#desire being like why are you hitting yourself? while wacking him in the head

[cuubism]

I see your "Dream yelling at Desire because 'how dare you make me have feelings for Hob!!'" and raise you "Dream yelling at Desire because 'how dare you make Hob have feelings for me!!'" because it's the only logical explanation for why Hob would claim to want someone like Dream

[ cat screaming crying . jpg ]

Dream storms into Desire’s realm, steps thudding on the uneven floor, rage propelling him forward. He cannot remember ever feeling such anger, such betrayal towards his sibling, not even when he had learned they were behind his imprisonment.

Desire’s games have always gone too far, but this is beyond trying to teach him a lesson, this is beyond what Dream can reconcile, this is simply cruelty.

“YOU,” he thunders, the air shaking around him as he stalks up to where Desire is lying casually on a chaise lounge as if they haven’t just ripped Dream’s one comfort in this life out from under him. “How dare you.”

“Brother, dear,” drawls Desire, popping a grape into their mouth with not a care in the world, “it is rude to simply fly in without even knocking on the door. You wouldn’t like it if I did it to you.”

Blind with fury, Dream grabs them by the throat and hauls them to their feet. Desire lets out a choked gasp, genuinely startled by his vitriol. Their pulse trips under Dream’s thumb.

Desire cannot be killed through something as simple as strangulation, but it truly is tempting to try. “What,” Dream snarls, grip tightening, “what have you done to Hob Gadling?”

Desire blinks at him, torn from their alarm by confusion. “Whomst? Listen, I know you know everybody’s name and their kinkiest fantasy but I honestly can’t be bothered with the details, you’re going to have to fill me in.”

The rage in Dream’s core only flares hotter. “Enough of this charade, you know exactly what you’ve done.”

“No, seriously, I have no idea what you’re—”

Dream whirls away, leaving his sibling staggering in the wake of his grasp. “Was it not enough?” he demands, staring sightlessly into the gleaming red curves of Desire’s realm. “Was the vortex not enough? Was a century of imprisonment not enough for you?” His voice cracks halfway through, and it’s mortifying. “Truly, your hatred of me is untempered by even the slightest compassion.”

Desire’s voice is quizzical when they next speak. “I am starting to wish I was behind whatever this is that seems to have pierced you straight through the heart. I’m afraid my own arrows have missed that organ thus far.”

“Hob Gadling,” Dream insists, but Desire’s seemingly-genuine confusion has him wavering. It’s not like them not to revel in their own victory, and oh, this has been a victory, Dream feels laid lower than even a century in a cage had managed. “You are manipulating him.”

“Once again, I don’t know who that is. But he’s clearly excellent ammunition so I’m certainly going to find out once you leave.”

Dream flexes his hands at his sides, summoning his control. If Desire truly was not behind this, then he’s already made a mistake in coming here. Best not to offer anything else.

Being in Desire’s realm makes this stoicism difficult. The very space brings emotions to the surface, drags feelings up from his stomach that he’s tried so very hard to tamp down. He tastes blood at the back of his throat, his stomach churns, his skin prickles with sweat.

Desire stalks up behind him, sensing all of this. “Now I am curious,” they murmur, dragging a finger up his shoulder, over the collar of his coat and along the back of his neck. “Now I must know what’s go you so riled up.”

“You think you have earned such things?” Dream says through gritted teeth. His heart is pounding hard and uneven such that it physically hurts in his chest, the weight of the Threshold bearing down.

“No need to earn, you can hide nothing from me here.” Desire circles around him to his front, dragging their finger along his collarbone until it lands right at the base of his throat. They look at him from under their lashes, all smug satisfaction. “You are all tangled up in the realm of Desire, aren’t you?”

Dream moves to storm off, but Desire blocks him, nails pressing into his skin.

“Nah-ah, no running away. Let your little sibling help you, hm? As you may know, I am rather wise in matters of the heart.”

The look on Desire’s face is craftiness, glee, not charity or wisdom.

“I neither need nor wish for your assistance,” says Dream, voice hard. “On this, or any other matter.”

“But there is a matter.” Desire leans in and speaks right in his ear. “I can smell the heartsickness on you, Dream.”

There is nothing Dream can say in response to this. Any denial would only be read as falsehood, for Desire does not lie – of late, Dream feels sick with wanting in Hob’s presence, hunger so sharp it turns over into nausea, much like the first time Hob had pushed him to eat after his captivity. How cruel, then, to have his pain eased, his desires sated by a reciprocation that cannot possibly be truly felt.

There is nothing to say, so Dream doesn’t speak. Silence, of course, is its own answer.

“You know, if there’s one thing I have always admired about you, big brother, it’s your willingness to destroy yourself for the sake of passion,” Desire continues. “You’d think that’d be my sort of thing. Who’ve you lost yourself on this time? Demigod? Demon? Dryad? Vampire?”

Dream glares at them, but does not speak.

Desire’s face absolutely lights up as they realize. “Oh. My. God. Is he human? Dreeaaammmmm, my my, maybe your little time out did change you, after all.”

Dream turns away, refusing to give them the satisfaction of confirming. Though he knows this reaction is also a confirmation.

Desire claps their hands. “Oh! I’m so proud of myself. Look at this! Look at the softness of your heart. Look how I can bruise it.”

Dream’s heart, indeed, gives a painful thump. “Should you dare to touch him, even the old laws will not protect you.”

Desire sighs, flopping back onto a couch, legs crossed, head propped in their hand. “Why bother? You’ll destroy it yourself, and that’ll be much more fun.”

I hate you, Dream thinks, like a petulant child. He hates, also, how any argument with Desire makes him feel that way, feelings crowding at the surface of his skin, throat tightening, mind spinning in a chaotic churn. His muscles clench so hard he thinks they might have snapped, were he human, then he forces himself back into a semblance of ease.

There is no extracting himself from this situation with any dignity.

“Interfere with my affairs again,” he warns darkly, “and I will destroy you.”

Then he storms out of the Threshold.

“Love you too!” Desire calls after him, a grin in their voice. “Good luck with your human!”

--

When he’d found Hob at the New Inn, thirty-three years after he’d meant to arrive, Dream had not known how he might be received. Friendship extended once may not be extended again after so brutal a rejection, and so prolonged an absence, no matter that the latter offense was not within his control.

Being met with a smile, then, and an easy acceptance of his apology, like Hob had already forgiven him long before Dream had stepped through the door, had been a revelation. Something had settled in him that he had not known was knocked askew. Could there, truly, be one thing in his life that was allowed to be easy? Where Dream’s missteps were not met with scorn or vitriol or world-shaking consequences, but with grace and the chance to try again?

It seemed improbable, but still Dream had grabbed for it with cold, shaking fingers. Had held that unlikely flame between his palms. Had watched as it grew, hotter and brighter with each smile Hob sent his way, with each gentle brush of fingers as he pressed cups of tea into Dream’s hands, with the hug Hob finally managed to wind him into, once Dream had told him of the true reason for his absence in 1989.

Hob’s grace, Hob’s generosity in inviting someone, something like him into his home, into his life… Dream did not quite know how to hold it, so unlikely it was. He tried, though, oh he tried. And he swore he would not mess it up, not like he had when Hob had first offered his friendship.

He has now, quite royally, messed it up.

He very much doubts Hob will be so generous this time.

He finds Hob where he left him, sitting on the couch in his flat, a book in his hand. He doesn’t seem to be concentrating on it; his thoughts feel scattered in ragged, disturbed daydreams.

He doesn’t even startle when Dream materializes next to him. Though he knows it can be startling to humans, Dream has not been able to break himself of just appearing where he needs to – traversing the long way from point to point is not how he works. But aside from the occasional, teasing, I have a door, you know, Hob never truly complains about these disturbances to his day.

