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#those things are like indestructible

girlwiththegreenhat · 1 month

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i genuinely love when you can tell an older show was Not made with high quality video viewing in mind. i am watching knight rider and constantly seeing all the little mistakes they surely brushed under the rug thinking nobody would see them on their crunchy little CRTs back in the 80s, that are huge attention grabbers now in HD fullscreen on my 3 foot computer monitor

the biggest one of course is all the drivers/controllers for the (in-universe) self driving car, kitt. there's guys tucked down in the footwells who can't always stay out of the shot. there's a guy who has a Car Seat Suit to blend in and look like the drivers seat from a distance, but you can always tell when that's the method they're using for a particular shot because its so much thicker than the passenger seat next to it and the headrest is missing it's cutout section. in at least one instance he starts taking the suit off too early, on a focus shot of the damn car, so its REAL visible.

all the extremely obvious stunt drivers or performers who look nothing like the character they're supposed to be

props, such as animals, vanishing from the car interior for stunt/race sequences.

the production crew (or their shadows) being visible in the background. only at a glance, but its especially hilarious in shots where nobody else is supposed to be around

the camera panning out from a sound stage set far enough that you can actually see over the edges of the set and into the stage they were filming in. mostly this happens with their truck trailer mobile unit thing.

this one isn't a mistake but every time the car "turbo jumps" they CLEARLY hide the ramp behind another car, a prop, the environment, and its just. so charming. sometimes its blatantly on screen just for a moment. like... of Course in real life this car isn't magically leaping 20 feet, of course its a ramp, but it's still so silly and fun to be reminded of how they were doing those stunts to begin with.

also not really a mistake but related, the bracket they keep on the front of the car for stunt work.... is just left on half the time. cuz it's a pain to take on and off.

and there are more examples that are more unique that haven't cemented themselves in my head well yet, but these are the more notable or common things i see and it's really charming. if i'm not giggling to myself noticing the "seams" and flaws and so human imperfections of your show or movie what EVEN is the point. hollywood is too flashy these days i think!

#liz blogs #knight rider #kr #tv production #1980s #television #i dont even know if this is a 'older tv' thing or if its just a knight rider thing because i've seen all of classic columbo at this point #and i think i can think of... maybe one or two times you saw the edges of a sound stage room. and thats it #i dont know Why its like this i dont know how common it is for shows of the era but i love it to bits. cannot get through an episode #with somebody without pointing out the quirky little things i notice.#y'know what hollywood really can burn there is such a great backlog of media to watch #i need to gif that guy pulling off his Seat Costume in the MIDDLE of the SHOT. that was so fucking funny. my favorite blooper so far #a lot of these have to do with kitt bc he IS a prop but its extremely funny how hard they push the 'HES INDESTRUCTIBLE' thing #and every other boost landing has the car looking like its gonna snap in fucking half like a twig. got some ROUGH landings #i wanna know how many stunt kitts they went through they really beat the shit outta those cars sometimes #i think if this show were free on streaming like columbo way more people on this site would like it it is a weirdly charming little show

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lamuradex · 3 months

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It's been rattling around my head recently that Discworld is almost anti-whimsy, and I mean that in a good way.

Whimsy, as I define it, is when something magical is put in just to wow the reader. A magic thing that doesn't really effect the story, but its fantastical. Pots cleaning themselves? Moving paintings? A fantastical creature used as set dressing? A spell that does something cool but we'll never hear about it again? What do they mean? Why are they there? Doesn't matter, we're moving on.

But Discworld always applies Logic to these things.

e.g. The old idea of all dwarfs having beards? Ha ha, even the women have beards. How silly.

But that means all dwarfs are men. But there are female dwarfs, right? Are they happy being men? What if you gave one the chance not to be a man? Oh, sure, they'd still have the beard, the helmet, the axe, those are cultural, but what if a dwarf wanted to be a woman? How would other dwarfs react? Would there be biting insults? Snide remarks? Jealousy from other female dwarfs trapped in their society? What if the Low King were a woman? What then?

Pratchett always had this tenacity to follow a whimsical idea until it was ground down in its own grim reality. It's like those old conversations about what would really happen if Superman caught you falling from a high building. You'd smash on his arms because you're still hitting something indestructible at terminal velocity. But the comics would never show that.

Pratchett shows that.

Introduces a werewolf? She has a constant identity crisis and feels like a dog sometimes, between human and wolf, and she's discriminated against in places for being undead. A conman running a bank? Forces everyone to realise how useless gold really is in a scathing indictment of economics. Death becomes Santa? But WHY DOES THE LITTLE MATCH GIRL NEED TO DIE? WHY THE UNFAIRNESS IN THE WORLD? WHY?

What can the harvest hope for, if not the care of the Reaper Man?

It's what sets these stories apart from so many others. Magic is never the solution, reality is usually the solution. And little is introduced without Pratchett delving the idea to its depths, sooner or later.

#gnu terry pratchett #discworld #pterry

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kizzer55555 · 19 days

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DP x DC: The Most Dangerous Card Game

Ok so Danny has essentially claimed earth as his. And he is fully aware that there are constant threats to the planet. Now he can’t stop a threat that originates on earth (that’s something he’ll leave to the Justice league) but he can do something about outside threats. Doing some research on ancient spells, rituals, and artifacts, he cast a world wide barrier on the planet to protect it from hostile threats so they cannot enter. This will prevent another Pariah Dark incident. However, barriers like this come at a price. You see, there are two ways to make a barrier. Either make one powered up by your own energy and power (which would be constantly draining) or set up a barrier with rules. The way magic works is that nothing can be absolutely indestructible. It must have a weakness. The most powerful barriers weren’t the ones reinforced with layer after layer of protective charms and buffed up with power. Those could eventually be destroyed either by being overpowered, wearing them down, or by cutting off the original power source. No, the most powerful barriers were the ones with a deliberate weakness. A barrier indestructible except for one spot. A cage that can only be opened from the outside. Or that can only be passed with a key or by solving a riddle. So Danny chooses this type of barrier and does the necessary ritual and pours in enough power to make it. And he adds his condition for anyone to enter.

Now the Justice league? Find out about the barrier when Trigon attempts to attack, they were preparing after he threatened what he would do once he got to earth. How he would destroy them. The Justice league tried to take the fight to him first but were utterly destroyed, so they retreated home to tend to their injuries, and fortify earth for one. Last. Stand. Only when Trigon makes his big entrance…he’s stopped.

The Justice league watch in awe as this thin see-through barrier with beautiful green swirls and speckled white lights like stars apears blocking Trigon and his army’s advance. The barrier looks so thin and fragile yet no matter how hard the warlord hits, none of his attacks can get through and neither can he damage said barrier. That’s when Constantine and Zatanna recognizes what this barrier is. Something only a powerful entity could create. For a moment, the league is filled with hope that Trigon can’t get through yet Constantine also explains that it’s not impenetrable. And clearly Trigon knows this too for he calls out a challenge.

And that’s when, in a flash of light, a tiny glowing teenager appears. He looked absolutly minuscule compared to Trigon and yet practically glowed with power (this isn’t a King Danny AU though).

And that is when the conditions for passing the barrier are revealed. And the Justice realize that the only thing stopping Trigon and his army from decimating earth. The only way he can get through….is by beating this glowing teenager in a card game.

Not just any card game though. The most convoluted game Sam, Danny, and Tucker invented themselves. It’s like the infinite realms version of magic the gathering, combined with Pokémon, and chess. And Danny is the master. So sit down Trigon and let’s play.

(The most intense card game of the Justice league’s life).

After Danny wins, this happens a few more times with outer word beings and possibly even demons attempting to invade earth, yet none have been able to beat the mysterious teenager in a card game. Constantine might even take a crack at it and try to figure out how to play. He’s really bad though. Every time this happens, the Justice league worry that this might be the time the teenager looses. Yet every time, he wins (even if only barely).

Meanwhile, Danny, Sam, and Tucker have gotten addicted to the game and play it almost daily. Some teachers might seem them playing the game are are like ‘awww how cute’ not realizing this game is literally saving the world. Jazz is just happy they aren’t spending as much time on their screens playing Doomed.

#DPxDC #dcxdp #Danny makes a card game to save the world.#Technically he worded the ritual so that they had to ‘beat’ him as those are the most powerful barriers and most reliable.#keys can just get lost or stolen (like the one to Pariah’s Coffin)#A riddle would be useless once someone figured out the answer. Like how no one takes the sphynx seriously anymore.#(Sorry Tuck. But it’s true).#And there is NO WAY Danny is just leaving a hole open for anyone to pass through. No thank you!#So…beating him. But it’s not like Danny wanted to fight so…he edited the ritual a TINY bit. Card games are good. Much less painful too.#Danny Tucker and Sam made the most complicated card game they could imagine.#It’s based on their strategies for fighting ghosts. Capturing them in thermoses. And MUCH based on a on field battle strategy.#It often requires spontaneous thinking on the spot. So Danny? In his ELEMNT. It doubles as practice for his actual ghost battles too.#They had SO much fun making this.#Sam added an entire series of plant cards that act as traps and healing ointments and duds that just take up the field.#Tucker added legitimate hyroglyphics combined with Latin as well as English and ghost speak.#Yes. You actually have to speak that language to play. With proper pronunciation. (Amity Parker’s think the three are talking gibberish.)#I headcanon Sam and Tucker are fluent in Ghost.#Constantine WILL figure this game out SO HELP HIM!#Some of the cards also have combinations related to constellations either in name or placement on the board.#By the way the board is based on a Hexagonal summoning circle with Rhunes along the edges #And the placement of the cards on the board and on what rhune MATTERS.#Also the cards move disintegrate and have certain abilities. Think of Harry Potter Wizard Chess.#But they are normal when Danny plays at school. This is just for ✨effect✨ Against invaders.#Danny faces multiple opponents. He also halts alien invasions.#While Danny COULD stop crime on earth he’s not sure how to fight a normal human and hold back so he sticks to ghosts.#The Justice league are going crazy trying to figure out who this entity is and after deep research are convinced this is some sort of #Ancient being who has protected earth for millenia. They have paintings on ruins and everything.#Danny is not aware they think this.#Raven starts praying to Danny as if he is a god and wrangles the other Teen Titans into doing so as well. Danny is still unaware of this.#Danny is not a King or an ancient. Just a very VERY strong ghost.

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dollfacefantasy · 7 months

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Hold My Calls

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader

summary: you teasing leon about his flip phone leads to some fun

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, oral (f receiving), fucking during a phone call, age gap, daddy kink, praise/degradation, over-stimulation

word count: 2.9k

a/n: hey everyone school is kicking my ass rn, but i am back with another one. thank you so much for the support on my last post that meant the world to me. i don't care if this is not technologically accurate or whatever just let me be delusional in peace. as always comments and reblogs are appreciated and i will give you special smooches in return <3 also thank you too my loves @tosuckmyweenis @kaitkatme @chasingkennedy @explorevenus @sleepyluxe @death-paint @petitecolibri for helping me come up with ideas for this one and/or beta reading - ily all sm :)

When you started dating Leon Kennedy, obviously you knew there was an age gap. You figured it wasn’t a big deal. He’s only thirty-six. That isn’t that much older. And for the most part, that was true. The difference in years never seemed to play a huge part in how you loved each other. But there was one thing that reminded you of this man’s age.

He had a fucking flip phone.

Honestly, it didn’t even say much about his age. It highlighted his stubbornness. He was not incompetent. His job had him working with all kinds of shit that you didn’t even try to understand, so it’s not like he can’t work a smartphone. He just doesn’t want to.

It didn’t really matter. If anything, it was kind of cute. The way he fumbled with the buttons that were too small for his fingers. The loud chiming ringtone that he would grumble about yet never turn down. The sight of him trying to find the right distance to hold the phone away from his face so he could read the font. You had heart eyes on your first date when this man popped in a CD because he couldn’t use the aux with his flip phone. They were simple quirks, but they were just so endearing to you. You’d tease him about being outdated, and he’d put up with it cause it was you.

“Why do I need anything more? This thing can call you, and that’s all I really need,” he’d say with a teasing expression when you’d crack a joke.

You’d roll your eyes at the excessive charm, but you couldn’t help smiling. “Yeah, but-”

And he’d cut you off with a kiss. “Trust me. I like it. It’s simple. Plus it’s like indestructible. But if I ever want an upgrade, you’ll be the first to know.”

The only time Leon ever considered ditching his trusty flip phone and upgrading to something more advanced was when you would send him nudes. Seeing the masterpiece that is your body reduced to a handful of pixels on the tiny screen drove him fucking wild. Upon hearing the chime of his phone and seeing the small image of you gracing his screen, he’d find a moment alone to try and see the details. He’d hold the phone two inches away from his face trying to make out every last curve. Days when he got those pictures ended with nights where you got fucked on every surface in the house.

He’d come home from work, his eyes full of lust before he even saw you. You’d glide into the room with a knowing smile on your face. You wanted him just as bad as he wanted you.

“Hi, baby. How was work?” you ask, feigning innocence. You close the distance between the two of you and wrap your arms around him.

“Oh, you care about my work now, huh?” he asks, a smirk creeping onto his face as his arms return your embrace, “Doesn’t seem like it when you send me those cute pictures during the day, distracting me, making me think about you when I should be focused.”

Your lips part and your eyebrows raise in mock offense. “I only send those to help you, motivate you,” you tease as your fingers coast along his biceps, “Maybe if you had a real phone they wouldn’t bother you so much. You’d be able to see everything clearly and not be left imagining.”

“I don’t need to stress about pictures though when I got the real thing waiting at home for me every night,” he purrs as he leans in and starts kissing you.

You return the kiss with the same level of passion, lips moving with his as the two of you stumble over to the couch. You fall back onto the cushions with Leon on top of you. His hands already roam your body and begin removing articles of clothing. He wasn’t in the mood to take his time after having that grainy image of you gnawing at his mind all day.

“Fuck, baby. Every time… I can never get enough,” he grunts as he yanks your top over your head and tosses it to the side. His hands rub up and down your sides, the rough pads of his fingers dragging over your sensitive skin and making you squirm. In no time though, they’re on your breasts. He kneads the plump flesh as his lips trail down to your neck and collarbone, leaving a trail of saliva-coated skin in their wake.

He’s all over you all at once it seems. It’s overwhelming in the best way. You’re moaning and writhing on the couch, nearly trying to hump his leg while one of your hands tugs at his hair. You bite your lip and whimper as his lips move down over the swell of your chest.

He grabs your hips firmly and presses them down to the couch. His half-lidded eyes look up at you momentarily. “Quit squirming,” he breathes. He gives your chest a few more kisses while keeping his eyes locked with yours. “Need time with my pretty girl after I’ve been aching for her all day.”

You give a weak nod and focus on controlling your movements as he tugs your shorts off and drops them.

“Good girl,” he mutters before attaching his lips to one of your nipples and swirling his tongue around the peak. He hums in satisfaction as he feels the bud in his mouth. His fingers lazily stroke up and down your folds over your panties. He disconnects his mouth momentarily and looks up at you again with a smirk on his face.

“So wet already?” he teases, now being his turn to look smug, “You want me just as bad, don’t you? That’s why you send those pictures right? You’re missing Daddy while he’s at work?”

“Mhm, miss you so bad. It drives me crazy,” you say. A whimper escapes you as his fingers apply more pressure and his movements more strategically target your clit.

“I can tell. Makes you act like a little slut, huh?” he asks before he kisses down your stomach to the hem of your panties.

You feel your face getting hot at his comment, but you nod anyway. You bite your lip and keep your eyes locked with his.

He chuckles at your timid confirmation. “That’s ok, honey. Daddy’s here now. I’m gonna make sure you get all the attention you need. Can’t have my girl left wanting,” he says, pulling down your panties and putting them with your other discarded clothes.

He loops his arms around your thighs and pulls you closer so that you’re angled in a way he can reach you from his position on his knees. Your back is flat on the couch, and your legs are held over his shoulders. He doesn’t waste time, licking a stripe up your cunt and then delving his tongue inside of you.

Your head falls back onto the cushion in response. A moan escapes your throat at the sensation. Your sounds only increase in frequency and volume as he grips you tighter and fucks his tongue in and out of you. He watches you, relishing how he can pleasure you with so few touches. His tongue laps up your wetness and his mouth finds your clit again, sucking and flicking against the bundle of nerves just how you like.

His name and a variety of expletives leave your mouth while your hand slides into his hair and holds the blonde locks. Your hips twitch from the rising feelings of ecstasy in your tummy, but Leon’s hands keep you firmly in place. He devours you like a starved man, the hours of torture that little picture inflicted on him all paying off right now.

He’s skillfully swirling patterns onto your clit and occasionally exploring your insides. He knows you’re close because he can feel the way you’re pulsing and hear the way your moans and whines reach that slightly higher pitch. It only makes him work with more dedication.

“That’s right, sweetheart. C’mon, give it to Daddy. Let me taste it,” he grunts as he continues working you to the edge.

You cry out, your thighs quivering and your hips bucking as you succumb to release. You’re moaning with abandon, fingers clutching his hair as tight as possible. He groans into you from the sight in front of him.

You ride the high and he continues with his mouth throughout. When you reach the seeming conclusion, your chest is heaving and your limbs feel heavy, but Leon doesn’t stop. He continues on as if you were still on the way to your climax instead of coming down.

“Too much,” you whimper as your hips jerk and your hands make a weak attempt to push his head away, “Daddy, please.”

“Daddy, please?” he mocks with a laugh, “But this is what you wanted, babydoll. You wanted my attention, didn’t you?”

You whine, hips still squirming as your retort dies in your throat. It felt euphoric, it was just so much. This was what you wanted though.

“That’s what I thought,” he says before burying his face between your thighs again.

He continues eating you out until you’re an absolute mess. Your eyes are rolling back, nonstop whimpers fall from your lips, and your twitching thighs are clamped around Leon’s head. It was what he’d been wanting to see since he’d heard that chime in his back pocket.

“I’m gonna cum,” you slur. Your head felt cloudy from the numerous orgasms he’d brought you. A strangled cry tears through you as your body moves like it’s possessed. You convulse on the couch while his mouth makes you see stars for the umpteenth time.

Tears prick at your eyes from the intensity of your release, and finally, he starts easing off of you. He pulls your thighs off of his head and leans back. He wipes his chin that’s coated in your slick and licks his fingers. Seeing that alone has you clench around nothing which in turn spreads a smirk on his face.

“Good girl, baby,” he coos, planting a kiss on your inner thigh, “You did so well. I’m proud of you.”

He stands up from his knees, grunting as he gets to his feet and taking a moment to stretch. You can tell the extended amount of time in the position put some strain on him. Your lips curl into a small smile while adoration fills your hazy eyes.

“Your joints locking up on you, old man?” you tease with a quiet laugh.

“Don’t start,” he says, trying to sound stern, but you can see him suppressing his own smile, “Especially since I know you want more.”

That shuts you up because he’s right. He shakes his head and makes a mock sound of disappointment.

“I know you, baby. My dirty girl. Made you cum how many times, and you still want more,” he says. He begins stripping off his clothes into a pile next to yours. “My little whore would never turn down a chance to take my cock.”

Once his clothes are off, he languidly strokes himself a few times and climbs on top of you. He peppers some kisses on your face and starts to slide inside you. You were more than ready but still sensitive from the recent series of highs.

“Don’t worry, sweet girl. I’ll get you full of my cum in no time. Fuck all that neediness right out,” he murmurs into your ear, his breath on you sending chills down your spine.

You mewl and tighten around him in more ways than one. Your arms cling to his torso that hovers above you while your walls squeeze around him to take him deeper. He grunts and his head falls forward a little as he feels sparks of pleasure in his abdomen.

“There you go, angel. Taking me so perfect. My pretty girl. Made for me,” he says into your ear as he sinks into you completely.

You nod mindlessly, your head fogging up again as he fills you. He presses sloppy kisses to your neck as he starts pumping in and out. You’re both breathing heavily and allowing the pleasure to take over. One of your hands slides to his hair to rub his head while his hips snap against you.

He’s falling into the perfect rhythm with you, one that’s driving you both toward the goal line, when suddenly you hear a muffled guitar strum coming from the floor. Leon groans and you burst into laughter as you hear the ringtone you had set for him as a joke.

His movements get weaker as his focus is drawn elsewhere, but he doesn’t stop rocking his hips. He reaches down to the floor where his phone is ringing in the pocket of his crumpled pants. He fishes it out and shifts so he’s kneeling while drilling into you.

He holds the phone up and squints to read the tiny caller ID on the flip phone which makes you laugh harder through moans. He smirks at your laughter and clamps a hand over your mouth. “Shut up, I gotta take this,” he says teasingly.

He whips open the phone, the maneuver causing you to moan and squeeze around him again. He winces at the sensation, nearly unable to restrain himself from giving into his carnal urges to groan and slam into you harder.

Your eyes widen as he brings the phone to his ear without stopping his hips and in the most monotonous voice says “Kennedy here.”

It’s good that his hand is over your mouth to keep you quiet. The contrast of his movements and that voice have the sparks of pleasure igniting into flames in your belly. Seeing how he handles his dumbass flip phone so smoothly has your arousal nearly pooling on the couch.

He listens to the call while grinning at you struggling to keep yourself somewhat under control. “Uh-huh. Yeah. Sounds about right,” he drones as the person on the other end goes on and on.

His strokes are just as deep as before, nudging you in the perfect spots repeatedly. Your eyes roll back as you feel yourself getting near the peak. A soft whimper escapes you, loud enough to pierce the barrier of Leon’s hand. His hips sputter at the noise and his face contorts. He lets out a quiet grunt but quickly catches himself before losing it further.

“What? Yeah, I’m listening,” he says, his tone growing a little impatient, “Look, I’m just wrapped up in something right now. Could you not have just told me this before I left?”

You know he’s getting closer himself and struggling to hold back. You can tell from the way his jaw is clenched and his eyes are projecting his rising frustration he has for the person who made this call.

“Yes, I understand. I’ll deal with it tomorrow,” he says, effectively ending the conversation.

Then, to hang up, he doesn’t press a button. Instead, he flicks his wrist and shuts the flip phone with a clack.

You throw your head back against the couch cushion and a loud moan rips through your throat. You shudder as a wave of pleasure courses through you after witnessing something so unexplainably hot.

His eyebrows raise in amusement, noticing how much you enjoyed that. “Hmm, I’m not hearing any complaints about the phone now,” he says. He’s trying to tease, but his voice is husky with arousal. He maintains his grin as he drops the phone to the floor again and returns to his previous position which was closer to you.

“Careful, you’re gonna break it,” you whimper.

“Nah baby, I told you that thing is indestructible,” he breathes and starts pounding you into the couch mercilessly.

You bite your lip and resume clinging to him, your fingers digging into his back. You both are panting, expressions going lax as you focus on chasing the high.

“Daddy, ‘m gonna cum,” you mewl, unable to contain yourself for much longer.

“Go ahead, sweetheart,” he says into your ear, his voice taking on more of a growl, “Daddy’s right there with you. You deserve it for being so good for me. Being nice and quiet while I was on the phone.”

As soon as you have permission, you give into another release. Your legs shake and your arms cling to him tighter as the euphoria shoots through you. You’re gasping for air and whining while squirming beneath him. Soon it’s just too much for Leon. He tightens his grip on you and slams deep before groaning and draining himself inside of you.

He rocks in and out a few more times before slowly pulling out. He then sits up on the couch and sinks back into the cushions. You follow by sitting up as well and curling up against his side. He pulls you into his lap, stroking your hair away from your face and kissing your forehead. The two of you sit in comfortable silence for a while until he gazes down at you with a smug look in his eyes.

“I knew the flip phone was a turn-on,” he says, clearly pleased with himself.

You scoff. “It is not. It was just… it was the situation,” you defend.

“Sure, but you were tightest when I was messing with the phone,” he says knowingly.

“That doesn’t mean anything.”

He laughs at your stubbornness and gives you another kiss. “You can admit it, baby. I won’t judge. Really, if you like it that much, maybe I’ll show you how strong it can vibrate later.”

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy smut #resident evil imagines #leon kennedy imagine #resident evil x reader #resident evil smut #smut

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obae-me · 4 months

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The Reunion We Deserved

I said I would do it and so I did, all in one night, one sitting, fueled by nothing but determination, random inspiration, and spite. I re-wrote and created my version of what I would've liked to see at the end of Nightbringer Season 2. Is this a bit dramatic? Yes? Is this the kind of thing I wanted anyway? Yes. I want sobbing, I want people being pathetic, I want emotion, I want it all. So, if that's what you were hoping to see for lesson 40, I hope this can ease some of that anger we had.

Spoilers ahead for Nightbringer since this is quite literally my "remaking" of the ending, which includes in-game references to later lessons!

TW: Blood mention, injury, angst.

Word Count: 4,391

Tears pricked your eyes as you looked upon the several smiling faces of the demons you had come to care for. At the beginning, all you could think of was returning to your home, your time-line, your brothers. You had coped thus far by constantly reminding yourself that these were not the same people you had come to know. But now… after delving into their souls, reforging the pacts, fleeing down the different circles of hell to save one only to nearly lose them all… they’d found their way into your heart once more. How could you? How could you leave them so easily? And tell them to their faces that you’d meet again soon when you knew it was a lie. It might be soon for you, but it would be nearly an eternity for them. Not to mention that the way Solomon and Barbatos described it, this was almost like another universe… Would another version of you show up for them? Or would you leave these particular brothers for good?…

Feet frozen in sorrow and anxiousness, you could only look at them and cry. What were you feeling in this very second, now that you were on the cusp of what you had worked so hard for? The way back home was right above you, the air and magic inches away from sucking you up into it’s mystical vacuum. Your precious family, your home was one step away. So why did it also feel like your heart was being torn from you? “I—“ Your words choked up in your throat. You were tempted to tell them everything right there and then, spill the burden you had been carrying on your shoulder this entire time.

“It’ll be alright,” Lucifer spoke up, seeing your worry, but exuding nothing but confidence himself. “I gave you my blessing after all.”

“Plus, with the Great Mammon’s pact, you’re hella lucky! You’ll get home with no problems, I’d bet on it! S-So you better not make me lose, got it? Get home safe…and happy.”

Levi shook his head a little. “You’d bet on anything wouldn’t you…” But then he turned his head back towards you, nearly just as bold as Lucifer in this one moment. “If someone like me can have courage, you can too. Don’t worry! You’re just like a Main Character! You have indestructible plot armor!”

“Did everyone already forget the white dragon I helped summon?” Satan scoffed. “Their safety and success is guaranteed. So don’t give us that face,” he addressed you.

“Besides!” Asmo perked up. “If anything happened we’d all come rushing to save you! Just like we did for Lucifer. If we can do that, we can do anything! Oo, I just said something real dashing just now! You better take that to heart, hun!”

Beel nodded several times. “You have Luke’s wish egg too. I also made wishes over my eggs at breakfast this morning. I wished for you to always feel healthy and full and loved. And that we’d get to see each other again soon.”

“Those eggs might’ve tasted magical Beel, but they weren’t really…” Belphie looked up his twin as he shook his head, but then he shrugged, coming to the conclusion that it wasn’t worth explaining. “Hey,” he stared at you. “Don’t waste your energy crying now. You’ll need all your strength for your journey. I won’t forgive you if you leave too sad.”

All their words ended up making you laugh, the smile across your face twitching as you worked to force out trembling words. “You all better be kind to one another.” Someone behind you was tugging on your arm. “And make sure you don’t tease Luke too hard.”

“Come on,” Solomon whispered softly to you, tugging you a little harder, making you take a few steps back. The rift in space-time started to roar, attempting to drown out your voice as you struggled for these last few seconds.

“And make sure you all remember to eat and sleep properly. A-and, tell the others at the ceremony that I love them. I… love you all so much.”

“We have to go…” Solomon’s voice sounded tense, like he was nearly ready to cry himself, only keeping himself strong for you. Wrapping an arm around your waist, he nearly hoisted you back himself. Before you left, you reached into the pocket of your pants, fishing out the letter that you had written alone in your old room, what seemed like forever ago now, the one still stained with old tears. You tossed it to the ground in front of you, hoping they would read it, hoping it would help…them live without you.

The last thing you heard was a chorus of cracking voices, getting cut off before they could tell you they loved you too…

And then you were gone. A harsh and forceful wind seemed to suck all the air from your breath. It was almost as if you were being plunged underwater, several forces of pressure from the thousands of years you were swirling past was threatening to crush you. The only sensation you were aware of was Solomon’s. His arms were holding onto you tightly, continuing to mutter spells over and over and over again to keep you safe, expending all of his waining power to push you both through the folds of reality and out on the other side.

Gravity. Disorientation. Falling. A heavy weight slammed against your chest so hard, you wondered if your ribs cracked. The back of your head hit something firm. Everything went black for a while.

After who knows how long, your eyes opened again, staring straight up into the Devildom sky, the shifted stars more familiar to you. Your head was splitting with pain, your breath a wheeze as you glanced down to see Solomon’s limp body keeping you pinned against the ground.

“S-Solomon?” It took a short while for the panic to settle in. “Solomon!” After a moment of struggling, you managed to get him off of you, setting him on his back in the grassy plane you had been spat back out onto. His face looked drained. A chant left the base of your throat, using the last scrap of magic you had to give him a spell to reinvigorate his body. His eyes shot open, coughing as he rolled over onto his side, pushing himself up onto his arms before he fell down again. “Take it easy!” Together, using each other as support, you both got back up to your feet.

“I’m sorry…I had meant to deliver us right in front of the House of Lamentation, but…”

“You did alright,” you assured him, rubbing his back to keep his dizzy mind conscious. “A bit of a rough landing, but we’re alive…” But then, the better question was… “Are we—“

“There you are.” A calm voice manifested itself as a demon in front of you. Barbatos stepped out of a portal, his expression nearly as neutral as ever, except there was something in his eyes that was shining, a strange tremor to his hand that was completely unnatural for someone as him. Then he frowned as he took in the state of both of you, his nostrils flaring as he took the both of you with him, each with one gloved hand. You were pulled into a much less chaotic rift this time. Although the jolt was still enough to nearly cause both you and the sorcerer to fall back to your knees. Before that could happen though, you were shoved into a bed.

The guest rooms of the castle appeared the same as always, but something in particular felt nostalgic, like you’d just returned to a childhood home. Solomon appeared to be ushered into a bed right by your side, both your minds too rattled to resist, as the butler threw open the guest room door from the inside and summoned nearly every Little D in the entire building. “I need human medication, bandages, two sets of pajamas, the herbal tea I set aside in the kitchen. I need the oven preheated, the counter prepared, two trays set, and need them all done within the next two minutes.” There was a very subtle raise to his voice, the seriousness of his tone sending a chill down your spine and sending every Little D scattering for their lives. Barbatos spent one second observing them flee before he dissipated once more, getting wisked away through another portal of his own making.

This all felt…so surreal. Perhaps it was the pain that you were in that was making it feel like a dream. Like you’d wake up in Cocytus Hall and be right back at square one. And yet, something in you was missing that place… that house that you had just started to get used to. The furniture and things both you and Solomon had bought to make it your shared home. But your real home was here. Well, hopefully here.

You wouldn’t get your hopes up over anything yet. Not until you got to see them.

Barbatos returned before you could even begin to ask Solomon about any of this. A whirl of varying shades of green caused your vision to do somersaults as you were quickly fretted over. Salves and bandages were wrapped around your torso and a damp cloth gently touched the back of your head. That splitting pain resurfaced, joining forces with an added stinging. Maybe it was your body going into shock, but you could’ve sworn you heard a shaky shush coming from your current caretaker as you were cleaned and patched up quickly. Luckily, it wasn’t too much longer after that till the aches went mostly away, your head clearing up again as a set of your own pajamas were settled at the foot of the bed, a silver tray stretched over your lap and propped up on two stands. A small plate with a single pastry sat in front of you, along with a bitter smelling dark-green tea that you could tell you’d rather avoid imbibing.

Swiveling your head to the side, you saw Solomon leaning back against the headrest and a few pillows, a bit more vibrancy in his eyes, although those intense dark circles were hard to miss. He was okay. Thank…everything.

“Eat. Drink. Both of you.” The butler stood between the beds, realizing he’d spoken quite against his normal demeanor, he cleared his throat, his palm pressed between his collarbones. “Phoenix’s Breath Tea. You’ll both need it to recover. I apologize for making you both consume something so distasteful, but I’ve found it goes down a bit smoother paired with something sweet.”

A single whiff of the hot beverage in your hand was enough to make you cough, some sense burning in your nose. You settled the cup back down, taking a deep breath, trying to get your head on straight. “Barbatos… Are we…?”

The butler’s eyelids fluttered slowly. “You are,” he stated, his voice quiet, almost in awe. “You’re home. Back in the world you belong.”

A lump immediately formed in your throat, pushing the tray forward and turning to get out of bed. “I need to go. I need to see them, I—“ Before you could get one foot touching the ground, you were wrangled back into bed.

“I’ll fetch them. I swear you won’t have to wait too much longer. But you must drink the tea and you must take a moment to recover. If the others were to know the state you both were in right now, the castle would be torn—“

A banging sound ripped through the room like a gunshot. The guest room door was busted completely off it’s hinges, the wood of the frame splintering, the door soaring across to the left and fully embedding itself into the wall like a dart stuck in a board. If it weren’t for Barbatos’ inhuman skills, you’ve spilled the tea and dessert all over yourself. The royal attendant audibly sighed, sweeping himself to his feet and holding his arms out, his demon form manifesting, wrestling back a writhing and screaming black mass.

Your eyes went wide.

The mass stopped fighting, going rigid, stepping back to form seven different individuals. Three more non-hostile forms stood back in the wrecked doorway, two white, one red.

The bottom of your lip trembled as an overwhelming surge of joy and despair and relief and guilt all flooded out of you in tears. Your fears were pushed away. Your soul seemed to click back into place, like you’d been the last puzzle piece just waiting to finish the picture. “I’m home…”

Chaos erupted in the castle guest room. A few cracking wails nearly burst your eardrums. Asmo’s arms were the first to wrap around you, mascara running down his cheeks in large inky trails, but he didn’t seemed concerned in the least. Kisses lined your face with each sharp intake of breath, too shaken to even speak, he could only address you in his cries as he clutched onto you, trembling. His hand stroked your head, his breathing stopping for a moment when he saw the damage the landing had caused. This only caused him to whimper and cry harder, his thumb running over the outline of your features, running the back of his fingernails over your cheeks.

