#i wanted him to have colour and personality then grey

[isolaradiale]

. . . . .

"Mmhm, I see, I see... Your father did tell us you had a bit of a mishap with your art project. We couldn't help coming to give some advice." Solaris muses, circling the diorama of the city. Currently, it's been moved to a coffee table.

"Yes, he told me I should try and spin it as if I had done such a thing on purpose. But I don't see how I could possibly..." "Oh, we had an idea for that!"

Mimosa flutters from behind, resting her hands on Janus' shoulders. The glint of mischief hiding in her rosy glasses does not escape his notice.

"We could help you mirror it in the city proper, you know!" "What?" "It's an interesting theory. The structures you made still stand, but what gives them life and personality has been greyed out." "I wouldn't say that--" "So how do you fix it? Do you paint them with the hues and values they're supposed to be, or do you pick something new?" "What do you do with the spots where the paint bled together? Do you paint over that, too?"

As the two bounce back and forth in this terrible game of brainstorming, Janus begins to put his hands to his cheeks in mounting horror.

"Oh, no. No no no. Absolutely not--" "If we make someone look like an old black and white movie, what happens? Will they try to change to technicolour?" "Would they paint themselves the colour palettes they're used to? Maybe it's something entirely different. If we make those hues correspond with their personalities..." "I--I'll have no part in this! The last time something like this happened, everything--" "Ah-ah, don't worry."

Mimosa leaves Janus side to twirl next to Solaris, who makes an artful pose himself, as if framing the splotchy mess of a diorama in his hands.

"We have this one completely under control. Not like last time." "I'll make sure of it. Just a little bit of editing... ah, Mimosa, what if we..."

Janus can only move his head as the two take their leave, watching them scheme and snicker. He turns back to look at the model of the city. And in a scramble that almost makes him trip over his own feet, he rushes to his boxes of paints.

"--I have to at least put the base coat back on, or they really won't have anything at all!"

. . . . .

Welcome to another zany event for the fall season! It looks like Mimosa and Solaris aren't done causing trouble, but this time, it should be harmless. Right? (Right...?)

Taking inspiration from a creative mishap, the Stars have decided to effectively render the city in greyscale--including the people residing in it--to see what really makes everyone so colourful. Thankfully, most people will start with a base hue.

What does that mean, though? Here's a handy-dandy list of notes!

As soon as it strikes midnight that night, your muse will find that they've been completely greyscaled, save for one colour that represents who they are at their core, and only that colour! - Think of it like those 'what colour is your soul' quizzes. If your muse was only one hue, what would it be? For example, a character that is inherently cheery might turn completely yellow or pink, while a hot-headed character may turn red or orange to reflect their personality.

Your muse cannot help but feel and act whatever hue/personality they seem to be. However! The more your muse interacts with the people around them, the more colours (and feelings/facets of their personality) will open up to them. This will also physically reflect on them. - If your cheery yellow muse bumps into a sad, blue muse, you'll both have a new colour to express. Now you can feel happy (yellow) AND sad (blue)! And perhaps a sort of melancholy joy, like watching your best friend win that prize you wanted instead of you. Of course, you're happy for them, but sad you didn't win. - Or maybe those two colours mix into being green with envy... And suddenly, you have a new colour ;3

Any inanimate object your muse interacts with (except their Island Issued Cell Phone) will take on your muse's hue. Every step you take will leave a colourful footprint in its wake, every hand rail will have colourful handprints. More on that later.

With enough interactions and perspectives, your muse will be back to their old selves in no time! If, that is, they want to go back to their old selves at all. Maybe another colour palette suits them better than before...?

"It can't be that easy, though."

And, you're right! The experiment did more than reduce everyone to solid (or no) colours! Some other strange things are happening, too. Such as...

The NPCs of the city have not escaped unscathed. Unlike you, though, they have no hue to them at all. However, they'll absorb colours from your muses by proximity and action. - If your deep-green jealous muse is around, NPCs will turn deep-green too, and may want what you have--and might try to take it by force. But a calm mint-coloured muse may just leave you alone and soak up some vibes. - This extends to creatures of the island, too, so watch out!

Sources of water in the city (the ocean, lakes, ponds, swimming pools, etc) will wash away at least one colour from you. (You can still drink and cook with it without any effect, though.) Better not get caught in a rainstorm any time soon!

To combat this, you can find paint cans with a random colour paint in them around the city. You never know what you're going to get, though!

The city itself is completely greyscale, so navigating it might be a challenge without any colourful landmarks to stand out. That being said, your muse will leave colour wherever they go, like they're a giant paint roller. And so will everyone else's muses! Figuring out populated areas will be Very Easy, but you might get disoriented in places that don't get a lot of foot traffic.

These are the major issues...... for now :)

FAQ

"Do I have to pick a hue at the beginning? I can't decide on one."

It's entirely possible that your muse can start in greyscale, and just has No Personality. In that case, they'll take on the hue of the first person they interact with.

"What do we do if a colour has multiple associations with it?"

Each association of that colour is a valid one, and there are no incorrect colour associations. Each colour is whatever you need it to be in the moment. The definition of "red" for your muse may not match the "red" of your RP partner--and that's okay! What may be helpful is to make an event info post explaining your colour choice, how you interpret it, and how it would affect your character!

"Do we have to stick to basic colours like red, yellow, green, blue, etc?"

Nope. Maybe your muse is a mauve, emerald, beige, or aquamarine. Pick any colour you think is best for the moment!

"In theory, could we use the paint cans laying around to add hues to others by splashing them with it or something?"

PVP is enabled, if you want to be a menace! (with mun permission, of course)

"Is the comic in black and white for plot reasons?"

No, I'm just lazy :c

Have a question you don't see on here? You can message the Masterlist!

See you in a week! Make sure to get as many colour perspectives as you can, okay? :)

[moriaarts]

Cody o’clock!!! - Republic & Empire

[buttercup-barf]

Under the cut are mostly self-insert doodles of decreasing quality. Again, not much directly tied to Team Fortress 2. Might as well toss these out while I have no access to my puter. Much yapping under the cut and in the tags incoming.

Another self-insert, this time less of a "here's me as a tenth class" and more of a "here's my game experiences translated into the class I would take the place of". The Cleaner. Although I guess they could still be wearing either suit. It doesn't matter that much.

That one Convict's Case taunt with Backup would be extremely funny, because the man would be on the verge of a breakdown (he does not want to go to jail so bad you have no idea). The second image- I owe no explanation. You know what I am. You see the pattern with my favourites.

The duality of the man. Resting face versus "just heard you express interest in religion/Russian folklore" face. He's not that hard to make friends with, when you pull him away from all the explosions.

Some doodles of trying to figure his face out. Unfortunately, the more I stare at him, the more I worry that he looks like A Certain Guy With The Last Name "Kazarin", and the fear of never being original in my life caught up to me.

Don't look at me, don't perceive me, I refuse to explain any of my actions to you.

[d1stalker]

All of You, All of Me [Logan Howlett]

Summary: In a world of black and white, the only person who could bring colour to your life is the last one who'd want to.

Warnings: au where everything is black and white until you meet your soulmate, fem!reader, slow burn, angst, running away from feelings, pining, grovelinggg WC: 14.2k - MASTERLIST - A/N: help i'm sorry i didn't mean for it to get this long, but this fic is my baby

----

You've always cherished the idea of having a soulmate—someone who would love you unconditionally, waiting just for you as you them. The thought of finding that perfect match, the one who complements you in every way, is something you’ve always dreamed of. 

But as you get older, the hope you carry seems to dwindle more and more each year. Everyone around you has found their other half, reveling in the newfound ability to see colours in all their glory, and soaking up every moment of shared affection.

Everyone, except for you.

Your world remains a stark, colourless void, as if the universe is deliberately withholding the one thing you desire most.

And to make matters worse, despite not finding your soulmate, you are unequivocally, irrevocably in love with someone who has.

Logan Howlett.

You can’t remember a time where you didn’t feel anything toward him. His rugged, lone-wolf demeanor snuck its way deep into the crevices of your heart, and made itself a home there.

You and him formed an unlikely friendship, formed through the desire to fight back against all the people who’ve wronged mutants. Over the years, you had accepted the fact that while he wasn’t yours, at least you were alone together. Well, until she came.

Jean Grey.

She was strong, charming, and everything you felt you weren’t. It was no wonder her and Logan were meant to be together—the stoic, brooding mutant and his graceful, strong-willed counterpart. 

You remember the day it happened so vividly, it’s almost like you were the one who found their life partner. You and him had been walking around the mansion, when Charles had called you into his office to meet someone new. One look at their faces when they made eye contact and you knew you’d lost him.

It pained you to see them all over each other, all the time. Your once-regular walks in the garden became rare, then vanished entirely. On missions, he no longer looked out for you; his attention was consumed by protecting her. And as much as it hurt, you couldn’t deny they seemed perfect for each other—just as soulmates should be. You had no right to feel jealous.

Then, just as quickly as she had entered his life, she left it. 

The Pheonix was too strong, ripping her apart from the inside out. The pained scream he let out as not only his heart died, but as the world around him faded back into black and white, was forever ingrained into your memory. 

Logan was never the same after that.

 —

You trudge down the familiar halls of the mansion, your feet heavy with the weight of the day. It’s been long, filled with training sessions, team meetings, and a lot of paperwork. All you want to do is retreat to your room, lose yourself in a book, or maybe just sleep until the ache in your chest dulls.

As you walk, you hear faint commotion down the hallway—a low murmur of voices and the occasional clatter of something being moved. But you pay it no mind, too lost in your thoughts to care. Another mission, another discussion, another moment where you aren’t needed. It’s all so routine now.

Lost in your reverie, you don’t notice the figure walking toward you until it’s too late. You collide with a solid chest, the impact jolting you back to reality.

“Oh, sorry—” you begin, stepping back, but the words die on your lips as you look up.

It’s Logan.

Your breath catches in your throat as you stare at him, shock rippling through your body as you process his presence. And for a moment, neither of you speak. You just stand there, taking him in—the man who was once your closest friend, the man who was torn apart by grief and loss. His clothes are rumpled, his skin rougher than you remember, like he’s been through hell and back. 

You hadn’t seem him in a long time. After the devastation, he stopped talking to everyone. He holed himself up in his room for days at a time, only coming out in the dead of night to eat. Either that, or he was away on a mission–anything to stay distracted. 

But now, looking at him, there’s something different off. Something you can’t quite place your finger on. Did he always look like that? Maybe it’s the way the light above is reflecting off of him. Or maybe it’s—oh.

Looking around in surprise, you watch as the usually dark, stoic walls explode into a deep, rich shade. The carpet below you—no longer a mural of grey—radiates colors you can’t name. Your hands, his eyes, his hair-

You want to open your mouth and say something, anything, to the man who has caused your world to shift on its axis, but he’s already turned, walking away from you.

“Give me a fuckin’ break.”

----

Brown. Logan’s hair is brown.

After Logan leaves you paralyzed in the hallway, you run to your room, find the book on colors you had stashed in your bedside table, and throw open the cover. In it is a diagram that displays every known colour and their names. You learn that your favorite pair of pants are maroon, your bedsheets are navy green, and the X-Men suits are bright yellow and blue.

You stare at the page, each word blurring as your mind tries to process the impossible. Logan’s hair is brown. The thought keeps repeating in your head like a mantra, over and over again, until it becomes a steady thrum, drowning out everything else.

Brown.

You sit back on your bed, letting the book slip from your hands, the pages crumpling as it hits the floor.

Why him? Why me? Why now?

You begin to fidget, the adrenaline of the prior moment causing your heart to flail in your chest like crazy. You can’t stay here, you think to yourself. The idea of locked in your room with only your thoughts for company does not sound appealing. You need air, something to ground you, something to clear the haze clouding your head. Without thinking, you jump out of bed and find yourself heading up to the roof, the one place where you can breathe without feeling like the walls of the mansion closing in on you.

The trip up the stairs feels longer than ever before, each step heavy under the weight of your mind. It’s like every thought adds ten pounds. When you open the door, the cool night air hits you like a welcomed slap to the face, and you exhale deeply.

Walking to the edge, you lean against the railing. You’re in a daze - wondering if you made up the entire thing in your head. The only proof that you haven't, and that Logan being your soulmate is real, is the colours that coat the mansion’s grounds. The moonlight bathes everything in what you now know as a soft, silver glow, and for a moment, you just stand there, looking out into the distance.

It doesn’t make sense, and the more you try to wrap your head around it, the more tangled your thoughts become. You don’t want to face the possibility of what it could mean, but you can’t just brush it aside either. It has quite literally changed your entire life. 

You close your eyes, taking a deep breath in an attempt to quiet your racing mind. But when you open them again, you freeze.

Logan is standing at the other end of the roof, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, his gaze fixed on the sky. He hasn’t noticed you yet, and for a split second, you consider turning back, retreating before he sees you. It would be a wise idea - he didn’t want to talk to you then, and he probably doesn’t want to talk to you now. But, it an act that can only be seen as your own body betraying you, you take a step forward. 

The sudden movement catches his attention, and his head snaps in your direction, his eyes locking onto yours. 

“Why are you here?” he asks accusingly.

You hesitate, unsure of how to answer. Seeing him out here was the last thing you had expected, and now that he’s in front of you, you are at a loss of words.

Logan’s eyes narrow, and he pushes off the wall, walking toward you. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“I needed air,” you manage to say, swallowing the lump in your throat. “I just needed to clear my head.”

“Well, find somewhere else to do it,” he snaps, “I don’t want company.”

“Logan, I—”

“Don’t,” he interrupts, not even bothering to hear you out. “Don’t start. I know what you’re gonna say, and I don’t want to hear it.”

You blink, taken aback, and hurt at his coldness. “What are you talking about?”

He lets out a low, humourless laugh, running a hand through his hair. “You think I don’t know what’s going on? God, I… this is all so fucking stupid.”

Your heart skips a beat, and you feel a flush of embarrassment rise to your cheeks. “I wasn’t—”

“Enough!” he barks, his voice echoing in the night. “I’m not interested, alright? Whatever it is you think is happening between us, it’s not real. It’s just some stupid trick of the universe, and I’m not playing along.”

His words hit you like a physical blow - like you’ve just been shot at right in the heart - and you have to bite your lip to keep from crying out. “I don’t understand. I didn’t mean for any of this—”

“Yeah, well, neither did I,” he snaps at you, “And I’m not gonna sit here and pretend like there’s something here,” he gestures between you two, “when there isn’t. You’re not mine, and I’m sure as hell not yours.”

The finality in his tone leaves you breathless, and for a moment, all you can do is stare at him. You have nothing to say back, he’s not giving you any slack. The reality of his rejection sinks in with a brutal, crushing weight, you have to put in effort to not stumble over. 

After a long moment, you finally collect yourself. Then, “Okay,” you whisper. “I understand.”

Logan’s expression doesn’t soften; if anything, it grows colder, more distant.

“Good. Then stay away from me.”

You nod, eyes filling with tears. You quickly turn your face away, not wanting him to see just how much he’s hurt you.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur, barely audible. “I didn’t mean to make things worse for you.”

He doesn’t respond, doesn’t even acknowledge your apology. He just turns away, his back to you, effectively shutting you out.

You stand there for a long moment, watching him walk away for the second time that night. The colours that seemed so vibrant, so full of life just a moment ago, now feel like a cruel reminder of everything you could never have.

—

When you eventually return to your room, all you can do is lay in bed and stare up at the ceiling as your encounter with Logan on the roof replays in your mind on an endless loop, each harsh word he’d thrown at you cutting deeper than the last. It’s causes pain unlike anything you’ve ever felt before, pain that seems to have no end, no respite.

If he doesn’t want you in his life, you’ll accept that. You have to - it’s not like you have a choice. Soulmates are a two-way street.  

You can’t force him to feel something he doesn’t, can’t make him see you in a way he clearly never will. And you understand, don’t you? You can’t even imagine how difficult this would be for him. Losing your soulmate, and then the universe saying Fuck You and giving you another? 

You’ll never ever forget how wrecked he was when Jean died. How her death shattered him into pieces so small you weren’t–no–you’re still not sure he’ll ever be whole again. 

And you—where do you stand in the grand scheme of things? Just as the unfortunate recipient of a bond that neither of you asked for? Are you even allowed to be upset about this?

—

Waking up the next morning, you honestly wish you hadn’t. You knew you weren’t on good terms with Logan after his little rooftop showcase of emotions, but nothing could have prepared you for the way he starts to treat you.

His face is stuck in a perpetual scowl when you’re in his vicinity. He’s leaving every room the moment you enter, refusing to look at you, speak to you, or acknowledge your presence in any way. It’s as if you’ve become invisible, a ghost haunting the same halls you once shared with him. There’s only one thing you two seem to wordlessly agree on: don’t tell anyone. 

Each day following becomes a struggle, an unbearable test of your strength as you try to make it through without breaking. You begin to avoid Logan as much as he avoids you, but the mansion is only so big, and there are always moments when you catch sight of him in the distance, his broad shoulders hunched, his brooding face glaring daggers in your direction. 

It hurts you every time, an unending torture that leaves you stumbling. Still, you bite your tongue and keep moving, pretending you don’t care.

But you do care. You care more than you want to admit, more than you think is possible. Because despite everything—despite the rejection, the coldness, the anger—you still love him. 

And that’s the cruelest twist of all.

So you endure it, day after day, week after week, month after month. Letting it tear you apart piece by piece, because what else can you do? You carry this burden alone, just as you’ve carried your feelings for him all these years. And maybe one day, the pain will fade, the bond will weaken, and you’ll be able to move on.

—

The only person you tell is Charles.

“What’s on your mind, my child?” he asks one day, while you’re sweeping the dust in his office. 

You hesitate, your gaze dropping to your hands as you focus on cleaning. You know he’s just asking out of courtesy, and that he could easily crawl into your mind and figure it out himself. He probably wouldn’t even need to put in that much effort, given how loud your thoughts are. But still, you don’t yield to his probing.

“Nothing, really,” you mutter, forcing a small smile that doesn’t reach your eyes. “Just… tired, I guess.”

Charles watches you carefully, his eyes full of the warmth and compassion he always has, but this time, it makes you feel uncomfortable. Like he can see right through the facade you’re trying so hard to maintain, which you have no doubt, he does. 

“I’m here to help, whatever the burden.”

You want to groan. It’s not like he’s doing it on purpose but damn does it feel like he’s trying to guilt you into confessing that you just recently had your heart shattered. 

“I know, Professor. But… it’s nothing you need to worry about.”

“You forget, I worry about all of you,” he replies gently. “It’s in my nature.”

The chuckle that crawls out your throat is nothing short of bitter. “It’s just… complicated.”

“Complicated doesn’t mean you have to face it alone.”

You bite your lip, trying to keep the emotions at bay. Do you really want to explain to him the insurmountable suffering you’re in, the rejection you faced from the one person who is supposed to be your soulmate? How can you tell him that the bond the universe forged is the very thing tearing you apart?

“It’s just… I don’t know how to make sense of it, Professor,” you finally admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “Everything’s so… wrong.”

He leans forward slightly, his gaze never leaving yours. “Wrong how?”

Knowing that you’re teetering into confession territory, you hesitate, needing time to collect your thoughts. 

“Logan… he… we… It’s not supposed to be like this, is it?” you eventually get out. Not your best work, but you know he’d get the gist. 

Understanding dawns in Charles’s eyes, and you can see the sympathy there, the quiet acceptance of the truth you’re struggling to voice. “The bond you share… it’s more than you expected, isn’t it?”

You nod, feeling the tears well up again. “But he doesn’t want it. He doesn’t want me.”

The professor sighs softly, and he looks at you like you’re a lost puppy. “Logan has been through so much, more than most could bear. His heart has been wounded in ways that are difficult to heal, and it’s not surprising that he would resist this new connection.”

“So why me?” you ask. “Why bind me to someone who will never love me?”

Leaning back in his chair, his fingers steepled thoughtfully, he says, “I wish I had an answer for you, my dear. The universe works in mysterious ways, ways that often defy our understanding. But I do know this: the bond you share is there for a reason. Whether it’s meant to bring you closer or to teach you something important… that remains to be seen.”

“It feels like a punishment,” you whisper, the tears finally spilling over. As much as you hate being put on the hot seat, you can admit that it feels good talking to someone about it.  “Every day, it hurts more. And he won’t even look at me. I don’t know how to make it stop.”