Dream means to offer him an apology. To say, I should not have walked out when you said that you loved me. To say, I am supposed to be better, I am trying to be better.

Instead, just as Hob looks up, the words that trip out of Dream’s mouth, pushed by the flurry of Desire’s realm still pounding within him, are, “Did you speak truly, Hob Gadling?”

Which is a ridiculous question. Dream does not think he has ever heard Hob speak a lie. Still, Dream must have the answer.

Hob’s expression shifts through several incarnations, none of which Dream feels capable of reading. Finally, it settles on the same soft, exasperated understanding Dream remembers being presented with when he’d said, I know thirty years is truly quite late, at their reunion, before he’d told Hob why he was late.

Grace, then. He is to be offered grace, again.

His emotions are still so close to the surface that he has to physically swallow down what he feels about that.

“Of course, I did,” Hob says, and there’s a hint of nerves in it, but he pushes through, he always does. “I wouldn’t lie to you about that.”

His gaze is genuine, open, and no, Desire had not lied – Hob’s feelings are no manipulation of theirs. And while it is tempting to search for other answers, spells or illusions or any number of other causes, Dream knows, deep down, that he will come up empty.

Hob’s feelings are true, are his truth, confounding though that is.

Dream no longer feels capable of holding any of this in his hands.

Instead, he kisses him.

It’s like he is pulled forward by a force outside his own body. He goes to Hob like he had gone to the sugar in the tea Hob had made him, that night at the inn when Dream had first realized how long it had truly been since he’d eaten; he goes to him like he had gone back to the Dreaming after being freed, returning home breathless, lost, changed.

Hob catches him against his mouth, hands cradling Dream’s face. His grip is solid and warm, and he kisses Dream like he looks at him like he speaks to him, with a care Dream hardly knows how to accept. He leans into it anyway, he leans in.

“I wasn’t fishing for a kiss when I said that, you know,” Hob says when they part, still lingering close enough that Dream can feel his heat, his breath. “I meant it in more of— well, that way, for certain, but really, any way you wanted to take it.”

“Any way,” Dream repeats, not sure he comprehends Hob’s meaning.

“Yeah, you—” Hob cuts himself off, letting out a breath, thinking. His hands slide from Dream’s face down to his shoulders, and he holds him there. “I. You just. I want you to know that you’re loved. Not demanding anything of it. Just telling you. Take it however serves you best.”

Dream stares at him, his whole being tripped and restarted at a new rhythm, and Hob gives him a sad smile.

“It’s too big to hold,” he says, and taps his chest. “In here. And besides, I wanted you to have it.”

Dream had had it. Only he hadn’t quite known what he had. The sunshine of Hob’s smiles, sustaining him, a bridge between distant points of light.

Finally, he manages to say, “I felt it. You have been my succor. My… only.”

Hob has captured him more effectively than Burgess’s snare, but this capture is not a prison. It hurts, oh, it aches, but it never wounds.

Hob smiles at him again. There’s still something pained in the creases around his eyes. “I know.”

He’s still touching Dream. His hands run over him, up his neck, over his throat, along his collarbone, and—

catch, on the collar of his shirt, above his heart.

“What happened?”

His voice is tight, now, worried, and— yes. There are bruises on Dream’s chest, crawling up over his breastbone. He had felt them form, and hadn’t stopped them.

Hob’s expression darkens further the longer he looks; he drags the collar of Dream’s shirt down, trying to see how far the damage spreads. “You’ve got bruises all over you. Dream, what happened?”

What happened is Dream stood in the Threshold and his heart beat so hard it drummed right through to the surface of his skin. What happened is it hurt so badly his form shifted to give reason for the pain.

“Desire,” he says, and he does not mean his sibling.

Hob doesn’t seem to understand, but he smoothes a hand over Dream’s heart as if to wipe the bruises away. Dream could will his body to return to its original, unharmed state, but he does not. He lets the blood stay pooled beneath his skin.

Hob sighs, tugging Dream’s coat tighter around him, shielding him from further injury. “Come here, you. You strange creature.”

He pulls Dream in, though he does not have to pull hard. Dream tucks his face into Hob’s neck, reveling in the warm scent of him, woodsmoke from the fireplace down in the inn where they’ve now spent many a long evening, basking in the heat of the flames. Hob’s arms go around him.

Absolution. Dream does not think this is a gift that has ever been granted to him.

“I would also love you,” he says. “If you would accept it.”

“If I would accept it?” Hob repeats. “Darling, your love is a privilege.”

Dream’s heart, in all its bruises and blood, finds rhythm again, and he thinks, though he certainly doesn’t pull away from Hob to check, that his skin clears up partway, too.

[toruhalo]

Dead (Jerome Valeska x Reader)

Request: “I’m scared…” & “Let go of me!” x Jerome Valeska

Word Count: 1293

send a prompt! // masterlist

A/N: My mind went blank on this one but I think it turned out good, I hope you like it! contains spoilers if you haven’t seen season 3 of gotham

Dwight had an obsession with everything Jerome ever did or had in his life, including you. He desperately desired what you and Jerome had shared. Even all of Gotham City could see how Jerome cherished you while he was being broadcasted on live television. You and Jerome had been dating not too long before Theo Galavan murdered him, right in front of you.

After Jerome’s eyes were deemed lifeless, you sobbed uncontrollably. The only person who ever cared about you, who ever listened, was dead. The screams ripped its way from your throat, startling everyone in the room.

Theo grabbed both of your hands and forcefully gripped you in front of himself, “He’s in a better place now... Gotham simply wasn’t ready for someone like Jerome,” he whispered.

“Let go of me! I’ll kill you!” You scream. Seeing Barbara promptly flee the scene, you quickly bite down on Theo’s arm and follow her out.

You ran to Theo’s penthouse as soon as you fled the building, gathering your belongings along with Jerome’s. Tears blurred your vision by the time you arrived at Selena’s place, waiting for her to get back.

The night he died, you didn’t get involved in crime anymore, besides helping Selina occasionally whom you lived with.

Dwight somehow discovered where you were living and he offered you to help lead ‘Jerome’s Cult’. Initially you were hesitant seeing as people were worshipping your dead boyfriend. Eventually, you agreed after Dwight had told you about the plan to bring Jerome back to life.

After months of planning and experimenting, you went with Dwight to finally attempt to bring Jerome back. You had been holding in your excitement of seeing his body ever since helped steal it from the Wayne Enterprises facility, trying not to get your hopes up. While Dwight was busy figuring out what was going on with the equipment, you found yourself slowly stroking Jerome’s hair to help calm yourself down.

“No,” Dwight startles you and fixates on Jerome’s face, whispering eagerly to him.

“What’s happen-” You begin to ask, but you’re cut off by Gus walking in.

“I just heard from our guy in the GCPD. They’ve got our location. The others are gonna wait for us at the rendezvous,” he pauses, “He’s still dead.”

“I know he’s still dead. I ran into some technical difficulties. Nothing that I can’t fix,” Dwight responds.

The two start to argue, and Gus begins to rant about how Dwight promised to show the people Jerome’s face. Dwight suddenly shifts and electrocutes him with a massive surge, killing him instantly. Your eyes widen and decide not to comment.

“You know, you make an interesting point,” Dwight grabs a scalpel from a nearby tray, “They want to see… your face.” He moves the sharp object to Jerome’s forehead, and you smack it out of his hands onto the floor.

“Are you crazy?! You can’t take his face!” You scream. Dwight sighs and obtains something off a table, walking toward you until you back up into a shelf. You strike him harshly on his cheek, causing him to laugh creepily. He punches your face, making you fall onto the floor with a throbbing cheekbone.