Levi was stuttering incomprehensibly. As he fell to his knees, he clutched at his head, going through an entire panic attack. He clawed at his chest, tearing gashes into the front of his clothes, looking up at you behind large welling tears as his tail wrapped around his entire torso. Mist filled the entire room as he continued to shake and cry so fervently he couldn’t even stand.

Luke was quite a ways away, holding onto Simeon’s clothing as he screeched out painful genuine child-like cries. The Angel curled over him, shushing him, getting to his own knees to hold the fledgling to his chest, assuring both the little angel and himself that you were okay. You were alright. Miracles had brought you together again. They didn’t have to worry any longer. The sleepless nights, the endless nightmares, the never-ending cold grip of sorrow could go away. He spoke this mantra- this prayer- over and over again, taking deep breaths between the words, blinking rapidly as he had to sway him and his charge back and forth to keep themselves both at ease. The older angel took the occasional glance over Luke’s shoulder, muttering a thankful blessing on repeat every-time he locked with your eyes.

Satan was thrashing around the room, screaming wildly, out of control, ready to beat Barbatos and Solomon for making you arrive in this condition, for not bringing you sooner, for not telling them sooner, for— Eventually, after getting thrown around the room a little, he ran out of things to be angry for. All it took was one look at your face to calm him down. He approached carefully, angry at himself, angry at whoever it was that took you away, but trying to keep himself together. Satan gingerly pulled Asmo off of you, turning Lust over to Solomon. Clearly, he’d been worried about his other pact-mate, hugging the sorcerer and crying a little more softly into his shoulder. Meanwhile, Satan reached a hand out hesitantly, like you were a feral cat he was trying to pet, worried you’d run away. His hand brushed through your hair and settled at the side of your face. Once he realized you weren’t going anywhere, his arms pulled you to him, pressing your face against his shoulder. “You’re here. You’re here again. You’re—“ His voice went hoarse, like he was losing it, like he’d been doing nothing but screaming for the entirely of your absence. Soon his words were nothing but faded squeaks, trying to portray his words but unable to. He simply held you instead. Then he tore himself away from you, heading over to the back wall and punching holes into the structure till his knuckles turned bloody.

Someone crawled onto the bed. Belphegor peered at you with an almost blank expression. His hand reached out, touching your knee, flinching as soon as he made contact, like the very act of him doing so would hurt you further. You could tell that maybe he felt like some of this was his fault, like he’d deserved the pain of having you be sent away from him, like if he did anything wrong again, you’d vanish for real this time, How many times could you come back from the dead? How close was he to losing you entirely? For good? As soon as his warmth mixed with yours, he collapsed on the mattress, curling up at your feet. He gathered the blanket towards his face, the end of his tail twitching erratically. His sobs were silent but violent, the entire bed shifting and bouncing as his body convulsed, his chest pounding as he broke down. Every once and a while, he would become extremely frightened, needing to gasp and look up to ensure you were real. You weren’t a dream. He pinched himself, shook his head, even almost bit at his hands to snap him out of this vision. But you were really here. He would curl back up and continue to cry.

White hair bobbed in front of your vision, two hands going to your shoulders and shaking you, pinning you against the headboard, fingernails careful not to dig themselves into your skin as they gripped your body. “What the hell is wrong with you?! Huh? Huh?! Do you have any idea what you put us through?! What you put me through?!” Mammon growls and screams shocked you.

“Mammon.” Lucifer’s voice settled as a stern warning, but something about it seemed weaker than usual.

Greed ignored him, continuing his rant. “You were just gone. Gone! You know that?!” He shook you again, careful not to rattle you too much. “And what am I supposed to do about that, huh?! What did I say?! I said—“ His voice cracked, trails of moisture streaming from his eyes and over his lips. “I said,” he repeated, “if you’re ever in trouble, you have to let me save you. What part of that didn’t you understand?! How dare you get taken somewhere where I can’t reach you?! How dare you?! How dare you?!” His voice continued to raise in pitch, sounding more and more unstable with each accusing question. Then he slumped, his forehead pressing against your chest as his hands held onto your shoulders tighter, almost bruising them, fearful of letting you go. He began shaking you a few times more, each shake meeker than the last. “How dare you. How dare you… How… W- What was I supposed to do if you didn’t come back?… The world is nothin’… I’m nothin’…”

Beel came over and helped his older brother to his feet, allowing him to sit on the side of your bed as Mammon furiously used the back of his wrist to rub at his cheeks. Gluttony stood over you, looking down with a wide close-lipped smile. “Welcome back.” He leaned down, pressing his cheek against yours as his large arms wrapped around the back of your neck. He took in the scent of you, burying his face into the crook of your neck for a moment. His body didn’t shutter, didn’t make noise, but you felt a few warm tears of his drip onto your skin. He silently and secretly teared up for just a few moments before he stood back up straight, gesturing to the tray with your items on it. “Eat, please. It’ll make you feel better.” The sixth-born took a few steps back to let you breathe, and as he moved back, someone else moved forward.

Lucifer stood at your bedside for quite some time in silence, looking down on you with a rather unreadable expression. He had a frown, eyes squinting like he was upset at you. He scanned you over, his brows furrowing, his jaw clenching. He refused to move, refused to say anything, refused to look you directly in the eyes. You moved forward a little, grabbing his hand, holding it in yours. All the sudden, the tension released. His eyes widened before his eyelids lowered, glancing at you past the vulnerable shimmer past his irises. Wrinkles of stress deepened in his forehead as his whole face contorted in agony. He held your hand tightly, bringing the back of it up to his lips. After that, he pulled you against him, his forehead pressed up against yours, his wings in his demon form acting as some sort of visual blocker, as if he couldn’t stand to have the rest of the room see how he was acting right now. He rubbed his face against yours back and forth, one small touch away from cooing, his hands caressing the sides of your neck, feeling your pulse, hearing your breath, taking in every detail and confirming to himself that you were indeed in his arms again, alive and mostly well. “You’ve come back to us,” he whispered, the end of his nose touching yours as one of his hands cradled the back of your neck. “Back to me.” His breath was hot as he panted for a moment, taking a deep breath and speaking in a hushed tone. “I had nearly begun to entertain the thought that…”

You pulled him closer to you, letting his head rest on your chest as you reached around to his back, grasping the cloth of his clothes in your hands. “You know I would fight through all the layers of hell to get to you.”

That seemed to resonate with him, but you weren’t quite sure he remembered that you were speaking quite literally. All those adventures…the things you’d all learned. How lost were they?…

However, Lucifer simply smiled, laughing a little, squeezing you before laughing again. “Yes, if anyone would do such a thing, it would be you. I shouldn’t have doubted you.” He straighted, fixed his clothing, lowered his wings, and moved further back into the room, rubbing his eyes with his thumb and forefinger as he paced towards a back corner.

Levi had finally soothed himself enough to move, walking on his knees towards the bed. His hands were fidgeting with every part of his outfit. Eyes puffy from crying, throat raw from his collapse earlier, he kept himself from speaking. You managed to smile down at him and wipe away the last few of his tears. His lips shook again before he lowered his head into your lap. Face-down in the fabric of the blanket, he kept shaking his head. He didn’t stop until your fingers ran through his hair. With a forced gulp, he eventually vocalized words. “I missed you… I was- was- was so scared I would…”

“Lose you.” Belphie sat up in bed, ignoring the fact that his face was now a mess. He scooted closer towards your side on the bed. “We thought we lost you.”

The youngest was able to say what none of the others could. Full silence washed over the room as the reality of the situation fully seemed to hit them, their shock slowly starting to fade.

Diavolo strode in, everyone moving out of the way to allow him to have his own time with you. The corners of his eyes crunched in happiness. His tight and broad shoulders sagged. Both of his large hands scooped up one of yours, bringing your touch to the side of his face. He closed his eyes, almost appearing as if he might purr any second. As he opened his sight back at you, a fire of positivity and excitement lit within him. “A party! We must throw a party! A welcome home celebration! This is…this is… a joyous day.”

At first, the others seemed confused. Then, one-by-one, small determined smiles spread across their faces. The sorrow melted and gave way to pure uncontrollable elation. People hugged each other, danced around the room, cheered, bounced, came back to kiss you, came back to hug you, nearly passing you around the room till Barbatos barged back in and took your hand, bringing you back to bed.

For a while, you assumed he would shut the idea down entirely. But then, the butler grinned. “I figured you would all say as much. Some preparations are already being made. In the meantime, we should let these two rest. They’ve had all too much excitement today.” Barbatos pulled the blanket back over your legs, readjusting the tray and giving you a biting glare that told you you wouldn’t be able to get out of drinking that god-forsaken tea. “But after that, we will celebrate. We will take every day and night to cherish you, and make up for the time we lost.”

Most of the brothers tried clinging to you, demanding they get to stay, but Diavolo, Barbatos, Lucifer, and Simeon managed to corral the desperate demons and one small angel out of the room.

But before they all left, you shouted. “Wait!” They all turned, worried that something was wrong. However, you smiled, happy tears running down your face this time. “I love you all. So very much.”

“I cherish you with every fibre of my being.”

“There ain’t nothing more priceless than you.”

“E-Everything is so much more fun with you here with m-m- us…”

“I…don’t want to even try to imagine a world without you in it.”

“Nothing, and I mean nothing, hun, is as charming as you.”

“Our family isn’t complete without you in it.”

“You belong with us. End of story.”

“You are one of the most precious beings the three realms has ever known.”

“I find myself discovering new things to enjoy every moment I spend with you.”

“Listen, you are a shining beacon in the night. Know how special you are.”

“You teach me so much! If it weren’t for you, I might still be scare— I mean, dislike demons!”

“My dear apprentice… We couldn’t have gotten home without you. You deserve the world. I will stick by you no matter where you go. And you deserve to know—“

“How much we love you too.”

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me levi #obey me satan #obey me asmo #obey me beel #obey me belphie #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me simeon #obey me solomon #obey me luke #obey me nightbringer #nightbringer spoilers

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hanafubukki · 5 months

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Summary: In which, a potion accident leads to Lilia having long hair again.

You coughed and waved your hand, trying to dispel the fumes in the area.

You knew allowing Grim and Lilia to partner up was a bad idea.

Whatever the two had poured into the cauldron caused an explosion of colorful gases, you could hear Silver call out to his father in panic.

“Khee hee~ It’s been a while since I’ve been like this.”

Malleus cleared the area with his magic, and you were faced with the nonchalant laughing fae.

Lilia was safe and sound with no visible wounds, the only difference was his hair. Whereas he had short hair before, now he had long hair, more than he ever had in his long life.

Oh no.

This was bad for you.

It turns out cutting said hair would not be possible. The potion ended up giving Lilia indestructible hair no magic or blade could cut.

Professor Crewel had simply stated the easiest option was to wait until the potion wore out.

Whenever that was.

In the meantime, you watched as Silver’s bird friends and Malleus’ magic worked together to braid said hair.

It reminded you of a certain movie back in your world, ironically enough.

Sebek poked at you, “Human! What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing. Nothing at all!”

Sebek seemed to realize something to your mortification, “Oh! Is it because-”

You slammed your hands over his mouth, “Don’t finish that sentence!”

You and Silver watch as Lilia uses his hair to swing side to side across the room.

His laughter bounced off the walls.

Neither of you were surprised, but it was still an amusing sight nonetheless.

“Sebek told me about your…problem.”

You were going to kill him.

“It’s not a problem. It’s just a me thing.”

“Father would be happy if you told him.”

“He would be insufferable and you know it.”

Silver couldn’t deny that.

“Malleus!”

“Child of Man?”

You ran behind Malleus, taking cover.

“Oh come now~ I just want to talk Dear.”

“Whatever you want to ask, you can ask in front of Mal.”

Lilia pouted, his hair was still long and dragging about. You wondered how it didn’t get dirty.

But then again, you knew Silver who uses soap on his, so was this surprising?

“Lilia, why is YN hiding from you?”

“That’s what I want to know! They’ve been neglecting me~ I want my cuddles but they keep running away.”

Malleus seemed to think Lilia’s words over, and you used this opportunity to try and escape-

“Woah!”

Something wrapped around your wrists and pulled you across into Lilia’s arms.

You stared at the hair binding your hands together.

You’re kidding me-

“Bye Malleus~”

“Wait! No! Malleus-”

“It is better to express yourself rather than keep it in. It was you who taught me that, YN.”

Traitor.

Lilia burst into laughter.

Normally, you would find this cute

You know, if you weren’t tied to your chair.

Bound with layers of hair.

The irony of this didn’t escape you.

“So you ran away because you couldn’t handle how hot I was?”

“…maybe.”

You weren’t going to tell him that General Llilia, during your time in his dreams, still made you hot and bothered.

Nor would you tell him about those dreams with the General, the current Lilia in front of you, and you. Together.

Nope.

Never.

He would have a bigger head than he already does, knowing how weak you are for him.

It was bad enough that Sebek knew how much you simped for his mentor because you needed to confide in someone. Though you kept those thoughts away from him, for both your sakes.

“Khee~ Hee~ You’re so adorable, Beloved.”

Lilia leaned towards you.

“Would you say…I make you speechless?”

The dark crimson of his eyes made you fluster. A flash of an image of him in his groom outfit had you blushing more.

“That’s cheating!”

Lilia chuckled before sitting on your lap, his thighs framing yours and his arms circling your neck.

“I never said I played fair. Besides, I quite adore you like this.”

His fingers trailed up the back of your neck into your hair. His breath mingled with yours, lips barely touching.

“Bound and pretty under me, and all mine to do as I please.”

Your whimpered plea has him finally leaning in, lips pressing against yours.

The way this idea gripped me and never let go as Nessy ( @masquerade-of-misery) and I talked about how hot Lilia is with long hair.

Hope you enjoyed ☺️🫶💚

#lilia vanrouge x reader #lilia vanrouge #twst lilia vanrouge x reader #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x you #twst silver #sebek zigvolt #malleus draconia #twisted wonderland x you #lilia x reader #lilia x you #twst lilia vanrouge #lilia vanrouge x you #twst imagines #twst scenarios #lilia vanrouge x mc

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bvidzsoo · 24 days

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Preying on you tonight

Author: bvidzsoo

Warning: smut, cursing, alcohol consumption, violence, bullying (nothing extreme), saying wet dog as an insult, mentions of injury and blood

Pairing: Song Mingi x female reader

Word count: 29k

Summary: Nocturnal Parade was a safe haven for creatures like yourself, vampires, and for creatures like Mingi, werewolves. After a misfortunate event, you come to hate the other kind with your whole being despite having to live in unity and peace. What happens after a drunken night spent with your enemy, a night which changes everything for forever?

A/N: Hello, lovelies!! Surprise, another Mingi oneshot! (because the brainrot is at its peak and I'm a Mingtis *cries*) I'd like to point out a few things before you start reading the story:

✦ 1. I did a different take on vampires and both werewolves here, let's say, it's my version of these creatures mixed with all the lore I know about them.

✦ 2. Please, please, please, imagine Halazia Era Mingi while reading this!!! And Deja Vu Era Yunho!

✦ 3. This is important! For the sake of the story, the siblings are all called Song, after Mingi's surname! (I didn't mention it in the story, but Mingi's fur is white!)

✦ 4. Yes, I used Katherine's surname because I have an unhealthy obsession with her and because Y/N's character was partially inspired by her. (my TVD lovers know)

Also, I feel like I accidentally made a lot of puns in the story, so don't mind me lol. I think that's all for now, and I'm veery excited to hear your thoughts about this story, so your feedback is very welcomed! I hope you enjoy it, and happy reading now! ^^

Taglist: @orshii @sharksandminhos @cheolliehugs @dollce-exe @kikiskz

Creatures like ourselves needed a safe haven away from the looming, close-minded, humans roaming the streets of cities, constantly pondering whether they’d fall victim next in our sharp claws. Their view of us was rather cartoonish, and disfigured, and we could only thank all those made-up legends for scaring humans away from peculiar creatures, like ourselves. We were nowhere close to being the scary monsters parents warn their children of in the bedtime stories they tell them, however, we could be dangerous if provoked and forced into an uncanny situation.

Communities have been formed a long time ago, altogether with a treaty, in hopes of making peace between the supernatural creatures roaming the same Earth as humans. However, most still didn’t take kindly of us, and therefore, we were forced out of their circles, made to fend for ourselves on our own. Laws weren’t abiding at first, quite deceitful when it came to the rights night creatures had, but after the Raging Revolution, everything changed. Humans became less animus towards us and finally started acknowledging us, step by step setting up things for us, allowing us to join their circles, of course, in a restricting and well-supervised manner. Therefore, after a party has been formed in order to defend our rights and fight for the future of the night creatures, a clergy was founded with it simultaneously, trying to prove to the humans that we were just like them, albeit a little rough and more menacing. We had the same beating hearts, the same iron and hot blood gushing through our veins; we weren’t indestructible either, and most of all, we needed the same resources as them. With the creation of the clergy, it had seemed that the humans had finally settled down, accepting us fully into their society. They remained cold to us, but they weren’t so rude and threatening anymore about their ideologies and beliefs.

This gave us the opportunities to finally meddle with them, to freely follow their footsteps, establishing a lifestyle similar to theirs. We were allowed inside their cities and towns, offered jobs and given permission to step inside the same buildings as them. Society was finally progressing after decades of oppression and pain, the night creatures were somewhat finally free from the clutches of their oppressors, living the lives our ancestors have fought so hard for. However, that did not mean that everything was joint, or that you didn’t have the choice of living secluded in the safety of your own kind. My parents have chosen to raise me up far away from the rambunctious big cities, instead settling in a heavily protected town, infused by only night creatures on the outskirts of the Haunted Woods, South from anything lively. But just because humans were scarce here, did not mean that our lives were quiet and boring. It was far from it. My life was anything but boring, childhood filled with mischief and misbehavior as I was always allowed to do whatever I wanted.

Perhaps it was the privilege of having extremely rich parents, being the descendent of a bloodline so ancient that I would get a headache trying to remember every family member that was still alive whenever we would gather for our annual new year celebratory balls. Raised in lavish and puff, I was content with the way things were, and I had no intentions of moving out of Nocturnal Parade anytime soon, if ever at all. My family had settled down here in 1250, and only those curious and adventure seeking ventured far from our homeland, sometimes returning with the promise of never wanting to join the human joint cities, with others never returning, calling our safe haven a lie and depraved of everything else the ‘real’ world had to offer us. To my parents joy, I had no such intentions, content with the Petrova family’s fortune and assets, rightfully so wanting to join the family business.

The Petrova bloodline had been around far before records were even made of humankind, they have survived plagues, wars, treason and disasters, always returning stronger and stronger, their names present in history books, marking historic events and building a community that welcomed any and all kinds of night creatures, not once discriminating anyone. There wasn’t an anarchy when it came to us, creatures, everyone was equal. That’s what the clergy preached and instilled in each one of us, however, I couldn’t help but harbor hard feelings against one kind, werewolves, more exactly. I most probably wouldn’t have had any problems against them, but an unfortunate event seemed to mark me for life, and I would carry it on with myself until the end of Earth. There was nothing and no one that could change my mind about those wild, feracious, and obnoxious animals. Even if the clergy said hating one kind meant being just the same as the humans were once towards us, I couldn’t help myself. Hating someone was not a crime, and with the deep webbed hatred in myself, not even the clergy could stop me from sending glares at those wet dogs, whispering threats at them, or making their days a living hell at our Academy.

Wilden Pine Academy was a place for Vampires and Werewolves; however, the occasional Fae and Druids would make their appearance as well. Nocturnal Parade was famous for its large population of Vampires and Werewolves alike; therefore it came as no surprise that the Academy closest to our town was littered with both kinds. A four-hour drive, deep into the Pinecone Forest, and you’d be presented with our majestic Academy, its towers high and dark for vampires not keen of sunlight, and fields widely expanding, perfect for the ever loud and restless werewolves. This place was made to bring everyone together, to strengthen the bond between the two kinds, their animosity against each other quite famous, well-known even between mere humans. And it seemed that Wilden Pine Academy did an extraordinary job at bringing vampires and werewolves to a truce, to control the deep-rooted hatred for each other, and to forge an alliance that became nondestructive over the decades as both remained on the front, fighting for the night creatures’ rights and lives. Not that those stupid history books could dictate how I would feel about such wild creatures.

The Academy was serene, with eager and passionate professors all around, spreading their knowledge about anything supernatural or quite mundane. Our curriculums were closely constructed in a way that would allow us to learn everything we needed to know about ourselves and our history, but also about the humans and their atrocious self-destructive stories. The grounds were separated in two, left wing for the vampires, and for the occasional fae folk, right wing for the werewolves and their little druid friends that would show up uninvited. Of course, there were more common grounds than one could possibly imagine here at Wilden Pine Academy, the academics following the clergy’s words like the Holy Grail. Everyone must be united at all times, discrimination between kinds to be severely punished, following the laws of the Night Creatures Rule Book. One of these said common grounds was quite unfortunately the study hall, which was open at all times, and warmly welcomed anyone who wished to catch up on their projects and homework. The separation between these two kinds was only ever present in my own mind, casting a glance upon the vast study hall, you’d realize that nobody cared who sat next to them as long as they didn’t bother them. Vampires next to werewolves were a common sighting, yet I couldn’t bring myself to stay in their vicinity for longer than three minutes. And even like that, I was being generous. I always made sure to pick the furthest table from those animals in the study hall, and was rather thankful that they weren’t stupid enough to approach my table. It didn’t take two brain cells to know I hated werewolves, and therefore, for most part they left me alone. Not that anyone had anything to say against a Petrova, now Bae, having changed our family name after the revolution due to some legal issues amongst the humankind.

People who usually came to the study hall did so because they wished to have a relaxed ambience around themselves, not quite as restrictive as the library as here you could eat, drink, and chat with your friends freely, without anyone giving you the stink eye or the librarian breathing down your neck to reprimand you. With that being said, the study hall had a friendly atmosphere made for the Academy’s students to be able to study in peace, which presented to be harder and harder to do with seconds ticking by. Of course, when a certain five wet dogs would show up, the quiet and peace wouldn’t even last for one second. Despite their table being towards the middle of the large room, and my own table towards the back, close to the large bookcases, their loud howls and laughter carried over. It blew my mind how nobody even as much as glanced their way or said anything to quieten their table down. Everyone seemed content with the ruckus they were creating, and it made my blood boil even more that I couldn’t be as unbothered as the rest of the creatures around me. But perhaps if it was a bunch of vampires being rascals, I also wouldn’t have batten an eyelash in their direction, but this was the Song family. A family I hated with my whole being, the five creatures having risen from Hell itself, marched all the way to Wilden Pine Academy to reign chaos upon its once peaceful grounds. I never thought a body could yield such strong emotions, until I met the Song boys, and girls as well, their disgusting scent alone driving me up the wall. Especially of one certain person, who smelled like an actual wet dog, mixed with fresh grass that would make anyone gag. His scent was just as atrocious as his existence, making me grit my teeth whenever I was in the vicinity of him. Which happened more often than I would have liked it to.

The Song twins, unfortunately, had been part of my life ever since I was eight years old. Not by choice, of course. If I could’ve, I would’ve eradicated their existence a very long time ago. The Song’s weren’t native to Nocturnal Parade, they have moved into our safe haven just before our first academic year would start, coating the town in chaos like never seen before. They were well-known for being loud and eccentric, their parents just as much of a bother as their children were. And there were five of them, five horrific werewolves, howling and cackling every time you’d cross their paths. Song Mingi and Song Yunho were not your identical twins, however, they did seem to resemble each other in more ways than others. Both were tall, boisterous, loud, and hyperactive to a point where once Yunho had to be sedated as he wouldn’t stop running around the fields before curfew. Despite Yunho being the louder twin, Mingi wasn’t far behind, his personality more irritating than the older twin’s one. He never failed to drop whatever he carried in his hands, bumping into anything possible as if his coordination was off—not that I had expected anything more from a filthy dog. And despite being similar, they were quite easily very different when it came to their styles. Yunho, ever colorful and peculiar when choosing his attire, his black hair highlighted with fiery red highlights, nails always painted either turquoise or yellow, and shoes mismatching for whatever mysterious reason that I really wasn’t curious about. Mingi, however, only wore dark clothes, with the occasional odd white colored graphic t-shirts—or that one funky white jacket with a bunny on it—always heavily littered with silver jewelry around his neck, wrists, and fingers, his nails never bare, always tinted black or chrome silver.

Both Yunho and Mingi had a phase, back when we were all fourteen, when they have started heavily smudging their eyes with black kohl eyeliner, always looking like pandas after we had to run around the flower fields while it rained heavily. It seemed that only Mingi stuck with the makeup, Yunho opting to experiment with different lip colors, weirdly sticking to a dark purple or light pink one for most times. I never allowed myself to ponder too much about their preferences, the twins a sighting everyone found odd at times, perhaps even intriguing as they seemed to have personalities that was liked by the masses, giving me a headache whenever I saw creatures flocking around them, vampires and werewolves alike, desperate for some attention from them.

But if having the Song twins a constant in my life until I would graduate from the Academy was bad, I really had no idea what more this family had in store for me. With the appearance of their younger brother, Wooyoung, I finally learned what absolute and utter chaos and madness meant, the boy a spawn of Satan himself, sent to destroy anything in its wake. The boy was a werewolf, yet he cackled like an old, evil, witch, his dark eyes staring into yours as if he wanted to suck your soul out. And he was cocky, way too confident in himself, perhaps a defective trait he learned from Mingi, who wasn’t lacking in the ego department either. And when I thought I was finally safe of that horrible family, two more additions of the family showed up at the Academy, two girls, their sisters. Yeri, who was three years younger than the twins and one year younger than Wooyoung, was a deceitful girl. Her angelic face had fooled everyone at first, sweet smile and soft giggles quickly making everyone fall for her charm naively. But that girl was another spawn of Satan, the biggest troublemaker dated at the Academy so far, every professor’s nightmare from the very first class she attended, successfully blowing up a frog to everyone’s horror, only giggling when brought to the Principle’s office, saying that she hadn’t seen the instructions in her book and decided to improvise. And if the family wasn’t complete already, their youngest sibling also showed up at the Academy, and she was the oddest of them all. Dahyun never really spoke until she felt the need to. Her face a constant mask of blankness, lips downturned and eyebrows furrowed. She’d hold eye contact with anyone who looked her way, and smile almost threateningly when they averted their eyes disturbed by her emotionlessness. She often whispered to herself and, to my utmost horror, I was unfortunate enough to catch her speaking to the air once I was out in the fields with a fae friend, whispering about some dead animal she had found a day ago. Three were rascals and two were possible future murderers, weren’t they a wonderful family?

My fist tightened, fingers flexing around the pencil I held in my hand, lower lip sucked in as my glare settled upon the loud Song table, blood boiling, and ears ringing from oversensitivity as I struggled blocking out their voices. Wooyoung had been cackling like a madman for over thirty minutes now, Yunho also constantly giggling as they were hunched over a book, scribbling in it furiously and snickering every time Yeri tried to see what they were doing. Mingi seemed to be the only one doing his homework, however, he would contribute to the mess by his own loud, irritating, laughter, unless he was pestering Dahyun about eating something, throwing chips at his younger sister’s face. The girl sat unmoving in her chair, staring ahead at one fixed point, her eyes slowly shifting onto Mingi every so often, almost smiling at him when Mingi was too busy furrowing his eyebrows as he probably struggled solving his homework. There was a knock against the wooden table, and my eyes finally snapped away from the distasteful scene, falling on my fae friend.

“Your homework won’t solve itself, Y/N.” Krystal, the Fae with undying beauty and velvety voice, said with a chuckle. Perhaps she was the least judgmental in our four-member friend group, always kind to others, and way too understanding.

“I can’t work when it’s so loud in here,” I said with a sigh, twirling my pencil around my fingers as I looked at my unfinished potion for Alchemy disheartened.

“Try blocking them out,” Krystal said with an encouraging smile as she patted my cold hand twice.

“Easy for you to say,” Seulgi hissed, turning back in her seat to glare at the Song family, “when you don’t have heightened hearing.”

Krystal chuckled, eyeing Irene for a second, who seemed unbothered as she sat next to Seulgi, head buried in her book, “Irene seems pretty unbothered.”

“That’s because I am.” Irene’s voice was lighter, a little on the shrill side, yet strong as she snapped. She looked up, amused for a second, before she placed her hand on Seulgi’s thigh, giving it a squeeze. I watched the action without saying much, but feeling suspicious of them lately.

“They’ve been in here for more than two hours and haven’t shut up for once, for fuck’s sake.” Seulgi gritted through teeth, the only one in our friend group who shared a hatred with me towards the Song family. Perhaps a failed relationship and broken promises lead to her current emotions towards the five people, but I wasn’t one to pry if she didn’t want to talk about it.

“You tell me,” I muttered, eyes falling back on their table, Mingi leaned over it and shoving chips forcefully in Dahyun’s mouth as she had opened it, only to bite down hard on Mingi’s thumb. Perhaps that was funny as I chuckled, trying to mask it with a huff, until the first spawn of Satan suddenly jumped up on the table, making my jaw drop.

“Ahoy, everyone get on board!” He shouted at the top of his lungs, finally everyone in the study hall looking at Wooyoung, “This ship is about to sail outside, who’s with me?!”

To my utmost disgust, there were people who cheered and suddenly approached the Song family’s table, jumping up and making sounds inadequate for such setting. They were howling, like dogs. I took in a deep breath, but couldn’t control my rage as it finally burst from all the irritation I had bottled up since the morning class I had to share with the twins, forced to sit next to Mingi by the professor, “Okay, that’s it. I need to leave.”

My friends looked at me, and Seulgi nodded as she started packing up, “Fuck, same. I’m about to bite Yunho’s throat off.”

Irene quirked an eyebrow at her friend, but said nothing, just chuckled. My hands shook as I pushed my chair back forcefully, making it screech loudly against the floor, yet the ruckus Wooyoung had created was overbearing, and nobody even heard my chair falling to the floor. I grabbed the two books I had picked in order to inspire me for my potion, and turned to head towards the bookcases. Krystal had an apologetic smile on her face as she raised one hand, “I think I will stay; I still need to finish my project.”

“That’s alright.” Irene said with a reassuring smile, her stoic expression instantly melting, “I also want to read some more. Should we head to a smaller table?”

“Sure!” Krystal grinned and both girls started packing their things as Seulgi and I made eye contact, her cheeks red.

“Do you mind if I wait for you outside?” Her voice sounded strained and I shook my head no, knowing that she was on the verge of snapping. Not that I was far off from doing the same. I picked my previously fallen chair up, and placed it back on its feet before taking off towards the very last bookcase, the returning band being placed there. Despite knowing where I took my books from, I found it only logical to place them on the return band, hence why it was put there. I bypassed a vampire staring at one of the bookshelves, almost crashing into them when they stepped backward, thankful to my quick reflexes as I avoided colliding into them. I gave them a glare as I continued walking, hurrying when the cheers of Wooyoung and those having joined him had gotten louder, making my jaw tighten as I sucked in another deep breath, ears ringing from the commotion. There were some days when I woke up overstimulated and sensitive to everyone around me. Even the softest of sighs could make my ears ring and bring forward a migraine, and today was one of those days, and the Song family made sure to worsen my symptoms with their loud antics.

I finally reached the band at the end of the bookcase, and neatly placed the two books on top of other ones, to be sorted and placed on their respective shelves later. A particular loud shriek made my body tense as it felt like a vein was close to popping in my forehead, head thumping, forcing my eyes squeezed shut. I took a second to regain my composure, gulping hard, and inhaling deeply, almost choking on the wet dog smell invading my senses. It took everything in me not to gag, and as I turned to speed walk out of this wrenched place, I crashed harshly against another hard body. They gasped loudly, books tumbling to the floor. As the smell got prominent, I jumped back upon realizing it was Mingi who had ran into me. My eyes instantly narrowed, piercing on Mingi as he looked at his feet almost defeated, five books laying scattered around him. His blonde hair with fading red at the ends was long, and in a half-up ponytail, with the front strands framing his sharp features, his thick eyebrows furrowed as he looked up at me.

“Hey, next time—”

“Watch where you go, dog.” I hissed, voice low and threatening, “I’m sick of you always stumbling into me.”

Mingi’s eyebrows raised in disbelief and he scoffed, “You crashed into me, Y/N, not me into you.”

“Right,” I snapped, rolling my eyes, “because I could have possibly seen there’s someone behind me to purposefully run into them.”

“Don’t you have heightened senses for a reason?” Mingi mocked as he crouched down to gather his books, making me look down at him, glare furious.

“All my heightened senses are good for when you’re around is to smell the wet dog stench you carry with yourself.” I scoffed, quirking an eyebrow at Mingi as he paused for a second, raising his head slowly to look at me. His expression seemed to suddenly shift, eyes narrowing as he let the books stumble to the floor again.

“Excuse me?” His deep voice dropped even lower, raspy in its undertone as his jaw clenched.

“I’m sick of you and your inept family always creating a scene wherever you are,” I snapped, leaning down slightly as Mingi’s eyes slowly seemed to darken, pupils blown wide, “Always screaming, shouting, acting like delinquents, bothering absolutely everyone around yourselves.”

Mingi stood, looming over my form with his tall body, lips pulled into a sneer, “Little miss princess wants to teach me and my inept family some etiquette, when she can’t even bring her books back to their own places?”

I gulped, scoffing as I felt my blood pumping faster, harder, when Mingi’s eyes suddenly flashed their menacing orchid color. His wolf was probably fighting to come forward, but it looked like Mingi was trying to suppress it, “This band is here for a reason, Mingi. Lord knows you and your inept family need that etiquette lesson. Perhaps it would finally give you some sense, perhaps you’d finally realize you have no place at Wilden Pine Academy and Nocturnal Parade—”

My heated words were cut off by a loud gasp as I was slammed into the bookshelves behind me in the blind of an eye, hard wood digging into my spine as a strong grip curled around my left bicep tightly, claws almost piercing my skin. Mingi’s eyes shone a bright orchid, and his fangs suddenly grew as he hissed lowly, lowering his head to the point that it was in my face, mere centimeters away from my own. My body reacted instantly, freezing in shock, starting to tremble as my heart thumped wildly in my chest. I tried to fight the flashbacks, but the stronger Mingi’s grip got, the more frozen to my spot I was. I could picture Mingi shifting into his werewolf form, easily ripping me in half, the Petrova bloodline lost without me. We could only reproduce once.

