#sorry for the low energy today folks

[lokisgoodgirl]

Be Mine [Loki x Reader]

A Link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: A morning meeting has an unexpected twist. Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Language. Smutty. Avenger!Loki x Female Reader. Questionable flirting techniques. (w/c 2.8k)

The muscle at the side of Loki’s jaw flexed. He swallowed; an achingly glacial bob of his Adam’s apple making you want to claw your eyes out.

For some inexplicable reason he had opted to wear full leathers to today’s briefing.

It was seven nineteen in the AM. Thor was sporting a muscle vest boasting not one but three stains of varying complexity and a pair of shorts which left little to the imagination. Scott was wearing his dressing gown.

The rest of the team hung off chairs and flopped on the table in various states of undress. Steve stood at the head of the room as usual; prim and fresh in a crisp button-down and perfectly creased chinos.

“So what we’re seeing here,” Steve said, turning to the group from the Powerpoint, “is an up-tick in biological experiments-”

His eyes narrowed while they roamed over the doodling, distracted and hungover band sprawled around the table. “Lang.” he snapped. “Close your legs; there are ladies present.’

Scott shuffled up his seat, drawing the dressing gown down over his knees while mumbling apologies. A low rumble of mirth circled the room, but Loki’s gaze never left the Captain’s.

The curve of his dark lashes swept upward, features set in performative rapture. Loki's facial expression hadn’t changed as the scene unfolded, but for a miniscule twitch of his lip. Usually the two of you would exchange a few eye rolls; a few knowing smiles during a particularly turgid monologue about shoe storage post-mission...but not today. Today he hadn't even looked at you.

Steve sighed. He extended a finger and pushed his retractable pointer down to a stub. Pacing to the table, he dropped his head, laying his palms flat. When he looked up, disappointed-dad energy was thick in his eyes. “Folks, this just won’t do.” he said.

Natasha’s sunglasses slid down her nose. Scott crossed his legs making the swivel chair knock into Wilson and waking him up. The Falcon’s arms flew wide on instinct, whacking Tony in the chest. “Jesus Christmas-” Tony snorted, blinking wildly. “It was a party.” Natasha drawled, pushing the sunglasses back in place with disdain. “Maybe if you’d stayed after the cake you’d have those tight panties of yours in less of a spick, Rogers.”

“That’s Captain Rogers.” he snapped. “We’re on the clock.” “Calm down, Rogers.” Tony said, cresting his fingers. He was remarkably chipper for a man with whipped cream crusted in his hairline. “You’re all sitting on my clock. Remember that.”

Steve flushed scarlet. His eyes narrowed as Tony’s smirk grew.

“All I’m saying is it’s a sorry day when Laufeyson is the star pupil. Look at him!” Steve said, gesturing incredulously at Loki who remained in position; back straight, chin up. But now, one eyebrow arched. “All of you lot in your skivvies and Laufeyson’s in full dress?” Steve shook his head. “I fail to see the humour, Rogers.” Loki said. “Why is it so surprising that I come to our daily summons dressed thus? Certainly I have never presented myself in a tragic towelling monstrosity like Lang here.” “There was that one time with the silk nightie.” Sam whispered to Scott. Scott covered his mouth.

“A silk robe.” Loki snapped.

“Usually you only bring out the Asgardian shit when you’re brown-nosing. Or when you’ve done something shifty.” Natasha said, propping her chin up with a fist. You bet her eyes are closed. Wanda nodded behind her Starbucks.

“Or trying to impress someone,” the witch said. Natasha waved a finger in agreement. “Sexually.” Wanda added.

Loki released a scandalised snort. “How dare you.” he said. Leather creaked against his biceps as he folded his arms.

Beneath the table, your thighs squeezed together. The only thing hotter than Loki in leather, was an indignant Loki in leather. You suddenly became very aware of your quickened breaths making the buttons of your blouse strain. The god’s eyes darted to the side, meeting yours. “What?” he snarled. “Nothing.” you squeaked, swallowing. An awkward silence hung in the room. The scent of stale vodka suddenly seemed very strong. Steve sighed.

“Let’s call it for this morning-” he said, immediately met with muted hisses of celebration around the table. He patted down the air. “Rescheduled for this afternoon. Thirteen-hundred sharp. Wear clothes.” Approval turned to whines and hushed curses as chairs were swivelled and aching bodies shifted. “Unbelievable.” Loki snarled under his breath.

You watched out the corner of your eye as he stood; the flat of his iron stomach inches from your face. The scent of rich leather filled your nostrils while Loki’s fingers nipped beneath the hem of his tunic, tugging it down. He flipped the length of his cape with a sniff. You saw it swirl around his boots briefly as he stepped towards the window, clasping his hands behind his back.

Taking your time, you picked up each piece of carefully laid stationary at your seat. One by one, the rest of the team left the room. Steve was last, his hand hovering on the door handle while he shot you a wary look. As a parting gift, he opened the door wider. “You didn’t stay late?” Loki’s voice was a thick hum in the growing silence. His tone, inscrutable. “Huh?” “At the party.” he said. “You didn’t stay late.”

This time it wasn’t a question. “I usually head off when Thor starts making passes at everyone. I didn’t see you. Were you there?” “He did that?” Loki bristled. “To you?” There was a pause. “To everyone.” you repeated quietly. Loki’s shoulders stiffened. His fingers twitched, thumb digging into one exposed palm behind his back. He was still staring out the window.

“I’ll see you later.” you said, nerves fluttering in your belly. The god’s hair shortened as his chin dipped. You wondered how it would feel to wind those dark strands through your fingers as you rode him. Wondered how the grunts and signs and pretty curses from his lips would sound wet in your ear.

“No.” Loki said. “Excuse me?” “No,” he repeated.

You steadied against the table-top with the pads of your fingertips. Small stars began to burst in your field of vision. “I think the leather looks goo-good,” you stammered. And you didn’t know why.

The thought of him barring the exit of enemies in far flung realms using only that voice barged through the doors of your imagination with the force of a horny caveman. If that was the last sarcastic quip they heard, by god, you imagined they may just have died happy. And hard.

“It looks good.” you repeated, no more than a whisper. Loki turned his head. The sharp profile came into view at a glacial pace. First the peaked tip of his chin, then the slant of his regal nose, then the harsh peak of his cheekbone, then his eyes. Your ass met the table-top with a stumble. There was a small crease between his eyebrows. “Bold of you to make another jest without your compatriots around you, Agent.” he said. Across the short distance between you, venom dripped from his tongue; his hackles raised. “I wasn’t joking,” you said quietly as his gaze fell to your feet with a sneer. The quick breaths that made your buttons strain were back. Loki’s rising stare lingered on your breasts, a small smile tweaking at the corner of his mouth. Words tripped from your lips, forcing their way from behind your teeth. “I like it.”

Loki’s eyes narrowed. He turned fully with a ceremonial flourish, the hands clasped behind his back moving to the front and rippling his leather and silken cloak. It fluttered.

“Is that so?” he purred darkly. He didn’t believe you.

You imagined how this is how a rabbit felt in the eyeline of a fox. To look away was to admit weakness, vulnerability. It meant death. And yet – it was the only chance to escape. But did you want to escape? Not really. You wanted to feel the sharp of his teeth fasten to your neck as he sucked and bit and made violent love to every inch of you.

You nodded, not breaking eye-contact. Loki inhaled sharply, chin tilting up as he did so.

His eyes wandered over grim foam tiles as though an enemy lurked beyond the suspended ceiling. They narrowed, darting back and forth. With a thundering heart, you noted one of his heavy boots rise from the floor. He paced forwards slowly, ceremonially, stopping inches from you. Your fingers curled tight around the table’s edge, the messy in your panties beneath the skirt becoming intolerable. Loki cleared his throat. “Am I to understand, contrary to common rhetoric, that you find my Asgardian leathers enticing; Agent?” “I think ‘enticing’ is a little grandiose, is it not?” you laughed, cringing at the way you so easily mirrored his speech. Loki noticed it too. He tilted his head. “I am nothing if not grandiose, Agent.” Loki said. “Am I not impressive? Am I not imposing?”

He trailed a long finger down your bicep, his touch light as a feather. “So often, you mortals use such words as insult.” he mused.

“It is merely a reflection on your own feelings of inferiority. This morning is a perfect example. An attempt at ridicule to deflect from their own pathetic presentation. Each one more bedraggled and an abject embarrassment to their purpose than the last.” Heat began to rise in your cheeks as his finger drifted along your collarbone. There was a pause, his eyes dropping to your lips before the finger brushed the skin at the hollow of your neck. It graced upwards, tracing the curve and stopping beneath the tip of your chin. “But not you.” he said.

The god’s eyes snapped to yours. His cheekbones hollowed under fluorescent lights, mischief glowing from the depths of his irises and painted in every light wrinkle on his brow.

“What else do you like, Agent?” he goaded softly. “Do you like the idea of what lies beneath these leathers?” You swallowed thickly. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Loki-” you said, glancing towards the open door. He followed your eyes, rolling his own. With a flick of his hand the door slammed shut. “I want you,” he breathed, leaning closer so that the heat of his cheek warmed your own, “to tell me what else you like.”

You bit your lip, watching his beautiful face come back into view. With a prang, the thought occurred that perhaps you were not the rabbit after all. Perhaps you were the fox. Loki’s gaze lingered on your face, searching it.

Emboldened, you found the words. “Why should I?”

His brows peaked softly. He released a muted sigh, pursing his lips. “As much as I am loathe to admit it, Romanoff was right.” he said. The hand tilting your chin upwards returned to its mate, clasped against the leather tunic. “I was trying to impress someone, but not that insufferable Rogers.”

He raised his eyebrows.

Excitement blossomed deep in your belly; rising like shaken soda and fizzing around your chest. Loki bit his bottom lip.

“You see, Agent, I like you very much. And I’m afraid that now it has reached the juncture where I must know if you like anything about me...beyond my exquisite taste in battle armour.”

The change in his demeanour was so dramatic that you could only gape. But when it came to Loki, could you expect anything less? Without thinking you reached forward and grasped the belt slung over his chest, pulling him forward.

Loki’s mouth clashed with yours, the heat of his lips giving way to the thrust of his tongue. Your hands slid over his metal epaulettes, tangling in ebony waves that cascaded around his shoulders. He tasted like heaven, the scent of him deep and dangerously delicious in a way you’d never known. A scent a girl could lose herself in forever; gladly.

In seconds your back was flat against the table, its cool wood harsh against the heat of your skin through the blouse. Loki’s ravenous kiss consumed you, licking and dancing inside your mouth like a man possessed. His shallow moans ricocheted between slurps of his lips, wetness coating them.

“Tell me, you infuriating woman,” he panted as a thick forearm landed on the wood beside your head. The metal vambrace clanged against cheap wood. Saliva hung between your mouths as he stared deep into your soul; blue eyes darkening. “Tell me what you like.”

“About you?” you panted. Loki didn’t nod, only lowered his chin.

His nose nudged at your lips, dragging upwards, tongue tracing around the bottom one. He had begun to smile. One of his legs nudged your thighs wider. The god straightened and you felt a thrill run from your scalp to the tips of your dangling toes. He towered above like a monolith, leather tight to his rectangular body. Hair fell around his jaw, perfectly imperfectly wolfish curls flirting against his skin. His cape brushed against your bare calves as he shifted his stance, palms sliding up your thighs and pushing your skirt higher. “Yes; I like the idea of what’s beneath all this,” you whined as you pawed at his leather-clad stomach. It was so hard. Loki smirked, watching beneath half-lidded eyes. “I think about fucking you in the showers after training,” you whispered bashfully as your hips thrust up against your will. Loki raised an eyebrow. “More...” he rumbled. “I think about you all the time. All the awful things I want to do to you, y-you do to me- Loki, uhh-”

His hands crept higher as you spoke, fingers hooking around the hips of your panties. “If I pull these down, darling” he said with an air of reprimand, “will they be wet?” You let out a gasping moan, back arching against the table.

“Excellent.” Loki snickered, pulling the panties down the length of your legs before stepping back between them.

A hand flew to your mouth as you watched one long finger dip between your thighs, running lightly between your folds. He brought it to his lips, sucking gently. His cheekbones hollowed, finger slipping out. He swallowed with a groan of appreciation.

Loki settled himself between your legs, pushing them wider. The height of the table pressed your dripping centre against his crotch. You thought you might explode. His palms slid up your waist, exploring the curves of your body while your legs wrapped around his hips. The god’s cock pressed eagerly against the leather, strong and thick up the centre. His forearms came down at either side of your head, metal wrist-guards clinking.

“I will show you what it is to be mine,” he murmured in your ear.

Loki’s cock settled against your sex, rubbing in perfect gyration. “Oh...god,” you gasped as the weight of his body pressed against your own.

Fingers combed up from the base of his neck, tangling in his hair. The next moment, they grasped around his back, pulling him closer, catching in the folds of his cloak which draped across your bodies. The god grunted filthy praises in your ear as his bound manhood sent electric currents of pleasure deeper than you’d ever known. His searching lips found their way to your neck, your jaw. Every utterance from his throat more disgustingly sensual than the last. Hot leather filled your nostrils, the scent of him strong and intoxicating. Mounting orgasm bubbled in waves, a dream-like trance broken only with whispered groans of pleasure from your throats. Loki Laufeyson was about to make you cum. The thought was unbelievable. And yet, your pussy being tugged and massaged and owned by his leather-bound cock into the throes of heaven knew it to be true. Dry-humped like a teenager in the back of a pick-up.

“Be mine...” Loki mumbled breathlessly, a strangled choke gasping from deep in his chest. He immediately dove for a perishing kiss, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth and releasing it with a wet suck. He smouldered down.

Against the bright lights, his dark halo shone; tendrils curling against your cheek and brushing with every calculated roll of his hips. Every muscle in your body tensed. Your legs tightened against his hips.

“Be mine,” he echoed. His face was twisted, and you suddenly wondered how close he was to cumming in those beautiful leather pants. “Loki-” you gasped, clutching at his cape. Back arching, the last thing you heard as climax stormed your brain were the matching pants of the god. The last thing you saw were his peaked brows above dilated pupils so deep you could drown in them.

In the afterglow, all you could manage were garbled phrases as your forearm draped over your eyes. “That was...unexpected.” you panted when the god’s weight lifted from your chest. “Perhaps for you.” Loki winked. “It was very carefully calculated on my part,” You watched in dazed disbelief as Loki sank to his knees, leather creaking, and hoisted your hips higher. He lapped at your soaking pussy, muffled moans seeping from his throat as he buried himself in your fresh pleasure. The flat of his tongue licked a thick stripe from the base to your swollen clit, placing a gentle suck on the tip. His eyes flickered up, meeting yours.

“Immaculate, as expected.” he breathed. His chin glistened.

You groaned as he withdrew; grasping at the air as he went. That small caress of him against your sex was everything you could ever have dreamed. Loki let you reluctantly arrange yourself before offering his hand for the short hop off the table. “Not exactly how I imagined our first time,” you said with a sheepish smile. Loki scanned your face.

“Agent don’t be insulting. That was merely a sample,” he scoffed. “It barely counts.” He stepped forward, pulling you flush against him with a flat palm at the base of your spine. “We must ensure you have eaten something before more intimate activities are indulged in; lest you faint. Or worse.” “Or worse?” “You are only mortal, after all.” Loki smiled slyly. “And this,” he gestured to his cock; hard and straining against the leather, “can be rather a handful. As well can his Master.” You slapped him on the shoulder. Loki smirked. Remembering the unexpected schedule change, you frowned. “You think we have time before the meeting later?”

Loki snorted. “We’re not attending. The two of us fulfilled our obligations, unlike the more cretinous members of our party.” You raised an eyebrow. “You’re going to get me in trouble, I can tell.” Loki’s fingers danced up your back, a light thrust of his hips making your body keen. His dirty exhale flooded your ear, the warm scent of him overloading your senses.

“Oh Agent,” he purred against the skin; his eyes darting covertly to the pair of panties discarded on the floor. “As if you expected anything less.”

Taglist (continued in comments)

@lokischambermaid @meowmeow-motherfucker @gigglingtiggerv2 @imalovernotahater @avengersalways @littledark11 @lokikissesmyforehead @simplyholl @fictive-sl0th @thedistractedagglomeration @loopsisloops @glitchquake @holdmytesseract @jaidenhawke @silverfire475 @fandxmslxt69 @morriggannlostinfandoms @marygoddessofmischief @sebstanwhore @xorpsbane @peacefulpianist @yelkmelk @wheredafandomat @mistress-ofmagic @acidcasualties @ozymdias @your-taste-on-my-lips @lokidokieokie @kikster606 @peachyjinx @tbhiddlestan83 @trickster-maiden @skymoonandstardust @justjoanne242 @thenotoriouserg @ladyofthestayingpower @wolfmoonmusic @brittbax @smolvenger @liminalpebble @joyful-enchantress @kaleenjackson @fictional-hooman @kellatron55 @icytrickster17 @multifandom-worlds @buttercupcookies-blog

[filmtv2022]

By Your Side: Epilogue Part Two

Previous Chapter

Masterlist

Summary: Rhett & Y/N navigate the next steps of their relationship, and for the first time they are truly able to envision what life away from the horrors of the past could look like.

Warnings: Smut + some language + minimal description of wounds

A/N: Well... this is it for the story folks (at least for now... who knows what will happen if/when we get a second season), and what a ride it's been! I truly cannot believe how wonderful this process has felt. When I started this story I had no idea what this would end up meaning to me. I have learned so much about myself as a writer and creative during this journey, and that is amazing. But beyond that, I have had the opportunity to get to know some wonderful humans on this platform as well! A massive thanks to all who have enjoyed (and hopefully will continue to enjoy) this story.

---------------------

Rhett’s breath hitched as the sweet, flirtiness of the moment turned into something more. Trailing his hands down your body, he guided you back against the counter, the movement was a tad rougher than intended causing you to bump harshly on the hard surface. The sudden force bit into the healing wound that adorned your back, sending a burst of pain shooting over the expanse of your muscles and stealing the breath from your lungs. Hearing your agonized gasp, Rhett immediately loosened his hold on you, allowing him to scan over your frame. 

“Y/N, what’s wrong? What hurts?”

Unable to speak, you breathed in through your nose. Your hand snaking behind your back to put consistent and even pressure on the tender spot. Understanding struck as he watched you seek relief from the pain.

“Shit, I’m sorry baby.” 

Replacing your hand with his, Rhett waited with you in silence until the pain subsided enough for you to stand without his support. Hiding your face in his chest, you allowed the feeling of him to surround you and the warmth of his touch to comfort you in every possible way. Holding the back of your head, Rhett buried his nose in your hair, the scent of your perfume mixed with his cologne lingered on your hair. 

The bullet that had torn through your abdomen had exited low leaving behind a knarled scar on your back, the spot still tender to the touch on the best of days and agonizing on the worst. As the shakiness of your limbs was replaced by fatigue, the strain of recovering from the intensity of the discomfort stole precious energy from your reserves. But even in your own struggle, the tension in Rhett’s body was unmistakable. You knew without a doubt that he would blame himself for what had just happened. He blamed himself for far more than that when it came to you. Seeing him so guilt-ridden and broken tore at your heart because no matter how many times you’d tried to convince him of the truth, he still couldn’t or wouldn’t believe you.

Not having the energy to break away, but hoping to take the sting off of what had transpired, you turned your head to the side. Resting your cheek on him, you spoke, “So, what’s the plan mister ‘I can’t wait another day’ ?” 

Despite your best efforts the winded rasp of your words gave away the distress you were in, the ache now radiating all over your back.

“Y/N, be serious. Not now, not after… why don’t we just take it easy for today? I can draw you up a bath before I head into town and get your refills.” 

There was a distant look in his eyes as he spoke. Rhett’s focus appeared to be on you, but in reality, his mind was far away, detached, lost to the dark depths of his thoughts. 

“I’m okay, I promise.”  

“You’re not though.”

“I am, an' why won’t you believe me?” Sadness bled into frustration as you questioned him.

Looking up, you took notice of the way his neck muscles tensed with the burden of holding back the words he so desperately wanted to speak. The wrinkles at the corners of his eyes deepened as his lips pursed with trepidation. 

“Talk to me, Rhett. You can’t keep shutting me out like this. I mean... what happened to what you were saying earlier? About us… about getting married?” 

“What happened?” Anger, not toward you, but toward himself boiled over, “What happened is I failed to keep you safe, Y/N. Fuck. I can’t even keep from you hurting you inside the goddamn house. An’ I... I....”.

Rhett’s hands shook as he fought to control himself. Leaning back on the counter, the color bled from his knuckles as he gripped the countertop. The excruciating barbs of remorse and shame caught the words in his throat like a trap. Unable to look at you, he stared off into the living room.

Giving yourself a second to think, you stepped in front of him, taking in the wounded look in his eyes as the tears he hoped to contain welled to a tipping point. Reaching out with both of your arms, you felt the sharp stab of pain in your bad shoulder as you settled your hands on Rhett’s face. Brushing your thumbs over his cheekbones, your fingertips caught his tears as they began to fall. Turning his head, he pressed a kiss to your palm. His hands came up to settle on your wrists, holding you to him as he closed his eyes, a deep sigh rattled from his chest as he tried to let go of the anger. 

“Rhett, I’m alive because of you…” 

He recoiled at your words as if the sound of them burned him, but that didn’t stop you from continuing on. 

“I know you don’t agree with me yet when I say that, but that doesn’t mean it’s not true. And I’ll keep on saying it for as long as it takes you to believe me. I love you.” 

“I love you too… more than you could ever know.” 

Pressing up on the balls of your feet, you captured Rhett’s lips with your own. The kiss was gentle and easy, but it was enough to pull him back from the edge. Settling back down, you looked up at him, the corners of his eyes softening a touch as he enjoyed the lingering feeling of your lips. 

“Now, I meant it when I said I was sorry to have kept you waiting… please don’t be cruel and do the same to me.” 

Biting the inside of your lip you smiled coyly at Rhett who finally broke into a wide grin. The tiniest hint of the old him peaked through as he leaned into you, kissing you slowly. The heat of his breath was riveting as it drifted over your skin with his words, “I could never do that to you.”

“I didn’t think so. Now, the County Clerk’s office opens at nine, it’s only seven now. That should give us enough time to get ready. After that, we’ll head over to the courthouse. And last, but not least… a nice dinner and a hotel in the city, yeah?” 

“Whatever you say darlin’.” 

Your smile grew as you held the back of Rhett’s neck, your fingers brushed over the exposed skin before dragging along the messy curls. Pushing your weight away from him, Rhett propelled himself off the counter and followed behind you toward the stairs. Moving in your wake, he watched in awe at your strength and just how far you’d come over the past few months. There had been a time not all that long ago when walking more than a few steps without assistance would have left you unable to function without serious physical support. And now, here you were, able to traverse the stairs of the Abbott home on your own. That sight alone filled a small part of the hole in Rhett’s heart with hope that maybe, just maybe, a new normal was possible. 

Reaching the landing at the top of the stairs, you continued on toward the bedroom. Flipping on the main light, you made your way to the closet and pulled on the dangling cord to illuminate the smaller space. The zing of hangers running over the metal bar filled the quiet as you searched for something to wear. Your selection was fairly limited as sweatpants and baggy t-shirts had practically become your uniform since coming home from the hospital. Running your fingers over the last few items you had, you came to a sudden halt. Grabbing onto the hanger, you removed it from the bar, giving the item a once over. It was the dress you’d worn when Rhett had taken you out on a real date before the incident. The tiny daisy pattern was just as delicate and sweet as you remembered. Turning around you found him pulling on a pair of fresh jeans, the rusty burnt orange shirt he’d thrown on hung open exposing the t-shirt underneath. 

“Could use a little help here.” Moving toward the bed you watched as he assessed the situation.

Snapping to attention, Rhett’s concern washed over his features for just a moment until he realized what you were holding. Pausing for only a second, he took a few strong strides in your direction. Seeing him move, you placed the dress down on the bed. His momentum slowed so that he could give you a once over, his eyes casting over every inch of you.

Dipping his hands under the hem of your oversized sleep shirt, he found the waistband of your sweats. Hooking fingers inside, he pushed them gently over your hips until they fell to the floor. He knelt on the ground to help you lift your feet and step out of the pants. Nudging them to the side with your toes, you could feel the warmth radiating from Rhett as his hands stayed on your body. Seeking more of you, Rhett lost himself in the softness of your skin under his touch. Dragging his mouth along the outside of your thigh, his hands drift up to your sides as he moved to stand. The feeling of his callous rough hands sent shivers down your spine. With delicate pressure, he guided your bad arm out of the sleeve before doing the same to your good side. Lifting the shift over your head, he let it join your sweats.  