Dwight zip-ties your hands together and whispers, “I’m the new Jerome… That means you’re mine now.”

After Dwight finished cutting he forcefully tugged you on your feet, making you hold Jerome’s bleeding face in your hands all the way to the cult’s hideout. Dwight kept you locked up until it was time to head to the Channel 9 news station. Eventually, the GCPD arrived and handled the situation, and began escorting the people to police cars including Dwight and yourself. The two of you were almost in the cop car when suddenly the police officers dropped dead behind you.

“Hiya doll,” a cracky voice whispers in your ear. You sharply turn around and recognize Jerome in a GCPD uniform with a heavily bandaged face.

“JEROME!” you exclaim before hugging him. You look behind him to see Dwight looking both frightened and joyful. Jerome gently pulls you off of him, promising to kiss you later. He then leads you and Dwight to his stolen news station van full of explosives, ordering Dwight to get in the back.

You couldn’t stop smiling ever since Jerome whispered in your ear, and Jerome could tell how happy you were. The whole car ride he intentionally kept his right hand on your thigh, reassuring you he was alive.

Inside the power plant, the explosives were all set and Jerome found a stapler to use. He sashayed up to you, collecting the bag holding his face and whispered, “What happened to your eye?” You looked into his worry filled green eyes and switched your sight to the other man in the room who was looking around nervously. Jerome followed your direct line of vision and grumbled to himself.

“Cutting my face off is nothing compared to hitting you.”

You stood stunned as he walked away to staple his skin back together. You never saw him this protective before his death, but you sure weren’t complaining.

“So… How’s it look?” Jerome asked when he was finished. You give him two thumbs up.

Dwight reassures him.

Jerome’s smile drops, “You wouldn’t lie to me, right, Dwight?”

Dwight shakes with fear while trying to console him.

Jerome lets out a small chuckle before spinning to set up a chair.

“Say… You’re not mad, are you?” Dwight questions.

“Mad? What could I possibly be mad about? Huh?” Jerome wondered as he continues setting up.

“You know, the whole cutting off your face.”

“Ah. Oh, buddy… You brought me back from the dead. What’s a cut off face between friends?” Jerome taps his face to perk him up.

After they finished talking, you grew puzzled. You didn’t know what Jerome’s plan was, but you were hoping it involved Dwight’s death.

Abruptly, Jerome wacks Dwight on the side of his head, “Have a seat, ol’ buddy ol’ pal…”

You briskly grab nearby thin rope to bind Dwight to the chair while he’s groaning in pain. Jerome gathers extra dynamite and bombs to strap to Dwight’s chest, laughing maniacally while doing so. While Jerome gathers the rest of the gasoline barrels, you see the police hat Jerome was wearing and set it atop Dwight’s head for a finishing touch.

“Nice job, beautiful,” Jerome kisses you. “Now, let’s get this party started.” He turns the camera on, pointing it in the direction of Dwight and himself.

You stand behind the camera, not wanting to interrupt Jerome’s moment. He begins telling Gotham to go crazy during the blackout, igniting the fuse to the explosives strapped to Dwight. Jerome quickly grasps your hand and starts to walk out before stopping beside the man strapped in the chair.

“Oh, and, uh…” Jerome snaps his fingers to recall his name.

“Dwight.”

“I don’t forgive you for punching my girlfriend in the face,” he says grimly before breaking out in laughter, tugging you along with him outside.

The two of you rush to the van and Jerome steps on the gas, speeding out of the area. You make it a safe enough distance away before he stops the van to hop out and you naturally follow.

“C’mon, let’s watch.”

He wraps his arm around you while giggling to himself. Without warning, the power plant they were just in blows up. Slowly the lights within the city turn off one by one. Jerome shakes you with excitement, but you weren’t sharing his enthusiasm.

“Why the long face?” Jerome pulls you into him.

“I’m scared… I’m scared that you’ll drop dead any second and I'll be alone again,” you sob into his chest.

“Shh… Don’t worry, gorgeous. I’m not going anywhere.”

[sleepyveon]

Bound - F!Reader x V

( originally posted on Ao3 but thought i should post it here too )

Light rays shine through the parted area of the curtain covering the broken window, hitting upon your sleeping eyes. Feeling the sudden warmth on them, they slowly start to crack open. Darkness still mostly consumed the room but the little amount of sunshine let you see that you were in a bedroom. You shifted a bit before realizing that someone was holding you close.

Your heart began to race while blood rushed to your cheeks, not being used to this type of psychical contact. This tender warmness.. Who was giving it to you..? Even though you could barely see, you knew immediately who it was the moment you saw their dark locks resting gracefully on his cheeks.

It was V.

The goth poetry reader demon hunter. Here he was, holding you close as though there was no tomorrow.

His soft breaths hitting your forehead, face resting in peaceful bliss. As you try to calm yourself, you try to remember as to why you were here. Not that you are against it. Ah that's right, you wanted to stop by this abandoned building to rest up since you've been hunting all day and you both were too tired to head back to Nico's van. Although that doesn't explain as why he's holding you since the last place you remember him being is sitting next to the bed, reading his book as always.

As though he noticed you awake, he began to stir as well. Your eyes locked with his as they began to crack, then slightly shoot open. You swore you saw a hint of red on his pale cheeks as he tried to hide his surprise by failing to keep a calm look. Being just woken up, it took a second to collect his thoughts and memories from last night.

"My apologies Y/N. I don't know what came over me." His eyes averted yours, trying to escape the situation. "I shall take my leave, pardon me-" As he tried to shift away, you grab ahold of him by his arm, stopping him mid sentence. He didn't look your way, feeling shameful for his actions. He fell for his temptation for you and held you in your sleep. He craved for your touch, he couldn't stop himself as he held you, cherishing your sweet intoxicating scent. He promised himself he would pull away, only hold you for a couple of seconds. He went back on it immediately, he just couldn't. He couldn't and now feels ashamed for it. Why were you holding him back? Why aren't you feeling disgusted or mad even? These thoughts raced through his mind so quick.

You stayed silent as you pulled him which caused his back to fall back onto the bed. As he flopped back onto the mattress, he had a visible look of confusion. You laid half of your body on top of him, placing your elbows on both sides of his face. Your feelings for him raged and made you feel bold, just for now. Your face slowly got closer to his, eyes being connected as though you both were looking into each others souls. Chests being pressed together, you both could feel the others heartbeat race as your lips were mere millimeters apart. You were finally about to kiss him-

" Up and at em! You guys are slacking off way too long! " Griffon squawked loudly as he flapped his large wings to glide in. He immediately shut up the moment he saw you laying on top of his master, both looking at him with astonishment. He let out a burst of laughter, not believing what's happening in front of him. " Pfttt- Holy shit V! You're finally pulling moves on her? About time! Or well, seems like she's the one that had to make the first move."

God you wanted to shoot that bird, and so did V. Throwing death glares at the demonic bird, he slowly calmed down his cackling. " Ok ok sorry about ruining this special tender moment between you love birds~." he says in a mocking lovely dovey way. "It's about time you got laid V, you need it." You could hear his chuckles fade as he quickly flapped out of there before V could wack him with his cane.

You sighed, the intense moment ruined by that stupid chicken.  The fire in you started cooling down so you embarrassingly pulled away from the goth beneath you. Somehow from Griffon pushing his buttons, determination filled him. He couldn't let this chance go. As he placed his pointer and middle fingers under your chin, he sat up, guiding your face to look at him once again. Just when you were about to question him, that's when it finally happened. Both your lips touched.

