mingyu has you pressed to a tree, his mouth hot against your own- 

After so many conflicting emotions in the past twenty four hours, this turn of events has you reeling- or maybe that’s just Mingyu. No one has ever kissed you like this before- like you’re the very air they need to breathe. 

He’s intoxicating, and you need more. 

“Gyu,” you gasp against his lips.

He hums, moving his mouth to your throat, peppering your skin in wet kisses that have you groaning.

“Put me down,” you say, voice shaky.

He doesn’t question you, setting you onto the forest floor-

And then you’re pushing at his chest. “Get on the ground,” you command him.

His pupils are blown with lust and he takes a haggard breath, then he does what you’ve asked of him. He stumbles back, landing in the grassy dirt. 

You’re on him not a moment later, straddling his hips and cupping his face, grinding down against his lap while your need for him grows between your legs. You’ve soaked through your panties, but you can’t bring yourself to care-

He feels like heaven below you, seated upright, hands grabbing at your waist and the small of your back, holding you firm to him while you swivel your hips. 

Your kisses move to his throat, teeth grazing by his jugular, and the beta below you shivers. “Alpha-” 

God, it feels so good to have him addressing you properly, to be giving himself to you like this-

“I wanna fuck you,” you tell him. “I wanna fuck you so bad-”

“Please,” he practically whimpers, and the sound has you moaning loudly. 

You apply pressure to his shoulders again, and he falls flat to the ground, looking up at you while trying to catch his breath. 

He doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t need to say anything. 

It’s just you and him, nothing else matters-

A scream cuts through the trees, and your head whips in the direction of the sound. “Did you hear that?” you ask, freezing, your hips coming to a stop while you sit on top of the beta.

“I didn’t hear anything,” Mingyu groans, fingers digging into your skin, urging you to pick up your motions again.

The noise rings again, clearer this time, and you realize immediately what it is. “Shit!” you gasp, jumping to your feet. “The baby is coming!” 

“Now?!” Mingyu sits up abruptly.

“Now,” you confirm. “I have to go.” You lean down to kiss him one last time. “We’ll continue this later,” you promise, and then you’re running through the woods back to the compound. 

Your heart is racing in your chest. You’ve never run this hard before, and your muscles scream at you, but you push on, knowing that you need to get to Cheol’s mate. You need to be there for the birth- it will solidify you as part of the pack, and Hell, lives could be at risk.

You push out of the tree line, eyes zoning in on Seungcheol’s cabin. Women are running around, and a few of the men too. Seungcheol looks wild as you approach, darting up the stairs two at a time-

His hand stops you before you can go through the door. “You smell like Mingyu,” he says.

“Are we really doing this now?!” you ask, breathless. “I need to go help your wife!”

He lets go of your arm, and you enter the cabin, knowing that the next few hours are going to be crucial for not only you, but the entire pack.

Four hours after arriving to the delivery cabin, you exit it, looking around at the male pack outside. You’d thought it best to leave Seungcheol’s wife with his own family, and after the difficult labour, you need an estrogen break. You also need to let everyone know how things went, especially Cheol, who hadn’t been allowed inside due to the small space already being full of female wolves intent on keeping things as calm as possible.

One look at Seungcheol tells you he’s the furthest thing from calm- and you offer him a small smile. “Congratulations, you have a son,” you tell him softly.

“Is everything okay?” he asks, taking in your blood soaked flannel.

“The baby had the umbilical cord wrapped around his neck, but luckily for you, two of my brothers were born that way too. We sorted it out. Your mate, and your son, are both looking perfectly healthy.”

There are tears in Seungcheol’s eyes, and he moves to go past you, to enter the cabin, but then he stops, grabbing your arm. “We’ll have to talk about you and Mingyu later,” he warns, voice low.

“I expected nothing less,” you nod.

The alpha releases your arm, entering the cabin and shutting the door behind him.

Mingyu’s the next person in front of you, taking in your clothes. “I-” he reaches out and wipes some blood off your face. “I don’t-”

“You don’t have to say anything,” you assure him. You can tell by the way his gaze dips to your lips that he wants to kiss you, but you’re much too dirty for that, covered in all sorts of fluids you have no wish to spread across Mingyu’s pretty features.

“You need a shower,” he tells you. “And new clothes.”

“Not a shower,” you state. “I need a nature cleanse after all of this.”

“I know a river nearby,” Mingyu nods.

“Let’s go,” you say softly, ignoring the rest of the pack as you follow Mingyu down the stairs.

An unexpected hand reaches out and pats you on the shoulder, and you turn to see Jihoon nodding at you. “Good job.”

Another hand reaches out, then two more- they’re all avoiding the blood on the front of your shirt, going for back rubs, and you’re shocked to find that the touch isn’t unwelcome.

It feels like acceptance. Like you’re truly part of the pack now.

Even Soonyoung offers you a small smile as you walk past, and your skin feels alive with emotion as you head with Mingyu to the tree line.

The beta doesn’t say anything as he leads you through the forest, and you prefer it that way. You’ve just had to listen to a woman scream and cry and give birth for hours- the silence makes way for the noises of the forest, and they wash over you, relaxing your tense muscles.

Five minutes of quiet bliss go by, and then Mingyu tells you you’re close to the river. You can hear it over the sound of wind brushing through the trees, and the smell of running water hits your nose.

Your pace quickens, and soon, you reach a small alcove. The river has cut a chunk out of the hillside, and the water is still in comparison to the rush beyond. It looks clean, clear, and welcoming. 

Without a second thought, you strip your shirt and bra off, tossing them onto the rocks. Your pants come next, and soon, you’re completely naked, stepping into the cool alcove.

When you look over your shoulder, you find Mingyu gawking at you, still completely dressed.

“Aren’t you going to join me?” you ask, ignoring the icy water as you wade to your hips. 

The beta tears his flannel off, and you turn away, reaching down to cup the water and wash it over your skin. The liquid tints a soft red colour as you brush away the blood, working your hands over yourself until you’re clean. 

You can hear the lapping of water as Mingyu approaches you, and then his large, warm body is wrapping around your back, pulling you tight to his chest.

“You’re amazing,” he breathes, pressing a kiss to your shoulder.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” you retort, turning in his embrace and encircling your arms around the back of his neck. Your breasts press against his bare chest, and he looks down at you with eyes full of wonder.

His hand comes up to cup your cheek, and then he’s kissing you softly. 

You melt against him, letting out a groan- 

You’d been in midwife mode, but the feelings of what had taken place just before hearing the initial scream come back quickly. The need you have for Mingyu returns with full force and you deepen the kiss, gliding your tongue against his bottom lip. 

He stifles a moan, reaching down to grab your hips, pulling you flush to his body. You can feel his hard length trapped between you, and your pussy flutters at the realization that his cock is as big as the rest of him.

Before you can reach for him, Mingyu’s hand is slipping between you, his fingers seeking out your clit, and you moan loudly in his mouth. “I wanna-” he swallows, breaking the kiss to look down at you. “I wanna say you’re wet, but we’re in a river.” 

“I’m wet,” you confirm, digging your nails into his broad shoulders. “You feel so good-”

His lips move down to your neck, and he finds your sweet spot much too fast. You gasp loudly, tangling your fingers in his hair while you grind down against his hand, his digits rubbing harder on your clit.

“No, you feel so good,” he grumbles, breath hot on your throat, making you twitch.

His touch rubs lower, teasing your opening, and you whimper in his embrace. Your eyes close and you lean toward him, resting your forehead on his shoulder while he presses a digit into your core. 

“Shit, alpha,” Mingyu gasps. “You’re so tight-”

“Guess… guess you better work me open if I’m going to take you properly,” you tell him, tugging gently on his hair.

“Yes, alpha,” Mingyu pants, moving his finger in and out of your pussy, “I can do that.”

When you open your eyes and look down, you’re enthralled by his pretty cock, bobbing just below the water. You let go of his hair in favour of wrapping your hand around his length and Mingyu groans loudly by your ear. 

“You’re so big,” you whisper, marveling at how your fingers can’t even touch as you slowly move up and down his shaft. “My big, sweet, beta.”

Mingyu moans again, pressing fevered kisses against your throat and your under jaw. He likes praise, and luckily for you both, you like praising him. 

“Such a good beta for me,” you continue, gasping when he fucks his digit into your harder, palming your clit. “Stretching me so good- add another finger Gyu, I need it.”

You groan when he follows through, your pussy fluttering to accommodate the second intrusion. 

The cold water is lapping at your sides, his forearm flexing with effort while he finger fucks you closer and closer to the edge. Your own hand is still wrapped around him, and you tease your thumb over the slit, making him gasp loudly.

“You like that, big guy?” You smile, pressing a kiss to his collarbone. 

“Yes, alpha,” he nods, sucking on your earlobe. 

“But you’re not going to cum until you’re inside me, right?” you question.

“No, I can-” he lets out a strangled sound when you pump him harder, “I can wait.”

“Good puppy.” 

He whimpers at the pet name, licking your throat while his fingers continue inside of you. 

You swivel your hips, grinding down against his palm, driving his digits deeper into your pussy while moans slip past your lips.

“Gyu,” you whisper, “I’m gonna cum.”

“Please, cum, alpha. Please cum for me,” he begs, sounding as needy as you’ve ever heard him.

Your pussy flutters at his words, and he continues to edge you on, moaning “please” softly in your ear until you’re on the cusp of pleasure. 

“Gyu,” you groan, closing your eyes as your body tenses-

“Come on, alpha,” he encourages you. “Cum on my fingers.” 

Your brain short circuits as your pussy clamps down on him, waves of ecstasy rolling through you, making you shudder in his embrace. 

“You sound so good,” he praises you, sucking on your throat while his fingers continue inside of you, helping you through your orgasm until you’re gasping and clawing at his shoulder, tightening your grip on his cock. “Fuck, alpha-” he groans. 

“Need you inside of me,” you tell him, letting go of his length to steady your hands on his shoulders. 

He pulls his fingers out of your core, grabbing your ass to lift you up. Your legs wrap around his hips and one of his hands lines his cock with your pussy. His eyes look into yours, as if he’s asking permission, and you nod, bracing yourself for the stretch that comes a moment later.

“Fuck-” you groan, burying your face against his throat as he begins to fill you up.

Two digits were big, but his cock is bigger, and your inner walls work to accommodate him as he pushes in inch by inch.

You’re trembling by the time he’s fully inside of you, your hips pressed together. His lips press kisses to your hair, and his fingers dig against your hips. 

“You feel like Heaven,” he breathes.

“But you better fuck me like Hell,” you retort, swallowing thickly as you get used to his size. 

“You got it, alpha,” Mingyu nods.

Something tells you even if you weren’t in the river alcove, Mingyu could fuck you like a beast carrying you in this position, but the water makes it even easier for him to maneuver your body. It almost feels effortless, if it weren’t for his large biceps bulging as he begins to rut into you.