Standing like this in front of Rhett, you felt exposed in a way you’d never experienced, the utter adoration in his eyes as he got lost in the sight of you sent a flush of heat searing over your skin. Your breath caught in your throat as his fingertips feathered over the scars that now adorned your front. Leaning in, Rhett kissed along your jaw and down the column of your neck. The bridge of his nose ran along the top of your collarbone to your shoulder. Taking in a deep inhale, he picked up the dress from the mattress and removed the hanger. Dropping the plastic back on the bed he met your eyes briefly before sliding the garment down over your head. With great care, he eased your arms through the thin straps, dipping down to kiss the scars on your shoulders once more before placing the thin piece of fabric into the place where your bra would have sat if you'd been wearing one. Straightening up, his hand smoothed over your thigh allowing the slit to fall to the side. 

“Perfect. So beautiful.” 

“I love you, Rhett.” 

“I love you too, Y/N.”

Tipping your head up, you searched for a kiss, which Rhett readily gave. With a small step back you fell into your routine. Button by button, you did up his shirt. Running your hands over his front to press down some of the small wrinkles, you looked down to find that he’d yet to put on his belt.

“Looks like your missing somethin’.”

You teased him with the drag of your over the front of his jeans. If you’d been looking you would have noticed the way his eyes flashed dark with desire. The moment was fleeting as he swallowed hard and composed himself quickly. Opening the drawer he kept his buckles in you scanned over the options in search of one that had always been a favorite of yours, the one he’d been wearing the night of the rodeo finals. It was hidden at the end of the row, tucked under another. Neatly, you plucked it from its spot. Picking up his hat too, you returned to Rhett who was still standing across the room following your every step with his eyes. 

Stopping in front of him, you placed the hat on the bed for a minute to free up your hands. Slowly and methodically, you threaded his belt through the loops of his jeans and fastened the buckle as gracefully as you could. Giving it a tug, you purposefully yanked him off balance, forcing him to hold onto you to steady himself. A low chuckle rumbled from him as he stooped to steal a kiss from you. Rhett felt you twist to grab his hat and place it on his head. 

“There, that’s better.” Lifting your right arm you tipped the brim of his hat up so that you could look into the depths of his stunningly blue eyes, “You ready?” 

“More than you know.” 

…………………….

Heading to the bathroom to brush your teeth and throw on just a touch of makeup, you encouraged Rhett to head downstairs and start the truck while you finished up. Giving in to your request, he dropped his wet toothbrush back into the cup and headed outside.

Back to the bedroom, you found your shoes. Sitting on the edge of the bed you slipped on your flats before reaching over to open the nightstand. Feeling blindly inside, you felt the soft velvety fabric of what you were looking for. Closing your hand around the small bag, you retrieved it from the dark of the drawer. Taking your finger you traced a small circle over the outside so that you could feel the outline of what was inside. The creak of the front door opening and Rhett's voice calling up the stairs got you to your feet. Your heart beat rapidly with the anxious excitement of what was to come.

…………………

The trip to the county clerk’s office mercifully hadn’t taken long as the lobby had been mostly empty at that early hour. With a fresh marriage license in hand, you and Rhett made your way to the courthouse. Murky warmth from the overhead lights flooded the waiting area, your hand gripped his knee to calm the nervous bounce and to ground yourself. The distant sound of phones ringing in other parts of the building seeped into the room, the walls providing a nearly non-existent barrier between the inner workings of the courthouse and those awaiting their appointments in the lobby. Only a few other people filled the seats that lined the room, each one too preoccupied with their own problems to notice the way the two of you clung to one another. Your free hand traveled inside the pocket of your jacket, seeking out the soft touch of the pouch within.

Across the room, the groaning creak of a door opening pulled your eyes from Rhett. 

“Rhett & Y/N?” 

“That’s us.” 

Standing first, Rhett took your hand to help you stand. Placing a hand in the middle of your back, he walked as slowly as you needed toward the woman who was waiting just inside the open door. 

“So, everything appears to be in order. The only thing we didn’t see on your paperwork was someone listed to be your witness. Do you have a person who can fulfill that role?”

“No, we don’t.” His voice was low, and a touch of sadness coated each word. 

“Not a problem, we will provide one for you.” 

Leading the two of you down a long hallway, the three of you finally took a sharp right into a brightly lit room. Sunlight flooded into the space through the wall of windows on the opposite side. Waiting inside was another kindly-looking woman, her age was apparent in the way the lines of her face accented her features when she smiled. After brief introductions, the younger employee left to go retrieve the individual who was meant to be the witness for the ceremony. 

“Now, I assume we’ll be exchanging rings of some sort today. Do you mind setting them here for me?” she gestured to the podium in front of her. 

“Of course.” You slid the ring off of your finger and placed it where she’d pointed before reaching into your jacket. Delicately you took out the jewelry pouch, opening the top, you tipped it on its end and let the object inside fall into your palm. Rhett was taken aback by what he was seeing. Tossing your jacket onto one of the chairs, his voice caught your attention.

“Is that?” He was nearly breathless with surprise.

“Yeah, it is.” 

Shaking his head in awe, Rhett's smile halted as he heard the sound of heels on the tile reverberating down the hall. 

“All right, looks like we’ve got everyone here. Are you two ready?” The officiant beamed as she waited for an answer. 

“Absolutely.” You answered for yourself and Rhett who still seemed to be processing the ring sitting on the podium. 

“Wonderful. Let’s begin. If you two can face each other that would be great. Feel free to hold hands if you’d like.” 

Turning to look at Rhett you reached for him instantly. His touch was steadying as the anticipation continued to build. 

“We’re here today to witness the union of Rhett and Y/N in marriage. Today, you begin a new life together, founded on love, honesty, respect, and friendship. The promises you make to each other today should not be taken lightly. A marriage is more than a ceremony – it is a lasting and lifelong commitment. The future promises many happy days ahead, filled with unique opportunities, adventures, and challenges. It is through trust, love, and the unfailing support of each other that you will meet these inevitable ups and downs.”  

Pausing to look at both of you, she couldn’t help, but notice the radiating happiness that poured off of you both. While conducting these ceremonies was a common occurrence, it wasn’t every day that she had the honor of seeing two people so deeply in love standing in front of her. 

“By means of this ceremony, Rhett and Y/N will become united in a special new way. To this moment they bring the fullness of their hearts to share with one another; they bring the dreams which bind them together in spirit; they bring their individuality, which will be preserved, but out of which will emerge their life together.” 

Clearing her throat she continued, “Rhett, will you have this woman to be your wife; to live together with her in the covenant of marriage? Will you love her, comfort her, honor and keep her, in sickness and in health, and, forsaking all others, be faithful to her as long as you both shall live?”

“I will.” you squeezed Rhett’s hand lightly as he spoke. His voice shook just a little as he responded, the truth of those words, ‘In sickness and in health’ hit far too close to home

“Y/N, will you have this man to be your husband; to live together with him in the covenant of marriage? Will you love him, comfort him, honor and keep him, in sickness and in health, and, forsaking all others, be faithful to him as long as you both shall live?”

“I will.” Rhett reciprocated the squeeze you'd given him as a sign of his support.

“Next, we proceed to the exchanging of the rings. Rhett, please take Y/N’s ring.” 

Letting go of your hand, Rhett’s shaky fingers closed around your ring.

“The wedding ring represents the promises and potential of marriage. It has no beginning and no end and is a timeless symbol of the love and commitment you have pledged. As you wear your ring, let it remind you of the love you feel here today. Rhett, please repeat after me.” 

Phrase by phrase, Rhett followed the words of the officiant. His voice was deep and gruff as he tried to hold himself together. 

“...And for as long as our love shall last.” 

Holding your left hand, Rhett returned the ring to your finger. Looking up, he caught your eyes, his breath hitching in his chest as he reveled in the way the sun basked you in a white glow. 

“Now it's your turn Y/N, please repeat after me.” 

Following the same phrases, the weight of the moment finally caught up with you. Tears pooled in your eyes before starting to flow down your cheeks. Releasing his hold on your hands once again, Rhett reached up, swiping his thumb along your cheekbone to wipe away your tears. 

“... And for as long as our love shall last.”

The tremor in your hand was evident as you slid the ring onto Rhett’s finger, the ring you’d kept in your possession for so many years. Seeing it back on his hand after all this time, he felt his throat clench with emotion. It was his ring. The ring you’d had gifted to him the night he’d become a member of the Professional Bull Riders. You'd wanted to show him how proud you were of what he'd accomplished, but the meaning of that ring change so much in such a short amount of time. It became a symbol of his love for you all those years ago when he'd given it back to you the night you left Wabang for college. A promise that he’d always be with you, even when you were far away.

“True marriage is more than just a ceremony or a piece of paper – it is a lasting bond that joins two lives and two hearts. Marriage is love. Companionship. Trust. And Respect. May you always find strength in each other, laugh with each other, and find safety and comfort in each other’s words and company. May you celebrate many joyful seasons together, support each other when days are difficult, and continue to learn and grow closer together with each passing year. By the virtue of the authority vested in me by the state of Wyoming, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride! Congratulations! ” 

Rhett’s wide palm cupped the side of your face and neck as he brought you in close with his hand on your waist. Your lips found his easily, coming together seamlessly. Holding him to you with a hand on his side, your body sang with elation. Breaking apart, you barely heard what the officiant was saying, but it didn’t matter. Before long you and Rhett were on your way out of the building to celebrate. 

……………………..

In just the short time you’d been away from Wabang, you’d both seen a wondrous glimpse into what you hoped the future held. There was freedom in this time spent together. Your heart was light and joyous as the two of you meandered back to the hotel room. Hands laced together, both of you enjoyed the sights and sounds spilling out of the bars as you walked past, your bodies constantly in contact. The anticipation for the rest of the night burned underneath every touch. 

The lobby of the hotel was still bustling with activity as people flocked to the restaurant and bar attached to it as well as many others who were just headed out to enjoy some late-night entertainment in Riverton. Finding your way to the bank of elevators, it didn’t take long for you to arrive back at the room. Reaching from behind you, Rhett pressed the key card against the pad, the mechanical whir of the lock sounded loudly in the silent hall. Allowing you to lead the way into the room, he was sure to hold open the heavy door. 

Rhett’s gaze stayed with you as you slipped off the jacket he’d placed over your shoulders during the walk back. Facing the window, you marveled at the sea of lights that branched out from the hotel. Removing his hat, he tossed it on the T.V. stand before joining you. The warmth radiating from him seeped into your skin as his hands ran down the length of your exposed arms before setting on your hips. Closing your eyes, you allowed your head to fall back against his chest, his lips ghosting over your neck and shoulder, paying attention to every bump and dip that marred your skin. 

Rhett’s nose skimmed along the curve of your neck, the rough drag of his stubble across your skin was enough to drag a quiet gasp from you. Hearing the quiet exhale that escaped you as he nipped at the crook of your neck, he focused on the feeling of his lips on your body. Lifting your good arm, you threaded your fingers through his hair, the strands soft beneath your touch. Feeling your turn in his arms, Rhett eased into capture your lips, the pace languid as if time was standing still. The two of you stayed like this, locked in an easy embrace until the need for air grew desperate. Rhett’s hold on you was truly the only thing keeping you standing at this point, the day’s activities had left your healing body fatigued beyond measure. Resting your forehead on his shoulder, your ragged breathing drifted over the cotton of his shirt, heating the skin below. 

Sniffing sharply, Rhett spoke for the first time since getting back to the room, “You okay?” 

“Yeah, just need to sit down.” 

“Okay. Let’s get you outta this first, all right?” 

Gathering the skirt of your dress in his hand, Rhett shimmied it up your torso, the fabric bunching around your waist. Taking a second to think, he paused to figure out the best way to get it off of your body without further aggravating your shoulder. With an idea in mind, he proceeded to delicately work it off of your frame, tossing it into the chair next to the bed before guiding you to sit. Still standing before you, Rhett’s appeared to be lost in thought. 

“You’re wearing entirely too many clothes.” The boldness of your words sent a new feeling floating through the room.

“You think so?”

“I know so. Now get over here so I can fix the problem.” 

Chuckling a low laugh, he came closer. His knees bent to kneel, but your hands on his thighs stopped him. Unclasping his belt buckle, you deftly popped the button on his jeans. Working the zipper down, you tugged at the pants, working them down his legs. Kicking them to the side, Rhett knelt down on the ground before you, the rough texture of the carpet bit into his skin as he brought himself closer to you. Running your finger down the front of his chest, you hummed with satisfaction. Carefully and with great focus you undid each of the buttons holding his shirt together. Sliding your hands under the edges you pushed the fabric away from his shoulders. Helping you free him the rest of the way, Rhett added the rusty orange shirt to the chair. Left now in his t-shirt and boxers, you leaned forward, your thumb swiping over his lips. Rhett’s eyes closed at the tenderness of your touch. His hand came up to hold your wrist, locking you in this moment. The faint echo of the kiss he pressed into your thumb was enough to spur you on. Rucking up the bottom of his shirt you removed the garment. 

Rhett’s heart beat wildly as you traced the tattoo on his pec. The barely there touch of your hand sent his mind reeling with desire. He leaned forward needing to feel your lips again. Still kneeling on the ground, he settled himself firmly between your thighs as his palms skimmed over your the outside of legs only stopping when he had a solid grasp on your hips. Hauling you closer to the edge of the bed, you brought your chest flush with his, the sensation of your skin on his electrified your senses. The desperation you felt to have him sat barely restrained as Rhett mouthed at the swell of your breasts, his fingernails ghosting over your legs and sides as he teased you with his touch. Easing his way off the floor, you moved with Rhett as he pushed you further onto the bed. 

The coarse comforter scratched along your back as you settled firmly on the mattress. Supporting his weight, Rhett dug one of his forearms into the bed by your head while the other traced along the curves of your body. Your chests pressed together with every deep ragged breath, savoring the feeling of having the other so near. Looking up at him through a lust-filled haze, you tucked the errant strands of hair that had fallen into Rhett’s face behind his ear. His body was on fire, the flames growing brighter with each touch. His body was crying out to him to hold you close, to worship every broken and battered part of you. Threading your fingers with his he held your good arm up by your head, as he worked his way down your body. 

Soft exhales accompanied every brush of his lips, your head pressing further back into the bed as your body arched up to meet him. The low timber of a groan tumbled from his chest as he pressed his lips to the jagged edges of the wound on your stomach. The pressure was so gentle it was nearly lost in the sounds that filled the room with a blissful symphony. Reaching your hips, Rhett kissed over the line of your underwear as he slid them down your body. Sitting back, he inched the fabric off of your legs before tossing it to the side. Kneeling again, he cradled your ankle and knee. Working his way back up, he roved over the expanse of your leg, his hands moving in tandem with the rest of him. 

The heat of his breath wafted over your core as he settled himself between your legs. The intimacy of his touch sent you keening, his moan vibrating lusciously against you. Your voice caught in your throat at the feeling of him. Needing more, you wound your hand into his hair, tugging firmly on the silken strands. Rhett adored the feeling of you, the taste of you as he gave into his base desires. For the first time since the attack, the fears that’d held Rhett back began to melt away. 

The roll of your hips accompanied by a quiet whine gave away how close you were to tumbling over the edge. Massaging your hips, Rhett’s words ghosted over you as he encouraged you to give in, “Let go, baby, I’m right here.”  

That was all took for you to give in. The muscles in your legs twitched lightly as you enjoy the bliss of your release. Rhett continued to worship your body, paying attention to the way you pressed yourself against him seeking the touch of tongue against you. Feeling your body sink back into the bed, he lifted himself up, placing a line of searing kisses along your stomach and chest until he reached your lips. Capturing your in an electric kiss, he shuddered as you ran your hands along his sides and back, hauling him closer. Sweeping your tongue across his lips, you begged him for more. Giving in more than willingly, the kiss became one of tongues and teeth. Running your hand down his chest, you reached for his hand. Grasping his wrist, you guided his hand to where you needed him the most, pleading for him to touch you. 

“Rhett…-” your voice was strained as a gasp stole the words from your mouth. 

“I know sweetheart.” 

He wasn’t sure when the energy of the room had shifted, but there was an undercurrent of pure desperation and need that flowed between the two of you, unlike anything he’d ever experienced with you. You could feel it too. There had been many nights spent together, exploring every inch of one another, learning exactly what made the other tick. And yet, since that fateful night at the rodeo, there had been a void between you, the cold blade of worry cutting a gash in your relationship. But the blackness of that divide seemed to lighten and close as the two of you found each other once again. Rhett’s eyes raked over your frame, his focus falling to the way your mouth fell open slightly as he touched you. His control wavered radically as felt your body tighten under him. 

“Baby, I need to feel you… I need you…” Rhett’s voice trembled as he vocalized his desires.

“Then take me.” your words flowed out on a rattling breath. 

Removing himself from you only long enough to take off his boxers, he settled between your thighs as soon as he was free. Rhett eased himself into you, the feeling of you soft and pliable against him sent a shiver down his spine. Dipping his head down, his lips captured yours as he moan into your mouth. Giving you a minute to adjust, he breathed deeply as he kissed you. Needing to hold onto something, you dug your fingers into his back and hair as you soaked in the feeling of him. 

“Please, I need you to move.” clawing at his back, you pleaded with him for more. 

Rhett wasted no time in meeting your request. Carefully, he tested the waters, moving his hips slowly, allowing you to tell him to stop if it was too much, but you didn’t. Instead, your grip on him tightened, your hips coming to meet his, searching for more. 

“I’m right here. It's okay, Rhett...” 

Your words broke him. A quiet sob fell from his lips as he realized you were giving him permission to have you in the way he’d been too afraid to seek. Burying his face in your neck, he snapped his hips sharply into you, the force yanking a gasp from both of you. The rhythmic sound of skin on skin sounded through the room, as he pushed the pair of you to point of no return. Feeling him begin to falter, you searched for his lips. Sliding your hand into his now damp curls, you pulled him into you before moving your attention to the base of his neck. Grazing the area with your teeth, you bit down lightly. The sharp sting of your bite spurred Rhett on, the pace of his thrusts ramping up as he reached between the two of you, needing to take you with him over the edge. Drawing gentle circles over your sensitive bud, he felt you clench around him, the all-encompassing sensation of you drew him closer. Dragging your hands down his back, you dug your fingers into his skin as you felt him finally find his release with you right behind.

Holding him against you, you fought to regain control of your lungs. Your faces were so close that you could feel the warmth of his breath on your cheek. Not ready to relinquish the feeling of you wrapped around him, Rhett rolled onto his back taking you with him. Resting happily on his chest, you closed your eyes and listened to his breaths as he ran his hand along your spine. Looking at you, he felt his body tighten with emotion. The damp wash of your tears pooling against his chest only added to moment. His hands came up to hold you as he forced himself to stay calm. 

“You okay, baby?”

“Yeah, just happy. I love you, Rhett Abbott.” Tears of pure joy and love continued to flow as you held onto Rhett.

“I love you too, Y/N Abbott.” 

This was what he’d always wanted... what you'd both dreamed of. A life together far away from the horrors that you’d both experienced. A life where the two of you were free to love one another without hesitation or fear of what was to come. You were his everything and he knew more clearly than ever that he’d do whatever it took to stay by your side for as long as the world would allow. 

---------------

@lostinthefandoms11

@hope-love-equality2

@eugene-emt-roe

[oh-no-another-idea]

manuscript search tag game

Today’s tag is brought to you by the spectacular @aohendo whose url gives me great joy to type--aohendo aohendo aohendo...sounds like music. Thanks for the tag!

From Invisible Girl:

Strange and Mangle: (gives you a whole bunch of Paris and Velia)

“You don’t want me to have a chance?” Velia demanded. “You don’t want me to have a real chance at a good life, finally? At being whole, finally, at being someone real?”

The lightbulb swung again, and light danced over Paris’ cheekbones. Velia wondered if maybe she could cast a shadow right then, like that light was somehow different than all others.

“You’re already real,” he said eventually, and he sounded strange. “You’re already whole.”

Velia stared. She wanted to laugh, she wanted to cry, and she could’ve hugged him if she wasn’t already so angry. Paris was a real load of work. She wanted to tell him so, but the words refused to come to her lips.

“You’re insane,” she managed, the words confused and mangled.

From Stars and Ships:

Mark: (for any curious folk, this is kinda how Aakov and Quin meet. Yipee.)

The guards didn’t notice them right away, which meant they’d made it two doors down before the shouts ran out behind them. Without warning, Aakov slammed Quin up against a clear cell door, his right shoulder getting the brunt of it and making him yelp in pain, but the energy blasts that were aimed in their direction hit the end of the hallway in front of them, leaving scarred blackened marks on the wall.

The man behind the cell door leered out at them. “At least give me a show,” he said suggestively, waggling his eyebrows at Quin still draped around the mechanic.

“Sorry, no time!” Aakov said cheerily, and they were off again, Quin’s arm nearly yanked off his body as the mechanic stumbled down the hall. He paused to slam Quin around twice more, once into the same side of the hall—“Predictability,” he breathed excitedly while Quin’s shoulder screamed again—and then to the ground, where he all but sat on Quin while the shots soared above them again.

Map: (the chaotic family back in action)

Quin threw the brake on the ship and then leaned over and flicked at one of his screens. A map popped up of the city, and he zoomed in close. “There are likely to be empty warehouses we can lay low at.”

“I don’t like it,” Aaliyah argued, pacing. Her hands flicked to her swords, stashed against her thighs, and then away again. “Too open, too easily stumbled upon. I vote we break into a private residence and establish base there.”

“You wanna break and enter and knock out a family?” Jax asked. “Just making sure we’re on the same page and all.”

Tags for everyone and anyone, I mean that most ardently, please tag me so I can see your work! New words: feather, snuggle, candle, arrange, and soft!

And then psst @inkstaindusk @kaiusvnoir @sleepy-night-child​ @indecentpause​ @tragicbackstoryenjoyer​ any interest?

[growwithmeastrology]

Thursday, June 22nd 2023

Sun in Cancer ♋️🌊, Moon in Leo ♌️🔥

Today’s energies could play out in a couple of different ways. Which ever way it goes, it should be uh, entertaining?

The Leo Moon meets up with Mars in Leo. This could be bold, passionate and ambitious drive to take action in some way, or it could be impulsive, aggressive and stubborn conflict. There’s a high road and a low road to all energies and today, we’re playing with a lot of fire. All you fire heavy people out there, stay cool. Try not to 🤯.

The Leo Moon will also sextile Mercury in Gemini. This adds the element of expression into these bold and passionate energies. It could be really great for expressive conversation but based on the other aspects, it could yet again be 🤯 and 📣💥.

It’s not over yet, folks. The Leo Moon will also square Uranus in Taurus. So now, all of this feisty energy squares off with the planet of chaos and disruption bringing out frustrations or unexpected changes. You guessed it…🤯 with a little 💥📣and a dash of 💣🔥.

Things may not go according to plan today. The best way to look at this is that sometimes when things don’t go our way, it’s an opportunity to open a different door and try something new.

We should all be doing our best to express ourselves in open and authentic ways, just watch out for hot heads or generally temperamental people in your life. Hopefully the Cancer Sun will help 🧯💦. Have an amazing day and sorry about all the emojis 🤷🏻‍♀️. I’m fire heavy. Just trying go with playful expression. 🤗 At least my fire is Sagittarius. ♐️🤡😂

Learn more about your personal energies and how the daily forecast affects you! Comment below⬇️ or DM me for a FREE consultation.

Grow With Me Astrology provides astrological roadmaps that empowers people to take full control of their lives. Let me reveal to you the most powerful tool you already possess.