His lips were smooth and tender. Your eyes open in shock but slowly started to close. Cherishing this moment you tilted your head wanting to press the kiss deeper. V held you close, wrapping an arm around your wait as the other was place behind your head. He slowly stroked your hair as you both held onto the kiss. It felt like a century just you both in loving embrace but eventually it was put on pause so you could catch your breath.

He look a look at your flustered features and gave a slight smirk. He felt proud that he finally did it. He finally got his feelings across.

Seeing him back to his usual proud self, you rested your head on his shoulder wanting to hide your shyness.

" I guess.. We are a thing now?" you manage to whisper out while looking over his chest tattoos. He began to run his hand gently over your neck examining your body so up close. " I believe we are, if that is what you desire." he replies in a soft tone. He didn't want to make you uncomfortable, even if it was obvious that you both had feelings for each other.

You nod and buried your head into his neck. You were extremely happy that you guys are a couple now but you felt too flustered to display it. Honestly, so was he.

"So be it my sweet. Your body and soul belong to me now."

[chipsandwaffles]

courtship (1/2)

Synopsis: Princes, kings, dukes, and lords alike have all asked for your hand in marriage, but none of them have impressed you. Until now, of course. Member: Taeyong/Reader Word Count: 5365 Notes: My first year anniversary on this blog is coming up, and with a new year comes new things. Like my fic format! So here’s some new shit :D. A fic for my dear buddy Carmen who requested it from me because I owed her. Part 2 will come eventually. ;) Enjoy ^^ Part 1 | Part 2

Once upon a time, there was a snobby, stuck up princess. She wanted everything and anything, from food to jewels to expensive clothes, even to the best servants. She wanted everything, and she got what she wanted. 

This want was only intensified by the princes, the dukes, and the lords who all wanted her hand in marriage, offering magnificent gifts in exchange for her love. While they knew she might have been snobby and wanted anything and everything, the princess was a strong ally to have, she was beautiful, and had a kingdom that others envied with how powerful and luxurious it was. 

But, the princess wasn't going to settle for just anyone. She wanted someone who would only keep her kingdom as powerful as it was, for when she took it over from her parents, it wouldn't crumble. In addition to wanting someone who could help her kingdom keep growing, she wanted someone she could love in the process. She didn't want a business marriage, she wanted a real marriage.  

And, so far, the princess hadn’t found anyone she really liked, even if they had the best gift. No one interested her enough, no matter how far and wide they came from, and she sent each of them away after they had given her a gift. She was thankful to keep them, but she was hoping someone would come along and woo not just her desires, but her heart as well.  

And, soon, the princess would get what she wanted.  

- 

“The Neo Kingdom?” You stare at your little brother, the only prince who could truly capture your heart, Jisung. He nods his head and yawns, digging through the pocket of his pants for a moment. He pulls out a letter, a little crumpled and ragged from being in his pocket no doubt. You take the letter from him, seeing the wax seal on the back with the Neo Kingdom's crest, realizing what it was. You didn’t even have to read it to know they were asking for a hearing, one where they presented gifts and tried to gain your affections.  

“Who are they exactly?” you ask Jisung. You had only heard of the Neo Kingdom in passing, once, when the lords from the Exo Kingdom had come for your hand in marriage. Something about them being allies and having many princes, but you knew nothing beyond that. Maybe Jisung would know, but, you really doubt that. All the button prince did all day was sleep and run off with the knights to play around. If anyone was going to know, it was going to be the young knight, Haechan.  

“Ahh, you’d have to ask Haechan…” Jisung confirms for you, rubbing the back of his neck. “I was only the messenger.”  

“Of course you were. How did you even get the letter in the first place?”  

“Renjunnie has a cousin in the Neo Kingdom apparently,” Jisung explains. “One of the princes. He gave him the letter to give to you, but Renjun has been sick so he gave it to Haechan to give it to you, but then Haechan wanted you to come to him so you had to ask who they were so he gave it to me to give to you… you know how he’s always trying to impress you.”  

You giggle at Haechan's attempt at getting you to notice him, finding the whole roundabout way of giving you the letter quite ridiculous. But it was cute, so you weren't going to really complain.  

“What are we waiting for then? Let’s go see Haechan.”  

- 

Haechan is sitting in the dark of his shared quarters he has with the other knights, three chairs in the middle of the room, a table between them, with candles giving enough light to add to the mysterious atmosphere. If you didn't have a complete soft spot for the little knights, you would've just had Jisung light some more candles.  

But, you were soft, so you take a seat across from Haechan and next to Jisung, humoring the young knight.  

"What is the information you seek?" Haechan asks in a low voice, as if he's some wack fortune teller or something. It makes you laugh as you slide the Neo Kingdom's letter across the table.  

"Tell me all about the Neo Kingdom. Since they're coming to see me. Who's crown prince?" You ask. Haechan folds his hands together on the table and nods his head, thinking for a moment. You wait patiently, letting the knight think over whatever he's going to say. 

"The Neo Kingdom... They're an interesting kingdom," he starts. You keep yourself from saying something snarky, allowing Haechan to continue. "They're a kingdom with many royal families. Rather than one crown prince, there's, hmm... Five? I believe. Their ancestors set their kingdom up that way so that there could be many opinions to make their kingdom better... Something like that. They're a very prosperous kingdom, actually. Somehow that whole setup worked." 

Haechan pauses for a moment to tap his chin, once again in thought. In the quiet, you hear soft snoring coming from your left. You look to see Jisung with his head down, dozing off at the explanation. 

Only the button prince could doze off so easily.  

"I think there actually used to be six royal families... Or, one of the princes is... sick? He's been out of the public eye for a long time, so I think he's sick." 

"Six royal families? How do they- I don't see how that could work. If I had competition as queen I would hate that," you say, sitting back in your chair and crossing your arms. Haechan snorts and sits back as well. 

"You're a snob, so of course you'd hate that. I think they're all humble or something. They work really well together? Like, me and Mark. Or Jisung and Chenle." 

"I work well with people too," you pout. Haechan laughs.  

"Yes, princess. But not if they threaten your princess title," Haechan says. "I don't see why everyone wants your hand in marriage when you're so... bratty." 

You can't help it when you hit Haechan, your fist connecting with the top of his head. He whines and holds the place where you hit, waking up Jisung in the process. You had a soft spot, but it only went so far. You stand up and collect your letter, glaring at Haechan.  

"I'm a nice princess. I work hard and I make good relationships with other kingdoms; ones that are powerful. Everyone wants my hand in marriage because they know I'm a powerful and resourceful ally to have." 

"They don’t want you for you though." 

You hit Haechan again, not even thinking about apologizing and taking your leave from the knight's quarters. Jisung calls after you, but you don't pay attention, stalking off to the gardens to go sulk.  

Haechan wasn't necessarily wrong. Most of the royalty that came to ask for your hand wanted you as an ally or a trophy wife. A princess they could show off to others for being so powerful.  

You wanted that too, of course, an ally that would only help your kingdom grow, but love... 

That was something you had always yearned for.  

"Princess Y/N!" You turn around to face another of your knights, Mark, who had taken you away from your thoughts. You were glad for that, not wanting to get too far into a dark rabbit hole.  

"Yes, Mark?"  

"Ahh, Kei is here for your afternoon tea together." 

"Princess Kei- oh my god! This is the best news I've heard all day." You had completely forgotten about your afternoon tea together with Kei, a blessing after that visit with Haechan. You were going to forget about the Neo Kingdom for now, starting with their letter.  

"Mark, take this letter. Have it sent back to the Neo Kingdom with a date for next week. Any day will do. While you're at it, have the maids set up tea in the garden and let Kei know I'll be there," you tell Mark. He bows to you and takes the letter from your hands.  

"As you wish princess." 