“The heartache you’re feeling is profound, but you must understand that it’s not your fault. Logan’s reaction isn’t a reflection of your worth, but of his own pain and fear.”

He reaches out, placing a comforting hand on your own before continuing.

“To love, even when it’s not returned, takes incredible courage. But you must also take care of yourself. Give Logan the space he needs, and in the meantime, allow yourself the grace to heal.”

So you do. In the days that follow your conversation with Charles, you make a promise to yourself—to try, really try, to focus on your own life, to reclaim the parts of yourself that have been overshadowed by the pain of this unrequited love.

The colours are still there, vivid and vibrant, and though they sometimes feel like a bittersweet reminder of what could never be, you find moments where they bring you joy. You marvel at the deep blue of the sky, the rich greens of the trees, the way the sunlight filters through the leaves and paints the world in golden hues. It’s like seeing the world anew, and in those moments, you allow yourself to feel happiness.

Moreover, you busy yourself, volunteering for every assignment that comes your way. The adrenaline, the focus, the purpose—they all help to drown out the pain, even if only temporarily. And when you return from each mission, tired but satisfied, you feel a little more like yourself again.

The mansion, too, becomes less of a prison and more of a home once more. You start spending more time with the others, rejoining them for meals, for training sessions, for movie nights. 

You laugh with Rogue, spar with Scott, and even find yourself engaging in playful banter with Remy. It’s not perfect, and there are still moments where you catch yourself faltering, when the weight of everything threatens to pull you under, but those moments are becoming fewer and farther between.

You’re healing, slowly but surely, and with each passing day, you feel a little stronger, a little more in control of your life—of your emotions. 

But then there are the times when you cross paths with Logan, and those moments are the hardest.

One evening, after returning from a particularly grueling mission, you find yourself heading toward the kitchen, your mind on the sandwich you plan to make. The place is quiet, most of the team out on various assignments, or finishing up on some work, and you relish the peace as you walk down the corridor.

However, just as you reach the kitchen door and push it open, you find Logan standing there, preparing to exit the room at the exact same moment. Your heart lurches, and you stop dead in your tracks, almost like a deer caught in headlights. 

His gaze meets yours, and all you can see is his impassive, stoic expression. He steps back, giving you space to enter, but the tension between you is palpable.

“Sorry,” you mumble, stepping to the side, trying to make yourself as small as possible.

Logan doesn’t say anything, barely nodding—if you could even it that— before brushing past you, his shoulder grazing yours. The brief contact sends a jolt through your system, and you have to force yourself to stay still and not physically react. 

Once he leaves, you let out a shaky breath, your heart still racing from the encounter. It’s been so long since you’ve been this close to him—so long since you’ve seen the deep brown of his hair that you love so much. You hate this. 

Why does he have no reaction to at all? Why is it only you who seems to care? 

Because you are the only one who does care.

You move into the kitchen, still intent on eating, but it’s a challenge. Your hands are trembling.

—

It all comes to a head one night during dinner. In this rare occasion, both you and Logan are in the same room. You’re supposed to be celebrating Rogue and Gambit’s anniversary, and even though you insisted that they share this special moment together alone, they didn’t take no for an answer. 

That’s how you find yourself, sitting at the grand dining table with all your friends, and Logan. 

He’s across from you. Just your luck.

He refuses to spare you a single glance, his eyes staying busy the whole night. And while it’s been months and months of this, you have never gotten used to it. Still, you can’t help but sneak a few looks at that chocolate-coloured hair. Brown. 

Everything seems to be going smoothly, the food is delicious and the dessert even better, but when Gambit presents Rogue with a giant painting, that’s when you slip up. 

“I love how you blended the red with the blue!” You compliment, loving the way he managed to create the perfect contrast between shades. You’re too caught up in staring at the artwork to realize the table as gone deathly quiet, all eyes on you.

Rogue's expression is one of gentle confusion, her head tilted slightly as she tries to make sense of your words. “Darling, I thought you couldn’t see colour?”

In any other situation, you’re sure the team would have laughed at how comically large your eyes got, and how all the blood draining from your face makes you look like a gaping fish, but in this moment, nothing is funny. You can feel Logan’s eyes on you, and when you finally muster the courage to glance at him, you see that his all-too familiar glare you’ve been subject to for the last half-year. It makes your heart thud painfully in your chest

“I…” you begin, but you falter. Your mind is going through a thousand thoughts per minute, searching for an excuse you can use to deflect, to pretend it was just a mistake, but the silence is too heavy, too demanding.

Rogue’s confusion deepens, her gaze flickering between you and Logan, who is now staring at you with an expression that’s impossible to read. She starts to say something, but Remy gently places a hand on her arm, shaking his head slightly as if to tell her to let you speak. 

Logan’s gaze stays locked on you for a moment longer. Then, without a word, he pushes his chair back, the legs scraping harshly against the floor. The sound echoes in the silence, and before you can react, he stands up and walks out of the room, his movements stiff, almost mechanical.

The door closes behind him with a quiet click, and the tension in the room thickens. You feel a rush of embarrassment flood through you, your heart sinking as the reality of what just happened crashes over you. 

You lower your head, your eyes stinging with tears that you fight desperately to hold back. But it’s no use. The emotions you’ve been trying to keep buried for so long bubble to the surface, and before you can stop yourself, the tears start to fall. 

“I think I need a moment,” you manage to whisper, your voice trembling as you stand up from the table. Without waiting for a response, you hastily excuse yourself and head for the door, not before mumbling a quick apology to the couple in which you were there for.

Soon you find yourself outside in the gardens, the nightly breeze hitting your face as you make your way to a secluded bench. You can’t even appreciate the beauty in what you see, because all you feel is the overwhelming sense of failure and sadness that threatens to swallow you whole.

Sitting down heavily on the bench, you bury your face in your hands and let go. The sobs come hard and fast, each one ripping through you with a force that leaves you breathless. You’re heartbroken and angry and absolutely over it, but at the same time you feel like a massive asshole because who are you to be upset with a man who’s mourning the loss of a soulmate? 

It’s not fair.

You don’t know how long you sit there, lost in your grief, but eventually, you hear the sound of footsteps approaching. You look up, wiping at your eyes, and see Scott walking toward you.

“Mind if I join you?” he asks gently.

You shake your head, unable to find your voice, and Scott sits down beside you on the bench. 

“I’m sorry,” you croak, “I didn’t mean to ruin the night.”

Scott clicks his tongue in disagreement, his gaze focused on the gardens ahead. “You didn’t ruin anything. It’s clear you’ve been carrying this burden for a long time. It’s no wonder it slipped out tonight.”

“So everyone knows now?” you ask. He nods.

“It wasn’t hard to put two and two together,” he concludes, and you groan, bringing your hands to your face.

“I just… I didn’t want anyone to know. I didn’t want to be pitied.”

“Pity isn’t what anyone feels right now,” Scott says softly. “We’re worried about you. You’ve been hurting, and we didn’t see it. That’s on us.”

“It’s not your fault,” you bring your hands down from your face. “I’ve been trying to deal with it on my own. I thought I could handle it, but… clearly I was wrong”

With a serious expression, Scott turns to look at you. “I know what you’re going through, more than you might realize.”

You glance at him, surprised by his words. “You do?”

He nods, a sad smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I was in love with Jean, remember? When her and Logan found out they were soulmates… it tore me apart. I didn’t think I’d ever be able to move on, and for a long time, I couldn’t.”

The mention of Jean’s name brings a fresh wave of emotion crashing over you, but there’s also a strange comfort in knowing that Scott understands your pain. “How did you… how did you get through it?”

He sighs, “It wasn’t easy. It took a long time, and I had to accept it.”

You wipe at your eyes again, sniffling as you try to compose yourself. “I’ve been thinking about leaving for a while. Taking a longer mission, just to get away for a bit. Maybe then I can figure out how to move on.”

He is quiet for a moment, considering your words. “If that’s what you need to do, I understand,” he says, “sometimes, a change of scenery can help. Though I think you should try to talk to Logan again.”

Letting out a bitter laugh, you shake your head. “I don’t know if he’ll even listen to me. He’s made it pretty clear how he feels.”

“He’s hurting too,” He decides, “He’s not handling it well, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t care. You both need closure, and running away won’t give you that.”

“What if it just makes things worse?”

“It might.” Scott places a comforting hand on your shoulder. “But it might also give you both the chance to start healing. You deserve that chance.”

You nod slowly, letting the weight of his words sink in. “I’ll… I’ll think about it.”

“Take the time you need,” he says. “We’re all here for you.”

“Thanks, Scott. That means a lot.” You offer him a small, grateful smile.

With a final nod, he turns and walks back toward the mansion, leaving you once again alone in the quiet of the gardens. You take a deep breath, the idea of leaving still tugs at you, but now, there’s also the thought of confronting Logan—of finding some kind of closure, whatever that might mean.

You really don’t want to do it, and you’re pretty sure it’s just going to end the same way it did last time - with him shutting you out. But Scott’s words echo in your mind, reminding you that healing often requires confrontation, not avoidance.

Goddamn it.

You huff as you stand up from where you’re seated. You can’t keep running from this, can’t keep letting him run from this. You need to talk to Logan, to lay everything out on the table, even if it tears you apart in the process.

Your anxiety builds with each step as you approach his room, and you pause outside his door, your heart pounding so loudly you’re sure he could hear it if he was listening. This is it. There’s no turning back now. With a shaky breath, you finally raise your hand and knock. 

There’s a long, agonizing pause, making you strain to hear any movement on the other side. For a second, the silence causes you think he might not answer, that he might just ignore you like he’s done so many times before. But then, you hear the faint sound of footsteps approaching the door. Your heart catches in your throat as it slowly opens, revealing Logan standing there, his expression hard and unreadable.

The moment he realizes it’s you, his eyes darken, and he immediately moves to close the door, shutting you out yet again. However, you’re not letting him get away that easily. Before the door can fully close, you stick your foot out, blocking it with more force than you intended.

“C’mon, Logan,” you press. “You know we need to talk.”

He freezes, his grip on the door tightening until his knuckles turn white. His jaw clenches and unclenches, nostrils flaring. He still doesn’t look at you, his gaze fixed on some distant point as if he can will you away if he tries hard enough. But he doesn’t push the door shut either. The room is thick with suspense, both of you standing there in a silent standoff.

Finally, with a low growl of frustration, Logan steps back, opening the door just a smidge wider, barely enough for you to squeeze through. It’s a reluctant invitation, but it’s all you need.

“Fine,” he mutters, his voice rough, edged with irritation. “Talk.”

You step into the room, and he closes the door behind you, lingering close to it, as if he’s ready to bolt at any second. You feel vulnerable and exposed. It’s suddenly hard to gather your thoughts when he’s standing so close, when the heat of his presence and the distance he’s placed between is right in your face.

“Why did you come?” Logan questions. He still refuses to look directly at you, his gaze fixed somewhere over your shoulder.

“Because we can’t keep pretending this isn’t happening,” you reply, “We need to talk about what’s going on between us.”

His jaw tightens further, and his teeth grind with barely contained frustration. He finally looks at you, his eyes hard and defensive. “There’s nothing to say,” he says bitterly. “I told you how I feel. I thought that was enough.”

“It’s not enough!” you shoot back, your own frustration bubbling to the surface. “You think you can just push me away, pretend like this bond doesn’t exist, and that’s supposed to solve everything? It doesn’t work like that, Logan.”

He flinches slightly at your words, but his keeps his expression hard. “Well what do you want me to say?” he demands, his voice rising. “That I’m sorry? That I didn’t mean to hurt you? Because I am, and I didn’t. But that doesn’t change the fact that I can’t be what you want me to be.”

His words hurt. 

“I know you told me how you feel,” you start, “but you’ve never let me tell you how I feel. You’ve never given me the chance to say that it’s been tearing me apart.”

A flash of guilt. “I didn’t think… I didn’t think you needed to say it. I already knew.”

“That isn’t fair,” you argue.

“You don’t understand,” he counters, “I lost Jean. I loved her, and when she died, it broke something in me. And now… now I’m supposed to just… move on? With you? It’s not that simple.”

“I never asked you to love me, Logan,” you say, your voice trembling with the intensity of your emotions. “I never pushed for anything more than friendship—it’s not like you gave me the chance! You’ve been shutting me out, ignoring me, making me feel like I’m nothing more than a burden, like I don’t even matter!”

You can see that the pain in your voice hitting him hard, but he doesn’t apologize. Instead, he looks away, his expression conflicted. “I’m trying to protect you,” he mutters, the words sounding hollow even to him

“Protect me?” you echo incredulously. “All you’re doing is make me feel like shit. Like I’m worthless. I can’t even be your friend, to help you through this.”

You pause. “You expect us all to know how you’re feeling, but you can’t even communicate it.”

Logan winces, his eyes flicking up to meet yours, filled with a torment you’ve never seen before. He opens his mouth to say something, but the words seem to get caught in his throat. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, he breaks the silence, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I can’t be what you want me to be,” he admits, his tone filled with a deep, aching sadness. “I don’t know how to let you in. Without her, I feel like… I can’t let anyone in.”

Your eyes soften a fraction his confession, but there’s also a deep frustration that burns inside you, a frustration born of months of pain and rejection. 

“You haven’t even tried,” you say softly with a quiet resignation, “You haven’t even tried to let me in, to see what we could have been, even if it was just as friends.”

What follows is a long, nagging silence. You let it linger, giving Logan the chance he needs to think of something to say. But there’s no answer, no promise that things will change, and then you realize, with a sinking feeling, that he’s not going to take that step, too broken to try.

That’s when it really hits you. 

Whatever you were fighting for, was a losing battle from the start. 

You give up.

This time, it is you who turns your back on him. 

“Goodbye, Logan. Take care of yourself.”

You don’t wait for a response. You don’t glance back. You walk out of the room, the door closing softly behind you, and with it, the last remnants of hope you had for something more.

— 

You decide to go on the mission.

It’s nothing complicated. Your task is to survey different regions of Europe, ensuring that there are no burgeoning anti-mutant operations threatening the safety of anyone. The primary goal is gathering information, and quiet observation. No violence, Charles told you in the debrief. 

The lack of immediate danger doesn’t make leaving any easier, though. This is as much about finding yourself as it is about fulfilling your duty.

Rogue and Kitty are with you during your final preparations, helping you pack the essentials and offering support in their own ways. They don’t ask many questions, probably sensing that this decision was not just made on a whim. And for that, you’re grateful.

“I still think you’re crazy for going solo,” Rogue says with a half-smile as she zips up your bag. “But if anyone can handle it, it’s you.”

You manage a small smile in return. “Thanks, Rogue. I just need some time…”

Kitty, who’s been quietly folding clothes and tucking them into your bag, looks up, seriousness clouding her gaze.  “We get it. Just promise you’ll keep in touch, okay? And don’t hesitate to call if you need backup.”

“I promise,” you assure.

She hesitates for a moment before reaching into her pocket and pulling out a small device—the X-Men communicator gadget. She holds it out to you, and you reach your hand out. 

“Here,” she says softly, pressing the device into your hand. “This is so you can update us on your whereabouts, your status, or any important mission details. Even if you don’t need anything, just… let us know you’re okay, alright?”

You look down at the communicator in your hand, and close your fingers around it, nodding as you meet Kitty’s gaze. 

“Alright, I’ll check in regularly. I won’t leave you guys in the dark.”

Rogue finishes the last bit of organization. “You’ve got this,” she says, “And we’ve got your back, even from a distance.” You nod, appreciating their support more than you can express. 

It almost feels like a walk of shame—leaving the mansion. Everyone knows why too, and that makes it a thousand times worse. But you won’t let it get to you. With one last look, you get in your car and begin on the windy path to the airport. 

—

When you arrive in Europe, the first thing that strikes you is the sheer beauty of the landscape. Each city, each town, has its own unique charm, its own story to tell. The bustling uphill streets of Porto, the serene canals of Venice, the ancient ruins of Athens—they all offer a distraction from the turmoil inside you.

The only good part about this whole mess is that you can see colour, and truly appreciate the sights before you.

You move from one place to the next, blending in with the crowds, quietly observing, gathering information, and sending brief updates to the team through the communicator Kitty gave you. Every message is short, to the point, just enough to let them know you’re safe and on track. You don’t share much beyond the essentials, not wanting to burden them with your personal struggles.

Then, in a small café in Rome, you meet a man named Marco. He’s a traveler like you, exploring Europe with a curiosity that matches your own. He’s warm, easygoing, and before long, the two of you strike up a conversation over coffee.

He is charming in a way that makes you feel at ease, his laughter infectious as he shares stories of his travels. You don’t tell him much about yourself, keeping the details of your mission and your mutant abilities hidden. To him, you’re just another traveler, searching for something—though he doesn’t pry into what that something is.

As the days pass, you and Marco continue to cross paths, and it’s nice to have someone to talk to, someone who doesn’t know about your past, about the things you’re running from. With him, you can be anyone, and for the first time in a long while, you start to feel a little lighter. You find yourself laughing more, the weight on your chest lifting a little each day. You don’t talk about the mission, and you certainly don’t talk about Logan.

One evening, as you’re both sitting on the steps of the Spanish Steps in Rome, watching the sunset, he turns to you with a grin. “So, where are you off to next?”

You hesitate, not wanting to reveal too much, but then you smile. “I’m heading to Florence. There are some places I need to check out.”

His eyes light up. “Florence? I’ve been meaning to re-visit. Mind if I tag along?”

A part of you wants to say no, to keep the distance you’ve carefully maintained, but another part—the part that’s been lonely for so long—nods in agreement. “Sure, why not?”

—

Back at the mansion, things haven’t been as positive. The once lively atmosphere has dimmed, replaced by an uneasy tension that lingers in the halls. The X-Men carry on with their duties, but there’s a noticeable shift—a missing piece that everyone feels but no one talks about. Logan, in particular, has become even more withdrawn, if that’s possible. The man who was once brooding and distant now seems even more so, his mood volatile and unpredictable.

His behavior has become a source of concern for the team. He’s always been rough around the edges, but now, it’s like the slightest thing can set him off. He snaps at everyone, his temper flaring at the smallest provocation. On missions, he’s reckless, throwing himself into danger without a second thought, as if he’s trying to outrun something—or someone. 

In many evenings, Logan finds himself in the mansion’s gym, trying to work off the restless energy that’s been plaguing him for months. The room is always empty, save for him, the steady rhythm of his fists pounding against the punching bag being the only sound. Sweat drips down his face, his muscles straining as he channels all his frustration and anger into each punch. Yet, no matter how hard he hits, he can’t seem to shake the thoughts of you that have been haunting him.

This night, door to the gym creaks open, and Logan doesn’t need to look up to know who it is. He can sense the other man’s presence, feel the weight of his gaze as he steps inside. He doesn’t slow his punches, doesn’t acknowledge Scott’s presence, but he knows why he’s here. They’ve had this conversation before—or something like it—but nothing’s changed. Nothing’s gotten better.

Scott watches him for a moment, his expression unreadable. He’s been watching Logan spiral for weeks now, but he’s kept his distance, knowing that he’d only be pushed away. But this can’t go on—Logan can’t keep doing this, can’t keep tearing himself apart over something he refuses to confront.

“She wouldn’t want this,” he finally says, voice cutting through the steady thud of Logan’s fists against the bag.

Logan’s movements falter for just a second before he resumes, his jaw tightening. “Who?” he growls, not bothering to turn around. “Her or Jean?”

Scott doesn’t flinch at the harshness in the other man’s tone. He steps closer, his eyes steady on their target as he answers, “Both.”

Finally, Logan stops. His fists still as he leans against the bag, his breath coming in ragged gasps. His shoulders are tense, the weight of Scott’s words pressing down on him like a physical burden. He doesn’t want to hear this, doesn’t want to be reminded of what he’s lost—of who he’s lost. 

Taking a step closer, Scott’s voice is firm. “Look, I’m not a spiritual person. But I also don’t think the universe messed up with this.”

Clenching, his fists, Logan knows what the other man is getting at, but he doesn’t want to acknowledge it. Doesn’t want to think about what could have been, what he’s been too scared to even consider.

“I know you know how I felt about Jean,” Scott says quietly, knowing he’s breaching a sensitive subject. “Losing her… it killed me too. And if I had been given a chance—a real chance to be with her, to make things right—I would have taken it. No hesitation.”