“Mingi—” I gasped when I felt claws pressing into my flesh, making my eyes widen greatly. All of my heightened senses and strength was forgotten in that moment, body trembling uncontrollably. I was frozen to my spot, shaking eyes boring into Mingi’s orchid ones, throat constricting to the point I couldn’t breathe anymore. I struggled in gathering myself, my trauma response stronger than my will to push Mingi off myself and rip him in two. I was good under pressure, I rarely panicked and I prided myself for being level-headed, until a werewolf had me in its clutches, ready to end my life. I tried to take a ragged breath, and Mingi suddenly growled, something warm trickling down my upper arm. Frozen in terror, I could see this moment would be my demise, until suddenly voices flooded my ears, sounding rapid and panicked.

“Get him off, Yunho!” Still in a haze, mind jumbled, I realized slowly that Irene was shrieking next to me, suddenly cradling my head against her chest, but my eyes were on Mingi’s, who was trembling as well, but in anger.

“Mingi!” Yunho exclaimed, grabbing his twin’s face in both hands, yanking his head to the side as Mingi and I finally broke eye contact, “Release her, right now.”

Mingi didn’t budge for another minute, and I gasped when I felt my skin painfully pierced by his claws, but then it all suddenly stopped as Mingi jumped backwards, eyes wide as he looked around frantically. His orchid eyes flicked back to their usual warm brown tone, fangs still poking through his plump lips. Without Mingi caging me against the bookshelves, I crumbled into Irene’s arms, hyperventilating as my bicep pulsed, the painful sting clouding my vision with tears.

“Go away.” Yunho’s voice was stern as I squeezed my eyes shut, thankful for Irene’s comforting embrace as she quietly shushed me, petting my head. She was smaller than me, but her body was strong and firm, holding me captive in a motherly manner against herself. I took deep breaths, taking notice of Mingi’s scent disappearing, only Yunho’s remaining, who didn’t stink as badly of wet dog like Mingi.

“I’m sorry,” Suddenly, I felt Yunho’s eyes on me, and I gently pushed Irene away, wiping at my face, “The full moon is close and it’s always hard for Mingi to control his anger around this time. I’d like to apologize on his behalf—”

“Stay away from me!” I snapped, hissing at Yunho menacingly, my eyes shining scarlet, “All of you filthy dogs!”

Abandoning my things, which were least of my worries now, I stormed away from everyone in the study hall, out through the wide doors, having a bewildered Seulgi race after me upon noticing me. My body shook as I carefully wrapped my right hand around my bicep, biting my lower lip as it started trembling, the faded old bite mark suddenly pulsating violently, memories of that repressed day resurfacing, feeling that excruciating pain all over again. I paid no mind to the blood trickling down my arm as Seulgi fussed behind me panicked, asking question after question. I ignored her and sped up, wanting to be alone for the time being. For at least until I calmed down and repressed those awful snarls, sharp fangs and thick fur flashing behind my eyes. I hated werewolves with a passion, and nothing could change my mind about them.

Hours later, I have finally calmed down enough to leave my room and head to the canteen designed for Vampires to do my daily feed as I have skipped it this morning, having accidentally slept in. The hallways were warmly lit up, yet rather cold as the breeze wandered inside through the small cracks in the stone walls or through the opened windows. Night had fallen upon us, and everyone was finishing up their business as curfew came closer and closer. Thankfully there was no sign of the Song family through my journey to the canteen and back to my room, I don’t think I would’ve been able to even as much as look at them without wanting to rip their heads off. I had to bandage my arm after cleansing it thoroughly, since the wound was made by a werewolf it would take a day or two to fully heal, no matter how little the injury. I knew everyone heard about our little scene in the study hall as I was given inquisitive looks, only for me to ignore them as I held my head even higher, glaring at anyone who wouldn’t look away after the first poisonous look I sent their way.

Irene wasn’t in our room when I returned, but there was a small note on her bed saying that she would return late, and that I shouldn’t stay up and wait for her as she had taken our key to the room. She never explained where she disappeared to so late in the night, and I never bothered to ask, knowing well that Irene wouldn’t tell me anything, unless she was certain of whatever was going on between her and the suspected person I had in mind. That being Seulgi. Ever since her and Yunho broke up, Irene’s been breathing down her neck and it wasn’t difficult to spot the subtle changes in their friendship. The lasting stares, the subconscious touches, always looking for the other in overcrowded areas. The signs were there, but perhaps I was just reading too much into things. Seulgi needed someone who’d fully support her after the break up as she was struggling with accepting the way things ended between her and Yunho as he seemed quite unphased by it all. It was a saddening view, to see Seulgi suffer so much, mop around all day and cry even at the mention of said werewolf—it only made me hate the Song twins more. They only brought trouble and headache wherever they went, breaking hearts left and right.

I sighed as I opened the window to let some fresh air in, noticing a small letter placed on the windowsill outside. Upon noticing the emblem binding the envelope together, I quickly reached for it and delicately opened it, being presented with my mother’s fancy handwriting, just like I have expected. I sighed and leaned against the wall, eyes running over her words as the black ink seemed fresh still.

Dear Y/N,

I hope you are doing well and this letter finds you before Irene can get her hands on it, I know the last one she burned just to force me to call you. But you know I like old fashioned things, my dear, cellphones are simply not up for my taste.

To get to the point, I hope you haven’t forgotten about Parents’ Day approaching rapidly, but in case you have, here’s your reminder to start getting ready in time, daughter. If you have unpacked your luggage yourself, you must have seen the ruby red dress I have slipped inside it. I hope to see you wearing it, dear, it would bring out your pretty eyes so well. And do not forget, your makeup shouldn’t be too harsh, it gives your father a heart attack each time he sees you wearing it.

Granma and grandpa are doing well, actually, they have gone on a trip to the Maldives, said something about buying a vacation house over there so that we can stay there over the summer. Doesn’t that sound exciting? Aunt Lannie and Uncle Jaehyun would be joining us as well. It’s been quite a while since you have seen your cousins, right? How exciting!

I shall be wrapping this letter up now. I look forward to seeing you very soon, my dear, and don’t forget to be on your best behavior until then. I’d hate to get a phone call from the Principal, again, about you setting on fire one of the Song children. Mother and father loves you much!

Yours sincerely,

Petrova Yurim

I chewed on my bottom lip as I finished reading my mother’s letter, closing the window and sauntering over to my bed, dropping down on it as my grip tightened around the letter. Parents’ Day was in two days and I was far from ready for it. I have seen the dress in my luggage my mother was talking about, but I sincerely would’ve preferred not wearing it as it was a rather old dress, very out of trend as of right now. But I knew my mother’s heart would break if I didn’t wear it for her, and I closed my eyes as I fell back on my bed, wondering how I could modify it a little bit so that it would fit my style. My choice of makeup was never ‘heavy’, but my father never seemed to understand that a little eyeliner, mascara, and red lips didn’t mean the Earth was ending.

My parents have always been strict and quite demanding when it came to their preferences, rarely lenient about whatever I wanted for myself. After a while, I just learned to go with the flow and follow their teachings and words, knowing very well that once I was away from them I could do as I wished. Like setting on fire one of the Song children. To be fair, it was an accident, and it happened one year ago when we were in Alchemy class, the only class where pure chaos would ensue each time without any doubt. Yunho and Mingi had been sitting in front of me and Seulgi, loudly giggling and chatting about something completely irrelevant to our lesson, distracting me, which lead to a mild arsoning incident. I had dropped the match I had just lit up when Yunho suddenly cheered loudly, the match falling on Mingi’s chair, the long fluffy cardigan he had been wearing catching on fire. At first, I thought it would just stop burning—not one of my wisest thoughts—but it only flamed up, making Mingi yelp and Yunho shout in panic as they jumped up from their seats, frantically wrestling Mingi out of his cardigan before it could do any real damage to the werewolf. It was a rather hilarious sight, and instead of panicking and trying to help them put out the small fire, I sat cackling and high-fiving Seulgi…which, of course, caught the attention of our Professor, thus I had no choice but to admit my mistake to the Principal. I wasn’t punished for it, but Yunho would growl at me for a whole month if we were close enough to each other that his scent bothered me, and Mingi would just glare, keeping away for the most part. It had been the best month of my life; I wish it would’ve lasted for longer.

Suddenly the door of my room slamming open made me jump, alerting me to my surroundings as I had been lost in thought, unaware of an approaching Seulgi. She skipped inside with a huge grin on her face, dumping her bag on the floor and jumping on my bed, almost crushing my knee. I yelped and rolled over just in time, which apparently was an open invitation for Seulgi to cuddle me. I grumbled as her arms wrapped around my middle, her head nuzzling against my back with a giggle.

“What are you doing?” I asked with an amused huff, trying to pry her arms off me.

“I need some love,” Seulgi muttered, kicking my leg when I dug my nails into her skin, “Ow, just because we’re vampires doesn’t mean that doesn’t hurt!”

“Get off,” I laughed, rolling onto my back, forcing her to release me, “I don’t like cuddling.”

“You’re the worst.” Seulgi pouted, glaring as we turned our heads to face each other. I rolled my eyes, disregarding my letter onto my bedside table before settling back down.

“I thought you were with Irene.” I muttered, raising an eyebrow. Seulgi shook her head no and pursed her lips.

“Haven’t seen her since the study hall, she was really pissed.” Seulgi explained, turning onto her back as she stared up at the white ceiling of my shared room with Irene, “It wouldn’t come as a surprise if Mingi was found ripped in half somewhere.”

I scoffed, crossing my arms over my chest, “If Mingi dies, it better be by my hands and not anyone else’s.”

Seulgi snickered, raising an eyebrow, “Would you really kill him?”

I pondered for a second, eyebrows furrowing. Was I really capable of hurting someone to the point it would cause their death? Not exactly. Did Song Mingi piss me off so much that I have envisioned myself ripping him up into tiny particles, never to be seen again? Well, yes.

“No.” I settled with my answer, sighing loudly as Seulgi hummed, silence falling over us as there was a quiet rumble in the sky, further somewhere. A storm was coming.

“This took a dark turn, anyways,” Seulgi chuckled, sitting up and grinning down at me, “did you know about the bonfire happening tomorrow night?”

“First time I hear about it.” I grinned as I looked up at Seulgi, knowing where this conversation was leading to.

“Well then,” She wiggled her eyebrows, “You better get ready to attend another legendary party! The werewolves got the Principal to drop the curfew for the seniors tomorrow night, and we’ve got the whole lake house to ourselves!”

“What?” I asked surprised, eyes widening. Well, that was something. The lake house was off limits, unless we were supervised or had swimming classes.

“Yeah, cool stuff, isn’t it?” Seulgi nudged my thigh with her elbow, “You have to admit…these wet dogs are good for something, sometimes.”

My eyebrows furrowed as I shot Seulgi a glare, the faded bite mark and fresh wound on my left bicep suddenly pulsing in pain, “Never. They are the worst and they’ll always be. They shouldn’t even exist.”

“Okay,” Seulgi drew the word out, giving me an exasperated look, “before you start ranting about why vampires are superior and why werewolves should’ve been eradicated a long time ago, I’m going to dip!”

“Leaving so soon?” I asked with a pout as I watched Seulgi get off my bed.

“Yeah, unless we’re having a sleepover, I have to reach my own room before the curfew.” Seulgi said as she grabbed her bag and adjusted her hair in the mirror.

“Irene’s bed is free for the night, she’s not sleeping here, I think.” I muttered absentmindedly.

“Oh, I know.” Seulgi winked as my eyes narrowed at her, and then she was gone, slipping through the door, and skidding down the hallway outside of my room, her light footsteps loud to my sensitive ears. Tomorrow’s party came in handy; I really needed a drink after today. I couldn’t help but fall back into my bed with a loud huff, forcing my eyes shut when my scar started pulsing harsher, the claw marks left by Mingi fresh and just a reminder of that horrific night I was forced to live through so many years ago. And if the universe was against me, howls of those wrenched creatures traveled all the way inside my room, terrifying and loud, covering my skin in goosebumps. I truly hated those awful creatures of the night.

My hand clenched and unclenched above the tray of food placed in front of myself as I reached for the cold-water bottle, jaw clenched as the skin of my right hand burned with each jerk of my raw skin. I have been injured, again, by Song Mingi. It all happened this morning, in Alchemy. Our professor loves switching up seatmates every few days, therefore I cannot escape the wrath of having to sit next to Song Mingi for a totality of an hour and thirty minutes. Every Alchemy class had been a nightmare when we were seated next to each other, but perhaps today’s was the worst of all as Mingi managed to burn my skin with hot, sizzling, lead. Despite being a vampire, it was the second most painful thing I’ve felt so far, and it made my blood boil as the table the Song’s were sitting at was the loudest in the vast cafeteria. These idiots were enjoying their free time, as usual, loudly while bothering everyone around themselves. My eyes fell on Mingi as he threw his head back and wheezed loudly, eyes forced shut and mouth wide open as his body trashed in his seat, hand rubbing his belly as Yunho continued spouting out non-sense at his twin, making Mingi laugh even harder.

I scoffed with a venomous look on my face, unclasping my bottle of water, and taking a long swing of it. The icy water felt refreshing against my dry throat, and after screwing it shut, I placed the bottom of the bottle on top of the healing burn, sighing at the cooling sensation. Because I wasn’t feeding as often as I was supposed to, due to personal reasons, my body wasn’t healing as fast as it should have been. My senses were all over the place today as well, and it didn’t come much of a surprise, when I woke up this morning overstimulated, again, head thumping violently and ears ringing as my neighbor’s blaring alarm from three doors down woke me up. Today felt like a total nightmare, and as suddenly Wooyoung started slamming his fists on the table, edging a guy I didn’t know on to down some sort of disgusting looking liquid, I felt myself reach my limit again. I groaned, looking away from them, wincing when Wooyoung started cackling loudly, like a witch, followed by Yeri’s very shrill shouts, the sounds too harsh and piercing my sensitive ears.

“I can’t fucking stand this.” I hissed, squeezing my eyes shut as I threw the water bottle down on the table harshly, freeing my hands in order to be able to massage my thumping forehead. My migraine was only getting worse.

“Maybe you should try eating something, Y/N.” Irene’s tone was scolding, and I just shook my head, repulsed just by the thought of eating that disgusting stew placed on the plate in my tray. That was straight up dog food, and I refused to eat it. I was craving blood now more than ever, not disgusting human food.

“I’m not eating this—glop.” I motioned towards the stew on my plate and Krystal groaned loudly, throwing me a glare.

“This glop is quite tasty, Y/N, try not to ruin other’s appetite.” She spoke up with an irritated tone, “Thank you.”

I rolled my eyes but decided to shut up, “Sorry.”

“Yeah, this isn’t for my taste either.” It seemed like only Seulgi was on my side, but perhaps that wasn’t a surprise anymore. I saw the subtle glances she stole at Yunho, and when she noticed him inhaling his stew like it was the tastiest meal he’d ever had, she made a face and pushed her tray just a little bit away from herself. But in the end, she still gave in and started eating it, albeit grimacing at each spoonful.

“Why are you eating it then?” Irene asked with a roll of her eyes, pausing to give her friend a glare. I chuckled when Seulgi shrugged, averting her eyes with a blush on her cheeks. I looked down at my hand and flexed my fingers, sighing when the burning feeling intensified. I felt defeated as I leaned back in my chair, realizing that I needed to feed this afternoon too. I couldn’t go around without healing my wounds anymore, my parents would be visiting tomorrow and they’d certainly throw a fit upon noticing the fresh wounds. And that’s something I didn’t wish for at the moment.

“What happened to your hand?” Krystal asked with a frown, having finally noticed my pain as I kept wincing and glaring at the red, raw, skin of my right hand.

“Ask Mingi, he’ll gladly tell you.” I scoffed, shooting daggers at the back of his head. Almost as if sensing my harsh stare, he paused mid-air as he was raising his spoon to his mouth, and very puppy-like looked around the canteen, searching for someone. That is until his eyes fell on me, and they widened before he whipped his head around, audibly choking on his stew as he started coughing, forcing Dahyun to tap his back with strength a little girl like her shouldn’t have.

“That was interesting.” Krystal muttered as she took a longer glance at Mingi, “Almost makes me think you cursed him or something.”

“If I were a witch,” I grinned, looking at Krystal with a malicious glint in my eyes, “I would’ve gladly done it a long time ago.”

“So, will you tell us what happened?” Irene spoke up, eyebrows raised as she reminded us of Krystal’s question.

“He burned my hand, with lead.” I scoffed, crossing my arms over my chest while being careful not to touch the raw skin, “We were supposed to melt lead and mix it with chloride, professor said something about wanting to try and make aurene glass. Guess who decided to fuck up everything? That’s right, Song Mingi.”

My jaw clenched as I was taken back to that moment in the classroom, cauldrons steaming and a low murmur echoing around the dark room as everyone conversed with their seatmate, talking about the exercise we were given. Everyone except Mingi and I. We remained silent, a tense silence if I may specify, as the textbook was opened and placed in the middle of the long desk, between the two of us. It served like an unspoken barrier, yet Mingi managed to cross it every time he went to grab something, elbowing me even a few times. I tried to control myself, ears ringing as I could hear his loud heartbeat, my nose crying at the stench of wet dog mixed with fresh grass and perhaps something that oddly smelled like cinnamon. Mingi was fidgety and kept glancing at me from the corner of his eyes, licking his lips every so often. I kept on looking ahead, or at what I was doing, completely ignoring his existence. I wore a sleeveless tank top; therefore my bandages were quite obvious. The wounds have closed up already, but perhaps I wanted to be a little bit dramatic as I knew I had class with the Song twins today. I noticed the way Mingi’s body tensed when his eyes fell on my arm, and Yunho had to grab his shoulder and drag him to their table, muttering something so low into his twin’s ear, that even my sensitive hearing didn’t catch it. Not that I was curious.

After the professor assigned Mingi and I as partners, he very begrudgingly trudged over, head hanging low and pouting like a little boy forced to do something he didn’t want to. It was almost hilarious that he thought he was the only one not keen of our current predicament, but I certainly wouldn’t speak to him first about what has transpired yesterday in the study hall. I organized everything on our table as Mingi took his seat while staring at the table, avoiding eye contact when I directed my sharp gaze on his chiseled face, glaring hard at him.

“Think you can melt the lead?” My tone was snappy and cold as I raised an eyebrow at Mingi, obviously mocking him as I knew he could easily do something so easy.

“Of course, I can.” His tone was hard too as his eyes snapped up, connecting with my gaze, glaring back. I smirked as I pushed the material towards him, motioning with my chin for him to start doing so then, “I’m not your slave.”

“I’m sorry, come again?” I asked with a sweet smile despite having heard his mumbling. Mingi took a deep breath, and I watched as his sharp jaw clenched.

“Nothing, if I melt this, you mix it with the chloride, right?” He didn’t look at me as he turned on the fire underneath the steel cauldron. I hummed, pretending to think it over as my eyes ran over our textbook despite already knowing the whole process. Alchemy was always my forte, I always studied in advance for it.

“If I’ll be in the mood—”

“This is supposed to be teamwork!” Mingi snapped quietly, eyes furious as he turned to face me. His eyebrows furrowed a little and I watched as he took a deep breath, his eyes switching for a second between orchid and their deep brown. My heart stilled, the memory of his claws ripping my skin apart too fresh in my mind as my faded wound started pulsing again. I gulped and sneered at him, leaning just a little bit closer, nose burning from his horrible stench.

“Maybe if you wouldn’t have tried killing me yesterday, I would work together with a dog like you.” I hissed, Mingi’s eyes flaring orchid all of a sudden. I stiffened as we stared each other down, faces close to each other, but a few inches in between still.

“If you think calling me a dog does something to annoy me, you’re wrong, you bloodsucker.” Mingi hissed back and I chuckled, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Is that why you’re losing your cool again?” I mocked, pursing my lips in thought, “Your eyes are a dead giveaway, Mingi.”

“Perhaps you should then know by now to stop.” His voice dropped eerily low, shivers running up all over my arms, “Unless you want a repeat of yesterday.”

My heart stilled for a second and body froze up, mouth opening in shock. I only gaped at Mingi for a second, flabbergasted by the amused smirk on his lips as he stared me down, almost challengingly. But as I went to threaten him back, suddenly Yunho was behind him, large hands grabbing Mingi’s shoulders and yanking him backwards. Mingi just blinked, eyes back to brown, and looked up at his twin innocently. I couldn’t help but glare at the two, blood boiling for being rendered speechless by a dog like Mingi.

“I forgot my notebook,” Yunho’s voice was irritatingly cheery, yet I didn’t miss the warning tone in it as he squeezed Mingi’s shoulders, “can you hand it over, Mingi?”

“It’s not here.” Mingi said with a frown, looking around our shared desk, “It’s in your backpack, Yunho.”

“Oh,” Yunho chuckled, scratching the back of his head as he released Mingi’s shoulders, “my bad, I forgot. Don’t cause too much trouble.”

And with a wink, he was gone, but not without stealing a glance at me, eyes narrowing as I rolled mine, turning around to face my notebook. And after that, Mingi and I got to work, wordlessly moving around each other, making sure to never even as much as touch the other, abruptly halting when we noticed the other’s hand coming closer to our own. Time ticked away and everything was going well, until it wasn’t. Until Mingi decided to touch the tube containing the sizzling hot lead with his bare hands, spilling it all over our desk, my notebook, and my hand. I gasped loudly and couldn’t help but moan in pain as I shoot up from my seat, clutching my right wrist with my left hand as I squeezed my eyes shut in pain, hearing the professor race over as he shouted at Mingi to get the lead wipes, tissues specifically made for lead removal. The professor carefully pushed me back into my chair and took my hand into his hands, inspecting the skin closely as Mingi crashed into the table with the lead wipes in his hands. The impact sent the other tubes tumbling to the ground, but everyone ignored the sound of breaking glass as suddenly Mingi was all up in my personal space, looming over me as he clumsily handed the professor a wipe. I hissed as the professor removed the hot lead from my skin, biting my lower lip as it started burning instantly, the pain bearable, but strong.

“Thankfully the damage isn’t too bad or harsh,” The professor said as he raised my hand and inspected it from closer, “Since you’re a vampire it will heal by tomorrow, but I advise feeding and getting a lot of sleep tonight.”

Sleep, which I won’t be getting because of the bonfire party tonight, “Thank you, professor.”

He hummed before turning his stern gaze on Mingi, releasing my hands and placing them on his hips, a scolding following, “And you, young man. You’re always breaking and spilling stuff in my class, this has become unacceptable, Song Mingi. You could’ve seriously injured your classmate. I cannot accept clumsy students to my classes, I’m afraid I will have to talk to the Principal about your future in my classroom.”

“But, Professor—” However, before Mingi could even defend himself, Yunho was by his side, smiling sweetly at the professor. Of course, he would speak up for Mingi, always the knight in shining armor, acting as if Mingi didn’t have a tongue, a mouth, and a brain. But perhaps that’s why he was speaking up for Mingi, because he didn’t have all those.

“Professor, Mingi really needs this class in his curriculum.” Yunho started with a soft voice, “And the full moon is almost here, he gets stressed and unfocused around this time of the month. I can assure you that something like this won’t happen again, Professor, even if Mingi is clumsy.”

The professor sighed, rubbing his forehead, looking tired all of a sudden. And it was just the morning. I rolled my eyes when I saw the professor nod his head silently, fixing Mingi with a stern glare, “Alright, young man, get yourself together if this truly is caused by the upcoming full moon. I don’t see other wolves acting out, perhaps a counselor could help with your struggles. I will let you off this one time, but you better clear up all that broken glass!”

And just like that, Mingi was let off, and Yunho stood grinning next to his twin, both of them bowing and thanking the professor profusely. I had scoffed loudly, shaking my head as I have started putting my things away, completely ignoring the twins staring as I stormed out of the classroom, not before whirling my destroyed notebook at Mingi, who caught it with a huff as it slammed against his chest.

My eyes snapped back onto the Song table, brought back from my memory as they cheered loudly, while someone sat next to Wooyoung kept throwing grapes in his mouth, cackling at the same time. I closed my eyes with a loud groan, all three girls looking at me with amused expressions. And if this day couldn’t have gotten worse, as I opened my eyes, I was met with a stone faced Hongjoong storming past our table, throwing a piercing stare at me. I rolled my eyes and slid a little lower in my chair, the girls chuckling around me as they watched Hongjoong sit at a table with a very elegant and handsome vampire.

“He’s still butthurt?” Seulgi asked with a chuckle, watching Hongjoong behind me.

“Wouldn’t you also be?” Irene scoffed, throwing a glare at Seulgi, “Y/N literally dumped him after half a year of dating, because she found out he wasn’t rich.”

“Well, if he wouldn’t have lied to me from the very beginning,” I said with a scoff, giving them a look, “I wouldn’t have dated him for half a year, even. You know my parents would flip out if I didn’t date someone our caliber.”

“Sure, keep telling yourself that.” Krystal snorted, making me look at her questioningly, “What? You always blame your parents for the way you are, but you fail to realize it’s just you, not your parents.”

“Sure, Krystal,” I snapped, angered by the words of my supposed friend, who should’ve been on my side, “Please, do keep a lecture about how I am, and what my parents prefer if you seem to know everything so well about me!”

“Why are we fighting now?” Seulgi asked exasperated, giving me a tired look, “What is the reason for it?”

“I don’t know, but I’ve had enough.” I snapped and pushed my chair back, ears ringing as the Song table roared with laughter, the guy sitting beside Wooyoung suddenly jumping up and doing silly dances, “I have a migraine, I’m not sitting here for a second longer. See y’all at the bonfire.”

Before my friends could stop me, I grabbed my tray and walked off, forced to head towards the Song table as I had to return my untouched glop of a stew. I couldn’t help but watch Mingi as the sunlight shone inside brightly, falling on his tan skin, his blonde and red hair glinting in the light, which was in a ponytail much like yesterday. His uniform was a little array, the top of his shirt unbuttoned and tie disregarded after our Alchemy class. Of course, he was enjoying life without a care in the world, despite maiming me again, despite causing pain to me again. These bloody werewolves acted like they ruled the world and suffered no consequences when they did something wrong. I scoffed, but smirked a second later as I looked down at my still hot stew, a simple plan formulating in my mind.

It didn’t take long to reach their table, and to my ‘horror’, the front of my shoe got stuck in a ‘misplaced’ tile as it sent me tumbling forward, yelping loudly as I crashed into the back of Mingi’s chair, my tray falling from my hand and to the floor with a loud clank, Mingi’s loud cry following suit. I watched with wide eyes as Mingi jumped to his feet, sending me stumbling backwards, as my hot stew dripped down the back of his neck, his white shirt soaking through as the food trickled down his back. Everyone quieted around us, the Song table freezing as they watched Mingi yank the buttons of his shirt open, ripping the fabric off himself in a frenzy. Yunho and Dahyun were the first to spring into action, the young girl grabbing tissues as she jumped to the aid of her older brother. Yunho took the tissues and he started wiping the stew off Mingi quickly, who was whimpering quietly, as Dahyun took his larger hand in her small one, looking up at his brother with furrowed eyebrows.

“Oh, no.” I said coldly, the attention on me now, “There’s a protruding tile, I didn’t see it.”

Perhaps the insincerity and mockery in my tone sent Yunho over the edge as his expression suddenly switched up, his eyes glazing over in anger, face scrunching as his fangs suddenly poked through his lips. His eyes didn’t switch colors like Mingi’s would’ve already, but Yunho looked terrifying to the onlookers, not to me. I’ve seen Yunho angry before, and it didn’t faze me because I knew he was all bark and no bite. The giant couldn’t hurt a fly, even.

“Which tile?!” Yunho’s voice was shaking, “Show me! Right now!”

“Yunho.” Mingi whispered, grabbing his brother’s bicep.

“No, Mingi, no!” Yunho snapped, furious eyes settling on his brother, warning him to stay quiet, “I’ve had enough of her always bullying us! I’ve had enough of you, Y/N, always making Mingi suffer. What’s your fucking problem, huh?!”

“You,” I snarled, fangs growing out as I lost composure, “and your pathetic family are my fucking problem, Yunho. You act like animals and parade around thinking there’s no consequence to your actions?! He burned my fucking hand, Yunho! He pierced my skin with his claws, Yunho! What’s next, huh? He bites me and kills me?! Do you not see Mingi isn’t fit to be here? Your whole family shouldn’t be here, Yunho!”

“Until when do you think your werewolf hating agenda can go on, Y/N?” Yunho’s ears and neck have gotten red, eyes shaking as they flickered orchid for a second, but were quickly back to their light brown color. I could hear Yunho’s heart hammer against his chest, Mingi’s heartbeat fast as well, but not out of anger like Yunho’s, instead out of fear. His grip tightened around Yunho’s bicep, and I chuckled as a smirk slipped onto my lips.

“Until the day the Earth ends?” I raised an eyebrow, “Don’t forget your place, Werewolf. You are nobody and nothing, I am a Petrova. My family paved the way for everything you are able to experience comfortably today. So think again before you try to threaten me, Song Yunho.”

“Your family would be ashamed of you, Y/N.” Perhaps that jab shouldn’t have hurt as much as I did, it visibly made me recoil as my eyebrows furrowed, bitterness raising in my throat. No, they wouldn’t be. Just because I hated this family didn’t mean my own would be ashamed of me.

“You’re wrong.” I found myself saying back, voice not as strong as it was, “Stay away from me, all of you!”

And before anyone could say anything, I stormed out of the canteen, ignoring the loud whispers that followed even when I was far away, mind a jumbled mess of thoughts. I tried to forget Yunho’s words, but they were messing with my head. Maybe if his own kind wouldn’t act like such wild animals, I wouldn’t hate them. Maybe if his own feral kind wouldn’t have tried to kill me when I was a child, I wouldn’t hate them so much.

Somewhere along the day I managed to put past myself everything that’s happened in the morning and at noon in the canteen, and after having fed, I was pleased to see the burn on my hand heal by itself by the time the girls and I headed out to the bonfire party. Despite it being a spring evening, the air was chilly and the breeze cool, therefore I opted to wear a light patterned jacket over my black off-shoulder fluffy blouse, ripped black jeans hugging my legs and keeping them warm. Not that I was too cold, a vampire’s body reacted differently to the temperatures compared to the human ones. The party had been in full swing by the time the girls and I have arrived, having had to walk through a short passage of the woods, feeling quite disturbed by the louds howls of the werewolves. The girls only laughed and made comments about them being too excited for such a simple party, but all I could think about was one of them jumping out and ripping us to shreds. I kept closer to Irene, who never questioned it when I snuggled up against her side or held onto her arm tightly, even went as far as to offer me a huge smile and rub my arm up and down reassuringly. Nobody really knew about how I acquired the bite mark on my left bicep, forever marked, but it wasn’t hard to put two and two together. A vampire’s bite looked a lot different, and if a vampire bit another vampire, it faded away in less than three hours. However, if a werewolf bit a vampire, if the vampire was fortunate enough to survive the attack then the wound would scar and fade into a light, but very visible, bite marks.

But I tried to put past myself such grey thoughts tonight, and instead, welcomed the lively atmosphere as we were presented with the gravel path that lead down towards the lake house, the big bonfire a few good meters away from it, in the small meadow surrounding the lake. Vampires and Werewolves alike were gathered around, forming smaller or larger groups, and I was quickly pulled in the direction of the crackling fire as Irene excitedly pointed towards the roasted marshmallows others were having. I chuckled as I released her thin arm and accepted the red solo cup Seulgi pushed into my hands, not bothering to ask what was in it, knowing that it was most likely some unbranded hard liquor which would get us drunk fast, and hit hard, leaving us hungover tomorrow. Which probably wasn’t too smart as our parents would be visiting, but I couldn’t find it in myself to care as my body and mind screamed for a little release as these past few days have been quite stressful. I downed the contents of the red cup in one go, and perhaps that was a mistake as it burned my esophagus, making me cough loudly as Irene happily roasted her marshmallow, giggling about something with Krystal, who was crouched down next to her. Seulgi leaned against my side, resting her arm on my shoulder, and laughed as she watched me wheeze for air, clutching at my own throat desperately.

“Girl, nobody told you to down it in one go.” Seulgi seemed amused by my suffering, and I could only glare at her. That is, until I felt a foreign arm wrap around my shoulders, scent extremely new, but not too bothersome as I inhaled sharply.

“Here, wash it down with beer.” It was a senior vampire I have seen around, his eyes sharp and glinting with mischief. I narrowed my eyes at him before looking at the canned beer, and reluctantly accepted it when he pushed it in my hand, “Don’t worry, it’s unopened. Saw you downing your drink and knew you’d regret it instantly, the name’s Joshua, by the way.”

I opened the beer and took a big gulp of it, welcoming the cool drink as it poured down my throat, finally washing away the awful burn of the previous alcohol, “Nice to meet you, I’m Y/N.”

“Right,” Joshua chuckled, releasing me as he stepped back, “Hard to miss a Petrova.”

And with a wink he was gone, making me smirk as he threw a lasting stare back at me. Seulgi chuckled; her eyebrows raised when I looked at her.

“What was that?” She mocked, using a manly voice, trying to imitate Joshua despite his soft-spoken, melodic voice.

“Don’t know, but he’s cute.” I mused with a shrug and took another big gulp of my beer, humming as I could feel my body jittery already. Alcohol affected us, night creatures, harder, but judging my current mental state, I would get drunk a lot faster tonight than I would do so usually.

“Maybe he’s got his eyes on you?” Seulgi smirked, eyes sweeping over the place, searching for Joshua.

“If he’s rich, I don’t mind.” I said with a chuckle and Seulgi just shook her head, detaching herself as Irene and Krystal finally joined us again, instead going up to Irene to ruffle her perfect dark brown hair. Irene whined and pushed at Seulgi’s hand, pouting as she rearranged her curls, exchanging places with Krystal so that Seulgi wouldn’t bother her again.

“Where’d you get those drinks from?” She asked, pointing at Seulgi’s.

“From the open bar.” Seulgi said while pointing with her head towards a long table only a few feet away from us, littered with all sorts of alcohol, four people behind the table handing everyone a red cup as they walked up to them. Two vampires and two werewolves, I could only hope Seulgi accepted our drinks from the vampires.

“Let’s grab some!” Krystal said excitedly, and I nodded, downing my beer and throwing the crumpled can to the ground as I followed after them.

“Wait for me, I need a refill!”

“Already?” Irene asked with wide eyes and I grinned as I nodded, holding my empty red cup up.