If you’d like to support or donate:

🅿️ PayPal @KameyBatizWilson, Venmo @KameyBatiz or CashApp $NaliniFlor

[the-firebird69]

There are a couple things to add and I'll send it sometimes a wise guy but he says it happens to him all the time to everything and privy this is we have to be and here we go

Is a long shot going on and she's too idiots trying to kidnap our son over and over. They did it today he was disgusted he wants them out we voted today and we're going to get them out they're ridiculous it's well past it it's like little kitty land with a bunch of moronic dangerous people who are murderers and we don't want that it's happening tonight we're going to start in Earnest too

We have a huge number of things to do and a son and daughter assurance their work will be better than it was and it's already exemplary and they needed that and they are professionals and they're getting stronger and these guys are trying to tap them energy but we need to do it the old-fashioned way and we're doing it there's a huge number of things to do workwise we have a lot of work a lot of construction projects too and here in Florida. They're all over the place too but we have giant projects I know some mentioned one of them today we almost forgot about it's trying to reinforce certain structures in place they're going to fall apart when the water drops and it's about building structures too in places not really well known that you needed I mentioned it and can't recall it right now pretty big structures and back Daddy hasn't done anything about it it's time to realize we need it we also need peers and other for ships to come in on and you can't wait for it to drop you have to go down to the bedroom bedrock and there's a way to do it and how much people know how you just drop down the form on top and you pull the muck out and you fill it it's been done for a long time and you displace water not the month huge numbers of people are on the phone and they want to know what happens the first time and didn't happen it's ridiculous. We need to get going on these projects and we have interference and son and daughter say that we have to use it and we are we're trying to get stuff in we defend it sometimes have to pull it out but we keep doing it just it just takes a long time. And he says we have stuff here to draw them off with, lake Okeechobee is a big one and we have to emphasize it and start a program up with people doing that and we need to do it by hand and by other and we need to do it ourselves it's getting real busy trying to do other stuff and although it's really important to him and there is something down low it's an asteroid and it's uranium it has a solid core and it has a shell and it's pretty big and it's full of uranium and they were mining it earlier and they stopped and now people are trying to get there and they can't and it's the morlock and people are interested in going down and mining it. Didn't really want them there but they're going down there

Other items in Florida there are some problems with having with people who are fired and laid off and they're trying to get to the neighborhood all the time and they need more cops and more cops are coming but 100,000 more for both towns tonight it's already $80,000 here that's a huge number folks and they're going to stop them and about 50% of the population needs to be arrested and they haven't started on that much maybe 20% but people from out of town want to fill it in

Massive massive numbers of people are trying to get here right now it's a war out there and they're being stopped this huge interest in Hera and the Giants and the bunker and tons of people asking questions of trump and he says doesn't know I think it might be lying and it's going on and on cuz he's AI man and it is going to be horrible for them sorry very bad and pretty soon it's going to be over. The hostilities and other have risen instead of falling and we started throwing the stuff out and they start getting their asses handed to them and they blame us but it will be over shortly they are getting their asses handed to them between this and a whole bunch of other things that make it look like they have everything they're going to be in a lot of trouble.

Terry cheesman is heading out the social security idea and he is going to town because there's tons of money in it now ridiculous money and they have to do something about it and they're moving on it we have several billion applications and they're trying to go through them and they can't really because of lack of staff they're waking up to that problem and it's not going good for them. There's about 500,000 people just outside town and they are getting their asses handed to them and it is not fun for them. We heard some communications between them and it's about devices and they're dangerous and we're going to put it out there the form of a warrant shortly they put out the hail Mary bar that's what they're looking for now we're up to a lot of stuff but these people are nasty you're going to get in there and rip a whole bunch out I'm going to do that now there are other things but they're not as huge

Thor Freya

[mechahero]

[honey-milk-depresso]

If that's okay could i request Neige leblanche ( if you write for him) with a chaotic gen z MC?

Bonus if MC is also very affectionate towards him.

Gsksh he's such a cutiee 🥺

Sure! I added in Jade and Trey cuz I simp-

Neige Leblanche:

I'm ashamed-

I googled how are gen z people personalities are like on the majority scale-

although I'm a gen z baby myself

I-

I'm sorry society-

Technically, google says they're thrifty, mobile and wily (clever),

I'm not so sure-

but I'm guessing to sum it up

the majority is sassy??

Online mostly-

Idk, can be wrong but-

majority of us are like "bruh-"

to sum it up :))))

But anyways, I guess you're pretty much optimistic in the pessimistic things-

"Wow! There's a better chance of overblots spawning so my chances of dying has increased!"

Yeah-

Neige can't understand a single thing about it-

And you're mostly causing trouble with those two other certain NRC first years of Heartslabyul,

along with your fire breathing... cat???

Well,

you being optimistic in the negativity, doesn't affect how you treat your lover,

you treat them affectionately, and Neige wants you to think positive IN the POSITIVE-

no not covid 19, that's the only test you wanna fail folks-

STAY SAFE OUT THERE-

Neige is very happy that you're very affectionate and share your feelings very openly with him, it gives him comfort knowing you trust him!

Maybe if you could figure out what's wrong with Vil with your easy going personality, he might get closer to him again, and together with all three of you being friends!

Well, Vil as the thirdwheeled-

Trey Clover

Oh man-

Same thing as above

Be optimistic in the negative

"Wow, boy do I sure wanna be yeeted by Riddle's overblot!"

Why????

Why do you wish that upon yourself?????

Well,

he's very concern,

but you seem to be like Cater,

you sassy Magicam user-

sometimes he finds that adorable and funny of you to just whip out your phone, do a meme pose in front of him, while kissing his cheek, take the next photo and you're dabbing while he's laughing in the background.

Wholesome memes ya'll-

He also finds it adorable that you like being affectionate towards him,

he kinda needs that since being vice dorm leader is h a r d

super tiring

you just coming up to him and just cuddle with him boosts his energy level and just replenishes him.

He so soft-

I WANNA CUDDLE TREY WTF-

Oh man, I'm simping a lot for Trey today-

H m m m m m m

A n y w a y s-

Trey kinda wants you to be positive in the positive-

and help you not to try getting killed-

that'll be ideal-

Trey just loves and cares for you, what can I say?

Jade Leech

Hahaha

I simp for too many vice dorm leaders-

w h y-

Okay,

Jade finds you...

very intriguing to say the most.

At first.

He finds it amusing how you're so positive in the negative.

Is that even possible?

If your world is filled of your type of personality,

your world is truly strange and interesting to him.

And you mostly are the one getting into trouble cuz boy you are chaotic, together with the Adeuce combo,

you three are absolutely a mess-

"Hahaha, we love trauma-"

Takes out your phone and upload Azul's overblot with the caption: "Hahaha, we're gonna die-"

and upload it on Magicam.

hahahah

very f u n n y

which surprised him when you started acting so affectionate around him.

Aren't you an adorable little angelfish?

Sort of-

Jade... well doesn't want you to actually harm yourself,

he just doesn’t want you to take your weird... wishes, yeah wishes-

too seriously.

Unlike the other two, he won't stop you from being "positively sarcastic",

but he'll be like the other two, to stop you from hurting yourself.

How is he suppose to rejuvenate and recharge his already low from energy self?

He needs those hugs man-

So be a good angelfish and take care of yourself!

[humancomedy]

Human Comedy: Tragedy - 3

Mika: (......)

Content Warning!

Mentions of disordered eating within.

Location: Inside the Bus

Mika: (......)

(...Ngah~ Nah, this ain't good. I can't just ignore her—I'll try callin' out to her.)

Heeey, Anzu-chan?

Ahaha, ya really jumped. Didja not realize I was here?

I was real surprised too, I just realized myself that we were on the same bus.

We were pretty far away from each other, and today's a holiday so the bus's packed like a can o' sardines, too.

Umm, puttin' that aside, Anzu-chan, ya wanna sit here?

There's a lotta traffic, so it seems like it'll be a while 'til we get to the TV station. It'll be rough if ya gotta stand up the whole time, right?

My eatin' habits are all better now, too, so my energy levels are pretty much back to normal. I'm doin' a-okay.

Hey, why're ya bein' all reserved...? Just go on an' sit. Huh, idols oughta be prioritized, ya say?

Ngah~ Yer really makin' me wonder if yer admirable or just an idiot... Ya can't be sayin' stuff like that.

Ahh, someone else nabbed the seat.

Aw, jeez... yer gonna miss out on a lotta stuff if ya act like that, Anzu-chan.

......

(Uuh... The conversation's over... Well, it's bad manners to talk inside the bus, but it's real awkward if somebody ya know is standin' next to ya and yer both quiet as the grave.)

(And... Wait, I gotta keep an eye on Anzu-chan a lil'.)

'Scuse me, comin' through~

Um, what're ya readin' on yer phone, Anzu-chan? Something fer work? Wontcha get carsick if ya try to read inside this shaky bus?

It's bad manners, too. 'S pretty dark in here, so the light might hurt other people's eyes.

And on top o' that, the waves from 'em are supposed t'be pretty much poison fer folks with pacemakers... although we are a lil' far from the priority seats. [1]

Ngah, why're ya laughin', Anzu-chan?

Wha, I'm naggin' too much? Sorry, was I being annoyin'?

That ain't it? 'S more like I'm startin' to act a lot like Oshi-san...?

I wonder... It ain't like I can tell myself, though...

Both now an' back then, Oshi-san's always been far outta my reach, so even if ya tell me that, it don't really hit home, y'know?

But lately, everyone I meet keeps on tellin' me the same thing... I wonder why? Maybe he really has rubbed off on me 'cause we're livin' together.

Ngah~? "Aren't you happy?"

Well, I've always admired him, so it ain't that I'm not happy, but...

I reckon it's awfully disrespectful to Oshi-san, I guess, t'put us side by side like that... Or more like, it's kinda scary?

But recently, it feels like people are expectin' me to be more like him... It makes me real uneasy.

Hajime: Aaah, please wait! We're getting on, toooo!

Tomoya: Hurry up, Mitsuru~ Can't you go any faster? Sorry for rushing in, but we can't be late!

Mitsuru: Wait, wait! I'm screwed if you guys leave me behind~! I don't know my way around here!

...Nii~chan, are you alright? I didn't shake you around too much, did I?

Nazuna: I'm okay. But really, I can walk by myself. There's no need for you to carry me.

Mitsuru: Ehehe, but carrying you around is getting more and more fun. ☆

Tomoya: That's really like you, Mitsuru... It sure is handy to have you around.

Nazuna: Yup. Okay, everyone's on the bus now, right? I'm sorry for the disturbance, you can start driving now~♪

Mika: Nazuna-nii...?

Nazuna: Eep, you scared me! W-Why're you here, Kagehira?

Mika: Somethin' wrong with that? Ya sure are dramatic... The bus started movin', so if ya don't settle down, yer gonna fall right over, y'know?

Hajime: Wah, Kagehira-senpai... And Anzu-oneechan too! Hello~♪

...What's that? You're wondering if we're collaborating with Valkyrie today?

Nazuna: Wait, I haven't heard anything about that...?

Mika: Ah, today I'm workin' as a staff member, not as part o' Valkyrie.

I've part-timed at the TV station a lotta times before, and I get paid pretty well even though the work ain't too hard.

Hajime: Um, is Valkyrie low on funds again? Kagehira-senpai, it feels like every time we meet you're always in the middle of a job...

Mika: Nah, we've been pretty alright lately. It's just that the past couple o' days, Oshi-san's been lockin' himself up workin' on something.

If Oshi-san ain't with me, I can't work as Valkyrie, so I'd rather take up a normal job if I've got too much time on my hands.

I'm gonna live on my own from spring onward, so I gotta save up for those kinda expenses, anyway.

Nazuna: Eh, Kagehira, you're going to live on your own? W-Will you be okay...?

Mika: What's that supposed t'mean? I'm able to provide fer myself, y'know. I always got asked to look after the lil' kids in my hometown and all.

Cleanin', cookin', laundry—I'm right certain I can do it all perfectly.

Nazuna: Ah... Now that you mention it, that's right. In a lot of ways, you've definitely got more of a grip on your life than Itsuki and I.

But even though I know that, why do I feel like I can't leave you alone?

Mika: Yer lookin' down on me way too much, Nazuna-nii.

Anyway, I didn't look into the details of today's job too much, but... I'll be helpin' out fer y'all's live, huh, Ra*bits?

Mitsuru: Yup, Anzu-nee-chan is our producer today ♪

Nazuna: You should know these things before you accept a job, Kagehira. I really can't leave you alone~ I'll worry...

Oh, and we are going to be doing a live, but the main event of today is a photo shoot for a TV program.

Mitsuru: Eheh, a program with us as the stars is gonna be broadcasted! We've appeared in a couple shows before, but this is the first time we're the main guests, so I'm excited~☆

Mika-chan-senpai, make sure to watch us when they broadcast it, okay? ♪

Mika: Ah, yeah...

Oshi-san doesn't like it when I watch TV 'cause he thinks it's vulgar, but if he's busy with somethin' and not at home, I just might take a gander.

In Japan, it's common for train announcements to ask people to turn off their phones near priority seats.

← prev ❖ all ❖ next →

[kim-monsterlings]

Cathair - M Kelpie x F Human (Reader) // NSFW

The pictures do not belong to me. I only created the mood board. Do not repost my work anywhere.

Content: NSFW/Lemon; childhood friends, mentions of inflicted harm to reader (near drowning, scar on left upper arm), minor angst, allusions to death, growing fluff, hugging and intimate embraces, kissing, receiving oral, fading out/allusions to more NSFW - if there is anything else anyone would like added, let me know <3

Wordcount: 5292

Faebruary Summary: after abandoning your childhood home, the memory of your kelpie and your feelings for him draw you back

Notes: apologies for this being so delayed! I had some time off at the beginning of the year, but the lovely Cathair is finally here. I hope you love him! <3

Masterlist // Faebruary Masterlist

Gentle embraces left dark impressions on your back from grieving family; grieving in anticipation, as you travelled the miles to your hometown. Their farewells - certain they would be an eternal goodbye, rang as your only company the closer you came to your abandoned house near the valley.

 Crowded by the creeping tree line, it rested abandoned for years. Only faint memory beckoned you through brambles to the smallest clearing, a far way from the closest bus stop, that itself farther from the train station.

 Packing light hadn't eased the burden of returning, though you wouldn't stay long. The guise of wanting to pack up your old things would wane after several days, and if that hadn't yet exhausted you, the trial of rekindling what you remembered as more than friendship with the woodland kelpie would.

 If he hadn't drowned you by then.

 Somehow, your home still stood. Neglected and damaged but there all the same. Untouched without your needing to check: this land cursed by folk wasn't sought after. It had always been your family's, no matter how disputed by the creatures rarely emerging from their murky rivers.

 Yet you went in the hopes of finding the kelpie. Your sister's wishing for your wellbeing manifested in delicately crafted charms. Blair's wards were useless against the likes of man-eating creatures, and only somewhat effective against true fae. It hung all the same, like the silver bridle fell at your kelpie's throat across the clearing.

 It was only right for Cathair to guard his territory.

 Standing before you like a daydream, the dark horse pawed with gnarled hooves before your old home. Too far to see the unforgettable glow in his blackened eyes, the glinting moss tangled in a thick mane danced in the soft wind. The sense of unease at being so close to him twisted your navel, though not from fear like it once had; from pain at seeing him after so long, and now wanting to flee.

 With a deep dig at the damp earth, Cathair moved. Faint sunlight glinted along his flank, an eerie sheen forcing your stare down. Today, you wouldn't challenge him. Not so soon, with a low breath close enough to chill through to your bones.

 Jagged teeth snapped not far from your shoulder: a warning, and one you wouldn't heed. He passed with a scent so familiar you nearly reached out, desperate for the rush of warmth his thin frame could bring when curled around you.

 Instead, you settled for looking back when he left to the trees. "I missed you, Cathair."

 With the swish of his tail, the faint scar on your left arm ached. The light of the clearing vanished into the woods too, away from you and nearer the body of deep water a short walk away; close enough someone could run off unnoticed. How cold it was rushed back to you. The emptiness beneath the surface drove you into the untouched house, onto old floorboards creaking with every step.

 You had given yourself three days. Optimistic, Blair said. She gave you an hour, whispered onto your shoulder as she saw you off.

 If he came near enough to question why, after so long hiding, after years of silence from disappearing late in the night, your excuse would be the same you told your family, though nobody believed it. You wondered if he would cling to the lie and hope you left again.

 The same mess waited indoors, of scattered possessions too insignificant, left behind while the mark of a kelpie stung fresh on your arm, and his kin, your friend, chased you away as you ran.

 If he came closer again, you would tell him the truth. That Cathair's brutality in defending you as you nearly drowned hadn't forced you away, but his family had. It was the fault of his brother for seeking you out and dragging you down the banks into cold water. Cathair saved you.

 The fresh bedsheets almost smelled like him.

 Coming home brought a sleep long into the morning. Even as a lie, you still began sifting through old diaries, some with handwriting far harder to read than the delicate script from your family. This curled and looped inconsistently, signed by the little boy with dark hair, always your shadow in photographs pinned to the pages.

 The photos told the same stories of the friendship you remembered, while your sister preferred the safety of indoors until night, when the child with a smile wider and brighter than yours returned to the woods. They told of you both growing up, just out of reach of Cathair's family - before his brother came from the waters in his footsteps.

 By the time your back ached from leaning over faded pages, it was late afternoon. The groove deep outside the threshold hadn't been crossed. Even left untouched, the figure lurking in the forest darted closer. Out of view, but there.

 Here.

 The empty bag on your shoulder swung when you reached for your phone, unsurprised to find the call from Blair. You'd told her of your arrival, reassuring her - and everyone she would then turn to, that you hadn't yet been stolen by fae folk.

 Surviving the night was different, and her breath caught on the other end when you answered with, "I'm alive and unharmed. You can stop checking on me."

 "Never," she said, her small, light laugh rushing over you. "Is it still standing?"

 "Barely."

 The doorframe held beneath your shoulder. Blair replied, something quiet and nonsense. This was all padding until she could pester for more and as she fretted, you looked to the sheen of moss along the kelpie's mane, cautiously stepping from the trees.

 "Hello?"

 "Sorry. I'm here," you said, and your sister cleared her throat.

 Blair spoke softer, as though knowing where your focus drifted in the pause. "His necklace," she said and even through the trees, the slight reflection of the bridle glinted low on the kelpie's chest. "Have you broken him?"

 "He doesn't need breaking. He never has." Her sigh followed yours. Cathair held steady among the trees as you came to stand further from the door, and a part of you hoped he heard as you said, "I trust him."

 "You trust the kin of the kelpie who tried to drown you?"

 His ears twitching may have been coincidence before, but the rising of his head couldn't be. Your stare held. "With my life."

 There was little more to say to one another. They disapproved and you didn't care. The impasse was as old as you, so you promised to speak later - to reassure her that you were still alive with a promise you would be home soon, before shrugging your bag right and drawing in a breath.

 "Cathair?"

 Hooves stepped forth. Still not the form you wished for - not the sweet embrace, the lilting charm inherent in folk - but the dark horse revealing himself completely now still tripped your pulse.

 "Hi," you whispered, quiet, but he heard as well as he heard your call, his tail whipping. "Is it just you? Not... not your family?"

 His muzzle twisted. With the inherent threat, you had to swallow a laugh. It only lured you further from the safety of your home. This creature, this gentle kelpie responsible for saving your life, wouldn’t harm you, and still, the land hadn't disturbed your rest. A family of kelpies would've sought the first trespassing human out in a night, or less.

 Cathair's head fell low. Yes. Only him.

 Nothing betrayed the fate of his family, even as his ears continued twitching back. However they came to leave their land, whatever chased them or otherwise, it was well-deserved. Your deep scar ached as you reached to scratch it, drawing sharpened eyes before the shadows embraced enshrouded again.

 Branches parted for his wide form and created a path you followed. It veered down to the water, the path well-trodden - one you remembered clear enough, from only one journey down - but you turned away.

 Unfamiliar faces watched you walk through the town you once called home. The few you remembered, friends you thought of as family, like distant cousins, had followed yours in moving away from land plagued by folk, and you busied yourself in buying the supplies you needed for the rest of your stay, if not a little extra, too.

 You were home within the hour, bag weighed down by fresh food, a small first aid kit - as a precaution, and a heavy bundle of meat in your arms. If there hadn't been a curled horse before your home, the fresh scent would've enticed him from the water.

 "Did you miss me?" His head lifted, only enough to narrow at the bundle. The trembling energy tight in your stomach pulled you closer. "Did you think I'd leave so soon?"

 Cathair rose, though you held steady; you had to. Muscles locked as the creature with unnatural jaws crept closer, your throat tight. Hot breaths fanned across your face, the kelpie standing well over you. Like this, the allure of his bridle made your fingers twitch.

 If he were human, nothing would have stopped you from leaning into him.

 Instead, you lifted your chin. "Want an apple?"

 Dark ears twitched forward, a faint green to his coat enough for your fingers to curl against reaching for him. This close, even looking at his chain was a feat itself; any other kelpie would have reared back from the looming threat of subjugation. Extending your hand never made you fear an extra nip to your fingertips, but still, your breath caught. Only a slight lean closer and you would be near enough to snatch the bridle away, trapping him as he was now.

 You wanted him back, not trapped.

 One huff and the apple lifted from your palm, snatched by a jaw opening too far, flesh jagged like his teeth.

 "You're welcome," you teased. His tail twitched but he didn't move. When his head lowered, you couldn't help smiling. Cathair nudged his muzzle against your empty palm, nickering softly. "If you come back later, there may be spare meat for you."

 Reaching out had been ambitious. Cathair darted back before you could stroke his long mane and when he faded without turning, the constriction in your chest drew tighter.

 Banishing him from your thoughts wasn't so easy now you were no longer far from him. Out of sight perhaps, but only minutes from where you fretted over long-settled dust. It passed the time, to trace old etches into walls from hours playing with your sister, until it darkened enough outside that a faint glow from beyond the door beckoned you.

 That same glow haunted your nightmares after leaving, but soothed you again when you woke, finding comfort in the kelpie who had drawn you from the murky waters rather than sacrificing you to his kin.

 That need for comfort ached through you and it had been long enough after forcing yourself to eat something that you reached for a jacket. Not one breath from closing the door at your back, Cathair distanced himself. Water clung to his coat with a tangling of water reeds, knotted and thick. His tail swished at your approach but the unmistakable flaring of his nostrils brought you closer, beginning to smile.

 "Sit with me." Without looking to affirm what the coil in your stomach told you - that every scuffle of hooves was another further from you, the two wrapped bundles captivated him. "Please."

 Before you, he wouldn't eat. Not like this and not the meat remaining bundled in its wrapping. Cathair joined you, though. Remaining a fair distance and so far your fingertips tingled, forced into your lap and busied by reaching for your snack, in the hope he would join you not like this.

 Faced with a kelpie now, heat crept along your cheekbones. That Cathair came at all held you from retreating.

 "My sister says hi," you began, picking at one half of the sandwiches, the one intended for you. His ears flicked. "They all do."

 And it wasn’t a lie so much as a twisted truth. They missed being here, not necessarily him. Had the rush of hot air not been enough to signify his irritation, the short whinny was plenty. Best not to inform him of their predictions for your improbable journey home.

 You pushed the bundle to your back and inched closer. "Have you been alone all this time? Is your family... are they gone?" Head lifting, he nickered as he had that afternoon and even quieter than him, you whispered, "thank you." For saving me.

 Whatever laid at the bottom of his territory - whatever was left to, was none of your concern. The kelpie unsettled was, who only shivered worse at your nearing again.

 "I wanted to visit. Often. If you had chased me away again," your jaw locked against the words. "It would have broken me, Cathair. Did you miss me, too?"

 Not one twitch appeased you. Not one turn to his ears nor stretch of his torn muzzle eased the pang in your chest, thudding like a rib had cracked. The press of your fist into your stomach didn’t lessen it, either.

 The curl to your lips wasn't much a smile, reaching your cheeks but not your eyes. Every forced breath scratched your throat. "It's late. Don't you ignore me, okay?"

 He remained still while your muscles barely held beneath you. The bundle rested nearer him with every step towards the cabin.

 And with every breath taken further from him, the truth in Blair's pleas for you to stay throbbed in your temples. How could you know if Cathair had wanted you to return? If the same kelpie who ensured you left his land longed for you, too, then his snapping jaws wouldn't have mirrored the jaws of his kin when dragging your drowning body under the surface.

 If it was nothing more than a wilful fantasy, the soft groan at your back was a hallucination. Rougher pants and deeper grunts spurred your heart into a flurry. While he underwent a change so torturous you could only imagine, you clutched the doorframe with white knuckles for support.

 Without an audible footstep, heat pressed to your back. Hastened breaths nestled against your hair, lips pressing to your crown. It strained your senses when he whispered your name, with his arms creeping around your waist and drawing you to him, back from the door.

 Grooves to his palm tickled brushing to yours. Cathair slid his fingers down, and swayed when you softened to his chest. Turning as far as his shoulder, your kissed the pale skin, gently first, before returning the favour and stealing a breath of his scent.