God, he’s so fucking pretty-

His cock hits all your spots, filling you just right. 

If you’d been lost in his kisses, you’re practically brain dead from his cock. You’re clinging to his shoulders, eyes closed in bliss as he pleasures you, rutting into you faster and harder, making the water lap loudly at your sides.

Mingyu’s groaning in your ear, and the sound makes your pussy flutter around him, which only makes him louder. “Alpha-” he cries desperately, grip digging into your ass.

“That’s it, puppy,” you coo, threading your fingers through his hair. “You’re doing so good for me-”

He’s panting now, and you realize he must be close. You suppose that’s what happens when he gets to finger fuck you to an orgasm but you make him wait after stroking him off.

You hadn’t thought about what do to with his cum when you’d entered the water, and now, you’re realizing you’re going to have to make him pull out.

After just helping Seungcheol’s mate give birth, you’ve discovered you don’t want kids anytime soon, and Mingyu cumming inside of you could pose a bit of a problem to your future plans.

You’re going to hate to do this to him- even though you know he won’t protest.

In the dark corners of your mind, part of you plays with the idea of him refusing to pull out. Of him going full alpha and negating your wishes, of him filling you to the brim with his cum and forcing you to feel all of him. 

But you don’t want an alpha. You want him. And it feels like freedom to be fucking a beta who is going to listen to your every word.

“Gyu,” you whisper, threading your fingers through his hair.

He grunts.

“You can’t cum inside of me,” you tell him.

“Fuck, right- yeah,” he nods, swallowing thickly. “I can pull out.”

“But you’ll make me cum first, right?” you question.

God, it might just kill him to fuck you while you cum and hold off his own orgasm, only to pull out of you and jack off into the stupid river-

“Yes alpha, I’ll make you cum,” he promises, fucking you harder. “Please, I’m close- I need you to cum-”

“I’m close too,” you assure him, closing your eyes and focusing on the feeling of his massive cock stretching out your pussy. You can feel a vein running along the underside of his length, that’s how big he is, and it makes your toes curl. “Shit, puppy-”

“Please,” he whimpers, and you realize he’s nearly overstimulated. 

Having Mingyu completely undone while he fucks you is the cherry on top of your pleasure, and you let out a choked gasp, holding onto him tightly while your second orgasm slams into you.

Your pussy clamps down on his cock and Mingyu lets out a loud moan, fingers digging into your hips roughly. He’s panting hard, cussing all sorts of swear words into your ear while he fucks you through your high, taking care of you until you’re done.

The moment you push at his shoulders, he pulls out of you, letting you onto your feet while he wraps a hand around his cock-

“No, let me,” you insist, pushing his fingers out of the way so you can grab his aching length with both fists. 

You press your lips to his neck, kissing him and licking at his sensitive skin while you jack him off, and a second later he’s letting out a deep moan in the back of his throat. It’s something near a growl, and it’s one of the sexiest sounds you’ve ever heard.

“That’s it, puppy,” you praise. “Cum for me. Cum for me, big guy, just like that-”

“Alpha,” he whimpers, body jerking as your touch overstimulates him, and when he’s done, he pushes your hands away from his throbbing cock, struggling to catch his breath. 

He leans down, resting his forehead against yours while you both stand there panting. 

“Fuck,” Mingyu groans, wrapping both arms around you and pulling you tight to his chest. His heart is racing wildly, and you smile against his skin, pressing soft kisses there. “That was so good,” he tells you. “You’re so good-”

“You did all the work,” you whisper, holding him tighter.

“No, I just did what alpha asked me too,” he argues. 

You decide to let him win this one, and you melt against his warm chest, snuggling closer. 

You’re not sure how long you stand like that, but when Mingyu finally lets you go, he cups your jaw, bringing your lips to his.

“I love you,” he murmurs, and it makes your body tense. “Fuck, I shouldn’t have said it-”

“No,” you assure him, pressing your hand on his chest. “I love you too.”

“You do?” Mingyu blinks down at you.

You nod. “In fact… I would have marked you, made you mine, but… I have to talk to Seungcheol first.”

“Right,” Mingyu swallows, “Seungcheol.” 

“You remember your other alpha, right, big guy?” you laugh.

“Yeah.” The beta runs a hand through his hair, gaze shifting to the rocky shore. “We should probably head back.”

“That might be a good idea,” you concede. “Seungcheol probably needs you right now.”

Mingyu nods, grabbing your hand and leading you back to the water’s edge. 

He lets you out first, and you have the suspicion he’s staring at your ass.

“Take my flannel,” Mingyu tells you. “Your clothes are ruined.”

“Don’t mind if I do,” you grin, reaching down for the long shirt that acts like a dress as you wrap it around your naked form. 

Mingyu tugs on his jeans, and you fish your panties out of your clothes, slipping them on. 

“You know, I got these so you could see me in them,” you admit, showing him your ass, “But you hardly got to enjoy them before we got in the water.”

“I have time to enjoy them,” he assures you, pulling you in for a kiss.

He smiles against your lips, and you laugh, looking up at him. “What?”

“I’m just thinking… thinking about the day you arrived here. How I gave you my shirt then, and now here we are, with you in another flannel.”

“You were my knight in shining armour,” you tell him, heart swelling at the memory.

“I can’t explain it,” Mingyu says, “but part of me knew even then- I knew that you were going to change everything. I’m so happy you came to us.”

You beam up at your new mate. “Me too.”

You’re not surprised to find Seungcheol waiting for you when you arrive back at the cabins. He’s on his porch, holding a tiny bundle of blankets, and he stands when you and Mingyu exit the forest.

“I’m going to go talk to him,” you tell Mingyu.

“Do you want me to come with you?” he asks.

“I think this is something he’ll want to discuss alone, you know, alpha business.” You gently elbow Mingyu’s side and he flashes you a smile.

“Whatever you say,” he agrees, breaking off from you to head toward his own cabin while you approach the alpha watching you. 

“Hi,” you greet Seungcheol, stopping at the steps. 

“Hi,” he responds, gaze following Mingyu. 

“That’s a cute baby you’ve got there,” you offer, hoping to break some of the tension you’re feeling.

“He wouldn’t be here without you,” Seungcheol nods. “My mother said you pulled your weight today, and I wanted to thank you.”

“No need,” you assure him. “I was happy to help… is your mate asleep?”

“Yeah, she needs rest.” Seungcheol starts down the stairs. “Come walk with me.”

The two of you head out into the field, and you wait for Seungcheol to start the conversation you know you’re about to have.

The alpha stops in the middle of the open space, looking back at the cabins. “Is it real?” he asks finally.

“Hmm?”

“You and Mingyu,” Seungcheol clarifies, gently rocking the baby in his arms. “Is it real.”

“Yeah,” you nod, licking at the grass and everting your eyes. “I felt something the moment I saw him.”

“He’s a good guy,” Seungcheol sighs. “An even better beta, and the best right-hand man I could have ever asked for.”

“You’re lucky to have him,” you agree. “And he knows how lucky he is to have you as an alpha.”

“And that’s how it’s always going to be,” Seungcheol breathes. “I’m his alpha. I can’t have him torn between us if disagreements ever arise. I could manage if someone else was loyal to you, but not him.”

“He’s still loyal to you,” you insist. “As I said when we met, I’m not looking to be a leader. He can be your right-hand man, and I can be your… left-hand woman.” You both chuckle at the notion. “No one will challenge you with me and Mingyu at your side.”

“I guess there’s truth in that,” Seungcheol admits. 

“I admire you,” you continue. “Not only did you not choose an omega as a mate, you chose a human, and you made her into a beta. I don’t know many alphas that can say that. I think… I think if you get to choose your mate, I should be able to as well.”

“Is that an alpha suggestion, or your personal opinion?”

“Just an opinion,” you say softly. 

There are a few beats of silence, and you listen to the wind rustling through the trees. It’s shocking how much has changed in just a few days. New life in the pack, both the baby and you. New love too.

“I don’t know you that well yet,” Seungcheol says, choosing his words carefully. “But if Mingyu trusts you, then I guess I do too.”

“Really?” you look at the alpha, eyes widening.

Seungcheol doesn’t meet your gaze, he continues looking out at the cabins, but he gives a curt nod. “If you both like each other as much as you obviously do, who am I to come between that?”

“Well, you’re the alpha, so the decision is really up to you-”

“No,” Seungcheol shakes his head. “This isn’t the sort of thing I want to be a deciding authority on. And… if it’s any consolation, the two of you have my blessing.”

Your breath catches, and your throat feels dry. “Thank you,” you say, voice cracking. “I uh… Thank you.”

“No need,” Seungcheol smiles, repeating the words you’d said to him only a minute ago. “Just…” he turns to face you, “don’t break his heart, yeah?”

“Alpha,” you laugh, “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Good,” Seungcheol nods. “Welcome to the pack.”

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🔮 preview. “You’re so pretty,” your mate groans, one of his large hands sneaking up to cup your breast. His thumb brushes over your nipple and you whimper at the feeling. Mingyu sits up suddenly, adjusting a palm to the floor so he can keep himself up while his lips seek out your breasts. He starts by sucking a mark into your skin, letting out a deep sound of pleasure while pressing his face between your boobs. You place your hands on his shoulders, using him as leverage to fuck him harder. The sound of your thrusts fills the small room, and you can hear how wet you are with each bounce. You bet Jeonghan and Joshua can hear it too.

cw/ tw. Protected sex, vouyerism (sex while others listen), slight exhibitionism (sex in an unfinished cabin), size kink, boob worship, mentions of claim marks, big dick Mingyu, praise, dirty talk, mutual orgasm, blow job, deep throating,  etc… I pet names: (hers) alpha. (his) big guy, puppy.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 3.1k I teaser wc. 400

🌙 staring. Mingyu x afab!Reader

bonus

It’s not that working on building cabins out in the forest had been easy, but nothing compares to the difficulties of trying to focus on a build while Mingyu walks around shirtless, skin glistening in the sun with sweat. His scent perfumes the locations he’s working on, and it’s been three straight weeks of you trying desperately to ignore the wet of your panties sticking to your core.

The structure is definitely coming together though, and each day brings you closer to having a place you can call your own. Fucking Mingyu in the RV has been… interesting to say the least. He’s just so big- he doesn’t fit in the tiny bunk bed, so he’s taken to fucking you against the walls, the whole wheeled home rocking-

In fact, a few of your new packmates have come up with the saying, ‘When the RV’s a’ rockin’ don’t come a knockin'. You’re much too used to fogged up windows and biting into a pillow to stop screams from escaping the badly insulated vehicle, and the idea that soon you’ll have a cabin to fuck him in is making you all the more eager to get the project complete.

“When do you think we’ll get this done?” you ask, looking over Jeonghan’s shoulder at the project plans as you finish up for the day.

