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bitsandbobsofwriting · 3 years

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A new servant desperately struggles to understand what exactly Merlin is:

A cryptid? Arthur's boyfriend? Simply a dude? The court jester? Something else entirely? Who knows, certainly not the new guy.

The first time the new kitchen-hand, Tristan, saw The King’s dark-haired servant sprinting down the corridor, he couldn’t tell if the man was laughing or crying.

He was fast, faster than Tristan thought possible for someone whose arms were so full of laundry, but he politely steps out of the way, coming to the conclusion that he must’ve been late for something. At least... he did think that, until he turns the next corner to see three of The king’s most trusted knights peering out of windows and into random doors. Tristan freezes in the corridor, he’d heard that servants were treated extremely well here, but he’d only been employed for a few days and he didn’t want to risk anything by pushing past or addressing his betters.

One of the knights, Sir Leon, his brain helpfully supplies, spots him stood there, and his annoyed frown quickly morphs into a friendly smile:

“Pardon me, sorry, I don’t suppose you’ve seen Merlin around anywhere, have you?”

Tristan’s eyes go wide and the grip he has on his tray tightens, but he forces himself to take a breath and answer, trying his best to keep his voice even:

“Merlin is... The King’s manservant? Tall, with dark hair?”

Another knight pushes forward, he looks to be the oldest, with dark hair falling in an almost deliberately tousled way around his bearded jawline. His charming grin seems just a little too wide to be genuine, but Tristan isn’t quite sure if that’s because he’s about to take pleasure in punishing someone, or if he’s just being polite to a stranger:

“Yeah, yeah that’s him, seen him? Arsehole turned our shirts pink in the wash, and something tells me it was deliberate.”

Tristan gulps at the accusation and he takes a shaky step back, but before he can even think of defending the stranger that he now thinks must’ve been crying, the last of the three knights, a giant, if Tristan believed in such things, steps forward:

“Don’t worry, we won’t beat him too much.”

He says it with a grin and a quirk of his eyebrows, but once again the kitchen-hand can’t tell if it was cruel or genuine, if he was being sarcastic or not.

“Uh... yeah, he turned left at the end of this corridor, but I didn’t see where he went after that, I apologise.”

Sir Leon waves away his apology with a smile, looking to the long-haired knight with a raised eyebrow:

“The stables?”

The man grins widely, nodding his agreement as he turns his grin to the giant. Sir Leon offers Tristan another soft smile, murmuring his thanks before moving past him, elbowing the other two to prompt them in to thanking him as well. The three of them march down the corridor with almost vindictive smiles on their faces, and Tristan prepares himself to see a vacancy note, or possibly a funeral invite, posted on the notice board by the next morning.

When he passes a window that evening to see the King’s manservant being carried on the giant’s shoulders as five other knights pelt them with gloves, a grin on every face, he decides that... well... it’s probably best to just not to ask.

The next time he sees Merlin, a few days later, The King is also there.

This is the first time Tristan has been in Arthur Pendragon’s presence, and though the other servant’s all rave on about how awkwardly kind he is, he’s a bundle of nerves. Not even Cook’s stories about how often she whacks The King’s knuckles with a wooden spoon when she catches him about to pilfer something stops Tristan’s heart from racing.

The King was overseeing a few of the servants decorate the main hall for a feast, and whilst Tristan is certain that that’s not something The King normally does, he doesn’t question it, just thinks that maybe the other servants had been telling the truth, and he was a genuinely nice, but normal man.

Merlin stands at his side, and though Tristan can’t hear their conversation, the two of them are clearly bickering over something. The servant can’t help his curiosity, wanting desperately to move closer to find out what sort of things The King allows his servant to bicker with him about; luckily, the table right next to them has yet to be laid, so he moves towards it quickly. He doesn’t even glance at them, terrified of being caught out, but perhaps Merlin surviving the knights non-wrath the other day is encouraging him, and his steps don’t falter. Their words come in to focus, and he has to stop the confused, and slightly horrified, frown from spreading across his face:

“Arthur, I swear to the Gods, if you make me wear that hat again, I’ll piss in your wine and serve it to you in front of a crowd.”