 Kelpies hardly changed far from humans, and he had been so alone. The embrace eased your tremors to little more than a whisper at his chest. "Will you come inside?"

 He only hummed low, breathing, "no."

 So simple, yet one syllable broke you. He held you from turning completely, his fingertips stroking the backs of your hands. "Why not?"

 "No," he said. Large palms fell to run down your thighs and against your hips, binding you to him. Familiar muscle from his bare frame tensed and the press of a chain dug into your back. "Not alone with you."

 Before you asked again, his touch flitted against your upper arm. The tracing of your scar left you paralysed long after his return into the woods.

 No matter how far you dared venture along the same path he followed, no flitting shadow rose. No prints from hooves or bare feet led you to him but that scar ached how it never had before.

 The softest touch from a window left open along your arm cradled you in your sleep, tricking you into believing he finally came to you. Old nights of the window opening wide enough for a slender frame to sneak indoors came to mind and the wind mimicked his embrace, careful, and always cold.

 But he hadn't come inside. He wouldn't.

 Little remained to sort through. Meaningless and pointless now to complete, yet you wasted the day sifting through them. Some - sketchbooks, usually - settled with smeared prints, like someone had traced where you had before leaving. You ran over the jagged edges left from torn pages, matching the paper you had rushed to carry away; portraits of him, old messages passed in notebooks. More pages were missing, though.

 Maybe the faint scent lingering on old bedsheets hadn't been just wishful thoughts.

 Only for fresh air, you cracked the door open late that night. To find bright eyes fixated on you frightened you back, staggering against the frame, forgetting in that second who watched.

 He never faltered.

 Guilt gnawed at you the longer you stood in the doorway, but you wouldn't go further with his heavy tail swishing, no doubt his sharp teeth bared if you approached now, so late.

 "Cathair," you whispered, and his dark form moved with a trembling shudder. "I'll leave soon. Just... just come in, and sleep warm. I feel bad enough as it is." When fae folk made no move to come closer, you sighed and let the door close, calling, "goodnight."

 Collapsing onto the cushions in the dark living room was followed by chills creeping over you. With the land of a kelpie came an unease, a familiarity haunting every sight. Not every night could be so peaceful and you tossed restlessly, until the first rap of the door felt more like your thoughts taunting you than reality.

 For one, slow step indoors, your intended bed for the night hadn't been within his line of sight, but Cathair turned only to you. The door closed at his back and he crept closer, bare from the hips up - clad only in torn fabric hanging from his thighs, hardly covering him. Soft light cast a gentler glow on him now, along the dark hairs of his chest, the impression of bone ghosting his thin frame. You longed to touch him where you used to, along the curve of his collarbones, where you once toyed with his necklace without ever contemplating breaking him.

 Blair would tell you to snatch it from him, to bring him to his knees. You would have him, your Cathair, then, but he wouldn’t be the same - not trapped and enslaved.

 You couldn’t move. When he fell before you to his knees, a hand rising slowly, you relished in the familiar heat leaning over you. Moss-thickened hair framed sharp features, clinging to his pale flesh. Beneath that silken hair, thin slits to his neck flattened now on land. He touched your cheek with slow, deep breaths.

 Then he softened, fingertips running down your throat. "You are too comfortable around me."

 It was too late for an argument, any debate - and it would be a fight. You wouldn't stop until Cathair welcomed you like he used to, with his smile unnaturally wide and long arms curling you close, but now was too late, too dark in your moon-lit lounge.

 This may have been the first time Cathair came through the door in your presence. It was unheard of for a kelpie to pine after a human, but to follow through; to slip into your bed and kiss you, careful to hide his daggered teeth, only enticed his family. It made you a challenge.

 The cushion became your pillow after you kissed his palm and his touch fell back. With the room dark and your trust implicit, you closed your eyes. As hesitant as to your cheek, his fingertips fell down your waist.

 "There is room for two here," you whispered. "Room for two in the bed. In our-"

 His chest warmed beneath your cheek and with each careful stride nearer the bedroom once shared in secret, his heart beat harder under your temple. The weight of his bridle tucked near your crown, hanging heavy from his throat but you rested by his shoulder rather than risk hurting him.

 "I do miss you," you said quietly. Your hand stroked down the slope of his chest, hugging him closer. “I really do.”

 His breath warmed your cheek. "You're tired."

 "Tired of wishing you stayed."

 Cathair stiffened around you for the slightest moment. "I never left."

 The first bend to his knees came and you made to lean back, only for a rough grunt to choke in his throat. He held you close until the bedsheets made space before laying you back, lingering only to tuck back your hair.

 "Cathair-"

 "Goodnight."

 The lithe muscles to his back rippled at your fingers on his wrist. His arm to your lips made him swallow hard, the kiss softening just below his elbow, where the scar forever wounding your arm rested.

 "Will you stay? Stay on the sofa."

 He turned, a kiss returned to your palm, a hint of a small smile, before the bedroom door closed. The fleeting skim of teeth warmed your stomach in a rush of everything but fear.

 You woke at the front door closing.

 Blair, in the least, didn't approve. Your parents wouldn't be told of your late night visit, and you couldn't promise your sister it wouldn't happen again. Not as you tightened your coat around your chest and followed the path laid by hooves.

 Thick boots couldn't steady you over damp earth and fallen leaves. With every step from your home, the woods quieted. Bird songs softened until your steps alone rang in the air.

 That pool left you frozen, the creature within looking so much like another pale-bodied being that strength escaped you. Several years before, that cold water rushed into your lungs. How he could swim in it, live in it, reminded you of the nature of the man wading deeper.

 And still, you would give anything to be with him again.

 The figure waist-deep tilted his head. Thin hair floated with the murky water, rippling against the shadows of his lithe muscles.

 "When will you leave?"

 The invitation back indoors fell silent at your lips. Cathair held his palms where water ran, a glimmer from his chain against the surface. He strode deeper in your silence, up to his shoulders blades. Following him even into deserted waters, no matter your trust, couldn't happen today, and he crept to his throat.

 "You said you would leave me again. Soon. So," he murmured, head tipping back, moss clinging to his crown. "Go."

 Before he fell, before he returned to pretending you weren't here, you dug your feet deeper into the ground. "I'm here. You forced us out, too," you called, harsh and unsympathetic to the sudden locking of his muscles. "I wanted to be with you, Cathair. I want...” When your words trembled, the sting rose to blur your vision. "Send me away. I won't come back again."

 Halfway home, your foot fell from a loose stone. The soft whisper of your name on the wind beckoned you back, though you continued until you could collapse on a bed he used to lay beside you on, aching to call Blair, though her patronising would worsen your suffering. Either you drowned or returned miserable and all you wanted was the kelpie hiding from you.

 If he wouldn't come to you within the next days, you would be home in less than week. The fresh air walking to town spared you the time to torment yourself with thoughts of him, busy feigning passing smiles, hoping nobody would recognise you as the girl who nearly became a kelpie's prey; the girl who still wanted one.

 Before dark, you rested surrounded by disorganized possessions that ought to be burned, lest you turn to them again for comfort. Some things you posted home that day, old scraps and photos, but there was nothing more you could do to busy yourself.

 Nothing more to do than close your eyes against the trick of light nearing your home.

 Still, he knocked, as though you would refuse him. You didn't answer, either way.

 "Bags?" Hardly a step through the open bedroom door, he whispered and stilled. Careful touches flitted over the straps, following the abandoned pile of clothes for the journey home beside them. His body fell with all the grace of something other, cradling your loose scarf and bringing it to his face. When his eyes closed, your heart lurched.

 "You're forcing me away again."

 His shoulders hunched. The scarf muffled him before he clutched it in a tight fist, stroking the material. "This coming morning?"

 As you intended, he flinched when you said, "I have no reason to stay."

 Cathair came closer in the dim light, and you struggled to sit up faced with his sudden decision to cross the distance. He was bare, the pale of his body tinged, bar the necklace dangling down his chest. Your scarf fell now you were within his hold. When he reached out to you, his fingers were cold on your cheek, slender and running back to lift your head.

 "I wanted you to have my bridle." Breath left you on a sharp rush, and Cathair pressed himself closer. He cradled your face and when his seemingly empty eyes found yours, he held you there. They glistened. "Before you left, it was to be yours."

 The last time you had seen him, in the thick of night and holding back a cry, he hadn't spoken. You told yourself it must have been the same pain at being apart, that he would miss you just as much, then he never reached out, never replied to letters delivered here, so you fought to move on, too.

 But looking at him now, fallen onto his knees and offering servitude, your heart broke for him. Cathair curled his fingers at your waist and clutched the thin slip when you turned, and he bowed his head to lean against your thighs.

 "I don't blame you for that night," you said quietly. His shoulders rose with a sharp breath. His raven hair had the same shimmering to it as his body when you brushed back the thin strands, careful to avoid jostling him. "I trust you. I chose to befriend you, Cathair, and you saved me when your brother-"

 "You left."

 The scar on your arm throbbed with a phantom pain at the memory of sharp teeth catching at you. No human could dismount a kelpie, and Cathair swung to help, to fight off his brother, but dislodging you would leave you helpless again in a river of kelpies unable to swim with a wound so deep. Saving you from drowning first then protecting you, he had nothing to guilt himself for.

 Then you left.

 That same night he whinnied and rose from the riverbed as you ran. He followed not far behind, tail swishing fast until he turned and left you fleeing.

 Cathair hardly reacted when you touched the thin bridle, but he lifted his head, eyes round and shadowed. "It is yours. Take it."

 "I don't need the bridle to trust you. Unless you... unless you want to leave, to live out your life in that form, then I won't take it."

 "Why?"

 "I don't want to enslave you!"

 His thin lips rose in an eerie semblance of a smile. "Why do you trust me?"

 "Cathair," you whispered, and it was you reaching to frame his cold face, brushing your thumbs beneath his eyes. His lips turned to your wrist. "Why wouldn't I? I've loved you my whole life, and you've never once abused my trust. You've never once hurt me, tried to drown me or eat me-"

 His teeth nicked at your wrist, though he was fast to kiss the soft skin again, a warmth in his voice when he spoke. "I could."

 "You could. Do you want to?"

 His body rose, leaning on his knees with large hands gentle on your thighs, before pressing his lips to yours. Tenderly, without moving for a breath when you held still, desperately trying to hold yourself back from scaring him away.

 Cathair fell back with a soft thud. The brush of his hands upwards made you soften, but you mistook it for a way to hold you, not the question it was when his thumbs dipped and pressed your legs to part. He bowed low and brought his lips to your inner thigh, drawing in slow, steady breaths, before his lips softened on the thin fabric barring him from your body.

 "Do you trust me?"

 "With my life."

 "I want to taste you."

 With his touch guiding you, Cathair laid a warming hand to your stomach. He ushered you back, fingers tugging at your underwear until you were bare, your slip thrown away.

 He trembled and lifted your thighs up to his shoulders, breathing deep, and the first kiss was experimental. He watched you tighten, your legs coming to press at his head until he returned low, guiding his hot kisses down before letting his tongue slip against you, and you cried his name. As you gasped now, it came different to when you spoke to him in the woods, with such power he himself groaned, and when he tasted you again, ran his nose up to nudge against your flushed nerves.

 "You taste divine."

 Rougher breaths flushed against your bare heat, awakening the heat molten in your navel. Like he knew, Cathair looked up, holding your desperate stare before his lips came around your flushing clit. Your hips bucked and he sucked, drawing a rough cry from your throat.

 "That's it," he murmured. "Let me have you on my tongue."

 Too flustered, too lost in the gentle touches, his hand running up your stomach to run against your breast made you arch into him. Cathair's soft laugh made you keen, his fingers teasing your nipple and rolling it beneath his thumb. The other hand, though it slipped your attention, too, began to stroke low, and his middle finger curled itself to the knuckle. Each crook of it had your stomach flipping, and he eased another, stroking against your tight walls until you whimpered.

 "Please- I'm close-"

 "I know, love," he whispered, and his fingers pressed you wide for his thick tongue to dip up, to taste you there. Tension tangled heavy in your stomach and he curled his fingers once more, the cold touch of a chain against your thigh a stark difference to how hot his breaths were, lapping with fire. "Show me how much you love me," he murmured, and his lips caught your bud of nerves as you screamed his name and your vision blurred. His sharp teeth grazed where you were most sensitive before chasing your release, kissing up your thighs and still moving his fingers in a way that had you unable to breathe properly. Cathair settled back and with your eyes on him, brought his slick fingers to his mouth, groaning. "You taste like heaven."

 You fell back with a heavy head, and he came to lay by your side, soft lips to yours. The taste of you was thick on his tongue, and he laid over you with a hand smoothing back down your stomach. He held you close, his own body hot and pressing into yours.

 "I want to stay," you whispered, and reached to bring him impossibly closer. "I want to stay here and be with you again."

 Cathair's small smile warmed your heart. As you both curled back against the bed, the kelpie lost in touching your smooth skin, he took your lips again and promised, "I'll always stay with you."

[junghelioseok]

covenant.

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

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

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

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

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

It’s going to rain.

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

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

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

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

“Hey. You made it.”

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

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

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

“Thanks.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nod. “I should go.”

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

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

“Will I see you later?”

“Without a doubt.”

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

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

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

///

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

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

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

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

“So. How’s Hoseok holding up?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He grins. “I don’t doubt it.”

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

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

Jin nods. “See you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hoseok sighs. “No.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Perturbed, you blink. “What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Perhaps foolishly, you chose not to pry.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jin came by today,” you murmur.

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

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

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

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

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

I know, you sigh.

I know.

///

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Shut up, Bast.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

If you can? Bast snipes. Curse her.

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

If you won’t, I will.

You’ll do no such thing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

///

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Afraid so,” he answers honestly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

///

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

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

“Can’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“I was duly warned,” Jin agrees.

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

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

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

///

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What do you want, Hobi?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ah.”

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

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

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

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

“Really.”

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

“Do you have to head back?”

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

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

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

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

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

///

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hello, {Name}.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, just now.”

“I see.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

///

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What is it?

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

What do you need?

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

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

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

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

She nods nervously. “Of course.”

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

Ready, Bast confirms. Be careful.

I will.

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

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

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

It will, you hiss. It has to.

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

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

And then you step through.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No!”

You jump, startled at the volume of his shout.

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

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

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

For the second time that afternoon, only one word springs to mind. “Why?”

Hoseok groans again. “Because I’m weak,” he mutters hoarsely. “Because I’m weak, and I’m not thinking straight, and if you come any closer to me, I won’t be able to stop myself from pinning you against that wall right there and having my way with you.”

Your breath hitches in your throat. The rippling energy in the air is almost oppressive in its strength, and only grows when Hoseok’s gaze finally lands on you, his pupils blown out and blacker than the night.

“Go,” he entreaties, dragging a frazzled hand through his hair. “Please, {Name}.”

You suck in a deep breath, your lungs swelling and expanding with the newfound oxygen. Then, ever so slowly, you let your gaze flicker up to meet his. “What if I don’t want to?”

Hoseok freezes. Time comes to a standstill, and even the overwhelming energy emanating from him seems to falter. The room is near silent, broken only by your companion’s ragged breathing, his chest heaving beneath the thin white fabric of his shirt. Even from across the room, you can see the sheen of sweat coating his honeyed skin, shining in the light of the setting sun.

“You don’t mean that,” he says at last. “You can’t mean that.”

“I can,” you whisper. “And I do.”

For three agonizingly long seconds, Hoseok remains rooted firmly in place, his throat bobbing harshly. Then, before you can even blink, he’s striding forward—a blur of motion almost too quick for your eyes to follow. He comes to a stop a hair’s breadth from you, one hand reaching up to cup your face delicately, as if you’re made of glass.

“You,” he rasps, “have no idea what you’ve just done.” His thumb traces the swell of your cheek just below your eye, the motion surprisingly tender. Your heart stutters in your chest.

And then he leans down and crushes his mouth to yours.

The rest of the world falls away, dissolving into nothing. Your eyes flutter shut as Hoseok’s hands slide down your sides to curl around your hips, your body melting against his taut frame. He is all you can feel and all you can taste, and you keen helplessly when he grinds against you, his cock hot and hard against your stomach.

The sound seems to awaken something in Hoseok, a cavernous groan erupting from his throat. Pulling away from your mouth, he descends upon the delicate skin of your neck, teeth and tongue blossoming bruises in their wake. Shaky hands find the collar of your shirt, questioning eyes seeking out yours for permission that you happily give. He tugs the garment off almost delicately, his ravenous gaze roving across each bit of newly revealed flesh, and once it’s freed from your head he tosses it aside and sets about doing the same to the rest of your clothing.

Maybe it should feel odd, watching through lidded eyes as Hoseok drops to his knees to pull your jeans down and off your ankles. Maybe you should feel embarrassed, seeing your best friend bury his nose between your legs, delirious bliss etching across his features as he inhales, his strong fingers curling around your thighs to spread you wider. But instead, it feels completely and utterly natural—as if this was always meant to be.

“You smell divine,” Hoseok breathes, slotting himself between your spread thighs and running a fingertip along your lace-covered slit, collecting the considerable slick there and bringing it to his nose. “Fuck, {Name}. Just one whiff, and I can tell that you’re primed and ready for me.”

“Take me, then,” you breathe back shakily, rolling your hips when he slips past the lacy barrier of your panties to find your clit, circling around the sensitive nub until you’re gasping his name.

Hoseok’s gaze darkens to obsidian, his pupils swallowing up the amber-flecked brown of his irises. In one smooth motion, he’s on his feet again, straightening up to his full height as his hands find purchase on your hips. He twirls you around until you’re facing the wall, your palms pressed flat against the woven tapestry hanging there.

“Gorgeous.” A single word, laced with unmistakable awe. Then he’s fumbling with his belt buckle, the metallic clink and tug of a zipper reaching your ears, before he presses against you, clothed chest molding against your bare back. Even through the thin layer of fabric, you can feel the sweltering heat emanating from him, his sweat soaking through the cotton and sticking to your skin. His mouth finds its way to the junction of your neck and shoulder again—teasing at the flesh until you’re quivering—before he begins laying a trail of hot kisses down your spine.

“Wanna fuck you,” Hoseok rasps, tearing your panties away once his lips reach the waistband, the flimsy lace ripped to shreds in his desperate grip. “Want you on your front, want you on your back, want you on my tongue—” His voice drops, rumbling through his chest and sending shivers through your entire body. “Want you. Wanted you for so long.”

And as if to reinforce his words, the velvety head of his cock nestles against the cleft of your backside, hot and slick.

Wordlessly, you arch your back, presenting him with the tempting swell of your rear. A glance over your shoulder reveals the strained clench of his jaw and the bob of his throat, his biceps tensed and his gaze unwavering. His control is undoubtedly dangling by a single thread at this point—a delicate, gossamer thread that’s on the verge of snapping. The delirium of his heat is overtaking his senses, his grip tightening on your hips, and ever so slowly, he begins to press forward until the tip of his thick cock is just beginning to part your walls. Already, the fit borders on excruciating, and your body tenses at the intrusion, stretched to the limit around his thick girth.

Hoseok exhales shakily, his primal instincts warring with his desire to ensure your comfort. Soft lips drop kiss after kiss onto your bare shoulders, your back, your neck—wherever he can reach as he whispers tender praises into your skin. “Breathe, princess,” he encourages lowly. “You can take it—I know you can. You were made for me.”

Obediently, you inhale, focusing on the way your lungs expand and contract as you draw air into them. The pain ebbs away with each breath you take, until all that is left is a low throb of pleasure. Your hips rock back against him, and Hoseok takes it as a sign to push forward once more, parting your walls until he’s fully seated inside you, your body stretched to the limit as you mold around him.

There’s no pain now—only an aching desire for more, more, more. He’s deep enough to reach parts of you that you’ve never been able to explore before—either alone or with other partners—and you moan brokenly when he rolls his hips experimentally. “More, Hoseok,” you whimper. “Please.”

He obliges. One thrust leads into another, the punishing pace he sets fueled by his heady desperation for relief. The full, heavy weight of his cock dragging along your walls ignites every nerve ending in your body, sizzling electricity blazing through your veins. It’s all you can do to plant your palms flat against the tapestried wall, fingers twitching at the woven fabric as Hoseok grabs your hips with enough force to bruise and pulls you back against him in time with his thrusts.

“Look at you,” he says hoarsely. “Love the way you feel, clenching around me like that. My perfect, pretty girl, taking my cock so well. I always knew you were made for me.” He grunts, forehead falling against your back, damp hair matting against your skin as he continues rutting against you. “Always—fuck—knew you were my mate.”

The particularly harsh thrust that follows his raspy declaration sends all coherent thought flying out of your head, taking your surprise along with it. All you can manage is a shuddery whine that vaguely resembles his name, the sound intermingling with the obscene smack of flesh against flesh and the continuous stream of praises Hoseok whispers into your skin.

There’s something building inside you—a dull, throbbing pressure at the point where your body joins with his. He’s still rolling up into you, but each subsequent thrust grows more and more shallow. The realization dawns on your dazed mind all at once, as you feel the growing swell at the base of his cock. Hoseok is rendered near immobile as he finally reaches his high, the entirety of his length sheathed firmly inside your pussy as he spills ropes of white against your fluttering walls. The swelling continues, filling you until you feel fit to burst.

“H-Hoseok,” you gasp. “I can’t. I can’t—you’re going to rip me in half.”

Soothing hands smooth along your sides, warm lips littering kisses onto your bare shoulders. “You can,” he murmurs tenderly. “You were made for me, and I for you. You can take it, princess. I know you can.”

The gentle repetition of his fingertips trailing nonsensical patterns into your skin eases your labored panting somewhat. Beneath his touch, you slowly relax, the pressure in your abdomen abating as his knot begins to subside.

“You did so well.” His voice is no more than a mumble, almost lost in the sweat and slick coating your skin.

You sag against the wall, taking a few moments to catch your breath before slowly easing off of him, the sudden loss leaving your core empty and aching. Gingerly, you turn around to face him, acutely aware of the way your combined juices immediately begin dribbling down your thighs.

“You said I was your mate,” you whisper, almost afraid that the sentiment will disappear if voiced aloud. “Did… did you mean that?”

“Every word,” Hoseok replies, equally soft. “Is that okay?”

A smile blooms across your face. Rising up to your tiptoes, you kiss him again—a soft, reassuring peck that he immediately leans into, seeking out your touch like a flower in the sun. “More than okay,” you breathe, feeling the way his lips stretch upward against yours. “I’m glad, Hobi.”

Hoseok sighs into your mouth, a slow smile settling across his features. “Now it’s your turn,” he says, and in an instant, he’s swept you off your feet, one arm beneath your bent knees and the other around your back. “And I’m planning to take my time with you, princess. You’re not leaving here until I say so.”

You wrap your arms around his neck, crossing your hands at his nape. “Fine by me,” you tell him, earning yourself a wide grin. His lips seek out yours again as he carries you down the darkened hallway and into the shadowy depths of his bedroom, pausing only to nudge the lightswitch on with his elbow. Golden light suffuses the room as he steps forward to lay you on his bed, your back sinking into the plush mattress and dipping further when he joins you. He hovers over you with an arm on either side of your head, and you reach up to trace the vein that lines his biceps with a gentle fingertip, giggling when he gives your bottom lip a punishing nip.

The kiss deepens from there. Hoseok parts your lips and seeks out your tongue with his own, subduing it into compliance. By the time you pull apart, all the oxygen has left your lungs, leaving you flushed and gasping. Hoseok chortles breathlessly and trails down to press a kiss to your navel, before traveling downward until he’s reached your clit. Gently, he wraps his lips around the sensitive nub, rumbling with laughter when you buck against him.

“So needy,” he murmurs. To your displeasure, he straightens back up to kneel between your spread thighs, but your complaint quickly dissolves into thin air when he edges forward until his knee is pressed against your aching clit. Desperate for more friction, you grind against him, your wetness soaking through his jeans in a matter of seconds.

It doesn’t take long for pressure to build up in your belly again, winding tight as a coiled spring. Hoseok is staring down at you, transfixed, and his undivided attention only serves to bring you closer to the edge, teetering on the very brink.

“Look at you.” His voice could almost be described as a purr, if he weren’t so utterly canine in mannerisms and appearance. “Such a greedy little thing, all desperate to get off. You’re making a mess of my new jeans, princess.”

You’re too far gone to care about the teasing lilt that colors his tone. The edge is rapidly approaching, and one last roll of your hips is enough to send you over, your walls convulsing around nothing as you ride out your high.