“Two weeks?” he suggests. “We’ve been making good time on this. Our window guys is set to come in a few days and then after that we just have to set up plumbing and electrical, then furnishings-” Jeonghan lets out a deep breath, considering all the moving parts. “Yeah, I could see you and Mingyu moving in here pretty soon.”

“Mingyu’s not moving in with me,” you insist.

Jeonghan flashes you a knowing smile. “Sure he isn’t.” The wolf rolls up the cabin plans, looking around the space. “You know, even though the windows aren’t in yet, I’m pretty sure if you and Mingyu wanted to christen the place, it’s far enough from everyone else that you could get away with it without Seungcheol knowing and getting mad.”

“That’s not a bad idea, actually,” you smirk.

“That’s me, I’m just full of good ideas,” Jeonghan returns your grin. “But at the same time… if you wanted us to hear you two, if you wanted to be loud, I don’t think any of us would mind.”

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[poisonous-honey]

Hello...

Lately is a shitty time for me on miHoyo's games. I lost both my 50/50s both to Genshin impact and Honkai star rail. On Genshin, i got QiQi by pulling Xianyun and Gepard by pulling Black Swan. Now i'm broke and my moral is at its lowest.

I'd love some headcanons (or a scenario) about SAGAU(and SAHSRAU if you can) hearing the reader yell and cry of frustration about this. Like: "I'M DONE I'M SO FUCKING DONE!! CAN I JUST HAVE THE ONLY THING I'VE WANTED FOR WORKING AND WAITING THAT HARD!!?? FUCK ALL OF YOU I HATE MY LIFE!!!!"

Sorry. I just wanted to let it out...

Who’s Here: Reader/Player, Diluc, Jean, Mona, Keqing, Tighnari, Astral Express crew, and Gepard

Contains: SAGAU and SAHSR (Not Cult AU)

Note: Hey, hey! I'm sorry this happened to you. I also lost her to Qiqi and had to spend everything else I had to try again, 50/50s suck. Their banners aren’t gone yet though so I hope you end up getting both of them soon! (ノ_<。)ヾ(´ ▽ ` )

💛💛💛💛

It was an accident, it always is with them.

The six of them that are considered standard 5 stars never mean to ruin your chances. They care for you and your happiness, they also want you to continue to play their game. Even though they'd love to be the ones going on adventures with you, both to spend time with you and for their own benefit (Tighnari would love to study other nations' fauna, Diluc could gain new ideas for drinks etc.), they know forcing themselves into your party would never work. You'd just grow to hate them, which is the opposite of what they want.

They're jealous of other 5 stars. Sure they can join you technically whenever they want, unlike the others that have to deal with limited timed windows, but that also guarantees you want them. All they can do is break that or hope they're the lucky one chosen on Wanderlust Invocation. Not only do they have to share a space with each other, but they're also going against weapons, which none of them are remotely happy with.

It's when these emotions are at an all-time high, they're jealousy and longing, the stars will glow gold and tug on their heart.

Diluc is always at his desk when he accidentally takes it. Stewing over boring paperwork his mind will wander from time to time, eventually landing on thoughts of you. He'll find himself missing you and desiring your attention, not realizing you've started a wishing session until it's too late, and he hears you cursing the world. He feels incredibly guilty, and it only grows worse when the wind clatters against his windows. Tries to make it up to you with materials and mora. You’ll find your mail flooded with talent books, adventurers EXP, a ton of mora, and the sincerest apology he could write.

Jean would be trying to sleep. She doesn't have time to think about you during her job, so it’s when she’s on the brink of passing out she’ll start to think of you. The thought of travelling with you sounded like the best break she could get. Eventually she’ll fall asleep and dream about you, only to be suddenly woken up by your screaming. She panics and seeks advice from any and all of her friends on how to make it up to you. Ends up acting similar to Diluc, working herself to the bone to get you talent and weapon materials. She’ll pair them with a few dandelions before sending them to you.

Mona is thinking about food. During a time she forgets to set aside enough mora for a decent meal, she’ll find herself thinking about the delicacies you’re able to provide. Even if it involved fighting, it was a free source of marvellous food. Her mouth waters as she thinks about all the dishes you’ve made, only to be abruptly pulled from her thoughts when a star bumps into her and flies off. She sighs when she hears you start cussing up a storm. Knowing your current state, depressed and full of ire, is because of her, she’ll attempt to make it up to you in a way few others could. She manipulates the fates of the stars so you’re bound to get your next gold star early. A simple method she feels guarantees to make you happy and hopefully take the heat off of herself. It wasn’t simple she wishes you could praise her for it

Keqing would be reminiscing her interactions with you during lantern rite. Whenever she sees the traveller in the distance, but is too busy to stop and talk, that’s where her mind will wander when she finally gets a moment of rest. It’s at this moment of respite she’ll long to see you and the traveller again and when she’ll notice the sky turn gold. She feels incredibly bad when she hears you cry, but she doesn’t have much time to meaningfully apologize to you. The best she can do is write a letter to both you and the character she stole the spotlight from saying she’s sorry. She’ll definitely send you some Golden Shrimp Balls when she next has some for herself.

Tighnari, in a similar boat to Jean and Keqing, would be too preoccupied to miss you on a normal day. It’s when he’s out with his friends and slightly inebriated he mentions missing you. Alhaitham starts to mention how that’s a dangerous line of thought for him to have when Tighnari’s chest starts to glow gold. Everyone winces when you soon start shouting and Tighnari slams his face into the table. He’d end up gathering bunches of every flower in Sumeru and send them to you with a picture of him, Collei and Karkata. 

For Qiqi it's a little different. She can't remember the last time you've gone adventuring with her. Half the time she's too preoccupied to even remember she's already on your team. When a star falls and asks if she wants to go, she doesn't have time to check her notebook before she says yes, the star becoming hers and landing on your screen. 

Your rage and disappointment is always made evident fast, which always has Qiqi turning to Baizhu.

“Did I… Do something wrong?”

Baizhu sighs and kneels next to her, “You made a mistake, but it's alright. Come, why don't we look for an apology gift?”

The next day you open up the mail to see one from Qiqi. Attached to it are all the herbs she collected with Baizhu, her specialty dish No Tomorrow, and an acquaint fate.

Sorry… Qiqi doesn't remember what Qiqi did, but Qiqi knows Qiqi is sorry.

🌟🌟🌟🌟

Upon finishing the most recent event, you had teleported to the train suddenly before they noticed your presence leaving them. They couldn’t tell if you were in a menu or had left your computer entirely. After a while with nothing happening on your end everyone aboard the Astral Express quickly settled in, expecting to be here for a while longer. March was in her room organizing her photos, Dan Heng was going through the archives, and Himeko was making coffee while Stella and Welt were entertaining the guests. Gepard and Serval had come to visit the train that day. Pom Pom had wandered off earlier somewhere in the train and everything was relatively peaceful… Until they heard you start screaming.

March, Dan Heng, and Himeko all rushed into the Parlour car while the four already there were looking at each other in a bit of shock. It’s when they start making out what you’re saying and see Pom Pom rush back into the Parlour car did they realize you had started warping. A session which obviously didn’t go as planned.

They don't like hearing you angry or sad, so they try to come up with a plan, something - anything that will cheer you up without seeming too suspicious. All of them are in the middle of discussing when they also hear you mumble out a very quick and aggressive “Fuck Gepard.”

Everyone turns to him and his face goes red.

Plans are immediately put on hold as Stella whips out her baseball bat and attempts to smash his skull in. Welt tries to step in to stop her, Himeko and Dan Heng stand-off to the side (one more disappointed than the other), March cheers Stella on and Serval ignores her brother's plea for help.

They do eventually get around to cobbling up a multitude of jades for you to at least try again, but not before Stella nearly gave Gepard a concussion. He separately sends you an extremely long apology letter paired with a choice item to allow you to pick a 5 starlight cone of your choosing. Some of the others berate him for being so obvious, but he doesn't care as long as you're happy again.

[xcometstarx]

"Gamma." The boy said coldly, his gaze going to the final member of the 5 elements that Boboiboy had been split into. None of them had been safe from the judgemental gaze and words of the boy they once all knew as their blue happy butterfly, and Solar certainly wasn't gonna be let off easy. "Come to finish what your master started?" The boy asked, his gaze disgusted as he looked at Solar. His fan hide most of his face, but the group could still see the annoyed and disgusted gaze. "No! We came to save you-" Solar started, but got cut off by a scoff from the boy. "Please! '𝘚𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘮𝘦'? I don't need saving! Besides, all you'll do is 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘱𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘴! Your 𝘦𝘹𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘭𝘺 like Reta'kka, Gamma, no matter how much you try to denie it. Your just as much as 𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 as he was." The boy spat, rolling his eyes, and snapping his fan shut. Quake held Thunderstorm back, Blaze and Ice immediately trying to help Solar, who'd gone still, and hung his head. The boy was right. And Solar hated that part.

What if Cyclone and Thunder swapped arcs?

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Winter's King 18

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)

Characters: Geralt of Rivia

Note: It's Friday.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Another day brings you just short of the mountain peak. The pace of the train is ragged as they come to a halt and murmurs crawl up and down the lines. You slump against the frigid wind, nestling your chin into the fur of your cloak as you keep your eyes on Daisy’s neck. You yawn as Bryce reaches over to fix the reins as they almost slip from your grasp. 

“You well, mouse?” He growls. 

You nod. You haven’t spoken much in the last days, not since your first night on the mountain pass. You haven’t known what to say. You know he must have seen the king and yourself, how close you were, and you feel his judgment. You just don’t know how to say it isn’t your want. It would be improper to blame the king. 

“We’re almost there. Castle’s just ahead.” He looks up at the dark shapes soaring through the skies. He pointed out the vultures a while back, inferring there must be carrion near to bring them out. “You’ll have a warm place to lay your head.” 

You hum and offer nothing else. As you think of staying still, your stomach storms as violently as the skies. At least when you have a destination, when you are moving, you can make yourself elusive. Once you’re still, you don’t quite know what you’ll do. 

“Daisy will be relieved to rest, the old beast,” he chuckles, “she’s had quite the campaign.” 

You pet the horse’s mane, your hands mittened in strips of wool the grey soldier wrapped around them. 

“I know what the matter is but if you’re not gonna say it, I won’t neither,” he grumbles. 

You dip your head, hiding under the hood. You come to a halt behind the rest of the party as it stalls completely. You lean and peer over the edge of the horse. 

“Aye, you just wait,” he swings off his horse and lands easily on his feet. The snow dusts up around his tall boots. He comes to help you off the horse, your legs as snugly bound in wool. “We’ll find ya some proper clothes for the road at the castle. You’ll need all your toes.” 

You sigh and cross your arms. You look ahead then behind you. You cough and turn to touch Daisy’s soft neck. 