Logan’s breath hitches at that. The truth is, he’s been running—running from you, from the bond you share, from the possibility of something real. 

“I’m not saying you should chase after her,” he continues. “But I am saying that you need to stop running from her. The universe doesn’t just throw things like this at us for no reason. And you know that.”

The weight of Scott’s words settle over Logan like a shroud. He knows the other man is right—deep down, he’s always known. But that doesn’t make it any easier. The fear, the guilt, the pain of losing Jean—it’s all still there, gnawing at him, holding him back. 

There’s something else too, something he’s been trying to ignore but can’t any longer: the way he feels about you, the way he’s always felt, even if he couldn’t admit it to himself. One of the first thought’s that ran through his head when his world re-erupted into colour was that, had this happened before Jean, maybe it could have worked. Maybe he could have been what you wanted, felt something real.

Scott takes a step back, giving Logan the space he needs. “Just think about it,” he says softly. “Think about what you really want. And don’t wait until it’s too late to figure it out.”

Logan doesn’t respond, but Scott doesn’t need him to. He’s said what he needed to say, and now it’s up to him to decide what comes next. With a final look, Scott turns and leaves the gym, the door closing softly behind him.

The clawed mutant stands there for a long time, his fists still clenched, his mind racing. He knows he can’t keep doing this—can’t keep tearing himself apart over something he can’t change, something he’s too afraid to confront.

But change is terrifying, especially when it means facing the truth. The truth that maybe, just maybe, the bond he shares with you is something worth fighting for. Something that Jean wouldn’t want him to throw away.

With a deep, shuddering breath, Logan finally lets his fists unclench, the tension in his body slowly ebbing away. He doesn’t have all the answers—hell, he barely knows where to start—but he knows one thing for sure: he's can’t run away anymore. Not from this, not from you.

—

You’ve now spent days in Florence, wandering through the Uffizi Gallery, marveling at the works of the Renaissance masters, and evenings enjoying the quiet serenity of the Arno River. With you, Marco. You’ve grown to trust him. He’s never made you uncomfortable, never had any intentions to take advantage of you, and knows all the best restaurants. 

But there’s always been a small, nagging doubt that you’ve pushed aside—a feeling that something isn’t quite right. You’ve ignored it, convincing yourself that you’re just being paranoid after everything you’ve been through. After all, he has been nothing but kind, always knowing the right thing to say, always showing up just when you need someone.

It isn’t until the two of you are exploring a quieter part of Florence, that the doubt flares into something more. You’re walking through an old, narrow alleyway, the kind that tourists rarely venture into, when Marco suggests you take a shortcut through a small, unmarked door in the side of a building.

“I found this place the last time I was here,” Marco says, his smile as easy as ever. “It’s a hidden gem, leads right to a beautiful courtyard. You’ll love it.”

You hesitate, something in his tone—or maybe it’s the way his eyes gleam just a little too brightly—sets off alarm bells in your mind. You’ve come to trust him though, haven’t you? You’ve traveled together for weeks, shared countless stories and laughs. Surely, he wouldn’t lead you into danger.

Still, as you step through the door, the darkened space beyond immediately feels wrong. The air is colder, damp, and the walls are lined with strange, unidentifiable equipment. You glance back at Marco, and that’s when you see it—the change in his expression. The warmth is gone, replaced by something cold and calculating.

Before you can react, you feel a sharp prick in your arm. Your vision blurs, and your body goes numb almost instantly. You stumble back, trying to push away, but your legs give out, and you collapse to the floor.

Marco looms over you, the smile gone from his face, replaced by a look of triumph. “Did you really think I didn’t know?” he sneers, his voice dripping with disdain. “You’re a mutant, and you thought you could hide it from me?”

The world around you spins as the drug takes full effect, but you force your mind to stay focused. “What… why?” you manage to whisper, the betrayal cutting deep.

“Why?” He laughs, the sound harsh and devoid of any warmth. “Because mutants like you are worth a fortune. My clients pay top dollar for… research subjects. And you, my dear, are about to make me very, very rich.”

You try to move, to fight back, but your body refuses to respond. Panic rises in your chest as he kneels beside you, pulling out a small device that looks like a portable scanner. He runs it over you, and it emits a low hum as it registers your vital signs, confirming what he already knows. You’re weak. 

“You won’t get away with this,” you say.

“Oh, but I already have,” he replies with cruel satisfaction. “No one knows where you are. And even if they did, it’ll be too late by the time they find you.”

With the last bit of strength you can muster, you reach into your pocket, fingers trembling as you fumble with the X-Men communicator that Kitty gave you. His attention is momentarily distracted as he prepares a syringe filled with a clear liquid, and you seize the opportunity. You manage to pull out the communicator, your fingers barely able to grip it. Then, with a deep breath, you press the SOS button, the screen flashing to life.

You type in the message as quickly as you can, your vision blurring even more as the drug takes hold. 

Location: Florence. 

Message: Help.

Just as you hit send, Marco notices what you’re doing. His eyes widen in anger, and he grabs your wrist, yanking the communicator out of your hand. “You little—!” he snarls, but it’s too late. The message has already been sent.

His face contorts in rage as he slams the gadget against the ground, smashing it to pieces. He glares down at you, his hand tightening painfully around your wrist. “You think you’re so clever, don’t you? But it doesn’t matter. They’ll never get here in time.”

Your strength is nearly gone, the drug pulling you into unconsciousness, but you manage one last defiant look. “You won’t win,” you whisper with the last of your energy.

Marco releases your wrist with a sneer, standing up and looking down at you with contempt again. “We’ll see about that,” he mutters before turning away, leaving you on the cold, hard floor as darkness overtakes you. 

You can only hope they—that Logan—will reach you in time.

—

The signal comes through during a meeting. A sudden, loud beep cuts through the room,  and everyone freezes, their attention immediately drawn to the source of the sound. To Kitty’s pocket. It’s the X-Men communicator, the one linked to your device. 

Logan’s head snaps up, his eyes narrowing as he recognizes the tone. He’s on his feet before anyone else can react, his heart pounding in his chest. “What the hell was that?” he demands, his voice tense with urgency.

Kitty quickly pulls it out of her pocket, her eyes widening as she reads the message that’s flashed across the screen. Her face pales, and she looks up at the others, her voice trembling as she speaks. “It’s from her… Florence… Help.”

There’s a brief pause, maybe a second long in length, and then the room erupts into a flurry of movement. 

Chairs scrape against the floor as the team rises to their feet, already preparing for action. But Logan is the first to react, his face a mask of fury and determination. “I’m going,” he growls, already heading for the door.

“Logan, wait!” Scott steps forward, blocking Logan’s path with a firm hand on his chest. 

“Get out of my way, Summers,” He snarls, his voice filled with barely controlled rage. “I’m not waiting around while she’s in danger.”

“We can’t just rush in without a plan,” Scott insists, trying to keep his own emotions in check. “We need to know what we’re dealing with.”

Logan shoves the other mutant’s hand away, his eyes blazing with anger. “She sent an SOS, Scott! She needs help, and we’re wasting time standing here talking about it!”

The rest of the team watches the confrontation with anxious eyes, knowing that things could easily escalate. Logan’s been on edge for weeks, and the urgency of the situation—of you— has pushed him to the brink. 

“Logan,” Ororo interjects, “We understand how you feel, but we need to think this through. If this is a trap—”

“I don’t give a damn if it’s a trap!” He snaps, his voice rising. “She’s part of our team! We can’t just leave her there!”

“That’s not what we’re saying,” Scott tries to reason, but Logan isn’t having it.

“Then what the hell are you sayin’?” He demands, his frustration boiling over. “Why are we wasting time when we should be getting her out of there?”

There’s a brief, uncomfortable silence, and then it’s Rogue who steps forward, conflicted. “Logan… what if… what if she doesn’t want to see you?”

He freezes, the words hitting him harder than any physical blow could. He stares at Rogue, disbelief and anger warring in his eyes. “What the fuck are you talking about?” he growls.

Rogue swallows, her eyes filled with worry. “She left because she needed time, Logan. Because things between you two… they weren’t good. Maybe she—maybe she doesn’t want you to be the one to save her.”

Clenching his hands into fists, his body is taut with tension. “Fuck that!” he roars with a fierce, protective rage. “She’s part of our team! She sent that message to us, to the X-Men, because she needs our help. I don’t care what’s happened between us, I’m not leavin’ her there!”

The room falls silent, the weight of Logan’s words settling over everyone. They know Logan is right—she’s part of the team, and they can’t leave her behind. But they also know that the situation is more complicated than that.

Scott takes a deep breath, his gaze steady as he looks at Logan. “We’re not saying we shouldn’t go after her, Logan. We’re saying that you need to be prepared for whatever we might find when we get there. She might be in a bad place, and she might not be ready to face you.”

“I don’t care,” he says after a brief pause, his voice quieter now, but no less determined. “I’m going to get her out of there. Whether she wants to see me or not, I’m not lettin’ her go through this alone.”

Scott studies Logan for a long moment, then finally nods. “Alright. But we do this together, as a team.”

Logan nods, his jaw set in a grim line. “Fine. Let’s go.”

—

Your eyes snap open, the dim light of the room piercing your vision. You’re in a large, abandoned warehouse. Your head feels heavy, like it’s filled with cotton, and there’s a dull, throbbing pain at the base of your skull. As you try to move, you realize with a jolt of fear that you’re restrained, your arms and legs strapped tightly to a chair. Panic flares in your chest, and you struggle against the bonds, but they don’t budge.

And then you see him—Marco, standing a few feet away, watching you with a smirk that sends a chill down your spine. His eyes gleam with satisfaction, and you realize with horror that you’ve been caught, trapped in whatever twisted game he’s been playing.

“Ah, you’re awake,” he says, voice dripping with mock concern. “I was starting to wonder if I’d given you too much of the sedative. But it seems you’re tougher than I thought.”

You try to respond, but a gag in your mouth muffles your words, turning them into incoherent sounds. You glare at him your eyes burning with fury.

He only chuckles, clearly amused by your resistance. “Oh, don’t bother trying to speak. We wouldn’t want you calling for help, now would we? Though, I must say, I’m impressed you managed to send that little SOS before I caught on. Clever, but ultimately futile.”

He steps closer, his eyes narrowing as he looks you over, his expression turning cold. “You know, I’ve dealt with a lot of mutants in my time, but there’s something special about you. Something… unique.” He reaches out and grabs your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. “Too bad your powers won’t do you any good here. The drug I gave you should keep you nice and powerless for the foreseeable future.”

Straining against the bonds, you continue to try to break free, but he drug in your system dulls your abilities, leaving you feeling weak and vulnerable. All you can do is stare at him with hatred as he continues to taunt you.

“Such fire in your eyes,” Marco murmurs, almost to himself. “It’s a shame you’ll never see the light of day again. But don’t worry—I’ll make sure your abilities are put to good use.”

He lets go of your chin, his hand trailing down to your shoulder in a way that makes your skin crawl. “Now, let’s see what we can do to make you a little more… compliant.”

Just as he reaches into his coat pocket, presumably for another syringe, a sudden, loud crash echoes through the warehouse. The sound of splintering wood and shattering glass fills the air, followed by the unmistakable hum of energy blasts and the heavy thud of boots on the concrete floor.

The X-Men have arrived.

Marco’s eyes widen in surprise and then narrow in anger. He spins around, barking orders at the security guards scattered throughout the warehouse. “Stop them! Don’t let them get near her!”

The guards rush forward, weapons drawn, but they’re no match for your friends. The familiar sounds of battle flood your ears—Rogue’s powerful punches, Scott’s optic blasts, and Storm’s lightning crackling through the air. You struggle against your restraints again, desperate to free yourself, but it’s no use. 

Then, you catch a glimpse of Logan. He’s fighting his way toward you, his claws out, slicing through anyone who gets in his way. For a brief, heart-stopping moment, your eyes meet his, and you can see the raw determination in his gaze. He’s coming for you.

But just as he takes a step forward, something changes. He hesitates. You can’t hear what he’s thinking, but you can see the conflict on his face—the way he seems to second-guess himself, the way his steps falter. Your heart sinks as you realize he’s unsure, almost as if he's torn between wanting to save you and fearing that you don’t want him to.

In that split second of hesitation, Rogue swoops in, landing beside you with a determined look on her face. She doesn’t waste any time, using her strength to tear through the restraints that bind you. “We’ve got you, sugah,” she says, her voice steady and reassuring as she pulls the gag from your mouth. “You’re safe now.”

You nod, your throat too dry and your body too weak to speak. Your muscles scream in protest as you try to stand, but she quickly wraps an arm around you, helping you to your feet. You’re shaky, your body still reeling from the effects of the drug, but you’re free. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Logan still standing there, his eyes locked on you, his expression unreadable. He wanted to save you. He wanted to be the one to pull you out of that nightmare, but something held him back.

Rogue helps you toward the exit as the rest of the team continues to subdue the guards and Marco. You lean heavily on her, your legs barely able to support your weight, but you force yourself to keep moving. 

And when everyone else has back in the jet, hugging you and comforting you, you look over to Logan, who sits far away, on the opposite side, refusing to meet your gaze. 

—

Returning to the mansion feels like stepping back into a familiar, comforting embrace. You missed the soft, warm bed in your room, the quiet serenity of the gardens, and the comforting presence of your friends. It's been a few days since the whole ordeal in Florence, and the drug has finally worked its way out of your system. Your strength has returned, and physically, you feel like yourself again. The mansion, too, seems unchanged—still the safe haven you’ve always known.

But as the days pass, you begin to notice that while many things have returned to normal, some things have not. You’ve seen most of your friends, their faces lighting up when they see you, their hugs tight and full of relief. There have been quiet conversations and laughter, shared meals in the kitchen, and moments that remind you why this place is home.

Except, there’s one person you haven’t seen. Logan.

His absence is like a shadow that follows you wherever you go. You’ve felt his presence in the mansion—heard his voice in the halls, the sound of his footsteps on the floorboards—but he’s kept his distance. He hasn’t sought you out, hasn’t tried to talk to you, and that stings more than you want to admit.

You’ve tried to stay strong, to remind yourself of the resilience you found during your time away. You’ve reminded yourself over and over that you don’t need anyone else to validate your worth, that you can stand on your own. Yet the longer Logan avoids you, the harder it is to hold on to that strength. The old wounds, the ones you thought had begun to heal, start to ache again, and you can’t help but wonder if anything has really changed at all.

More often than not, you find yourself retreating to the front lawn. The sun is warm on your skin as you lie down in the grass, a book in hand. The soft rustling of leaves in the breeze and the distant hum of life inside the mansion create a peaceful background, and for a moment, you manage to lose yourself in the pages of your book.

Still, even here, in the sanctuary of the garden, the thoughts you’ve been trying to push aside keep creeping back in. The memory of Florence, of Logan’s hesitation, lingers like a bitter aftertaste. You replay the moment over and over in your mind, trying to make sense of it, trying to understand why he stopped, why he didn’t come for you.

You’re so lost in your thoughts that you don’t notice the shadow that falls across your page until a deep, familiar voice breaks the silence.

“I’m glad you’re alright.”

The voice startles you, and you jerk slightly, looking up to see Logan standing above you. His expression is guarded, as if he’s not sure how you’ll react to his presence. There’s a tautness to his posture, a stiffness that you recognize all too well. 

For a moment, you just stare at him, caught off guard by the suddenness of his appearance. He’s as rugged and intimidating as ever, but there’s something different in his eyes—something a tad bit softer. You close your book, sitting up slowly as you meet his gaze. The question that’s been gnawing at you since Florence rises to the surface, and you know you can’t keep it inside any longer.

“What happened?” you ask, your voice steady but filled with quiet intensity. “In Florence?”

His jaw tightens, and he looks away for a moment, his gaze shifting to the trees in the distance. He doesn’t answer immediately, and the silence stretches out between you, thick with unspoken words. 

You just watch him, waiting for an explanation, but there’s a part of you that’s already bracing for disappointment. You’ve been here before, waiting for Logan to decide what happens next, to take the lead. And you’re tired of it. You’re tired of being the one left in the dark, of being the one who has to wait for him to be ready.

Finally, he lets out a heavy sigh, his shoulders slumping slightly as if the weight of the world is pressing down on him. “I… I hesitated,” he admits huskily, almost in a growl. “I wanted to save you. Hell, I was going to. But then… I didn’t know if you wanted me to.”

His confession hangs in the air, and you feel a mix of emotions—surprise, confusion, and sadness. You hadn’t expected this, hadn’t realized that his hesitation was rooted in something so painfully human.

“Why wouldn’t I want you to?” you ask softly, searching his face for answers.

Logan finally looks at you, really looks at you, and the raw emotion in his eyes takes your breath away. “Because of everything that’s happened between us. Because I pushed you away. I hurt you, and I thought… maybe you’d be better off if it wasn’t me.”

You shake your head, trying to make sense of his reasoning. “Logan, this can’t keep being about what you think is best,” you begin. “And it’s not about who saves who. It’s about being there when it counts. You were there. You came for me.”

He doesn’t have a response to that, at least not right away. He looks down at the ground, his fists unclenching, his shoulders slumping even further. It’s like he’s carrying the weight of everything he’s done, everything he’s failed to do, and it’s crushing him. 

“I’m sorry,” he finally manages to get out. “For everything.”

You stare at him, your heart pounding in your chest.

“I know I’ve messed up,” he continues. “I know I haven’t been there for you like I should’ve. But I’m here now. And if you’ll let me… I want to try to make things right.”

You know you should be happy—this is everything you’ve wanted to hear from him for so long. But it’s also too much, too late. The doubt, the pain, it can’t just disappear with a snap of your fingers.

“I don’t know if I’m ready for that,” you admit. 

There’s pain on his face. “I get it,” he says, his voice rough but steady. “I know I’ve got a lot to make up for. And I know it’s not going to happen overnight. But I’m willing to do whatever it takes, if it means I can earn your trust back.”

“I need time. I need time to figure out where I stand, and where you stand with me.”

He nods slowly, his gaze dropping to the ground again. “Take all the time you need,” he says quietly. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“I appreciate that,” With a small nod, you stand up, brushing the grass off your clothes. “I need time,” you repeat, more for your own benefit than his.

“And you’ve got it,” Logan replies. “As much as you need.”

—

Days turn into weeks, and weeks into months. You focus on yourself, on healing the wounds that were reopened during your conversation with Logan. It feels strange, being the one who needs space, but you know it’s necessary. You find things to take your mind off him: you train more, read more, spend more time with Rogue, Kitty, or Remy. It’s nice.

But Logan… Logan doesn’t give up. He knows you need time, and he respects that. He doesn’t push, doesn’t pressure you to make a decision, but he makes it clear through his actions that he hasn’t forgotten about you, and more importantly, that he isn’t going anywhere.

It starts with the small things—things so subtle that you almost don’t notice at first. You probably wouldn’t have suspected anything if you hadn’t known the kind of person he is. He’s nothing if not persistent. He knows you better than you realize—the rift he created after Jean’s death muddling with your memory—and he uses that knowledge to quietly, almost imperceptibly, work his way back into your life.

In the mornings, you wake up to find your favorite snacks waiting for you in the kitchen, carefully placed where you’d be sure to see them. He never mentions it, never takes credit, but you know it’s him. It’s in the way he glances at you from the corner of his eye as you take a bite, a small, almost imperceptible smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He never makes a big deal out of it—just a quiet, unspoken gesture that says, I’m thinking of you.

Then there are the late-night training sessions. You go down to the Danger Room or the gym, hoping to clear your mind with a bit of solitary exercise, only to find Logan already there. At first, you’re tempted to leave, to find somewhere else to work out, but something in his demeanor stops you. He doesn’t approach you, doesn’t speak unless you initiate it. Instead, he just… exists beside you, his presence steady and reassuring, like a rock in the storm.

It’s in these moments that you begin to see a different side of Logan—one that’s patient, understanding, and perhaps a little unsure of himself. He follows your lead, mirroring your exercises or silently spotting you during weightlifting, always attentive to your needs without ever making you feel pressured or overwhelmed. He’s just there, offering his support in the quietest, most understated way possible.