Hoseok doesn’t wait. In an instant, he’s back between your legs, having moved so quickly you didn’t even see when he’d started or stopped. His tongue darts out to lave at your folds, a growl rumbling through his chest when your hips jump on instinct. Immediately, he tightens his grip, strong arms winding around your thighs and anchoring at your waist to render you helpless in his grasp, only able to take what he sees fit to give.

“How is it that you taste even better than you smell?” Hoseok muses as he leans down to suck your clit into his mouth, lips curling up into a pleased smirk when you gasp out his name. “Cute,” he says, releasing the nub in favor of descending to your drenched entrance instead, flicking his tongue shallowly inside before withdrawing with a chuckle.

“Hoseok—” you begin, only to dissolve into a moan when he sheaths two fingers inside you without any warning, curling them up and in until you’re shaking in his grasp.

“Come for me,” he commands softly. “Go on, let me hear you.”

And you do, chanting his name like a mantra as a wave of pleasure overtakes you. Hoseok’s thumb circles your clit in just the right way to prolong your orgasm, and it isn’t until you’re cringing from overstimulation that he finally relents, descending down to mold his mouth to yours in a searing kiss. His lips part yours, tongue dipping out to explore as he sheds his shirt and shucks off his ruined jeans. His skin, when he presses against you, burns hot as a furnace wherever it touches. Against your stomach, his cock stirs back to life.

He’s gentler this time. Every movement is slow and deliberate and tender as he breaches you, murmuring your name reverentially as he fills you again. Your body bows to his willingly, stretching to accommodate him, and the spike of pleasure that lances through you when he bottoms out is almost enough to send your oversensitive body over the edge again, your walls fluttering around him.

There’s an unmistakable shift in the air when Hoseok starts up a slow rhythm, leaning down to kiss you again. His lips move against yours, soft and tender, before moving past your jugular and down to the crook of your neck, elongated canines scraping against the delicate skin in a silent question. You wind your arms around his neck and nod, giving him his answer. There’s no need for words.

And then his teeth are sinking into the spot he’s so lovingly scoped out, breaking the skin. Your body collapses into a searing orgasm, and the pleasure intermingles with the pain of the bite until you are delirious, rendered boneless in his grasp. Hoseok’s hips stutter, his pace growing erratic as he soothes the wound over with his tongue.

You’re prepared for the swelling this time, but the fullness still manages to knock all the air out of your lungs, bordering on painful as his knot grows. Hoseok quells your whimpers with tender kisses, the instinct to comfort his mate paramount even as he paints your walls with ropes of creamy white. He traces a path from your lips down to where he’s marked and claimed you as his, imbuing your skin with a litany of praises that warm you from the inside out.

“My mate,” he murmurs, reverent. “Finally.”

You lean into his touch with a tired smile. “Finally? How long have you wanted this?”

His lips curl into a smile against your clavicle. “Ages. If I’m honest, I think I fell in love with you the day you set my tail on fire when we were kids. It’s always been you, {Name}. Only you.”

You can’t help it—you need to hear it from his mouth again. “You love me?”

Hoseok chuckles. “Of course I do. My tricky little minx—my perfect, pretty mate. I love you more than anything.” One hand reaches up to caress your cheek, running along the tender skin beneath your eye before cupping the back of your head so he can mold his mouth to yours. “Love you more than I can even explain,” he breathes, punctuating each word with a kiss. His hands blaze trails down the slopes of your body until he finally anchors below the crook of your legs. “So why don’t you let me show you instead?”

And he does. Over and over that night, and in the two days of his heat that follow, he shows you exactly how he feels. Propriety is forgotten, left by the wayside with his scorned fiancé and marriage. He is yours, and you are his.

Consequences be damned.

⇢ aftermath.

also set in this universe:

[myg]

[katsukisbimbo]

bun bun

✯ pairing: usagiyama rumi x reader

✯ synopsis: everything changed for you when your favourite hero, usagiyama gets thrown inside your shop.

✯wordcount: 12.4k+

✯warning: fem! reader, she/her pronouns, wlw, swearing :))

✯ note: this is dedicated for lovely andrea <3 aka ms @kagsbuns !! I think I got carried away tho. this was only supposed to be 10k max, but at 9k I still didn’t get to the conflict so here we are LOL. I hope u guys enjoy!! this is my first time writing something so long!

You sighed as you used you picked up the heavy basket of apples. Your day usually consisted of tending to your growing vegetables in the early morning, before picking and washing the ripened vegetables and fruit. Using some fresh peppers from your garden to spice up your usual omelette for breakfast, then getting ready for work. 

You currently owned a cute little produce market in the middle of the city, which was only a twenty-minute walk from your home. Your small shop was mostly frequented by old folks and young moms buying fruits and veggies for their children.

 You loved your work and your life, tending to vegetables and fruits and selling them. Your work helped you produce a schedule, a schedule that kept you sane. 

You smiled as Ms. Takeshi walked in, smiling at you before browsing through her favourite strawberries that you had just picked and washed this morning. “Good morning lovely! Your fruits and vegetables look wonderful today! Did you also make some of my favourite banana bread?” She queried as she made her way to the display case where you kept your freshly made pastries. 

“Of course Ms. Takeshi! I already wrapped it up for you!” you handed the bag over to her. “You’re going to be a great wife one day lovely” She smiles as she leaves the door, leaving you with a sour taste in your mouth. Your smile dropped as you activated your quirk. You had a plant quirk, pretty convenient for your work. You were able to manipulate plants and grow them to your will.

Large vines soon began to rise from your potted plants as you started to organize some of your products, not liking how they looked. You rolled your eyes as you recalled what Ms. Takeshi had said to you. Every morning was the same thing with her. Some days she would even try to set you up with her grandson. Yes, you were only 19, turning 20, but you already had everything you wanted. Plus, you didn’t play for the other team. 

You were more of a “We fell in love in October” kinda gal. 

Your thoughts were swiftly interrupted at the sound of a body getting thrown inside your shop, soon landing right in front of you. It took you two seconds to register that a body just flew into your shop and ruined your blueberries, and another two seconds to figure out that this body belonged to the Rabbit Hero: Mirko herself. You gasped softly as you pried her body out of the rubble with your vines. 

You propped her up onto your counter before wrapping your vines around her once more, with the purpose to heal her bruised body. You concentrated your power as you continued to heal her, your vines sprouting flowers and glowing with a light yellow hue. 

You had to restrain yourself from cooing when you saw her nose twitch. It wasn’t known that you were fond of heroes. Everyone had assumed that you had no interest in it, when in fact, you’ve been a huge fan of Mirko’s for some time. You did have other heroes you liked, but Mirko had your attention and heart. 

You struggled to breathe as you felt your energy being sapped out of your body. You didn’t know how much longer you would be able to take, especially when you had only used your quirk for meagre housework, up until now that is. You suddenly jolted in surprise when Mirko’s arm shot up and grabbed you by the collar of your shirt, bringing your face barely ten centimetres away from hers. 

As her mouth opened to speak, another crash occurred nearby, making both of your heads snap up in the direction of the noise. You gaped as you saw the wrongdoer slowly walk towards your shop. “Mirko-san, please get up” you shakily whispered to her. 

She laughed at your cute shivering figure before jumping up on top of the counter. “Come at me bitch!” she provoked before they hastily jumped her. You quickly threw yourself out of the way and hid behind your apples. “Hey! Baby carrot!” she hollered as she pinned down the villain. “Get out of here!” Rumi growled. You immediately shook your head, small tears sliding doing your cheeks. 

“I-I can’t! I’m not gonna let either of you mess up my shop!” you weakly yelled as you somehow mustered up enough strength to summon your largest vines, speedily sending them towards the villain and entrapping them, leaving Mirko to gape at your work. She whistled as she observed the vines twining around the body of the unfortunate villain. ‘T-That’s kinda hot, not gonna lie’ she thought in her head before successfully knocking the villain out with one kick. 

“Hey, you okay there?” she questioned as she looked at your trembling figure. You felt unable to respond to her query, your throat suddenly closed up. You let out a squeak in response before feeling your knees buckle, your body quickly tumbling to the ground. Before you could even graze the wooden floor, Miruko already had her arms wrapped around you, carrying your unconscious body princess style, your face nuzzled onto the top of her breast. 

“My poor bunny” she cooed before wiping the sweat off your brow, taking you to the closest ambulance to get the both of you checked out. 

___

You groaned as the exhaustion started to seep into your body. Your head was killing you. You peeled your eyes open, expecting to see your room, only to see a blindingly white hospital room. A few machines monitoring your blood pressure and heart rate had been situated by your side, along with your IV drip which was currently connected to your left arm. 

“I see you’re up” voice booms, making their presence known. 

You turned to see Mirko, sitting on the couch, clad in civilian clothing. You blushed as her outfit consisted of a black leather jacket, accompanied by tight black jeans, a white v-neck shirt, and chunky leather shoes. To sum it all up, she looked delectable. You felt your cheeks warm at the sight of your hero crush. What was she doing here in the first place? Wasn't she supposed to be on patrol or something? What was she doing, wasting her time on a girl like yourself?

You cleared your throat before piping up. “W-why’re you here?” you questioned before quickly averting your gaze. 

“You saved my life, my little carrot” She started, standing up and making her way towards your bed. You felt yourself slightly flinch back, intimidated by both her figure and her aura. Mirko had an intense vibe that made you want to crawl into a hole and die. The way she carried herself was both overwhelming and admirable. She was just so captivating, it was like-

“Hey. Hey!” she snapped her fingers in your face. “What’s wrong carrot? Are you nervous? Last time I saw you, you were brimming with complete and utter confidence. Well, kinda, but you were still badass. Are you a badass or was that just a facade to impress lil ol’ me? Hm?” she teases, her face nearing yours. 

“I-I no! I mean y-yes! Um!” you felt yourself about to tear up from embarrassment. You were humiliating yourself in front of your favourite hero. You sputtered once more before deciding to just shut your mouth, staring at your lap where your hands were neatly folded. 

“What’s wrong carrot? Do I make you nervous?” she taunted. 

God, now you wanted to cry. 

 You felt your tears starting to arise, your throat closing up. Your lips were quivering. You tense your jaw to prevent any whimpers from slipping out, you didn’t want to embarrass yourself any further. Mirko's eyes almost bulged out of their sockets. She made her poor carrot cry! 

She immediately took your hands off of your lap, bringing one of your hands to rest against her soft cheek. She then gave your palm a soft kiss. “Don’t cry! I didn’t mean to tease ya that much!”. You just nodded as you felt yourself become light-headed at her actions. The Pro-Hero Mirko just kissed your palm. She just kissed your palm. You didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. 

You were unaware of how to act in front of her as you didn’t want to make a fool of yourself any further than today. You would always remember the time you embarrassed yourself in front of your hero crush. 

“What happened by the way? Why am I here?” you piped up, taking the time to admire her bright and shining face. 

“Well, I accidentally got thrown into your shop and got knocked out. You used your little vines to help me out! I passed out a little, but the villain came, and I tried to fight him, but before I could do some real damage, you stepped in and told us that you weren’t about to let us ruin your shop and apprehended the villain by yourself! I didn’t know you had it in ya! I was so surprised but I managed to knock out the fella! You also ended up passing out dear! I had to catch ya and carry you to the ambulance myself!” She grinned, playing with your fingertips. 

“I’m so sorry“ you cried, gripping tightly onto her fingers. “I didn’t mean to make your job harder for you! I‘m only nineteen and I don’t have enough money to repair any of the damages! Are there even damages? For sure there are!” you were about to cry again. Everything was just so overwhelming that your first reaction was to cry. 

You’ve only met Mirko and you’ve managed to embarrass yourself three times. 

“Don’t worry about it, carrot. I already took care of the damages, because I was the one who got thrown into your shop. Don’t worry about being a crybaby either. It’s cute” she gave you her signature toothy grin. 

“I-Thank you! Thank you so much Mirko-san!” You cried, bowing as low as you could in your state. 

“Don’t worry about it” she brushed off. 

“Please! I have to repay you somehow! I can give you a free produce? I can make your bread? I can't offer much” your brows furrowing. You wanted to repay her. 

“Yeah? I’ll think of something, cutie. Anyways, I gotta run, I’ll see you around yeah?” She quipped before making her way out of her room, giving you one last smile before exiting. 

You had it bad for her. For sure. 

___

It’s been a week since you were discharged from the hospital, you didn’t have any fatal wounds but was only admitted for overusing your quirk, you didn’t use your quirk for anything as exhausting as apprehending a criminal. 

You sighed as you continued to tend to your vegetables, already missing a certain someone’s presence. Meeting with her, even for such a short time was an experience. 

You clicked your tongue as you checked the time, you only had half an hour to make your way to work and set up your produce. 

You wondered if you would be able to see her again. 

You continued to bustle around, seeing Ms. Takeshi rushing inside. “Oh my goodness! Are you all right lovely? I heard about the attack! Thank goodness you’re okay!” she continued to check your body for any bruises or wounds, sighing in relief when she found none. 

“I’m fine Ms. Takeshi! I wasn’t attacked, a Pro got thrown into my shop.. and she saved me” your mind drifted to the memory of Mirko lunging at the criminal, putting her body in front of yours to shield you from any attacks. 

“She saved me” quipped up a voice. 

Both you and Ms. Takeshi had whipped your head around, seeing Mirko, clad in her hero costume with her hand on her hip. She smirked at your bewildered reaction before moving further into the store. 

“M-Mirko-san! What’re you doing here?”

“I don’t know, to be honest, I was in the area and I just missed your face” she walked around, admiring the large carrots you had grown in your garden. 

“Y-you missed me? I-I missed you too, M-Mirko-san..” you blushed, averting her piercing gaze. “You’re such a precious carrot, call me Rumi” she offered, stretching her hand out to yours in a handshake, you hesitantly took it, noting how her hand dwarfs yours. 

“I couldn’t possibly!” releasing her hand. “Why not? We’re friends aren't we?” your eyes widened at her implication that you two had something more than just a fan and idol relationship.  

“I-I YES! Of course, we are!” you rushed, not wanting to upset her. If she was willing to call you her friend then who were you to disagree? Not everyone has the chance to be friends with their favourite idol. 

Ms. Takeshi smirked as she watched the exchange between the two, noting how each of them had quite a fond look in their eyes. She shook her head as she signalled you that she was about to leave, you gave her a hasty goodbye before going back to Mirko-- or Rumi, as she preferred. 

‘Those two are getting together’ Ms. Takeshi absently thought, smiling at the thought of you finally having the companion you deserved.

“This is a cute place ya got here, it's almost as cute as you” she flirted, smirking at your abashed expression. Normally you would have cringed at such a cheesy line, but to be honest, it hit a little different when it was Rumi who was saying it. “I’m not cute!” you huffed. You were a strong independent woman! You were not cute. 

As you continued to stew in your thoughts, Rumi proceeded with exploring your cute little shop, sampling some fruits as she passed by. “D’ya have any family here?” she queried, popping a plump, red strawberry in her mouth, almost gasping at the sweetness and freshness of the berry. “I don’t actually! I moved here just a year ago to start the shop I've been dreaming about ever since I was a kid!” you smiled, recalling the obstacles you had gone through to reach your goal. 

“That's good! It’s good to have goals you want to work towards, it keeps people motivated” 

“How about you Rumi-san? Do you have any family here?” you piped up, curious of her families’ whereabouts. Did she live here alone? There was only so much information that could be disclosed to the public about heroes and their personal lives. 

“They don’t live here. They’re back in my hometown. It’s nice living out here, I get to do what I want, save all the people I can, and kick as much as... Though, there are times where I miss my family... They’re a rambunctious and chaotic bunch I tell ya!” she chortled. 

You felt yourself melt at the very thought of Rumi with her family, playing and spending time with her small cousins/siblings. If someone were to describe the look on your face, they would have immediately said that you looked either lovesick or had heart eyes. You blushed at the thought of spending time with Rumi and just being gay <3 with each other. You honestly needed to get a love life, it isn’t normal to fantasize about your idol, especially when they’re right in front of you. 

Rumi noticed that you were mentally elsewhere, smiling at your dumbstruck expression. What were you thinking about that was more interesting than her? Was it perhaps Rumi herself? She shook her head, trying to disperse her somewhat indecent thoughts. It wasn’t proper to ogle or fantasize about your friend. 

“Hey, can I get your number?” she piped up, causing you to snap out of the internal conflict you were previously having about yourself. “W-what?” you stuttered, unbelieving of the fact that she, Usagiyama Rumi, had just asked for your number. Plain, old, little you! This was an absolute dream. 

You quickly nodded, having no words as you haven’t fully processed her question or the meaning of it. You struggled to extract your phone from the pocket of your overalls. Curse women's clothing and their tiny pockets! Rumi laughed at your struggles, loving at how you scrunch your cute little nose when you feel feelings of frustration. 

 “Aha! I got it!” you cheered, fist-pumping with your phone in your hand, before sheepishly handing your phone to her. Rumi raised a brow. “Is this me as your lock screen?” she smirked. 

At this point, you were begging the Gods, any God, to take your soul. You did not understand how you could have forgotten such a crucial thing! You were an idiot! A dumbass! 

“And, did you edit yourself in the picture so it looked like we took a picture together?” 

 You felt your brain short circuit. You froze up, unblinking and unbreathing. Rumi didn’t mean to tease you so much. You were just adorable! The fact that you had been too shy to ask her for a picture and kept the edited one as your lock screen amused her to no end. She just wanted to eat you up!

As she continued to gush about your cute habits and you in general, you were tearing yourself up inside. You thought you had changed your lock screen a few days ago! It was a picture of Rumi as well, but you weren’t included. She must think you’re desperate! Or a stalker. Or worse! A desperate stalker! 

“Lord, please take me” you whispered, hoping that someone would grant your wish this time. “What was that baby carrot? You want me to take you? I don’t mind, but I wanna get to know you better first”

Your jaw dropped at Rumi’s insinuation. “I’m kidding! You're adorable. C’mere” she beckoned, not wanting to keep her waiting you immediately made your way towards her side, her muscular arm scooping you up and pressing you against her warm body. 

“R-Rumi-san..! What are you doing?”

“Taking a picture ya dummy! Make this your lock screen okay? I want everyone to know” she winked. She pressed her face against yours before capturing a picture. You felt as if your face was on fire. She was smashed against you! “Hey, you okay with fanservice?” she asked, you nodded your head, curious of what she had under her sleeve. 

Rumi soon grabbed a hold of your chin before pressing her soft lips against the chub of your cheeks. She quickly snapped the picture, capturing your embarrassed face. She let go of you, opting to check the pictures to see if they had come outright. “You want one more baby carrot?” she mused, peering at your warmed face. 

You slowly nodded your head, she threw her head back and laughed, coming over once more and wrapping you in her arms. This time, she walked, well, more like waddled, as you were in her arms, to put your phone on the counter, setting the timer for three seconds. She hugged you tightly, resting her head on top of yours. 

Since she was already taking pictures, might as well request some poses right?

“Can we do peace signs? I… I like peace signs” you mumbled, twiddling with your thumbs. “Oh gosh, you're adorable!” she gushed. “Peace!” the both of you posed as the flash went off. 

You ran back to your phone, eager to see how the pictures had turned out while Rumi had stayed behind, watching your excited figure. Your eyes lit up as you examined the photos you both had taken. They were adorable! “Rumi-san looks very pretty” you mumbled, unaware that she was now peering over your shoulder and heard what you had said. 

“You gotta stop tempting me, baby carrot. As I said, I wanna get to know you better” she smiled. You blushed. This was the second time she had mentioned that. Does she like you as well? You felt a little bold so you decided to take your opportunity to fluster her as well. 

“If you wanna get to know me better, why not go to lunch with me?” you offered, slyly smiling at how her jaw was left ajar. “Y-You cheeky little brat! If you're free right now we can go but it’ll be my treat okay?” she insisted, raising her brow as if to say ‘are you going to say no to free food’. 

You nodded and agreed, who were you to say no to free food? Especially free food with your favourite hero/crush. She extended her hand towards you and you gladly took it, lacing your fingers with hers, loving how both of your hands fit perfectly within each other. 

“Let’s go baby carrot. I’ll make sure to feed you lots” 

___

“Nooo-- Rumi no more!”

“It’s okay carrot, I know you want more” she smirked

“I can’t! I-It’s too much” you moaned, rubbing your bloated stomach with both of your hands. Both of you had eaten too much chicken! Rumi decided to challenge you to an eating challenge, ordering a whole 10 piece box for each of you. That, plus the drinks and fries she had ordered on the side. 

“Awh you’re so cute, for sure you’ll be sleepy” she cooed, propping her chin upon her fist. “I’m thankful for you Rumi-san, but if I eat more, I’ll surely explode” you cried, wanting to just go home and nap. You closed your eyes and leaned back. You couldn’t even breathe properly anymore! She was going to stuff you full! [;)]

“Hye, carrot. I gotta ask since I want both of us to be on the same page. Was this a date? I mean, would you consider this a date?” she sheepishly asked, bringing warmth to your cheeks. You didn't perceive this as a date, since you two never really outright stated it was a date, but it did seem date-ish. 

Rumi watched as you struggled to come up with an answer. “Ah! I didn’t mean to pressure you carrot! I’m sorry! I-I just really like you, and if you didn’t consider this as a date, I would like to take you out--that's only if you agree! As I said, no pressure cutie”

What was she talking about? This was so much pressure! On the bright side, your crush likes you back. This was a miracle! She was famous on top of that1 not that you liked her for her popularity, but she could have anyone, and she chose you! You had to thank which God was looking out for you, or if it was just your luck. Either way, you’ve been manifesting this for some time. Not exactly this situation, but you had actively been looking for a partner, a female partner at that. You didn’t want anything serious, shoutout to Ms. Takeshi though, she was trying at least. 

“I like you Rumi-san and I considered this as a date! And.. and I want to go on more dates with you!” you nearly yelled, causing some heads to turn. This had caused Rumi to gasp, scrambling out of her chair to sit beside you and engulf you in her arms, nuzzling her soft cheek against yours. 

“You’re so cute! I swear! Let me take you home! I just wanna eat you!” she gushed, uncaring of the peering eyes in the restaurant who had been watching the whole exchange. “R-Rumi-san! How lewd!” you grimaced. sure was a handful. 

“I’m sorry, cutie! I just can’t help it! You make me wanna go feral” she growled the last bit, feeling a coil in your lower tummy tighten. What was she doing to you? Did someone hit you with a quirk? This was crazy! 

“Hey, don’t think too much about it. You and I are going to get to know each other better okay? Okay, carrot?” She grinned, peeking down at your flustered expression. This was going to be something else. 

___

Lately, you and Rumi have gotten closer. You both had started to frequently text and call each other, though you have been a little timid during phone calls. They were mostly carried by Rumi and her extroverted personality. You hope she knew that you were just shy and that you weren’t losing interest in her. 

Your relationship with Rumi had no label, at least for now. You both decided that it would be wise to learn about each other before making rash decisions. Especially you. You had a habit of running off in tandem and making yourself worry about scenarios that have zero percent of happening. Good thing Rumi was there to calm your nerves.

You were so immersed in your thoughts that you had failed to notice the stop sign in front of you, promptly running into it and talking on your butt. Luckily, nobody except a small child had seen you embarrass yourself. That’s what you thought at least, until—

“Baby carrot! Are you alright?! My poor little carrot didn’t see the stop sign! Are you okay? Do you need to be taken to the hospital? I can take you!” She rambled as she checked your body for any extensive injuries, sliding her hands down the curve of your ass in the process. You didn’t wanna go to the hospital as you would be an unnecessary burden to all the medical staff. It was still better to be safe than sorry. 

She was a different breed. 

“I can’t help it, I just.. I care about you” she murmured, facing off to the side to hide her warming cheeks from your view. She was adorable! Is this what she felt when she saw you blush? It was a nice feeling. Like eating really good food. Rumi blushing was good food. 

“Well, um, if you don't wanna go to the hospital, do you just want to come over for dinner or something?” she offered. “Aren’t you patrolling right now Rumi-san? I would hate to impose and possibly get you in trouble with your work” you sheepishly looked away from her gaze, unable to compete with the intensity her eyes hold, as if she wasn't a quivering little mess two seconds ago as well. 

“Nah. I can get someone to cover for me. Let me call them right now so that I can put your mind at ease yeah?” she detached herself from you and went to grab her phone strapped on the side of her somewhat revealing hero costume. You never really noticed it but Rumi’s costume was, how do you say this, very sexy. At least to you. 