“I didn’t...” you begin. “I wouldn’t betray the queen. Or the king.” 

He huffs and moves closer, blocking the wind as Daisy nuzzles his shoulder, “I know ya wouldn’t, mouse. Is that why yer so meek? You think I judge you?” 

“What happened--” you voice piques and you nearly choke on it, “sir,” you throw your hands up, “I swear, I didn’t ask for it. The king...” 

“Kings do as they will. It is in their nature, it is their right,” he shrugs, “I am not a naive lad no more. You mightn’t have noticed how my beard matches the sheen of my sword, but I’ve seen many things. The old king... he had a few loves. None of them his wife.” 

“Love? Sir. It was a mistake, surely.” 

He is quiet as he shifts his soles. He turns one way then the other, “do you really believe that?” 

Your heart swells so big your ribs hurt. You cross your arms, hooking your hands over your shoulders. You chew your lip and look up at the tall grey man. 

“I don’t know what to believe. I thought I came to serve the queen. I thought... I don’t know, sir. I don’t. I wouldn’t ever hurt anyone. I wouldn’t want to.” 

“I know it,” he affirms, “you are the gentlest soul I’ve met. Well, since my own wife. Certainly, the king is taken with a summer soul like yours. How could he not be?” 

“Taken?” You utter in horror. “I am a maid. That’s all I am. It’s all I ever needed to be.” You sniffle and bring your hands to the edges of your hood, pushing it back to see him clearer, “sir, it keeps me safe.” 

“It did. It kept you safe when it could but that shield has broken.” 

“And what about you?” You murmur. 

He averts his gaze guiltily, “what the king does behind his own walls, I cannot stop. That night, he was unsafe. He threw caution away. For your sake, I deterred him. Reminded him of his duty.” He shakes his head and frowns at his boots, “you came to serve the king, you said, and that is what he intends.” 

You whimper. How can it be? He is wed. He has beautiful wife. And a throne. And an heir on the way. You’re just the maid. Just a maid. Not... that. 

“So, you would let him?” You challenge, a surge welling up your throat, a heat unlike anything you’ve felt before. 

“I serve the king too,” he mutters. “Though I do care for you, little mouse, how could I not? But I was commanded to see to you. To keep you unbothered. Unsullied.” 

Your legs wobble beneath you and you nearly fold over. You can’t stop the rush of emotion that overcomes you, the fire that burns in your veins and makes your vision bleary. You throw out your arms and shove Bryce. Once, twice, three times. He doesn’t budge, taking each in turn. 

“How dare you, sir! How dare you!” You hit his chest with your fists and collapse into him. “I never wanted it. I don’t. I don’t. I don’t.” 

“I know, sweet mouse, I know,” he curls an arm around you and sways, petting your hood, “you’ve every right to despise me. I will take whatever you have for me.” 

You heave and tamp down a throttling sob, “why, sir, why?” 

“It is... my duty.” 

You hear the strain in his voice, you feel the tremor that rolls through him, and how he clings tightly as if he fears you’ll push him away. You can’t. Even if he's hurt you, he is all you have. 

“I won’t beg forgiveness, I don’t deserve that,” he whispers, “but I’ll always be here for you, mouse, so long as you need.” 

You stay again him, silent and weak. You’re angry. You’ve never felt this sort of way. You’ve never felt as if you could tear your flesh from the bone just to let the tension out. You hate it. You’ve never hated anything but that feeling, you loathe it. It hurts worse than anything you’ve ever known. 

“I’m so sorry, mouse,” he continues to rock you, “so very sorry...” 

⚔️

You cannot blame your daze for nearly missing the castle right before you. The dark exterior blends into the rock face, set into the side of the mountain so that an untrained eye might not pick it out. The part splits into several streams, those for the stables, some soldiers to keep watch over the pass, and many more waiting to enter the great castle of Vulture’s Peak. 

As if to proclaim their name right, at least a dozen of the long-necked scavengers perch upon the towers. Bryce keeps you close as you keep astride. You peer toward the front of the crowd. The king’s white hair defines him among the bodies. He speaks with several black-garbed soldiers as Jazlene is helped down from the cart. Neither husband or wife acknowledge each other. 

You sit back and hang your head. Bryce breathes in through his nose and clucks, “right. Let’s get you to the queen.” 

You glance over, numb from more than the cold. He dismounts and brings you down to ground level. He fixes your cloak as it opens and lets in the stirring bluster. He finds a post to tie the horses to before he herds you towards the castle. 

You approach with your head down. The queen stands with a hand on her lower back though her bodice remains snug and flat to her unchanged stomach. The fur cloak drapes from her shoulders majestically as she stands with her head high. You stare at the hem of her skirt and await your orders. 

“Let us see to our host,” the king declares as he offers his arm to his queen, a stiff and despondent gesture.  

You keep your eyes down. You would rather wait without. You sense him pausing, looking around, and he turns to face the facade. He huffs. “Right, Sir Bryce, until I give the signal, you will keep all without.” 

“Your highness,” Bryce agrees and moves closer to you. 

King Geralt stalks through the snow with his wife in tow. Her words drift back behind her, “... so bleak. Is this how they receive a king and queen?” 

The king grunts but gives no answer as he pulls her onward, climbing the steps one by one as she slows him with her odd lean back. You turn to Bryce and tuck your chin down. Neither of you have said much since the pass. 

You wait, blowing into your hands and mulling back and forth. A restlessness stirs through the bodies around you, an uncertainty as you await the king’s confirmation. The lull carries on until the sun shifts into a new phase, or rather, the sky changes hue. 

The doors of the castle creak open and a slender woman descends the stairs. Her skin is smooth like polished brass and a similar hue, her hair is a shade of straw and her eyes are an eerie shade of jade. She wears a plain cloak on her shoulders and a square cap on the crown of her head. 

“Lord Vesemir welcomes the king’s company,” she speaks boldly above the din of curious murmurs. “Please come.” 

She beckons with her gloved hand and turns back to the castle. She walks forward without waiting. Bryce tuts, “typical.” He spins and waves, “you heard her, let’s go. Servants to the east, soldiers find your stations, lords and ladies, the west wing.” 

He spins and grabs your arm, ushering you ahead of the scrambling masses. You let him lead you on, though you might have preferred to stay in the gales.  

Inside, the walls are lit with mounted lanterns. The flames glow along the spacious hall and corridors haze amber to each side of you. Bryce keeps you close as he steps out of the way of the flood of bodies. He stops several other soldiers to direct them on how to accommodate the party. 

“Right,” he peers up the central staircase, with posts like spears, and he points you up it. 

“You know this place?” You keep your voice low as you come to the top. 

“Aye, been here now and again,” he says. “Vesemir isn’t the most hospitable. Not beyond a few, but the king does hold a special bond with the old bear.” 

“Oh,” you peer around at the plain tapestries, no patterns, just cut fabric to warm the walls. There is a single marked banner with symbols you do not recognise. 

“Do not fear. He is harmless. He puts on a mean snarl but he isn’t so mean as he pretends,” Bryce explains. 

You nod and skid to a halt in fright. A large bear stands by the wall, arms raised in attack, it’s great teeth bear in a growl. You squeak and knock into the soldier beside you. It’s white fur reminds you of the king’s tresses. 

“Oh, mouse, it’s long dead,” he pats your shoulder and laughs, “Vesemir claims to have killed the beast with his own hands. He doesn’t mention that no sound or wise man would be so far north as to meet a white bear such as this.” 

You gulp and gape at the large beast. 

“Stuffed. It’s hide preserved,” he points as he gets closer to it, unafraid, “when I first came, I had my sword drawn at the sight. It’s a cruel trick by the castle lord.” 

He touches the bear’s large claw and gestures you forward. You move forward and he takes your hand, putting it to the beast’s large paw. You feel the dried pads and shudder. He lets you go but you do not rescind your reach. You feel the fur of the creature, softer than you imagined. 

“Suppose we should get you where you need to be,” he exhales, taking out his sweet leaves to put some in his mouth. 

You pull back and face him. You wait for his guidance and he presses on. He pauses to ask a servant where the queen’s chamber lays. With his answer, you continue on. 

The two guards stand outside the doors. You recognise the one that is often there, with the coppery hair and sparse beards. The other is not familiar to you, though you’ve seen many faces on the road. Bryce nods to them and they let you through. 

“Don’t trouble her maid, she is in sensitive condition,” the orange-haired guard warns. 

“Eh,” Bryce growls, “mind yer business, she’ll mind hers.” 

“Don’t get your hackles up, old man,” the guard scoffs and you stop to look back. 

“In,” Bryce demands and points you through the door. 

You enter and the door closes out the voices, muffled by the barrier as their argument continues. The confrontation is most unexpected. You don’t recall either of the queen’s men ever speaking to you before. Most times, they barely took notice. You’re only happy Bryce was there to bark back at him. 

The queen is at the foot of her bed. She looks unhappy. You glance around the chamber, for a moment expecting the king to be lurking there with her. She is alone, holding her stomach as she breathes slowly. 

“Would you stop staring like a dolt and fetch a pail?” She garbles behind her hand. 

You grab the clean chamber pot from the corner and bring it to her. She seizes it and spits into it, though she hardly spits up more than saliva. She grumbles and shoves it back at you. 

“This place smells like cinder and dust,” she complains as you return the pot to its place. “And the snow is repugnant. To think, I am to be queen of ice. How dull. We should make our thrones in the summer lands.” 

Her gripes ease you. Those are expected, almost a comfort. 

“Hardly matters where I go, does it? The king never comes anyhow,” she whines and lays back across the mattress, “I carry his child and he doesn’t seem to care. Do you know what he said when I told him?” 

You don’t reply. She doesn’t want to hear more than her own voice. 

“He says, ‘see your duty done before you boast,’” she kicks her legs as they hang over the edge, “see it done? I have his seed in me and he is still distant. Will he see his child in my arms then command me see it to adulthood before my duty’s rewarded?” 

You stare at the wall. Her account of the king’s neglect sickens you, so much that you could spit up in the same pot as her. Is it you? Are you the reason he does not tend to her? Perhaps you do deserve her wrath more than you know. You wish in that moment that she would let it out upon you. You have earned any lashing she may give you. 

Though you may not have chosen your path, not as maid, not as traveler, not as the king’s desire, it does not matter. You will pay for the whims of your masters. As Merinda predicted, though not as she might have dreamt it, they have drawn you into great danger. 