“I’m getting wasted tonight.” I chuckled as the girls gave me weary looks, but commented nothing on it.

And wasted I got not even two hours into the party. The world was a little fuzzy and hazy around me, but I maneuvered myself around the crowd quite skillfully, I was one hundred percent sure that someone from the outside wouldn’t have been able to tell that I was, well, drunk. Maybe the way my laughter got louder and more frequent would’ve been a tell-tale sign that, perhaps, I should take it easy on the alcohol from now on, but nobody paid enough attention to me to actually stop me from doing so. Irene and Seulgi were perhaps even drunker than I was, falling over each other and giggling at everything as they whispered in each other’s ears, completely forgetting that with our sensitive hearing we could still hear them if we listened closely. But I was too in my own head to be curious of their conversation, and instead found myself in a heated debate with Krystal and a druid friend of hers about which herbs were actually healing, and which were known to have healing proprieties but weren’t actually used to heal, but to poison instead. Of course, I thought I was quite right at the beginning about some black roots I have found two weeks ago in the forest, but turns out it only gives you diarrhea if you drink it two days in a row. Which was excellent, and perhaps a piece of information I shouldn’t bear as my mind instantly went to Mingi, making me cackle to myself. Krystal said nothing despite me probably looking like a mad woman, and instead came to my aid when she noticed me trying to stand up from the log we had been lounging on for the past one hour.

“I’m getting a drink,” I mumbled, rubbing my eyes for a second as the world swirled with me upon standing up, “and then I’m going to dance, want to come?”

Krystal hummed, looking around the bonfire, eyes pausing on somebody I couldn’t see due to my alcohol infused brain, “Perhaps later, would you mind that?”

“Of course not!” I exclaimed with a grin and petted her head, albeit a little too aggressively, before turning my head to look for Irene and Seulgi…but they weren’t where we had left them not even fifteen minutes ago. My eyes narrowed as I searched the place, closing my eyes to tune into their voices, listening closely, but failing as there were too many voices surrounding me. On a normal day, finding them even a crowd as big and loud as this one would’ve been child’s splay, but with my fogged-up brain, it turned out to be mission impossible right now. And closing my eyes made me feel nauseous, so I quickly opened them and with a drunken wave directed at Krystal, I took off towards the open bar. I was quite skilled at walking in a straight line without bumping into anyone despite my current state, and could only grin at the people behind the table once I arrived there. I failed to notice the werewolf dude leaning over the table, asking what I wanted. I held up one finger before pointing at the beer, and he handed it to me quickly with a smile, making me chuckle as I opened it and took a big gulp of it. He chuckled and cheered for me, making me wink at him before I turned and took off, headed towards the lake house. I had been in the mood to dance for hours now, but the girls kept me busy with stories, and I continuously kept bumping into people I knew, forced to converse with each one. But now, finally the time to join the dance floor came, and I felt giddy as I sped up, not noticing that I was using my vampire speed, the world blurring even more in front of my eyes, that is until my body slammed into another one, halting me back with a loud gasp as the beer was slapped out of my hand.

“What the fuck?!” I called out loudly, pushing my arm out in front of me as my arm dripped with disgusting beer. The music was louder as I was almost near the lake house.

“Sorry, I wasn’t—oh.” My eyes snapped up at the sudden attitude in the tone of the person who had run into me, only needing a few seconds for the wet dog stench to register, the blonde hair of the deceitful girl standing in front of me way too familiar.

“You.” I snarled, eyes darkening as my fangs appeared, out of control due to the alcohol in my system at this point as I glared down at the shorter girl in front of myself. Yeri’s eyes were just as dark as mine, her hands balled into fists as her cheeks were flushed red, “What the fuck are you doing here, little dog? This party is for seniors, and you’re not even a junior.”

“Fuck off, bitch!” Yeri snapped, growling at me, sending me into a giggling fit as I stared the younger girl down, raising an eyebrow.

“Did one of your disgusting brother’s snuggle you inside?” I tilted my head to the side, pouting my lips in mockery, “Or did you slip in by yourself? How about I show you where wet dog’s like you belong?”

“Don’t touch me!” Yeri yelped when my hand shoot out, wrapping around her bicep painfully, my eyes flashing scarlet red.

“I keep telling your brother the same thing, yet he never listening, little Yeri.” I sighed loudly, making fake crying sounds in my drunken stupor, “How about I teach him a lesson through you?”

I flashed my fangs as I stepped all up in Yeri’s personal space, her eyes widening in fright as she started yanking on her arm, her heartbeat fast in panic.

“If you struggle, it’ll only hurt more.” I whispered menacingly as I started leaning closer to her neck, grabbing her other arm with my free hand, stilling her movements with my inhumane strength. The girl whimpered loudly and I watched as her lips trembled in fright, shaking her head furiously no. I grinned sadistically at her, chuckling when I got close enough to her neck, hearing her quiet sniffs as she had started crying, “How pathetic.”

I loosened my grip on her and she instantly pushed me away to the point I staggered backwards, almost loosing my footing as the world swirled with me, “You fucking psychotic bitch!”

Yeri cried at the top of her lungs, a few night creatures glancing our way, but they continued walking on when they saw that nothing bad was actually happening, “Oh, little puppy got scared? How sad!”

“I will rip you to fucking shreds when I have my first shifting!” Yeri screamed, voice shrill and breathing heavily as I threw my head back in laughter, gulping down the sudden wave of nausea which hit me.

“Stupid dog, in your place I’d be more worried about growing a beard!” I stuck my tongue out at Yeri in child-like mockery, and watched as her eyes widened to the point of popping, choking back a scream. I just laughed as she threw me one last furious glare before turning around and storming off, her mumbling quite loud as I laughed hearing her curse me to the heavens and back.

“Great, now my beer is gone.” I grumbled to myself once Yeri was out of sight and not entertaining me anymore, making me sigh as I remembered my mission before I was interrupted by the stupid girl. I turned around and grinned as I spotted the door to the lake house open, and once again using my vampire speed, I waltzed inside quite clumsily, knocking into the doorframe and groaning as I stumbled towards. Somebody caught me but I quickly shook their hands off, and pushed my way through the crowd, settling somewhere towards the middle of it, closing my eyes and getting lost to the even beat of the EDM music playing.

I smiled as I threw my arms up, jumping to the beat, until I felt someone tapping my shoulder, making me turn around. It was a girl I knew from one of my classes and she looked quite excited as she waved, making me chuckle as I waved back. She was quite the cute fae and extremely friendly, so I didn’t object as she pushed a red cup into my hands, prompting me to drink from it. Perhaps it was the tastiest cocktail I drank all night long, and I thanked her with a big grin when she said I could keep it. I closed my eyes and swayed my hips to the rhythm of the music, enjoying myself with the small fae girl as she twirled around cutely, making me laugh at some of her movements as I found them hilarious, but endearing. The DJ suddenly changed the song and everyone screamed, making me excited as it was one of my favorite song’s, the fae girl’s eyes also widening as she grabbed my arm and started jumping up and down in excitement. Soon, I found myself taking large gulps of the sweet cocktail as I jumped up and down with the fae, screaming the lyrics at the top of our lungs as we were just two drunken bodies enjoying ourselves in the crowd of the night creatures. That is, however, until I felt a harsh grip on my right bicep, forcefully yanking me backwards and away from my fae friend. My eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and I pouted when the fae girl suddenly stepped back, eyes wide and set behind me before she got lost in the crowd, my body whirled around so fast that everything went hazy around me, and I was forced to shut my eyes for a few moments, stomach doing weird flips. It also didn’t help that suddenly it smelled like wet dogs.

“Listen here, bloodsucker,” A deep and raspy male voice hissed, my eyes snapping open as I found myself face to face with Mingi, “you can insult me and threaten me all day long, if you want, but if you touch my sister one more time, Y/N, I will rip you apart!”

I stared into Mingi’s handsome face for a second, and then the next I was laughing, head falling back as my body shook with the motion, hardly able to control myself in my inebriated state. But my fun didn’t last for long as I felt the red cup slapped out of my hand, making my blood boil as I glared at Mingi.

“This is the second time one of you, Song wet dog’s, slap my drink out of my hand, Mingi,” I hissed, unimpressed at this point, “It’s getting tiring and annoying.”

“I don’t give a shit about your drinks, Y/N,” Mingi growled, stepping closer, “What I do care about is you having a problem with my sister and—”

“Blah-blah-blah, Mingi.” I scoffed, pulling on my arm, but Mingi’s grip only tightened, “Quit yapping, I don’t give a shit. You’re irrelevant, irritating, and you fucking stink.”

“Listen to me, you fucking entitled bitch!” Mingi’s raw voice boomed over the music as he grabbed me by both arms, shaking my body harshly as his breathing got heavier, heart thumping wildly in his chest. I chuckled and bit my lower lip, surprised by this new side of Mingi. His breath was mingled with alcohol, no wonder he was acting so wild all of a sudden, not that he usually wasn’t. It was just…more raw tonight, seemed more sincere than before, “I want you to leave my family alone. We’ve had enough of your torment and constant taunts, what the fuck did we do to you?!”

I groaned and threw my head back to stare at the dark ceiling of the lake house, “You’re just too dense, Mingi, aren’t you? Do you seriously want me to go on a rant and repeat every single thing I’ve told you these past two days? You have no place at Wilden Pine Academy, let alone in Nocturnal Parade.”

“I’m done with this conversation,” Mingi hissed through his teeth, making me smirk as he stepped back, letting go of my arms finally.

“Are you?” I mocked as I cocked an eyebrow at him, blinking at him sweetly, “I thought you were here to put me in my place for touching your precious little sister. She’s quite dumb, by the way, but I suppose it runs in the family.”

Mingi didn’t say anything, but it wasn’t hard to miss the way his jaw clenched, ebbing me on more to continue taunting him. I felt confident as I allowed my eyes to run over his body, taking in his tall and lanky form. The dark grey jeans hung loosely around his lower half, a little low on his hips, held in place by the thick belt he wore, making him look like a cowboy, almost. There were quite big rips in his jeans, the lower half of his thighs uncovered just to below his knees, a quite delicious sight for hungry eyes. I slowly dragged my eyes up, and perhaps, they lingered a tad bit too long on his narrow waist, the black muscle shirt tucked inside his jeans clinging deliciously tight against his lean muscles, which were not too harsh, but quite obvious now that he was out of his loose Academy uniform. I knew werewolves were night creatures with higher body temperature, but it was still a bit surprising that he didn’t wear a jacket, his neck decorated with various silver chains, similar much to the collars dogs would wear. I giggled at my own thoughts as I finally looked back into Mingi’s eyes, forgetting for a second where I was going with this, or what I initially had in mind as I felt my own heartrate pick up, almost matching Mingi’s. I failed to notice his fluffy hair was out of his day-to-day manbun, lusciously falling around his face, framing his sharp eyes which looked even sharper with the harsh black eyeliner rimming them.

“Nice necklaces, Mingi,” I complimented, twirling my finger around a chain until Mingi slapped it away with a hiss, “reminds me of dogs and their collars their owners make them wear. Do you also have an owner?”

Mingi’s cheeks flared in an instant, and I wasn’t surprise to see his eyes flash orchid, flickering back to their warm brown color the next second. I tilted my head and licked my lips as I stepped just a bit closer, suddenly meowing at him in a mocking way, “Do big, bad, dogs like you like little kitties too?”

It really happened in a flash, perhaps in a sober state I would’ve been impressed by how fast he moved even for a werewolf, but all of my senses were dull at the moment as my world was hazy, and all I could do was remain frozen in surprise as Mingi’s large hand took ahold of my neck and tightly wrapped around it, his silver rings digging into my skin. His puffs of breath hit my face as he was breathing hard, and I could hear the blood race through his veins, flush to his head deliciously as his heart thumped wildly, the strange cinnamon scent I have smelled before on him very prominent all of a sudden. My blood ran cold as Mingi’s eyes flashed orchid again, fingers squeezing my throat just a bit more, but now it hurt. However, I felt my heart race pick up as butterflies flew freely in my stomach, making me giggle breathlessly. The alcohol could really make you a fool if it wanted to, if you allowed it to.

“Will you snap my neck in half?” I whispered against Mingi’s lips, almost touching, knowing well that he could hear me crystal clear. Mingi sucked in a harsh breath of air, shaking his head, body trembling. I smirked, very aware of the conflicting emotions on Mingi’s face, and of the growing and shrinking claws against the soft skin of my neck. He really could’ve snapped my neck in half right then and there if he wanted to, and I would’ve been too drunk to realize it in time and defend myself. Making it even worse, I was the one asking for it, edging him on, laughing danger in its face, forgetting why I hate werewolves so much. Forgetting that I almost lost my life because of one of them.

Perhaps the planets stilled and galaxies aligned as one, and not even that could’ve prepared me for Mingi’s next actions, or the crippling shock I felt in my body, as Mingi pulled my body into his, ferociously chasing after my red lips as his plump ones found mine, inhaling them as he sucked on my lower lip, my body too numb on the inside to show on the outside the shock I was feeling. His teeth clamped down on my bottom lip painfully so, making me gasp as I yanked my head back, very aware of Mingi’s huge palm kneading the flesh of my ass through my jeans, forcing a hysteric laugh out of my body as I threw an arm around his shoulders, feeling weak all of a sudden, and needing something to anchor myself in. My laughter was high-pitched and extremely loud, but it didn’t deter Mingi from me as I felt his left hand grab my nape and yank my head back up, our eyes boring into each other.

“What the fuck, Mingi.” I found myself chuckling, fingers tangling into his soft hair, grip firm and painful as Mingi grimaced slightly.

“Fuck you, Y/N.” Mingi’s growl was animalistic as he crashed our lips together again, the dancing bodies around us forcing us closer together, flushed to the point where I didn’t know where Mingi ended and where I began. His lips set a feracious pace, slotting perfectly against mine, inhaling my breath like I was his only oxygen supply. I didn’t realize it in that moment, but I clung onto him as if my life depended on it, as if he was my life source and I desperately needed him. I sucked and bit at his lips, unashamedly moaning when his hand grabbed onto my ass firmly, rocking our lower bodies in sync to the rhythm of the song while he inhaled my lips, thumb pressing into my cheek painfully as he had grabbed my jaw, keeping me in place, refusing to allow me to pull my head back again. I sucked on his plump lower lip, hearing a small whimper slip through his lips as they parted, granting me the access inside his mouth as I pushed my tongue through his parted lips, forcing his mouth open wider. Mingi groaned deep in his throat, fingers slotting back into my hair and yanking harshly on it, making me gasp as he refused to let me dominate the kiss as his tongue lapped at mine, forcefully entering my own mouth, tilting my head in a way that would grant him even more access to reach deeper. My only body felt alive the longer Mingi’s mouth pressed against mine, no matter the pain as I fisted his muscle shirt, struggling to keep my moans at bay as Mingi’s hand slipped inside the back pocket of my jeans, cupping my ass and guiding my body against his as they grinded together to the music. His tongue was hot as it explored my mouth, licking at every corner, making my breath still as he licked at my fangs almost mockingly, almost as if he tried to draw his own blood, making my head thump with wild lust I’ve never felt before. I didn’t think much, clearly, as I felt with my right hand down his broad shoulders, firm chest, and abdomen, slipping between our bodies without Mingi noticing. My lungs screamed for air, but I refused to pull back first, grabbing at Mingi’s hard-on through his jeans, eliciting a choked back moan. Putting pressure on his dick with the heel of my hand, I started massaging him, Mingi’s breath hitching as he flushed our bodies together even more if that was possible, no longer paying any attention to the music or keeping up with the dancing bodies in the crowd around us. The longer I kept on rubbing his dick slowly but firmly, the sloppier Mingi’s kisses got, gasps and groans slipping past his occupied mouth. I smirked against his slick lips, and felt triumphant when he was the first one to pull back, gasping against my mouth as a string of saliva connected our mouths together still, Mingi’s eyebrows scrunched up in pleasure as I raised my hand enough to slip it inside his jeans, the belt not making it much too difficult to do so. My eyes widened when I realized Mingi wore no underwear, and my throat became drier instantly at the thought of how easy he made everything as my fingers slowly wrapped around his bare member.

“Fuck, not here.” Mingi’s deep voice was raspy and raw as he grabbed my wrist, biting his swollen lower lip.

I chuckled, licking at his red lips, enticed by the flush of his cheeks as I tightened my grip around his shaft, making him gasp in pleasure, “So the big, bad, dog does like playing with kitties, after all.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Mingi hissed, eyes narrowing into slits as he glared at me, yanking my hand out of his jeans, his long and sharp nose pressing against mine, “You won’t be calling me no dog after tonight.”

Something lay heavily on my chest, hot air tickling the sore skin of my neck. Not much needed to be said as I groaned lowly, all of my muscles feeling heavy and sore, head thumping violently due to the ticking of a clock, which seemed to only become louder and louder, too piercing to my sensitive ears in the quiet of my room. My mouth felt dry and my throat almost felt like burning up, the feeling quite similar to bloodthirst, which wouldn’t make much sense as I have fed yesterday. I wasn’t thirsty, yet my body felt alive, almost alert, as I sighed softly, trying to stretch out my muscles, but unable to move, almost as if I was pinned down by something. I licked my lips and rubbed at my eyes, suddenly registering the foreign scents mingling together around me. The scent of cinnamon was nauseatingly overbearing, making my stomach flip when it mixed with fresh grass, somehow clashing with a completely different scent that reminded me a lot of those stupid wet dogs. Werewolves, only they smelled like that.

My eyes flew open, heartbeat kicking off in a frenzy as my dry eyes burned, having to blink them multiple times until the ache went away, telling myself that this must be just a bad dream as the room I found myself in looked nothing like the dorm room I share with Irene. It was scaringly the opposite of it, quite messy and littered with boyish things, a family picture framed, and placed on the wall opposite the bed I lay in, almost making me scream at the top of my lungs as my eyes swept over the Song family. I jumped when a soft breath tickled the skin of my neck again, and my jaw dropped as I finally took the bother to look down at myself, muscles locking up, and a scream choked back in the back of my throat as I lay frozen with an asleep Song Mingi on top of me, naked. Both of us were naked, and I felt myself starting to panic as I licked my chapped lips, pressing my head back harshly into the pillow, racking my brain for any memories of last night, coming up almost empty handed after my fifth red cup, everything a haze as I desperately tried to find the reason why I was in Mingi’s room, laying naked in bed, and why we have even slept in the same bed…naked.

And the blurry pieces of my recollection that I managed to find were horrifying as obscene memories flooded my mind, heart fluttering and cheeks flaming as Mingi’s breathless moans all of a sudden felt too loud in my ears, his strong body looming over mine as he kissed down my neck, gasping for air when my hand tightened just a little bit harder around his dick, hand moving up and down fast. It made Mingi whimper as he whispered in my ear that he was close to coming, sucking and biting on the soft flesh of my neck, making me moan as his hand cupped my breast, kneading it and squeezing it, body yearning to feel more of him.

But the memory became hazy again, and as I gripped my hair in frustration, I was shocked to find myself just barely remembering Mingi’s face scrunched in pure bliss, head thrown back as his calloused hands gripped my hips to the point of bruising, his hips pistoning upwards as my thighs trembled with my body leaned over him and hands holding onto the headboard as I rode him, our loud moans tangling together in wanton noises, no doubt disturbing Mingi’s neighbors. I could remember my heart beating out of my chest as my orgasm was quickly approaching, hip movements picking up as I started moving up and down faster, calling out Mingi’s name when his thumb found my clit, his eyes suddenly flashing orchid as he growled, letting me fuck myself on him as he looked up at me with the hungriest look in his eyes.

My breath stuttered in my throat as I tried to push the memory away, appalled by the way my body felt hot all over suddenly, Mingi’s naked weight pressing down on me not helping my situation at all as another stray fogged-up memory lurked at the back of my mind, fighting to push through, despite my attempts to keep it at bay. But it was a lost cause as I licked my lips, remembering the feel of Mingi’s lean body above mine and pressing into me, slick with sweat as Mingi’s mouth was parted, puffs of breath leaving his lips with each sharp thrust of his hips, hiking my body a little higher after each one due to the sheer force he was using, my toes curling and fingers gripping the sheets overhead. Mingi had one of my leg’s pushed flushed to my chest as he used it as leverage to turn his pace brutal, my other leg wrapped around his waist, digging into his backside, as I urged him on to move rougher as his thick member pulsed inside my tight walls, tears springing into my eyes when my third orgasm was fast approaching, my body too sensitive to take any more, but Mingi wasn’t stopping. He clamped his free hand down on my mouth as I was borderline screaming, body completely numb at this point as Mingi desperately chased after his own release, growls escaping through his parted lips as his orchid-colored eyes bore into my scarlet ones. Never have I ever felt such intense pleasure before, and I almost had to slap myself to push the memory away, skin tingling as Mingi suddenly shifted on top of me, lips brushing against my collarbones. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, gathering my thoughts and trying to remain level-headed, but the more the realization that I have slept with Mingi dawned on me, the more hysterical I started feeling. My body trembled in anger, and confusion over how much I liked it and how much my body was yearning for it again.

I did the next best thing I could, raised my hand and whacked Mingi in the back of his head hard, making him jump up with a loud growl and eyes orchid. He looked around the room frantically as his lower half pressed into mine, making my heartbeat quicken. It took Mingi almost the same amount of time as for me to realize just what happened, and as he whipped his head around, eyes back to their usual brown, his mouth fell open, and a very shrill scream left his lungs, making me close my eyes in pain as my ears rung.

“What the fuck!” Mingi continued to scream, horrified eyes looking at me, then at himself, continuing to do so for a few minutes until I realized he was basically looking at my naked breasts, making me smack him in the face, but not in a painful way, “What the fuck?!”

“Shut up!” I screamed back at Mingi as my head thumped violently, his screaming only adding onto my migraine and hangover.

“What are you doing in my bed naked?!” Mingi still seemed too shocked to move, and I pushed his head away so that he wouldn’t look at me anymore. I went to wriggle out from underneath him, but that only made matters worse as I rubbed up against his morning wood, making me gasp as my body instantly reacted, wanting nothing more than to spread my legs wide open for Mingi, a thought so terrifying that I froze. I didn’t miss Mingi’s sharp inhale and his reddening cheeks.

“What do you think, you fucking idiot?!” I managed to fire back, Mingi suddenly realizing just how naked we were as he rolled over, finally his body off mine. I finally felt like I could breathe as I rolled to my side as well, shielding my private parts from him as the sheet on us wasn’t big enough to cover the both of us anymore.

“Oh, my God,” Mingi sounded mortified and I felt the bed dip behind myself, “Where’s Yunho? Did he not come back here?”

“I fucking hope not!” I snapped as I sharply turned around, pushing Mingi hard, kicking him off his bed as he yelped loudly, hitting the carpeted floor with a heavy thud.

“What the fuck!” He called out, reaching a hand up and ripping the sheet covering me off, to shield himself. I yelped and scattered off the bed as well, wildly looking for my clothes, thankfully finding them disregarded by the bed as I used my inhumane speed to dress myself before Mingi could see me.

“Did we—why were you naked in my bed?!” Mingi stood, sheet wrapped around himself like a burrito, only his head visible as his face looked pale. He better was just as hungover as I as I struggled to button my jeans due to it, blood boiling at his stupid question.

“What do you think, you stupid boy?!” I hissed, scarlet eyes snapping onto him menacingly, “Surely not because we read the Holy Book Of The Clergy!”

“Don’t bring up the Clergy right now, oh, my God!” Mingi looked mortified as he looked around, eyes pausing on his family photo, face blenching even more, “We had sex.”

“You don’t say!” I snapped accusingly, eyes falling on the clock, mortified when I realized I barely had an hour to get ready until the gates of the Academy would open for all parents to be welcomed. I went to throw the door open just as Mingi marched up to me, grabbing me by my arm, face hard, and eyes set in a glare.

“Get out.” He snapped, grabbing the doorknob, the sheet wrapped around his body almost falling to the floor. I scoffed and yanked my arm out of his, glaring back just as viciously.

“You hypocrite,” I pushed him back, sneering at him, “you act like I’m the one who put my dick inside of you.”

“I don’t doubt you wouldn’t have, if you had one!” I huffed as I was appalled, my eyes turning scarlet once again as Mingi scoffed at me

“I’m pretty sure you started this on the dancefloor, Mingi—”

“Don’t say my name!” Mingi cringed, turning around and pulling the sheet over his head as he started wailing silently. I rolled my eyes at his theatrics and went to leave the room, never wanting to see his stupid face again, until I remembered just how big of a louse mouth Mingi actually was, and it made my heart thump wildly in fear that he’d go around blabbering about what we had done. So, I turned sharply, and using my vampire speed, appeared in front of Mingi, clutching his throat tightly, only to be faced with no face and only a white sheet. I closed my eyes in exasperation as Mingi gasped and started wailing that he couldn’t breathe, so, I ripped the sheet off his head, glaring at him, almost amused by the way his blonde and red hair stuck up in all directions.

“If you say anything to anyone, Song Mingi, I swear to you right now, that I will suck your blood dry and eradicate your whole family afterwards.” Mingi’s nose scrunched in disgust as I leered the words at him, my fangs menacing, and scarlet eyes terrifying. When Mingi didn’t say anything, I tightened my fingers around his neck, making him roll his eyes at me.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Y/N, I wouldn’t want a soul to know about this.” I narrowed my eyes at him, but upon being convinced based on his heartbeat and stoic face that he was saying the truth, I released him and left his room in a hurry once making sure that nobody would see me. Was it really necessary that my days would turn into nightmares each day lately?

The image I was presented with when I looked in the mirror in my own room was nightmarish, mouth falling open when I saw the dark bruises creating a whole constellation on my neck. I needed a few minutes to calm myself as I took in deep breaths, otherwise Mingi would be laying now in a puddle of his own blood. The sight of myself was disappointing, and I couldn’t help but feel angry with myself for letting this happen. If we weren’t so drunk this would’ve never happened. I can’t believe I let a werewolf touch me…let alone in such inappropriate ways. My mind kept trying to wander off to memories of last night with Mingi, but I forced myself to focus and forget everything that happened, marking it as a stupid drunken mistake that would never again happen. Despite having barely an hour to get ready, I was done in record time. I was fresh and clean after the deep cleanse shower I took, all bruises and miscolored spots instantly covered up afterwards. I curled my hair nicely and applied very light makeup, adding a little color to my pale cheeks and lips, wearing the dress my mother sent. Irene thankfully helped me change it a bit, and now it was up to my taste as I wore my black high heels to match the color of my nails, and left the dorms, not wanting to be late when my parents would arrive. I would certainly get chastised for it, and my still thumping head wouldn’t have been able to take that as well. I was finally regretting the fact that I mixed so many drinks last night and that there wasn’t anyone to stop me from wrecking myself. Surviving today would prove to be almost an impossible mission.

By the time I made it to the gardens, it was buzzing to the brim with students, the younger ones all excited to see their parents, the older ones not as quite happily waiting for them. I easily found Irene in the crowd as I smelled her sweet perfume, and came to stand next to her, arms crossed over my chest as I grimaced when the fifth graders kept cheering and screaming in our vicinity. I didn’t want to ruin the moods of those poor children, but if they didn’t shut up soon, my head would surely explode.

“Oh, Y/N,” Irene said as she finally noticed me, her eyebrows furrowing as she took me in, snapping me out of glaring at a blonde little girl, “When did you arrive? I didn’t notice you.”

I sighed and looked at her tiredly, my muscles quite sore after…the night I had, “Just now, this is dreadful.”

Irene chuckled as she followed my sight, which was back on the loud kids, “Well, yes, you shouldn’t have had so much to drink last night…”

I rolled my eyes, looking back at my friend, “Look who’s talking. I thought friends are supposed to stop you from doing stupid shit? Oh, well, you couldn’t possibly have done so since you disappeared with Seulgi, again.”

Irene blushed and looked away abashed, clearing her throat awkwardly, “Sorry about that, won’t happen again, I promise.”

“Yeah, right.” I chuckled unamused, knowing very well they will most likely disappear off to somewhere together the second they get the chance to. Irene looked at me with a small smile, twirling a strand of hair around her finger, lightly bumping her shoulder against mine. I watched as her eyebrows slowly furrowed and nose scrunched, leaning closer to sniff me. I yanked my head back and gave her a confused look, Irene looking even more confused, “What?”

“Uh,” She paused, sniffing me again deeply, her eyebrows raising in mild interest, “Y/N, you kinda smell like those werewolves you hate so much…”

“What?!” I snapped, heart somersaulting in my ribcage as I raised my arms to sniff them thoroughly, then raised the front of my dress too, but smelled nothing peculiar, “No, I don’t. What are you talking about?!”

“I mean, you kinda do,” Irene looked at me like I was crazy, “Especially that Mingi guy—”

“No, I don’t.” I hissed, looming over my best friend, muscles tense and blood boiling, “And don’t ever again bring him up!”

Before Irene could react or even look at me like I was crazy, I stormed off towards the opened gates just as my parents car rolled up, their butler getting off first to open the door for them. I took a deep breath and brushed all thoughts aside, assuring myself that the copious shower and intense perfume I downed on myself surely masked any remaining scent of Mingi’s on my body, Irene must’ve smelled it wrong. Perhaps Mingi was lurking around and that’s why she felt his scent on me.

Two more hours. I only had to survive two more hours of this mayhem until the gates would be closed once again, parents away, serenity coating the Academy once again. I was barely holding on at this point, ears ringing to the point I barely heard anyone talking to me, and head thumping so violently I would’ve willingly asked Mingi to rip my head off. But I had to keep an image, and therefore, I made sure to drink lots of water and mask everything I felt under a small smile that would turn into a grimace whenever nobody was looking at me. Our table was simple and small as it only consisted of my parents and I, and it was more towards the middle of the garden, of course, the prestigious families sat closely together, Irene’s just to our left, with Seulgi a few tables down, Krystal’s nowhere in sight as the druids were seated more towards the entrance, close to the faes. My father and mother found this opportunity perfect to spread their business ideas to the other night creatures, thankfully not bothering me as much as I thought they would. However, the second we sat down to eat is when the real headache started as they drilled me with questions and didn’t fail to remind me of our principles and rules that I must follow at all times.

When my mother saw me, she wasn’t too keen of the changes done to the dress, but she said nothing as she enveloped me in a big hug, smiling at me brightly as she pulled away, her skin absolutely perfect and glinting in the sunlight. She looked very young, almost younger than me, her vampire genes certainly more on the fortunate side, thankfully passed down to me as well. My father was less affectionate, but he was quick to offer me a side hug and smile at me cheekily, playfully asking if I had been up to no good last night as he apparently knew about the bonfire party. I merely laughed and brushed it off, assuring him that I was in bed by twelve, my beauty sleep absolutely necessary. They didn’t have to know of my endeavors last night, not that they would’ve been against me mingling with a werewolf, the opposite, my parents were huge werewolf lovers and supporters. After the clergy, they were the first ones to preach unity between our kinds, urging everyone to love and respect each other, to live in harmony. One would think almost losing their only daughter to a monster would scar them, but they only became bigger believers of the necessity of peace between us, using me as an example quite often. Perhaps my parents played a significant part in my life when it came to me hating werewolves so much.

Barely even half an hour had passed since their arrival when I felt my mother adjusting my hair and telling me to stand up straight, eyebrows furrowed as she kept leaning close, inspecting my face closely. She muttered about the skin of my neck being darker, and for a second, I thought the coverage came off, but my father just told her to leave me alone as nothing was wrong with my neck. I knew my mother would keep a scrutinizing eye on me, but I hoped she wouldn’t try to spot every little flaw about me today. However, that wasn’t the case as she pinched her nose and threw me a disgusted look. I paled, mouth hanging open as she cleared her throat, slapping my father’s arm as she motioned towards me.

“Sweetheart, doesn’t she smell a bit funny today?” She had asked my father, making me freeze as they both stared at me. I felt like a little child all over again.

“Not at all, let the girl relax a little, dear, she’s been tense all day,” My father had sighed and had gently pulled me into his side, chuckling, “She’s walking a bit funny, I bet those physical training classes are quite challenging for you.”

If my face looked as mortified as I had felt in that moment, my parents said nothing about it, they just hummed to each other and let me off, asking me to walk with them as they caught up with old acquittances and present business partners. I wanted to burry myself hearing my parents words, but I just brushed them off and laughed anytime someone mentioned my scent being a little different, hands clenching behind my back into fists, itching to connect with Mingi’s sharp jaw.

Finally, my parents have grown bored of talking to everyone and we were seated at our table currently, them enjoying the copious amount of food placed on our table, me, not so much. I ate very little and told them that I have fed earlier in the morning and wasn’t feeling too keen about having human food as well, which, thankfully, they accepted and didn’t push for more answers. The truth was that I would’ve thrown up right then and there if they would’ve forced me to eat the raw meat on my plate. My eyes were trained on the Song family’s table as my eardrums shook each time they roared with laughter, falling off chairs and conversing just way too loudly taken the setting we were in. I grit my teeth as the sunlight fell perfectly on Mingi’s face, coating him in a golden hue as his longish hair had little braids in it, highlighting the red against his blonde hair. Everything about him was infuriating, and I gulped when my stomach started doing weird flips upon hearing his laughter. His mouth opened wide and his head fell back, body shaking in time with his wheezes, soft skin looking like precious gemstones glinting under the sunlight. I scoffed and grabbed my tall glass, taking a sip of my orange juice as Wooyoung’s witchy laughter pierced my ears, making me shut my eyes in pain.

“Are you still sensitive, love?” My father’s gruff voice made my eyes snap open as I averted my gaze from the Song’s, looking at my father with a forced smile on my lips.

“Yes, some days it’s worse than others.” I explained, making him hum as he looked at my mother.

“Well, that’s not exactly healthy,” He muttered under his breath before shaking his head, “but many things changed in your immune system after you were bitten—”

“I don’t want to talk about this here.” I snapped, voice harsh and body tense as my grip tightened around my glass. Anyone could hear us. My faded bite mark suddenly started pulsating hotly against my skin and I gulped, heartrate accelerating.

“Dear, it’s nothing to be ashamed of—”

“Mother,” I snapped, eyes shooting to her, “Not here.”

My parents fell silent as I remained tense, shooting them piercing stares, the two of them sighing in sync as my mother leaned back in her chair, looking defeated.