And then there are the little surprises in your room—small, thoughtful gestures that you can’t help but notice. A favorite book you’d mentioned in passing suddenly appears on your nightstand, its pages pristine and waiting for you to dive into. The time-worn leather straps on your gear are suddenly replaced with new ones that fit perfectly, the stitching unmistakably done by Logan’s hand. Even your plants, the ones you’d worried would wither away while you were on a mission, seem to thrive in your absence, the soil freshly watered and the leaves turned toward the sun.

He never asks for thanks, never draws attention to what he’s doing. It’s all done quietly, behind the scenes, as if he’s afraid that if you notice too much, you might push him away. But you do notice. How could you not?

At first, you try to ignore it, telling yourself that these gestures don’t change anything, that they’re just a way for Logan to assuage his guilt. You tell yourself that he’s just doing this because he feels bad, because he wants to make up for the past, not because he actually cares. You’ve built walls around your heart for a reason, and you’re not ready to let them down just because he’s being nice.

But over time, those small gestures begin to chip away at those walls, brick by brick. You start to realize that Logan isn’t just going through the motions—he’s really paying attention, noticing the little things that make you who you are. It isn’t just about the snacks or the books or the plants—it’s about the way he remembers the details of your life, the things that matter to you, the things that make you feel seen and understood.

After a particularly long and stressful day, you return to your room exhausted, and all you want is to collapse into bed and forget the world for a while. But when you walk in, you find a small bouquet of wildflowers sitting on your nightstand, the beautiful colors a stark contrast to the dark thoughts that have been swirling in your mind all day. There’s no note, no explanation—there never is—but you know who left them.

You just stand there, staring at the flowers, your heart squeezing in your chest. It’s such a simple gesture, and yet it means so much. You’d forgotten that Logan knew how much you love wildflowers—you’d mentioned it once, years ago. The way they’re resilient, thriving even in the harshest conditions, blooming where others wouldn’t. It’s as if he’s telling you that he sees that strength in you, that he admires it.

And it’s then, in the quiet of your room, surrounded by the small, thoughtful gestures that Logan has left behind, that you realize something. This isn’t just about making up for the past. Logan is showing you, in the only way he knows how, that he wants this. Wants you.

He's finally picked up the pieces of him that fell apart after Jean’s death, and he is willing to pick up the pieces of you that fell apart after his rejection.

So, one evening, months after that fateful conversation on the lawn, you find yourself standing in the common room, staring at the fireplace, lost in thought. The mansion is quiet, the rest of the team either out on a mission or asleep. It’s just you and the flickering flames, the soft crackling of the fire the only sound in the room.

But when you hear footsteps behind you, heavy and deliberate, you know instantly who it is. Without turning, you can sense his presence, the way he moves with that quiet confidence, the way the air seems to shift when he is near. Logan has always had a way of grounding you, even when you don’t want him to.

He walks up beside you, stopping just short of touching you, his warmth radiating in the small space between your bodies. He doesn’t say anything at first, doesn’t ask why you’re here or try to force a conversation. He just stands there, his hands shoved into his pockets, waiting patiently, giving you the time you need. It’s something you’ve come to appreciate about him in recent months—his newfound ability to just be, without pushing or demanding more than you’re ready to give.

"I’ve been thinking," you say finally, your voice soft, as you continue to gaze into the flames.

"Yeah?" Logan asks, his tone careful, as if he’s afraid of saying the wrong thing.

You turn to face him, your heart pounding in your chest. "You’ve been… different. Doing all these little things… I see them, you know."

Logan’s eyes meet yours, and for the first time in a long time, you see hope there. "I just wanted you to know that I care. That I’m sorry," he says, with so much emotion. “You were never a burden to me.”

You swallow hard. "It’s hard for me, Logan," you admit, "I’ve been hurt before, and I’m scared. Scared that if I let myself love you again, you’ll just… break me."

He steps closer, his hand reaching out to gently cup your cheek. "I’d never hurt you again," he says, "I’d rather cut off my own damn hand than hurt you. The past is the past, and you are my future."

That’s enough to make your walls crumble completely. You know, deep down, that Logan is telling the truth. That he’s willing to do whatever it takes to earn your trust again.

And in that moment, you realize that maybe, just maybe, you’re ready to let him.

You don’t say anything. Instead, you let your actions speak for you. You close the distance between you, standing on your toes as you press your lips to his in a gentle, tentative kiss. Logan freezes for a split second, as if he can’t believe this is really happening, but then he kisses you back, his arms wrapping around you as he pulls you close, holding you as if he never wants to let go.

The kiss is slow, tender, full of everything that has been building between you for so long. It isn’t just a kiss—it’s a promise, a commitment to try again, to rebuild what has been broken. When you finally pull back, your breath mingling with his, you rest your head on his shoulder. "I’m still scared," you whisper.

"I know," Logan replies, his arms tightening around you. "But I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere. We’ll take this slow, darlin’. Whatever you need."

You nod. "Okay."

Logan smiles then, a real, genuine smile that makes your heart flutter in a way it hasn’t in years. It’s a smile full of relief, of gratitude, of love—a smile that tells you that he understands just how much this moment means, just how much you’re giving him by letting him back into your heart.

—

The time that follows is a slow, steady journey of rebuilding trust. Logan is true to his word—he is patient, understanding, and surprisingly tender in ways you hadn’t expected. The small gestures continue—coffee waiting for you in the morning, a gentle hand on your back during missions, quiet moments of companionship where no words are needed.

You can feel the doubts you’ve been holding onto slowly begin to fade. Each time Logan shows up for you, each time he puts your needs above his own, it chips away at the fear that has kept you guarded for so long. It’s in the way he listens when you talk, truly listens, as if every word you say matters. It’s in the way he looks at you—not with the same fury he once had, but with a steady, enduring affection that speaks of something deeper.

With Jean, he loved her because she was his soulmate, she was who the universe destined him to be with. He loved her because that’s what he thought he had to do.

With you, he has a choice. He doesn’t need to acknowledge the bond, but he chooses to. He chooses to everyday and he’ll never stop. He loves you because he wants to, not because he has to.

One evening, you find yourself sitting on the mansion’s porch watching the sunset. Logan joins you without a word, sitting close enough that your shoulders brush. 

“You’ve been quiet today,” he says softly, breaking the comfortable silence.

“I’ve just been thinking,” you reply, leaning your head on his shoulder. It’s a simple gesture, but one that speaks volumes about how far you’ve come in trusting him again.

“’Bout what?” he asks, his voice gentle.

“About us,” you say, your voice steady. “About how things have changed. How… how good they’ve been.”

Logan’s hand finds yours, his fingers lacing through yours in a way that feels so natural, so right. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you echo, squeezing his hand. “I’m not scared anymore, Logan. Not like I was.”

He turns to face you, his eyes searching yours. “You sure?”

You nod, smiling softly. “I’m sure. You’ve shown me that this bond means something to you, that you’re not going to hurt me. And… I want this. I want us.”

Logan’s face lights up with so much love, that it takes your breath away. He leans in, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. “I’m glad, darlin’. Because I want us too. More than anything.”

—

It isn’t long before the rest of the X-Men begin to notice the change in Logan as well. At first, it’s subtle—small things like the way he looks at you during briefings, or the way he seems to be more patient, more relaxed when you’re around. But over time, it becomes impossible to ignore.

During a training session in the Danger Room, you’re paired with Logan for a simulated mission. The others watch as Logan moves with you in perfect sync, his focus not just on the mission but on you—making sure you’re safe, supporting you when needed, and trusting you completely. It’s a far cry from the Logan they had seen when he was in mourning, where his moves were rash and careless.

After the session, as you and Logan leave the Danger Room, you catch sight of Ororo and Scott exchanging a look, the kind of look that speaks volumes, full of surprise and a touch of amusement.

“What?” you ask, raising an eyebrow as you approach them.

Ororo smiles warmly, a knowing glint in her eyes. “Nothing, just… noticing how good you two are together.”

Scott nods in agreement, his expression softening as he glances at Logan. “Yeah, it’s… different, finally seeing him like this. In a good way.”

Logan shrugs, but there’s no hiding the small smile that tugs at the corners of his mouth. “What’re you guys talking about?”

“Just that it’s nice to see you happy, Logan,” Ororo says gently. “Really happy.”

Logan looks at you then, his smile growing as he meets your gaze. “Yeah. It is.”

More members of the team begin to notice the change in Logan as time goes on. Rogue, who has always had a soft spot for him, comments on how he seems more at ease, less burdened by the weight of his past. Hank, ever the observer, points out how Logan’s demeanor has shifted—less brooding, more open. Even Charles, who has seen Logan through his darkest times, pulls you aside one day to express his approval.

“I must say,” Charles says, his tone warm and approving, “I haven’t seen Logan like this in a very long time. Whatever you two have managed to sort out, it’s working.”

And it is. Slowly but surely, the wounds that had once held you back have healed. The doubts that had kept you from fully embracing your relationship with Logan have faded, replaced by a deep, abiding love. It isn’t just the little gestures anymore—it’s the way Logan makes you feel seen, heard, and cherished in a way that no one else ever has.

—

“I never thought we’d get here,” you admit one night whilst looking up at the stars.

Logan looks at you, his expression tender. “Neither did I,” he says, his voice full of sincerity. “But I’m damn glad we did.”

You smile, leaning into him as he wraps his arm around your shoulders. “I love you, Logan. And I trust you. Completely.”

His grip tightens slightly, as if to hold onto the moment, to hold onto you. “I love you too, darlin’. I never thought I’d feel this way about someone.”

You know what he’s trying to say. So without thinking, you reach up and cup his face, drawing him closer until your lips are just a breath away from his. “Show me,” you whisper, your voice low and filled with desire.

He doesn’t need any more encouragement. He closes the small gap between you, capturing your lips in a kiss that is soft at first, almost tentative, as if he’s savoring the feel of you. 

You can feel the heat between you building, the kiss growing more fervent as your hands roam over his chest, feeling the hard planes of muscle beneath his shirt, then into his hair. Brown. 

His hands slide up your back, one hand tangling in your hair as he angles your head, deepening the kiss further until you’re both breathless.

When you finally pull back, your foreheads resting against each other’s, you’re both panting, your hearts racing in sync. His eyes are dark with desire, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he holds you close.

“You’re everything to me,” he murmurs. “I never thought I’d get my happy ending, but here you are… and I’m never lettin’ you go.”

You smile, feeling the last remnants of pain melt away, replaced by a certainty that this is where you’re meant to be. “And I’m never leaving,” you whisper back, sealing your words with another kiss that quickly reignites the fire between you.

This kiss is hungrier, more urgent, as if you both need to make up for lost time. Logan’s hands roam your body with a possessiveness that sends shivers down your spine, his touch igniting a fire in your core.

That night, you lose yourself in him, in the way he tastes, in the way he makes love to you as if you’re the most precious thing in the world. Because this time, you’re not just in love—you’re in love with a man who loves you back, fully and completely. 

And that makes all the difference.

----

a/n: i love you if you made it this far. please check out my new series The Feeling's Mutual

[undiscovered-horizon]

[To be loved is to be changed. And while being married to you has changed Mihawk, it's not entirely for the better. He's a possessive and protective lover to the marrow of his bones.]

(TW for unwanted sexual comments)

Mihawk knew the name 'Shantaro' quite well. Any time you told him a story from your adolescence that revolved around borderline illegal, unethical or simply reckless adventures, Shantaro was there. The little devil on your shoulder but as reliable as a true angel.

He, however, never expected you to run into Shantaro on the odd night when the two of you can go out. Comfortably basking in your presence, Mihawk is thoroughly enjoying your undivided attention.

Until.

You're suddenly rendered speechless as you notice something - someone - over his shoulder. A wide smile spreads across your face. Mihawk is unsure whether he should rejoice with how beautiful you look or seethe, knowing that another person dared to distract you from him.

"It's Shantaro!" you squeal excitedly. "I'm sorry, love, I'll be just a moment. I haven't seen her in ages!"

Mihawk doesn't even try to stop you as you make your way through the crowd at the lounge. His watchful gaze follows your steps as you approach a stringy woman in a silver dress. A hurricane of black curls sits on top of her head. Her piercing, grey eyes notice you, suddenly widening with both surprise and happiness. The two of you engulf each other in a bone-crushing hug, silently exchanging feelings of longing towards the closest friend from younger years.

The swordsman's night, however, is about to get even worse as he hears someone behind him whisper:

"She's a minx, that foxy wife of yours."

He turns around with his jaw and fists clenched. Mihawk's enraged gaze meets the face of an amused man who is casually sipping on his drink. There's a glint in the stranger's eyes that makes the swordsman's skin crawl - he wanted to get under Dracule's skin.

"Don't look so surprised," the stranger reprimands him. The man must have mistaken Mihawk's baffled expression at the bold words for genuine surprise that someone put two and two together. Truthfully, he couldn't care less whether people know that he's married. "Many pirates get hard fantasising about having their way with the Warlord's wife." Judging by the way the man licks his lips and hides a certain hunger behind his eyes, it's clear he's part of the aforementioned group. "But the Warlord himself? Unfortunately for him, she turns him soft," he drones the word as though it's a serious insult.

"Yes, she does," Mihawk answers slowly.

The events that followed happened exceptionally fast: Mihawk reached for the stranger's neck and slammed the man's head against the bar counter. Curiously, people happening to be in their vicinity carry on as though nothing bizarre is happening - they are smart enough not to get in Dracule Mihawk's way, especially when he is visibly upset.

Blood is gushing from the strange man's forehead, his eye already beginning to swell and change colour. The swordsman tilted his victim's head back just enough to lean down and growl. "Which is why I'm going to kill you much faster than you deserve for your offence."

Mihawk glances in your direction. You're still occupied, excitedly telling Shantaro about the years after you've last met her.

He'll be done before you notice him gone.

[suguru-getos]

"Please- please-" you raggedly breathe, knees scraping against the hard floor as Satoru dragged you by your wrist, a soft whimper escaping your lips. You had no idea why he had gotten so angry. You have been nothing but good. You're forced to stand up next, hard grip on your hair sure to give you migraines. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry I don't understand-"

This is the first time Satoru has been so silent, it terrifies you, the very marrow of your bones. He is big, tall, looming and so unwavering when he wants to be. Your hurt and panic breaks into a sniffle, lips parted to utter what he'd call a pathetic excuse of an apology. "What did I say, when I said I would be okay with you going out?" He raised a brow, and your pupils wavered in the bone-chilling coldness of his tone. Harsh blue eyes and pursed lips ready to attack his little prey. "Yo- You- you-" Fuck, you're stuttering. Just like you always do when you're scared and panicked. "Yo- You- you-… what. Did. I. Say?" Satoru hums, after mocking your tone.

You sniffled, "s-said to me to not go out apart from the estate premises."

"Do I need to make sure you listen to me in a different way?" For Satoru, it's simple. You have tried to run so many times that his patience has worn out, the constant fear of you going away is making him the monster he is now. The outside world is filled with curses, and bad things. You, are a non-sorcerer and you should know better. Besides, after today's incident. He is ready to do anything.

"Why the hell were you outside then?" He yelled, Satoru… doesn't really yell. The problem is, a special grade spirit was sighted near the store you decided to go see for yourself. While that's something rare, it's increasing his anxiousness a tenfold. What if you had been there, you had been a bag of fucking bones! "I just- wan' wan' wan'ed you know- I just-"

"Speak to me properly or I will break you in ways you can't take. Wouldn't let you walk for days." That causes you to cry out, why is he overreacting so much! Christ! He already has you here, rotting, against your will. You sobbed, heart racing and breaths shallowing.

Satoru was… tolerable… you wouldn't call yourself the unluckiest person in the world until today. He had abducted you, but he was never… this.

"Can’t talk to her or she will have a FUCKING panic attack." His jaw grits, holding you by the neck and pinning you against the wall. Your hands instinctively hold his wrist, but they're meek, sweaty with fear, and powerless. "If I see you step out again, I will kill everyone you hold near since you love watching me helplessly try to make you compliant, without hurting you, no?" Without hurting you… yeah right.

You nodded, "W- Won't step out." It's getting harder for you to speak with every second, eyes losing focus and fight or flight kicking in. Satoru's harsh expressions are blurring out, you were passing out.

And you do, fall limp against him. His feet impatiently tapping the floor once he sees you collapse. Another reminder of how you could die in an instant and leave him like Suguru did. A soft sigh escapes him once the throbbing headache kicks in. The high adrenaline calming down and kicking in with brutal headache. He lets you fall on the floor, ignoring the slight bruise in your head at the impact. You should know better. At least this is keeping you from not fucking dying.

He walks away to get the medication for his head, looking at himself in the mirror. He doesn't… look like himself. He leans in, watching the colour of his eyes greying. Something's wrong. That's when it kicks in.

Yandere Satoru was influenced by the same special grade curse he had killed. Why else were his thoughts so messy? You had escaped so many times but he always thought you'd just… understand one day.

A cold blood rushes through his spine once his cloudy thoughts clear up, and the idea of you passed out on the cold flooring floods him. Satoru has never been more quick to pick you up, cradling you close. Some part of him is happy, you wouldn't run away anymore. Another part of him is unsure if it's him truly thinking it, or if it's the curse's energy tampering with his own. A small part of him wants to die for putting you through this. Satoru Gojo needed to figure this out.

And then… he needed to build his relationship with you from scratch once he finds out what you did go out to buy. There were ingredients of his favourite Kikufuku. You were trying to make him… Kikufuku.

The small part of him that wanted to die isn't so small anymore. Months, if not weeks, it will take months to get you to love him like this again…

[upsidedownwithsteve]

A soulmate AU: Steve Harrington x fem!reader [2.6K]

THE TIMELINE

“Love is born into every human being; it calls back the halves of our original nature together; it tries to make one out of two and heal the wound of human nature. Each of us, then, is a ‘matching half’ of a human whole…and each of us is always seeking the half that matches him.”

- Aristophanes, Plato’s Symposium.

I. ATHENS, GREECE: 8TH CENTURY BC

The gods were angry.

Or so you’d heard. It started with whispers. Murmurs from the town and its people. Rumours spread across Athens the same way the breeze did at the start of summer. They said the gods were angry, furious.

How could the mortals be so silly? How could they possibly rile their gods like this? Again?

Stupid humans, foolish humans.

You didn’t understand.

But then one morning before the sun rose, you awoke to a reddened sky and a heavy wind, a storm brewing over the horizon, a dark mass you could see above the sea from your bedroom window. Preachers took to the streets then, standing on the cobbles with bells ringing above their heads, warning every person listening about the end of times. It had happened before, they said, their faces masks of horror. It was happening again.

The gardens all died, grass turning black, crops to dust, life fleeing from the ocean as Poseidon uprooted the seafloor, waves crashing against the cliff's edge. Athens turned to decay, colour slipping from the world as the gods ruled over it from the skies and sea. A punishment fit for the crime, the elders said, telling stories at the marketplace, of how their own grandparents had once been born together, joined at the heart, four arms and four legs.

One soul.

They said Zeus came from Olympus, that he’d crashed down to earth riding a bolt of lightning and he ripped the mortals apart. They said it was a bloodshed, rivers of red running through the plazas, wells turning thick like tar.

Zeus cursed everyone, you heard. Your kind had been getting too prideful, too full of ego and greed and want for more. The gods feared an uprising, they sat on their thrones and they resented to power you all craved.

So they did something about it.

With their wounds left to heal on their own over months and years, each half of a mortal was thrown to different corners of the earth, destined to spend the rest of their lives searching for the other half of their soul.

It seemed nothing more than a fable, a horror story for children, something you would never have believed. Soulmates? Someone made just for you? An impossible notion, you were sure you would have once thought, if you hadn’t already met yours.

He was at the forge when the first bolt of lightning hit the ground.

The concrete split and temples on the cliff sides shook, the tiles on each home shattering as they fell. You heard people yelling from your garden as the ground shuddered and an eerie quiet followed. A hollow silence, a calm before a storm and then something else hit the ground too.

Bigger, heavier, more powerful.

You dropped your basket and ran.

Still barefoot, you left the sodden clothes on the grass and fled, passing the sanctuary of your home, the temples beyond the rivers, the forests that came before the sea. You ran to the plaza, through the marketplace that was buzzing with fear, shoulders burning with pain as you slammed your way past everyone who ran against you. You were battling a tidal wave of townsfolk, each one crying and yelling.

You heard shouts of Titans! Furies!