You shook your head as dirty thoughts soon started to fill your head. This was wrong! Rumi-san is a strong beautiful woman who shouldn’t be objectified! She does not deserve that! Though she looked very beautiful in it, that was for sure. 

As you continued to have another internal battle with yourself, Rumi had already dialled Hawks’ number. 

“Yo Hawks! It's Mirko! I need a favour!”

“What is it?”

“Please cover for me. I’m on patrol and I just asked my crush out for dinner at my place but she’s iffy because she doesn’t want me to get in trouble for ditching my patrol--”

“You are ditching your patrol though” he replied. Rumi can already see Hawks using this against her. 

“PLEASE! She’s so beautiful and I like her so much” Rumi practically begged.

“Fine, but I’m doing this because you’ve never seemed so serious for anyone before and I’m happy for you. You don’t have to owe me” he sighed, but Rumi knew that he didn’t mind at all. 

“Thank you so much! Bye! Muah!” she yelled, before facing you. “Hey little carrot, you can come over! I told you my friend was gonna cover me” she smiled, her shiny teeth showing. “I-I..let’s go!” you blushed, wanting to be able to hide your cheeks from her. 

“H-Hey, slow down! Plus I haven’t got any ingredients! We gotta go shopping first!” 

“S-shopping? Together? That’s quite domestic” 

“Better get used to it”

___

“Are you allergic to anything my little carrot?” she questioned, wanting to know which ingredients she should take. “Ah! I’m allergic to shellfish” you mentioned. “I get hives and sometimes my throat closes up”. You stressed that your allergy wasn’t a big deal, but Rumi thought otherwise. “Hm, no seafood then” she pondered on what to get next. “How about pasta?” 

“Oh-I still eat shellfish, but just not often” you spoke, hoping she would overlook this small thing. “That’s not good carrot! You can die like that!” she yelled, catching the attention of most of the customers within the vicinity. “R-Rum-san! Not so loud!” you mumbled, tugging onto the fabric of her hero costume. “I’m okay Rumi-san! I promise!” 

Her concern for you was adorable. Nobody had ever really cared for you like this. You knew your limits and everything, and everyone knew as well, but it was a nice change. The way Rumi cared for you gave your tummy butterflies. Her smile, the way she spoke. You might be in love. For sure, it’s too soon to tell. You’ve also never felt love other than familial love or love for your friends, but you were sure this was love. 

You haven't known Rumi for a long time, but love isn’t about the time you spend, it’s the experiences you both share. If you could describe the way you felt in a word, it would be love. The way Rumi plagued your mind 24/7, the way you felt your heartbeat a little harder than it usually does. This felt like love. Of course, you weren’t about to tell her, but you already had a love for her from the beginning. It had just grown into something more than idolization for her the more you got to know her. Loving Rumi gave you absolute euphoria. Even if her feelings for you were platonic. 

“Hey, baby carrot? Let’s go?” she asked, already pulling you towards the exit of the store, waving at some fans who had called out her name. 

You were still lost in thought. You never understood why she was attracted to you, it wasn’t love, but even her attraction was questionable. To you, it seemed like a whole joke. The fact that your idol even offered to cook for you was baffling, not even that, the fact that she even spoke to you was a miracle itself. You felt tears well up in your eyes. There was just no way that Rumi would actually like you. 

Too lost in your head, you bumped into Rumi who had suddenly stopped, though she wasn’t facing you. She tightened her grip on your hand “I can smell your tears, why are you crying Y/n?” she whispered before whipping around to face you. Her face was riddled with sadness, her ears flopping down at the sides of her face. “D-Did I do something?” she stuttered. She loosened her grip on your hand, letting go completely. 

You felt your heartthrob in your chest. That was the exact opposite! You were crying because you were happy with her, too happy almost. You never wanted it to end. You sobbed a little harder before running to her, burying your face into her chest. Her arms wrapped around you, rubbing your back and pressing soft kisses on the crown of your head.

“I’m sorry! I’m a crybaby! I was crying because spending time with you made me happy! Very happy! I don’t want it to stop! I wanna stay with you forever Rumi-san!” you cried, hugging her tighter as if she was about to evaporate into thin air and never come back. “Baby... I...Can I kiss you?” she whispered, bringing her warm hand to rest upon your tear-stained cheek.  

Your eyes widened. Did she want to kiss you? Well, who were you to deny her? You nodded your head and shut your eyes, feeling the press of her lips against yours. She pressed multiple kisses against your lip before swiping her tongue against your bottom lip, causing you to let out a soft whimper at the contact. 

She grinned and did it once more, this time letting go of the groceries in her hand before pressing you into the bricked walls of the alleyway. Rumi had her hand on your hip and the other against your cheek, your arms wrapped around her and tangled in her soft, silky hair. You moaned as she pried her way into your mouth, exploring it with her tongue before you let out a whine that caught her attention. 

She pulled away to see the work she had done, she had left you flustered and fucked out, just from a kiss. She leaned over to press another soft kiss onto your lips before slowly pulling away again. “I like you, so please believe me when I say so. I want to have more good memories with you. Don’t cry okay? You have me, and I’ll never let go” she whispered before rubbing her nose against yours.  

You giggled as she pulled away, almost surprising her. It was stupid of you to think so negatively. You knew that Rumi would never do anything to hurt you, well, not on purpose at least. You nodded before picking up the groceries on the floor. You smiled. “Let’s go home, Rumi-san”

Her eyes sparkled at the fact that you had called her apartment “home”. She quickly nodded before helping you with the bags, opting to hold all with her one hand so that she could use the other to hold yours. 

___

“We’re finally here!” yelled, making her way to the kitchen to drop off the groceries, you took off your shoes before entering and following her. Her apartment was pretty luxurious. It was one of those gated places that needed I.D and permission to enter, in other words, it was high end. It was to be expected honestly, she was a very famous hero who had some very..determined fans.

Her apartment was mostly white, it didn’t have that many decorations, mostly since Rumi was quite a simple person who had no desire for such things. She did have matching furniture though. You walked through the living room, taking a moment to gaze at her white and grey furniture. It all matched! She had a knack for interior design. If she wasn’t a pro, she would have made some money off being an interior designer.

You finally made your way into the kitchen. Seeing Rumi already putting the groceries away, setting out the ingredients. You gaped at the various ingredients laid out on the counter, why hadn’t you noticed the number of ingredients she had picked up?! There were quite a few.

“Rumi-san? Why’d you get so many ingredients?” you queried, tilting your head to the side in confusion. “Cuz! We’re gonna make a lot of food!” she cheered, raising her fist that was currently holding a pork bun, slightly squishing it and slightly deforming it. 

“R-Rumi-san the pork bun!”

“Oh, haha! Sorry about that baby carrot” she apologized before splitting it in half and pressing it against your lips. Did she want to share? A-And feed you as well? You couldn’t refuse so you shyly took a bite, taking a small piece of the pork bun in your mouth and chewing. You moaned at the wonderful flavours dancing on your tastebuds, this tasted so good! It was still quite warm as well. 

As the both of you continued to stand in eat in the kitchen, neither of you noticed a familiar flying birdman hovering above the balcony, peering at the both of you with a happy smile on his face before flying away. 

“She’s lucky she has me as her friend” Hawks laughed as he continued his patrol. Hopping off of the balcony and flying away like a little weird fairy man. 

___

You both had finished cooking, there was a surprising amount of dishes you two had made. Your meal consisted of a wide but healthy assortment of dishes. It was no surprise that Rumi cared about what she was putting inside her body. 

“Come on baby carrot, let's go eat yeah?” 

You nodded and brought as many plates as you could to the counter, pulling up a chair while Rumi took a chair to sit beside you, promptly digging into her food. “This is so yummy! Where did you learn how to cook like this? I’m not a bad cook myself--” that much was obvious, “-but you cook well carrot!” she gushed, quickly swallowing the food in her mouth. 

“Ah-you're giving me too much credit Rumi-san!” you cried. Your cooking was mediocre at best and she was likely just gassing you to make you feel better. You were unsure of why she was hyping you up, though, you weren’t going to question it. Your mind suddenly drifted back to the kiss you both shared, heat rising onto your cheeks. 

You slapped your cheeks, trying to get any indecent thoughts to exit your head. This caused Rumi to laugh and take another bite of her food, used to your unusual behaviour already. You blushed, though this time, you were less embarrassed than usual. If she had already liked you after knowing you were weird, then why hold back?

“Hey baby carrot, why do you call me Rumi-san? It just seems a little too formal.. and I wanted us to be a little closer than that? I mean, I have a nickname for you” 

This wasn’t the first time that you had thought of giving her a nickname. You were nervous as to what she would say about it. Would she think it was stupid? Would she hate it? Would she make fun of you for it? Of course not, but your thoughts were going a mile a minute and you didn’t have any time to filter them out. 

“I’ll think of one for you, but please give me some time to do so!” 

“Of course baby carrot” she replied before quickly getting back to eating as she motioned for you to do the same. 

The both of you had just finished eating, already washing the remaining dirty dishes, including the pots and pad you had both used to cook. It was quite a domestic and intimate sight. Both of you, side by side. Both washing the dishes. and the other drying. 

As of right now. You were in complete and utter bliss. You’ve had a taste of euphoria and that was Rumi. It was amazing how one person could affect another so much. 

“Hey, it’s getting late. Do you wanna sleep here?” She piled up. Drying a plate before placing it on the dish rack. Meanwhile. Your mind was once again in distress. Why was she so casual about these types of things? Of course, you wanted to sleep beside her, and cuddle close to her, and gee her soft skin brush against yours, and—you get the idea. 

You were a bit hesitant as you didn’t want to overstay your welcome or burden her even further. No matter what she said, you knew that a hero wouldn’t be able to drop their patrol just on the dot. She broke the rules and you knew it. You didn’t want her to be making reckless decisions just because of you! 

“I-I... Am I already overstaying my welcome,” you asked, trying to make sure she wanted this and that she didn’t feel obligated to let you stay for whatever reason? You just wanted a good reason for you to be here. 

“It’s late. I would walk you home to ensure your safety, but right now, there’s a lot of villains lurking and to be honest, I’m not sure if I can take them all while protecting you at the same time” 

She wasn’t lying. If it was just her. For sure she’d be able to go all out and defeat as many villains as she could. She was in the top fen for heaven’s sake! She was just afraid that you’d get caught in the crossfire and end up injured, kidnapped, or worse, dead. 

“Oh.. okay” you mumbled, finishing up washing the dishes. Right now. You were unsure of what to do, she was still unfinished with drying the dishes and had suggested you slept over. Sure you trusted her, but, were you ready to sleep beside her? Were you ready to let her head you snore? Were you ready to let her see your horrible bedhead in the morning? Quite frankly, you were unsure if you were ready at all. 

“But if you want to, I can take you home, it’s your choice. I’ll gladly defend you and protect you carrot” she had quite the facial expression. You could tell that she was determined. Her sheer determination was held in her eyes, her lips pulled up in a smirk and her eyebrows furrowed. 

“I don’t want to be more of an inconvenience, so I’ll just choose the less inconvenient option. I’ll sleep here tonight but I’m taking the couch” you announced. She was going to take it or leave it! You were not going to go into her private space and make her share her rooms and bed. 

“Fine. But. Please feel free to move inside if you’re uncomfortable. I know that couch seems like a good couch to sleep one, but it’s only good for sitting really. More like decoration if you were going, to be honest. 

“Fine, but I promise that I won’t!” you stubbornly added. Wanting to make sure that she understood that you weren’t going to sleep beside her. You were fine sleeping on the couch and she had to understand that! She smiled before giving you a change of clothes, some pillows and blankets, including a spare toothbrush. 

“I’ll be in my room okay? Goodnight carrot” she bid you goodnight before entering her room, not fully shutting it. You fixed up the couch before making your way into the bathroom, passing by Rumi’s bedroom and seeing her shadow move around as her door was left ajar. You changed your clothes and cleaned up, getting ready to take your place on the couch. 

You charged your phone and closed your eyes, waiting to drift off into sleep. 

___

You screamed as you were being chased by a villain, it was in the early hours of the morning, you could tell as the sun was coming up and it just had that morning vibe. You were used to getting up this early and were familiar with it. What you failed to comprehend was why a villain was chasing you? 

It seemed as if it was only about five a.m or six a.m at the latest, but surely by now, there would have been cars driving around. You peeked behind you and saw that the villain had caught up, as he was about to grab you, you suddenly fell off a cliff, your stomach-dropping, your voice stuck in your throat before letting out a shriek and waking up in a cold sweat. What type of dream was that?

“Baby carrot! Are you alright?” said a worried Rumi who already had a glass of water at your side. You tried to take the cup from her but she noticed how shaky your hands were and decided that it would be best to help you drink herself. You slowly gulped down the water, not wanting to choke. You were heaving for air after drinking, maybe you didn’t slow down as much as you had needed to. 

“I-I had a bad dream! I was being chased by a villain and I was all alone! Then when he was about to catch me, I fell off of a cliff!” you explained, recalling the haunting images of the unknown man who had almost caught you. Rumi wrapped her arms around you and had placed you onto her lap, patting your head and rubbing your hands to comfort you. 

“How about you sleep in my room and I sleep here? Are you comfortable with that?” she whispered, not wanting to startle you while in such a vulnerable state. 

“No.. please stay beside me bun. I wanna sleep beside you if that’s all right” you blushed, averting her gaze as you were embarrassed to have mentioned the nickname you had been thinking about for her. It was something you had been thinking about and whilst being cliche, it still suited her quite well. 

“B-Bun? That's such a cute nickname! A little cliche, but still cute! I love it so much and I’m so happy that my cute little carrot thought of it for me!” she gushed, holding you even tighter against your body, almost squeezing the life out of you. 

“I’m glad you like it bun”

“I do carrot. Let’s go to bed now yeah?” she offered, placing your figure down on the couch before straightening herself out and standing up, stretching her arm your in your direction, asking you to take it. You gladly placed your hand in hers, pushing yourself up and sticking beside her as you both made your way to the bed. 

Rumi let go of your hand and made herself comfortable on the bed, making space for you as she moved the large and fluffy comforter and patted the spot, beckoning you to come to take your place beside her. You reluctantly sat on the bed before fully laying flat on your back, awkward and unmoving as you felt Rumi’s eyes on your still figure. 

“You can turn on your side and face me y’ know” she piped up. 

“I’m nervous” you admitted, not wanting to gaze into her eyes. 

Rumi laughed before placing her hand on your cheek, coercing you into facing her direction. You hesitantly obliged and turned your whole body to face her, still avoiding her piercing eyes. She laughed once more before inching her face closer to yours, both of your lips just an inch away from each other. 

“Don’t be a nervous baby carrot, it’s only me” she reassured, stroking the chub of your cheek while you relished in the feeling of the soft pads of her fingers stroking your face. You placed your hand on top of Rumi’s, pressing your face even harder against her palm. Rubbing your cheek against her warm hand. 

“Can I kiss you bun? I wanna kiss you so badly” you softly whined, feeling yourself in the hands of Rumi. Instead of replying she decided to just press her lips against yours, moaning at the feeling of your soft plush lips. 

“Baby carrot” she whimpered, pulling you impossible closer to her, your chests and thighs pressed against each other. You felt arousal consume your whole body, a tight coil forming in your stomach. You whimpered needlessly as Rumi sucked your tongue while wrapping your leg around her hip, placing her hand on the curve of your ass. 

You continued to whine and moan as Rumi caressed your body, her tongue pulling you in and leaving you in a trance. You pulled away, feeling yourself get lost in Rumi herself. 

“If we continued any longer, I would’ve passed out for sure” you sighed, pressing soft kisses on her lips and moving to scatter kisses on her cheeks. She closed her eyes, relishing in the pleasure of you peppering her face with soft kisses. “That’s okay baby carrot, we’ll take it to slow okay?” she took her turn at peppering your cheeks with kisses, making sure to kiss each untouched spot. 

“I like you” you confessed, this time using the courage that had magically shown up to your advantage. You swiped the hair out of her face, wanting to see her. “I like you more,” she replied, kissing the tip of your nose. 

 ___

“Ah~ This is the life! Getting your hair braided by a cute girl while she feeds you!: she chortled, leaning back into your lap as you continued to braid small pieces of her hair while taking small breaks to grab the chopsticks and feed her. You enjoyed watching Rumi relax and eat. It was somewhat satisfying. 

“Don’t you have work today bun?” you asked, feeling much more comfortable than you were from before. After you had spent the night at her place, your relationship with her had only gotten stronger. You felt closer than ever and felt as if nothing could break the pair of you up.

“Nah baby carrot, this is a once in a lifetime thing us heroes call a ‘day off’” she joked, looking behind to face you. “But I’ll be busy this week okay? I don’t want you to worry so I’m just letting you know that I’ll be on the down-low”

It was quite upsetting to see your crush? Girlfriend? Partner? You didn’t even know what to call her. The both of you still hadn’t put a label on your relationship, not that it was a problem, but you wanted to know if she was in it for the long ride or if this was something casual. If it was something casual you would prefer to break it off. You didn’t appreciate sharing your significant other with anyone. 

“Okay bun, I’ll wait for you” you had just settled on something simple, though Rumi saw through your facade and saw that you were somewhat upset by her incoming absence. She just turned around and hugged you, hoping it would give you some type of comfort for your oncoming lonely days without her. 

___

It had been a week since you had seen or heard from Rumi. While she was away, you had busied yourself with tending to your garden, your customers, and practicing baking pastries. You had quite a lot to do. At the moment, you were currently picking some ripe strawberries as you were planning to make some strawberry shortcake, seeing as you had never properly tried it before. 

As you picked the last strawberry, you had noticed it was a mutated one. It was huge! It seemed like it was about three to four normal strawberries combined into one! It fits in the palm of your hand! While you were distracted, you failed to feel your phone vibrate in the pocket of your overalls. 

You made your way inside of your small home and placed the freshly picked basket of fruits on the counter and washed your hands in the sink. After drying your hands, you took your phone out to see a text from Rumi. 

From: bun<3

I’ll be coming home today. I miss you

7:24

Her text made your heart flutter. Even if it was simple, it still filled you with love and affection. Anything Rumi did was amazing in your eyes. It was quite pathetic really, but that’s what love did to people sometimes.  

You decided that this would be a good time to drop by and give her some love and affection with some food included. You smiled as you imagined the happy face that would be present on Rumi’s face when she saw you. She was for sure going to be happy!

You felt yourself starting to feel giddy. This was going to be a good day!

___

You were wrong, dead wrong. Going to Rumi’s house had been a horrible decision. 

You had decided that after closing up the shop, you would make your way to Rumi’s and bring her food. You wanted to show her how much you had missed her, but you mostly wanted to spend time with her. She was always around and made sure to check up on you and your shoot during her patrols. If she wasn’t in the area, she’d send one of her sidekicks in her place.

When you had gotten to Rumi’s place, she still wasn’t home, giving you time to set up a nice dinner for her before she had gotten home. You had prepared some fried rice along with stir-fried vegetables, knowing that she enjoyed a healthy balanced meal, especially after a hard mission. You smiled once again, you were excited to see her again. You just wanted to take her in your arms and love her the way you wanted to. She wasn’t aware, but you were completely and utterly in love with her.

As time went by, it became easier and easier to admit your feelings for Rumi to yourself. Before, you would blush and stutter at the thought of it, but now, you were able to say it to yourself, but sadly not to Rumi. Not yet, at least. 

You heard the front door slam open before hearing a familiar pair of feet stomp inside before hearing the door slam shut. You heard Rumi stomp her way to the kitchen, her brows furrowed and her eyes filled with anger. She didn’t even spare you a glance before placing her keys on the counter and making her way into the bedroom and slamming it shut. 

You sat down on the counter, hoping that she just needed time to relax before spending quality time with you. You waited, and you waited. It had already been an hour and the food had gone cold. The vegetables were cold and hard, as well as the rice. You decided to place everything in a counter before cleaning up. You knew that she was just upset and needed time for herself.

You made your way to the front door, making sure to shut all the necessary lights as it was already nearing midnight. You didn’t wanna upset her any further by overstaying your welcome. Usually, you would have asked to spend the night, but it didn’t seem like Rumi was in the mood for head pats and cuddles. 

You smacked your head with your palm, already putting on your shoes but you had stupidly forgotten about your phone which you had tossed on the couch when you had first arrived. You took off your shoes once more before stepping back into the living room, knowing how disrespectful it was to walk into someone's home with shoes on, especially dirty shoes. 

You made your way to the couch before picking up your phone, seeing two different texts from Rumi before she had gotten home. 

From: bun <3

I’m really upset, usually, I’d love for you to visit but I just want to be alone. I hope you understand. 

10:23

From: bun<3

We can go out tomorrow if you’d like? I miss you carrot

10:26

You were an idiot. An actual idiot. At that time, you were already setting the table as you had closed the shop at eight, having only two hours to cook Rumi a proper meal before her arrival. You should have just left her alone. Now she thinks that you ignored her texts and invited yourself into her home anyways.

You sighed before plopping your phone down on the cushion beside you, placing your arm over your eyes, wanting to just go home and sleep. You should probably make your way home now. It was already getting late. You sat up, making a move to get up off of the couch when Rumi’s bedroom door slammed shut. A pair of feet dragging down the hallway as she made herself known in the living room, standing barely two feet away from you. 

Your jaw was left hanging. You were unsure of what to say? Would she be upset? Would she kick you out? Before you could come up with any more anxiety-inducing thoughts, Rumi had chosen to interrupt you before you had gone any further. 

“Why’re you still here? I thought I made it clear that I wanted to be alone. Do you not know how to use your head?” she sassed, moving around the coffee table to walk towards the kitchen. While she was in the kitchen, you remained glued to the couch. Appalled at the words that had just exited her mouth. 

“I-I” you stuttered, unable to formulate a proper response under her piercing gaze from where she stood in the kitchen. 

“What? Are you just going to stutter and babble like a dumbass? I asked you if you could use your head or not. I’m not sure how clear I could have made this, but I did not want to see you today. I had a shitty mission and all I wanted to do was come home and relax. Instead, I come home to you, doing God knows what in the kitchen! Have you no boundaries? Can your pea-sized brain even comprehend boundaries?” she mocked, harsh words spouting from her mouth as if her mouth was a fountain of curses. “Fucking idiot” she mumbled under her breath. 

You wanted to cry. This time, you had a good reason. You hadn’t expected Rumi to be this upset with you. You had good intentions but you didn’t mean to overstep. You had only wanted to let her know that you had missed her. 

You nodded, opting to stare at your hands that were neatly folded in your lap instead of defending yourself. You probably deserved this anyways. It would be over soon, you just had to suck it up and tough it out. You did put yourself in this situation in the first place. 

“Nothing to say? You’re dumber than I thought” she hissed. 

“You’re going too far Rumi-san. I never intended to step over any boundaries. I was already here before you texted me because I wanted to make sure that you could easily relax when you got home. I wanted to cook for you and take care of you—“ you cried, your tears finally sliding down your cheeks “—I didn’t mean to overstep. But you insulting my intelligence and my mannerisms is too far. You’re being disrespectful and I don’t like that. Don’t take your anger out on me” you scolded, staring at her with such an intense and almost hateful gaze.

You could never hate Rumi, but the words she had spoken to you were something that you were going to remember for the rest of your life, you knew that this would haunt you forever and probably give you nightmares. 

Her face faltered. Your words had finally been processed in her head. Sometimes Rumi acted before thinking. It was one of her lesser traits but you grew to love it anyway. 

It was quite surprising how you were able to defend yourself without bursting into tears, probably because this was the one person whom you had never expected to blow upon you--to take their anger out on you. 

“If you never liked me, then why did you lead me on? What was the whole point of this? You wasted my time, and yours as well” You spat, finally allowing your tears to cascade down your cheeks. “You are a horrible person Usagiyama Rumi.” you spat with venom before taking the rest of your things and walking past her, stopping at the door to say “Delete my number”

You understood that you had done something wrong, but the fact that she had degraded you and insulted you was just immature. You wiped the tears off of your face, upset at the fact that she thought that was okay. Had she always thought this way? Was she just playing you? Your mind was just running amok and you didn’t have anyone to calm you down. 

Luckily, you had safely made it home, encountering no villains or criminals during your journey home. When you had gotten home, you had thrown yourself in bed, not even bothering to change your clothes or clean up. You cried yourself to sleep that night, your anxiety and insecurities weighing down on your shoulders. 