“Well, I’m just glad you’re doing alright.” My father suddenly smiled and reached over the table, patting my hand a few times. I nodded with a silent hum and took another gulp of my orange juice, eyes finding the Song table again as they roared with laughter once again. I was about to sneer in their direction, when I realized Mingi was already looking at me, eyebrows lightly furrowed. I threw him a piercing stare, making him avert his gaze as he joined the cheers of his family, making me scoff.

“Aren’t they just a lovely bunch?” My mother mused with a dreamy sigh, “I have always wished vampires were able to reproduce more than once. Imagine all the little fangs we’d find once they fell out, little toes hitting the floorboards loudly, the giggles resounding in our vast mansion, the warm feeling of being a big family.”

Nothing could’ve sounded more horrible than the exact same thing my mother was describing. My father chuckled and took a sip of his wine, watching the Song family too now, “I bet those five pups were rascals while growing up.”

“Still are.” I muttered underneath my breath, thankful that my parents were too busy staring yearningly at the Song family.

“I love the warm and homey feeling they spread around themselves,” My mother smiled fondly, looking back at me, making me sick to my stomach when I saw the look in her eyes, “They truly are a treasure to Nocturnal Parade, lighting up every corner they pass with their positive energy. You’re lucky you get to go to the Academy at the same time as the pups.”

“Lucky,” I almost snorted, but quickly masked it as I took another sip of my orange juice, eyes finding Mingi’s again, “You’re right. I’m so lucky.”

For some unknown reason, I felt enticed by Mingi’s eyes on me, mind fuzzy for a second as I watched him stand and excuse himself from his parents, headed towards the side of the garden where large pillars kept the construction of the greenhouse up. My jaw ticked and I took a deep breath, trying to fight the sudden urge to go after Mingi, but I figured he deserved to be chastised for leaving his strong scent all over me, so, I quickly stood and told my parents I would be back as I tried not to hurry after him, instead ended up doing a speedwalk towards Mingi. When I came up behind him, I grabbed his arm and yanked him after me, away from the prying eyes and curious glances, behind a tall pillar, silence finally enveloping around me as I was away from the loud chatter and laughter of the gardens.

“What are you—”

“Why do I still smell like you?!” I snapped, glaring at Mingi as he pulled his arm out of my grip rather harshly, “Everyone can tell, Mingi! I thought nobody was supposed to know about—”

“And nobody knows, alright?!” Mingi snapped back, eyebrows furrowed as he didn’t look me in the eyes, “It’s not my fault you smell like me. It happens with anyone, not just me, Y/N.”

“Well nobody else’s scent I’ve slept with was as strong as yours, so it is your fault.” I hissed back, stepping closer, confused as to why Mingi wasn’t looking me in the face. Something felt off, something was wrong. I could simply feel it. There was a nervosity in my system that wasn’t there before, I almost felt the way Mingi looked. My faced blanked as something dropped deep in my stomach, eyebrows furrowing at the sudden need to reach out and touch Mingi. There was something so magnetic about him, something so luring that I stepped back with a gasp, watching Mingi alarmed and confused as his head whipped up.

“What have you done to me?” I asked in a whisper, hugging myself, trying to comfort myself as Mingi’s mouth fell open, gaping at me. The color drained from his face and my heartrate matched his as it started racing, profoundly confused.

“No—nothing.” It wasn’t like Mingi to stutter, it wasn’t like Mingi to suddenly avert his eyes and look small. It unsettled me and made me feel more panicked as I took a step forward, eyebrows furrowing more.

“Mingi.” I hissed, leaning down to try and look into his eyes, but he just looked further away, “Something happened, didn’t it?”

“No?” Mingi sounded far away from being convincing and I licked my lips in frustration, reaching out and grabbing his elbow. Mingi’s head whipped up towards me suddenly, his body heat so overwhelming that I felt dizzy as his cinnamon scent entered my senses, so calming that I felt my tense muscles suddenly relax. It was too confusing, never having experienced something like it before.

“I—” Mingi hesitated, sounding almost breathless as he looked me in my eyes finally, “I have imprinted on you, Y/N.”

“What?!” I screamed, releasing his elbow as if it burned me, eyes bulging and jaw on the floor as everything stilled around me. Mingi looked nervous and embarrassed as his cheeks flushed red, clearing his throat when I said nothing else, hoping that he’d say that he was just pulling a stupid prank on me.

“Mingi.” I hissed, getting all up in his face in a sudden burst of anger, glaring at him furiously, “What do you mean you imprinted on me?!”

“Exactly that, Y/N, oh, my God.” Mingi groaned, rubbing his face, taking a deep breath.

“No.” I snapped, fisting his grey sweater, “I—I refuse. No, unimprint on me or something!”

“What?” Mingi looked confused, rolling his eyes, “I can’t unimprint on you—that word doesn’t even exist, Y/N.”

“I don’t care what word exists and doesn’t, Mingi.” I hissed, yanking him down to be eye level with me, “You can’t fucking imprint on me. I’m a vampire and you’re a werewolf. What is wrong with you?!”

“Nothing’s wrong with me, stop being a bitch!” Mingi hissed, gripping my wrists. Electricity coursed through my skin where he touched me and my eyes widened in fright, giving him a look, but it didn’t seem to phase Mingi.

“Do you imprint on everyone you sleep with?!” I hissed, body shaking in anger, heart beating fast. It wasn’t helping that Mingi looked calm, almost defeated, as if this was final and he had accepted his fate.

The glare he gave me was sharp and unimpressed, “That’s not what this was—”

“Really?!” My voice raised again, panic coating my voice, “Because we were completely fine until last night, Mingi! And now you’re telling me that—you—I—that we’re—mates?!”

“We’ll be mates if you accept me, I thought you knew this by now—”

“It doesn’t make any sense!” I exclaimed, breathing fast as Mingi’s fingers suddenly started rubbing the skin of my wrist softly, sighing quietly, “You can’t imprint on me.”

“Calm down first, your heart is beating like crazy.” Mingi whispered, voice soft and raspy, warm brown eyes boring into mine. I felt on the verge of teras as his warmth engulfed me, coating me in safety I’ve never felt before, a bubble of safety and calmness wrapping around us. He started taking slow deep breaths, making me subconsciously copy him as I felt myself relax once again, shake his hands off once I felt fine. I took a step back and was rather rattled when my body instantly yearned for Mingi’s. This was bad. Very bad.

“You need to sort this out, Mingi.” I gestured around wildly, eyes wide, “Whatever you do, I don’t care. But you can’t imprint on me.”

“Well, I already did.” Mingi seemed annoyed as his words felt sharp, giving me a pointed stare, “So accept it, because it won’t change.”

“You can’t just say that!” I whisper-shouted, feeling furious again as Mingi continued acting nonchalant about this whole ordeal.

“I’m not as horrible as you think I am—”

“Mingi.” I snapped, shaking my head at him, “No. Just no. We’re not having this conversation. Unimprint on me and we’re done, that’s it!”

“I just told you, I can’t possibly—”

“Mingi?” A quiet voice called out, soft and timid as I whirled around, Mingi walking past me instantly.

“Yes, Dahyun?” Mingi smiled, previous tension and anger gone from his face, and he crouched in front of his much shorter sister. Dahyun gave me a warry look before poking Mingi’s cheek, giggling.

“Mom and dad are wondering where you are,” She muttered, casting me another warry look, “I saw you walking off with the vampire that smells like you, so I told them I’ll bring you back.”

It wasn’t hard to notice Mingi’s body freeze at his younger sister’s words and I scoffed, completely flabbergasted that this little girl could tell I smelled like Mingi. This was the absolute worst, and I was close to simply ceasing my existence once and for all. Before they could say anything to me, I stormed past them, headed back to my table, thinking of excuses I could use to get my parents out of the garden and away from the Song family.

The past few days have been…silent, weird, different, empty, almost. They felt unsettling and I found myself unable to sleep at night, and even if I did, I would wake up in a cold sweat, chest heavy and lungs heaving for air. Something just simply didn’t feel alright and I knew there was nothing wrong with me per se, with my vampire being, yet something was affecting me rather harshly. And it was noticeable in my appearance as well. No matter how often and how much I fed, my skin looked sickly pale and the glow of my dense hair seemed absent no matter how much I tried fixing it. My cheeks had fallen slightly in, creating a hollowness in them that wasn’t there before. I looked like I was decaying and I didn’t understand why when I was completely healthy and fine. Yet, something was doing this to me and I couldn’t help but blame it on this whole imprinting thing, and Mingi. I haven’t seen him since Parents Day, and despite deciding to avoid him for an eternity, it seemed like Mingi had the same thing in mind as me. Even in our shared classes, he was nowhere to be seen. I couldn’t even smell him or hear him, yet Yunho was certainly there, his aura very much so present. Nobody said anything, perhaps too afraid to make a comment about my sickly appearance, and I knew I needed answers. I couldn’t go on like this anymore despite not wanting to see Mingi. There was something very wrong about my body, something internal and scarily real as the longer I stayed away from him, the stronger the yearning became. The heaviness in my chest only got worse with each ticking minute, and I knew I couldn’t go on like this anymore when I started listening in on the creatures’ conversations around me, searching for Mingi’s name, searching for his voice even, for his infuriatingly loud and obnoxious laughter, his unbearable stench, and his stupid siblings. I needed to put an end to my own suffering, therefore I decided to act like an adult for the first time in my life, and find Mingi in order to talk things through, even if I didn’t want to.

History of the Vampires was an excruciatingly long class and I couldn’t wait to be finished with it, unable to sit still as my mind kept wandering elsewhere, desperately trying to clock Mingi’s voice or even aura in the building. But it was harder to find him than I thought it would be, almost as if he was hiding himself from me, Yunho’s strong aura overbearing Mingi’s whenever they were together. And I knew those two were together as I searched for familiar voices conversing, lowering my head so that my professor wouldn’t notice my closed eyes as I focused on singling out Mingi’s raspy and deep voice amongst his siblings as they were out in the fields, not too far away from the classroom I was in. Dahyun was talking to him, and it was the first time I heard the younger girl’s voice for such a long period, animatedly retelling a story to Mingi about a boy she liked in her class. At first I thought Mingi wasn’t talking to her, until I realized Wooyoung and Yeri’s cackling was too loud for me to pinpoint Mingi’s soft voice as he muttered to Dahyun words I couldn’t understand. It felt alarming how easily I found myself wanting to know more about Mingi’s bond with his siblings, wondering whether I would fit in with them. And it was hard to listen to Mingi’s quiet voice as he departed with Yunho from the rest of their siblings, the twins headed to class as Mingi’s aura remained still dull, washed out by Yunho’s. I didn’t think masking one’s existence was possible, but then again, I didn’t know much about werewolves and their abilities as I always remained ignorant to them due to my hatred towards them.

Once class was over I excused myself from my friends in a hurry, finally able to pinpoint Mingi’s exact location as Yunho wasn’t so close to him anymore, making it easy for me to follow Mingi’s voice and scent. He was two floors below my classroom, having their own history class about Werewolves. By the time I got to the classroom not many students were there, however, I could hear a few still inside, Mingi included. Closing my eyes as I leaned against the stone wall, I could hear him scribbling something in his notebook, muttering to himself about having forgotten to do his physics homework. Yunho had left Mingi behind, saying that he was becoming restless, and how he needed a run before their next class. The full moon was tonight, I could only assume it had something to do with their moods, werewolves became rather restless in the afternoons on full moon nights. Finally, the last three students left the classroom laughing and whispering to each other, looking back inside, no doubt gawking at Mingi. Something clenched in my stomach, making me hiss at the three girls as they passed in front of me, looking fearful once they noticed who I was. The scurried away and I couldn’t help but smirk in glee, that is until I heard Mingi scrambling around the classroom, gathering his things to leave. I took a deep breath and willed myself to push off the wall, hands slightly trembling as I appeared in the doorway just when Mingi was about to step through it.

He gasped; eyes wide. Our gazed connected and I couldn’t help but smile at him, tilting my head in wonder as he gulped hard, audibly, licking his chapped lips. There was little distance between our bodies, and he suddenly took three big steps backwards, making my eyebrows furrow in disdain as his comfortable warmth disappeared with him. My heart shouldn’t have picked up so fast, racing just at the sight of him, senses flooded with his cinnamon and fresh grass scent. I took a step forward, the door shutting behind me with a loud thud, trapping Mingi and I inside the otherwise empty classroom. The windows were open, a warm fresh breeze slithering inside. It probably wasn’t the reason why Mingi’s cheeks were suddenly flushed, gaze averted again as he cleared his throat loudly, as if something was stuck there. I allowed myself a short moment to take in his appearance, and was taken aback to find him sickly looking, dark bags underneath his tired looking eyes, lips chapped to the point of looking painful, and cheeks as hollow as mine. It was startling, and it only raised more questions in my mind as I took a deep breath, the strong cinnamon scent burning the back of my throat.

“We need to speak,” I spoke up, voice unsure as I continued looking at Mingi, who was still avoiding eye contact, “something is…happening to me.”

Ever so slowly, he turned his head, eyes reluctantly falling on me. His thick eyebrows furrowed as his eyes racked my body, then stopped on my face, looking very confused, “Were you avoiding me?”

Mingi hummed, pursing his lips as he cleared his throat, “Yes.”

I didn’t expect him to be so honest, for some reason it didn’t feel nice at all, “How did you mask yourself so well?”

“A pack can mask their wolves when sensing danger.” Mingi explained, eyes suddenly steeling as he licked his lips again. My eyebrows furrowed, feeling confused all over again.

“Am I a danger to you?” I found myself whispering, looking at Mingi questioningly. Something in my stomach dropped at the prospect of me being the cause of danger to Mingi.

“With how much you keep threatening me, yes.” I chuckled humorlessly at Mingi’s words, and he looked just as unamused as I felt. His shoulders were slouched forward as he shook his head, looking defeated, “What do you want, Y/N?”

“To talk.”

“Then talk.”

I gulped, feeling off thrown by Mingi’s hostile attitude, acting as if he didn’t even want to see me. Hadn’t he imprinted on me? Weren’t we supposed to be mates now? Why was he being so cold towards me? My heart beat faster, body yearning to feel Mingi’s warmth so desperately that I had to dig my nails in my palms to stop myself from marching up to him and latching myself onto his body.

“Ever since you—imprinted on me, I just—I don’t know.” I gulped, averting my eyes as Mingi’s sharp gaze bore into mine, “We haven’t seen each other in almost four days and I—I don’t feel well, Mingi. Something is happening to me, and I don’t understand what—”

I gasped at how fast Mingi closed the gap between us, orchid-colored eyes boring into mine, making me shrink back in fear. Have I angered him again? Was he going to hurt me? But to my surprise, Mingi’s hand gently cupped my cheek as he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, holding it in his lungs as I remained still, afraid to breathe. Nobody spoke as he slowly exhaled, eyes snapping open, once again brown, staring at me with a newfound softness in them. I gulped, taken aback by the tingles traveling all over my body, cheek warm from Mingi’s palm, a safety bubble nestling around us. I felt complete again, the heaviness in my chest not as strong as before, my heartbeat beating fast like never before, a pull so strong towards Mingi deep in my being that I realized I couldn’t ignore it anymore. Mingi licked his lips again, suddenly looking like he’s made up his mind about something, softly exhaling again as he opened his mouth to speak, probably, but I couldn’t focus on anything else anymore but the feel of Mingi so close to myself. I didn’t need to hear his words in this moment, I needed to feel him. And I did just that as I desperately cupped his cheeks, pressing my lips against his. Mingi froze, unmoving and hand falling from my cheek limply as I squeezed my eyes shut tight, inhaling his comforting scent as our lips molded together.

As I went to pull back, realizing that Mingi wouldn’t kiss back, suddenly fingers tangled in my hair and pushed my head back with a newfound force, our lips crashing against each other as Mingi whimpered, not wasting any time as he set a bruising pace. My hands slipped from his cheeks to hug around his neck as I flushed my body against his, sighing into the kiss as my body almost felt like it was lit from the inside, heart fluttering, and the yearning in my stomach turning into a desperate want as the pace of our slick lips quickened, desperately needing more of Mingi. I moaned against his mouth as he captured my bottom lip between his lips, suckling on it softly before licking it, and hovering his lips against mine, breathing through his mouth as shivers racked my spine. My fingers tangled in his hair, which was in a half-up ponytail again, and I quickly got rid of the hair tie as I gently pulled on his soft locks, parting my mouth in permission for Mingi. I could hear his heart beating like crazy, faster than mine even, and in a flash, his tongue was pushing past my lips, tangling with mine, my skin feeling as if it was on fire. Mingi was warm, almost to the point he was burning up, and I failed to notice it getting transferred to my own body as I clung to him, moaning when he skillfully licked inside my mouth, taking his sweet time to suck on my tongue before allowing me to push mine inside his mouth, relishing in the quiet whimpers that left the back of his throat. His hands eagerly explored my body as they slowly slipped towards my backside, squeezing my ass hard through the skirt of my uniform, my eyebrows furrowing as I tried not to moan. With our heads now tilted, I felt myself turn into a puddle as Mingi hiked one of my leg’s up before making me jump up, legs squeezing around his waist firmly as I held onto him. Mingi didn’t stop kissing me as he walked us towards a desk, gently setting me down as we broke apart for a second to fill our lungs with air.

As he tried to step back, I tightened my legs around his waist and pulled him even closer to myself, biting my lower lip when his heavily ring clad fingers grasped at my left thigh, black tinted nails digging into my flesh. Mingi’s hot puffs of air landed on my lips and I licked mine, failing to notice the lust in Mingi’s eyes as he watched me closely, eyes constantly flickering between brown and orchid. He rested his right hand on the desk, next to my hip, as he pressed his forehead against mine. My breathing was heavy as I realized just how badly I needed to feel all of him, feeling on the verge of craze as he lifted his chin ever so slightly when I went to kiss his lips, making my eyebrows furrow as I whined at the denial. But I quickly was forced to inhale sharply as Mingi’s calloused, big, hand slowly slipped up higher on my thigh, underneath my skirt, making me groan as he massaged the inside of my thigh, my lips attaching to the skin of chin. It was soft despite the little stubble growing out, and Mingi moaned as my lips travelled lower, pressing open mouthed kissed against his neck, his Adam’s apple, nipping at his hot skin at the junction between his neck and collarbones, slightly distracted by Mingi’s grip on my thigh tightening as I slipped a hand under his shirt. His abdomen was firm and his muscles tensed under my fingertips as Mingi looked down at me while breathing heavily as I blinked at him innocently, a soft groan escaping his lips before he crashed his lips against mine.

It felt like my soul was alive again, a fire lit deep in my stomach as our tongues battled for dominance, and I pulled Mingi’s body flush against mine, moaning when I felt his erection press against my core, fingers tangling in his hair once again firmly. Mingi moaned as I pulled on the longer strands around his nape, making me gasp against his lips as he moved his hips, slowly grinding against me. His warm palm slowly slipped from my thigh and I whined at the loss of it, but his hand instead went and gripped my waist firmly, keeping me in place as he moved slowly, dragging his hard-on against my throbbing core. His free hand cupped my covered breast and I moaned into his mouth as his tongue pushed deep inside my mouth, toes curling as he kept grinding against me, setting my skin on fire, his scent intoxicating as the layers separating us became unbearable.

“Mingi,” I pulled my head back, moaning as Mingi didn’t stop kissing me, latching his lips onto my neck instead, “this isn’t talking—Mingi!”

I yelped as his fangs nipped against the sensitive skin of my neck, making me throw my head back as I gripped his belt, trying to stop him from grinding against me anymore, everything becoming too much.

“Mingi,” I tried again, voice breathless as he sucked at a spot under my collarbones harshly, licking it slowly afterwards, “we’re in a classroom, we have to stop.”

“I never thought you’d be a prude.” Mingi’s voice was extremely low as he spoke against my skin, lips like feather as they brushed against my heated body.

“I’m not a prude,” I hissed as Mingi’s hips stilled, but with his hard-on pressing sharply against my clothed core, “but if a professor walks in, we’re done for.”

Mingi groaned and he raised his head to rest his forehead against my shoulder, taking deep breaths as I licked my lips, staring up at the ceiling as I tried to ignore the desperate need to rip his clothes off and let him take me on this desk. Mingi took a deep breath, which tickled me once he exhaled, and I felt him move as he looked up at me, releasing my waist as he gently cupped my face again, pushing the strands of hair behind my ears, smiling cutely as his cheeks were flushed pink.

“I don’t think I’ve ever felt this alive before.” He whispered, truly looking like he felt lighter. It was a little disheartening as I realized that the heaviness was lifted off of my chest, my own skin buzzing with excitement as I felt myself smiling back. The truth was that I felt the same as Mingi, but I was too afraid to admit it. Something was changing and I was afraid to acknowledge it when I spent my whole life hating on the species right in front of me, in between my legs, making my heart swell with his gorgeous smile and cute flush, his deep eyes, and clumsy personality. I was still afraid of werewolves, I still hated them, but I couldn’t deny the sudden pull towards Mingi anymore.

“We have to talk.” I didn’t mean to break the serene bubble around us, but we needed to clarify so many things, “I have too many questions, and you have a lot to explain.”

Mingi nodded with a hum, lowering his head, surprising me as he slowly nuzzled his cheek against mine, inhaling deeply, making me blush as the endearing action. Nobody has ever done that before, and it made my skin jittery as it felt good.

“I promise we will talk, but tonight’s the full moon and my mind is all fogged-up, Y/N,” Mingi explained as he gave me an awkward smile, “I can’t exactly…think right now, if you know what I mean. And I don’t want to do something we’d both regret later. All I can think about is marking you right now, and that needs a serious conversation first.”

My heart jumped in fright at the mention of marking, and I gulped as I slowly nodded my head, realizing finally that Mingi had no malicious intentions towards me. If he did, he wouldn’t be saying things like that, nor treating me gently. I offered him a small smile and he chuckled, leaning down to press a lasting kiss against my lips.

“It’s a shame we must stop, but,” Mingi smiled cheekily as he removed himself from my body, much to my dismay, “I have to go to class, I’m already late, and I know Yunho will come looking for me in exactly three minutes.”

I chuckled as I watched Mingi try and straighten his clothes, brushing through his long strands, searching for the hair tie, which seemed to be gone. I grinned as he gave up searching for it, instead went and grabbed his backpack discarded on the floor.

“See you tomorrow?” He raised his eyebrows, still adjusting his messy hair, “When I’m not thinking with my dick?”

I snorted, nodding my head as I licked my lips and crossed my legs, remaining seated on top of the desk, “See you tomorrow after lunch break, I know you have a free period.”

“Someone’s been stalking me, huh?” Mingi smirked as I looked away embarrassed, gulping before I admitted a little secret of mine.

“When you spend so much time hating on someone, it’s alarming how much you learn about them.” Mingi’s smirk only widened to my horror, completely amused by my admission, instead of feeling hurt or even angry.

“What a little freak I have to deal with—”

“I’m not a freak!” I exclaimed in irritation, making Mingi chuckle as he walked backwards towards the door.

“We’ll see after I find out more about you,” He winked as he opened the door, “Take care, doll.”

I rolled my eyes as my face flushed at the pet name, and my eyes stayed glued to the door even after Mingi was long gone, his footsteps faded as he made his way towards his classroom, Yunho making a ruckus as to why he was late and why he looked so shaken up. I chuckled and fell backwards on the desk, taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly as I raised my hands, playing with the black hair tie around my wrist. This was becoming real, wasn’t it?

I bobbed my head to the music as I wrote down some more numbers, rubbing my forehead as I had been doing equations for more than an hour now. It was late in the evening, and after Irene and I studied for a while together, she said she needed to go somewhere, and left around half an hour ago. She promised she’d be back early tonight and we could have a girl’s night, but I had my doubts about that as I knew she was with Seulgi. It didn’t bother me as much as it normally would’ve as my mind was distracted with thoughts of Mingi, impatiently waiting for tomorrow to arrive so that we’d finally discuss where this…something…was headed between us. The wind had picked up and it was rattling the old hinges of the window, and I turned my head to look out the window, lightning in the distance. A storm was coming, and the dark clouds made it hard to spot the full moon, but its light was strong enough to pinpoint it on the dark sky.

As I started solving another equation, the guitar in the song I was listening to was soft and calming, but there were rapid knocks against the door of the room, disturbing my peace, making me look towards it with furrowed eyebrows. It was almost eight in the evening, slowly we were approaching curfew. Only the wolves were allowed outside past curfew tonight, so it made me wonder who it could have been. I placed my pen down and pushed away from my desk, standing and stretching my stiff muscles as I went to swing the door open. I was rather surprised to find a short, dark haired, girl standing in the hallway, chewing on her lower lip as she looked up at me. We stared at each other for a few seconds, me flabbergasted to find Dahyun standing in my doorway, and the little girl staring past me, inside my room, wonderingly.

“Uh, what are you doing here?” I asked confused, eyebrows furrowing.

“Is Mingi here?” She asked quietly, trying to look inside my room again.

“No, why?” I answered curtly, watching the girl warily.

“Are you sure?” She pressed, looking up with a glare at me, “Are you lying to me?”

I scoffed and crossed my arms in front of my chest as a rather strong gust of wind rattled the windows out in the hallway. The lights flickered for a second, making both Dahyun and I pause as we looked around.

“Why would I lie to you?” I asked once Dahyun faced me again, and I rolled my eyes when the girl continued glaring at me, “Be my guest and have a look inside my room. I haven’t seen Mingi, why would I even know where he is? Isn’t he your brother?”

Dahyun didn’t seem too happy with my answer, and suddenly her small hand grabbed mine and I was yanked down with such force that I gasped, taken aback by just how strong the little werewolf girl was. I stiffened when her face suddenly pressed forward, nose pressing against the junction between my neck and collarbone, inhaling deeply.

“What—what are you doing?” I stuttered, brushing the girl off, feeling weirded out.

“Mingi scented you.” The girl said, eyebrows furrowing as she took a step back, taking me in fully, “You smell like him, that’s why I thought he was here.”

I felt rather confused as I smelled myself, but felt no scent of Mingi on myself. What did she mean that he scented me? Wasn’t that a werewolf thing? How could he even scent a vampire? When did he do it that I didn’t even notice?

“I don’t smell like him.” I objected, glaring down at the girl as she looked suddenly scared when there was a flash of lightning in the distance. I opened my mouth to send her off, but the way she latched onto my arm and looked up at me pleadingly made me pause.

“I can’t feel Mingi’s scent,” The little girl whimpered, “and a storm is coming, I’m scared. Mingi always tucks me in before bed, and I’ve searched for him everywhere and I can’t find him.”

I felt awkward as I cleared my throat, not knowing how to comfort the distressed girl, “Uh, well, you have many siblings. Go find them.”

“I need to find Mingi.” Dahyun stressed, “I know where Yunho is as I can feel his aura and smell his scent, but for some reason Mingi’s gone. I’m scared something happened to him, Y/N.”

I gulped, suddenly fearing the same as I tried to listen closely as I searched for Mingi’s voice in the vicinity, but came up empty handed. I sighed as I continued looking at the girl, who started shaking now, and I shook my head, “Wooyoung and Yeri will certainly help you.”

“Wooyoung is also shifting tonight and Yeri didn’t even open the door when I told her it was me knocking,” My eyebrows furrowed at the cruelty of her older sister, feeling a sneer wanting to settle on my face, “Can you help me, please?”

Perhaps the sweet, and teary, puppy eyes staring up into mine were what broke my resolve as I sighed and nodded tiredly, watching a smile appear on Dahyun’s face, “Where should I look for Mingi?”

“They are usually at the shed at this time.” She said, detaching herself from me. My eyebrows furrowed as my heart lightly picked up, mouth going dry at the prospect of having to step outside during a full moon while the campus was littered with wild, animalistic, werewolves running around freely.

“I can’t go out there, I’m sorry.” I muttered, eyebrows furrowed, “The whole place is infested with werewolves and I—”

“They haven’t shifted yet, I promise.” Dahyun quickly interjected, “Mingi always struggles shifting, and Yunho always waits for him. Please, it’s not dangerous to look for them, they are very docile and still recognize everyone in their wolf forms. Please, Y/N, please.”

I gulped and looked outside through the window behind Dahyun, feeling a coldness seep through my bones the longer I thought about this stupid request. But I couldn’t deny that I also felt worried for Mingi now, and one more look at Dahyun had me giving in, “Alright, wait here, and I’ll go look for Mingi. If Irene, my roommate, comes back, tell her that I let you stay here until I come back, okay?”

“Yes, thank you very much!” Dahyun almost cried in happiness as she walked inside my room, making me sigh again as I grabbed my light cardigan, wrapping it around myself tightly as I left the room. I tied my hair with the black hair tie forgotten on my wrist as I knew the harsh wind would whip it all around in my face.

Perhaps coming out to the shed in a long skirt and a t-shirt with nothing but a cardigan on in such violent wind wasn’t the brightest idea as I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to warm myself by rubbing my hands up and down quickly. However, it offered little to no warmth, and I shivered as I heard howling in the distance, my skirt getting caught in dry weed as I hissed, tumbling a little forward and into the door of the shed. At least I have finally reached it. It isn’t too far from the dorms, but it’s on the outskirts of the forest, and I could feel my heartbeat picking up as I knocked on the door loudly.

“Mingi?!” I called out over the loud wind, carefully pushing the door open, sticking my head inside to see if anyone was in. But it seemed empty and I took a warry step inside, feeling my eyes turn scarlet as my senses spiked as I felt on edge so exposed and alone. I slowly walked further inside, scanning the shed, but Mingi’s scent was absent, and he was nowhere to be seen as well. I sighed as I tightened the cardigan around myself and leaned over the table discarded in the middle of the room, finding clothes scattered around. I could smell the stench of wet dog, yet Mingi’s scent was absent. Maybe it weren’t his clothes, however the disregarded chains looked a lot like his necklaces. I sighed, and went to turn around when the old floorboard creaked up front, making me freeze. I slowly raised my head, looking around again, feeling my heartbeat quicken even more.

“Mingi?” I whispered, chewing on my bottom lip in fear, my breath coming in short as there was another creak. Just as I opened my mouth to call out his name again, two glowing orchid-colored eyes appeared in the dense darkness, making me gasp loudly as my hands slapped against the desk as they fell from around my body. I stared into the beasts eyes as it stepped forward from the shadows, form huge and menacing as its fangs were long. Its fur was midnight black and thick, scent completely unrecognizable as I tried to sniff around for Mingi. My body trembled as we looked each other dead in the eyes, memories of that dreadful night flashing in my mind.

The weather had been similar, wind blowing harshly and a distant rumble in the skies as the storm was fast approaching. I was playing in the flower field on our propriety, gathering flowers before the pouring rain arrived, humming a song to myself, oblivious to the world around myself. I had turned five years old just a few days ago, I had no worries in the world, nothing to be afraid of. That is until I realized something was snarling not too far away from me, staring at me piercingly, as I giggled while playing with my imaginary friends. It wasn’t a full moon, but for rogue werewolves it didn’t matter whether it was day or night, full moon or not. Just as I was about to turn around and leave for the mansion, it pounced on me, snarling in my face as I was pinned to the cold ground, shrieking and screaming as its saliva dripped on me. I could still remember, and feel, the pure terror that coursed through my whole being, screaming and calling for my parents to help me. The werewolf didn’t like that I was being so loud, or a vampire, and it bared its teeth at me when I started crying, begging it to let me go. The rogue wolf was scary and strong, no matter how hard I tried to escape, I couldn’t. It happened in a flash, it’s claws pressing painfully against my chest as its teeth ripped through the skin of my forearm, making me cry out so loudly that I thought I broke my vocal cords. It felt as if someone pushed a burning rod inside my body one after another, two sharp needles ripping your skin apart, tearing you up from the inside. My body started convulsing as I continued screaming, mind hazy and breathing ragged from the excruciating pain. I didn’t remember much after that, only waking up numb in the hospital, tubes connected to my left arm and bicep bandaged tightly, my mother sitting at my side, and only crying harder when she saw I had opened my eyes. The second my father walked in with the werewolf doctor is when everything suddenly dawned on me, sending me into a hysterical fit, to the point I needed to be sedated, trembling and crying out for the poor doctor to stay away from me. It was a trauma I was forced to live with, and I could never actually put it past myself, that pain forever present in the back of my mind as my faded bite mark started pulsing painfully once again.

I took a slow step backwards, barely even moving, but the werewolf caught it and suddenly snarled, making me jump in terror as even my head started shaking violently in fear. I was taken back to that day, when I was a defenseless little girl, almost killed by a monster so similar to the one facing me right now. My attacker had black fur with white patches, I could never forget its fur and orchid eyes. I knew wolves had the urge to chase their prey once they started running, but it was either I stayed here and surely died, or tried to run and save myself. I acted upon realizing I wasn’t ready to die at the claws of this monster, and turned swiftly, taking off as I heard the werewolf howl behind me, jumping over the table to chase after me. I screamed when I realized he was really after me, snarling and howling every few minutes, a lot faster than I had anticipated. I had to grip my skirt and raise it above my knees as my lungs burned and muscles strained, never having ran this fast before in my life. My mind was only focused on saving myself, on taking me far away from danger. I didn’t realize that I was running further inside the forest instead of heading towards the dorms, where the werewolves were forbidden of entering once they have shifted.

I ran even faster as my sensitive ears picked up on the loud thuds the werewolf was making as it chased after me, snarling louder, sounding completely furious as I was gasping for air, lungs completely empty and begging for me to take a breather, but if I stopped, I would die. I pushed even more, using my inhumane speed to try and get rid of the beast, but it seemed like it did nothing as the wolf chased after me without sounding tired and nowhere near of giving up on its pursuit of me. I was becoming desperate, I couldn’t go on like this for much longer, my body was shaking despite me running. I was filled with adrenaline, heart pumping my blood fast as I ran for my life, until I felt the werewolf nipping at the back of my skirt with its large teeth, making me cry out in fright. I turned my head to see the distance between us, but it was a foolish action as it caused me to lose my footing, tripping in the huge twigs scattered around the forest floor, sending me to the ground with a painful tumble. I cried out as I felt my skin scrape through my cardigan, even if it would heal in mere seconds, it was still painful. I hadn’t even realized that I have started crying, and now that the werewolf was just a foot behind me, snarling and hissing at me animalistically, I started crying loudly, trying to get away from it until my back hit a tree.

“Please,” I whimpered, jumping when the wolf growled at me, staring me menacingly in the eyes. I shook my head and pressed my hands against my mouth, lungs heaving for air as my whole body shook, eyes filled to the brim with tears, my vision blurry, “Mingi!”