People yelled out names they once didn’t dare whisper, each word said like a curse. Cronus, Crius, Oceanus, Thea. Standing on the marble steps of the Parthenon, a preacher in guided robes had blood running down the side of his face, a cut on his head matting his greying hair. He was ashen, clutching at his scribes and shouting at the frenzied crowd below.

“Tartarus has risen!” He yelled, “the gates of Hades have opened and we, foolish mortals, shall pay for our sins! The father of gods shall come for us, he shall feast upon thy flesh and bone and—”

The preacher's harrowing words were cut off abruptly as another crack in the earth opened up. The shining marble split and the man fell through, the world itself swallowing him whole. You didn’t have time to react more than a strangled cry coming from somewhere deep in your chest. You clasped your hand to your mouth, fearing you’d lose your breakfast, that you’d become too dizzy to keep moving.

The ocean was growing closer, too tall waves and swirling, dark pools buried into its depths. Ships were being sucked under, their white sails the last thing you saw before they were swallowed by Poseidon’s fury. A golden chariot raced down from the sky, sparks flying in the air as it landed on the roof of the Acropolis. More marble shattered and Ares, the god of war, had landed on earth to do his duty.

By the time you reached the forge, the plaza was running red, just like the elders had said it would. The bronzed statue of Hephaestus that guarded the entrance to the blacksmiths had come to life, the god himself taking its form as he spewed fire across the village, molten heat and steel dripping from his large hands, coal crumbling at his feet. The air smelled like ash, like fire and death.

As you searched for him - your other half - eyes wide and frantic, your chest heaving, Hades stood in the shadows across the cobbled road. Inky black dripped from him, from his robes, his skin, his mouth. He looked ghoulish until he stepped into what was left of the daylight, a trick of the sun turning his gaunt face handsome. He grinned at you, each tooth pointed and sharp and he held out a hand. A pomegranate was placed in his palm, the fruit cracked open and the ruby seeds spilling out of it like tiny jewels. He beckoned you, a voice in your head whispering, silky, sultry, full of promises that couldn’t be real.

Surely eternal damnation was better than a fate like this?

You moved, your body not your own, one foot in front of the other, your hand outstretched. Images flashed through your head, dark swirls of three headed dogs, rivers made of souls and gates of bones. But when they opened, there was a garden, more beautiful than the ones in Athens, with their marble pillars and fountains that led into ponds. In this garden, temples stood gleaming and tall, with maidens dancing amongst rose bushes, naked and with hair to their waists. They waved to you, more scarlet coloured fruit held in their hands and they were laughing, singing, pulling you closer--

Another bolt of lightning - bigger and louder and brighter than before - hit the ground and the maidens disappeared. The god of the underworld grinned once more before he stepped back into the shadows and turned to smoke, melting into the bloodied ground.

Zeus had landed in Athens.

And you couldn’t find Steve.

Steve Harrington, son of the town’s head blacksmith, was tending to the forge when the first god came to earth. He’d left you in bed, the threadbare sheets around you still warm, your skin littered with his leftover kisses, marks from his greedy fingers the night before. The sky had been scarlet when he walked across the plaza and in the far distance, a plume of smoke rose from what seemed like the ocean. The Methana volcano was simmering, waiting, spewing fumes of gas and dust.

A warning.

The forge cracked when Zeus arrived, the bricks splitting along with the forge floor, cobbles and bricks turning to rubble under the men’s feet. Fire and coal tumbled from the cast iron cages, half made swords of burning steel falling at their feet. The sky above rumbled, the windows shattering as bolts of lightning hit the land and people screamed, torturous sounds that made Steve run blindly out into the plaza.

Some were kneeling, their heads bent and their palms open to the sky, to the gods. A sacrifice that was ignored. Others ran, diving into buildings that immediately fell on top of them and Steve watched in horror as people dropped before him, falling like sacks, crumpled to the ground as they clutched their chests in agony. They called out their lovers' names, their voices hoarse, pleading, desperate and all at once, a crowd surged behind Steve, carrying him with them, his shoulders burning at the momentum.

He had to find you.

The market was in ruins, once fresh vegetables and fruits now smashed into the concrete, the smell of baked bread hidden under burning embers. Panicked horses fled their owners and carts, almost knocking Steve to the ground as they tried to escape the carnage. The sea level was rising, the shadows of boat sails towering over marble buildings, the hulls of ships teetering closer to pillars that once held the statues of the gods now seeking revenge. Steve had been raised to honour them, to covet them, to fear them.

And he’d never felt as scared as he did when he spotted you across the square, eyes wide and not yet finding his, your gaze too trained on the statue of Aphrodite that was crashing down too close to you. The white marble hit the floor and shattered, sending clouds of dust and dirt into the already smoke filled air and you disappeared from Steve’s sight once more.

Panic flooded him, a fear like no other and suddenly the gods that reigned from the seas and skies didn’t seem as terrifying anymore.

He yelled your name, choking on the fumes from the fires that had started to rage all around, Hephaestus riding a cloud of black coals and burning embers as he let fire pour from his palms and open mouth, a gaping maw of molten lava that dripped from and melted everything and everyone it touched. Steve flung himself to the ground to avoid the flames, crawling desperately forward before he caught himself and began to run again, hissing as the gaps in his shoes filled with shards of broken stone. Red poured from the soles of his feet but he didn’t think anything could hurt as much as the thought of losing you.

Again, he screamed for you, the letters of your name hitching in his throat, scratching like glass and more people tore in front of his path, running from the destruction. Bodies fell before him, couples forever trapped in a lovers embrace, their faces hidden in each other's chests. They became one again, four arms, four legs, two faces.

Joined at a heart that was no longer beating.

Steve didn’t want to die without you.

He found you in the rubble as Zeus moved closer, a grey and white shadow of a man, a huge hulking figure that didn’t seem real. He didn’t look like his marble castings, the statues that were gilded with gold leaf. He wore no olive laurel on his head, he bore no kind smile nor gentle eyes. Instead he held bolts of lightning in his hands like swords, like spears, throwing them at his victims with cruel precision.

A storm followed him, bigger than anything Steve had ever seen before. It turned the red clouds above the god purple and black, an inky slurry of darkness and electricity crackled between spaces. The air buzzed and Steve’s skin prickled, the static making his ripped and bloodied shirt cling to his damp chest.

Poseidon had finally shown himself, emerging from the waves, his skin a sickly green, his eyes darker than the deepest depths of the sea he came from. He held a triton, seaweed hanging from its points, his body scarred and battered from the horrors he created in the oceans. He seemed too big, a giant, an almost titan and rain poured from Zeus’ purple clouds as he advanced onto Athens.

Steve saw your arm, a limp hand from beneath a pile of stone and he cried as he lifted each piece of what was once Aphrodite. The marble face of the goddess of love smiled warmly at him and it felt mocking, it felt like an arrow to the chest.

You were still alive, barely awake, nose dripping blood and a slice across your forehead that narrowly missed your eye. You cried when Steve pulled you free, his strong arms wrapped around your torso and you clung to him, barely daring to look at the horrors that surrounded you. He smelled like smoke and fire and the metal sting of blood, but under it all, there was something like home that still lay on his skin.

He seemed frantic, calling your name over and over until you nodded and said his back, like it was only upon hearing your voice that he believed you were alive. Steve sat amongst the debris of Aphrodite and held you, your weak frame pulled into his lap and he cradled you there, your head on his shoulder and your arms around his neck.

You weren’t sure what you coveted more fiercely, the young man or your last breath.

A shadow lingered nearby, listening to the soft murmurs you shared the pretty lies you both needed to hear as you told each other it would be okay. Hades stood close, statuesque and with black plumes at the bottom of his dark robes, a midnight blue cast over his skin. He looked like he’d never been close to looking human. He held a timepiece in one hand, a golden thing that ticked too loudly and he grinned at you and Steve, watching, waiting as two creatures by his feet held scrolls of names. They were made od nothing kind, created from bone and other people’s spines, their too long tails and forked tongues that flickered over the skin of the dead as they sent their souls below.

Steve knew he’d fight a god before he let them take you.

But he didn’t get such the luxury of battling for his lover. Zeus moved closer still, rain pouring harder, electricity making his hair stand on end. The father of gods himself stood tall before you both, his eyes as white as his long hair and beard. Nothing about him softened as he gazed down at you both intertwined, blood from each other staining your lover's skin.

Steve pulled you closer, his hand cupping the nape of your neck as he pushed your face to his throat, shielding you, protecting you. You clung to him tighter, hands fisting in the rags of his old shirt and you wondered if you’d ever get to see him again. If this life was it, if this was all you were allowed.

The two of you in the ruins of Athens, the goddess of love shattered at your feet. Four legs, four arms, two faces, one soul. Connected by a heart that seemed weaker than ever in the presence of something cruel.

Silence came before the crack, the world stilling, Athens at peace. You found solace in Steve, your nose pressed to his neck as you held onto him, praying for something painless. You pushed two kisses to his skin then, the side of his throat that seemed to make your lips fizz and Steve sucked in a breath, his lips at your temple, cherishing the last touch he got of you.

“I love you,” Steve whispered and his voice cracked on each word. Tears from his eyes stream the dirt on his face, running rivers down your cheek until they mixed with your own. “I’ll find you again. In the next life, and the next again. I prom—”

A bolt of lightning, so hot it felt frozen, struck the breath of space between your chests. Something inside of you cracked then, ribs splintering as the weapon found your heart and you couldn’t feel Steve’s arms around you anymore.

You couldn’t feel anything.

[alittlebitofsainz]

- sunshine -

prompt: “you give me hope when the dark clouds fill the sky, you always find a way through, my little ray of sunshine.”

pairing: lando norris x reader

summary: they say first is the worst, second is the best, but what about if you were so close to first place? 100% inspired by the events of this weekend lando stop being so mean to yourself pls and thank u xoxo

warnings: lando being a miserable little so and so. the usual swear words.

a/n: I’m BACK! I moved house and then just became very busy and also rather uninspired. not sure if I’m 100% happy with this but I just wanted to post something!! missed u all heaps and heaps, hope to keep writing more very soon xx lyrics from track #67 sunshine by the brummies. thought this band were from good ol’ birmingham west midlands but turns out they’re from birmingham alabama

masterlist | the spotify wrapped collection

it wasn’t uncommon for lando to be like this.

he’d gotten a lot better over recent years, but every so often the self-criticism would creep in again. you could anticipate it coming; it would start with little comments, a muttered “lando, you fucking idiot” to himself here and there, self deprecating jokes to interviewers about that final corner where he’d gone off and ruined his lap. it could go on like that for a while, until eventually something would set him off properly, like a ticking time bomb that had gradually been building pressure until it was ready to explode.

“fuck sake.”

you watched as lando trailed through the garage, a string of curses muttered through gritted teeth as he passed, seeking solace from the TV cameras. admittedly, you could understand his frustration; even you had thrown your hands up in the air as he’d been squeezed out of first place on the very first corner. it was unlucky, but it was also his own fault for making a mistake: lando knew it, you knew it, and you also knew that he was feeling it. you watched him go past and disappear off down the corridor, no doubt heading for the solace of his drivers room. you paused, weighing up your options for just a moment.

“Lan?”

the echo of your knock on his drivers room door reverberated down the corridor. the mclaren motorhome was a ghost town, reminding you of the fact that everyone else was out celebrating - everyone but lando, rather ironically.

a noise came from inside the room, no doubt lando grumbling something inaudible under his breath as he made his way across the room, before the door eventually opened. you couldn’t help the sigh that escaped you - it had been such a long while since you’d seen him this way. it was subtle; the average person may not have even picked up on it, but you could always tell. It was his eyes, they somehow lacked the hues of green and blue they usually possessed, instead reflecting back a washed out grey colour, like the light had gone out from behind them.

“you got p2, Lan.” you reminded him softly as he stepped away, a silent invitation for you to come in. you knew those words wouldn’t help.

“it should’ve been p1.” came the mumbled reply from where lando had sunk back down on the sofa. you kicked the door closed behind you and made your way over to sit down beside him, your shoulder pressed into his.

“but you were so close, lan, a few more laps and you would’ve got him, I know it.”

“I know I was close!” your response had touched upon something lando didn’t want to hear, a fact you were made very aware of from the bitterness in his tone as he snapped back at you, “but I wasn’t close enough. I fucked up on that first corner. the team deserved better.”

you leaned back on the sofa, bottom lip caught between your teeth as you mulled over your next words. you’d been here before, in this vicious cycle where the more you tried to remind lando how incredible he was, the more he’d refute it, the more frustrated and self critical he’d become. one of those times, he’d told you that you wouldn’t understand, and it had hurt. it had hurt because you knew it was true. you didn’t understand. you didn’t understand how lando could be such a great driver and still best himself up over the smallest of mistakes.

“‘m sorry. didn’t mean to shout at you.”

you glanced up from where your gaze had drifted down to your lap as you’d been considering your response, only to find your eyes locked with lando’s grey ones, full of something you quickly identified as remorse. he’d mistaken your silence, assumed that you’d been wounded by the sharpness in his tone, when in reality you had barely registered it - you knew his fleeting anger wasn’t directed at you. it was directed at himself.

“no, no, don’t worry ‘bout it. I was just thinking, that’s all.” you sat back up quickly, shaking your head as you forced your expression to soften, “I know there’s nothing I can say to make this better, to make you see how well you did today, but-“

“just you being here is enough.”

the reply with which he cut you off was so quiet that you had to tilt your head and give lando a questioning look, one that told him you weren’t quite sure you’d heard him right. he let out a soft sigh, eyes directed to the floor, the faintest hint of red colouring his cheeks as he cleared his throat.

“I said, you being here is enough. with me.” he clarified, voice just a little louder than before.

“Lan, there’s nowhere else I would be right now, you know that.” you dropped your voice, matching his soft tone. an instinctive hand came to rest upon his knee, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“I just mean-“ lando shifted slightly to face you, expression swimming with a quiet admiration, “I don’t always make it… easy.”

you let out a chuckle at that, despite the situation, and it earned you a raised eyebrow and the smallest hint of a smile from lando.

“what I’m trying to say is,” lando continued, “I really appreciate you sticking with me. not just now, but, like, through everything. even when I’m like this.” lando gestured vaguely around the room, but he didn’t even need to for you to know exactly what he meant.

“even when you’re grumpy.” you clarified helpfully. that one earned you a playful scowl.

“I wasn’t gonna put it like that.” he complained, but his tone was lighter than before. “and anyway, I was trying to be serious, don’t ruin it.”

you held your hands up in mock surrender and stifled another laugh, before letting out a soft sigh, observing lando quietly for a moment.

“I’m always on your side, Lan, even if you’re not.” the sincerity in your tone was reflected in your expression as you held his gaze for a moment more, before dropping your head onto his shoulder, his hand finding your own as your fingers intertwined.

it was perfect and peaceful, until it wasn’t. until a knock at the door and the voice of lando’s pr manager brought you both back down to earth, reminding lando that it was time to go out and deal with the interviews. he let out a sigh, reverting back to the solemn state you’d found him in, and you wished you could make it all go away, to tell all the reporters to fuck off. but as you flicked your gaze back to lando, catching his eye as he stood up and smoothed the base of his fireproofs, you realised that he was going to be fine: he flashed you a lopsided smile, and for a moment the afternoon sunlight caught his eyes, the flecks of blue and green dancing across them once again. yeah, you were both going to be fine.

you flashed him a final smile as he slipped out of the drivers room, leaving you alone in there with your thoughts until he returned.

a/n: as always, I might add more to this if I feel so inclined! let me know if you want to be tagged xo

[azrakaban]

Augophile - Theodore Nott

N: RIGHT BITCHES! IT'S AU O'CLOCK! This is my first soulmate au, sorry if it's cringe <3 p.s. English is my first language but sorry anyway if there's any miss spellings

Requests: Still open <3

Requested by: Piss_Witch

Summary: AU where once you turn sixteen, you lose the ability to see colours until you meet your soulmate. But what if they don't want to see your colours?

Warnings: Angsty (a bit?), injury detail, i villainise McLaggen again <3 (He's racist for like one line and is a grade A asshole), mentions of amnesia, fluffy ending <3

Ships mentioned: Panstoria, Bluna

Dynamics: Grumpy X sunshine, miscommunication, soulmates, friends to lovers, tall and calm, short and excitable

Soul-mate. Soul-mate. Soul-mate.

Your heart beat in time with the words you'd been hearing all week long, unable to shake the excitable feeling that comes with approaching your sixteenth birthday.

Sweet sixteen held a meaning within teenagers, but a different one for magical teens such as yourself.

Having seen colours all your life, you were only partially prepared to lose sight of them all. You remembered Pansy's sixteenth, when she'd come downstairs crying.

"MY BI FLAG LOOKS LIKE SOME WEIRD ASS STRAIGHT FLAG!" She had sobbed, and you had comforted her until Astoria came into the room, and suddenly colours were visible again.

Your other friends weren't quite as lucky. Mattheo was unable to see colours, he stated plainly, while Theodore vehemently denied being able to see any colours at all. Just fifty shades of grey.

Draco was the youngest of the boys, and hadn't yet had his sixteenth. Blaise however was lucky, having been passing Ravenclaw dorm at the same time as a certain Luna Lovegood the week after his birthday.

And now here you were, in the week leading up to your birthday, saying your final goodbyes to colours.

"I'm going to miss seeing brown." You said idly as you fiddled with a blanket, lying across a couch in the Slytherin common room.

Draco snorted. "You'll miss brown? Why? It's such a boring colour." You sat up, indignant. "It's not. Cinnamon, trees in autumn, gingerbread, old vinyls, paper, vintage cars, antique bookshelves..." You listed, and a smile quirked at the corner of Theodore's mouth as he read.

"I think I'm just going to miss all the colours." You confessed.

"Our little Augophile." Blaise chuckled. You gave him a confused look. "Someone who loves colours." You thought for a second. "Sounds about right." You grinned.

The corner of Theo's mouth quirked again, but he looked back down to his book.

"I don't know if I'm ready." You said, sighing. The atmosphere of the room shifted instantly. "What do you mean?" Pansy said, unsticking herself from Astoria for a second.

"I mean I'm nervous. What if we're too similar? What if I hate them?" You said, stressing. "What if they hate me? WHAT IF IT'S DRACO." You yelled the last part, horrified. The others laughed.

Draco grimaced. "Thanks, l/n." You smiled. "Any time ferret." He glared at you, but you were too busy spiralling. 

"What do you want in a soulmate anyway, y/n?" Lorenzo asked, looking mildly curious. 

"Umm... nice, able to cook, ideally he'd be able to read, but given people like Crabbe and Goyle go to this school, that's not a guarantee..." You said, recieving a laugh. "My friends need to like him, and he needs to be willing to defend me." You said, finishing. (DON'T. MINDS OUT OF THE GUTTER.)

"So... the bare minimum?" Mattheo said sarcastically. "Omg, babe, the bare minimum? You shouldn't have..." He rolled his eyes, laughing.

"I'm just kind of praying to a spiritual thing or whatever that they're not an asshole. That would suck." You said, fiddling with your hair.

Theo gently pulled your hand away from your hair. "You'll make your hair greasy." He said, not looking up.

You smiled and turned back to the conversation. "Look, y/n, I find it unlikely that the universe would give someone like you a bad person as a soulmate. I mean, that would be like you and me being together. Or you and Theo. It just wouldn't work." Mattheo said, shaking his head with a smirk.

"Right?!" You said, laughing softly. Theo stiffened slightly, unnoticed by everyone but the elder Riddle, who sat back reading a muggle book you had leant him.

You noticed Tom's smirk and turned to look at him. "What's on your mind Tomothy?" You said, smiling.

"Just Tom is fine, n/n. And I am merely amused by two characters in this story. Neil and Todd I believe? The two of them seem... rather well matched." Tom said idly. You smiled as Mattheo craned his neck to look at the book.

"Dead Poet's society?" He said, wrinkling his nose. "How do they write if they're dead? Ghosts don't have a present form to write with..." He frowned.

You laughed. "They don't write the poetry. Well, they do, but later on. They're obsessed with a poet called John Keats." Mattheo interrupted you.

"Sounds boooring, I don't wanna know." He said, groaning. Tom rolled his eyes as your smile faltered slightly. Theo noted that.

"I want to know." He said, placing his book carefully to the side, 'The secret history'.

You smiled. He had no idea what he was getting into.