[willowser]

ᴅᴏᴡɴ ᴏɴ ᴀʟʟ ғᴏᴜʀs. werewolf kiri au.

you wake up under a mountain of furs.

light comes flickering from the hearth and, warm and welcoming as it is—you've no idea where you are.

you don't recognize the inside of the cabin; it's certainly not yours, nor is its layout that of any you’ve seen in the village. it's rather plain, with a singular window and table and chair and small fireplace, empty enough that you wonder how anyone could live comfortably with so little.

outside, the winter storm rages on, and there's a howl that cuts through the air that strikes bone-deep.

all at once your memories come back to you: dragged through town with bound hands and ankles, in only a thin night dress, screaming with all your might as the physician that delivered you into this world tied you to an old pine, along with the priest and the man that sold you blueberries in the spring.

people you knew and loved. had trusted.

the memories become hazy after a while, darkening with the night that crept in. you remember your body losing its feeling, but not its fear. you remember the violence of the storm, breaking trees and branches and uprooting the forest floor. you remember the horrible and hulking shape of something rising in the moonlight.

the door shoves open then, with enough force to send you scurrying back into the corner of the room. the blizzard tries to rush inside, but a man stands in its way, leaning back against the wood to keep the wind and snow out where it belongs. he's—big, as tall as the frame and just as wide, with thick hair that he's tied back, messy and low.

he's rosy in his cheeks and on the tip of his nose, as bright as the eyes that snap to you the moment you dare to breathe.

he doesn't say anything, at first. the bag of firewood he sets at his feet settles as he turns to you in interest, eyebrows raised. the clothes he's wearing look—old and worn, certainly not suitable for the storm roaring outside, with the holes and tears in the fabric. the boots he has on, however, seem heavy, have his steps echoing when he moves further into the room.

you pull your knees up to your chest and try to shrink away; beneath your thin dress, your skin has pebbled up, reminding you of just how vulnerable you still are.

your fear translates; the man stops on the other side of the little table, breathing in deeply before raising his hands up in what reads as surrender.

"hello," he finally says, and when you don't respond, he places a thick hand to his dark-haired chest and introduces himself as, "eijirou."

he nods emphatically and then repeats himself, as if to reinforce the name. you only grant him a small nod in return—and he smiles. it's wide, stretching across his face, and friendly, authentic enough that you question whether you're as damned as you thought, or perhaps saved.

how did you even get here? the question finally thaws out from the recesses of your brain and you take another look around the room as if the answer lies between the wood or nestled into the furs. this place looks too hand-crafted, you realize, all of it—and the man before you looks like he could move mountains, if he wanted to.

the chains that had bound you were iron-strong and didn't once budge in all your thrashing, before things went dark—but now you are inside by a well-maintained fire, warm and free, and all that remains of your ill fate are the indentions worn into your wrists.

he's still staring at you, the man. eijirou. he's not moved any closer, either, and when you meet his curious gaze, his lips twist and his eyes narrow. a thoughtful noise comes out of his mouth, like he's thinking of what to say or how to say it, and you're reminded that you don't recognize where you are, nor do you recognize him in the slightest.

big as he is, you don't think he could have carried you too far in a snowstorm such as the one still raging outside; are you still somewhere deep in the forest? in a cabin at the heart of the wood? saved by a man that somehow survives with so little out in the middle of nowhere?

"eijirou," you test the name on your lips and he perks up at the sound, attention snapping back to you instantly. you don't know if it's winter seeping through the floor, or if it's in the way that he watches you, that makes you shiver.

finally, he asks, "cold?" and when you nod, he slowly makes his way over to you, carefully, as if approaching a deer ready to run.

—and then he sheds his shirt with a quick shrug and holds it out to you.

you should want to look away, for decency sake, but you're—stunned by it, by him. there's a litany of scars that paint him in odd and worrisome places, but he stands tall and strong before you, unbothered by his own state. unbothered by the eyes that run over the expanse of his bare shoulders, the dark, thick trail of hair running down from his belly button, the ripples of muscle his loose shirt did well to hide.

you take it from him carefully and it's so warm, almost hot, that you press it to your face immediately to chase away the chatter of your jaw. the material itself, however ragged, is big enough to drape over your curled form like a blanket, and so you do just that. it carries the earthy smell of the woods, deeply woven into the fabric; pine and musk and something smoky.

with your cheek still pressed to his shirt, you look up to thank him, at last, but the words still in your throat at the minute changes of his face: still smiling, though sharper now, somehow, and his eyes are still wide with that keen, rapt interest—but the crimson to them has set like the sun and they've grown just as dark as the night outside.

[persicipen]

𝐼. lapis lazuli ノ neuvillette

𝐬𝐞𝐚 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐲. ₊ ˙ ⊹ . 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭.

₊ ˙ ⊹ . about the storm raging through the night, the abyssal creature of ethereal features, the warmth of the stove.

ৎ୭ ₊ ˙ ⊹ . 3.8k ノ fem reader — folktales au ノ no warnings for now . just some world building of the au ノ should be gn reader here but future chapters will be fem ノ first meeting with dragon neuvi ノ slightly ooc neuvillette — less human and not bound by the court ノ no beta i’m alone in this hehe but i hope it will be a nice read ♡

Beware the waters deep and blue, Where dragons’ whispers call to you. The sea will sing its siren’s song, And draw you where you don’t belong.

This is what kids here sing when playing another version of hide and seek, unknown to you, as you stroll through the morning market. Slightly over-ripe apples and quinces pile up on top of wooden carts, golden marzipan shines on display inside the window of the sweet shop, a gem among everyday pastries and baked goods.

As the grocery shopping was as boring as usual, you wondered about the rhyme, but only vaguely. Maybe some older folks will know the legends that inspired the verses to bloom or can point at the books in the library that have tasty remnants from local legends on their yellowed pages.

“Oh, you know, the same old story — someone’s daughter drowned, and they had to find a better explanation than their child’s stupidity,” one of the older ladies started the daily dose of gossip after hearing what’s on your mind.

Regardless of your willingness to join the elderly tea party at the outside table of the cafe, you’re pulled by their curious eyes and a free chair right next to them.

“Don’t be rude, Celine! There are some who quite recently lost their family to the flood!” complained the one to the left, adding a third spoon of sugar to her teacup.

“Well, it’s quite romantic if you consider it a suicide. Happened quite a few times in the history of our village. Some people long to reunite with nature,” said the one to the right, playing with her golden jewellery that probably weighed more than the bones of her skinny wrists.

“Like I said, stupidity! Do not listen to her, sugar! Bernadette is still mourning a lover from half a century ago who tried to convince her to take a dip together, and when she refused, he forgot about her!” bit back Celine, this time almost coughing into the black coffee she tried to drink while talking.

“Some say he simply moved to the city for better prospects. Well, since he hasn’t ever returned, it must’ve been successful,” added Bernadette, combing through her beetroot-crimson locks, dyed not long ago, before taking a sip of the mixture that’s probably more sugar than tea by now.

“I don’t blame him! The air here is foul!”

“Let them say what they want, but there’s still more magic present here, on the outskirts of civilization, than in the middle of the capital. It’s not for everyone!”

“You mean that kelpie that roams between the lake and the shore?”

“For example. You can’t find a kelpie in the metropolis, am I right?”

“It’s dangerous!”

“It wouldn’t eat you, anyway. You’re all bones and too bitter!”

The elderly ladies didn't stop gossiping for another hour, and it was too boring to listen to their recounts of good old days and how nowadays it’s all bad.

Now, back to the reason why you returned here—

Without any sense of purpose in the city anymore, you went back to the small village by the sea where you had lived before. Tranquil, secluded, and adorned with an antiquated charm, it had all the qualities you needed and none of the numbing, pulsing pace of the capital. Here, it was just wind, sand, and water, and your quaint little cottage with its direct view of the beach from the windows.

In the embrace of this village, you found yourself drawn to spending hours gazing out those windows, lost in thoughts and appreciating the ever-changing nature. Sometimes the weather was delicate, a pearlescent light seeping down onto the damp land, casting a silvery hue across the sands. Other times, it was brash, sudden, dark, and cut with blinding thunders, the sky tearing open to reveal the raw power of the elements. Morning mists covered the flat ground like a blanket, their fingers curling around the village, and even from a distance, the humid cold wafted in through the front door whenever you dared to take a peek outside.

Your life is alright now. Peaceful, at last. Too early for retirement, but perhaps none of the careers available in the principal city of the region were for you. You see and greet the old ladies you knew from your youth, tending to their plots of vegetables and flowers while listening to their gossip. Old ladies are always full of it and more than excited to share the sweet news with someone else.

Each day in the village feels like a page from a folktale, the air thick with stories from years before—no one even remembers who thought of it first, who added the unrealistic situations, and who told the truth. You hear whispers of ancient prophecies carried on the salty breeze, legends that have woven themselves into the very fabric of this place. The market is a trove of mysteries, where you sort through trinkets and treasures, each one with a story of its own.

The villagers speak of the sea serpents and dragons who sometimes venture too far into the bay, abandoning their kingdom of rough waves and open seas to take a rest through spring and autumn seasons. The sea itself is a living entity, its moods shifting from serene calm to tempestuous fury. On calm days, the water is a mirror, reflecting the sky’s soft blues and the occasional wisp of a cloud, pearlescent light seeping down onto damp land. But when storms roll in, the ocean roars and crashes against the spiky stones guarding the gulf, brash, sudden, dark and cut with blinding thunders right behind the nook. You find solace in these rhythms, the ways of nature comforting you in a way the city never could.

In your little cottage, surrounded by the mists, you’re stuck seeking a new purpose. Sorting letters at the nearby post office becomes a ritual, a way to connect with the lives and stories of the villagers. Each envelope, each package, a fragment of someone’s existence, a thread in the tapestry of the village’s collective narrative.

As the days blend into a gentle, melancholic rhythm, you start to understand why the villagers lean into experiencing the magical encounters. Partly because the days are dull, but there’s something in the air—an electrifying howl that brings pure magic from both the sea and the hills. It is said that the creatures appear to those who truly listen, who open their hearts to the whispers of the waves and the winds. You find yourself dreaming of the serpents and the dragons, perhaps having a preference for water beasts instead of these cutting through the air. Their shimmering scales and ancient eyes reappear whenever you drift off during your naps, feeling a connection that defies explanation. In these dreams, the dragon speaks to you in a language you cannot decipher yet understand the meaning within your soul, its voice a symphony of the sea.

Your return to the village is more than a retreat from the city; it is a journey into the heart of the unknown, a quest for meaning in a world of mist and magic. Here, in this place where time seems to stand still, maybe you will find yourself, too.

The transition from the early spring to a muggy start of the summer brings storms more violent than the winter ones. The bay is safe, but the roar of the sea and coal-black clouds wander into the land, rustling against your windows when you sip on the afternoon tea, warmly wrapped in the blanket while reading a book too old to guess its title from the worn-out cover.

It’s hard to focus on words, though. You still think about the fisherman who, earlier that week, caught a mermaid in his nets, all accidentally, but it worked as a catalyst for more exceptional meetings between the villagers and the magical creatures. The couple that rides the britzka to deliver the packages claimed they’d seen a dead kelpie further down the shore, devoured by something more evil—dangerous to horses, but not for humans, they quickly assured.