I didn’t understand why I called out his name, but I found myself desperately clinging onto his name as if it would save me, as if it would send the werewolf away, “Mingi! Please, Mingi! Help!”

My screams were shrill and my throat hurt, but it only made me shake more as the black wolf growled and almost jumped at me, hitting its paws against the forest floor annoyed, hissing, and puffing. I could feel the pain I felt that day, spreading from my bicep down to my arm, infecting my brain with that excruciating ache, and I started sobbing as I pressed my head against my knees, curling up in a ball as if it would’ve protected me from the beast. I didn’t even realize it in that moment, but I started calling out Mingi’s name as if it were a mantra, praying to all celestial powers that he would show up and save me from this monster, which was coming closer and closer, its hisses and growls louder by the second. I hate werewolves, I hate them so much, yet I was calling out the name of one until my throat was too dry to scream anymore. Only my sobs could be heard around us, and the scream I let out when I felt arms wrapping around me, sending me into a panicked state as I trashed around, trying to fight the grip they had on me off. I couldn’t hear and I couldn’t see due to the deep-rooted fear I felt, that is, until a faint voice slowly started getting to me, my brain registering the familiar rasp of it, the deep tone I was used to hearing.

“Y/N, Y/N, please, it’s me,” The voice was soft and scared, sounding almost like it was talking to a scared little child, “It’s me, Y/N, Mingi. I’m Mingi, you’re safe, please—”

My arms flew around Mingi’s neck as I threw myself at him, gasping for air loudly as I clung to him to the point my nails dug into his naked shoulders, drawing blood. Mingi’s body felt warm, muscles stiff, but he instantly cradled me against himself, fingers tangling in my hair as he started quietly shushing me. I continued to cry for a few more minutes, hard to completely calm down, but Mingi’s warmth and reassuring words seemed to get my heartrate back to normal, making me forget the panic I felt just minutes ago.

“You’re alright, I’m here.” Mingi’s nose pressed into my hair, lips barely brushing against my ear as he whispered quietly into it, “You’re safe, I’m here. Nothing will hurt you, Y/N, you can calm down now. I’m here, I got you.”

I let out a shuddered breath as I closed my eyes, pressing my face into Mingi’s neck and inhaling his comforting scent, feeling my muscles ease up as Mingi’s fingers brushed through my disheveled hair, pressing kisses against my temple. I took a deep breath and let out a long sigh, heart still beating fast, and body on high alert as the adrenaline didn’t leave me yet.

“Mingi.” I croaked out, slowly pulling my head back to look at him, feeling my lips tremble as I realized just how terrified I had been, “I was so—”

“It’s okay now,” Mingi cut me off with a small smile, expression soft as he nuzzled his nose against mine, closing his eyes for a second, “You don’t have to talk. Just sit in my arms and calm down.”

“Mingi,” I whispered, feeling the need to cry again, but I forced the tears away just as Mingi’s cheek touched mine, and he nuzzled them together just like he had done earlier today, in the classroom, “Thank you. I’m so sorry.”

Mingi looked confused once he pulled back, but when he noticed I was looking at the bloody nail marks on his shoulders, he just chuckled and shrugged, “Don’t worry, I’ve been roughed up way worse before.”

I looked into his eyes again and loosened my suffocating grip around him, but still clung onto him, overlooking the fact that he was completely naked. I was still trembling and afraid, I wasn’t physically able to let go of him yet. And just then, there was a growl to our right, and I gasped as I turned my head and saw the black werewolf standing there, eyes set sharply on Mingi. My body started shaking violently again and I felt my fight or flight kick in again, but Mingi held me strongly against himself, caging me against his body as he hugged me tightly, shushing me when I tried to speak up.

“You, asshole!” Mingi hissed towards the werewolf, making my eyes widen, “What is wrong with you, Yunho?!”

My eyes widened as I snapped my head towards the wolf, finding him shuffling on his four legs, snarling his teeth at us.

“Why would you chase her, are you nuts?!” Mingi’s voice was raising, I could feel his heartrate quicken underneath my cold hand, “You know she has some sort of trauma with werewolves and you go chasing her around the fucking forest, during a full moon, you idiot!”

Mingi’s words were sharp, and it was visible on his face that he was beyond pissed as he snarled his own fangs at the black werewolf, which was Yunho, apparently. I remained silent as I watched the exchange between the twins, one in human form, the other in werewolf form, my muscles tense but not like before as I realized I was away from danger now. There was a whimper and I cast my eyes upon Yunho, who was looking down at the forest floor, dragging his front paws as if he was asking for forgiveness.

“We’ll talk about this tomorrow, dude,” Mingi snapped, shaking his head in disappointment, “I’m done running around for tonight, go find Wooyoung or someone else. And don’t come back tonight to the dorm after you’re done being an asshole. Get lost!”

I watched with an open mouth as the big, black, and scary werewolf hung its head even lower, cries and whimpers leaving its mouth as it started jumping around, pressing its front paws forcefully and harshly into the solid soil.

“Stop throwing a fit, Yunho.” Mingi said with a roll of his eyes, his hands rubbing my back up and down in a comforting manner, “I won’t tell you to get lost again.”

The werewolf growled, but it lacked power and menace as he cast us one lasting stare before it turned around and ran off with loud howls, making Mingi roll his eyes again before he looked back at me. He had an apologetic look on his face and I sniffed, snot threatening to come out of my nose due to the extensive crying I had done tonight. Mingi’s hands cupped my face again and he gently wiped the fresh tears off, pressing kisses against my cheeks before he pressed a soft one against my lips, my eyes falling shut at the plushness of his warm and soft lips.

“I’m sorry about that,” Mingi sighed, sounding ashamed and disappointed, “Yunho can be a huge idiot. He thought chasing you around was a way to get back at you, but I don’t find it funny at all.”

I gulped and nodded wordlessly, clearing my throat despite it feeling sore, “How did you know…about my trauma…”

Mingi hummed, sitting back and gently pulling me in his lap, my cheeks flushing as he sat naked, looking quite unbothered, as I forced myself to look at his face only, preferably in his warm brown eyes.

“Well, first of all, the bite mark.” Mingi explained, gently touching where my mark was, looking sad, “And well, you know, the whole hatred towards us and all that shit, it’s not hard to put two and two together.”

“I’m sorry.” I found myself whispering, feeling ashamed of myself all of a sudden.

“Hey, don’t be, it’s alright—”

“It’s not,” I cut him off, eyes hardening as I gulped, “I put you through so much just because I’m traumatized, and you have nothing to do with it. I’m a horrible creature.”

“I can’t imagine what you must’ve went through to feel so strongly against us,” Mingi’s fingers intertwined with mine as he rested our hands in my lap, “And I never blamed you for it one second. Of course, your bullying did get too much at times, but I always had my family to back me up and reassure me. I never had a problem with you bothering me as long as you left my family one.”

My cheeks turned pink as I looked to the side, biting my lower lip as Mingi chuckled. I blushed even harder when he leaned closer and kissed my cheek again, “I guess you always had a thing for me.”

“Shut up, Mingi,” I groaned, looking him in the eyes again, “This is so not the moment nor place to turn cocky on me.”

“I could turn into only one thing right now,” Mingi chuckled, eyes flashing an orchid-color, “But I think the cocky thing is something we could take care of faster—”

“Song Mingi!” I slapped his hard chest, glaring at him for saying such things while I sat in his naked lap. Mingi cackled, biting his lower lip once he was done, watching me amused as I tried to get off his lap, but he didn’t let me.

“Glad to see you calm and comfortable again,” Mingi mused, grinning as he ruffled my hair, making it even worse than it already was from all the running, “but I must ask, why the hell were you even outside on a full moon, Y/N?”

“Because of your stupid sister—” I cleared my throat quickly, “I mean, sweet sister, Dahyun. She said she couldn’t feel your scent and was scared of the approaching storm. Plus that you tuck her in every night, so…”

Mingi sighed loudly, looking up at the dark sky. I looked around us, realizing that the sky was rumbling, the lightning just above our heads. I was too distracted to realize that the storm was minutes away from starting.

“That silly girl,” Mingi muttered, chuckling as he gently pushed me off himself, “I hate to tell you, but she was only pranking you, a plan probably elaborated with Yunho—”

“What?!” I exclaimed as I scurried off to my feet, gaping at Mingi as he chuckled, rubbing his nape.

“Yeah, well, uh…you know, she hasn’t let me inside her room since she was in fourth grade, which was like…four years ago.” Mingi pursed his lips, also standing, the view quite a sight as I quickly plastered my gaze on his face only, “She didn’t lie about the storm though as she usually comes to me for comfort. She must’ve gotten scared and went looking for me, having a pretext to send you outside.”

“Why couldn’t she feel your scent, then?” I asked as Mingi suddenly swept me off of my feet, making me yelp as I clung onto him as he held me bridal style.

“I don’t know,” Mingi shrugged, looking nonchalant, “My scent comes and goes sometimes when I shift.”

“Oh,” I muttered, giving Mingi a questioning gaze as he started walking through the forest, headed back to the shed, “What are you doing?”

“Taking you back to the dorms.” He said with a smile, a mischievous glint in his eyes, “You certainly must’ve grown thirsty after seeing me in all of my naked glory.”

“Mingi.” I blanched, giving him a deadpan look, “You better put me down right now.”

“Hmm, let me think about it,” He pursed his lips mockingly, looking up towards the sky, “No.”

“Mingi—”

“I’ll put you down once we’re in my room.” He winked, and something coiled in my stomach as I gulped.

“Your room?” I mused, looking at him with wide eyes.

“Of course, don’t think I’m leaving you alone tonight, what if the big, scary, black wolf comes back to eat you?” He cackled and I smacked his chest hard, making him groan in pain.

“You’re making me think you were in on the plan too.” I hissed, glaring at his perfect jawline. Mingi chuckled and just shook his head, giving me a pointed stare.

“Tormenting my mate isn’t top of my list, you know?”

“We’re not mates.” I muttered.

“Yet.” Mingi grinned.

“Ever.” I hissed and Mingi licked his lips before biting his bottom lip, his heart thumping just a little bit faster as I could feel his giddiness radiate off of him.

“Do you know you drank my blood when we slept together—”

“What?!” I snapped mortified, almost jumping out of his arms, “I did not!”

“Uh, yes, you did.” Mingi chuckled, wriggling his head at me funnily, “I found two little punctures at the base of my neck.”

I felt mortified hearing that, face turning completely red and muscles tensing. It wasn’t forbidden to feed off of other night creatures, it’s just that it was a very intimate action, usually only practiced between vampire lovers.

“You know, it’s funny,” Mingi’s eyes were glinting as he looked down at me, “It’s where my scent gland is, the spot where werewolves mark each other when mating—”

“Mingi, please, stop.” I pressed a hand against his mouth, completely and utterly embarrassed. But he licked my palm, making me yelp as I ripped my hand away from his mouth.

“I think you triggered my imprinting, isn’t that the funniest thing ever?”

“Oh, my fucking God,” I wailed, squeezing my eyes shut in mortification, “Kill me right now, Mingi.”

“Can’t do that, doll, not when you’re the love of my life.” Mingi chuckled, nearing the edge of the forest finally.

“Stop spewing non-sense,” Yet I felt my heart beat just a little faster, cheeks heating up hearing his words, “I thought we agreed to talk about this whole thing tomorrow.”

“True,” Mingi hummed, smiling contently, “So, how’s your memory?”

“Why?” I raised an eyebrow in suspicion as Mingi smirked, looking ahead.

“Mine’s a little foggy, that’s why.” He said nonchalantly, making me gulp as I had a hunch what he was talking about.

“Well, so is mine.” I said in a small voice, Mingi’s attractive face turned downwards as his sharp eyes bore into mine, plump lips pulled into the most attractive smirk I had ever seen.

“Good, I think it’s time we give it a refresh, then,” He whispered seductively, leaning just a little closer, “You know, make sure we don’t forget this time, not even the littlest details.”

My mouth went dry and I felt my stomach coil at his suggestion, and all I could do was nod at him speechless, licking my lips as a warm feeling washed over me, going straight to my core. Mingi’s eyes were glinting and he chuckled, kicking the shed’s door open as he walked us inside.

I don’t think there was a single thing I would’ve been able to forget about Song Mingi, even after having lived for an eternity.

≡ Masterlist ≡

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elliesbff · 7 days

Text

“i need you.”

- abby anderson

hi hi! sorry it took me so long to get to this second part, i’ve been going through a lot mentally and have just been trying to get my head around things. i genuinely hope this teeters to your satisfaction ♡ thank you for all the likes on pt 1 c:

cw: nsfw, scissoring, (r and abby! recieving) oral sex, (r! receiving) fingering, (r! receiving) slight dacryphilia, a bit of hair pulling, softdom!abby, sub!reader. enjoy! ˖ ࣪⊹

read pt 1 of i need you here!

.*･｡ﾟ 𝜗𝜚 .*･｡ﾟ

moments prior,

abby’s braid slid graciously past her shoulder as she pulled away from your short lived embraced, already missing the warmth of her sun kissed skin. it seemed like she was in a hurry, scurrying out of the gym in the blink of an eye. as you took a moment to gather yourself, you realised that she’d left her bottle behind, and her bench remained uncleaned. you stood there dumbfounded, what could she have planned that was more important than gymnasium hygiene? after all, it was her that taught all you know.

when you were nothing but a baby WLF, abby took notice of you as a new recruit and instantly saw potential in you, taking you under her wing and training you like hell to fulfil your true abilities. although you were nowhere near as burly or as experienced in combat as her, you were quite good with weaponry and crafting, as well as adapting to your surroundings, making do with what you had on you during critical times.

she calls you ‘the scavenger’ when you were not present. it was her unique way of honouring how far you’d come since joining the WLF, how she paved the way for the indestructible soldier she firmly believes you’ll grow up to be one day. it’s also just her adorable little nickname for you that she beckons nobody uses in her place.

she has the upmost faith in you. growing closer with each patrol, each gym session, and sometimes just casually hanging about the FOB or at each others rooms. your friendship was something others envied; it was pure, full of trust and built upon mutual respect. but those closest to you knew it meant more than what first meets the eye.

abby was out of sight in the blink of an eye, you look around in a suspicious daze, trying to follow her whereabouts. she was quick, but not quicker than you.

you had a long-overdue session to finish, but abby looked relatively… uneasy. something was wrong, and you could feel it. the line between instincts and curiosity began to blur as your feet developed a mind of their own, your duffel bag and towel long gone as you’d already turned the corner outside the gymnasium.

maybe you were overreacting, maybe it was overkill to automatically assume the worst was happening to her. but if something was really up with abby, you wouldn’t live it down if you didn’t initiate help.

the look on abby’s face as you stared at her through the firmly rimmed glass, her beautifully arched eyebrows furrowing only ever illuminating her intense eyes — a million thoughts a minute ran through your mind, instinctively charging for two heavy silver doors and up a random stairwell. you could smell the scent of pine and sweat — that was definitely abby.

all reasoning for your unexplainable shenanigans flew out the window as you approached abby’s room, a series of shuffles followed by a supposed muffled voice echoed from the opposite side.

your hand hesitantly reached up to knock, only to realise the door was never locked to begin with. abby could never be that careless, — maybe manny, but regardless — she would sometimes recall times where she’d have to remind him to lock up before leaving during your sessions at the gym. she’d never make a mistake she so harshly scolded people for.

your face inches closer to the door, the cool solid wood sending a kiss of shivers across your exposed shoulders as it welcomingly swayed open.

with each step, the unintelligible noises grew much clearer, and it was becoming more palpable as to what that was entailing.

you’re heart only dropped to your gut at the sound of your name, uttered by a helpless, whining mess.

“please… please.”

the door conditionally, and gently swayed closed on its own behind you, a little clck locking the door in full as you took a couple steps closer. was this a figment of your twisted imagination? the soft whimpers and subsequent cries of your name begged to differ. it was no secret now. abby had a thing for you. you were almost too afraid to move as each whine only grew more vehement.

with a couple more stalled footsteps, you froze at the sight of abby, completely ruining herself at the fate of her own hand.

your eyes widened instantly, the warm air prickling your eyes as would salt water. seeing her all ruined over the thought of you was enough to lift your hands over your mouth in keen disbelief.

you attempted to gather yourself, debating whether or not confronting her on this was the best idea — but no normal person would just walk away and forget this ever happened — forgetting the image of abby anderson, issac’s top scar killer, ramming her slick-covered fingers inside her wet cunt all while repeating your name under a dumbed spell? it’s not something that can just leave your mind at the drop of a hat. it certainly wouldn’t later, neither.

while lost in your thoughts, your tense arms dropped to your sides as your feet followed closer, the sound of your boots shuffling against the smooth concrete floor not catching her attention,

“abby?”

you watched as her oceanic eyes shot open, the abby you once believed would simply chuckle and brush off the idea of this, now scurried to find something, anything to cover her herculean figure, freckled arms still just poking out the sides.

it took more than an ounce of self control to not let yourself run wild at the fact that the abby anderson had a rather strong fancy for you, not to mention she was fucking herself to the thought of you.

as your initial astonishment subsided, your body beamed with want. seeing abby flushed and heated clouded your acclaimed critical thinking.

“…can i have a turn?” slipped from your lips after tending to abby’s own neglected desires.

and here you were, moments passing almost at the speed of light. you laid flat on your back, tits perked up from the arch of your back with abby towered over you. her estranged braid slid off her shoulder with her eyes staring you down. your neck generously splayed with bruises and bite-marks, only reminding you that she’s been wanting this for god knows how long. unbeknownst to her, you did too, you just never believed you’d live to ever experience it.

her hand lightly grazed over your tit, meticulously attending to your swollen nipple. her thumb teased at it, rubbing the area in circles to provoke a much anticipated and equally expected reaction. with her hand on your chest and her lips returning to attack your already purpled skin, you stifled a whine, bottom lip bit between your teeth. she kissed along your throat, from the point of your jaw to the crook of your neck.

she continued toying with your body as her tongue traversed to your waist, laying another round of sloppy kisses to your hip bones and abdomen.

it was like your skin grew ten times more tender whilst under her touch, each breath of hers against your skin feeling like a gentle tickle, accompanied by her large and surprisingly delicate hands palming your tits, it was growing to be too much, too much being your style, anyways.

her hand left your chest to firmly grip onto your hips, pulling you closer to her lap. she took her already soaked fingers, prodding at your pussy like you’d done previously. your breaths grew shakier with each flick of your clit.

her eyes returned to that intense, fiercely glare from back at the gym, so that’s why she was so concentrated, or rather in her own dreamland.

her tongue laid a generous coat of saliva along her lips, staring at your pussy like the starved woman she was. for how long she’d ached for this, you had no clue. this was bound to be a moment to remember.

your cunts were practically hugging each other, the feeling of being so close to her pussy only added fuel to the fire that gleamed in your core. the longer abby stared, just taking in your breathtaking body, the stronger the feeling of being exposed grew.

her head dives below your eye view, feeling her nose bump at your clit. she savours it, her tongue peeling out at an antagonisingly slow pace as she glares at you through her arched brows. she could taste it all, her juices mixed with yours..

your hand gently took rest within her blonde locks, hooking into the back of her braid.

“abby,”

you huffed, sounding more like a plead than anything. with each soft, trembling breath, she’d drag her tongue along your cunt in sync.

her face would dig further into you, arms slithering to wrap themselves around your thighs. even if you begged for her to slow down, your needy hole that clenched around nothing, desperate to be touched, told her otherwise.

abby would stare at you longingly, finally able to die happy between your tensing thighs as she rapidly swabbed your clit with your tongue, dragging it along in circles and the likes.

your body jerked at the sudden change in pace, back arching instinctively off the bed. the whole lower half of your body fired up, tingly and numb. her muffled grunts sent you haywire, violently gripping onto her hair. she was like a leech that wouldn’t let go, sucking and lapping around that sweet spot like her life depended on it.

“stop squirming.” abby would demand as she shoved your hips back onto the mattress, not once detaching herself from you.

you could barely comprehend anything she’d say as she was practically suffocating herself between your thighs, and you’d both be lying if you said you didn’t love it.

abby teased your cunt with her fingers, carefully slipping her thick digits inside of you. your legs squeezed around her head at the sensation of feeling so full. her fingers, let alone hands, were thicker than yours. and they felt much more fulfilling.

your moans would blend harmoniously, both equally experiencing pleasure from the other as you climbed the ladder of your climax.

abby’s suppressed grunts would only ring through your ears. where was the abby that was so shamelessly call out your name moments ago?

your grip on her hair tightened, practically dragging her face along your cunt to accumulate as much friction as your body desired. her fingers would work wonders, unforgivingly pumping in and out of you as her tongue would rub against your clit. each time she would flick against it you’d jolt, back arched with a shy hand over your mouth.

in a matter of seconds, abby had pulled away — both her tongue and fingers. just as you were about to reach the peak, you’d tumble down with your high dropping in seconds.

“wh.. why’d you stop?” you breathed out, tears that rimmed your eyes beginning to dissipate.

as if abby could read your thoughts, she placed a leg over yours, dragging your helpless body closer to her. your cunts were mere centimetres apart, the slick that built up from your pleasure mixing with hers.

“wanted to rile you up..” she muttered, her beautifully eager smile spreading from ear to ear as she strategically began kneading her pussy against yours. abby let out a stifled whimper, her perfectly toned arms pulling your leg almost over her shoulder.

you whined as she slowly dragged her pussy back and forth. the only thing ruminating through your mind in the moment was how you wished you’d done this sooner. way sooner. if given the opportunity any earlier, you’d have jumped at it like an animal in heat.

tears generously coated your plump cheeks as abby picked up the pace, she muttered curses under her breath with each drag of her swollen cunt. it was evident she was close, her arms would needily latch onto yours in an attempt to pull you closer than you already were.

the sounds of timid whines and skin slapping echoed through the room. you hoped that nobody would mention a peculiar series of moans to you or abby the next day. but all you could focus on was her slick engulfed thighs, her chest and the hickeys that’d covered her tits. her neck that was equally as bruised, and her face that contorted into a smile once she noticed you were staring.

“this feel good?” she asks, a sudden grunt spilling from her lips a second after.

all you could do was nod. you were afraid once you spoke, you wouldn’t be able to stop. abby, abby, abby, abby, was all you could think of. how strong she was and how easily she could throw you around if she wanted to, how easily you could tug on her braid while she fucked you dumb. it drove you insane how she wanted you and nobody else. she fucked herself to the thought of you and nobody else.

she disapprovingly shook her head, slapping your thigh playfully.

“mm mm, i don’t take nods, use that pretty mouth,” abby grinned, her cunt grinding viciously fast against your own. you whined dumbly, the pleasure overpowering your body. you felt numbing tingles along each cell of your body.

you whined shamelessly loud, “it feels.. so good.” abby’s face enlightened, her hips picking up pace from your undying cooperation. anything for her to keep going.

she squeezed a handful of your thigh and massaged it, letting out her pent up urges that she was only able to let out now.

you dumbly mumbled a bunch of nonsense yes’, keep going’s and abby’s, initially climbing the tower of climax yet again. and abby was, too. as much as she tried to hide it, nothing could excuse how her hips would dig into your abdomen from how quick she practically humped your cunt.

abby held your thighs close to her, gaining the upper hand in creating more friction. her clit would bump against yours almost ever second. both your whines enveloped the air around you as the coil inside you snapped, your pleasure releasing out into a white pool underneath you.

but abby was far from finished.

she pulled your hips closer, with pussies rubbing against each other and whines echoing through the walls. you wouldn’t doubt for a second that someone could hear you.

with more than a couple grunts and calls for your name, abby came down from her own high, her hips faulting and slowly grudging to a stop.

you both panted relentlessly. you swore if she kept going you would’ve came a second time at the snap of a finger.

trying to regain your breaths, abby lets out a chuckle.

she doesn’t say anything, but she shakily pulls herself off of you, propping herself up by her elbow next to you.

a sudden wave of embarrassment washed over you as the reality of both your actions settled in. there was no hiding your attraction to one another now, none of this would’ve happened otherwise.

the never ending pining, hanging out one on one every chance you got and saying it was ‘just to train you’. you don’t know why you were surprised at the fact that abby would think about these things behind closed, or more so unlocked doors.

“..so?” abby’s voice was soft and meek, her hand fidgeting alongside her waist as her head rested on her other hand.

you hesitantly locked eyes with her, your previous shyness fading away as she planted a kiss to your forehead. something as cheesy and cute as a forehead kiss was enough to make you blush, subsiding all the things you both just did.

“..that was better than i expected.” you finally replied. abby’s eyebrow quirked, head tilting to the side.

“oh, so you thought it’d be bad?” she kids in a sly tone, that familiar smile returning once more.

you playfully punched her arm in response, the both of you knowing in reality, it felt like heaven on earth.

“does it look like it was bad?” you poke back, pointing to all the hickeys and bite marks along both your bodies.

only now did you realise how much of a mess you made. there was cum all over the bedsheets, saliva all over your cunts and what not — this place was really overdue for a cleanup.

you chuckle as you examine the aftermath.

“we should clean up..”

“we?” abby questions.

“i don’t mind, i made it too, no?”

abby couldn’t argue with that. she sighs, pulling you up and off the bed so you could both clean up. not without peppering your body with kisses first.

fin.

i hope you guys enjoyed this, it was definitely a lot longer than i planned, and sorry again for taking so long!! but i enjoyed writing this a lot, hopefully you guys enjoy reading it too. ♡♡

dt: louise again realest oomf!!

word count: 2,793

#abby anderson #abby anderson tlou2 #tlou game #tlou x reader #tlou part 2 #tlou2 #tlou smut #tlou show #tlou series #lesbian #tlou fic #abby tlou #elliesbff

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hatsunemitskislobotomy · 1 month

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˚◞♡ ⃗ ❝ 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙠𝙞𝙨𝙨 𝙢𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙗𝙞𝙩𝙚 𝙢𝙚 ❞* ೃ༄

↳ ♡₊˚. ❝ ¡love and deepspace sorta kinda spicy! eluding headcanons lolz! ❞

·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙

something about those boys and ripping pantyhose’s… sigh

sure it’s attractive, quite attractive actually but more often than not the boys seem to miss the mark as to why you’re wearing them (and why it’s not okay to suddenly come back not wearing them) until one day you overhear tara and some of your other female colleagues discussing a durable pair of pantyhose’s perfect for the summertime where the typical deepspace hunter pants tend to be a little bit on the heavier side.

however your interest was piqued either way— might as well do the girls a favor and test how really durable they are

xavier

you two are so in sync with once another, gentle touches and heightened breathing— your reactions from each other drove each other crazy, it was perfect

which is why he looked like a kicked puppy when he realizes that the pantyhose’s you were wearing were NOT coming off with the hook of his finger

“i… i dont understand…”

oh poor thing they never do

you explain to him that the other female deepspace hunters wanted to test out their durability— you just happened to know a good test for them

he understands, but he still doesn’t know why you’re wearing it with him

you sigh, the initial test was a success but now he was really trying to make you spell it out for him

you pull out the small dagger out of its sheath that rested on your thigh

he looks at you in confusion as you wrap his fingers around the hilt

“i’m sure you can figure out your way around this obstacle.”

and then it clicks and his face of confusion is no more

it’s safe to say, the same trick won’t work on him twice

rafayel

this man takes it as a personal attack— like you might as well have had called him a lemurian slur

“so you want me to die?”

you loved him, but this man was always doing the absolute most but he won’t admit it

if anything you’re getting ALL the blame, you got him all worked up and then you stroll up wearing the indestructible pantyhose’s from hell

he flickers a flame in between his fingers

talking about some “i wonder if they’re fireproof”

you was not about to let him find out— YOU WERE STILL WEARING THEM

“what? can’t handle a little fire?”

and he had the nerve to act like you did an attempt on his life meanwhile this man was scheming as he poked and prodded the thick mesh around your thighs

you two practically start wrestling until he has you pinned

“fine we’ll do things your way, but promise to let me burn them after they’re off.”

zayne

you had been a brat obnoxious all evening it was no wonder he was itching to put you in your place

as per usual it was attractive how he’d reach over your body to pin your arms against the bed as face to face with your torso looking absolutely starved

but right when he was about to tear into you (figuratively and literally), that pesky pair of mesh you always sported were NOT budging

he had to pause and take a minute to reflect

my man was ready to ravish you like how a predator would to their prey but he was being bested by fabric

you were trying so hard not to laugh because you can see the cogs turning in his head

“it seems that i’ve played into your hands.”

you chuckle, innocently claiming that you were getting a tad bit tired of all the pantyhose’s that he’d tear into, it was a lot of money wasted

he insures that it’s never a waste he keeps a collection of all the ones he’s torn

the entire situation is too funny to you, you really can’t help but giggle at him

he really can’t stay annoyed at you, he also did find it a lot funnier than it should’ve been

he still wanted to have his way with you

“it’s no matter, all this is to show that i’ll have to be the gentleman you deserve.”

sure your pantyhose’s were spared that night but you weren’t

❀° ┄───╮

a/n: y’all this idea literally fell from the damn sky— well actually i just saw those instagram promo stories about those hella thick and durable pantyhose’s soooo thank instagram ig?

it’s nothing crazy— i can’t write smut without having a visceral reaction sooo uh… i salute the girlies on here who can bc PHEW 🫡🫡🫡

also i wrote this on the bus lolz, thank god for privacy screen protectors

okay love you all mwah mwah MWAHHHH

╰───┄ °❀

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wineauntie · 4 months

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ALWAYS AN ANGEL (never a god) — the hughes brothers x hughes sister!reader

summary: In which, Hughes sister!reader often feels like the black sheep of her family and eventually it all becomes too much for her to keep hidden.

PART TWO HERE

note: This is my first ever imagine on tumblr and the only one I’ve written about the Hughes brothers so please literally any feedback is welcomed with open arms 🙏

warnings: reader is the youngest sister, female reader, use of Y/N, use of nicknames like; honey, Angel and sweetheart, awkward dinner confrontations, reader is often full of doubt with the crippling need to please those around her before herself in this. Reader is also a little jealous of her brothers from time to time.

word count: 3.9k words

One of the most frequent things you've heard over the past few years was praise for your older brothers.

Typically it would go along the lines of; "Oh, Quinn made captain, you must be so proud!", "Jack and Luke are looking incredible lately, you must be so excited for them!", "Your brothers' are killing it right now, you're so lucky to be related to them!"

Most times you didn't feel very lucky.

That sounds rather harsh, upon reflection. The unmovable truth was that you loved your brothers more than life. They were pivotal parts of your making; indestructible forces ready to care for you and protect you through anything, big or small. They were willing to combat anything to ensure that your smile remained on your face at any given time. They were your older brothers and you couldn't even begin to imagine a world in which they didn't exist, in which they didn't tease, mock and love you.

But sometimes, you just wished people could find it within themselves to separate you from them when the time called for it. Another recurrent theme you've noticed over the last couple of years was that any achievement you made, whether it be academic or simply lying elsewhere, had a tendency to be accidentally overshadowed or overlooked by so many people in your life.

Your Mom and Dad tried their hardest to ensure you the importance of your hard work but sometimes, just sometimes, you had a horrible suspicion that perhaps their support was just out of pity. You were different from your family, everyone knew it and you embraced it. You were the only one out of the entire family to not play hockey beyond your childhood and despite being the youngest, you'd watched your older brothers, even Luke, who was only a year senior, falling even more deeply and madly in love with the sport. You, however, had stepped out onto the ice for the first time as a fresh-faced four-year-old and knew almost instantly that it wasn't the sport for you, but you'd never voiced that feeling until you were eleven.

You could remember that day so vividly, the day when you'd let it slip that you didn't want to play anymore. At the time it had been the most terrifying thing you'd ever thought of doing.

EIGHT YEARS AGO

It was dinner time in the Hughes household and all four kids had jolted at the sound of their parents calling them for dinner. Jack had led the pack in a stampede down the stairs, his fourteen-year-old legs bounding forward to win a race only he was participating in. Twelve-year-old Luke had followed suit, racing towards the dining table, not in competition, but in what he would describe as "starvation like that one ad on TV talked about". Quinn, at sixteen, had long decided he was far more responsible than his younger counterparts and walked down the stairs just a little behind the rowdy pair ahead.

You, at eleven, moved much slower than all of your brothers. You'd had a hockey match that morning in which you'd ended up crashing headfirst into the boards. It hadn't hurt, not with the helmet on your head, but it had been the last straw. Tonight was the night. The night you were going to finally tell your parents that hockey wasn't for you. That the sport was enjoyable but only if you were watching from the sidelines.

Your hands were trembling, your teeth biting down hard on your lip, so hard you thought it might burst any second. You couldn't find it within yourself to stop. It soothed the nerves that had begun to build. Your family loved hockey, they breathed it. You wouldn't be surprised if they all ran tactics and strategy in their dreams.

You walked into the dining room with your shoulders hunched and head bowed as you made your way towards your usual seat between Quinn and Luke. If your brothers had noticed your odd behaviour all day, they hadn't voiced it. You kind of wished they would just so it would get the ball rolling.

Dinner was laid out in front of you almost tauntingly. Tonight's dish was pasta, ever so conveniently shaped in the various shapes of a hockey stick, a helmet, and a skate. Your brothers grinned at the shape of the food, whilst your mom and dad laughed in amusement.

"I found them earlier down in the shop," Ellen Hughes beamed, as she looked amongst her children. "Thought they might make dinner interesting!"

"It does, Mom," Jack grinned in approval as he shovelled a forkful of it into his mouth. You had yet to even pick up your utensil, you just stared at your dish in silence.

"Y/N, honey, is your head hurting from earlier?"

Your mom's voice almost made your straight face slip. You lifted your gaze slightly letting it fall on your mother's worried yet comforting eyes. You opened your mouth slightly but words failed you. You resorted to just shaking your head before looking down.

"Why would her head be hurting?" Quinn questioned defensively, as he looked between you and Mom. You hunched your shoulders further into yourself as the attention on you was now a lasting event.

"She hit the boards earlier, head on," Jim Hughes supplied, swallowing his mouthful of food. He had had the day off and jumped to accompany her to the game. "Hard enough too, but the little soldier got right back up."

You hadn't.

You had laid there for a solid fifty-four seconds brimming with brewing hatred.

"You hit the boards?" Luke snorted, his teasing eyes on your small figure. This was regular joking for the family. They would all mess around and laugh about things that went wrong with anyone, it wasn't out of the ordinary, but tonight?

Oh, tonight this teasing was just piling onto your problem.