___

It had been a few days after your encounter with Rumi. You had muted her texts and calls, not having the heart to block her and fully eliminate her from your life just yet. You sighed once more, picking the rest of the carrots and taking them back inside to wash. It was almost time to open up the store. 

It had been quite a rough week, you spent most of your week crying, thus resulting in red puffy eyes. It still hurt to touch or rub them. You probably looked stupid, and it was probably noticed that you had been crying. 

You chose to wear glasses today, hoping that it would hide your tired and puffy eyes, not wanting your customers to worry about your wellbeing, especially Ms. Takeshi. She was quite old and you did not need her to worry about you as if you were one of her children, of course, you thought of her as a mom but you didn’t wanna burden her with your problems. 

Hopefully, today will be a better day for you and your fruits and vegetables. 

___

“She’s not answering me Keigo! I’m getting nervous!” Rumi whined, feeling slightly queasy.     

“She probably blocked you” he laughed, finding some amusement in his friend's pain. It was quite sadistic but this was Keigo we’re talking about. It wasn’t rare to see him finding amusement in fucked up things. It was just how he worked. 

“But my texts are still going in! I keep trying to apologize but she keeps ignoring me” she whined, flopping on her back and tossing her phone away from her. They were both currently on patrol, sitting atop of a building somewhere in the city. Both of them were currently situated on top of the building a few buildings away from your shop, your little building of establishment visible. 

“If you did that to me, ridiculed and degraded me, you would never hear from me again. I’m not surprised by her actions Rumi. She was a great girl and sorry to say it, but you fucked up. Real bad.” he continued, wanting his companion to realize how badly she had fucked up. 

“You don’t have to tell me okay?” she grumbled, starting to feel irritation seep into her veins while her supposed friend continued to bring up her mistakes. 

“Yeah, but you still gotta apologize anyways” he blew a piece of flyaway hair out of his face before continuing. “Why’d you do that anyway? Were you just leading her on or something? Cuz that’s mean” Keigo teased, adding more salt to her open wound. 

“I-I was frustrated. One of the younger heroes got killed. A bunch of civilians too. I felt so fucking useless. I was useless. I didn’t save anyone. I may have kicked ass, but that’s not what being a hero is all about. Being a hero is about saving as many lives as you can. I saved nobodies. I just wanted to be alone and I told her that, but I guess she didn’t see. When I saw her at my place, I just left her for a while. I didn’t talk to her--” she sighed. 

“Then I came out and she was just sitting on the couch. I don’t know what overcame me. I just lost it. What I did wasn’t right and I have to earn her forgiveness, but I’m not even sure she’ll let me. I hurt her so fucking bad Keigo” she sighed, placing her arm on her face, shielding herself from Keigo’s pitying gaze. 

Keigo tsked before getting up, shaking his head in disapproval. “I got a plan for you bunny girl, don’t worry about it. Just make sure that you have something nice planned for tomorrow, and dress nice too. Just leave it to me. I’ll help ya. Believe it.”

“Naruto?”

“Shut up”

___

As you were exiting the shop, you encountered a familiar winged hero, stopping at the magnificent sight of his wings. “Hawks?” you squinted, almost thinking you were dreaming, fast asleep on top of the counter in your shop. 

“Hey birdy, how are ya?” he greeted, stepping a little closer to you. 

“I’m okay. I’m sorry, I’m closing the shop right now but if you want anything, I can open it back up? They won’t be as fresh as it’s already late, but I can fix them up with my quirk!” you explained, already digging for the key in your pocket. 

“Nah baby I’m okay, don’t worry about me. I was just wondering if I could take you out? Maybe for coffee?” he asked, scratching the back of his neck. You blushed. What did he want with you? Was he playing with you? Was this a ploy to get you back with Rumi when you hadn’t even established a proper relationship with her?

“O-Okay, I don’t mind” you stuttered, blushing at the fact that he wanted to take you out. This still must have been a play, but this was still the Pro-Hero Hawks! This was an opportunity you couldn’t miss due to your stubborn and prideful personality!

“Come here baby bird, we’re flying” he smiled, wrapping his arms around your waist before taking off, launching the both of you into the air. You screamed as you both flew up, not used to flying. 

“Um… Hawks-san... Why did you want to talk? I’ve never spoken to me before” you started, clutching his arm a little harder as he weaved the both of you through the city. “I’ll talk at the coffee shop okay? I promise.” he smiled.

You nodded, not wanting to pry any further as you didn’t want to overstep your boundaries once more. 

___

“Look, Rumi misses you kid.” he started, scratching the back of his head, mussing up his already wind-swept hair. “I KNEW IT!” you cried, slamming your frappuccino that he oh so kindly bought for you on the table, startling Hawks and the few customers in the joint. 

“I know she’s sorry. I’ve seen her. She’s messed up right now. I know what she did was shitty but you gotta give her another chance kid.” he nearly begged, grasping at your hands. You scowled. How dare he? What did he know? 

”Is that supposed to make me pity her? She knows what she did. And, with all due respect, you shouldn't even be trying to apologize for her in the first place, Hawks-san” you seethed, letting go of his hands and balling yours into fists. You were irritated. 

”Look, I know how badly she fucked up. If it was me, I wouldn't even waste my time with her. But that's me, and this is you. I know you’re in love with her baby bird. Please don't give up on her just because of one fight. All couples fight and all couples are toxic in their own ways. You just have to communicate.” he smiled. 

”F-Fine! But… Please don't mention my feelings for her! That's just embarrassing!” you yelled, hiding your heating face into the palms of your hand. Hawks smiled again before getting up, beckoning for you to follow him. 

Hawks was quite surprised at your willingness to accompany him to meet Rumi. he expected you to be either hesitant or just reject his proposal and leave Rumi in the dust. He smiled once more, you had strong feelings for her, that was a guarantee. 

But, it was now or never. 

Hawks had flown the both of you on top of this building a few ways away from your shop. Your shop was actually visible from here! As Hawks set you down, he motioned for you to turn around, you obeyed, only to see Rumi standing there, holding a bouquet of white orchids. You recognized them as the ‘I’m sorry flowers’. You scoffed. Did she think you were going to be bought by flowers? 

Maybe. 

You felt your cheeks heating up at the sight of Rumi. She still wore her normal clothes, but for some reason, she looks even more attractive than she did before. Of course, she was attractive but it felt as if her attractiveness doubled. Or was that just because you haven’t seen her for some time? People did say that absence makes the heart grow fonder. 

Rumi approached you before trying to nudge the flowers in your hands. You reluctantly took them, not wanting to rub any more salt onto her wounds. You knew that what she had done was wrong and disrespectful, but you understood that sometimes people snapped. Anger was a human emotion, though she just didn't deal with it very well.  

“I’m sorry carrot. I disrespected you and called you names. I made fun of your intelligence even though you’re one of the smartest, prettiest, and most creative people I’ve had the pleasure of meeting. I know that I can’t make excuses, but I know what I can do is try my best to get you to forgive me and regain your trust” she softly spoke, staring lovingly into your eyes. 

You felt tears well up in your eyes. You knew she was sorry, but you still felt hurt by her words. She may have just said it out of anger and to hurt you, but it still hurt. There was the intention with her words. You knew and felt it. You knew that you would be able to forgive her but when things like this happened, it turned you off. 

Though, this case is special. You should’ve checked your phone and asked for permission to go inside her home in the first place. Your fault may not have been as serious or as severe as hers, but you weren’t going to let her shoulder all of the blame. 

You placed the flowers down on the floor, resulting in you worrying Rumi in the process. Were you going to leave? Did you not accept her apology? Did you hate her? Did you never want to see her again? Were you ever going to forgive her? Rumi could feel her heartbeat pounding in her ears, anxiety bubbling up inside her. She was suddenly overcome with an urge to hurl. Before she could even gag, you had already thrown yourself in her arms, wrapping your arms around your neck whilst your legs did the same to her waist. 

“I accept your apology! I’m sorry too! I didn’t mean to ignore my texts! Please take me back! I love you so much bun bun!” you sobbed, grasping her even tighter, unaware of what you had just spoken. You heard Rumi let out a laugh of disbelief. 

She pulled away to gaze at your crying face, feeling herself fall even harder for the crybaby right in front of her. She smiled before slamming her lips against yours, quickly dipping her tongue inside of your mouth. Your eyes widened at the surprise kiss before you slowly melted into it, using your tongue to caress hers, pulling her in even further into you. 

As you and Rumi made out, Hawks stood there. He literally just stood there. “H-Hey Rumi! I thought you said I would be eating dinner with you guys” he tried to gain their attention, even sending some of his feathers to them, trying to separate them from each other. 

But, Rumi just shooed him away, leaving Hawks to sadly walk away. As Hawks flew off of the building, his one thought was ‘when will I meet my someone?’. He sighed and continued his flight home. He would meet his soulmate one day. That was for sure. 

“Rumi, do you love me back?” you asked, wanting to hear it come from her mouth. She smiled, caressing the soft skin of your cheeks. “I do carrot. I really do” she smiled, leaning in for another kiss. “Why did you choose to bring me up here though? We could have just gone to your apartment” you tilted your head, resulting in Rumi’s heart skipping a beat. 

“Well, I’ve actually known you for a while. There was a time where I was patrolling here and I saw you walking home, it was already late so I wanted to keep an eye out for you and make sure you were safe. I saw you reviving all the dead plants you passed by, even growing some berries on the shrubbery. I just thought you were so interesting, but I didn't want to be a stalker so I let you go. Then a few days later, I get thrown inside your shop. What a coincidence huh?” she laughed. 

“You’re such a simp bun” you teased, pinching her soft chubby cheeks. 

“Oh! That reminds me, I got you something!” she revealed a small box before handing it to you. It was quite heavy. You opened it, only to find out that it was a bunny! Rumi had gotten you a bunny! How ironic. You scooped it out of the box before placing the bunny in your arms, feeling your bottom lip tremble at the adorable site of the bunny. 

“Do you like it?” she queried, anxious to find out. 

“I love it! I’m gonna name them Hawks!”

“E-Eh? Why!? Why not after me? Hey! Wait! Don’t use your vines to escape! Answer me!” 

___

“Rumi! Where do I smash this in?” you asked, wondering where the hammer was. “Baby carrot, that’s a screw, you can’t use a hammer, we need a drill,” she informed you, carefully taking the hammer out of your dangerous hands. 

“Why’d I have to get such a big closet anyways” you grumbled, sitting on the ground with a pout, hating how useless you were right now. “Because you ran out of snack space. It’s okay. My dad taught me how to build stuff, also this is from IKEA so it’s easy to follow” she bragged, smirking at your sulking figure. 

“Can you hand me the door? We can attach it now. Don’t worry, we’re almost done baby, I promise” she smiled, ruffling the top of your hair. You grumbled about not liking her messing your hair up before reluctantly getting up to fetch the door for your lovely girlfriend. Has this door always been so big and heavy?

You squatted and wrapped your arms around the door, grunting as you tried to pick it up. You succeeded but lost your balance, your legs locking into place as you fell backwards, the door landing on top of you and smashing into your forehead. “HELP!” you cried as you were pinned under the door.

Rumi came running in, thinking you had hammered a nail through your own foot, only to find you on the floor, under a cabinet door. She snickered as your limbs wiggled. 

“I guess you can say you look… a-door-able HAHAHA!”

“Haha. Please help, my lungs are being crushed”

“OH SHIT”

© katsukisbimbo 2020 — all rights reserved. please refrain from modifying, translating, reposting of any kind. plagiarism will NOT be tolerated. please be kind and enjoy!

[troped-fanfic-challenge]

JATP ROUND THREE FICS!

We received fourteen (14!!!!) fics for Round Three of the JATP Event! These fics are full of that sweet, sweet canonverse goodness that we can’t get enough of, but with our signature TROPED twist! We loved to see you all challenge yourselves with the theme, tropes, and pairings!

Please try to read as many fics as you can! Take some notes, leave some kudos/comments for the authors, and help us vote on the winners!

Voting will be open until May 29th at 11:59pm EST! Vote here:

https://www.surveymonkey.com/r/BZ3W5FT

———

Just say you won't let go (Rated G) [Julie/Luke]

Summary: Hey, Julie

You're the heart and soul 'round here, it's plain to see

in which Julie has a second chance with her boys, and then another

we will fight to shine together (bright forever) (Rated G) [Bright Lighting Guy/Rob from the Orpheum]

Summary: “Hey,” Chris says, walking up to the boy. “What are you doing?”

“Oh,” he puts the dandelions down and stands up. “Hi. I’m trying to make a flower crown, but I don’t remember how.”

“Cool. I’m Chris, I live--” he points to his house. “Over there.”

The boy gives him a lopsided smile. “I’m Rob. I’m staying with my grandparents for the summer.”

~

or: the rob/bright lighting guy fic literally nobody asked for but i wrote anyways. enjoy gays, bring ur tissues

what happened when (Rated G) [Alex/Luke]

Summary: Before Julie and the Phantoms, before the guys became ghosts, before Sunset Curve -- they were Luke and Alex. Not 5 feet apart cause they're totally gay.

who cares if one more light goes out? (in a sky of a million stars) (Rated T) [Ray/Rose]

Summary: Rose moves in across the street when he’s eight and she is seven. Their parents push for them to play together, because that’s what parents do. They’re not wrong about it though. The two of them get on like a house on fire and some of his happiest memories from his childhood are just him and Rose, sitting in the large oak tree behind their houses. Hidden up in the branches, between the millions of dark green leaves, they played together.

or: The first and the last time Ray ever kissed Rose.

we can forget the world (just you and me) (Rated T) [Alex/Willie]

Summary: “This was the first place I ever came out to someone,” Alex says, spinning around and taking in the tree house.

together we can take on the world (Rated G) [Alex/Reggie]

Summary: Alex Mercer meets Reggie Peters on October 8, 1983, which means that two days have passed since Reggie's sixth birthday, because Reggie is a Libra according to the magazines that his mom reads when she gets Reggie to paint her toenails. He’s also just moved to Los Angeles, California from his hometown of Gatlinburg, Tennessee, a small town in the mountains, and he’s told Alex Mercer about all of this in the three minutes that they’ve known each other, and he might be the loudest, most obnoxious boy that Alex has ever met, and he absolutely has to be Alex’s new best friend.

The Peters family moves in down the street from the Mercers in 1983, and so begins the rest of their lives.

Long Live (Can I start another life with you?) (Rated T) [Julie/Luke]

Summary: It's all too much for one day: first a muffin, then more heartbeats. Julie just needs some time to think. If Luke runs after her to sit by her side so she doesn't lose it, she won't complain.

Except afterwards, he starts acting weird. Very weird. And months later, she's tired of letting him keep his distance.

She can’t do this. Not right now. Not today.

She jumps back on her feet.

The excited grin falls from Luke’s face. She doesn’t try to catch it.

“I – I think this is too much. I need some time. Alone. Sorry.”

Then she runs. She runs past the calloused fingers reaching out to her. Past Reggie and the door, past carved pumpkins on porches and Cornelia Street.

She just runs.

Roses (Rated G) [Emily & Luke, Alex/Luke]

Summary: It becomes a sacred place she shares with her son. Mitch is usually off at work from dawn until six o’clock, but Emily’s working from home for now. She works as a florist’s shop right outside the neighborhood. So she brings home seeds and little flowers and other cuts from the store; she and Luke will spend hours out in the dirt, planting seeds and making mud pies and Luke will babble about whatever happened in daycare and make up stories about the different flowers.

Somewhere Only We Know (Rated T) [Nick/Carrie]

Summary: Nick Danforth-Evans met Julie Molina when he was six years old. He had no idea how much an impact that afternoon would have on his life.

___

A journey through Nick Danforth-Evan's life as experienced in the safety of his backyard hide away.

The Itty Bitty Details (Rated T) [Alex/Willie]

Summary: “Did I forget to mention William, I also get your soul,”

Willie could feel a stinging feeling and a purple stamp appeared on his hand. When the stamp appeared he could no longer remember who Alex was. The name meant nothing to Willie now.

Or 5 times Willie knew Alex and one where Alex knew Willie

you're the only one who makes me (my wildflower) (Rated T) [Bobby/Reggie]

Summary: The tree was Reggie's safe space, and Bobby was his safe person. He could escape all his troubles there, except for one nagging thought - did he have feelings for his best friend?

Dying complicated things.

because i've known you so long, i know every cadence and what they mean (Rated G) [Alex & Julie, Julie/Luke]

Summary: Alex and Julie have always lived right next to each other. Through highs and lows, they grow up together. Also, 5 times Luke kisses Julie and it doesn't count plus 1 time Julie kisses Luke and it does count.

Alternatively, the Juke 5+1 fic from Alex's POV. Strap in, folks.

Someday (I'll See You Again) (Rated T) [Alex/Willie]

Summary: They’re wrong. Alex, you are not a failure. You’re incredible. You’re smart. You’re funny, and the best friend I could ask for. You’re a wicked talented drummer and you have a beautiful voice. And more important than all of that, is that you’re you, Alex. And the you you are is wonderful, and lovable and perfect. If your parents can’t see that, that’s their own fault. But I swear, Alex. If you’re afraid of them, I need you to tell me. You have to be safe.” Willie’s voice had gone desperate by the end. Alex deserved to know how freaking amazing he was and the fact that his parents didn’t bother to tell him, and actively worked to tear him down instead, was infuriating.

But Willie also worried about him. He’d worried about Alex since the first time he heard Mr. Mercer shouting through the window, a worry that never really went away. Not with the way Alex automatically straightened up when his parents were mentioned, as if he could hear his dad lecturing him about appearances from miles away. Not with the way Alex looked when he was with them, perfectly pieced together and falling apart at the seams, eyes distant and shoulders tense. Willie was pretty sure he had worrying about Alex etched in his bones by this point.

The Energy Never Dies (Rated T) [Gen Fic]

Summary: Well, I ain't always right, but I've never been wrong

Seldom turns out the way it does in a song

Once in a while, you get shown the light

In the strangest of places if you look at it right

--- Scarlet Begonias, Grateful Dead

Four moments across time in the loft of the Molina's garage.

[savethelastdan]

Yashahime Is Over Party: Contribution #2

“All right, all right!” 

The crowd of villagers quieted (some with a wince) as the high-pitched shout rang around the village entrance. Ten-year-old Moroha gave them one last warning glare for good measure. 

With, as her Great-Grandpa on the other side of the Well would say, “more gusto than should be necessary”, she then leapt upon the nearest height-offering surface - one of the tourists’ suitcases, emblazoned a dozen times on every side with “FRAGILE” - and began her welcome speech. 

“Shut your mouths and hold onto your butts, folks, because this is a real treat! The coolest village ever to exist in any timeline, on a sunny day! Since my big brother is at kitsune academy today, you all have the honor of yours truly acting as escort around this prime piece of feudal real estate!” 

Dramatic pause for emphasis. (Yes, she’d taken some liberties with the script that Shippo had left, and she didn’t quite know what ‘prime piece of real estate’ actually meant, but her cousin Towa agreed that it sounded fancy and fancy always worked with humans.) 

A soft-faced young woman glanced around the crowd self-consciously before raising a hand. “You mean, this is the village where priestess Kikyo - “

“Ahem!” Moroha held up the wooden sign hanging from her neck, tapping the carved-in letters spelling ‘Village Tour Guide #2” with one nail. “Are you wearin’ the sign?”

“Oh. Uh, sorry.” The woman blushed. 

After a moment, Moroha cleared her throat. “Okay, yeah, it is. But there’s a bunch of other super-cool people here, too! If you wanna meet them - follow me!” With that, she jumped from the suitcase to land solidly in the dirt. A few tourists reared back from the cloud of disturbed dust, putting them at the back of the moving crowd. 

“First up, the sister of the blah-dee-blah-famed-priestess-blah-dee-blah Kikyo - Lady Kaedeeeeee!” She swung both arms in a dramatic half-circle towards the healer woman’s hut; the crowd ooh-ed and ah-ed appropriately. “On days like these, she’s either healing a sick patient, birthin’ a new baby, or taking a long nap! Since she’s awfully old, the napping’s more frequent.” Hooking an arm around a teenage tourist’s shoulder, she hissed in a spooky tone, “Some say she’ll live forever, getting older and older until she’s like a living zombie-” 

“I heard that.” With a cross expression, Kaede leaned out of the window.“Don’t think I won’t curse you for those bad manners.”

Moroha waved the group on with a nervous chuckle. 

“And this is the home of the most famous demon slayer known to womankind - Sango!” Cupping both hands around her mouth like a bullhorn, Moroha drew out the last syllable of the woman’s name to emphasize her coolness. Several of the humans perked up with excitement; it wasn’t hard to imagine that they had themselves benefited from some of the woman’s work. 

“Her husband Miroku lives here too. He used to be a monk, but now he’s a family guy! My papa says -” She straightened, putting on a deep, gruff tone - “it’s a damn miracle -” Dropping the tone, she grinned cheerily at the group - “nobody will tell me why!” 

As if on cue, the door to the house opened to reveal a group of tall, bickering young adults. The loudest were two women with matching features, the only visible difference to a stranger being that one’s slayer outfit was trimmed in pink and the other’s in green. Behind them trotted a younger boy, also wearing a slayer outfit in red.  

“I’m taking the kusarigama, you’re taking the wakizashi!” The green-outfitted slayer said, ignoring her sister’s attempts to talk over her. “Otherwise you and Mom will have two long-range weapons, and that makes no sense!” 

“Plus that’s Uncle Kohaku’s specialty!” Their brother piped up; he dodged the twin elbows that swung back at him as easily as if they’d warned him. “She wants to impress him with it so he’ll take her on his trip to the mountains with Rin this summer!” 

Through the left-open door, came the sweet smell of treats baking - one of the many hobbies Miroku had taken up with his time, now that he wasn’t going to up and die (Moroha knew she wasn’t technically supposed to know about that. Or probably phrase it like that… But if her godfather Koga said it that way, why was it any different for her?)

The group of slayers stopped short upon seeing the crowd; with awkward bows, they quickly skirted their way around the gaping tourists. 

““That’s Sango’s kids; every one of ‘em demon slayer prodigies.” Slinging her arm around the same teen from earlier, Moroha shook her head with a dramatic sigh. “Makes me almost want another sibling. Except then I’d have to share my room, nooooo thank you!”

“Excuse me.” A mustached man in the middle of the group raised one arm curiously. “I heard one of those women mention Rin - is that the human who died twice and was resurrected by the sword Tenseiga?” 

“Huh? Oh, yeah. That’s Rin.” Moroha tapped her own head thoughtfully and muttered under her breath, “Was it really only twice…”

“Does she still live here?” The man’s mustache drooped in a frown. “Or did she go to live with that dog demon?”

“Dog demon? Ohhh, you mean Uncle Sesshomaru!” A smile stretched across her face. “I almost forgot about him! Nah, after she got married she decided to stay in town -” 

“Married?!” The group erupted in murmurs of horror. One kerchiefed mother clapped her hands over the ears of her daughter; the mustached man turned green.

Moroha’s face fell. “Well, yeah. She wanted to keep taking healer lessons from Kaede, and even though he travels a lot, she wanted to stay by Kohaku’s side when he comes home. Be a team, and all that.” 

“Ohhhh, so she’s Kohaku’s wife!” The human mother’s shoulders slumped with a sigh. “How lovely and age-appropriate.” 

Moroha wasn’t sure what that meant, but if it made the negative energy go away then she was all for it! “Rin’s super cool, anyway. She knows how to heal demons, not just humans, and she tells really good ghost stories, and she’s actually really good at arm-wrestling -” 

Suddenly she ducked her head to whisper, “She’s probably my favorite cousin, if I’m bein’ honest with ya.”

 “Do you have other cousins?” A man who appeared to look a thousand years old squinted in her direction. Perhaps in confusion, but it was hard to tell with all the wrinkles. “I doubt a full-blooded dog demon like that Sesshomaru fella would leave his legacy in the hands of a human girl.” 

“My mom would say that’s prejudiced,” Moroha said helpfully, causing the old man to blanche. “But Rin’s got two little sisters, who you can see riiiiiiight now!” 

With a dramatic twist, she whirled around to point in the opposite direction with both hands, adding a low growl that was meant to mimic the roar of an excited crowd. 

The moment was slightly underwhelmed by the confused looks of the tourists as they took a moment to figure out where exactly to look. That’s okay; she’d work on it. 

Down the road, her twin cousins leaned against the wall of a house (Moroha’s house, which she was saving for last because you always save the best for last). Towa was smiling and pointing out something up in the sky, while Setsuna wore a very predictable scowl. From this far away, the red streaks in their hair were little more than smudges. 