You then spent the next two hours explaining the plot of dead poets to Theodore, who was, surprisingly, an avid listener. He asked questions in the right place, and although his expression didn't say much, he didn't move away or interrupt you, so you assumed he was interested.

"So... to be clear, they were never actually together, but you wish Neil and Todd were?" Theodore concluded. You nodded, brushing tears away from your eyes. A sniffle was heard from behind you, and you turned to see Lorenzo wiping his eyes with a tissue.

"My poor little homosexuals..." He said, looking genuinely sad. You and Theo exchanged a look, trying to work out if he was serious or not, which apparently he was, as you found out later. Theo awkwardly patted his back, trying to console him to the best of his ability.

You giggled to yourself, picking up your book and heading upstairs.

Theodore called after you. "Y/N!"

You turned, looking back at him from the steps to your dorm. "Yeah?"

"You're coming to the match tomorrow right?" He said hesitantly. "Gryffindor versus Slytherin. Matt's been pushing us hard, should be a good game." He continued, trying to gauge your reaction.

You nodded, smiling. "Oh yeah. I'll be there." You said, waving before you headed up to bed.

Theodore smiled to himself, before picking up his book again. You'd be there.

"TEN POINTS TO SLYTHERIN!" Lee Jordan's voice rang out across the stadium, amplified by his magical megaphone. You looked on excitedly as Enzo scored another goal for Slytherin, taking the lead from Gryffindor.

Gryffindor were clearly starting to get slightly worried, and their new beaters, Kirke and Sloper were clearly losing their nerve. They needed a distraction from the game, to give Gryffindor a lead.

They needed to take out someone who the entire Slytherin team would care about enough to stop the game for a moment.

They needed to take out you.

Throughout the game, Theodore's eyes flickered to you, making sure you were still watching. And every time he looked, there you were, eyes trained on the game and a happy smile on your face.

Theodore batted a bludger at Ginny Weasley, which Sloper deflected perfectly... until it wasn't perfect anymore.

The bludger came speeding towards you, too fast for you to move.

There was a sickening crunch, and then everything went black.

one week later

"-Mr Nott you need to leave, she needs rest and she'll probably be rather disorentated when she wakes-"

"-I don't care, I'm not leaving her like this."

"Huh?" You mumbled, eyes fluttering slightly before they opened a fraction.

A face swam into vision, looking down at you with a concerned frown. You felt a flash of something in your chest, and then the face came into colour.

"Careful, Mr Nott, she will be emotionally fragile after such damage." The woman's voice tutted as she bustled away.

It took you a minute of squinting to bypass the amnesia before a name came to you.

"Teddy?" You mumbled, and the figure rolled their eyes with a small smile.

"You haven't called me that since we were eight, y/n." The figure said, sitting back in the chair beside the hospital bed you were apparently in.

Right, y/n... that must be you. 'Teddy' frowned.

"Yes it's you, why wouldn't you be y/n?" He said, looking concerned, and you realised you had spoken aloud.

"She probably has some level of amnesia, from her head injury. She's also on a lot of pain meds, and may be a little honest." The lady said, bustling away near you. Teddy's mouth set into a hard line.

"Quel maledotto idiota. Non guarda dove sta colpendo quella dannata cosa, no, la colpisce semplicemente ovunque gli piaccia dannatamente." He grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose as he lapsed into his mothertongue. (That fucking idiot.  He doesn't look where he's hitting the damn thing, no, he just hits it wherever he damn well pleases)

"Uh, sorry, I don't speak Ravioli." You said, peering up at him curiously. "What did you say?"

"It doesn't matter." He said, shaking his head. "What do you remember from Saturday?" He said, looking at you intently.

You wrestled with your brain for a moment, trying to bypass your amnesia. "I remember walking to the quidditch stadium... and watching you. You were very good." You said absent mindedly, not noticing how that surprised him.

"I didn't know you were watching me particularly tesoro." He smirked, and you frowned. That name had stirred something in you... THEO! That was his name.

"I always do, I don't want any of you guys to get hurt, you're my best friends." You said, seeming confused as Theo's smirk dropped.

Right. Of course you wouldn't be watching just him. That would have been ridiculous. So why did he feel disappointed?

"But that's all I remember. What else happened?" You said, looking interested.

Theo hesitated. Did he tell you? Aw what the hell, you were going to find out anyway.

"You were watching the game with Pansy when an unnamed beater on the Gryffindor team threw a hissy fit and hit a bludger at you. I say unnamed because although I know exactly who it was that hit it, I couldn't be bothered to learn his name. Perhaps you can identify him?" Theo nodded towards a figure lying in a bed a few beds down to your right.

You craned your neck to see. They seemed to have a broken nose, and several bruises covering their face, making them look like some strange purple smurf.

"The grumpy lady said I have amnesia right? So honestly, given he looks like a bruised potato, I have no idea who that is." You said, smiling slightly, before looking again, this time noticing the patients name written on a get well soon card. 

"Actually, now that you mention it, a name does come to mind... A Jack Sloper I think?" 

Theo frowned, looking at the boy again. "If he's that recognisable, Tom and I clearly didn't do a good enough job." 

You giggled. "It's on his card, Teddy. His get well soon card. He probably needs all the well wishes he can get, given his current state."

Theo's lip twitched, and you saw a hint of a smile. "Glad to be of service." You smiled, which then flipped into a frown. "But... the scottish lady... what's her name... Old MacDonald?" At that Theodore laughed, a deep laugh that was all all too rare noise. 

"McGonagall, y/n." You beamed. "Right, thanks!" He shook his head, smiling at you. "Anyway, McGonagall, there's no way she let you get away with this." At that, Theo winced. 

"That bad huh?" He grimaced, and you braced for impact. "Two months detention." He said, shaking his head. You sighed. "Not expelled then." Theo looked shocked. "God no tesoro, she was rather sympathetic to my cause actually." You straightened. "Which was?" 

Theo frowned. "He hurt you y/n, I couldn't just let him get away with no repercussions." You looked confused. "You didn't beat up that Hufflepuff guy when he broke our blonde friends name..." You searched for a name, racking your brain. 

"Astoria, and I won't tell her you forgot her name, lest she murder you in cold blood." Theo chuckled lowly. You smiled gratefully, then remembered your question. "So, why'd you beat up Sloper and not the Hufflepuff when he hurt Astoria?" You asked softly, fiddling with your pale cream bedsheets.

"Perché Astoria non sei tu." He rolled his eyes. (Because Astoria isn't you.) 

You frowned. "There you go again with the ravioli. What's special about me? I can't mean much more than her." Theo hesitated, as if he'd made a mistake. "You're not special. I've just known you longer, you're an obligation, not a choice, y/n." He replied, voice slightly cold. 

That hurt, and he saw it in your face, internally cursing himself. This is why it was stupid to be close to you, he'd just end up hurting you with stupid words and silly lies and ridiculous promises.    

"I know. Don't worry." You whispered, eyes roving over the vibrant colours of the flowers on Sloper's bedside. "But you don't need to fight for me, Theo." Unknowingly, that hurt Theo. 

You'd said you wanted a soulmate who would defend you, and now that he'd done it for you, you were saying you didn't need him to. Clearly you didn't want him to be like your ideal soulmate. You didn't want him. And not only that, he was Theo again. Not Teddy. Just Theo, what everyone else called him. Well, everyone else he cared even a little for. 

"I know, don't worry." He replied coldly, standing and leaving. You felt horrible. He'd fought for you, risked his safety, and you'd rebuked him. You hoped he wasn't too upset over it. Something in you felt wrong when he was upset. 

He came back in after a moment. "Y/N, I'm sorry." He sighed. "This has probably been a lot for you. And I know what you're saying, don't feel bad. I gotta go to detention though, okay Tesoro? I'll see you later solare." He kissed your forehead and then left. And everything felt better. (Darling, sunshine)

A month had passed since you were freed from the jail of the hospital wing and you were flying high, except for the fact that you had hardly seen Theo, given his two months detention. You missed your best friend, least of all because of the major crush you'd been harbouring for a year or so.

You had been reminded of the existence of soulmates, but were still not sure how people knew they were soulmates, and hadn't wanted to ask for fear of being thought stupid. Unfortunately, you were about to find out. Or, think so.

"Y/N!" A voice called after you as you walked out of class. You span, and noticed Cormac McLaggen watching you with an unreadable expression. 

"Yeah?" You replied uncertainly. 

"Can I talk to you for a moment? It's really important." He called. You nodded carefully, following him. 

"I know this must come as a shock, but we're soulmates." You started. "What?" You were confused.

"I know, it shocked me too, I had no idea, it doesn't feel real. I'm so happy, though. I knew we were meant to be together." He said excitedly, smirking. "How... How do you know?" You asked, trying to look indifferent. 

"Well, I know you forgot how soulmates work, but the man in the relationship can always tell. You feel this weird pull towards her, and then you just know. I know you can feel it too." He said, so convincingly. 

You looked at him. He looked so convinced, so excited. How could you tell him you couldn't feel it? "Yes, I feel it." You said, trying to sound convinced. He looked surprised for a second, before his face relaxed. "Good, good! So, can I take you out?" 

You thought for a second. He was your soulmate after all. "Okay, sure." You put on a bright smile. 

"Awesome, meet me in Hogsmeade this weekend then." He said, walking away. Was that it? Your soulmate? You thought it would be more. A magical flash of light, some weird pull... but nothing. But he was. He was. So you would push through. 

(A month later)

You were in your dorm bathroom with Pansy and Astoria, getting ready for a date with Cormac. He wasn't a perfect soulmate, but he was okay? Right? He forced you to spend an awful lot of time with him. As a result, you'd barely seen your friends since he spoke to you the first time. As for Theo... you hadn't seen him properly since the hospital wing, besides a few group hangouts, due to his detention, which had finally ended tonight. And you missed him. 

"-Y/N!" A voice called you and you snapped out of your thoughts. "Hmm? Yes sorry?" 

"I was asking how it felt for you when you first saw colours again. You know, when you first looked at McLaggen." Astoria said, smiling.

You frowned. "What?" Pansy looked confused. 

"You know, when you look at your soulmate, and the colour comes back into your life after the grey." Pansy said, trying to prompt your memory. "Maybe your memory still isn't all there." She said sympathetically. 

"When you turned sixteen, you would have lost the ability to see colours for a bit, until you saw McLaggen." Astoria explained, smiling. "I was asking how it felt for you to see colours again." 

You froze, tensing up. You had been able to see colours before you see Cormac. You had been able to see colours way before then. Oh god. Why had Cormac lied to you?

"Y/N? So, how'd it feel?" You jerked back into consciousness. "Umm, yeah, it felt good." You said, and realised they were watching you. You noticed your expression had dropped and upped the wattage of your smile. That put them off for a little, at least until you were gone. 

You decided to wait near the library, which was where Cormac had said he'd meet you. Let the waiting begin. As you waited, you began to wonder. Was Cormac even your soulmate like he said he was? He'd have no reason to lie about that. And even so, if you'd always been able to see colours, maybe your soulmate was dead? That made sense. Maybe your soulmate was dead, and Cormac knew, so he replaced him. 

You frowned. That was ridiculous, nearly Aaron Warner level delusional. And McLaggen still wasn't there for you to ask. 

And little did you know, he wouldn't be for quite a while. 

Theo's POV

Finally, a night without detention. It had been a seriously long time since he'd had a free night, and he revelled in it. Not that it hadn't been worth it, Sloper would be much careful with his bat now, and he'd managed to get an apology to you. Not without Theo threatening him though and Tom glaring at him ominously. 

Although having to babysit a load of excitable and enthusiastic first years was not the way anybody would want to spend every Tuesday. How were they so happy? And enthusiastic? And not absolutely drowning in homework? No, Theo couldn't understand it. But hey, they were at least invested in learning chess, which he taught them with great patience. Tom, not so much. 

He had been asked to tutor second years, and reduced a poor Ravenclaw girl to tears, earning him another additional day of detention. 

Theo slid down onto a couch in the common room with Blaise to his left. Dracp clapped him on the back, grinning. "Welcome back to having a social life, Nott." Theo grimaced slightly, but let a smile grace his face.

"Catch me up then, what did I miss?" He said, trying to seem nonchalant, when in reality, he was dying to know the castle gossip. Not that he'd ever tell Pansy and Astoria, they'd hound him for eternity. 

"Umm... let me think. Oh yeah, so, Anna Dbrovnik in 7th year had a pregnancy scare, but it was okay because it turned out she hadn't even had sex, Lavender Brown has a crush on Ron Weasley, and Y/N and Cormac McLaggen started dating." Astoria reeled off, noticing Theo's face harden and him sit up at her last words. 

"What?" He said lethally quietly. "Oh yeah, turns out he's her soulmate, which none of us really saw coming, and now they're going out. Weird right?" Pansy continued brightly, obviously aware of what she'd just done.

"I didn't know it was possible to have two soulmates." Theo said quietly. Seven heads turned his way. "Alright man, what the flip?" Said Lorenzo, earning a badly disguised giggle from Mattheo. 

"Y/N's my soulmate, and now I find out I have to share her with McLaggen?" Theo spat bitterly. Some cruel trick of nature. "That's not possible. Everyone only has one soulmate, it's written into the laws of the universe or something." Tom said, trying to appear indifferent. 

"So that means either you're lying, which I doubt, or McLaggen is. WHAT A LITTLE WHORE!" Astoria screeched, furious on your behalf. "Alright, calm down babe." Pansy grabbed her shoulders, pulling Astoria back and kissing her head. 

"I WILL NOT BE SILENT! SOME UGLY GRYFFINDOR HOE HAS DECIEVED MY BEST FRIEND!" Astoria said, voice raising in decibels with each syllable. 

Pansy thought for a second, and then realised something. "She already knows."

There was a sharp intake of breath from several people, before Blaise asked the all important question. "How do you know?" 

Pansy slid down onto the sofa. "She froze up when we asked her how it felt to find out McLaggen was her soulmate. We mentioned the whole colours thing and she looked so confused, she clearly didn't know that that's how it works. How did we not see that?" Pansy groaned. 

Theo coughed. "So... if she knew he wasn't her soulmate and knew he'd been lying to her, why did she still go to him?" He said, trying to douse the flame burning in his chest with water. 

"Knowing Y/N, that's not going to be a date for her, it's going to be a confrontation." Draco smirked. The water became gasoline, the fire burning it's way through his body before reaching his brain and shocking him into motion.

"I have to tell Y/N. I have to at least talk to her, even if she rejects me." Theo said, standing quickly. Pansy scoffed. "Yeah, as if she's about to reject you." Astoria giggled, and Theo froze. 

"What?"

Theo, you're almost as blind as Astoria without contacts." Astoria stopped giggling and glared at her girlfriend, who gave her an apologetic look. "Y/N's had an itty bitty massive crush on you since you were kids, Theo." Pansy said, rubbing his shoulder sympathetically. "So don't screw this up, or we'll all hit you to Pluto." She said brightly. Theo turned to the group. 

"That true? You'd all hit me to Pluto if I hurt her?" There was a collective silence, and Theo exhaled. "Wow, thanks guys." He said sarcastically. 

"I'd only hit you to mars, but that's because of cracky joints." Enzo offered. Theo rolled his eyes, standing and leaving the common room, speed walking down corridors to try and find you. 

"WRONG WAY! SHE'S AT THE LIBRARY!" Pansy called after him. He flushed, before turning and running the correct way. 

...

Your POV

You had been waiting just under half an hour for McLaggen, with him still no show. You sighed quietly, before beginning to walk away from the library, wandering aimlessly towards the Gryffindor common room to try check on him. 

You had barely got a corridor away when McLaggen appeared infront of you, chest heaving and out of breath. "GOT- HELD- UP- WITH- UH... HOMEWORK!" He wheezed, catching his breath. Your eyes quickly roved over him, taking in his appearance. You noticed his half done belt, and a lipstick print on his ruffled collar, his rumpled shirt.

You didn't have to be a Ravenclaw to work that one out. But instead of feeling upset, or angry, or mad.. you felt nothing. Maybe a little disappointed, given you thought he was better than that, but honestly? Recent events had dissipated the few shreds of respect you still had for him. 

"Yes, I'm sure homework can be incredible distracting." You said quietly. He didn't appear to notice. "Right so, shall we go?" He said presumptuously. You shook your head. 

"Actually, I wanted to talk to you." You said nervously. He groaned. "Y/N, you talk too much, we'll be late." He said, rolling his eyes, gripping your wrist and attempting to pull you along. A few students looked on at this. You bit back a retort, wrenching your wrist from his grip. 

"Why'd you tell me we're soulmates?" You asked carefully. He turned, shock evident on his face as his hand became clammy. "Because we are, babe. Come along now." He said through gritted teeth. You shook your head vehemently, as Theodore and a few of your other friends came around the corner, out of breath, Theodore in front.

"I could see colours before I saw you. You took advantage of me, and you lied to me. I want to know why." You took a step closer, glaring at him. 

He took a step back, a smirk crossing his face, which you felt a burning urge to slap. "Calm it, Y/N, or I'll think you're confused. You sure you don't need to see madam Pomfrey?" He said in mock sympathy, obviously trying to get a laugh out of his audience. No-one laughed. 

Theo stepped forward, coming to stand beside you. "You can do this, Tesoro. Don't let him gaslight you." He whispered to you. You smiled. Cormac frowned.

"What are you saying to her?" He glared. 

"I'm telling her the best way to dismember you without getting caught." Theo deadpanned, smirking at you with that signature look of his. You grinned up at him, and Tom raised an eyebrow. "You're talking about method five right?" He said, frowning.

Theo rolled his eyes. "I was being sarcastic, but yes, if I was to tell her I'd use that one." Tom nodded and returned to his position against the wall. 

"You're being stupid, Y/N. You know I'm your soulmate, so stop being so ridiculous." He scoffed, pulling you towards him. Theo gently pulled you back, pulling McLaggen's hands off of you with such force that he winced. 

"You don't touch her, Signor Piccolo Cazzo." Theo taunted, glaring. He pushed you behind him. "You don't get to walze in here, gaslight her and act like she's the problem. È incredibile e tu non meriti di pulirle le scarpe." (Mr Small dick) (She's incredible, and you are not worth of wiping her shoes.)

McLaggen clenched his fists, clearly not knowing what Theo was saying, but getting the gist of it. "Look it's none of your goddamn business Nott, just fuck off back to your own country." You started at that, walking forward and slapping him across the face. Cormac reeled. 

"FUCK Y/N? WHY WOULD YOU HIT YOUR SOULMATE?" He yelled, clearly playing the victim. No-one came to help him. 

"She's not your fucking soulmate." Theo said, lethally quiet. You were surprised. How did he know that?

"YOU CAN'T PROVE THAT NOTT, CAN YOU? HOW DO YOU KNOW?" McLaggen taunted him. And that was Theo's breaking point. 

"BECAUSE SHE'S MY SOULMATE. SHE'S MEANT TO BE MINE, AND I'M FUCKING HERS, AND MERLIN DAMN ME IF I LET A STRONZO LIKE YOU STEAL HER HEART." Theo exploded, towering over McLaggen. 

You froze. Looking at Theo. Looking at McLaggen. Looking at Theo. Him looking at you.

 "It's you." 

It wasn't a question. It was barely a statement. It was a truth, unknown until now. 

"Whatever. You were a fucking bet anyway." Cormac said, rolling his eyes. At that, Theo turned, and you gripped his wrist, pulling him away from McLaggen. 

"I don't want you to get in trouble." You whispered to him. 

"Solare, right now I couldn't care less." He murmured to you. You smiled, shaking your head. "I don't think we need to do anything." You gestured to a furious Ravenclaw girl. 

"You said you'd broken up." She glared at Cormac. "Y/N, girl, I swear I wouldn't have gone near him if I'd known you were still together." She said, turning to you apologetically. You shook your head, smiling. 

"Don't worry." She smiled gratefully, before her friends dragged him off, no doubt to violently insult him.

You turned back to Theo, before you hugged him tightly. He started, before he wrapped you into a hug, putting his chin on your head. (Before someone says something about being a pick me short girl, I'm literally 5'2 irl lol I'm basing this off of my height and experiences (or lack of)

"So..." You whispered, looking up at him. He smiled down at you, that small smile reserved only for you. 

"I know." He exhaled. 

"Why didn't you tell me? It's not like you didn't have time, hell, you must have known like eight months?" You said, upset. 