"Someone tried to take the puck," Your dad continued mindless of the storm generating inside of you. "It clicked almost immediately for her though and she passed the puck perfectly. All she did was just miscalculate the distance between her standing and the board's closeness, and even then she was fantastic."

Your dad's words should've been comforting. Usually, you would burn with bashfulness at the praise. Your brothers snickered at the image they created of you falling into the boards and before you knew it you could barely hear them. All you could hear was white noise whereas all you could see was vibrant and hot red when you looked down at your plate.

"Sweetheart, when's your next game?" Your mom's kind voice broke through the noise, as she picked up some more food with her fork.

"IWANNAQUITHOCKEY!" You suddenly burst out, causing your family to jump at the volume of your words. Your heart was beating frantically, your hands wringing on your lap. You looked guiltily towards your mom and dad with a nervous gulp.

"Wha' dif' fou 'ay?" Luke asked through a mouth full of pasta, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. For you, the heat in the room rose and engulfed you in fiery waves of nerves as you glanced between your brothers and your parents.

"I want to quit hockey..."

PRESENT DAY

You had remembered the silence that had followed. Your parents ahead exchanged a look as they set down their forks and asked you to explain why. Once you'd begun explaining, you'd burst into tears, all of the pent-up stress and years of pushing yourself to fall in love with the sport only to fail came spilling out.

Your parents had jumped into action at your tearful display and granted the boys permission to finish their dinner in front of the TV in the living room. Once they'd left, your parents had sat down on the empty chairs beside you and immediately began to try to calm you with soothing arm and hair strokes and whispers of "c'mon, steady breaths now, you're okay".

You had continued to sob as you explained all of your feelings over the years. You had even admitted in your bleary state that you were scared your parents wouldn't like you anymore because you didn't like hockey. You had remembered the heartbroken look they'd both given you as they doubtlessly reassured you that no matter what you chose to do at any stage in life, they would forever love you. Your mom had cradled you in her arms, whilst your dad had continued to run his hand through your hair as you tried to calm yourself down.

And so, you stopped playing hockey while your brothers only flourished and fell deeper into the depths of adoration for it.

As the years passed your love and knack for academics— notably English and history, encompassed your life and filled you with everything you've ever craved. You threw yourself into your studies, your spare time spent reading books from the library or curled up watching too many David Attenborough nature documentaries for your family's liking.

You thrived in high school managing to maintain a 4.0 GPA. You worked various jobs over the years, from stacking shelves in the local library to making and serving coffee in a cafe near your home. Your mom had once teased that if you hadn't worked and kept out of the house you would've studied yourself to death.

By the time you were a senior, Luke, Jack and Quinn had all been drafted to the NHL and you couldn't have been prouder. You had attended all of their drafts, excitement rolling off of you as you clutched your brothers in such tight hugs they thought they might never breathe quite right again. You were overjoyed that they were able to translate their passion for hockey into the skills needed to succeed and to watch their happiness thrive only made it all the better.

Everything ran so smoothly...that is until people couldn't disassociate you from your brothers. You were thrown into the deep end once all three of your brothers had been picked in the draft. You had been the victim of fake friendships, relationships, and people, in general, trying to be close to you in order to be any inch closer to the famed Hughes boys. Towards the end of high school, their looming presence in almost every conversation agitated you.

It was as if they were the sun, blazing and vital to so many aspects of life. Whereas, you, on the other hand, felt like Pluto in their solar system, small, insignificant and not even important enough to remain a planet.

Nevertheless, you had what you loved within your grasp, it didn't matter what you were in regards to their standings, your talents lay elsewhere and there was no denying it.

You had graduated as Valedictorian with your parents watching proudly in the stands. Quinn had also been there, a pleasant surprise on your half considering he had played a game late the night before. Yet he'd flown home for you, to watch you walk the stage and you had almost giggled in glee. As Luke and Jack on the flip side, had a game the day of your graduation and couldn't miss it. You had reassured them that it was alright (no matter how disappointed and upset it actually made you feel).

After the ceremony, with your diploma in hand, you'd walked towards the stands, your eyes scanning for your parents and brother amongst the buzzing crowds. Conversations swirled with laughter and yelps as students reunited with their families and friends.

"You know that girl–the valedictorian? She's the one whose brothers play for the NHL,"

Your ears had instantaneously perked at the mention, and a heavy, unsettling pit began to form as unease churned in your stomach. You had faltered in your tracks at the words, your ears straining to listen for any other snippets of the conversation.

"Oh, the valedictorian! I thought I saw Quinn Hughes up in the stands, I thought it was my imagination."

Disappointment and what could only be embarrassment had crashed over her as you listened to the conversation continue. They hadn't been able to even remember your name despite it being mentioned more than a few times on the stage, yet of course, they knew your brother, who was one of hundreds in the crowd.

A sudden bout of envy had gripped your heart as you tried to blink away welling tears. This had been your day. Your day. You hadn't worked so hard to be forgotten so easily.

"Angel!" your delighted, yet teary-eyed mom had pushed through the crowd to engulf you in a massive hug. "My baby is all grown up!" You had plastered a smile on your face as you wrapped your arms around her to hold her close.

Your dad was next to be hugged, his big hand had ruffled your hair as he bore a wonky smile and cracked voice whilst telling you how proud he was.

And finally, Quinn had squeezed you to death, his tight grip holding you as he practically spun you around, your feet brushing the floor. You had let a laugh break your moping, as you clutched at your eldest brother's shoulders.

"Your speech was incredible," he mumbled from above you, as your head rested against his shoulder. "I had Luke and Jack on FaceTime the entire time."

You felt your cheeks grow warm as you tried to hide your sheepish smile. As you swivelled your head, however, you had spotted not one but three separate people with phones pointed towards you and your brother. Your smile had instantly dropped and you wiggled in his grip until he'd let go, his eyebrows furrowed as you tried to change the topic of conversation.

And just like that the excitement of the day had dimmed.

You loved your brothers but they would always be gods in everyone's eyes. But you'd only ever amount to an Angel— touched by divinity, loved by so many but never quite good enough and absolutely never equal to the power of gods.

The day of your graduation had only been evidence of such. You'd never be able to escape the shadows of your brothers no matter how hard you worked, no matter how much you yearned to.

That summer, you fell into a slump of sorts. Your usual cheery smiles and bright eyes had been dulled. You weren't outwardly rude or dismissive but you talked less, participated in family activities less, finding excuses left, right and centre to avoid socialising. Your stack of books that usually were reread every summer lay untouched, covered in a very thin layer of dust. Your family had noticed your change as soon as the slump had started.

They just thought it would go away within a week or so.

Mom had spoken to you too many times to count asking if you were alright and if she could help with anything, you'd simply waved your hand and denied that anything was wrong.

Your brothers had tried too.

Luke had tried to get you to play video games with him, play pool, go to the mall with him, yet you conveniently always had other plans to attend to. Jack had tried to get you to come to the country club and play golf with him, or at least sit in a golf cart reading so that he could talk away with you whilst he played and yet, you refused, claiming you weren't feeling well.

Avoiding Quinn had been the most difficult task. As the eldest and you the youngest, he always felt more protective over you than over your wild other brothers. With five years between each other, Quinn was the one you naturally leaned towards during any inconvenience. He'd been the first you'd called when you'd accidentally gotten drunk off of alcohol-spiked juice at seventeen and had panicked when you couldn't find your friends. He'd stayed on call until your mom had arrived and you were safely tucked inside her car. He'd been the one you'd run to when you were little and had nightmares, and he'd let you bury yourself in his bed covers beside him, with mumbled words of comfort as you shook. He'd been the one who'd refused to leave your side when you'd been bedbound with a bad case of the flu when you were nine, reading stories to you and keeping you company in the solitude of sickness.

He'd been the one you'd tried your hardest to not spend time around because you knew that if he went digging into your out-of-character behaviour, you would break and spill everything in seconds.

Since hockey was in the off-season, you'd seen your brothers more often than not. They'd spent the last month in the same house as you and your parents, it was getting harder and harder for you to continually bypass all of their offers to hang out.

A sudden knock on your bedroom door caused your head to snap towards the door where Luke had sheepishly stuck his head in through the door's gap. You shuffled in your spot underneath the blanket you'd surrounded yourself in as you had curled up on your bed, despite the warmth of the outside air.

"Mom said dinner is on the table," he yawned, before pushing your door open for you to follow and disappearing from the door. You stretched out your limbs, placing your book on your bedside table as you unfurled. Your tired eyes blinked slowly whilst you forced your body to trek downstairs.

Everyone's eyes seemed to follow you as you silently entered the room, not that you noticed as you slunk towards your seat and slumped down into the wooden chair with your head down. You stared blankly at the plate before you looked towards your mom and forced a small smile.

"It looks good, Mom, thanks," you nodded towards your mom before looking back at your plate. Your fingers twirled the fork around as you began to eat slowly. Noticing the growth of an uncomfortable silence, you raised your eyes, only to meet your entire family's gaze. "...what?"

"Y/N, angel, we need to talk," your mom began soothingly, glancing towards your dad almost nervously. Your eyebrows furrowed as you placed your fork down, your hands dropping to your lap.

"About...what exactly?"

"Y/N, what's going on with you?" Your dad suddenly asked, causing your mom to carefully nudge him. "You've been distant, and locking yourself up in your room for the summer."

"I haven't been distant," you denied, pushing yourself further back into the comfort of your seat. You could feel your brothers' eyes piercing you from where they sat.

"That's a lie," Jack scoffed as he swallowed a forkful of food. You shot him a blazing look, your eyes narrowed and as sharp as knives.

"You're not yourself, Y/N," Quinn added cautiously, his eyes flitting around your face to try to gauge your emotions. "You've been making excuses all summer not to spend time with any of us. We miss you, Y/N and...we want to help you, you just gotta let us know what's wrong."

You looked down at your hands as you bit down on your lip to suppress the trembling that threatened to wrack through your body. Luke glanced down at his plate before he leaned forward towards you.

"Y/N, we can help you now, we have the time, hockey doesn't start—"

Don't," your voice seemed unfamiliar to even yourself as iciness weaved its way into your words. "Not now."

"What do you mean?" Luke retorted as he scrunched his eyebrows in bewilderment. "All I said was—"

"Everything has to revolve around hockey." You hadn't meant for the dam to burst and release the waves of frustration and upset but there was no stopping the course it was now paving. "It always has been and always probably will. Every dinner conversation starts the same, every text, every call and I understand why...But life isn't all about hockey."

"I don't..." Luke shook his head and looked towards his brothers for support. His softened and baffled voice filled your heart with a tinge of guilt, but your heart wasn't in control of your words, your mind's bitterness was the one with the reins. "I don't get why that's a problem..?"

"Because you don't realise how out of place it puts me." Your eyes burned with the vicious sting of unshed tears as you began to fall and stumble into a panicked ramble. "And I know I've never said anything about it, but do you know how much of a black sheep I feel like? I mean I chose to give up hockey, I chose to focus my mind elsewhere, so it really has nothing to do with you guys; but when it's constant hockey talk?... I have nothing to say. I have nothing to add, and I feel boxed in...I feel wrong, as if I was some faulty add-on you got landed with."

"You are not faulty, Y/N!" Your mom cut in sharply, her eyes now tinged with sadness.

"Two hundred and three," You bypassed your mom's saddened gaze as you focused on your brothers.

“What?" Jack shrivelled his nose as you spoke.

"Two hundred and three games, ceremonies, and hockey-related events I have attended in order to support you." You explain, whilst your eyes darted from brother to brother. "To support all of you and those are only the ones I can remember."

"Y/N, angel…”

Your dad's calming attempt to soothe you permeated your ramble and only filled you with an indescribable rage.

Always "angel".

Always a goddamn angel.

"Six." You continued, your fists clenched so tightly that the bite of your fingernails embedded deep into your palms. "Six times in my life, you three have managed to make it to an event of mine or ceremony. It goes down to two if you only include events, where all three of you were in attendance."

"The truth is no matter how much I convince myself I'm not an outsider, no matter how much I succeed in life and have every glory at my fingertips, it'll never be enough. No matter the circumstances, people will always find a way to undermine my success to boast about yours. How unfair is that?”

The tears, now unstoppable, rolled down your heated cheeks, leaving a wet trail as your family watched and listened to your cracking voice.

"Every big milestone in my life people twisted it to frame you guys in the foreground. All I wanted was to be great– be so great that, for once, people could separate me from a crowd without it being about my brothers. For years, I got the highest grades, worked locally, tutored, volunteered, and yet my only legacy will be that I have three older brothers whom, to everyone else, I will never measure up to."

"So, after years of trying to ignore the truth and deny it, I realised that there's no possible way I'll ever amount to the Hughes name, I'll never be great and I'll never be able to be like you. And it's...it's a terrifying thought to know you were intended for greatness but destined to fail."

Your tears blurred your vision as a heavy stillness settled over the Hughes family dinner table. Another second passed before regret crashed into your very being and settled amongst the chaos. Your hand flew to your mouth once you'd finished talking, the complete reality of what had happened hitting you full force as your body shook in adrenaline.

"I...I'm," Your horrified eyes scanned the table before you jumped to your feet. "I'm sorry...I'm really...the food was really good, Mom, but I'm, uh...not really hungry anymore." And before anyone could protest you scrambled out of the room, leaving your family to watch you flee.

Anyway, let me know what you think…also part 2 might be coming 🙏

#luke hughes x reader #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes imagine #jack hughes fluff #hughes!sister #Hughes brothers x reader #nhl x reader #x reader #hughes brothers x y/n #boygenius is iconic and I love them #jack hughes x reader #wineauntie #reader is just a girl fr

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formulauno98 · 2 months

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Could you do Toto Wolff with wife reader? She always wrote those little notes on post-its and leaving them at his office whenever she was there, so that he will get a little endorphin boost when stress/working. I don't know if it make sense. Add something you'd like though. Thanks :))

Thank you for your message, I love this prompt, it got me inspired to write again! So without further ado, here is Post-Its, a short and fluffy fic, just for you.

Post-Its

Word Count: 800

Warnings: Pure, unadulterated fluff

Author’s Notes: Disclaimer, purely fiction.

“Remember not to throw your headphones today.”

Toto smiled at the looped handwriting on the pink Post-it note he’d found hidden between his iPad and the keyboard. His angry outbursts were at this point somewhat expected but after a particularly tough season, he’d struggled to keep a lid on it and had been smashing his headphones virtually every race weekend. After a frank conversation with the Mercedes-Benz board, he knew he had to reign it in.

That’s where you had come in, leaving Post-it notes to remind him throughout the race weekend not to make a complete fool of himself. In a nice way, of course. Your husband was a passionate man and you knew that he only acted this way from a place of caring too much. Not the biggest fault in the world.

As Toto settled down for the morning to reply to a few emails before quali got underway, he grinned, carefully putting the Post-it in his cardholder, trying to keep the sentiment in mind for later and tomorrow’s race. He’d barely started typing his first reply when there was a knock at the door.

“Come in.” His deep voice boomed, hoping that whoever it was was not going to take up too much of his time. Spare time was precious during race weekends and he was seldom left alone as Team Principal.

Luckily it was just his assistant coming in with coffee and a small box.

“Good morning boss,” she said, setting his coffee and the box down in front of him.

“Morning,” he said wearily, curious what was in the box, “Thank you but what is this?”

She smiled, “You’ve had a special delivery.”

Toto sat upright, he didn’t normally get deliveries to the motorhome, “From who?”

His assistant grinned more, “A special lady. I’ll leave you to open it but let me know if you need anything.”

As she made her way out of the room, Toto picked up the box in his large hands, wondering what it could be. You had already slipped a Post-it note into his iPad case, so knowing you it was probably a gag gift set of indestructible headphones.

Carefully undoing it, he was pleasantly surprised to instead find a small stack of Post-its, concertinaed together. Inspecting the first one, there was the familiar looped handwriting.

“Good luck and don’t fuck it up.”

He smiled, rifling through a few more motivational quotes, a lewd drawing (of course you couldn’t resist) and one final message, scrawled in classic toddler handwriting.

“I love you, Daddy.”

Toto melted at the delivery and knew that whatever happened this weekend he had you and your young son to come home to. Carefully gathering the Post-its up, he added them to his cardholder alongside the one he’d found earlier.

—

A few hours later, Toto was in the garage and things were not going well. The engineering team had gotten the set-up completely wrong and George was knocked out in Q1, Lewis barely scraping through into Q2. He tried to remember the positive messages from the morning and willed himself to keep his temper in check, his nostrils flaring dangerously as he looked around the garage.

Breathing deeply, he put his hand in the pocket of his Mercedes raincoat, knowing that he couldn’t throw anything from there. Strangely, he didn’t remember having anything in his pockets as he’d just had his uniform dry-cleaned so when he found a folded-up piece of paper, he pulled it out, curious.

It was of course another Post-it.

“Darth Toto returns duh duh duh. Don’t go to the dark side.”

He smiled, you were truly ridiculous, always calling him Darth Toto when he wore his long hooded raincoat. No one else ever dared to.

From his right shoulder came the curious voice of his reserve driver, Mick, “What’s that?” he asked, eyeing the Post-it curiously.

“Oh, just a silly thing from my wife.” Toto said, still slightly grinning, “She writes me these messages on Post-it notes sometimes.”

Mick looked surprised but didn’t question further and Toto felt much better about the situation.

—

It was race day and Toto was in a horrible mood. He had woken up early to pack as he had to leave immediately after the race and was throwing his shoes into his suitcase angrily and haphazardly, knowing that it was virtually pointless as he’d need to repack in a few days anyway.

As he gathered up his toiletries, a small yellow square fell out of his leather toiletry bag, floating to the floor. Bending down to pick it up, he laughed, reading the message.

“Hey handsome, you look good today.”

Once again he shook his head in disbelief, you were unlike anyone he’d ever met. His bad mood evaporated and he carefully put the Post-it note in his cardholder with the others he had collected over the weekend, knowing that whatever happened today he would keep his temper in check, knowing he was going to see you later that evening when he returned home.

#toto wolff x reader #toto wolff x you #toto wolff fanfic

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the-scandalorian · 2 months

Text

like a moth to the flame, part IV

Pairing: monster!Din Djarin x Female Reader Rating: E, 18+ Word Count: 11.1k Content Warnings: dark!Din, predatory/obsessive/possessive behavior, body horror/painful physical transformations, injury/gore, blood and hunting and monstery shit, oral (m-receiving), p-in-v Note: Endlessly grateful to both @frannyzooey and @ezrasbirdie for lending me their big beautiful brains xx

DIN Din had woken, disoriented and hurting, that morning after he’d found the Armorer on Glavis.

He came-to curled in the fetal position on the hard metal floor of his tiny compartment on the humming public transport. Before he’d even opened his eyes, he knew his body felt wrong. Uncomfortable and unwieldy, heavy and strange.

When he did open his eyes to the harsh, artificial light, the first thing he noticed was the sharp clarity of his vision. He wasn’t wearing his helmet, but it felt like he was looking through one of the strongest filters of his visor. He blinked hard. No change.

He unfolded his arms and studied his hands, splaying too-long fingers, and his thoughts tangled and snagged as he tried to make sense of what he was seeing.

The glint of cruel silver claws.

In his periphery, he caught the movement of a dark shape over his shoulder.

He tried to scramble away from it. It followed, a shadow.

Wings.

The word felt absurd. But it was…right. Silver that matched the half-moons of those claws, a structure of bone sprouted from both of his shoulder blades, a hooked joint forming the apex of each inky black, bat-like wing. Colossal and dark.

Piece by piece, in a haze of disbelief, he discovered new parts of himself.

The sheer size of this body, the power coiled in his changed muscles.

He ran a finger along the edge of his teeth, catching the pad on an elongated canine. Blood welled.

The wound on his thigh, where he'd burned himself with the saber the night before, was largely healed. There was only a trace of it, a fading pink scar.

Din stopped there. He couldn’t bring himself to look in a mirror, to see himself like this. He wasn’t ready for it to be real, to know if his face was still his own.

Instead, he picked up his chest plate to start collecting his armor, and his claws bit gently into the perfectly smooth surface. He was stunned.

What scratches beskar?

Beskar.

Of course.

The silver of his claws, of his wing joints was beskar. Virtually indestructible.

Din sank back to the floor and closed his eyes. He sat against the cold metal wall with his clenched fists pressed against his eyelids, the tips of those talons cutting into his palms. He wanted to escape the prison of this body, of this new reality; to wake from this nightmare; to blink himself out of existence altogether.

He forced himself to slow his breathing, holding it at the top of each inhale, until some of the tension in his chest eased. He let his thoughts go, focused on the cadence of his breath. Preparing himself as he did before a fight.

A slow, creeping sense of relief spread through him gradually, growing so palpable it turned physical. Like a cool wash of water over his aching muscles, a full-body shiver racked him. The tremble and quake of his broad frame was fleeting but intense. A release. His bones shifted in a pinch of discomfort. His mind drifted.

And then, stillness.

He’d opened his eyes minutes later, and his vision was blessedly, beautifully blurred—just barely. As it always was. As it was supposed to be.

Sitting there, staring at his hands and his blunt, human nails, Din might have been able to convince himself he’d imagined all of it. A fever dream. A delusion. An exhaustion-fueled moment of insanity, his mind addled by the fight and the pain and the life-altering dismissal from his covert.

Except, etched into his chest plate…those damning marks.

A mechanical voice announced the imminent arrival of the transport, interrupting his moment of existential crisis. Tatooine. The local time and weather blared through the speaker.

Tatooine. He couldn’t go back there. Not like this.

He made a choice. He dressed and readied himself, deboarded and found his way to the baggage claim. A droid unlocked his case, and Din methodically reattached each of his weapons. He reached for the dark saber last. The metal hilt felt hot, even through the thick leather of his glove. Nothing else had—not his blaster or his charges. Just the saber, warm under his touch. Warm like something alive. Like something warm-blooded, something with a thrumming pulse. Like something pleased to be back in his grip.

Like it knew.

He clipped it to his belt and let it drop, relieved to not have it in his hand.

Din turned, looking for the closest screen of departures, and scanned the list for the least populated destination.

*** Now, months later, he wakes to a fantasy.

He hadn’t meant to sleep. He didn’t want to risk it, even in the armor—not after he felt his body start to shift under his beskar last night. He didn’t think that was possible. Then he’d sucked your taste off his fingers, and his head had snapped to the side, his spine straightening. He’d felt the pop of vertebra and the sudden tightness of the skin across his back, the warm tension in his muscles straining for the change, but he’d managed to stave it off.

Just barely.

No, he hadn’t meant to sleep last night, but he had. And he wakes now, well rested, to the feeling of your warm body curled into his side, your head nuzzled into his neck, your breathing slow and deep. Watery morning light, as light as this dark forest ever gets, is visible through the trees outside the window.

He’d tried to move away from you during the night, to give you space, sure that you’d be more comfortable without the hard edges of beskar digging into your soft body, but every time he’d started to extract himself gently, you’d grumbled and tightened your fingers wherever they happened to be—caught in the folds of his duraweave, gripped around armor, tangled with his own. The leg you had hooked over his thigh had tensed too, your foot tucking itself under his other knee. You twined yourself around him, like a tenacious little climbing vine, and refused to let go.

He likes it. You’re possessive too.

The realization hurts a soft spot under his ribs—you want what he wants. To belong to someone. To claim and be claimed. To know that closeness. Skin-to-skin, joined and sweaty, without all these fucking layers between you. That hopeless, dangerous thing he can never give you.

That thought is unbearable when you’re asleep on his chest, your hand still curled over the top of his chest plate, fingers clinging to the sharp cut of metal. When he can smell the faint tang of your blood as it pumps idly through your veins, detectable even under the layer of your delicate floral scent, even from beneath his helmet.

His mouth waters.

It’s the catalyst that finally gets him moving. He carefully but forcefully unfastens your hand, inches your leg off his, and slips out of bed. You readjust but don’t wake.

As soon as he’s standing, looking down at you, he regrets it. The space between your bodies is intolerable, and he has nothing to do but wait for you to wake. So he waits. He waits, and he seethes.

He thinks about the mistakes he’s made.

*** He’d spent yesterday angry at himself, fuming at his own idiocy. He’d ruminated on how to proceed, how to scare you off again after he’d all but courted you the previous night when he’d given you a com link. Had invited you to use it. Fucking encouraged it. He’d been drunk on you—on your presence, on your forgiveness, on your smile. On the headiness of your scent as you’d stood so close to him outside your house. And it had messed with his fucking head, made him do stupid things. Dangerous things.

He’d worked through the steps of his drills while he thought, slashing the saber through the air as he’d tried to decide what to do. How to retract his offer of the com. He didn’t think he could bring himself to be cruel to you, to reject you outright. He’d imagined your face, imagined the hurt there, and he’d just…known he couldn’t do it. He’d have to leave. He wouldn’t let himself see you again. He'd jam the frequency of the com link. A clean break.

It was the only option.

He’d decided he’d let himself change early then, before the sun had dipped below the green horizon. One last hunt before he found a way off this planet.

He’d been minutes away from letting himself shift, minutes away from heading out completely uninhibited, when he’d caught your scent. You were close. The timing of it had made him want to break something. That was exactly the problem with all of this: one misstep, one instance of bad timing…and you could end up dead.

Why hadn’t he thought about you finding the bodies? How had that not occurred to him?

He’d left a perfect trail from your house to his. His animal brain had thought protect and nothing else. He’d gotten sloppy, comfortable. Maybe some part of him had wanted you to find it, to follow.

This was how it would end, then, he’d thought as he waited for you. Not in the easy way he’d planned, not a quiet exit—a coward’s exit. He’d have to face you, to turn you away and tell you he was leaving.

Then you were in front of him, and all of that was gone—the struggle and the resolve, the determination and decency. He’d fought to get it back for a few minutes, scrabbled against his own desire. Had tried to deny himself—to deny you. It was futile.

You’d asked him if he thought you were weak, if all of this was somehow your fault. And that was it.

He’d refused to punish you for his sins.

*** And now you’re in his bed. Warm and soft under his comforter, your head pressed into his pillow. A dream. Something he could wake up to tomorrow and the next day, if he wanted. A string of perfect, untouchable days stretching before him like a beckoning temptress.

He can’t let himself think like that.

Your life, he reminds himself. Your life is what matters most. Keeping you here wouldn’t just be selfish, wouldn’t just be a temporary balm, it would be a gamble. Your life pitted against his own self-restraint. Your life pitted against the self-restraint of a monster he doesn’t trust.

If he can just get you out—out of his bed, out of his house, out of his head—he’ll be able to think straight, and then he can go.

He watches you stir, aware suddenly that a fully armored Mandalorian looming over you might not be the most comforting sight for you to wake to. But you crack open sleepy eyes before he can move, and a lazy smile spreads across your face. His heartbeat stumbles.

“Morning,” you yawn, stretching your arms over your head.

“Morning,” he replies, clipped as he tries to expedite this process.

“It’s early,” you muse, your gaze trailing to the window. “I think you should come back to bed.”

Din’s thoughts stall immediately. You look so cozy, so comfortable snuggled in his bed. In his bed.

“Please?”

Din’s helmet follows the path of your hand as it begins to wander: as it slides languidly down the column of your neck, molds over the swell of your breast, lingers along your waist. You know you’ve snared him right away. You always know.

He just stands there, silent and yielding, as you kick the blankets away and shimmy out of your clothes. He wants to tell you to stop, but his mouth isn’t responding to his brain, his jaw dropped open slightly behind the helmet as he surveys the bare lines of your body. He didn’t get to enjoy this yesterday, didn’t get to luxuriate in the view, to drink in every detail. To commit it to memory.

His visor catches where your fingers stroke the curve of your hip.

“I can’t—” he starts.

You slip your hand between your legs, run your fingers through the soft hair there.

He was going to get you out. To regroup. That was his intention.

One of your fingers slips lower, dips into the seam of your sex. His cock responds.

He barely knows his own name, let alone any sense of reason when you’re looking at him like that—touching yourself like that. Begging him to touch you. His nervous system jolts from freeze directly into overdrive, and immediately he can feel himself brushing up against some physical limit, teetering on the edge of his control.

He watches you drop your knees open, and a low, pained sound passes through the modulator when you use two fingers to part yourself, putting yourself on display for him. You roll the pad of one finger over your clit, and your head drops back onto the pillow, your eyes closing in pleasure. Need claws at the inside of him.

“Stop,” he commands, but there’s no bite in it, his mouth watering at the sight of your stroking fingers.

You smile and widen the spread of your thighs, moving your hand lower.

He tries to sound firm, but his words come out like a plea: “Don’t—”

“I wouldn’t have to touch myself if you’d do it for me.”

You keep your eyes on his visor as you press two fingers inside yourself, frictionless as they sink inside the warm clutch of your body. He’s fixated on the flex of your wrist as you fuck yourself gently—his rapt attention suddenly a shivering, living thing throbbing under his skin. When you ease them out, he can see the shine of your arousal coating your skin up to the knuckle, a clear thread strung between your fingers for a brief moment when you slowly separate them.

“Your fingers feel so much better,” you breathe.

His blood pulses loudly in his ears, a too-slow beat. He knows what you feel like, clenched around his thick fingers—how slick, how hot. He knows what you taste like, licked off his own skin. Din would like to say that some greater primal force takes over, hijacks his body, that the monster in him doesn’t give him a choice, but that would be a lie.

He decides to let go.

Without changing forms, Din silences the part of his mind that’s protesting. He lets the animal of his hindbrain take control, a predator submitting to the call of its prey drive. It feels good to give in—a rush of blissful quiet overtakes him. He looks at you, and it’s simple. He wants you.

Time slows, but his hands move quickly—going to his belt buckle. The weapon-heavy leather thuds when it hits the ground at his feet.

You watch him disarm himself, poised like a willing sacrifice on his bed with your hand caught between your open legs, a naked eagerness on your face that pleases the possessive, hungry thing in his chest. His vision is tinged red, the severed thread of his control a distant memory as he thinks of all the things he wants to do with you.

To you.

He condemned himself to this the moment he let himself touch you. There’s no going back. He’s going to taste your nectar from the source. He’s going to fuck you with his tongue and gently suckle your clit between his lips until you sob. He’s going to eat you out until you come on his face, your hands tangled in his hair.

And then he’s going to do it again.

He tries not to think about how much easier that would be with his other tongue, his tongue when he’s transformed—long and dextrous as it is. He could get so deep inside you like that. Taste you from the inside out.

Later. He appeases himself with the promise of later. The promise of tomorrow and more more more.

His gaze settles on your mouth. There’s something else he wants now.

He approaches the bed and stands at its side, waiting patiently. That desperate sense of urgency drops away, and his shoulders relax. He can decide to have all the time in the world with you if he only lets himself.

When he hunts, when Din really truly hunts these days, he finds that he likes to draw out the indulgence of it. The tease and the chase. The kick of adrenaline before the slaughter. He understands why a predator plays with its prey before it makes the kill.

Because it can.

Because it feels good.

You’re expecting him to join you on the bed. He can see it in your expectant gaze.

“You want it so bad?” he asks, dipping his helmet down. “Come here.”

A wicked look flashes across your face at the change in his voice, at the invitation. There’s a beat of anticipation as you decide to play along, and then you crawl to the edge of the bed on your hands and knees. He watches, an imperious tilt to his helmet.

You perch on the edge, looking up. Waiting.

“Go ahead,” he nods. “Take it out.”

Your hands move to the button on his pants, but you don’t pop it open right away. You let your hand mold to the hard bulge there, feeling the heft of him.

He tilts his helmet the other direction, impatient, and you go for the zipper.

Before you’ve even pulled his cock out, before you’ve even touched him, Din thinks the sensation of your hot breath on the expanse of skin exposed by his open fly might be the most erotic thing he’s ever experienced.

He rips his gloves off and locks a hand around the nape of your neck.

He thinks for a fleeting moment how obvious it must be—his obsession with your mouth. The edge of mania he’s shoved toward when you let your tongue drag up his hip bone. That he’d slit his wrists at the altar of your perfect lips if you asked.

Your eyes drag upward slowly as you lick across his skin, gaze catching on the armored lines of his body before it meets his visor. You peer up at him as you inch the fabric of his pants down just far enough. And then your eyes flick down to watch a pearly bead of precum slip down the length of his shaft at your closeness.

“You want it?” he rasps. “Open your mouth.”

He grunts in satisfaction when your lips part immediately. Again when your hand curls around the base of him and your tongue darts out to circle his head, a touch so infuriatingly delicate that it makes him want to hold you down and fuck your throat raw.

He doesn’t, of course. He lets you set the pace even though your teasing lick across the underside of his cock and another over his slit feel as much like torture as they do like pleasure.

Finally, finally, you take him fully into the heat of your mouth. You start up a steady rhythm, and he’s more than satisfied to let you take the reins.

You’re less satisfied with that though—you settle a hand over his on your neck and press down, your eyes skirting upward as you nod subtly, your other hand urging his hips forward, urging him to fuck your mouth.

Use me.

He wishes you could see his face in this moment, what you do to him. Din’s eyelashes flutter shut at the perfection of your request. But immediately, he snaps them open again, needing to see.

He thrusts forward, and you whine in approval, your fingers tightening on his hip—taking him deep again and again, until he watches a line of saliva slide down your chin. Until your lashes grow wet, eyes watering at the effort of taking him over and over.

It’s too much. It’s too good.

The tight, hot constriction of your throat as you swallow around the head of him, the hard suck of your cheeks hollowing out around his shaft. His helmet rocks back, and a growl reverberates through his chest. But he’s not about to let himself come without knowing what it feels like to fuck you.

His hand drops away from the back of your neck; he forces his hips to still. “Enough,” he grits.

When you surge forward again, taking him deep, he closes a hand gently around your throat and eases you backward, off him.

“I said stop.” He thinks the words would be menacing if the fractured restraint in his voice weren’t so apparent. If you couldn’t see the steady leak of precum from his cock, the drizzle of opaque liquid on his dark pants. He’s teetering right on the painful edge of orgasm, and you know it.

“Need to fuck you,” he says, his hand still settled over your throat.

“Then fuck me,” you reply, your voice hoarse as you shift backward on the bed.

“You want my fingers first?” he asks, his hand drifting down the inside of your thigh. “You want to cum on my hand again?”

“No,” you say, catching his wrist and pulling him onto the bed, over you.

“No?” he says. “You want it to hurt?”

“Yes.”

His fingers tighten on your thigh. Too hard. “Turn around.”