"Thank you, Mark." 

- 

The princes from the Neo Kingdom arrive Monday of the following week, only with two carriages and a few bags. Nothing spectacular looking comes out of their carriages as you watch them from a window in one of the towers, and you wonder if they've even brought you any gifts.  

How were they supposed to ask for your hand in marriage if they didn't bring anything in exchange? 

You stop your thoughts for a moment, realizing that sounded really, really, really selfish. Haechan’s words echo in the back of your head – they don’t want you for you though. A bitter taste fills your mouth and you turn away from the princes below, finding Mark on then other side of the hallway.  

“Princess, the princes from the Neo Kingdom have arrived. The throne room is ready for you.”  

You thank Mark and he begins to take his leave, back to where the other knights were waiting outside. He’s halfway out the door when you call his name, and he looks back at you with a smile on his face.  

“Yes, princess?”  

You contemplate your choice of words, even though you know Mark isn’t going to judge you for anything you say.  

Not like Haechan, that little punk.  

“Um… do you think anyone is going to want to marry me- I mean, marry me for me, and not just because I have a powerful influence,” you ask. You’re already twiddling your thumbs, nervous about what Mark would say. If humble, courageous, simple, sweet, kind Mark said there was no chance for you, then you were truly doomed and Haechan was right.  

“Huh? Of course princess. Why wouldn’t anyone love you? You’re great! You’re kind, and thoughtful. Very smart and tactful. I think whoever married you would love you for your power and resourcefulness too. They’re good qualities, princess. Really, I think anyone would be lucky to have you.”  

You smile at Mark and hold back a few tears as you make your way over to the young knight. You pull him into a crushing hug, glad that he could say all those things about you in a sincere manner. It made you happy to know that eventually, you could find love. If Mark believed it, you had to believe it too. 

“Princess, we should get going,” Mark says. You sniffle and pull away from him, nodding.  

“Yes yes. Let’s go.”  

- 

You sit on your chair in the throne room, watching as each prince from the Neo Kingdom steps in. They're dressed far more casually than you expected, but as they enter you realize it's their style. You prefer more dressier clothes, but they still looked nice. 

Especially one of the princes with silver hair and a strong jaw. He's the only one that really catches your eye, even if they are all beautiful. He just stands out the most to you.  

He has no gift with him, however, so you're curious to know what he was going to offer to you.  

"I'm Princess Y/N. I trust you've all brought gifts to try and obtain my hand in marriage. Whoever is first, you may proceed," you announce to the princes. They disperse to the sides and leave one man standing in the middle.  

He's a short man, with sharp cheekbones and a bad haircut, and you sigh, already leaning on your throne chair, placing your chin in your hand and your elbow on the arm of your chair in boredom. Not your type, as handsome as he was.  

"Princess, I'm the oldest and the second prince of the Neo Kingdom, Moon Taeil. I present to you this expensive piece from my family's collection, in hopes that perhaps you will accept me."  

Taeil pulls out a shiny tiara, adorned with many jewels that glimmers in the sunlight, and it immediately perks your interest. The ones who weren't your type always had the shiniest things.  

You gesture for one of your knights, Jeno, to bring it to you. He takes it from Taeil and comes to kneel beneath you, letting you take it into your hands. The tiara is far more beautiful up close, and your mouth practically salivates just staring at it. There was no way you were going to accept his proposal, but fuck, you wanted the tiara.  

Some princes were nice enough to just gift you their family heirlooms, but, you're pretty sure he wouldn't.  

You sigh in defeat and hand the tiara back to Jeno, letting him take it back over to Taeil.  

"I apologize, but as beautiful as your tiara is... I can't accept your proposal. You're not quite what I want." Taeil bows to you, looking ready to sulk off. You roll your eyes and move back to your previous position, your chin in your hand and your elbow on the arm of your chair.  

"Whoever accepts that tiara I'm sure will love you until the end of time. That someone is just not me."  

Taeil smiles and moves off to the side with the other princes. Another steps into the middle of the room. He's tall, very tall, with a big, goofy smile on his face as he steps forward. His hair isn't at all to your liking, too long for your taste. The Neo KIngdom should find a new person to style their hair, because so far you only really like one, and it's the silver haired boy.  

You blink a few times, realizing your eyes had wandered over to him and you quickly set your gaze back on the prince before you. He pulls off the piece of fabric wrapped around his neck and kneels before you, holding it out for Jeno to take.  

"Princess Y/N, I am Johnny Seo. I'm the sixth prince of the Neo Kingdom, and the tallest. I present to you the softest fabric from our kingdom. Even if you do not accept me, I am happy to let you have it." You already know you were going to deny Johnny, but Jeno takes the fabric for you anyways. The second it settles into your hands, your eyes are widening.  

You've been offered plenty of fabrics, clothes, and anything in between, but this was by far the softest you've ever felt. You thought your pillows and blankets had the softest, but this? This was on another level.  

"Who- oh my god, who made this? This is the softest thing I've ever felt- could I have my bed spread made out of this? And my pillows?" You ask. Johnny smiles at you and nods. 

"Anything you'd like princess." 

"...I won't accept you but I will pay whatever for more of this." 

Johnny laughs awkwardly and you give the fabric back to Jeno, instructing him to give it to another knight to hold onto. You definitely needed more of that fabric.  

Johnny steps off to the side after being denied, another man stepping into the middle of the room. He's lean, but he almost looks less like a prince and more like a kid pretending to be a prince. It makes you laugh as he bows to you. He looks up at hearing that, and glares at you.  

Whoops. 

"I'm Dong Sicheng, the third prince of the Neo Kingdom, and the youngest. For you I have the most delicious food in our kingdom, made by our servants, of course." A servant you hadn't noticed before comes forth then, presenting a tray for Jeno to take. He brings it forward to you, lifting the lid off of it and holding it out for you. 

You stare at it, gesturing for the prince who offered it to you to come eat it. No way were you going to try food from another kingdom, especially since the last time it happened they poisoned it and killed one of your servants.  

"Try this for me, Prince," you tell him.  

"What, you don't trust us?" He asks.  

"Absolutely not," you reply. He rolls his eyes and takes a piece of the food, putting it in his mouth and immediately chewing. He swallows, and a look of content crosses his face.  

"Ahh, really so good. If you aren't going to eat it, I will." 

You take the food and glare at Sicheng when no harm seems to come to him. "I will eat it, thank you. Learn some more manners, prince. Thank you for your gift." 

Sicheng rolls his eyes at you again and steps away from you, off to the sidelines with the other princes. You shove a piece of the food into your mouth in a less than polite manner, immediately melting at how good it tastes.  

How could all their things be so impressive, and yet the men weren't quite to your taste?  

It was a shame, really.  

The next prince steps forward, a portrait in his hand. He looks rather weak and timid, like maybe he's sick or something. He'd be prettier if he didn't look so sickly, that was for sure. Your eyes trail down to the portrait in his hands, and you notice after a second that it's of you. You stare in confusion at it. How did this prince ever have enough time to draw you?  

"When did you do this?" You interrupt before he can speak.  

He looks at you in confusion, fumbling over his words as the portrait is taken from him by Jeno. "Ah I- I copied it from one of the portraits in the Exo Kingdom- when I had learned it was you I thought maybe you'd like it as a gift."  

You nod your head in understanding, gesturing for him to continue with his greeting. 

"Oh- I'm Prince Ten, the fifth prince and the most artistic one of the Neo Kingdom. For you, the painting. Hopefully it's to your liking."  

You study the portrait as it comes closer, not finding much to be impressed about this time around. Plenty of princes have given you portraits, and you had your own portraits all over the castle. It was better than the one you knew of from the Exo Kingdom, but nothing more than that. You didn't need this one.  