"I wanted you to come to me because you like me, not because we habe some soul connection. And I was pretty sure I was the last guy around that you'd want as your soulmate. When you described your ideal soulmate, you said someone willing to defend you, and when I did, you told me I didn't need to. I was confused, Bella." He said desperately.

"I told you you didn't need to because I hate seeing you hurt! It physically pains me, Teddy." Theo tightened his hold on you at that. "I really really care about you Theo, and that's probably because I'm desperately in love with you." You said, cheeks warming as you looked down. "You feel right. And you were the first thing I saw when I woke up, which is why I was always able to see colours." You realised.

You felt a hand on your chin, tilting your face up before a pair of lips met your forehead. Then your nose. Then each of your cheeks. The corner of your mouth. And finally, your lips.

Your first kiss with Theo was everything you had imagined in your little daydreams before bed to help you fall asleep. Except, this time, your brain hadn't just skipped to the good part, you had actually gone through and experienced all the build up. And god was it worth it. 

He pulled back after a moment, and your lips chased his, eliciting a chuckle from him as he kissed you back. 

"I love you like you are my oxygen. My sunshine." He murmurs to you, holding you close and pressing a kiss to the top of your head. You giggled.

"We've both been such idiots." You whispered, smiling. 

"Thank god Pansy told me you love me or this would have been mortifying." He smirked, laughing lowly. You gasped. 

"PANSY!" You struggled against the hands around your waist, attempting to get to her. "THEO- LET- ME- GO!" You glared at your soulmate as he chuckled.  

"Much as I'd love to see you try fight, love, I don't want you to hurt your friends." You glared. "WHY?!"

"You'd be sad in the morning." He said, smiling. 

"Seriously? That's your only objection?" Pansy looked unimpressed. 

Theo shrugged. "If it makes her happy." He smiled down at you, where you had given up in your attempts to escape and were relaxing back into his warmth. 

"Damn you and your stupid perfectness." You whispered to him, , and he leaned down and kissed you until you were smiling again.

A/N: My first soulmate AU! GAH! Hope you enjoyed, please leave a like, comment or reblog if you did, requests still open, have a good one <3

5.3K words

[bamgyw]

˚₊‧꒰ა ♡ c.bg; six nights ♡ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

summary: six nights of emo boy gyu sneaking into your room without your daddy knowing. aberrational catholic guilt ridden catcher in the rye wannabe porn document. afab reader x softdom!beomgyu. warnings: everything, unfortunately. minors dni. heavy smut ahead. lots of pretentious writing, too. catholic guilt and imagery. abusive behaviour, parental neglect. drug use. violence. everyone is sad. i’ll keep on updating part-specific tags. index: prologue: the house of god, first night, second night, third night, fourth night, fifth night, sixth night, dawn of the seventh.

prologue: the house of god

when daddy wanted to hide something from you, he would turn to his beloved bible. and ever since you turned fourteen, he had been holding on to a passage that he would repeat to you every night before going to sleep: 

"let no one say when tempted, "i am being tempted by god," for god tempts no one. but each person is tempted when lured by his own desire. then desire gives birth to sin, and sin brings forth death."

that is the only sex talk your daddy ever gave you. it was more of a sex mantra than a talk, or a warning, or even a prohibition. just a rule of nature that he wanted you to have engraved in your mind: desire is sin, and sin is death.

when daddy didn't want you to do something, he'd blame the rule on god. and there's little you could say against that. 

as you grew up, you realised that god might not be real, but daddy most certainly was. a punitive, disciplinary god. and one feels much more compelled to obey divine rule when god lives under your roof. when you can touch him, and he can touch you.

when god lives in your house and his wrath can tear your flesh apart not in hell, not in heaven, but in this life; you become more cautious than the most devoted of christians. so even when everyone in your grade started drinking, dating, having sex; you had it very clear that the priority was to protect yourself. not from the dangers of drinking, dating, or sex; but from daddy, that is to say, from god.

none of your friends from school understood it, that the fear of god was not irrational. you had scars and bruises that god had given you which you could perfectly show them. but then daddy would get in trouble. besides, he wouldn't like you showing your body around. 

none of them could ever understand what living with god was like, so they were the kind of people who would ask that stupid question; if god loves us, why does he hurt us? 

the first person to understand god was a boy called choi soobin. 

daddy had remarried choi soobin’s mom the year before you started college. she was a beautiful woman, lively and hopeful to start a second life after becoming a widow. it must be thrilling to get a chance at a second life when your first one has gone wrong. soobin’s mom could have been very happy in another universe. you felt sorry that she had stepped into daddy‘s trap. 

you had always wondered how daddy had managed to get a woman like her. bright, cultured and affectionate. but then you figured that maybe, as he was god, he didn't necessarily need to be yahweh, or elohim. he could also be zeus and disguise himself as a swan to kidnap and rape leda. 

you found out later that soobin‘s mom had never fully recovered from the passing of her first husband, and she often suffered from major depressive episodes. daddy saw that void in her, and her urgency to fill it. he forced himself into the hollowness of the void, and obstructed her veins, bones, and heart with the word of god.

soon enough, soobin’s mom had no limb or internal organ she controlled herself. she had once had colours, you remembered; rosy cheeks, a hazel head of hair, lips tinted with vibrant red. but daddy had turned her grey. 

soobin’s mom had been kind enough to see the good sides of daddy, you had liked her for that. but you regretted that she hadn't learned to hide her colors so that daddy couldn't steal them away, like you did. 

she became a shadow of herself, an almost non-verbal phantom trapped between the real world –that is, the confines of daddy's house– and the world of hopeful prayers and the salvation of soul.

the boy called choi soobin would never forgive daddy for that. but it was alright. you understood. in a sense, he had killed his mom. you had to love daddy because he had created you, but you didn't think choi soobin was obliged to. 

people said choi soobin had changed, too. that he used to be a gentle kid, polite and sweet, but he had turned hostile. that, like most teens, he had become self-absorbed and belligerent without a cause or that he had gotten those adolescent mood changes so late in his life because he was an attention seeker. people say things like that when they don't understand what living with god is like.

you were the only one who didn't believe daddy when he said that soobin had a demon inside. you knew better than that, you knew that daddy saw demons everywhere. but soobin’s own mom believed it. when daddy tried to exorcise the demon away from soobin with fist and blood, she looked away.

all that soobin had wanted by acting up against daddy was to save his mom. to bring her back from the dead. but after that betrayal, he stopped trying. 

soobin had never been violent towards you, though. not once. not even mean. you were the only one who understood him, the only one who told him he wasn't evil. you knew that god's tyrannical rule could break a person, fill them with hate. and so soobin and you became close, often talking against god. every whispered defamation, every blasphemy, the danger of it felt so exciting. not because of the mischievous sin, or because of the disobedience, but because you felt like you could speak your mind at last.

your first kiss was soobin. you felt loved when it happened, something you realised you weren't used to. the feeling bloomed throughout the following week as you hid from god's watchful eye to be together.

soobin told you a hundred times that you were the most beautiful girl in the world, kissing all over your face, clasping you as close to him as he humanly could. he would sneak his hand under your skirt and whisper, "don't think about him right now. it's just you and me." and though his touch never went very far in the magnitude scale of sin and punishment, it was enough to breathe a new life into you.

you sensed that a big part of why soobin wanted you so bad was because he got turned on at the idea of defying daddy, and groping his holy daughter was the greatest offence he could commit. but that was alright. you felt the same way. and you hoped that that hate-induced lust would turn into love, in time. you could then be happier, even in the house of god. 

or you could have been happier. because god is omnipresent. and he would soon act to see you separated. the blossoming flower was brutally ripped from the soil.

when daddy found out, he locked himself into the master bedroom with soobin one morning and didn't let him go until the sun began to hide. soobin left that room broken and dead in life, just like his mom, but he didn't have one single bruise. maybe daddy really was god, after all.

soobin never talked to you again. spoken, yes, but it was hollow. you never felt loved again. you learned a lesson that day: your pleasure brings pain to everyone around. the mantra became true. desire is sin, and sin is death.

so if there was any need left in your body to touch, to kiss, to lick, to possess or be possessed; you confined it to the darkest pit of your ribcage, way past your heart, never to be accessed again. 

until choi beomgyu came around.

he was the second person to understand god. but he had brought his lesson learned from home. he knew god’s ways even before he met daddy. he had a god of his own. you called yours daddy, he called his ‘that narcissistic sadist’. but strangely enough, you felt like they meant the same thing. 

choi beomgyu was sort of soobin's friend, if you could even call it that. they never labeled each other as such, never sought out each other's company for the sake of friendship. they just wanted to live through their loneliness while sitting in the same room.

beomgyu’s dad was a dealer. he made a living out of ruining people's lives, as beomgyu saw it. growing up, he had promised himself that he would never be like that, the kind of person who doesn't care about poisoning someone's body if that meant keeping the cash flowing. but as he grew up, he learned that it wasn't all black or white. that all of those fools kept showing at his father’s doorstep, like they had no other choice. like they enjoyed hurting themselves. 

beomgyu, like soobin, had become hateful. one of the things that bothered him the most was the "why me?" question. how unlucky he could have been to be born of such a father. but then again, he could run away. he could sort his shit out, get a job, never see his father again. but he kept going back. like he had no choice. like he, too, enjoyed hurting himself.

his dad barely knew he existed, and if beomgyu ever tried to make himself heard, he would silence him in cold blood. so any semblance of love or validation beomgyu could aspire to, he sought out with mathematically strategised plans. he craved the drug of attention and knew exactly where to get it.

he'd linger around fancy schools and church events, scoping out a certain type of girl. there was always a few of them going through a rebellious phase, desperate to go out with a bad boy and piss off their high-official dad. 

it didn't take much effort for him to get what he wanted. he was handsome enough to make it easy, and even though he was a spiteful nihilist, he could be charming on command. just a smirk, a tousle of the hair, and some cheesy lines like, "i'm messed up, but with you, i feel like maybe i could be better," or "you're too beautiful for a screw-up like me." and he would have them wrapped around his finger. 

he would bring them over to his place and fuck them rough on his drug-money-bought mattress. if there was shouting, or a gunshot coming from another part of the house, he'd fuck into them harder, muffling their fear with a rough kiss, using their panic to fuel his own twisted thrill. you fucking scared? i've gone through this crap every day since i was a kid. 

if he could crack the shell of a privileged princess, dragging someone along with him down to his mud, his pain would slightly numb out.

for just a little, but never enough.

that pattern of behavior didn't lead to happiness. not even to satisfaction. it was a vindictive way of muffling his pain with the aching moans of someone who had it easier. but in reality, it only pierced what was left of his soul, making him even more hollow. it was soobin who made him realize that.

until that day, beomgyu saw soobin as almost a kid—pitifully weak and too sheltered. but when he told him about his exploits of going after posh girls, soobin didn't applaud in shared bitterness as he often did.

beomgyu explained to him how hard he got seeing the fear in their eyes as they realised that the life he led, that freedom of the rebel, wasn't as cute and bohemian as they had romanticised.

soobin responded curtly. "and then what? you cum, the spell wears off and you stare at the ceiling in silence, thinking of how miserable you are." he said. "and then you feel guilty for being a piece of shit and using that girl as a blow-up doll. and because of that you feel even worse about yourself, which means becoming more hateful and ruining more people. its not a you thing, you're not that special. that loop has been said and done. probably how your dad feels after beating on you."

beomgyu was taken aback. he didn’t even find it in himself to get offended. he remained pensive for a while before saying, "hyung. do you think i'm a bad person?"

soobin replied; "i think you can choose not to be."

and beomgyu took the advice. he put an end to the hunter-gathering of rich girls. he respected soobin from then on, too. soobin had therefore been a good influence, one could say. or at least an influence beomgyu was willing to accept. he started hanging around your house more, to the point of almost never leaving.

you learned about him as if he were a mythological figure—someone everyone talked about but whose existence you couldn't confirm. as a friend of soobin, beomgyu was bound from the start by an unspoken rule to maintain the least possible contact with you.

beomgyu was made aware of that rule very early on. what he didn't know, because he had been misled, was your age. that's why he didn't think much of it at first; he thought you were a kid. so, whatever—he couldn't talk to soobin’s annoying little stepsister. big deal. he didn't care about kids anyway.

this, combined with the prison-like structure of daily life in that house—minimal time in common areas and endless hours rotting in your own cell—fulfilled daddy's command to keep your life and soobin's, and therefore boemgyu’s, completely separate.

but even though you hadn't seen choi beomgyu in person, you had been able to construct a fairly accurate forensic portrait of him, pieced together from your father's warnings about people like him.

about the piercings, daddy believed that the body is holy, and anyone capable of mutilating within sin. about the music they played when locked up for whole afternoons in soobin’s room, he believed that god is serene, and disturbing that peace is a sign of the devil. he considered long hair on a man an abomination, and much like the eccentric clothes, a mark of a sodomite.

daddy didn't approve of him, and saw him as no more than a threat to the sanctity of his home. but beomgyu was quick to remedy the situation.

beomgyu was most acquainted to the ways of gods. he knew they were capricious, proud and pathologically narcissistic. so he made sure daddy could see he was a troubled young man and played the role of the lamb seeking guidance. he convinced daddy that he could abduct him, like he had done with soobin and his mother.

when soobin recounted the scene to you, his voice had sounded more hopeful, more full of admiration than you had ever heard. "he went to your dad and talked to him as if he was the buddha. said that he was lost and needed someone to guide him on the right path." soobin said. "he had some quotes from the prodigal son parabole learned, and he just delivered so naturally. not a trace of shame because when he lied to his face like that. it was like watching a play. your dad bought everything."

from then on, beomgyu became an unsung hero in your eyes. the boy who had outmanipulated daddy into having it his way. the boy who had defeated god.

around halloween that year, beomgyu and his dad had a terminal fight. it ended on a threat so destructive that beomgyu thought it was for the better if he stayed away from his father's place for a couple days. maybe a week. soobin, knower of the impotence and humiliation of having to sleep under the roof of the one who lacerated you and torn you to pieces, offered him shelter.

daddy's eyes lit up with greed. he saw the definitive chance to welcome a prodigal son into the fold. for beomgyu it was almost a joke. he was amused at how fast daddy allowed him in. so clueless and hasty, like one of the girls he used to charm into his bed.

in truth, beomgyu wasn't even to blame when he inevitably bumped into you. it had been daddy's mistake, he had let him in himself. you thought maybe that made daddy more human, somehow. that he forgot to close the back door to the prison and the devil strolled in.

but it wasn't really a matter of having let his guard down. daddy was still as stern, still as disciplinary, still as paranoid as he had always been. choi beomgyu was just much smarter than daddy.

he was a demigod, he was a promise. he was soon to make you his.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ next part

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ please let me know if you think reading about booty sex is gross (i'm doing market research)

[ace-turned-confused]

planted in your garden | joel miller x f!reader

joel masterlist | read on ao3

summary: joel has always shown his love for you through flowers, and now it's your turn to do the same word count: 1k warnings: 18+ only, reader has tattoos & is shorter than joel, joel being soft & lovey-dovey & just the best in general, bit of spiciness at the end a/n: written for @morallyinept's Fauna & Flora Challenge ❤️ not beta’d or any of that jazz, please enjoy :)

If there’s one thing you know about Joel Miller, it’s that he will always find a reason to buy you flowers, no need for a special occasion. It’s been a long hard week and I wanted to get you something, saw these pretty flowers and thought of my pretty girl, got them just because I love you. Whether it’s an entire bouquet or just a few wild stems tied together by a ribbon, you’re sure he’s given you more flowers than you’ve received in your entire life.

It started on your birthday — you told him you hadn’t planned anything because you didn’t want a big fuss and it wasn’t a number worth celebrating, and he insisted on bringing you dinner so you wouldn’t have to spend the evening on your own. Every number is worth celebrating, it means you’ve been around another whole year. You were floored when he showed up on your doorstep, pizza boxes in one hand and a bunch of red and pink tulips in the other.

“Saw the ink on your arm there and just assumed they were your favourite. None of the stores ever have anything fresh or pretty enough, so I just cut these from my back garden.”

Joel Miller. Cut red and pink tulips for you. From his own garden.

You’d only known each other a few weeks at that stage, and he’d been more observant in that short time than any other man you’d met. At first, you didn’t read into it too much, he’s just doing something nice for you. You told yourself it didn’t matter that this ‘something nice’ was the single nicest thing anyone ever did for you.

You ate your takeout pizzas and talked for hours that night, record player on in the background, sharing stories of years gone by and remembering the person you each used to be. A few stray tears even slipped down your cheek at one point — Joel moved to sit close next to and almost on instinct you rested your head on his shoulder. It was oddly comforting knowing just how vulnerable you could be around him. He was a kind soul, a rather rare find in today’s world, and you found it surprisingly easy to open up to him.

You asked him for a hug that night and he wrapped his arms around you, holding you firmly against him, his chin resting on the top of your head and it was the safest you felt in years. Of course, and next time you don’t have to ask. You smiled into him, letting out a breath you didn’t realise you were holding. He eventually pulled back to check on you and planted a hand on your waist; he bid you goodnight with a wink, called you sweetheart and went home, leaving you standing like an idiot, mouth hanging open in a daze and still feeling the heat that had radiated off his palm and the grip of his fingers through your shirt on your skin.

‘Sweetheart’ played in your mind over and over for hours, days, weeks after that — soon enough you acknowledged that you weren’t immune to his charms and you’ve never looked back.

The flowers aren’t only for you to enjoy — you noticed early on that Joel takes great pride in his garden. The lawn always mowed, flower beds always with manicured edges, bees and butterflies in abundance. You’ve spent many hours lounging in the sun just admiring him, your book long abandoned — temples and greying curls damp with sweat, t-shirt clinging to his arms and back, gym shorts showing him off deliciously, all while he potters around tending to his garden, refilling a bird bath, touching up the fence and spewing out endless plant facts.

He even expanded the bed of tulips, planting bulbs of different varieties and an array of colours — ones with frilly edges, ones with pointed petals, and even blooms that look almost hand-painted in their beauty. He told you he’d been planning this for months, long before he met you, but you knew that part of him was doing this for you, too.

Late one night he finally told you the red and pink of your birthday flowers represented eternal love and affection, and sheepishly admitted he only remembered that once he’d already knocked on your door. He had hoped you wouldn’t ask him the meanings that night and figured there must’ve been someone looking out for him when you simply accepted them with a dazzling smile and that twinkle in your eyes. He wonders how things might have played out differently if you had asked him that night.

Now it’s Joel’s birthday and you want to do something special for him — so here you are, lying underneath him in a matching set, simple and white and covered in daisies. Propped up by his elbows, he traces over a flower right in the centre of your bra.

“You gonna tell me anything about them?”

“Daisies supposedly represent innocence and purity…” His voice fades off as he trails his fingers featherlight across you, goosebumps rising in his wake. With a faint smile pulling at his lips, he lifts his gaze to look you in the eye. “But something tells me you already knew that.”

He leans to kiss you, tongue licking into your mouth and you feel him pressed against your core, thick and heavy. You spread your legs wider to accommodate him and he grinds his hips into you, your fingers raking through his hair and tugging ever so slightly. He pulls back and starts snaking a hand down between you, now taken by the same applique daisies on your panties.

“Not sure those words apply right now, though,” he whispers to you, knuckles grazing the fabric.

“What, ‘innocence and purity’? You don’t think that’s true about daisies?”

“I ain’t talkin’ bout the daisies, sweetheart.” He smirks at you and you simply grin at him and huff a laugh in response as he shuffles down your body to pull your panties down your legs.

comments & reblogs are hugely appreciated, forehead kisses to all 💜

dividers by @saradika-graphics

[narnianflame]

“I think you’re pretty attractive yourself.” (Azriel x Reader)

Summary: You were at Rita’s with Mor and Nesta waiting for the Inner Circle to arrive, deeply in a drinking game that made you drink whenever somebody hot entered. Both aware of your not so small crush on the Shadowsinger.

A/N: This is my first One Shot but I really wanted to write this idea down. English isn't my first language just in case there is stuff that doesn't make sense at all, but enjoy!