The King scoffs just as Tristan shakily begins laying down the cutlery:

“That’s treason, Merlin.”

“Do I look like I care? Not only will I piss in your wine, I will not hesitate to push you over a balcony at the first opportunity. This hall is high up and it’s a long way down to the gardens. He drank toxic wine and turned loopy and tipped himself off a balcony and went splat! That’s what people will say. I’m not wearing the Godamn hat.”

Tristan has to focus extra carefully to stop himself from gasping; Merlin just threatened to kill The King... that’s got to be a death sentence. Pissing off some knights that he’s obviously friendly with is one thing, but threatening to kill The-

“Ha ha. Very funny. If you can’t tell, Merlin, I’m being sarcastic, I know you struggle with complex concepts like that.”

Merlin just rolls his eyes, crossing his arms as he says with no hesitation:

“My mind is more than capable of coping, My Lord, it’s your belt I worry about being able to cope nowadays.”

Tristan bites his tongue to stop himself from yelping and turns away so neither of them can see his horrified face. The King just makes an outraged noise in the back of his throat, and Tristan can hear Merlin snort in laughter at whatever expression Arthur was wearing to match such a noise:

“Go to the stocks. I want you there for three hours.”

Tristan lets out a confused breath; Merlin threatens to kill The King, and gets playful sarcasm, but he implies The King might be a tad overweight, and gets sent to the stocks for three hours? How is that-

“Yeah... no. Not happening. The feast starts in less than two hours and I still have to help Guinevere organise some stuff in the courtyard, do Gaius’ rounds for him, then put an extra hole in your belt and help you get dressed because, despite being a grown man, you’re still an idiot who’s incapable of putting clothes on in any sort of decent manner.”

Tristan finds himself relaxing a little. This seems to be the norm for them, but surely... surely The King had a line somewhere, and a servant just flat out refusing to be disciplined must be where it lies?

Arthur just scoffs, and Tristan angles his head in such a way that he can see him roll his eyes:

“Fuck off.”

Merlin grins, seeming to cast a suspicious gaze over the room to make sure no one was watching and somehow completely missing Tristan stood just there, before saying quietly:

“You love me really, you prat.”

With that, Merlin reaches up to yank at a lock of The King’s hair before hurrying off in the direction of the courtyard before Arthur can react. The King jumps slightly, clearly caught by surprise as an annoyed flush rises on his face, but Tristan just frowns in confusion when his shock gives way to a softly amused smile.

Huh.

The next few times Tristan saw Merlin made him fear for the servant’s safety. He was being taken on hunts by The King and his knights, that’s meant to be for squires, to learn the ropes and gain experience in tracking and riding.

He supposes it isn’t entirely unheard of for a servant to follow their master on a hunt, but with the way Merlin complains without pause, and The King in turn complains about his complaining, he thinks it would better for everyone if Merlin just... didn’t go. When he brings it up to another servant, a lovely woman named Guinevere who had helped him get unlost at least three times in his first week, she just laughs and smiles at him pityingly:

“I wouldn’t worry, those two have been like that forever, they’re practically inseparable.”

Tristan responds with a rather intelligent sounding:

“...What?”

Gwen laughs softly again, shaking her head and patting his shoulder consolingly:

“You’ll get used to it, they’re just... like that.”

She gives him one more smile before turning to wave the boys out of the gates and walking back to the castle as if this were the most normal thing in the world. Tristan supposes that it probably is.

The next time Tristan sees Merlin leave the city gates with the knights, Sir Elyan, Sir Mordred, and Sir Lancelot this time, it’s distinctly worse. Because he’d caught sight of the patrol rota last time he ran food down to the training ground, and he was certain that those three had a city patrol right about now.

Before he even has time to gape in shock, he hears Merlin’s pleading voice as he trails Sir Elyan like a lost puppy:

“Please, El, I promise to stay out of the way, I will do anything, but I swear to the Gods if I have to spend one more minute around that prat, I’ll hurl myself from the battlements.”

Swearing to the Gods and threating to hurl various people, including himself, from significant heights seems to be some sort of theme for The King’s manservant. Before Tristan can consider the implications of that, Sir Elyan turns to Merlin with a wide, teasing grin on his face:

“You know, I would’ve let you tag along for free, Merlin, but now that you’ve promised me something I feel the need to take advantage.”