If anything, you felt bad that the prince was here in the first place.  

"Why did you come?" You ask. The prince looks at you, frowning. "You look ready to keel over." 

"I came to ask for your hand- 

"Yes, well, you should go home and rest. A prince's first duty is to take care of his own health before anything else. Next prince."  

The prince bows once and hobbles to the sidelines, coughing as he goes. Ridiculous.  

The next one steps forward into the middle, but you see he's not a prince. The other princes were wearing similar clothes, different colors and different patterns, but similar nonetheless. You could tell they were princes by their clothing, but this one was different. He was wearing what generals and war leaders wore during meetings. You've seen similar clothes before on your own generals.  

You've never had a kingdom's general ask for your hand in marriage.  

He bows before you and speaks. "Princess Y/N, I am the first general of the Neo Kingdom, Kim Doyoung. In exchange for your hand, I offer you war strategies and our army. Having our kingdom in alliance with yours would only prove to further growth in both our kingdoms."  

You stare at the general and laugh. Okay, definitely not a marriage proposal in the least bit. This was asking for an alliance, and he wasn't even subtle about it.  

"You're asking for my hand in exchange for an alliance? If we were married, we would already have an alliance, would we not? You came to form an alliance under the guise of a marriage proposal." You laugh again. "Cute. After the hearing we will have to talk. About an alliance..." 

The general stands straight and you smile at his appearance. He definitely wasn't your type in the least bit – cute, but not your type. A little too hard around the edges, really. "Definitely not a marriage."  

The general bows and steps off. Having another alliance with a strong kingdom wasn't bad. If there was nothing that came out of this hearing besides that, you'd be okay with that.  

The next man steps forward, a prince again, you can see from his clothes. He's handsome, a face you find yourself staring at a little more than you should. His hair is actually nice, dark and cut well, framing his face nicely. You find yourself looking away as he presents his gift.  

"Good afternoon, Princess Y/N. I'm Jung Jaehyun, the fourth prince of the Neo Kingdom. For you, I heard you like reading, so I offer any book you'd like to read from our library at our castle. The library spans two floors, with over one hundred thousand books. Any of them for you."  

Your mouth drops at Jaehyun's offer. Expensive fabrics and beautiful jewels couldn't compare to the concept of knowledge. If what he was saying was true, you'd love to visit their library.  

Not to mention Jaehyun was so very attractive, someone you could see yourself being with.  

But just then, your eyes catch a glimpse of that silver hair, and you get a hold of yourself. You weren't going to give in so easily to this prince. 

But fuck if you weren't going to consider his offer.  

"This... is the first time I've ever done this, but I will consider your proposal. You will have to come around more often to win my affections. You understand?"  

Prince Jaehyun smiles, this soft, cute smile and you bite the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from smiling back. "Yes princess."  

You're thankful when he moves off to the side with the other princes, another suitor stepping forward. He's wearing similar fashion to the princes, but five have already presented gifts to you. He couldn't be a prince, because you're certain the silver haired man was the last prince.  

You stare at this one cautiously, watching as he holds a box in his hands and walks closer and closer to the throne. He gets close enough that Mark has to tell him to stop, a little too close for your liking. It was rather rude, if you thought about it.  

"Y/N, my name is Yuta," he says. He opens the box for you and pulls out a glass bottle. You cock an eyebrow at his informality and when all you see is milk. What kind of gift was this? What was he trying to do here? Was he mocking you? 

"I've brought you the finest milk our cows can offer," he says, a joking lilt in his voice. A glare settles on your face. "I milked it myself, princess."  

"Are you a stable boy, asking for my hand in marriage?" You ask. Yuta laughs.  

"Why of course, your highness. I thought maybe we could roam the stable together, hand in hand. Do you not like my gift?" He asks. Your nostrils flare as you stare at Yuta.  

How dare he. 

“Do you think this is a game?” You question, your tone laced with anger. The stable boy snorts, shrugging as he retracts his milk.  

“It was a joke. Can the bratty princess not take a joke?”  

“Yuta-!” You glance at the silver haired prince who hisses at the stable boy, looking unamused at his joke. You’re kind of disappointed that he couldn’t present his gift, but, you had other things to worry about. You couldn’t dwell on this prince, not when you had to deal with this nonsense.  

It was a shame. 

“You act like such high and mighty royalty. What have you even done besides take the gifts from other people? Huh? Cry about not getting the right fork for the right meal? “ Yuta laughs at his own joke, alone, everyone else staying quiet. They clearly had better manners than this peasant.  

“Do you know who I am?” You ask Yuta. You don’t give him enough time to answer. “I’m Princess Y/N. I’ve had kings and lords and dukes and princes ask for my hand in marriage for years. Do you know why, peasant? Because I’ve accomplished more things than you’ve done in your entire life. You milk cows and feed horses.  

“I’ve saved a city from crumbling to the ground. I brought peace between two kingdoms in the middle of a war. Do you know why your general offered me war strategies? I’m not even queen, and yet, he’s offering them to me.” Yuta stays quiet, even though you give him time to answer. He must know that he’s made a mistake with his joke.  

That doesn’t keep you from continuing. You stand up and press a finger to his chest, making him stumble back a bit.  

“Because your general knows damn well that I'd probably be the best ally your kingdom could have. Not my parents, me. He’s smart, unlike you, who offered a princess milk as a joke, no less. If you’re the one who ruins an alliance between us, he’ll probably kill you himself. Do you understand the damage you could’ve caused?” Yuta looks like he wants to say something, but he bites his tongue and steps back, bowing to you.  

“Forgive me, princess. I deeply apologize.”  

You don’t believe his apology for a second, but rather than fighting with him anymore, you sit back down and gesture at Mark.  

“Escort the Neo Kingdom to their quarters. You may stay the night, but by morning I want you gone.”  

The men bow to you, thanking you for seeing them, before Jeno and Mark escort them out of the throne room.  

You gesture to Haechan next, and he walks over to you, kneeling as he waits for your command.  

“Follow Doyoung to his quarters. The general. Have him decide a time to meet next week and we will talk about an alliance,” you tell Haechan. 

“Yes, princess.”  

Haechan stands back up and is about to take his leave, but he stops and bows to you.  

“Princess I’m sorry for hurting your feelings last week. Please forgive me.” You stare at Haechan, noting that he actually sounded genuine in his apology. Better than Yuta. You were glad for that.  

You stand up and shove at Haechan a little, smiling when he looks up at you.  

“Go do as I asked, Haechannie.” The knight smiles back at you and turns on his heel, heading out of the throne room.  

And, as for you, you head to the gardens. Because if anything was going to bring you some peace and quiet, it would be there.  

- 

"Princess Y/N?"  

You don't recognize that voice. Was it an intruder? Who let an intruder into the gardens? You quickly stand up and turn around, putting up a fist in case they tried to get at you.  

Instead of seeing an intruder, you see the silver haired prince from the Neo Kingdom, the one who didn't get to present his gift. You blink a few times at him, staring in awe.  

The other princes were handsome, but they couldn't even compare to this prince. He was gorgeous, almost making you lose your breath just looking at him. He was all sharp features with an intense presence, but it was contrasted with big, soft eyes that you couldn't look away from.  

"Princess?" You swallow and lick your lips, gesturing for him to continue asking whatever he wanted.  

"Are you alright? The hearing ended terribly..." He asks. You had long forgotten about the hearing with them, sighing when the face of their stupid stable boy pops back into your mind.  

You roll your eyes and cross your arms, sitting back down on your bench in the garden. "It was going fine until your fool of a stable boy decided to play that joke. Who allowed him to do that, huh?"  