You were currently sitting at your usual table at Rita’s with Mor and Nesta. Having arrived not long ago you were all fairly sober. “Let’s play a drinking game until the others arrive,” suggested Mor with a smirk. That piqued Nesta’s interest. “What kind of game are we talking about?” Mor’s smirk only grew. “We each have to take a sip of our drink whenever we see somebody entering Rita’s, but only when we think that somebody is hot,” Mor explained the rules swiftly. You nearly choked on your drink.

“I’m in,” Nesta immediately answered next to you. “I don’t know… anybody? What about the others entering, wouldn’t that be awkward?” You tried your best to think of a reason not to play. Fully knowing that reason being Azriel, and you being worried about your reaction once he would enter Rita’s.

“Oh, come on Y/N! We both know of your little crush. We wouldn’t be surprised seeing you take a shot when Azriel comes through the door.” Mor teased, the smirk on her face never seeming to disappear. You groaned, a faint red colour tinting your cheeks. Of course, they knew of your small or maybe not so small crush on the Shadowsinger. “Fine, let’s play,” you eventually bit out. This was going to be a long night. The three of you didn’t know when the rest of the Inner Circle would arrive, so your nervousness seemed to increase even more. The three of you looked over to the door. People were coming through the entrance, and you were already overwhelmed. How would you even have enough time to know who passed through and who of those people you would find attractive. Mor was the first one to take a sip of her drink, a beautiful brunette female walking through the door. Nesta and you looked over to Mor who just shrugged. “I can’t help it. I love woman.” All three of you returned your eyes to the entrance. The next person who entered was a blonde and pretty looking male. He wasn’t really your type, but you did find him attractive, so you took a small sip of your drink. The evening seemed to pass in a blur, and you could tell the type of people Nesta and Mor seemed to find attractive after all of you had downed two drinks.

You were starting to think that the other members of the Inner Circle weren’t going to show up at all and you got more relaxed. Mostly because you were more than a bit tipsy as well. But still your eyes stayed glued to the entrance. The next person to enter was a very pretty female with long golden-brown hair and blue-grey eyes. She seemed familiar but you had already taken a sip before realization dawned on you. Feyre entered Rita’s with such grace that you couldn’t help but admire her.

“Hey, that’s my sister.” Nesta elbowed you and Mor. “Can’t help it if she looks like that.” You admitted. “Exactly,” mumbled Mor in approval. The next person to pass through the door was Cassian. His hair was slicked back, and he wore a tight crimson red shirt that went well with his equally tight pants. We all agreed that he was very attractive and nice to look at, but you wouldn’t want to annoy Nesta, so your drink stayed on the table. “Oh, come on. I won’t bite off your heads if you take a sip. We can all agree that he’s hot.” Nesta smirked and when Cassian’s eyes found her at the table, his face broke in the biggest smile you had ever seen on the Generals’ face.

Feyre and Cass made their way to your table. The High Lady settling between you and Mor, while Cassian took the place next to his mate at the end of the table. “What are you guys up to?” Cass asked. “Waiting for you to finally grace us with your presence, but you took forever so we played a little game.” Mor pointed at the already empty glasses in front of you. “Well, you can stop now that we’re here, or can we join?” Feyre chimed in. “There are only two more people we're waiting for, but sure.” Mor pointed at her drink. “I won’t be drinking anymore anyways.” Feyre took Mor’s drink and sniffed to try and figure out what was in it, then her eyes slid to Nesta and you. “I think I know the rules.” She smiled smugly and let her eyes wander to the entrance.

“You can share my drink with me Cass, but I doubt you want to join the game.” Nesta’s eyes crinkled with amusement before she sent you a knowing look and returned her focus to the entrance as well. You sighed and continued looking for the last two people who had yet to arrive. The next seconds went by agonizingly slow and the glass in your hand started to get hot. To say you were nervous for Azriel to finally arrive was an understatement. Were you going to drink, or could you hold yourself back? If you didn’t Mor and Nesta would tease you immensely which would look suspicious. So, you settled on just taking a small sip. Nothing big. Nobody was going to notice.

At first you only saw a black tight shirt. That could be anybody. Your eyes continued traveling up until they landed on those hazel eyes that you loved so much. Then they slid to the wings behind. At last, your eyes went back to his face where they settled a second to long on his lips before going back up to those hazel eyes. Everything around you seemed to stop and absently you remembered to take a small sip of your drink. You felt a nudge to your side and glanced sideways to see Feyre’s lips curled into an amused smile.

Before anybody else could point out that you were the only one to drink when Azriel arrived, Rhys entered Rita’s with his usual High Lord aura. You could see Mor and Nesta roll her eyes while you were still to caught up in the Shadowsinger’s arrival. Feyre took a sip of now her drink and smirked knowingly. “Seems like I really figured out the rules of your little game.” Cassian just looked confused and muttered something to Nesta about not understanding anything at all. At least one person who would spare you from the suffering that was about to start as Azriel and Rhys reached your table.

Before either of them could sit down Mor already made room and offered to get more drinks. Almost jumping up you followed Mor to the bar. “That eager to get away from Az? I thought he’s hot.” She smiled innocently at you before giving the female behind the bar a wink and ordered the usual drinks for your friends. You glanced back to your table and immediately regretted it when you noticed Azriel looking at you. He smiled and inclined his head to say “Hello” which you returned before quickly, maybe too quickly, turning back around.

“Nu- uh,” your started, “I just didn’t want the teasing to start.” You shrugged and sent Mor a pointed look. “Innocent,” was all she stated before grabbing two of the drinks and making her way back to your friends. Sighing you took the other two, noticing them to be those of Azriel and Feyre. With a groan you followed Mor.

When you arrived at the round table the only available space was directly next to Azriel. Cursing your friends inwardly you gave one drink to Feyre and the other to your seat neighbour. You tried very hard not to look at him, while muttering a small “Here you go”. Of course, you failed and looked up and into his hazel eyes and then to his lips which smiled softly. “Thanks.” Awkwardly you tried to return the soft smile and turned your attention to the conversation that was flowing around you. Cass was talking about a brawl with Az this morning at their usual training session and how he handed him his ass. “Did not,” Azriel grumbled next to you which made everybody laugh even harder. Feyre was talking about expansion plans for her art studio and how she wanted to take on more students.

When you finally looked at the clock, you were shocked to find that a lot of time had actually passed since you arrived with Mor and Nesta. “Uh, guys I gotta go. I unfortunately have the early shift at the shop tomorrow.” You said as you got up. “Too bad. More finger food for me,” replied Nesta. “All yours, Nes.” You laughed and quickly said your goodbyes. You were almost at the entrance when you noticed a presence behind you.

“Wait, I’ll walk you home.” You hadn’t noticed Azriel getting up and following you, too busy with trying not to look at him for too long and making it home fast. “Um, you don’t have to do that,” you started but where quickly interrupted by him. “I insist.” He looked at you seriously and you knew arguing was pointless now. “Alright.” You made your way outside and took a deep breath of air after being stuffed in Rita’s for far too long. As you walked by the still bustling streets of Velaris neither of you felt the need to speak. Just enjoying the comfortable silence. Both of you seemed to enjoy those quiet moments.

“So, you think I’m attractive?” Azriel’s voice startled you out of your thoughts. “Huh?” you managed to get out, barely having fully registered what he had said. Slowly he pointed at you and then back at him. “You think I’m attractive.” He smirked. You felt heat rush to your cheeks and hoped your blush was barely noticeable in the dark of the night. “Doesn’t everybody? I mean you do know you’re good looking with your too tight shirts or training leathers and your huge wings that just make you even more mysterious which females also find hot and your dark hair that seems to always hang just above your eyes in the most perfect way. So uh, yes everybody does. Including me.” You just shrugged and tried to stop your rambling.

Azriel just looked at you and then started laughing. Really hard. You wanted to disappear through the floor. Why did you have to say all of that? You really needed to get this not too small crush in check. His laughter subsided and he smirked when he noticed the blush on your cheeks. Of course, he could see it. “They might but I don’t catch them playing games about who’s attractive and who isn’t. Don’t think my shadows don’t tell me what you are up to.” He chuckled softly as your face took on a look of even bigger embarrassment.

“Why would you do that?” you scolded the shadows that danced between the two of you. They seemed to find this whole situation amusing as well. You sent them a what you hoped was a withering look, but they just slithered up to your face and started caressing your cheeks in an attempt to make you forgive them.

Shaking your head you looked back at Azriel. “Wait, why are you checking up on me?” You raised an eyebrow at the Shadowsinger who stood right in front of you now. Slowly you could see his cheeks taking on a pinkish colour. “Az?” You tried again but were quickly interrupted by his lips on yours. Eyes wide in shock you froze on the spot before you remembered how kissing worked. Slowly you began moving your lips against his soft und plump ones. You sighed at the feeling. He tasted of whiskey which you normally hated but with him it was just a forgotten thought in the back of your head. Every rational thought left you and as Azriel began kissing you even harder there were no thoughts left at all in your head.

As you noticed the lack of air from you not breathing properly, he pulled back. “Just for the record, I think you’re pretty attractive yourself.” He smiled triumphantly at you. Shyly you pushed back a strand of hair that had fallen in front of your left eye because of the very sudden and very heated kiss you two had shared. “And I really like you.” He confessed. “Azriel, I really like you too.” You beamed up at him and your heart still hadn’t found it’s normal beating rate. He had that kind of effect on you.

“We should probably get you home now,” he chuckled and took your hand to pull you along in the direction of your home. “We should,” you agreed and stumbled slightly into him before finding your footing. The both of you spend the rest of the way in your comforting silence, both of you smiling softly to yourselves. Not long after, you arrived at the front door of your home.

“Thank you for walking me home.” You thanked Az softly and smiled up at him, trying not to get caught up in his beautiful eyes again. “Of course, princess.” He grinned. “You don’t happen to be free tomorrow evening? I might know a restaurant that serves your favourite noodles.” He was referring to the restaurant that you absolutely adored and where you found yourself at least once a week. “I’d love to.” “Great! It’s a date then,” he replied and planted a soft kiss on your lips. “Until tomorrow.” Before you could answer his shadows transported him away from you. Probably to Rita’s to see who drank too much and would need an escort home.

You smiled to yourself before opening the front door to your home. “See you tomorrow,” you whispered into the dark and you could’ve sworn you saw small tendrils of shadows dance happily in the corner of your entrance area.

[diejager]

can we have more of phoenix! reader? 🥺 i feel like they (as a baby bird) would build a nest on Price's belly cuz he's SUPER WARM and also he breathes out fire and that's perfect for the lil birby

Cw: reader being cheeky, teasing, biting/pecking, tell me if I missed any.

Having you on… ”leave” was hard when you were right there, clicking and chirping from your high perch on Price’s head, watching them being treated by another medic with your black eyes. They were reluctant - Ghost especially - to be touched and cared by someone else, hesitant to accept her tender hands and muted sighs at their stubbornness. It irked them even more when you chirped on and on, cackling at them after they grumbled, beating your wings and sending sparks from your newly-grown feathers around you, amber lights burning within seconds.

And the worst of all, was how willing you were to being handled by her, preening and pushing your chest out, your orange feathers puffing up in a show of dignity under her loving gaze. They - all but Price - glared on, witnesses to you nuzzling against your replacement’s cheek, your head bumping the curve of her lips when she placed a small kiss atop your curled mane. Perhaps it was jealousy that boiled in their stomachs, an anger at not being able to coddle you and being envious about such affection given to others rather than them. 

Fortunately, she returned you to Price’s waiting hands, craddling you in his warm palms, fingers curled carefully to keep you unharmed and away from his claws despite your cheeky bites at them, clawed feet wrapping around his thumbs while you bit him. Even in your small and vulnerable state, you were still so cheeky —a bastard, really, playing their hearts, knowing full well they would never stop you. They figured you’d stay as small as you were until the next day, where you’d keep growing and maturing until you reached your peak, a beauty to admire and bewilder at —or so Price said. 

Within the next week, the clock striking the start of a new one, you’d lost your curled and fluffy feathers, the protective layer to keep you warm, and had started growing long and silken ones, coloured a majestic scarlet and gold. You could fly rather than hop around, your little feet rarely taking you far, and you took full pleasure of landing wherever you wanted. Largely Price’s stomach, the rumbling fire within him keeping him alive - a burning core, his beating heart - worked well to replaced the nest you’d usually need, nestled over the fold of his abdomen and happily sighing.

Then your feathers grew out, longer and sturdier, the ends curled upwards, your crown of scarlet feathers making you look noble from your perch (the one Price took out of storage in your closet and placed in the rec room), head held high and lean body still and watchful. You were, exactly as Price had promised, a beauty to the eye, the noble phoenix cloaked in fire and royalty in the grey and gloomy base. A taste of vibrant life within these cold walls, enchanting with your chirpy songs, healing with your little tears and surprising strength. And yet, you were still the cheeky bastard you were as a chick, a cackle rippling through your throat when they fumbled around, trying to catch you after you stole things right out of their hands. 

Taglist: @craxy-person @crowbird @dead-cipher @iwannabealocalcryptid @iizx7y @mxtokko @capricorn-anon @perfectus-in-morte @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @angelcakes-22 @ramadiiiisme @ramblingsofachaoticthinker @im-making-an-effort @love-dove-noora @jinxxangel13 @daisychainsinknots @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @mul-pi @danielle143 @beau-min @makayla-666 @urfavsunkissedleo @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @luvecarson @petwifed @randominstake @heartelysia @jggykhug09090 @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @call-me-nyxx @sans-chara @cod-z @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @thigh-o-saur @evolutionarry @kaoyamamegami @cassiecasluciluce @sobbingnshtting

[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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[luveline]

Spencer coming home from a long case only to find reader has unexpectedly adopted a bunny? ("Look Spence!! This is Doctor Bunny Reid :)")

thank u for ur request ♡ gn!reader

Your apartment smells strangely like straw. 

Spencer creeps inside quietly. It's five AM, too early for him to feel good about waking you up, but he hasn't seen you in eight long days, so he had to come over. He's hoping he can dump his stuff and slide into bed beside you without waking you, content to be close to you, assured that you're alright. 

He shucks off his jacket and his bag of dirty clothes by the door and unlaces his shoes. Hand pressed to the wall, Spencer walks down the short hall, past your living room and kitchen, to your bedroom door. 

"No, Doctor!" you say in a hushed shout from behind the door. "You can't eat that, that's one of his favourites. Woah, that tickles." 

Honestly, the first thing Spencer thinks is that you've gotten so bored you've found yourself enacting odd role play. The second thing he thinks is that you've found someone to do it with, and he quickly backtracks the first thing. He doesn't like the sounds of it, but he can be into it if you're into it. Probably. 

"Y/N?" he asks, pulling down the handle and opening the door.

You're sitting on the floor by your bed in strange attire. His t-shirt (that, while he appreciates the sentiment, does not fit you even slightly) under an old soft sweater with a huge hole in the collar. Black sweatpants, one sock, and a pair of white bunny ears perched in your hair. 

"You're not supposed to be back until seven," you say, shocked.

"That was my seven, not your seven… Surprise?" 

"Spence, I'd totally run at you right now, but," —you point at your lap— "I'm occupied." 

Spencer is disappointed, doubly confused by what you're pointing at. The soft lump at your abdomen isn't your tummy after all, but a moving grey creature of the same colour. 

"A rabbit?" he asks, eyes widening as the bunny in question nuzzles your sweater for petting. 

"Doctor Bunny Reid," you say, avoiding Spencer's eyes, a sheepish tinge to your admission. "To be precise."

"Your sock?" he asks, moving down onto his knees adjacent to your own. 

"He took it. I don't know where it went." 

Spencer quirks a smile. "He's cute. I don't think I can compete, really." 

You put your hand on the bunny's back and lean forward. "You compete," you say, pouting gently, "you're adorable." 

His smile turns to pleased surprise as you kiss him. Twice in quick succession, before you arm curls behind his back for a loose hug over your new pet.

Spencer breathes in your smell. Or, attempts to. "The hay and ammonia is a lot." 

"I know. I'll figure it out, I promise… I missed you, Spence." 

"I can sort of tell." Spencer isn't sure he needs to be a profiler to realise that adopting a bunny and naming it after him while he was gone is the sort of thing only a very lonely person would do. "How's he so calm?" 

"He's, um, four years old, he's used to handling. I got him at the pound. His owner died last week." 

"You have all the stuff for him?" 

"Of course I do," you say, leaning back to meet his eyes. "I didn't mean to get him just 'cos I was lonely, I promise I actually read up on it before I decided. He's handsome, isn't he? You wanna feel how silky his ears are?" 

Spencer doesn't doubt you care, or that you're responsible, he's just surprised. You hadn't mentioned wanting a rabbit before. Petting the rabbits ears softly, he asks, "You know they live for eight to twelve years? Sometimes longer? The oldest rabbit ever documented was eighteen years old." 

You frown. "I know, Spence, it's a commitment. I should've asked you first, but I–" 

"No, I mean. It's not about that, I hope we get longer than eighteen years together. But are you sure Doctor Bunny Reid is the name you want to choose?" 

Your face floods with relief. "Well, his real name was Mr. Patterson. Which one do you like better?" 

The bunny has enough of your lap, hopping down onto the floor and bolting for what appears to be a big wooden house you've set up for him. There are black partitions for an enclosure leaned up against the wall. Spencer can guess exactly how he'll be spending the day, and it involves less cuddling than he thought. 

Spencer takes your empty lap as an opportunity to hug you again, a protective hand cupped behind your head. "Definitely Mr. Patterson," he says, resting his nose against your cheek. 

You laugh infectiously, leaning back under his weight.

"I missed you. I'm glad to be home," he murmurs. 

You hug him tighter. "I missed you, too." 

[beababoobies]

HAZBIN SIZE HEADCANONS

ft Adam, Vox, Husk, Luci, Sir Pent. NSFW.

🐍SIR PENT.🐍

~ GIRTHY. Jesus Christ. Like 4 inches around. 

~ Not too above average, only around 6.5 inches.

~ Yes, that means 8 inches around and 13 inches if you’re counting both of them. 

~ Dark Black and fades to red from the base to the tip. 

~ Because he’s cold-blooded, his cum & precum is super cold! Which was definitely a bit of a jumpscare the first time you two went at it. 

~ uncut. 

~  Clean shaven, not really shaven. Just bare.

🖥️VOX🖥️

~ You know what a headphone jack/phone connector looks like? Now imagine that but ten times bigger.

~ 7.5 inches, but more on the thinner side around 2.5 inches in girth.

~ Pointed tip to hit the best places for you.

~ Light blue rings, Light grey otherwise with a dark blue tip 

~ His cum is definitely glow-in-the-dark. Sorry not sorry. 

~ There’s no cut/uncut here.

~ Clean shaven, not really shaven. Just bare.

~ Can vibrate! 

💢LUCI💢

~ Well, we all know where his height went. 

~ 4 inches around, 8.5 inches long. yup.

~ Goes from pearly white to red at the tip.

~ His cum is most definitely golden, being a former angel and all. 

~ uncut. I don’t even think there was such a thing as cut/uncut when he was created.

~ does it even matter what his cock looks like? Because all he wants to do is be your personal chair. Sit on his face and he’ll happily cum in his pants. 

~ A pretty white bed of a pubes at the very base. 

🕊️ADAM🕊️

~ Uncut. Don’t think this has to be said.

~ As he is formerly human, colouration just matches his skin tone, pale and slightly pink at the top.

~ Thick as fuck, like 5 inches around, more average in size, around 6 inches. 

~ His cum is golden, being a supreme angel and all.

~ Pubes that match his hair colour shaven into a small ring around the base because he can’t flex enough that he’s an Angel.

~ Can cum a bit of an absurd amount. He’s where we all came from anyways, apparently. 

~ Has a golden Jacob’s Ladder piercing from base to tip. 

🍻HUSK🍻

~ Again with the girth. He’s around 3.5 inches in girth, but also 7 inches long. 

~ Pubes? Nah, that’s just his fur. He’s not shaving that shit.

~ Muted pink all the way down but slightly redder at his tip. 

~ Definitely got a silver Ampallang piercing at the tip on a drunken dare. Doesn’t regret it. 

~ Circumsized. Got Circumsized in life and carries it with him for eternity in hell. 

~ Besides his cock, his wings are extra sensitive. Will he admit it to anyone? No, then they could use it against him. But they’re extra sensitive, and he loves having them pruned by his lover.

(I’m not doing Alastor because he’s AroAce, so please don’t ask for that, and I just… ain’t doin Val. Thanks!)