Tristan tenses at that, a shot of ice spiking down his spine. He has keen eyes and sharp ears, he knows that Sir Elyan is the lovely Gwen’s brother, Sir Mordred seems to have an... odd worship for the servant, and he’s definitely picked up on the close bond between Merlin and Sir Lancelot, but is this where Camelot’s image comes crashing down in Tristan’s head? He knew that it was better here for servant’s than other Kingdoms, but there are always people who’ll take advantage of their position, no matter where you are. Merlin’s shoulders just drop and he asks in a sulking voice:

“What do you want?”

Tristan grits his teeth, moving his gaze so no one would catch him glaring at the knight as he tries to figure out a way to help, a way to get this virtual stranger out of being... abused, in such a manner. If he’d carried on glaring, he would’ve noticed Elyan’s soft smile and amused raised eyebrow:

“Next time you gather herbs for Gaius, bring back some more of those flowers that you got for Gwen. She said they added vibrancy to the house, whatever that means, but they make her happy, so...-”

Merlin just giggles and nods and Tristan relaxes, looking back to them with a confused smile on his face. That was... actually kind of sweet, he can definitely see the resemblance between the knight and his sister:

“-AND I want whatever Arthur’s having for dinner tonight, his food always looks way nicer than ours.”

Merlin lets out a faux annoyed groan, but then rolls his eyes and grins, nodding:

“Consider it done. Can we go now? I really don’t want to risk him seeing me and giving me some stupid chore to do.”

Elyan laughs and nods, and the four of them begin making their way out of the courtyard and into the city. Sir Lancelot finally joins the conversation, clearly amused as he says:

“You know it’s literally your job to do chores, right?”

Merlin turns to glare at him as Sir Mordred and Sir Elyan laugh, and Tristan only just hears his reply as the castle gates shut behind them:

“Fuck off.”

Tristan decides it would be pointless to bring this up to anyone again, he figures he’ll probably just get the same answer as last time.

The next confusing incident happens only a few days later. But Tristan supposes that at this point... it really shouldn’t be confusing. Gwen was right, he did just... get used to it.

He heard the steps pounding down the corridor before he saw him, but they were coming fast and hard, so he presses himself against the wall, holding the tray to his side to protect it as best he could as Merlin comes skidding round the corner.

He stops just long enough for Tristan to calm himself by spying the wide grin on his face, but he’s quickly sprinting down the hall again, laughing as he waves whatever it is he’s got clutched in his hands. The second set of loud, rapid footsteps stops Tristan from stepping away from the wall quite yet. Just a moment later, Sir Gwaine follows Merlin’s skidded path around the corner, though the heavier man overshoots slightly and he runs into the wall opposite Tristan with a crash and a deep groan.

The rebellious knight gives a wide-eyed Tristan an awkward nod before pushing himself off the wall and following Merlin’s blazing trail, screaming down the corridor:

“I warned you Merlin!! Don’t come between a man and his ale, now give that back you bastard!”

Tristan hears Merlin’s laughter grow louder, even from the two corridors away that the other servant had managed to race to.

He shrugs to himself, waiting for a moment to see if anyone else was going to come barrelling around the corner before sighing, and continuing his journey up to the visiting Lord’s chambers.

It was unusual, he thought, how quickly he’d come to terms with the fact that a servant was sassing The King and pranking the knights and inviting himself on various hunts and patrols that he really had no business on. Unusual indeed.

He’d learnt to ignore it. Or at least brush it off.

In the two weeks since Merlin had (presumably) stolen Sir Gwaine’s skin of ale, he’d seen the servant call The King a long list of imaginative insults (what the hell is a dollop head?), walk around with Sir Leon’s cloak on because he was a little chilly, accuse someone of treason (and somehow been right about it), and threaten to kill at least seven people; including, but not limited to: The King himself, The King’s already dead father, some stuck up Noble (though that was under his breath, Tristan just happened to be stood next to him), and Sir Percival.

And Gwen was... absolutely right. He's just... like that. He's Merlin, and that’s what Merlin does.