Your mind drifts to the dreams you’ve been having about the serpents and the dragons. They come in vivid fragments, again, taking your attention away from the printed sentences. It all leaves you with an inexplicable yearning, a sense that your life is intertwined with the mysteries of the sea in ways you are only beginning to understand.

A sudden flash of lightning illuminates the room, followed almost immediately by a crack of thunder that shakes the walls. Startled, you set your book aside and move to the window, peering through the rain-streaked glass. The weather outside is ferocious, waves sliding far onto the beach and taking the soil into the depths, carving new puddles and meanders. As you watch, something catches your eye—a figure, shining like a fallen star and indistinct, sprawled on the sand where the sea meets the land. Such a violent storm brought a creature to the shore.

“W-what is this…?” you mutter to yourself, struck with worry.

You throw on a cloak and rush out, the wind and rain lashing against you as you make your way to the shore.

The unconscious beast lies motionless, half-buried in the wet, murky sand, its chest rising and falling with shallow breaths.

You would’ve thought it was a human at first, but as soon as you searched around its body for human traits, all you could focus on were the scales, the slippery skin, the bluish tints of the beautifully pale arms. The hair, iridescent and tangled with the sea foam, frames a face that is eerily beautiful and hauntingly white. A man, probably, so you hesitate to bring him home, but there’s no other place to help him.

Leaving him during a heavy rain on the beach would simply mean finding his dead body the next morning.

Gently, you kneel beside him, pausing only for a moment before you slip your arms under his body. It feels cool and strangely slick to the touch, but you manage to lift it, surprised by its lightness. Struggling against the wind, you carry him back to your cottage, your steps quickened by the urgency of the storm and the fragility of the being in your arms. Never has the short distance between your doors and the shore taken you so long to cross, inflicting panic along your limbs.

It doesn’t seem like it should stop pouring outside anytime soon when you set the unconscious body on the floor, dragging your hands across your face to wipe away the droplets running down from your hairline.

The pale man lies motionless, save for the rise and fall of his chest. Gently, you examine his face, with its long, elegant nose and high cheekbones, noticing how each trivial feature works together to create a visage that is oddly ethereal and entirely entrancing. You feel compelled to trace your fingers across it, to confirm the solidity of its beauty. It’s cold under your touch, a few grains of sand sticking to the clammy skin, yet still looking remarkably human, except for the hair, tinted a bluish shade from seawater. Even old people from the village have their hair muddy, incomparable to his starlight silver tresses.

Relieved that he is alive and in the warmth of your house regaining colour on his cheeks, you dash to prepare a bath. Scented with healing salt, you worry if it’s not too piping hot for him because the steam covers the entirety of your small bathroom. Some spare clothes — shirts too big for you and bought on a whim for a tiny price in one of the thrift stores of the city of Fontaine — are waiting on a chair nearby for when he’d be ready.

By the time you return to him, he’s blinking in a daze, half-sitting, half-lying.

“How do you feel?” you ask, helping him stand up. His long, sinewy limbs work perfectly, showing no signs of fatigue or pain from his body dragging against the stormy ocean, trying to cling onto survival. “I… my apologies for bringing you here! I feared you would be in danger if I didn’t bring you in.”

“Thank you for your concern…” His voice is weak, whispery like a lone gust of wind along the flat shore, the roar of the sea having been nothing but a memory now. He touches his forehead with his delicate fingers, shaking his head slightly. “It must’ve been terrible to wander outside during a storm.”

Despite your willingness to continue the conversation, you weren’t entirely sure if he’s strong enough to put him through questioning. Your head is bursting with doubts. To prevent it from overwhelming you in an instant, you change the topic, informing him about the readied bath and gently guiding him toward the inner door.

“You must be cold. I don’t want you to get sick, so please… I hope I can help you this much, at least with a bit of hospitality from my side. At least for the night.”

He only nods, entering the other room. When he raises his hands to reach out for the bathtub, the muscles move under the skin like slender fish, agile and beautiful.

“I will leave you alone now, but call for me if you need anything.”

You knock every so often to check on him, clean the rest of the main room while he takes a while, warming up and getting dressed. Forcing yourself to work on something, you push the worries to the back of your mind, folding the bedsheets with trembling fingers.

To have a stranger late at night in your house… not entirely human, a watery creature of handsome features. Who knows what can possibly happen if he stays here past midnight? But how could you throw someone out into the cold evening with nowhere else to go?

“Excuse me?” he calls softly, stepping behind you and catching you off-guard. “I apologise for presenting myself in such a state… It was not my intention to scare you off or to have you drag me out of the waters, risking your own health… Are you alright?” He pauses, not coming closer in regard to your comfort.

You look down at yourself, remembering only now that the sleeves of your chemise and the hem got soaked outside, and you forgot to change with all the cleaning activities you’ve been doing around the house.

“Yes, I am,” you breathe out, biting back the shame, turning fully to face him and offering a polite smile. “It’s me who should ask if you’re alright…”

He lets out a sigh, shaking his head slowly. “Nothing of your concern, rest assured. It might’ve been irresponsible of me to wander out of safety into the storm.”

“I… who… what are you exactly?” you mumble, picking up his damp clothes, a rag, what you would call in your mind but are too afraid to say out loud, from the floor. “Some sort of local deity?”

“A water dragon. But yes, known in this region very well. Most have seen my image through raindrops on their windows and the clouds gathering during stormy days.” He braids his shining palladium locks together with indigo strands growing out of his head, perhaps a pair of soft horns that look more like long ribbons in the shade of the clear depths.

“A dragon!” you repeat.

He chuckles softly. “You’ve never heard about them in myths? They’re common all around these parts.”

“I did! Yes, of course! It’s just… quite unthinkable, won’t you agree?” You turn your gaze to the floor. “I must sound like a fool.”

“Not at all. I’m sure your curiosity is reasonable.” He continues his soft smile, bringing in front of him the delicate hands, their webs shimmering in the dim light of the living room. “I owe you my life, after all. Even I have limits and a storm like the one wrecking havoc outside is no less lethal to me as to humans at sea… May I sit?”

You nod and start rummaging through the drawers and shelves of your kitchen in search of something to give him for dinner, feeling rude for not having prepared anything sooner. The small stove — if the warm embers were to be called so — was not to be used today anymore. Perhaps there’s still some leftovers from lunch, but that would be ridiculous to offer to someone who looks almost immaculate, dressed in your shirt with sleeves rolled up, save for his still damp hair. An evil twist of fate, to have a sudden guest of unimaginable elegance and charm, yet nothing of equal value to feed him. The plan was to get groceries tomorrow.

“A-Are you hungry? Or in need of a drink?”

“Not necessarily, though I do appreciate your kind offer. A warm water or tea will suffice.”

You set the kettle, unsure of what else to do. With a soft purring of the water inside and the creak of wood inside the stove, you shuffle your weight from one leg to another, clearly stiff under the unusual atmosphere. He seems of no danger, a subtle and slow creature resembling a true gentleman, if you were to describe him to someone else. Almost human, maybe even enough for you to forget about the mystical traits once you part with him, your memory remembering only a man washed ashore.

“So… Water dragons,” you start, afraid of where the conversation may lead to, “the village has many legends about dragons. Well, I wanted to believe them all… But to know that it’s really true, right here in front of me. Well, now it seems like a different tale.”

He hums softly in response, looking at you with attentive eyes, sincere yet somewhat guarded. He’s hesitant to give away too much, it seems.

“What are they like? W-what is your kin doing here? If… If I may ask.”

He ponders on it for a moment, no harm in your innocent question besides being slightly invasive. What a mere mortal may want to know about magical species? After all, he’s been returning to the bay exactly because of those good elemental energy currents — they must be affecting people living here, too.

“Well, dragons live mostly in solitude, having large territories for themselves. Though, mostly there’s a certain purpose behind it. But I shall spare you the monotonous details.” He holds his hands together, leaning back in the chair. “Peninsulas and bays are relatively safe, so we come there to rest, to mate, to remake old spells guarding the shore, to replenish mana near our birthplace.”

You listen closely, staring at the ceiling and praying that the water will boil faster, soon, to give you an excuse to step away. Not only from the embarrassment of these topics, but the throbbing in your chest making it difficult to breathe, an unfamiliar smell reaching your nose, coating your lungs with a sweetness hard to get outside the honey delivery to the market. It’s not tea, not this time, albeit you picked a good one, a special one to treat your guest with generous care.

“Huh…”

“Is everything alright?” He stops the monologue, cautiously eyeing your silhouette.

“Just tired. It must be the pressure change from the weather. I usually am not performing any exercises at this hour. I… I would be going to bed soon, actually.” Admitting it turns into a pang of guilt dashing across your shoulders.

“Would you like me to stay somewhere else? I don’t want to cause any trouble…”

“N-No! Please, worry not!” You shake your head, surprised by the sound of your own voice dying in the stuffy air of the cottage. “There’s nowhere else to go at this hour here… I thought of taking you to the doctor in the morning. But I cannot imagine letting you out during the storm! Even a short walk to the closest neighbour is too risky now…” You admit with defeat, not wishing to sound that desperate. Albeit, appearing too caring is still better than treating a presumably wounded guest with icy coldness.

The nameless visitor just glances across your body, eyebrows furrowed in a handsome expression of concern — that would not be gentlemanly to let you suffer from the exhaustion just because he was careless in his sea ventures. How are you even that trusting, even more after he revealed his true nature? Shouldn’t humans be scared or suspicious in such moments? Is there really no other way and you play along, acting like it doesn’t bother you — but in reality, it does?

He sighs, letting go of the topic, at least for the time being, while you’re busy hiding your emotions behind the act of pouring tea into the cups. Observant of your actions, as if waiting for a chance, he keeps his iridescent eyes on your hands.

“Do you need help with that? You’re shaking. Careful with the boiling water…” He muses quietly, but the answer is in your reluctant headshake.

The gentle dance of fiery pixies from the candles and the lamps scattered on shelves and other flat surfaces around the house gives a vibe much warmer than the actual temperature inside. You never liked fire, to be honest, not that much, but at this hour you wouldn’t say no to a gentle flame coaxing you into its arms for warmth and solace. For all the issues your little stove causes you per year, you’re glad it’s enough to heat your creaky cottage during the colder months.

When you pass him a cup, his webbed fingers linger around yours a little longer than necessary.

What was this peculiar feeling? Wasn’t it just you misinterpreting the situation? Everything was weird since the moment you met him. How could you know if he truly does not possess the will to harm you? So far, you were ready to invite him in, offer him a spare bedroom, lend him some of your clothes. But just when you started questioning your decision, you wobble on your legs and lose your balance.

There’s a feeling of emptiness around you, so precipitous that your knees bend and you close your eyes with an exclamation. The man reaches out, catching you before you fall to the floor, already unconscious…

For those who gaze into the tide, May find their hearts with dragons tied. But heed this warning, lest you fall, The sea’s embrace will claim you all.