You flip over and settle on your knees in front of him, and Din can see how much you enjoyed sucking his cock in the glossy spread of your cunt.

He catches a drop of your arousal with two caressing fingers. “You want to be fucked hard? Is that what you want, you greedy little thing?”

You press your hips back, rubbing yourself into the cup of his hand. And for a moment, his mind buzzes with blankness—with the thought that he could be tasting you instead of just touching you. He satisfies himself for now by lining up his cock with the soft heat of your pussy, by pressing his sensitive head against your arousal-slick flesh.

But when you whine and start to shift backward into him, he waits. Savors. “You need my cock that bad, huh?”

“Please, I need it. I want it—”

It’s that thing he fantasizes about—the daydream he strokes himself to in the shower after he hunts, when he’s sticky with blood and the leash on his desire has long been snapped. Your whined plea for him, your need so stark and bright that he couldn’t ever possibly deny you. Your need for him so heightened it threatens to match his for you.

“Take it then,” he pants. “Take what you asked for.”

He sinks his cock into the welcoming heat of your body, pressing slowly against the tight resistance of little preparation—hears the soft, drawn-out oh of your pleasure—and he knows there’s no coming back from this.

*** So he doesn’t fight it. He keeps you.

Days turn into a week. Into two. You bring life and sound to this desolate place—the creak of your steps on the hardwood floor, the sound of your humming, the quiet clanks of your movements around the kitchen in the early morning light. The quiet, steady tick of your heartbeat. All those pretty little noises you make when he has you in his bed—the moans and the whimpers and the pleas. His pillow smells like mellow spring flowers, and there are rose colored skirts and silky blue pajamas in his dresser.

He likes it.

He likes the noise and the tightness of the space and the company.

When he heads outside to chop wood for the fireplace, you follow to watch him roll up the duraweave sleeves of his flight suit and swing the ax—again and again until a thick log splits down the middle with a crack—and the attention pleases him.

The weeks stack up, and there is a bar of soap speckled with lavender flowers in his shower. There are sweet strawberry preserves lined up in his cupboard, a colorful wool throw blanket tossed over the back of the couch that you insist is a necessity. For sitting in front of the fire, of course. You poke fun at his ascetic choices, at the lack of coziness in his house, but you don’t seem mad at all to be the one to provide it.

He thinks you know instinctively that home isn’t a place or a concept he’s familiar with. He thinks you love being the one to show him what it could mean.

He can tell you don’t mind that you have to face opposite directions when you eat. He thinks you like the sound of his voice even more when it’s not passed through the modulator. You draw out every meal with questions. He draws them out with his answers.

He tells you about the little green bounty that changed his life, the soup his mother made for him when he was sick, being adopted by the Mandalorians, the fact that he used to love swimming as a child. That sometimes he thinks about how good it would feel to strip off his armor and swim now. You tell him about your dreams, your childhood, your plans, everything.

When he slips his helmet on again and you turn to face him, he can see that the gulf between what he does tell you and the whole truth is obvious, though.

There is a question—are many questions—swimming in your eyes. The intention to get answers too. He’s not sure which exactly questions they are: Why the armor? The helmet? The Creed? Why this place? Where is he going next? When? What happened to him? What is he? Why the isolation and the fear and the hesitation and mile-high walls and why why why?

What the fuck happened to the wall of the shower?

Valid questions, every one. Many are things he asks himself regularly. All are questions he doesn’t know how to answer without shattering this perfect moment, without ruining the lovely domesticity you’re cultivating together. So when he sees that look and your lips part, Din speaks before you can. He’s not ready, yet, to go there. He reaches for your hand or strokes a gloved finger over your cheek and deflects.

Just a little longer, he thinks, please. And you’re not fooled—he knows that. You understand the request and allow it for now, and he’ll take what he can.

“You want to learn how to shoot?” he asks instead.

Your eyes light up.

He helps you pick a blaster from his collection—“How many blasters does one man need, Mando?”—that’s well suited to you, that fits your grip. He sets up targets outside, scattered on trees at varying distances, and stands close behind you, a solid wall against your back. He adjusts your stance and the placement of your hands, letting his touch linger on your waist in a way that makes your heart rate readout on his helmet spike.

“Are you going to let me focus or not?” you quip, peering at him over your shoulder. “I thought you were trying to teach me something here.”

He raises innocent hands and steps back. “I didn’t realize I was distracting you.”

You smile slyly at him. “Sure.”

He lets himself enjoy it, the ease between you, the way you can read him even through the armor. Standing a short distance behind you, he talks you through the process: how to aim and shoot, how to breathe.

Hand-to-hand, next, he thinks to himself as he watches you practice. Then blades. Tracking.

He’ll teach you anything and everything that will protect you.

For when he’s no longer here to do it for you, he doesn’t let himself think.

He watches you practice each day, watches you focus on the target, your lip caught between your teeth in concentration, until you nail the bullseye. You run to the tree where the target is hanging—a hole singed through the middle—letting out a triumphant cry, and he follows.

“Look,” you grin, so proud it makes his heart trip. You point at the perfectly placed burn mark.

“Good,” he praises. “Do it again.”

You roll your eyes, but you do. You return dutifully to the line he’d drawn in the pine needle strewn ground and shoot until you get the hang of it, until a miss is rare. And then he fucks you up against that tree, your dress bunched up around your hips, the blaster abandoned somewhere by your feet.

You leave for a day, maybe two, here and there to check on things at home, that little fawn you love. As soon as you’re gone, he spends a couple hours getting as far in the opposite direction as he can, changing, hunting whatever he can find in the shortest time, and then after he’s washed every trace of blood away and donned his armor, he waits for you to come back. He tells himself it’s a perfectly workable arrangement.

It’s fine. It’s safe. Safe enough.

With his attention elsewhere, it takes him a few weeks to notice that those prints, the ones he’d been tracking so obsessively, have started to show up closer to his house, to yours. They mark a quiet, slow encroachment into his territory—inching just barely past that boundary he’d been so careful to hold until recently. Their bravery is returning, their local numbers rebounding, because he hasn’t been pushing them back by culling their pack with regularity.

He makes a mental note to keep a closer eye on things, reassured by the fact that there are miles of buffer between their progress and you. And, more importantly, that more often than not, he’s by your side these days—like the times you ask him to come with you when you leave. He’s not going to say no to you.

Every night, he gets to undress you and pull you into his bed. To touch you and fuck you and make you come. He gets to learn what makes you cry, what makes you scream, what makes you beg.

All in the armor, still. In the beskar prison that keeps you safe from him. That line he manages, somehow, to maintain. The monster in him hasn’t wrested it from him yet, and he clings to that last safety net, that final border between risky and reckless.

He wonders every day when you’ll hit your threshold. When it’ll all become too much—the secrets and the questions and the armor. Every day you don’t ask or push or leave, he breathes a sigh of relief, knowing full well it just means the next day is more likely. That worry is so dwarfed by the pleasure of having you that he barely notices it, though.

It helps, too, that he’s well rested for the first time in a long time.

Din doesn’t dream when you’re in his bed, isn’t haunted by the nightmares. He slips into sleep, and it doesn’t fight him like it usually does. He sleeps soundly with your warm, soft form tucked against his side, your face pressed into his cowl. Your presence, your touch, your scent—they soothe him.

He’s always known—even before he admitted it to himself—that there would be no halfway with this. No measured approach to having you. And he was right, of course. Here you are, living with him… and happy, he thinks. He doesn’t like to think about what would happen if that changed, if you left. What he'd do. What he'd have to stop himself from doing.

Din loves hard, with teeth, and all of his are sunk deep in you. If he really thinks about it, though, the opposite is true. Yours, sunk deep in him. You have a bone-deep hold on him, a fatal bite that severed something vital upon first contact. If you decided to let go, he’d bleed out.

And he feels lighter than he has in months. Maybe years.

It scares him so much he doesn’t want to think about it.

So he doesn’t.

YOU

It’s not intentional. You don’t sit down together and make a decision, but you don’t want to leave and he doesn’t want you to go. So you just…don’t.

Slowly, with time, your most essential things migrate from your place to his. You bring a bag of clothes here and your favorite blanket another time. Your shampoo comes along with other bathroom essentials, and some kitchen supplies find their way into his drawers and cabinets.

Within a few weeks, you all but live with him.

You know instinctively that the opposite arrangement—staying together at your house—isn’t possible. Whether or not it’s actually necessary, Mando takes his self-imposed exile seriously. It’s another of the many things you don’t push him on.

Yet.

You visit home on a regular basis, of course, to keep an eye on things. Town, too, for supplies. You make the long walk alone—or sometimes together when you can convince him to put off whatever mysterious, imperative thing he has to do when you’re gone, and it feels shorter then. He’s not so hard to persuade.

You check on Luna, who is happy and well fed in the warmth of the barn, kept company by the chickens and the handful of braying goats.

You find that she’s terrified of other people—or at least of Mando. You’ve never brought anyone else around so it’s hard to know if it’s something about him specifically. Maybe it’s the armor or his size. The first time she sees him, she goes rigid, the picture of freeze, and it takes twenty minutes to calm her down after you nudge Mando back out of the barn and close the door behind him. Even after several visits, she remains wary of him, barely willing to tolerate his presence.

A detail, like so many others, you file away for later.

It's one of many that you don't mention—anything that might prompt impossible conversations. Instead of souring the moment, instead of asking the hundreds of questions that are piling up in your head, you tacitly agree to avoid those things, skirting around any topics that elicit unanswerable questions or suggest an expiration date. Again and again. For weeks.

Then months.

It’s easy enough to rationalize. Might as well make the short time you have together pain free. Only good.

And, fuck, is it good.

You wake in his bed each morning and fall back into it each night. You wait for your lust for him to abate, for the initial need to be sated. Two months in, though, it hasn’t so much as begun to subside. If anything, it’s grown. It’s fed, you think, by the fact that you still don’t get all of him—what you do get just makes you want more.

You get his hands, his cock, the expanse of his lower abdomen and upper thighs when he unbuckles his belt and fucks you. The sound of his unfiltered voice when you eat together. The sight of his thick, veined forearms when he chops wood. Snatches of golden skin dusted in dark hair.

Never his mouth, his eyes, his chest, the rest of him—his face. His face, that you think you might already love without having ever seen.

The why of it all—of the pace, of his nature—doesn’t feel so urgent any more, now that you’ve had the opportunity to soak him in, in more than just brief interactions. You can sense the why on him when you start to appreciate the weight of his past and his creed. There’s a layer of pain and loss calcified under his armor: you can all but feel it when your fingers work past an edge of beskar. He starts to tell you about it, too; he starts to untangle the complicated knot that is Mando. It’s usually during a meal when you’re faced away from each other and you get to hear his real voice that he starts to open up. You untease his past question by question, answer by answer.

When you do almost slip, almost ask a question that is too present, he helps you put it back. Offers a distraction that you gladly accept. An unspoken agreement of not yet.

He just needs time. You just need more time together.

You try not to think about the fact that you might not have time. No, you package that thought up with that list of forbidden questions, the ones that would threaten to crack the ice you’re standing on together, and tuck them all away.

You take the things that he does offer, accept his baffling limits. You satisfy yourself with the reminder of progress. If you think back to a few months ago and draw a line from those cordial interactions at the Saturday market to the current reality of living with him—to watching him welcome all the ways you insinuate yourself into his space, to witnessing the way he seems to soften for you—you can’t help but feel hopeful about what the next few months will hold.

*** Winter comes early this year, sneaking in on quiet feet. It descends around you slowly—in brisk mornings and frozen dew drops strung along twigs like pearls—and then it comes all at once in a sudden blanket of white. You wake up to a thick layer of snow on the ground, the tree limbs and roof frosted and glittering.

He teaches you how to protect yourself—how to shoot and fight and track. You think there’s a part of him that’s certain if he only teaches you enough, you’ll always be safe. You can feel it in his palpable sense of relief when you master a new skill. As if he has a mental list of things to impart on you before he runs out of time.

When you’re consistently nailing the center of his targets again and again, Mando outfits you with a blaster of your own, tells you to keep it on you at all times—that it’s yours. That day, he drops to one knee in front of you.

“Lean,” he says, patting his pauldron.

You listen without really thinking about it, bracing a hand on his shoulder.

“Up,” he says, gesturing to your foot and offering his armored thigh.

You comply, and he slips two loops of leather up your leg, the fabric of your skirt catching on his forearm as he inches them up, until the tips of his fingers brush your inner thigh. A holster. A holster he made for you.

He tightens the straps and then slips the small silver blaster into the leather sheath.

You graduate to hand-to-hand combat next—well, not so much graduate as add it to the schedule. He’s visibly pleased when he discovers that you already have some skills with a knife, when you know how to disarm him of his vibroblade in certain holds, how to make an attacker bleed freely with one well-placed slash. How to sever a tendon or an artery. But he finds plenty of ways to stump you, ways to overpower you, and you practice those until you know how to get out of them too.

A few weeks in, you’re more than satisfied with your skill level, ready to move on. Mando, on the other hand, is ever insistent on more. He holds you with your back against his chest, caught and pinned, a purring vibroblade at your throat.

You’re exhausted, sweaty and sore from breaking out of his grasp again and again. You’re supposed to be doing it once more right now. But you’re limp in his hold.

“Go on,” he grunts.

“I’m actually fine with this,” you decide, letting your weight go even more leaden in his arms.

He scoffs low in his throat. “Is that right.”

“That’s right. I surrender. Do with me what you will.” You drop your head back, looking up at his impassive visor.

He considers. “Anything?”

The word slithers up your spine. “Anything,” you repeat, letting your eyes go heavy-lidded.

He closes the blade and tosses it away, releasing his hold on you. When you lurch forward at the unexpected freedom, your knees buckling slightly, he catches your waist to steady you.

You spin to face him, pointing a finger at the diamond-like center of his chestplate, staying far enough away that he can’t encircle you in his arms again. “Technically that counts as me getting out of that hold.”

He plants a hand on his hip. “Disagree.”

“Emotional manipulation is a weapon. You’re just mad I’m better at it than you are. Maybe I should give you lessons. You know what, yeah, I think it’s only fair that we also start practicing scenarios where I’m the one in control.”

He cocks his head suggestively. “Are we still talking about training?”

“Yes.”

He stares at you silently, adjusting his weight from one foot to the other. It speaks volumes.

You scoff. “Are you implying that I could never have the upper hand in a fight? That there’s no chance in the galaxy of that ever happening?”

A damning beat of silence and then: “No.”

“You are!”

He gestures at his chest, shrugs. “Beskar.”

You roll your eyes. “I’d just need to catch you at the right moment—sleeping or showering—and take you by surprise. Or have the right weapon. Like poison. I know plenty of plants that would kill you—plenty of plants I could find out here or maybe…yeah…those.”

You gesture at the row of detonators lined up on the side of his belt as he reattaches it around his middle. He always takes it off before you practice hand-to-hand, along with the vambrace that apparently emits flame.

“Yeah, they’d be effective,” he admits, clipping the buckle together. “The problem is you don’t have any.”

“You don’t like me enough to share your detonators with me?”

“To kill me? No.”

“How about this one?” you ask, reaching toward the mysterious hilt that’s always clipped next to them.

He steps out of reach before you can touch it.

“What is it? Can I see it?”

“I don’t use it,” he says. You know him well enough now to read the lie in his level voice.

“Then why do you always carry it?”

“It’s…a long story.”

“I’ve got time,” you press, curious.

He looks away. “I can’t.”

And you realize it isn’t just stubbornness or stoicism. It’s pain. A bruise he isn’t ready to address, and you’re prodding it.

You wonder how many secrets can simmer between you before they boil over.

“Alright, come on,” you say, grabbing his hand and turning for the house. “I’m starving.”

*** It’s deep winter when Mando starts to take you into the woods, away from his house, to teach you the basics of tracking. Each time, when the forest lightens around you and you can hear the titter of birds overhead, he tells you to pick the tracks of a deer or a fox to follow. It’s easier now that the snow is thick on the ground, a continuous blanket of white.

He instructs you, as he always does, to disregard the larger prints—the clawed ones—that you come upon occasionally. Too often for comfort.

“I’ll take care of those,” he says, unconcerned.

Each time, you think back to that bloody trail and know he’s more than capable. And then you wonder when he’s away from you long enough to actually do that.

Never, it turns out.

You’re on the tail of a stag when he holds out an arm unexpectedly, stopping you in your tracks.

“What is it?”

He turns his head slowly, scanning the quiet forest. Listening, waiting. You can’t hear a thing—not a rustle of leaves or whisper of wind. The stag isn’t close.

“They’re coming.”

“The sta—?”

Mando drops his arm and grabs your hand, hauling you back in the direction of home. You follow on instinct when he breaks into a jog with you in tow, heavy boots crunching through the snow. He twitches as he moves; he groans and presses his shoulders back, rolling his neck, his hand too tight around yours.

He’s in pain.

“Mando—” you say, trying to slow him down, to understand.

“Run,” he interrupts, pushing you ahead of him, urging you toward the house. “I can’t stop it."

You halt in front of him, a hand raised to his chest plate. “I can’t— I won’t—”

He growls when you hesitate, the sound not entirely human. His hands are shaking.

“I can help—” you start, not even entirely sure what you’re offering.

“I won’t risk you.”

“But—”

A gloved hand settles over your mouth, the other gripped tightly around your bicep. “We don’t have time for this. I won’t let you—I can’t—just go home and lock the door. And promise me you’ll stay there until I come back.”

He drops his hand and starts stripping off his gloves and vambraces. “What are you—?” The pieces click together belatedly in your head. Those colossal prints, the clawed ones.

They’re coming.

“Promise me,” he says, forcing them into your hands. “Take this too.”

He reaches for his helmet and rips it off his head, pushing it into your arms. Your jaw drops open in surprise. You don’t even have time—or the free hands—to cover your eyes or the sense to shut them tight.

“It’s okay,” he says, responding to the fear in your eyes. “I wanted to—been wanting to.”

You only have a moment to take him in. He’s just as handsome as you imagined—maybe, impossibly, more. His dark hair is wavy and tousled, falling across his forehead. His eyes are brown and wild with fear, his sharp jaw peppered with gray-flecked stubble. His perfect lips are set in a half-smile. He looks a little bashful for a moment, a little boyish as you study him.

He holds your face between his warm hands. “Promise you won’t leave the house until I come back.”

You nod.

“Say it,” he prompts, his dark eyes serious. He knows you didn’t really mean it the first time.

“I won’t leave the house until you come back,” you repeat, a little dazed.

You’re looking into his eyes. Your brain is struggling to process it.

There's fear there that doesn't just belong to the threat to your safety. It's more: the fear of being seen. Wholly.

You’re waiting for more words to come to you—something that will express the feeling that’s blooming in your chest without relying on words it’s too early to say.

“Be careful.” It’s the best you can manage.

He presses his lips to yours in a quick kiss. It’s too fast, not enough. If your arms weren’t full of beskar, you’d grab him to keep him close, to kiss him deeper. Instead, he’s pulling back and turning you on the spot with an iron grip.

“Go.”

He urges you forward with a gentle push, and you break into a jog, glancing over your shoulder as often as possible without running face-first into a tree or slipping in the powdery snow underfoot. He’s stripping off his chest plate, his pauldrons, his thigh guards. Leaving them haphazardly on the forest floor.

The last time you look back, his back is to you, and several pairs of yellow eyes are emerging in the dark spaces between the trees.

One, two, four—too many to count.

You’re tempted to stop. To turn back. To bring him the rest of his beskar. It feels so wrong to leave him out here, alone and unarmored. He’s stripping down from metal to man, and it feels unbearably vulnerable. Maybe you could help—

But just as you’re thinking that, Mando turns his head and bellows, “Go!”

You’re far from him—too far to truly make out the details—but you swear, even across the vast distance, that the whites of his eyes look black.

*** You drop the pile of beskar onto the kitchen table, unholster your blaster, and drag a chair to the window. You study the intricate line work of ice on the frosted pane, tracing cold veins with the pad of your finger. You fidget and shift, but you don’t dare leave your spot.

You stare at the place between the trees where you emerged, straining to hear any sound, knuckles white where they’re wrapped around the edge of your seat.

It’s silent.

Minutes pass like molasses—they stretch and sprawl, leisurely and unhurried, while you wait.

You steal glances at the clock on the wall. You swear it’s been hours since you slid the dead bolt shut behind you, but the clock tells you you’ve been sitting here for eight minutes.

Ten.

Twelve.

Seventeen.

He’s out there, outnumbered and alone.

Fuck it.

You get to your feet.

You wrench open the front door, but before you can break into a run, you catch a subtle movement between the trees. The blaster slips out of your hand. He’s staggering back to you—stripped and injured. His flight suit is unzipped to his waist, the sleeves tied around his hips. One hand is gripping his ribs, the other trapping pieces of his armor against his side. He’s barefoot and limping through the snow.

You run to him.

His hair is sticking to his sweaty forehead, and there’s blood on his face—so much blood—coating his lips, smeared across one flushed cheek. Lines running down his neck. It covers his hands, forearms. It’s splattered across his muscled chest. When his lips part in a pained grimace, you can see the inside of his mouth is bloody too, red lining his white teeth.

You don’t have time to process it, to think about what it means because he’s hurt.

He must see the terror on your face when you register the state of him because he shakes his head and says, “Not mine. Just this,” jerking his chin down to gesture at his side.

A row of deep lacerations is seeping blood down his ribs, over his tense fingers and down his stomach, where it’s soaking into the dark fabric bunched at his hips. You shudder at the sight of it—even through his spread fingers, you can see that his flesh is torn open in a way that makes your stomach pitch.

Behind him, there’s a sporadic trail between the trees, red dripped on virgin snow.

You want to hold him, to pull him into your arms, and, most of all, to fix him and put him back together. You start by taking the pile of armor from him and slipping under the arm of his uninjured side, pulling it over your shoulders to support his weight. He accepts the help wordlessly, leaning on you as you stumble forward together.

“They’re gone,” he pants. “Dead. Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” you scoff. “Are you?”

“I’ll be fine.”

“You’re bleeding.”

He grunts.

You limp the rest of the distance to the house together and pull open the front door, kicking it shut behind you as you help him inside. He reaches behind you to lock it, his shoulders dropping in relief when it clicks.

You drop his beskar on the floor as gently as you can while you’re half holding him up. It clatters.

“We need to get these closed up,” you say, gesturing toward a kitchen chair. “You need bacta. Sit down.”

When he doesn’t move to sit, you look up at his face, and he’s staring at you with an intensity—a soft, quiet intensity of creased brows and bright brown eyes—that takes your breath away.

“I’m fine,” he protests, gently gripping your shoulders and pushing you back in the direction of the bed instead. He fumbles with the hem of your shirt, trembling fingers slipping under the fabric to caress your skin. “I’ll heal. Just let me touch you.”

His hands are hot on your waist.

"You’re not okay,” you protest, trying and failing to redirect him. “You won’t heal if you bleed out.”

“I just need to hold you.” His words are starting to slur, running together. The blood loss is tipping him into delirium.

“After—just let me—”

He ignores you and curls himself around you, crushing you against his body, a heavy hand holding your head to his chest, the other arm locking yours to your sides.

“Mando, please—I really need to stop the bleeding—”

“Din,” he says, nestling his face against your neck sweetly. His forehead is sweaty and feverish. He brushes gentle lips over your fluttering pulse. “My name is Din.”

You’re speechless.

“I want you to call me that,” he says. “Please.” There’s a heartbreaking vulnerability behind his words, like he’s worried you won’t accept the offering of something so precious.

“Of course. Of course, I will.” His grip slackens, and you wrap your arms around his middle reflexively. The heat of his throbbing wound and the hot slip of blood against your forearm make you recoil.

“Shit—sorry—”

But Din doesn’t react to the pain.

“Din—hey—”

You try to pull back, to extricate yourself from his hold and get a better look at him, but the arms draped over your shoulders go leaden, and he sways on his feet, forcing you backward a couple faltering steps. The backs of your calves hit the bed.

“Din—” You try to steady him, but he’s getting heavier by the second, his weight shifting unexpectedly as he tries to keep his balance, half-conscious and fading.

Your knees threaten to buckle when he grunts and goes completely boneless, slumping against you.

“Fuck—”

You’re just barely able to angle your body so that you can gently—and awkwardly—use his momentum to guide him face-first onto the bed. It’s a miracle you both don’t end up in a crumpled pile on the floor. You hoist his legs up too. It takes all your strength to haul his dead weight over to flip him onto his back so you can access the slashes across his ribs.

Your heart jumps into your throat when you see how rapidly a crimson stain is spreading on the comforter underneath him. You run for the med kit, dumping it on the bed beside his prone form and digging out all the necessities.

He doesn’t flinch when you clean, close, and dress the wounds. Not even when you prick him with a bacta shot. You work as quickly and carefully as you can, keeping tabs on his breathing all the while. Any time you have a free hand, you rest it on his chest, soothed by the shallow but steady rise and fall.

The whole time, you think about all those questions, those details, those secrets. You turn them over again and again in your head in a feverish loop—all those things you’ve been stacking on top of one another all this time, a teetering pile of essential pieces of him, ready to topple with a gentle nudge. Kept at bay by distractions and diversions and half-truths. All the ways you’ve both been keeping your relationship in stasis to postpone…what? Loss? Something that’s inevitable, something no one can ever truly prevent. It feels undeniable when your hands are covered in his blood. When you almost lost him anyway.

It seems obvious now. Obvious that in the end, it will be more painful to have only stayed in this place with him than to have at least tried to give yourself wholly to whatever this is.

Before you secure the final bandage over the wounds, you check your work once, twice—terrified the simple expansion of his ribcage as he breathes will force them open again. You press edges of the bandage down and watch closely, dreading the red seep of blood on clean white. It doesn’t come. You breathe a sigh of relief.

You clean him up with a moist towel, wiping the blood from his skin, his face, his rumpled hair.

If he hadn’t chosen to take his helmet off before any of this, you’d feel like you were invading his privacy by being able to see so much of him. It still feels that way, just a little, as you admire the taut lines of his biceps, the broad spread of his shoulders, and thick muscles of his pectorals. As you gently swipe over the soft expanse of his middle, feel the hard abdominals underneath. As you study the slope of his nose and the grays threaded through his stubble, his long eyelashes fanned over his cheeks. The soft pink of his lips.

You rinse that stained-red towel until the water runs clear, until there’s no trace of blood left on him.

The bloodied sheets and blanket and pillow underneath him will have to wait; it doesn’t even occur to you to be bothered by them when you climb in next to him, when you sweep his damp hair back off his forehead and press your lips to his warm skin and settle against his non-injured side.

You fall asleep like that, your head on his sternum, the subtle rise and fall sweeter than a lullaby.

*** He’s healed by the morning.

He’s healed.

When you wake after a fitful sleep, you scramble out of bed to pull back his bandages and find that the wounds slashed across his ribs look like they’ve had several weeks to mend, the skin knitted back together seamlessly. You run your fingers gingerly over the tender flesh in wonder, in relief.

Another one of his secrets. Something else to ask.

He rouses at your touch, starting as he blinks open bleary eyes. He must be immediately aware of the absence of his helmet because his whole body tenses as he recoils, his eyes panicked as he tries to decide to attack or to flee, jerking away from your hand on his arm.

“It’s okay,” you say, holding up your hands in placation. “It’s me, Din. It’s just me. You’re safe—you’re home.”

He calms somewhat as he meets your gaze, as he registers your face and his surroundings, settling his head back against the pillow. The tension in his body remains.

“How are you feeling?” you ask, resisting the urge to reach up and brush his tousled hair off his forehead. Touch, you think, is his to initiate in this moment.

“Fine,” he croaks. He’s visibly uncomfortable like this, still not used to being so unguarded around someone else. Holding eye contact for longer than a moment seems almost unbearable for him, his eyes shifting around the room so they don’t have to stay settled on yours.

You hand him a glass of water, and he sits up against the headboard to drink it. He winces a little as he maneuvers, his jaw ticking. He’s sore.

“You’re the worst patient, you know,” you gripe, trying to lighten the mood, to give him something to focus on.

He scoffs, lifting an eyebrow over the rim of the glass.

You give him an unimpressed glare. “I couldn’t take care of you until you fainted from blood loss.”

He has the audacity to shrug a little.

You blow out an exasperated breath, distracted, maybe, by the movement of his throat as he swallows. By every detail of his face that you can’t seem to memorize quickly enough—a privilege you’re more than willing to relinquish if it means easing the tension in his shoulders, the wrinkle of concern etched between his brows.

When he sets the glass down on the bedside table, you retrieve his helmet and offer it to him wordlessly, a show of nonjudgmental understanding, a willingness to back-pedal if that’s what he needs right now. His eyes soften when he takes it.

The urge to say something before he disappears behind beskar jumps up your throat.

“I was scared, so scared,” you admit quietly. “Din, I thought—I thought you…”

He sets his helmet beside him on the bed and jerks his chin. “Come here.”

You make to settle next to him, but he pulls you onto his lap instead, guiding you until you’re straddling his thighs.

You try to wriggle away. “I’m going to hurt you like this—just let me—”

“Shhh,” he breathes, hands locking down on your hips. “I’m fine, okay? I’m not going anywhere.” He hesitates for the briefest moment before he leans forward and presses his mouth to yours.

His lips are soft, tentative. His first, you realize. Of course.

Your mind snags on the way he tends to be in bed—directive, commanding, sure—and holds the two up side by side. This hesitation, the halting press of his lips, has something in your chest going soft. Between your legs going molten.

You cup his jaw and lick into his mouth when his lips part—an it’s okay, I want you to take—and his breath goes ragged against yours. He leans into you, an arm slung low around your back to keep you close as he starts to tip you backward.

“Don’t move,” you say, attempting to ease him back gently.

He ignores the command, responding to your open mouth with the slip of his tongue.

“Or I’ll stop,” you threaten.

He sits back, chastened, a subtle pout to his lower lip. It disappears when you lean back in.

He makes a low noise of protest when you don’t meet his lips, but it turns into something pleased when you move your attention to his neck. You lick over his thrumming pulse, across the faint saltiness of his flushed skin. Your hands roam the planes of his chest, over his pounding heart, and down the swells of his muscled arms—greedy for so much warm skin, for so much of him you’ve never seen or touched or tasted.

Even with the helmet set beside you, the fear that you’ll have to go back—to concede gained ground—that he’ll revert back to full armor again, rankles at the back of your mind. You dig your nails lightly into his shoulders, and he growls.

You can tell it’s taking all his restraint not to move, to keep totally still aside from his wandering hands. You know he’s hard underneath you, that he’s aching to wrest control from your hands, to put you on your back and fuck you like this, with no layers between you. And he knows you won’t let him when he’s still healing.

You try not to let it escalate, to keep things from getting out of hand. But then his mouth is on yours again, your lip caught gently between his teeth, his hand locked possessively around the nape of your neck, and you can’t help the quiet moan or the subtle grind of your hips in his lap.

Din jerks back, hands braced on your shoulders to keep distance between your bodies, his head tipped back against the headboard and eyes closed as his panted breath gradually slows.

And you know it’s not just the injury. He isn’t humoring you or in too much pain. He’s fighting it—the transformation, the change that keeps him in his beskar. What he wouldn't let you see in the forest.

“It doesn’t bother me,” you say—quiet, serious.

He pauses, understanding despite the sharp turn. The energy in the room shifts as he waits for you to continue.

“Your…you—?” you stumble over the words, struggling to find the right ones. It comes out badly. “What you…are.”

His eyes are downcast, fixed on the silver shine of his helmet.

He doesn’t ask how. Of course you know—it’s an open secret between you, has been for months.

“I want to see,” you press. An honest plea. “To know. Just let it happen.”

A tight, subtle shake of his head. No.

“Please, Din,” you say, laying a hand on his chest. “Show me.”

He looks away, his eyes full of some unnameable emotion, something soft and fragile, a sharp edge that might be anger. He slips away so easily, even without the helmet.

“Please,” you beg, framing his face with your hands to guide his gaze gently back to yours.

He still won’t meet your eyes.

Suddenly, you know this was a mistake. That this is the thing that’s going to break what’s between you. He’s given you his face, his name—they should be enough. Yet, here you are, pushing him for more. There’s no coming back from it, no swallowing the words, though. You find you don’t want to anymore, even when you can feel him slipping out of your hands.

“It’s not safe,” he says.

“How? It’s you.”

“No,” he says, “it’s not.”

“I don’t understand, Din,” you say, a hint of desperation laced between your words. “And I need to. I need to understand. We can’t avoid it any more—look at what happened. I just—I can’t do this when I know I don’t have all of you. I can’t do this anymore. All these walls, all these secrets between us.”

His head snaps to you, a flicker of panic kindling in his eyes. But he doesn’t deny it, the skirting and avoidance, the game you’ve both been so willing to play. His eyes settle on your joined hands.

“I want all of you. I need all of you. Can you understand that?”

“Yes,” he says, his voice low, and the panic in his eyes is swallowed by a deep, hollow want—a yawning blackness that expands and disappears so quickly you think you must have imagined it. “I do understand that.”

“Then let me see you.”

His brown eyes flick upward to meet yours, and he nods.

#my writing #monster!din #dark!din

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indieyuugure · 9 months

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You know, I just thought: would turtles be uncomfortable with a weak human body? After all, they lived their whole lives as superhumanly strong mutants with strong skin, regeneration, and armor in the form of a shell. And now their bellies and backs are not protected at all. Will there be their first reaction in the comic to being punched in the stomach and falling on their back? One of those falls that knocks all the air out of your lungs and you can't breathe for a few seconds and you think you're going to die without oxygen.

Lol, they absolutely hate it! Raph hates how fragile he feels, he so used to being virtually indestructible, he doesn’t even know how to fight with such high stakes, and same with all the brothers!

I thought the exact same thing when writing this and that’s what I keep alluding to when I mention The Shredder. You guys seemed to be wondering why in that picture of them frantically concocting the Anti-X for Donnie, that Leo looked like he was about to pass out, well, this is why:

Mikey gets knocked out for a bit with a punch to the gut, Raph gets thrown into the concrete floor, braking a couple ribs and completely knocking the wind out of him, and Leo ends up taking a Shredder slice to the back trying to protect Raph while he’s down.

Splinter of course gives them a stern lecture on the importance of adapting to their knew, more fragile bodies. That is as soon as he makes sure they’re not currently dying.

#tmnt #q&a #the mutation situation #teenage mutant ninja turtles 2012 #tmnt 2012

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