So when he turns a corner in a rarely used to corridor to see him pressing The King against a wall, snogging the life out of him, Tristan simply turns around and walks back the other way. Both of them look fairly happy with the arrangement, and they’d probably chosen this corridor for the exact same reason Tristan had: it was out of everyone’s way, and was unlikely to be inhabited.

He thinks it’s odd, how... un-odd he finds it. He absent-mindedly thinks that, with the way they acted around each other, he really should’ve seen this coming. A sudden thought occurs to him, and he ducks into a storage cupboard, laying his tray down carefully as he rummages through the boxes. He lets out a quiet “Yay” when he finds what he’s looking for, carefully picking up his tray with only one hand and nudging the door open again with his hip.

He walks back towards the corner he had just turned (and turned again) making a conscious effort to keep his steps quiet; he places the danger sign, usually used where walls had collapsed or windows had been smashed, in the middle of the corridor, a clear indication of “Do Not Enter”.

He nods smugly at his quick thinking and easy handy work before mentally planning the quickest route to the kitchens and following it hurriedly.

He casually wonders if he has time to circle around to the other end of the corridor so he could put another sign down before Cook gets angry at him for being late. Probably not. At least, not before they... finish up and move on. Hmm. He suddenly panics about the thought of them seeing the sign and knowing that someone had spotted them but... well. Hopefully they would just appreciate it and move on.

Yet again, he decides not to bring this up to anyone. He may or may not have overheard a few of the knights making some sort of bet, and he may or may not want to watch on with amusement as they fail to realise that all of them have already lost.

Tristan smiles to himself; working here had turned out to be rather entertaining, in the end.

THE END

I know it’s short, but I really didn’t know what else to add without it sounding like I was just repeating myself over and over😅

I hope y’all enjoyed it!!

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sixeyesgojo · 3 years

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jjk characters handling your period

Summary: “What do you mean, no baby this month either? Okay, suffer then.” - your damn uterus

Pairings: Gojo/Megumi/Nanami/Naoya/Toji x Reader

Content warning: the monthly bloody nightmare your uterus puts you through and the whole shebang that comes with it, language warning, suggestive themes, explicit warning for Toji (you’ll see why)

A/N: purely self-indulgent because I suffer. @megumifushi and @sukirichi , my gals, I gotcha. Also dedicated to all readers who suffer from the same fate (may it be right now or not). Also: Yes, absolutely open the video I linked in Megumi’s part (it’s safe, I promise).

Gojo Satoru

You turn and turn in bed uncomfortably. Something isn’t right, you think and it’s not the fact that Satoru is missing next to you. Not knowing immediately irritates you. All of a sudden you become painfully aware of your lower region. Yes, of course it had to be that time of the month. You just knew you already stained your panties and perhaps the sheets haven’t been spared either. Getting out of bed, then realizing it was already past noon, you sprinted to the bathroom. Fuck, moving fast was not a good idea.

Having changed the sheets and your stained panties, you made your way to the kitchen. Your stomach growled, signaling you were hungry, but at the same time you feared. Smelling food, let alone tasting too much of it, was a slippery slope – either your nose would protest or your stomach, no in-between. Regardless, you had to eat; or were you supposed to starve to death because of this? Not in this lifetime. “I AM BACK!” an annoyingly loud voice rang through the apartment. You groan and turn around. “Fuck off, Satoru,” you say. Your irritation flaring up for seemingly no reason. “Stop being so motherfucking loud. My head feels like it’s going to split in two and my pussy is fighting the crimson war right now,” you snarled at him.

“Oh honey, seems like I called the right shots then,” he declared proudly and held up a bag filled with... snacks? “I already called in sick for you for the next few days,” Satoru continued to explain as he wrapped his arms around you, “and I’ll be by your side 24/7 for the next two days. We’ll do fun stuff. How does movie night with lots of cuddling for tonight sound?”

“Why are you so nice to me right now?” you mumbled, tears welling up in your eyes. “Simple: I don’t want to be castrated by you,” he whispered back and planted a kiss on your cheek. “Fair enough. What will we do tomorrow?” He stayed silent but pulled out a black card out of his sleeve. You gasped.