The prince comes to sit next to you, offering a soft smile to you. You try your best to not smile back, but you find yourself already feeling better just looking at him. "I think Johnny and Taeil put him up to it... I guess they thought it'd make you laugh. Lighten you up a bit." 

Your almost smile fades out and you replace it with a pout. "I don't need to lighten up. I can take a joke, but that was just rude." 

The prince chuckles. "I don't know, it was kind of funny." 

Your eyes narrow at him and you put your hands out to shove at him, effectively knocking him off the bench. He hits the ground with a loud thump, groaning in pain a moment later.  

"What was that for?" He asks. You stand up, rolling your eyes.  

"What he did was not funny. He was mocking me! Do you think it's funny to mock a princess?!" You yell. The prince groans again and shakes his head, moving to stand up. You sit back down on your bench, crossing your arms once more.  

"I'm sorry princess," the prince says. "I didn't mean to upset you again." 

"Well, too late for that."  

"Forgive me. Where we come from, I suppose we're a little more lenient with things like that. We- well, Taeil and Johnny meant no harm. Yuta eventually did step out of line, but, we didn't mean to upset you. Really." 

You don't look at the prince, knowing if you did you'd probably melt just with one glance. You were supposed to be mad right now; you couldn't just gain a soft spot for a prince you didn't even know the name of.  

"I won't forgive him, so if you came to ask for his forgiveness, then you can leave now," you tell the prince.  

"I figured. I didn't come for him though. I just came to make sure you were okay. It wouldn't be right of us to leave you upset."  

You feel like your body is on fire. Or maybe your dress was too heavy today. Maybe you had a fever? You don't know why suddenly you feel so hot, your face warm to the touch.  

Wait, were you... blushing? 

"I'm- I'm okay!" You say. You quickly stand up and move to the exit of the garden.  

You can't remember a time when someone other than your knights or Jisung had come to ask if you were alright, especially after a terrible hearing like the one you had. All the princes and lords had too much pride to come see if you were alright.  

But this prince had willingly come to make sure you were okay, even if he wasn't the one who caused your anger. What kind of prince did that? 

"Princess, wait!"  

"I have to go-!" 

The prince rushes to stop you, coming to stop in front of you. You run into him, stumbling back a little at the impact. You look up at him, seeing that same soft smile on his face.  

You hate how much your heart melts. 

"You never heard my proposal," he says. You don't have the heart to tell him you didn't want to hear it, because truthfully, you did. You nod to him, allowing him to continue. "I'm the first prince of the Neo Kingdom, Prince Lee Taeyong." 

Taeyong. What a nice name.  

"For you, I didn't bring any gifts. I only brought myself, in the hopes that you would accept my proposal to court you." 

You blink in confusion at Taeyong.  

You had been asked by princes and lords and dukes and kings from around the world for your hand in marriage. Every one of them had brought a gift in exchange, and as nice as they were, they weren't your type, nor did they interest you enough.  

And none of them, absolutely none of them, had asked you for anything else but marriage. None of them had asked for a courtship or anything like it. 

Except Taeyong. 

"You- you want to court me?!" 

[writing--ramblings]

Wounded (Hurt pt. 2)

Summary: Things get steamy when you and Peter wake up

A/N: So, this chapter isn’t the greatest, I accidentally deleted the last half so, I had to rewrite it. But, I still liked it, hopefully part three will be out soon.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You called his name as you followed him out, no response, he was down the hall a mere twenty feet ahead of you so you know he’d heard you. He rounded the corner and you began to think that this wasn’t worth it. If he isn’t going to stop then why chase him? Your walk became somewhat of a stomp as you reached the parking lot and you resisted the urge to smile as you saw his lean figure standing against your car. His smirk grew larger as he watched you approach.

"Nice of you to join me” his smirk never faltered even as you rolled your eyes and crossed your arms.

“Well it is my car” you told him, feigning annoyance “did your Wolfy powers go out of wack? I called your name” it was like your mind wasn’t sending the signal to your mouth to just *stop talking*, you hoped you didn’t sound like a clingy girlfriend but, you hated being ignored. During your short rant Peter’s eyes danced over your features and he had stepped so close that your noses touched.

“I’m sorry darlin’ I just didn’t want anyone to hear” his eyes filled with lust. You opened your mouth to ask what exactly he didn’t want anyone to hear when his lips came crashing down on yours you barely registered that you were kissing back until he bit your lower lip softly. Giving in eagerly to his silent request to open your mouth as he ran his tongue across yours, you let out a soft moan as he pulled you to him tight, you felt his member against you, letting out another as  he pulled away half a second later. “That, is what I didn’t want them to hear” huffing as he answered the unasked question. He bent his head and let his teeth brush your ear as he spoke “I want that noise to be reserved for my ears only”

You didn’t get a chance to respond because as quickly as it left, his mouth was back on yours and one hand was sliding its way up your shirt, the other gripped your ass tightly. “Peter” you moaned breathlessly into his mouth. Your hands found themselves eagerly pulling at the button of his pants and you began pulling them down.

Your eyes snapped open and you stared at the ceiling oh God oh God ohhh God you thought to yourself as you looked down, Peter was in the same position that you fell asleep in, arms tightly wrapped around you with his head still on your stomach. The dream momentarily pushed out of your head as you saw a sight that you’d never see well, more like felt, there was a small pool of drool right above your belly button. Resisting the incessant urge to giggle, you closed your eyes and thought back to your dream, your hand finding its way to its new favorite spot in Peter Hales dark locks. Really? A dirty dream about Peter? In Peter’s bed?! It isn’t like it’s never happened, you weren’t obsessed with the man but you couldn’t deny the fact that he was handsome. If you’re being honest you’ve had dreams like this before about a few of your other friends, what can you say that you haven’t before? They’re attractive and there’s no way to control your dreams plus you’re a grown ass woman with needs and all this supernatural stuff is seriously blocking your chances at getting anyone near you.

Seriously you were a human, how could you tell if the next guy who took you out wasn’t going to try to murder you? Your train of thought was brought back to reality when your stomach growled about ten minutes later, you’d been in the middle of eating your own food when Stiles and Peter had their argument.

“Guess that’s my cue to cook you breakfast”  Peter’s voice rasped below you. You jumped internally​.

“How uh… How long have you been awake?” You gazed at him from above.

“About twenty minutes” you could almost hear the smile on his face. Your cheeks grew hot because you’d only been awake for a few. “What were you dreaming about?” He asked mischievously. He loosened his grip slightly, only to tilt his head to look at you.

“Rainbows and Unicorns” you deadpanned, looking away from him, you wouldn’t give Peter the satisfaction. He looked at you with desire, Peter was never one to back down from a challenge so he let a slow smile cross his lips as he slowly unwrapped himself from you and slid so that his head was burrowed into your neck, never letting his body stop touching you. He brought his lips to your ear.

“Lucky unicorn” his breath tickled your cheek and he let his tongue graze your ear. “How do you like it?” Your head turned instantly and you met his gaze.

“W-what?” In a second, Peter stood with his regular amused smirk and a lazy stretch, you hated how you had to force your eyes to stay on his face so as not to look down to the small line of skin that was peeking out from under his shirt as he raised his arms.

“Your bacon? I’m cooking you breakfast” the smirk he wore now stretched into a smile. Ladies and gentlemen, Peter Hale is back. You followed his lead and stretched before you left the bed.

“Extra crispy” you tried to run your fingers through your hair but you were met with a clump of leaves and mud. “I’m gonna need to borrow your shower” you told him with a scrunched face.