[dolcettamagica]

𐙚˙⋆.˚ 𝐒𝐚𝐥𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐞

gangleader!sukuna x reader, modern au

tags: possessive & obsessive sukuna, choking, lowkey stalking translations: piccola - little one/baby notes: listen to "salvatore" by lana del rey wc: 1.7k

In the dimly lit underbelly of the city, where shadows whispered secrets and alleys told tales of violence, there existed a figure feared and revered in equal measure: Sukuna Ryomen, the enigmatic leader of the most dangerous gang. His name struck terror into the hearts of those who dared oppose him, while his charisma drew countless souls into his fold.

Sukuna was a man who commanded respect without uttering a word. His mere presence exuded power, his icy gaze capable of silencing even the boldest of adversaries. With a network spanning the city's underworld, he held dominion over illicit trades, clandestine operations, and the very pulse of criminal activity.

Yet, amidst the chaos and the conquests, there was one enigma that eluded Sukuna’s grasp: a woman whose allure ignited a fire within him. You, a mysterious beauty with a spirit as untamed as the flames dancing in the night. You moved with a grace that defied the chaos around you, a silent tempest in the midst of the storm.

From the moment Sukuna laid eyes on you, he knew you were unlike any other. You were not bound by the rules of his world, nor swayed by the promises of power and wealth. Instead, you remained an enigmatic force, unyielding and unattainable.

Driven by an insatiable desire, Sukuna sought to possess you, to unravel the mysteries that shrouded your existence. He offered you riches beyond measure, a throne by his side where you could rule the underworld together. Yet, each offer was met with a gentle refusal, as you remained steadfast in your independence.

Frustration festered within Sukuna's heart, a tempest of emotions that threatened to consume him whole. He was a man accustomed to getting what he desired, yet you remained beyond his reach, a tantalizing mirage in the desert of his ambitions.

Despite his best efforts to suppress the yearning that gnawed at his soul, Sukuna found himself inexorably drawn to you, like a moth to the flame. He watched from the shadows as you moved through the city, a silent guardian cloaked in mystery.

In the depths of the night, when the city slumbered and dreams took flight, Sukuna found himself haunted by visions of your captivating gaze. You were the one anomaly in his meticulously crafted world, the one puzzle he could not solve.

And so, amidst the chaos and the conquests, Sukuna Ryomen, a formidable leader, found himself ensnared by the one thing he could not possess: the heart of a woman who danced beyond his reach, a forbidden desire that burned brighter than any flame in the darkness.

In the depths of his lavish office, Sukuna sat with unwavering determination, his gaze fixed on the phone before him. His frustration simmered beneath the surface, a molten rage that threatened to erupt at any moment. With a swift motion, he seized the device, his fingers dancing across the screen with a commanding presence.

"Where are you, piccola?" he typed, each word a declaration of his unwavering dominance. "You cannot hide from me forever. I will find you, and when I do, you will answer to me."

There was no room for hesitation in Sukuna's messages, no trace of the desperation that had once plagued him. Instead, his words dripped with authority, each message a demand for her submission.

"Do not test my patience" he continued, his tone brooking no defiance. "You belong to me, and you will come to me willingly. There is no escape from my grasp."

With each message sent, Sukuna's resolve hardened, his determination driving him forward with unrelenting force. He would not be denied what was rightfully his, not by anyone, especially not by a woman who dared to defy him.

"Tell me where you are," he commanded, "I will not ask again."

But still, there was no response, no sign of surrender. Anger flared within Sukuna's chest, a wildfire of fury that threatened to consume him whole.

"If you think you can hide from me, you are sorely mistaken," his words a warning laced with venom. "I will tear this world apart to find you, and when I do, you will regret ever crossing me, piccola."

With a final message sent, Sukuna leaned back in his chair, his eyes burning with a fierce determination. He would not rest until you were in his grasp, until you bowed before him in submission. For in Sukuna Ryomen's world, there was no room for defiance, only dominance and control. And he would have it all, no matter the cost.

As Sukuna's fingers hovered over the screen, poised to send yet another commanding message, the door to his office swung open with a forceful creak. In strode one of his most trusted lieutenants, a figure cloaked in shadows and whispers, bearing news that ignited a spark of hope within Sukuna’s hardened heart.

"Boss," the subordinate – Toji – began, his voice low and deferential, "we've received word. She... she's in Miami."

The words hung heavy in the air, a tantalizing promise of victory amidst the tumultuous storm of Sukuna's emotions. Without a moment's hesitation, he rose from his seat, his movements swift and decisive.

"Prepare the jet," he commanded, his voice cutting through the silence like a knife. "We leave immediately."

There was a sense of urgency in Sukuna’s tone, a hunger that burned brighter with each passing second. Miami beckoned like a siren's call, its neon-lit – ruby, blue and green, neon too – streets promising the chance to reclaim what was rightfully his.

As his subordinates scrambled to fulfill his orders, Sukuna's mind raced with thoughts of the woman who had eluded him for far too long. He could almost taste the sweet victory that lay within his grasp, the moment when you would finally bend to his will.

With a steely resolve and a heart set ablaze with determination, Sukuna embarked on his journey to Miami, a man possessed by a singular purpose: to capture the one who dared to defy him and to assert his dominance once and for all.

The sun hung low on the horizon, casting its golden rays upon the pristine sands of the Miami beach. Among the throngs of sun-seekers, Sukuna strode with purpose, his eyes scanning the shoreline with a predatory intensity. And there, amidst the azure waves and the gentle sway of palm trees, he spotted you.

You laid upon the sand, a vision of beauty that stole the breath from Sukuna's lungs. Clad in a bikini that left little to the imagination, you exuded an aura of confidence that only served to fuel his desire. Your bronzed skin glowed beneath the sun's warm embrace, your tousled hair cascading like silk upon the sand.

With measured steps, Sukuna approached, his gaze never wavering from the woman who had haunted his every thought. He stood before you now, a towering figure clad in shadows and sinew, his presence commanding the attention of all who dared to gaze upon him.

"Piccola," he said, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine. "You cannot hide from me forever."

There was a flicker of defiance in your eyes, a spark that ignited the flames of desire within Sukuna's chest. But he would not be deterred, not by your beauty nor by your resolve. He had come too far, fought too hard, to let you slip through his fingers once again.

"You belong to me," he declared, his words laced with a possessiveness that bordered on obsession. "And now, you will come with me."

But you remained unmoved, your gaze steady as you met his with a defiance that stirred something primal within him. You were a challenge, a tantalizing puzzle that begged to be solved, and Sukuna was more than willing to rise to the occasion.

“I was working on my tan, boss.”

"Working on your tan," he repeated, his voice betraying none of the turmoil raging within him. "In Miami, of all places."

There was a subtle tension in the air, a silent battle of wills as you and Sukuna locked gazes. Your defiance sparked a flicker of admiration within him, even as it fueled the flames of his frustration.

"Indeed," you replied, your tone cool and composed. "Is there a problem with that?"

Sukuna's jaw clenched, a silent testament to the storm of emotions swirling beneath his stoic facade. He had come too far, searched too long, to be met with such casual indifference.

"No problem," he finally replied, his voice a low growl. "But I must insist that you accompany me. We have unfinished business, you and I."

Your lips curved into a sardonic smile, a glimmer of amusement dancing in your eyes. "I'm afraid you'll have to be more specific, boss. I have many businesses, all of them quite finished."

Sukuna's patience wore thin, his frustration bubbling to the surface like molten lava. He had pursued you across oceans and continents, faced down countless adversaries in his quest to claim you as his own. And yet, she remained as elusive as ever, a tantalizing enigma that refused to be solved.

"Enough games, piccola," he snapped, his tone cutting through the air like a knife. "You cannot hide from me forever. Sooner or later, you will bend to my will."

The tension crackled between you like electricity as Sukuna's hand shot out, seizing you by the throat with a force that bordered on violence. His grip was firm, unyielding, a silent declaration of dominance that sent a shiver down your spine.

For a heartbeat, time seemed to stand still as you stood locked in a primal embrace, your gazes locked in a fierce battle of wills. But beneath the surface, a different kind of energy simmered—a raw, unbridled desire that pulsed between you like a current of electricity.

Your breath came in ragged gasps as Sukuna's grip tightened, his fingers leaving imprints on your skin like branding marks. And yet, there was no fear in your eyes, only a smoldering heat that mirrored his own.

With a low growl, Sukuna leaned in close, his lips brushing against your ear with a tantalizing promise. "You cannot resist me, piccola," he whispered, his voice thick with desire. "You were made for me, and you know it."

A shudder ran through your body as you felt the heat of Sukunas breath against your skin, your pulse racing with a heady mixture of fear and excitement. You knew that you were as drawn to him as he was to you—a dangerous truth that sent a thrill coursing through your veins.

“You will always belong to me.”

[back2bluesidex]

Dear Darling - JHS [Masterlist/Prologue]

Pairing: Serpent king (imoogi)!Hoseok X Human!Reader

Theme: Angst, dark romance, smut, fantasy au.

Wordcount: 1.5+ for the prologue

Summary: After his bride flees from his clutches and reaches the realm of mortals to reunite with her lover - Hoseok has no choice but to chase her. Upon his arrival to the land of obnoxious humans, he crosses paths with you. You are a small, driven mortal who walks with a load of despair on her back. You are nothing but a delicious meal to him and he wants nothing more than to suck your life out of you, find his runaway wife and return to his kingdom. But much to his dismay, you ruin his plans, make him do what he never imagined doing in 600 years of his life - like making him fall in love and keeping him bound to you.

Warnings: Hoseok is cruel, there maybe some mentions of blood but nothing too crazy, eventual smut, heavy themes, quite dark actually (more will be added with each chapter). NSFW!!

Accepting Taglist Requests.

A/N: Got this idea in a dream.... that's all:')

Prologue | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Epilogue

Masterlist | Patreon (Early access to the chapters)

Jung Hoseok. 

The name was enough to shake the core of dark creatures with terror. Even serpents like him would not dare to cross paths with him. 

He is an ominous creature of the night, rules the realm of darkness. He stays under the shadow and attacks when his preys are at their weakest. 

He is powerful, cruel, horrendous and everything that can be one’s nightmare. And to climb at the peak of his power, to rule the underworld with more and more ruthlessness - he must get married. 

He was about to be completed with the coupling ceremony by now only if - his bride didn’t run away. 

“Do you think I believe you, sir?” Hoseok speaks with a voice so cold that he can clearly see the shiver that runs down the subject's entire body. 

The old man - or more likely - an old serpent is sitting on his knees in front of him. His head is hanging low, palms conjoined with each other to beg the king. 

“You- you must believe me, my lord. I know n-nothing of the lady’s departure.” his voice is trembling but he keeps lying regardless. 