The extremely old man with an attitude problem made a weird hacking noise, most likely in surprise. 

“Did he adopt them like your other cousin?” asked a teenage girl. 

“Kinda!” Both hands landed on her hips; Moroha then modeled her expression on her Uncle - stoic, dismissive, oh-so-cool. “On a cool spring night, Uncle Sesshomaru walked into the darkest, deepest forest on the planet, waved his sword over a really old and creepy tree, and when he cut it open - there they were. Two lil’ hanyou babies.” 

Dramatic pause. 

“Just kiddin’.” Laughing loud enough to bring back the wincing from the group, Moroha slapped her knee. “They’re full demons. I can still take either of ‘em in a fight, though. Oh!” She pointed up in the air with a wide, excited smile. “There’s their mom right now!” 

Murmurs of confusion filled the air as the tourists moved their heads this way, that way; only when a chilling breeze morphed into flesh and bone, right before their eyes, did the group exclaim in collective understanding. 

Moroha waved. “Hi, Auntie Kagura!” 

“Yo.” Clearly taken aback by the crowd, the wind demon gave a tiny salute. The side of her neck bore a half-moon symbol tattooed on the skin; Moroha thought it was neat, even if her dad thought it was a dumb, archaic wedding ritual. “Do your parents know you’re doing this?” 

“Uh, duh!” She held up the sign with a cheeky grin. 

“Fair enough.” Upon spying her daughters across the way, Kagura’s expression softened a bit. “Well, I’ll see you later.” 

“No, wait! We’re actually heading the same way.” Gesturing to the not-moving crowd, Moroha repeated, “The same way. Meaning the best part of the tour - come on, folks, work with me here -” 

Kagura snorted, walking quickly as though to avoid the gawking humans and their nosy questions about how she had been resurrected or could still live now that Naraku was dead or got Sesshomaru to admit he had feelings much less have kids with her. A curt “none of your business” was all they’d get, no matter how much Moroha tugged on her sleeve and whined about “giving people their money’s worth.”

Luckily, once they reached Moroha’s house, it was easy to escape. After all, a much more awe-inspiring attraction awaited the group of lucky, lucky tourists. 

“And now! The Greatest Love Story Of Our Time!” With a winning grin, Moroha landed a kick on the door, sending it slamming open. 

“Oh.” Kagome blinked at the group from where she sat on a futon in the middle of the house, surrounded by magical artifacts. A scroll marked with ink rolled from her lap all the way to one side of the room. Behind her, halfway through helping her put her hair in a bun, Inuyasha froze “Uh, hello?”

“My parents! Dumdedumdummmmm!” The warmth of her pride felt like it was going to burst in her chest. It was the absolute best to come home to people who loved her! Whether it was tickle fights before bed, or her dad taking her and Shippo out on demon-tracking trips, or her mom humming a lullaby if she felt sick on the full moon night, Moroha was certain her family was the best of anybody’s anywhere. “One fell through time, and one fell -- fell, uh, for her -- sorry, I’ll work on it.” 

Inuyasha huffed in the way that meant he was going to complain later. Kagome just chuckled and waved. 

For once, the humans reacted exactly the way Moroha wanted them to - smiling, clapping, appreciating the wonder of her super-beautiful-and-also-hella-powerful mom and grumpy-but-still-amazingly-brave papa. She launched into the story she knew by heart, of how they had come to be together and saved the whole world while they were at it. Some parts were probably missing or misrepresented, from the laughter in her mom’s eyes, but she had enough of it right that half the tourist group was in near tears by the time she was done. 

“And now, they have one more accomplishment to add to the long list - parenting the greatest warrior this world has ever seen. Moro-uh, Beniyasha!” Swirling the ends of her fire-rat robe, she twirled. “The Crimson Slayer!”

“Slayer of my patience, maybe,” Inuyasha snapped, though he was unable to hide his smile as he marched over to grab her by the collar. “Come ‘ere, kid. You’ve got chores to do!” 

Tossing her over his shoulder, he waved dismissively at the group of humans. “Sorry folks, the show ends here. Yeesh...” 

Moroha cupped both hands around her mouth, screeching to be heard over her parent’s laughter before the door shut.

“Make sure to leave your comment cards in the box at the entrance!”

[rims-things]

Fanfiction - One Shot

Fanfiction

Show : Doom at your Service

Myul Mang / Kim Saram x Dong Kyung

Setup : Kim Saram falls sick for the first time in his life. Thankfully Dong Kyung is there to take care of him

Concept suggested by : @dizistyles ❤

"Hello? You there ? "

Dong Kyung walked across her room , speaking into her phone and waiting for him to reply. It was already late at night and ever since he turned into a human, he would often fall asleep without warning.

She chuckled, imagining how sweetly he might be cuddled up in the bed.

"You're asleep. Good night Kim Saram.." she said before cutting the call.

Dong Kyung walked back to her laptop to note down whatever information she had just taken down for her novel.

She woke up the next day , expecting to get a call from him. She impatiently kept checking her phone , but all in vain. There was absolutely no news of him.

But he had promised to drop me to work today - She wondered.

When it was about time he should have come to pick her up, she instantly felt anxious.

Did he disappear? Was it a dream? Was it all a dream?

She panicked and quickly dialed his phone number with shivering hands.

Pick up! Please.. please pick up! - She begged.

.

.

"Hello?" His voice was weak but felt like a blessing to her ears.

She took a sigh of relief.

"Are you okay?? Why didn't you come ?" She asked trying to calm herself down.

He suddenly realized that he had been asleep all this while and it was late already.

"I... I'm.." he couldn't speak properly.

"Saram? .. are you okay ?" She started getting worried.

He slowly sat up on his bed and squeezed his eyes.

"I don't feel good." He said in a low voice.

That was enough for Dong Kyung to immediately pick up her bag and leave for his house. Not that she was just worried what might be wrong, but she was always anxious about his disappearance.

Saram held his head in his palms and groaned in pain.

"Ahhhh! Why does it feel so bad " he said to himself.

Ofcourse he was a doctor, and he knew everything about the human body. But only in theory.

He kept whining about the situation when Dong Kyung crashed into his room. His face lit up instantly.

"Saram.. are you okay ??" She said, running towards him.

"Ya.. i am fine.. i think i have what you call a... 'headache' " he said with a forced smile, he felt terrible from inside.

Dong Kyung could see the bizarre look on his face and immediately understood that he was not well.

"Hey! Don't lie to me.." she said, sitting next to him and caressing his cheek with her tiny fingers.

She jumped in horror. His skin was burning with fever.

"YA! Saram! You are burning!" She shouted feeling panicked.

He looked at her with a confused and dull look. He felt strange, sleepy, heavy on the head and weak.

"Burning ? " He said touching his face. "Aah.. so I have a 'fever' ?" He asked sounding curious.

Dong Kyung rolled her eyes and pressed her foot hard on the floor.

"How can you not know that you have a fever, when you are a doctor by profession?" She taunted.

"I've seen sick people but i haven't fallen sick myself.. how would I know how it feels ?" He said with a straight face as if it was so obvious.

Dong Kyong shook her head and stood up from the bed to leave.

He immediately held her hand back.

"Where are you going? Don't leave me... I'm sick ." He pleaded like a child.

Sometimes he was such a baby and she couldn't help but love him even more. She smiled at him warmly.

"I'm going to get you a medicine" she informed.

"Oh okay.." he said , releasing her hand immediately.

She chuckled at his tantrums and turned around to leave but he called out to her again.

"Dong Kyung..i also feel.. numb .. as if I have no energy.. as if I can't stand ? Or walk? Is that what you call 'weakness' ?" He asked, inquisitively.

She turned towards him and sighed.

"Yes... you're feeling weak because you are sick. You have a headache, you will feel dizzy, sleepy and lazy"

"Woah! You know a lot about being sick." He exclaimed.

Dong Kyung rolled her eyes and sighed helplessly. He was impossible

"I'll be right back" she said before walking out.

By the time she returned, he had covered himself with a blanket and fallen asleep.

She quietly kept the medicine and a glass of water next to him on the table. She sat beside him and caressed his temple.

"You look so cute when you are asleep" she said softly.

"I know " he replied, with his eyes closed.

She frowned and hit him on the forehead.

"Kim Saram! Don't put on an act, get up and take your medicine if you are awake. "

He smiled and held her hand, slowly sitting up.

"But I haven't eaten anything.."

"That's why I made you something. Eat it. Have medicine and take rest."

"Ah.." he looked at the breakfast kept next to him. ".. that is what my wife would do...wait ...is that a proposal? I say Yes .. lets get married today?" He exclaimed.

She pushed him back with a shy smile.

"Just do what I said"

He frowned at her and unwillingly went ahead to have his breakfast, but it felt terrible to sit and eat. He felt dizzy and lethargic.

"Ah.. i don't want to eat Dong Kyung.. can't i just sleep?? This feels so terrible.." he complained .

She immediately took the plate in her hand and started feeding him herself.

He smirked and happily took a bite without question. Was there any point saying No to her?

"If you don't eat, how will you get better? Don't you know .. Doctor??" She mocked.

He chuckled and continued to take bites, without moving his eyes away from her face. He couldn't thank the Goddess enough for letting him see her again.

After she was done, she handed over a tablet and a glass of water to him.

"Have this. I'll be back " she said before leaving with the plates.

By the time she returned, she had expected him to be done with the medicine, but she found him sitting and staring at the tablet instead.

"What ? " She asked.

He looked up at her with an innocent smile.

"I haven't taken a tablet ever before... does it pain?" He asked.

Dong Kyung chuckled.

"Haven't you seen your patients take it? Do they cry?"

"No"

"Then just swallow it with water. It doesn't hurt" she said, smiling at him.

"What if it gets stuck in my throat? Will I die ?"

"It won't. Just gulp it down."

"Okay.." he nodded and took the tablet as if it was the biggest stunt of his whole life.

"Goshh! How could you be a doctor.?" She wondered.

"Aaachooo" he suddenly sneezed and felt shocked. " What was that " he said to himself.

"Aaa.. I see.. you got wet in the rain last night didn't you? Now you're sneezing." Dong Kyung explained.

"Woah! It felt weird.. it was so sudden.. is that how you feel when u sneeze ??" He asked.

Dong Kyung laughed seeing him experience all such things for the first time in his life. She somehow felt satisfied that he was totally a human now.

She carefully made him lie down on the bed and sat next to him with a piece of cloth and bowl of water.

"What are you doing?" He asked.

"It will help to get your fever down quicker" she said.

"I know that. But you don't have to do it  .. I am fine. Aachooo! ......Yaaa! ....That feels bad" he said.

She giggled and continued to wet the cloth and put it on his head until his fever was down. He kept looking at the calmness on her face and felt his pain fade away.

Hardly did he know when he dozed off.

Dong Kyung kept looking at his innocent face and recalled how he used to be few months ago. How he was simply existing, neither alive nor dead. But today he was living and experiencing everything he had ever wanted.

She quietly walked to the other side of his bed and laid down next to him, running her fingers through his soft hair.

"I love you so much..." she whispered and shut her eyes, feeling his cheeks against her palm.

He felt better when he opened his eyes after having a good rest. He still felt a bit weak but mostly fine. He tried to move his head when he realized that someone was sleeping cuddled up in his arms.

He could feel her silky hair touching his chin when he looked down. She was sleeping peacefully against his chest and in his embrace. He couldn't help but smile and blush.

"You're so small.." he chuckled, and caressed her head.

She moved her head up slowly and spoke with her eyes half open.

"Are you feeling better ?"

"Yes ...with you in my arms, I feel way better " he said.

She felt shy and immediately tried to get herself out if his grip but he held her back.

"Don't go..I'm sick.." he said, but his look was rather intense than mischievous.

She felt a familiar tension in the air with the fire he had in his eyes and unknowingly approached his lips. Without wasting a second, he kissed her back gently.

She wrapped her arms tighter around him and he brushed his fingers on her cheeks. They kissed for a while and parted.

Dong Kyung was left flustered, while Saram smiled satisfactorily. He turned around and picked up the tablets kept next to his bed.

Handing over the tablets to her he spoke.

"Now you'll need this too ..." he chuckled.

"Just shut up. Creep! Why did you kiss me ?" She complained.

"I kissed you?? You approached first..."

"No..what do you mean ..?"

Their kisses might last for seconds, but their bickering knows no end.

A/N : That's all folks. I hope I did not bore you ☹ Sorry if there were silly mistakes 🥲 Didn't proof read it 😶 I wanted to write more but my office people are cruel 💔💔 I wish I could make it better, but that all I could do this time 😅 Thanks @dizistyles for the suggestion, I loved writing this. 💙

[teaboot]

Hey I just wanted to ask you something I don't know if its personal so maybe I'll start with me, my psychiatrist told me that I have asperger's syndrome and like my mom keeps asking me like what does that means because I think she sees people with autism as stupid and I'm at the top of my class so she feels like it's a mistake, I personally go mute for months sometimes except for like oral tests, and idk I forget about having a body and so I hit onto walls when I'm focused on something but *

"...*is not so exaggerated like I'm pretty functional I just forget that there are walls and doors and that I can't just transport me to the other room or so,I mean I feel like I'm just trying to find what my "weird or autistic" traits are to justify the diagnosis,I didn't asked my psychiatrist to elaborate on that and so I was wondering, what would you say that your autistic traits are?Also just in case,I know that autistic people can be hella smart and I think that you are really wise I admire you"

Thank you so much, that's very sweet of you to say!

Honestly, I'm sort of in a similar situation- My parents' reaction was to say, "you're too smart to be autistic" or, "Everyone of ~your intelligence~ is a little weird in the head, anyways", and then. Expect me to live up to all the positive stereotypes without ever getting bogged down by the negative realities?

This might not be very helpful at all of me to say, but as an adult who grew up in a rather unpleasant environment, there really isn't much help for a number of things except getting old and independant enough to move out, and then just accepting that their perception of reality isn't open to negotiation. You can try debating it, or meeting them on common ground with scientific basis, but in my case....

....well. There's just some things I now know not to talk about at family gatherings.

I'm sorry, I know that's probably not very helpful or heartening to hear. 

As for my personal grab bag of symptoms? I tend to hyperfocus on personal projects. When I'm really invested in an art piece, I often forget to eat or sleep or drink, and the only way I've learned to snap out of that is that if my hands are shaking or I'm falling over a lot, I probably need to eat something and lay down for a while, because otherwise- and yeah, not the healthiest motivator- otherwise I might start fucking up my hard work.

I also get overwhelmed by overlapping noises- if two people are talking at once, even if one is on a radio or TV show, I can't hear either of them and it stresses the shit out of me. White noise, like in malls or assemblies, also tends to burn my energy pretty fast.

Things like leaf blowers, people whistling indoors, and emergency sirens are physically painful. Repetitive noises like a bouncing rubber ball, sniffling, dogs licking things, and low-frequency vibrations from massage chairs, earthquakes, distant bass music, and some fluorescent lighting systems are impossible to ignore, which ranges from irritating to distressing, depending on my headspace du jour.

I hate bland food with a passion. It tends to make me nauseaus. I like lots of spice, lots of sugar, lots of sour and hot and acidic. I love strong flavours, and if I'm cooking for friends and family I often have to remind myself to tone down the seasonings for them.

Some textures make me genuinely ill, too- most types of meat, fat, and other animal bits result in.... Bad times for all. Polyester towels suck ass. Microfiber cloth. Thick cotton knit material. Any fabric covering my forearms. Thin, elastic denim. Vinyl. Polar fleece.

On the flip side, I looooove woven cotton blankets. Cotton sheets, cotton bedding- cold, heavy duvets are good, too. Acrylic, so long as it doesn't get damp. I have.... Perhaps a little bit of a problem here, as I do... Maybe, possibly, get a little impulsive with buying rugs, throws, and blankets when I come across one that feels right.

All my cups and bowls are handmade out of clay. I'm OK with smooth ceramics, but stoneware feels happy in my hands. I think of it as a treat, like packing a bit of chocolate with my lunch, or eating a whole bag of popcorn by myself. Again, I.... May go a little overboard when I come across A nice-feeling piece of dishware.

Basically, from what I understand, a lot of folks on the spectrum are under and over stimulated by various sensory inputs.

Me, I gravitate towards taste, inertia, tactile sensation, temperature, and dark lighting, while I find myself avoiding, limiting, or minimizing sound, light, color, oral texture, and smell.

As for more stereotyped behaviors, I find organizing things such as legal documents, filing cabinets, paint swatches, hardware, coins, stones, or colors to be very soothing and almost meditative. I go through special interests fairly often, and have been 'into' things like animals, insects, natural history, and art since before I could walk. I can't explain why they're such alluring subjects, they just make me happy.

I didn't realize until recently that I do stim, as well- I rock, sway, growl, swish water around, hang upside-down, rotate my thumbs, rub fabric, twirl coins, and flex my hands. I also (rarely) seem compelled to jump up and down in circles very fast when I'm particularly excited, or flap my arms against my sides like a penguin.

When I'm overstimulated, I go.... I'm not sure if you could call it 'nonverbal'. I get the feeling I COULD speak, it's just.... Overwhelmingly difficult. Usually I find a dark space or a corner away from people, put a coat or something over my head, cover my ears, close my eyes... Sometimes deliberate eye contact is hard, or I can't say more than one or two words at a time, or I find myself relying more on a hum or a grunt to communicate that I'm listening.

It... Probably all sounds weird to a neurotypical who may be reading, but I'm perfectly happy with myself as I am. I wouldn't change it if I could, except perhaps to minimize some of the more irritating things.

Mostly, my biggest peeve is being treated like a cool new pet or accessory. "Oh, this is my person with Autism- they're great at cleaning, you should get one!"- yeah, that can fuck right off. I'm right here, I can hear you, I'm a person. A little respect goes a long way.

But, whoops, here I've gone on a ramble- you want the best advice I have, though? Become comfortable with the person you are. Accept and seek out what things bring you happiness. Don't get hung up on the negatives. Love your experience, if you can, and don't worry about validating anything- you are who you are, and the words we use to explain ourselves fall so, so short when faced with the complexity of our individual existence.

The way I see it, the day before your diagnosis is the same as today, you just have one more tool to understand yourself with. The decision of how and if you choose to explain this to those around you is entirely yours to decide! 

I know this kind of went off the rail of your question. My answers are a little limited. I hope I could help anyways! Good luck!!

[oxnardsart]

I don’t think I posted this old chapter up but I made new art for it, so I get to anyway right??

---

    Another day dawned on the Boxer Beats competition! Foxie was pretty nervous, she had another match today, and was worried about what her girlfriend was thinking after their last encounter.     “Heyyyyy Foxie...” Lesbuni gave an awkward wave to her, still keeping two open seats for Foxie and her guard. Clearly things felt a little weird, but Lesbuni was still being nice. “Sorry about last night. I was kinda... confused.”     “Oh, that’s okay... hehe, what’s confusing about a fox dressing up as a fox?”     “Well, I’ve never seen it before, not from you. Are you a fruit suiter?”     Foxie shook her head, “No. Uh, I’m a fox suiter... I guess. He’s just a character I made up and pretend to be sometimes. I think it’s harmless...”     “He?” Lesbuni didn’t like the sound of that.     “Yeeeah...” Foxie sighed. “It’s just pretend. It’s not like I’m really a guy or want to be one or anything.” But Foxie thought on it a bit... she liked being Anomaly a lot... she didn’t even mind being a guy. It was kind of fun and different!     “I’m sorry to worry about you...” Lesbuni thought, “I’m just worried about you.”     “It’s fine, it’s a performance!” Foxie wanted to start sticking up for herself, “Actually, today I’m gonna bring my performance on stage, in the ring!”     “You’re what!?”

    “Laaaaaadies and gentlehams, introducing a brand new boxer!”     The audience cheered in surprise, very curious about the new challenger.     “Hey, that’s not fair!” From the center of the boxing ring, an elephant yelled up at the announcer booth, “You can’t just add new people in the middle of a tournament. The rest of us worked really hard to win.” He had a point.     “We didn’t add anyone new - one of our boxers became someone new!” Oxnard gleamed, the audience now confused. “You may recognize the face of this handsome foxy performer, but everything else should look different. Heeeere’s Anomaly!”     A white fox cartwheeled on stage, raising his hands to the cheering crowd. “Howdy folks!” The top hat-toting, tutu-wearing fancy pants aimed their cane up in the air and sent up an explosion to start things off with a blast. The crowd panicked for their safety, and they loved it!         Anomaly walked on stage and greeted the big elephant with a poke of his tummy, making it jiggle on screen. The self-conscious giant covered his belly with a blush.     “Guess what kind of boxing battle we’re having today?” Anomaly asked out loud.     “What kind? What kind?” the host of the competition asked, quite excited, clueless about his own competition.     “Today, we’re having a circus battle,” Anomaly cheered. Oh boy! The crowd came for a boxing competition, and they got a circus as a bonus.     “I hope there aren’t any clowns,” the host frowned through the microphone.     Anomaly reassured the hamster, “Just me! No big red noses in sight.”     Somewhere off in the distance, Don Badge coughed quietly.     The white faux-furred fox flumped up on top of the elephant, standing on his head with grace. “H-Hey, get off my head! This isn’t fair, I’m not a circus elephant.”     “You are now, tubby. This is Boxer Beats! If you can’t keep up, say goodbye to your butt.” Anomaly’s cane shot out a whip, and he used it to whap the elephant’s tushy, causing him to dance about and rub his stinging rump.     “Hey! ...I could start to like that. But I won’t admit it,” admitted the elephant. “You’re not winning this one.” He tried to reach on top of his head, but his thick, chunky arms kept him from touching the very top.     “You’re coming down RIGHT NOW.” The elephant used his trunk and tried to grab for Anomaly’s ankle in an attempt to pull him down. The graceful performer couldn’t be caught. He then started to shake his head to make the fox fall, but the speakers started to play some circus-themed vaporwave nightcore dubstep music - making it look like the angry elephant was dancing on stage.     “Look at him go!” The audience cheered, enjoying their day at the circus.     Anomaly had been in control the whole match. Mr. Elephant didn’t stand a chance. In one final effort to catch the crazy fox, he folded his arms, “Okay, I lose.”     Anomaly wasn’t sure he believed it. “You lose? You’re giving up?”     The elephant nodded, “Uh huh.” Anomaly was quiet. The elephant didn’t seem completely convincing...     “Okay folks, you heard ‘im. I’m comin’ down.” The elephant could feel little paws on his back as Anomaly crawled down. This was his chance, he slammed himself backwards on the ground to squish Anomaly under him. The crowd gasped!     “Oh my gosh, Anomaly!” Oxnard cried over the microphone, watching the fox disappear behind the giant elephant’s body.     “Aaaaaaaahhhh!”     It wasn’t Anomaly making that noise... it was the elephant!     Depending on where you were sitting made all the difference - Oxnard saw the elephant from the front as he fell backwards - but the people behind the elephant watched the truth poke up right between his cheeks. Anomaly didn’t get squished at all - he used his paws to pat along his back and slid his cane underneath the large mammal. He sat right on top of it as Anomaly rolled off behind him to safety.     “You can keep the cane, elephant man, I don’t wanna touch that one anymore.” The spry fox hopped on his big gray belly, and started counting. “A one, a two, a one-two-three!”     As Anomaly counted his victory, he pulled up a new cane from out of nowhere and raised it to the ceiling - confetti exploded out from the top, followed by tiny white doves flying out in the air! How the heck did they manage all this?     The cameras zoomed in on Anomaly, his chest beating and bouncing with each breath, the fox had put a lot of energy into his performance, and was looking out to the crowd in victory.     “You did it! Great job Anomaly, you made it to another round. We’re getting closer to the end. Hoo baby, what a performance.” The hamster announcer praised the fox over the microphone, “Thanks for the fun trip to the circus, I sure enjoyed it. How about all of you?”     The crowd went nuts, clapping, screaming, a few bras were thrown on stage. Anomaly blushed, “Thank you, thank you all! See you again, yes yes?” The fox pranced on back to the entrance, waving happily to everyone.     Reality set in, Anomaly saw the prison guard waiting for Foxie... and suddenly, he felt like her again. A mental shift, a shift in gender, a shift in personal lives. One moment, this fox was a charming performer getting bras thrown at him from ladies he’d never met - and now she was just a girl playing pretend, going from the stage back to jail. An extreme high to an extreme low.     The high felt amazing, but Foxie wasn’t sure if the depression to follow would be worth it.