“Be my guest.” He pointed towards his master bath “towels are in the top cupboard” you nodded and headed towards his bathroom, saying it was huge was an understatement, this place was massive. Who needs this much room to shower? You couldn’t help thinking. There was a large jacuzzi tub on the far right side and you contemplated just hopping in and forcing Peter to bring your breakfast in while you bathed, a small giggle bubbled out at the idea, to your direct left was a door that you could only guess held the toilet.

You found the cupboard full of fluffy grey towels. And stepped into the large clear shower, it was one of the ones that had those blurred lines going through the middle so that if anyone were to be there they would only see your shoulders and above and your legs down, the entire torso blurred. You peeled off your muddy clothes and hopped into the now steaming shower. You sighed as the water hit you and thought about the previous night’s events. You couldn’t imagine how Peter felt, he may have gone about his revenge differently than the others may have liked but, it was revenge. Being with a group of supernaturals around the clock made you a little more cold hearted than you would have liked. Every one one of your friends had blood on their hands, though they didn’t like to admit it. Peter did though, he was accepting of what he did - of who he was, even if he was a little over the top at times.  Maybe that’s why you held such a soft spot in your heart for him, he never hid from you, his intentions were clear… for the most part.

You reached for your towel and wrapped it around yourself, looking around for your clothing as you stepped out and saw a pair of folded sweatpants and a too small tank top with lace straps in place of your clothing. You couldn’t help but let your mind wander as you pulled the top over your head and saw that it hugged you tightly and stopped just below your belly button. You blushed a little at the contrasting sweatpants that were much too large, they had to be Peter’s own. You tossed the towel in the hamper and walked out into the hallway following the smell of freshly cooked bacon.

As you made your way to the kitchen, you were met with a shirtless Peter, humming as he moved his way around the kitchen effortlessly. His hair still damp from a shower if his own, you avoided looking at his chest. “Thanks for the clothes” a pause, “won’t she miss her shirt” a little venom, you didn’t want to add laced your last few words. You weren’t jealous, you just thought it a little rude to give a woman another’s shirt. You were convincing yourself.

A chuckle bubbled out of him and he gestured for you to sit at the small dining table, you did. “You’re very welcome” he placed your plate with bacon eggs and small pancakes in front of you, orange juice had already been placed on the table. “I don’t think she’ll miss it very much at all” a knowing smile as he sat next to you with his own plate. You rolled your eyes and kept the conversation light after that. You both avoided talking about last night’s happening and you knew he was secretly grateful. You raised an eyebrow as he stood halfway finished with his food. “Haven’t you been wondering where your clothes are?” He answered your confused look and began walking away. “They’re in the wash” you thought back to the stripped bed and tossed a grateful smile and thought about the underwear you’d worn last night, satisfied with the lacy bra and boy short set you remembered wearing.  Not that it mattered.

“Put on some clothes!” You yelled as you heard him fumble about in the unseen laundry room. You had a very satisfied look on your face when he came back with a Henley top now hanging loosely on his torso. You kept your conversation as you both finished your meals. You chose to wash the dishes, it was only right as he was being so hospitable. A thought hit you and you couldn’t help but grin as you looked at him “Peter, am I your best friend?” The way you spoke to one another was a lot more casual and open than when he spoke to the others. You thought back to your relationship, every time you were around he was a little looser, you’d definitely been alone with him more so than anyone else, and when the rest of the pack left Peter’s you were always the last, sometimes mooching his food. Maybe you were friends after all.

The question brought a little color to Peter’s cheeks “If we have to put a label on it” he muttered. He stood behind you and leaned in, placing his arms on either side of you. “I’ve never had a best friend though, so you’ll have to forgive me if I don’t know how to behave” his hand inched their way closer to you, until his arms were pressed tightly to your sides.

You cursed your body for the way that it betrayed you, your heart rate grew quickly, you felt yourself getting moist. You had to be a big girl about this though, he’d already won this morning. You turned your body and made sure press your ass against him as you did. “Lesson one:” You stood on your tiptoes and looped a finger through his belt loop as you pressed your lips against his ear, whispering “friends don’t get this close.” you trailed your hand up his torso and flattened your palm against his chest, pushing lightly. He gave you a genuine smile as he backed away.

Your heart jumped and Peter chuckled “You are much better at this than I thought you’d be” he studied you with soft eyes, then hungry ones. “What else can you teach me? And when can I teach you?” He leaned against the sink, still invading your personal space. Flirting was one of your favorite pastimes but, he was laying it on thick.

“I can teach you many things” you took his lead and leaned against the counter with a smirk that matched his  as you watched Peter’s eyes roam your body. The little minx that was brought out of you caught you by surprise but, you couldn’t say that you weren’t enjoying this, you could play this game. Peter let out a low growl in response and made a move to grab you until, the buzz of the dryer sounded and you and Peter both stood. Peter opened his mouth to say something and you saw him visibly decide against it, he turned headed to the laundry roomm.

You took that opportunity to cool down and grab your phone. 12 messages and 9 missed calls. You sent both Scott and Derek the same generic ‘I’m fine, we’re fine’ text and turned when Peter walked in.

“The fan club trying to get ahold of you?” He quirked an eyebrow and you laughed. He held your clothes in his hands and placed them on the table.

“Just trying to see where I ran off to, last night” you shrugged.

“Do they know that you ran off with the big bad wolf?” A wolfish grin formed.

“You’re not so big, and you aren’t that bad” you told him.

“Oh sweetheart, I’m very big, and I can be very bad if you ask nicely” there he was with his growling.

“Oh, I’m sure” you said sarcastically trying to hide the fact that your heart was pounding, that a small wet spot was forming between your legs, that you wanted to see if he was bluffing or not, you tried. But then, your eyes met.

Within seconds you were up against the wall with his lips attacking yours, you didn’t give yourself a chance to think as you were kissing him back feverishly. This was no pretty kiss, there was biting, pulling, grabbing. Peter pushed his hips into yours and you grasped a handful of his hair which earned a moan from him. So much for cooling off. He began to kiss down your neck as one claw ripped the straps of your tank top, your top now hung dangerously low on your breasts. “Peter…we can’t” you said between heavy breaths.

“We can” he let out a sigh and placed a hand on the wall behind you. “We should” you bit your lip and shook your head.

“Best friends, remember?” You smiled a little as you tried to calm your breathing. You held your hand out for him to shake, he glanced at it and shook his head once.

“You and your labels” he sighed and pushed himself off the wall. “You and your everything” he let out a frustrated groan and ran a hand down his face. He took a few more steps back and watched as you stood upright. “Fine. But please don’t let that shirt get any lower because, I promise I’ll show you how big and bad I am” you let out a gasp and covered your chest quickly.

“Sorry” you told him shakily.

“Don’t be.” He said huskily. “Sorry about your shirt, I’ll  buy you a new one” he said with a wink and left the room after handing you with last night’s clothes you put your shirt on quickly and slid the other off.

You both were calmer now, and you were greatful, because there was no way that if Peter made another advance, you’d push him off. You had to get out of there.

You quickly packed your clothes in your purse and put your shoes on.

“Leaving so soon, bestie?” Peter questioned as he walked back into the room, watching your every move.

“Yeah. I’m afraid that we’ll violate our new friendship, bestie” you told him honestly and walked towards the front door, you opened it.

“Right. Best friends” he gave a mock salute and put his hand out for you to shake.

You took his hand in yours and gave a firm shake. “Exactly” you smiled up at him.

“The handshake of death.” Peter remarked and you chuckled. You pulled your hand away but Peter had a firm grip, he loosened his grip on you but held your fingers in his, “Thanks for not treating me like a wounded animal” he said seriously, looking at your hands. He let go of your hand and you gave him a small smile.

The last thing you saw while you were leaving was Peter watching you drive off from his Apartment window.