Does he not know Hoseok can see him through? 

“Really? I must believe you?” he laughs, one that prickles on your skin in the worst possible way, “then.. Would you be able to pay the price of my trust?” 

The old being doesn’t say anything. One of Hoseok’s guards pushes the tip of his sword further in his side. That coaxes a reply out of him, “what- what price must I pay, my lord?” 

Hoseok smiles, “I heard you have a freshly transformed son? Only a year old, if I am right. I was wondering how enjoyable it would be to rip off his very new scales one by one and then behead him in front of the entire kingdom?” 

The old man jerks at that “My-My lord. No. I beg you no. I- I will tell you as much as I know.” 

“That’s good. So tell me, where is the soon-to-be queen hiding? Down the sea or up the mountains?” Hoseok bends one of his knees to come face to face with his prey. His heavy cloak falls on the ground as if to make a carpeted floor for the king. 

“She… she has fled to the realm of mortals. My- my brother, who- who is half human has helped her out. I heard that her lover, a gumiho, is settled there. But I swear to my kids, my lord, I don’t know where she is, how she fled. I only helped her in contacting my brother. That’s all.” 

“What? What did you say? Realm of mortals? Her lover is a gumiho?” Hoseok roars, stands abruptly. His anger flares like a ring of fire and as a result dark clouds start swinging in the already dark sky. 

The storm starts raging just as Hoseok’s anger, “Guards! Behead his entire family right this instant! And make sure he watches them die before having the pleasure himself.” 

He ignores the pleas of the old serpent as he walks away. And even if he didn’t ignore those, what could he do? 

The blood that runs in his veins is cold, there is no heart that beats inside his chest. Even monsters call him a beast. He is just that bad. 

But he is even worse to the ones who betray him - like his wife-to-be, who has managed to flee from his grips, who also has fallen in love with the enemies of his kind. 

Only if she wasn’t the chosen one - the one who can increase his powers by tenfold. He would have killed her right the moment he found her. 

However, he can’t do so, not at least now. Before everything he has to find her. He has to visit the realms of humans, whom he loathes so much, to pull her between his clutches again. 

“How are the Mins doing?” Hoseok’s dark eyes focus on the goblet of dark red liquid that sits atop the table. 

On the other side of the table sits his trusted advisor Kim Seokjin. He is probably the only serpent in the kingdom, whom hoseok as a speck of trust on. 

“Thanks to you, my king. They have been running a very successful business on the land of humans.” Kim Seokjin states. 

“Tell them to prepare a comfortable stay for me there. I will be finding and bringing my bride back myself.” Hoseok orders. His fingers curl underneath the goblet in the meantime. 

“My lord, it will not be wise for you to visit alo-”

Hoseok slams the goblet on the table interrupting his advisor, “Mr. Kim, do you perhaps doubt my capabilities? I assume you already know I am more than capable of destroying the entire mortal land all by myself.” 

“Yes, my lord, I am well aware of that. I will convey your message to Min Yoongi.” Kim Seokjin stands on his feet and bends down on a deep bow before leaving the room. 

Hoseok feels a buzz in his cold veins. He is eager to find out how love can be more important than the power he was going to provide Soojin with. 

She could be the queen of this kingdom but she chose to fall in love with a gumiho instead. 

Love? Huh! He scoffs to himself. He is proud that he can feel no such emotions. And he would rather have his scales rip off than falling in love with another creature. 

Extravaganza. 

These lowly human beings know nothing but extravaganza. 

From the full glass buildings to the noisy music on the streets, they overdo everything and anything. 

Hoseok’s eyes scans each and every corner of the mansion that the Mins have organized for him to stay. This, too, is extravagance in every way. 

Min Yoongi, the head of this generation’s half-serpents, sits on both of his knees in front of Hoseok. 

“My king, it is a reward to have a chance of serving you personally. Just name what you want, I will have it presented right before you.” he speaks like the obedient servant that he is.

“A job. I need a job.” Hoseok speaks absent-mindedly. 

“My lord, forgive this lowly creature but did I hear you right? You need a job?” Min Yoongi’s confusion makes Hoseok smirk. 

“Yes, Mr. Min. you heard that right. I need a job to blend with these mortals. I am certain my wife-to-be has put the tigerlilies at work. You might already know, inhaling the pollen of those flowers once is enough to be transformed into any other creature for two nights. And even the King, as I am, is unable to defy its power.” Hoseok comes to stand in front of Yoongi, his hands are kept behind his back. 

His dark eyes find the pale man amusing and quite obedient. 

“Yes, my lord. I am well aware of the magical powers of the flower. About the job - thanks to you, my business here is running well. I can arrange an executive position for you at the company, if you’d like.” 

“Executive?” Hoseok raises one of his perfectly shaped eyebrows, “what kind of work do they do?” 

“They don’t have to do anything much, my lord. I will take care of whatever work your position might be responsible for, you can invest your sole concentration on your task.” Min Yoongi bows lightly. 

“I like your proposition. Tell me how to get to your company.” Hoseok takes a few steps back towards the staircase. The intricate designs of the railing catches his eyes. 

“I will have a car ready for you, if you want to visit now.” 

“I would like that.” 

Hoseok climbs out of the car and stands in front of the large building that the Mins have been ruling with the power of wealth that he had gifted them, some hundred years back. 

He scrutinizes the glass walls. His gaze zeros on his own reflection and he devilishly smiles at the way he looks so human. 

Min Yoongi has arranged some clothes for him. Some black silk pants with a silk shirt and a short cloak that they call a blazer. 

Hoseok has always been proud of the way he looks. But he must admit - he looks even better and more eye-catching in human clothes. 

His, now invisible, scales rise under the material of his clothes when he senses someone else watching him from a short distance. 

He projects his eyes in that direction and finds a woman with petite form, big pebbly eyes and a beautiful face. 

It’s you. 

With just one glance he sees right through you. He can see your breath getting stuck in your throat at the sight of him. He can see the cogs of your brain working and your heart leaping inside of your chest. 

He knows you are getting attracted towards him. And that’s good for him. Having a human right on his foot as a servant can help him in tracing Soojin faster. 

It’s one of his powers to attract his prey, like how a pitcher plant emits a sweet smell to attract insects only to eat those up when those near it. 

But with those innocent eyes, that alluring face - it’s a waste that you are just another moth driven to the flame.

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[the-fandom-is-now-my-life]

Hi 👋🏻 are you taking requests for the creators child AU.

Could the child be Alhaitham's or maybe Diluc's.

Thank you

The creator had

Such a smart child

WC: ~900

This feels more like a collection of head cannons but enjoy!

I believe Nahida would be able to dull the hit to the archons enough for them to not have a public outbreak like in other scenarios, so most of the gossip around is from people of sumeru.

“Stop speaking like that of the acting great sage! The matra will get you punished if they hear you talking like that”

“I'm not claiming anything! I'm just saying it's weird how much time he spent around them”

“They were reviewing the structure of the akademiya”

“Sure, and my wife and I were just studying so many years ago”

“Profesor…”

"that is why my daughter was finishing highschool when we both published our thesis. We were 38 but you get the point"

"professor please... Stop..."

It has been a running rumor for a few months, but nobody really believes it, the stone faced great sage and their welcoming grace? No, never, impossible. There are scholars attempting to refute it but their attempts are short-lived as a few months later you settle back in sumeru, and your lazyly hanging robe you wear now is pushed slightly forward around the abdomen, just enough for it to be an untold fact.

“Why am I returning? I guess it just felt right, given everything” slowly after the theory took traction.

On the later months the baby gets calm whenever he is read books, the kicking stopping for as long as anyone recited paragraphs of dense knowledge, it was a common occurrence for you to tag along thesis defenses, something that professors enjoyed the opportunity of chat you up and students suddenly put delays because of sickness on masse.

“I wonder why they are all so nervous to defend their statement! I don't even ask them questions for them to be scared of me!”

“I think regardless of what you did or didn't do any of them would be at ease”

“And I heard they sit through thesis defenses and lectures because the child is calm hearing long speeches”

“I heard that too! I even heard that once they summoned one of the great sages to read a book so they could fall asleep”

“Really! Could it be…” the teen girl looks at her friend mischievously “great sage al haitham?” Making her friend look away feigning not knowing.

°•°

“I'm extremely sorry for calling you so late, Haitham” you lay on your bed, back flush against the wall. The covers on your lap make little to cover the almost watermelon sized bump “I attempted to read to see if he calmed down on his own but when I stop he starts kicking up a storm”

Alhaitham drags your vanity stool to your bedside, a soft creaking sound coming from the friction between the woods. He just hums as he skims the bookshelf “don't fret so much, it's only natural for me to do this” his fingers dance softly caressing the spines of various books ranging from Inazuma novellas to published investigation on bird care “what has been working best? Early language dictionary? Transcripts of old manuscripts?”

“alchemical botany has been doing alright”

“great, it's coming out to be a spantamad or amurta. I'm sure Tighnari and Cyno will be elated with the news” he rolls his eyes and pulls out a leather bound book with vine engraving.

“Aww, is someone jealous?”

“I'm just saying that something like ‘development of runic language during the last 300 years’ might be more interesting” you just snicker “weren't you attempting to sleep? Close your eyes”

You side down the pillows with a smile on your lips “fine, if you don't want to read alchemical botany why don't you use the white book?” as he glances over he read the simple title ‘weight distribution in columns depending on materials’ and sighs heavily.

“Spantamad might not be so bad.”

There is a small whisper in the last few months that the child could be meant to be one of the great sages but the matra keeps it down when someone starts with it.

When he is born Alhaitham reads to his son some of the books he kept from his parents.

The one year old is perched on his lap, leaning against one of his arms while they both look at the book, one of them reading attentively the words and explaining some concepts while the other is attempting to fall asleep.

“I doubt he is truly listening to you”

“You would be surprised by how much the biology faculty showed children can learn before school”

“I believe they meant before the 5 years mark, not 6 months”

Maybe even wants you to do something similar, it could be an essay, thesis or even storybook but he would want it to have some banter between you two or little comments like “it's good that you remembered to spell correctly postganglionic fibers, I don't have to correct you anymore”

He uses kaveh as an underpaid nanny just plopping the toddler on his lap and leaving without saying a word. He does stop when his son's drawings start to feature more houses and structures than people.

“Are we sure he is mine?”

“For the sixth time, yes. He is a carbon copy of you”

When your baby grows he is the smartest of his class, reciting everything his father read to him since before his birth, even if he refuses to acknowledge it al haitham is really proud of his son and his little shelf with math Olympics medals or the certificate he got from the first place in a writing competition.

Even then the moment your son turns 18 and has to decide what branch he wants to go into is the hardest week of his life, dreading the possibility of another architect in his life. He is quite happy when he choses spantamad, even if he would have like him to go for haravatat.