Fushiguro Megumi

Ping. A notification. Quickly, you scrambled to get your phone to see what that was about. You desperately needed some distraction right now. The pain was too much. Your boyfriend Megumi had gone somewhere you didn’t know. All you knew was that your boobs were sore, the sensitive nipples rubbing against the fabric were already too much. In addition to that, you also experienced period cramps, resulting in back pain as well. Life was not easy at the moment but at least you could lay in bed for today, doing absolutely nothing.

Unlocking your phone, you saw a new message from Yuji: “omg look at this???” [Video link] It was a video of 42 seconds. There was a cute seal – probably the cutest and fluffiest seal you have ever seen – and background music. It may have only lasted 42 seconds but it definitely triggered some happy feelings inside you; it was so pure and you loved the energy of the clip. Perhaps these feelings were a bit too intense and overwhelming. Tears streamed down your face and you started sobbing uncontrollably. Why were you like this? It wasn’t even a sad video, was it?

You buried your face in the blankets, weeping as if someone just broke up with you. Through your loud crying, you did not notice the door opening. A jangling noise could be heard from your nightstand. Instantly, you shot up to check for intruders but luckily, it was Megumi. A frown spread on his face. “What happened?” he asked as his thumbs wiped your tears from your cheeks. You showed him the video, still sobbing, “Look at the seal... It’s so c-cute. I just... got emotional because it really t-traveled the world. This cutie deserves the whole world...”

“And so do you,” he bluntly stated, “now take the ibuprofen I brought you for the cramps and rest up.” As a matter of fact, he not only brought you painkillers but a hot water bottle and food as well.

Nanami Kento

“No, give me that. Lay down and rest. I can dust off the shelves on my own,” his deep voice commanded. If there was a man that screamed “male wife” it was definitely Nanami Kento, particularly when it came to you being on your period. You weren’t allowed to do anything in the house, except for very light chores. With good reason. “Kento, I can do–” Yeah, no, it wasn’t possible and Kento knew it too well.

You weren’t lucky when it came to period symptoms. Besides excruciating back pain, extremely sore breasts and headaches, you also had the luck to suffer from dizziness every single time you experienced the monthly nuisance. The first time you even passed out. In fact, it had happened several times. And that was precisely how Kento decided to not let you do anything. Still, you felt bad to leave everything to Kento. His work already demanded so much from him and here you were, being babied and even spoon-fed. You didn’t even have to cook your own meals or wash and iron laundry.

You had barely said those words when the unwelcome whirling sensation took you over again. Your feet wobbled, you were in danger of crashing to the ground. In a flash, Kento was by your side to steady you. “I told you not to overdo it.” He cupped your cheek with his warm hand. “Sorry, Kento. I’ll... just rest for a minute.”

Zenin Naoya

Period pain? Laughable. Naoya thought it was pathetic. A woman – these already weak creatures – having period symptoms was a mystery to him. What could possibly hurt about bleeding a little? He couldn’t understand. Your pitiable and sorry state was only another inconvenience to him. Not that you hindered him in any way – you were obedient enough to be quiet and complain as little as possible – but he absolutely despised seeing that annoying expression of pain on your face every time he had to look at it.

Hell, he didn’t even want to engage in sexual activities with you during that time, even though he had randomly picked up somewhere that it might help. Not that he wanted to help you, it was your problem and yours only, not his. “Stop looking at me with those eyes. It’s disgusting,” he remarked condescendingly as he got dressed for wherever he had to go. “When will you be back?” you croaked out but he totally ignored you.

“Women are so damn weak. It’s so fucking pathetic, I almost want to give you a hug,” Naoya gagged. He was about to leave the room but stopped in his tracks. Looking over his shoulder, he caught a glimpse of your face that was contorted with pain. In long strides, he made it to one of the cabinets, fished out a tiny box and threw it on the bed. “Tsk, you better get well soon so you can serve me again, dumb bitch.”

Fushiguro Toji (soft)

Work hadn’t been treating him kindly: not yesterday, not today, not ever. Although he was highly capable and never failed to exceed himself, all Toji truly wanted to do was to go home. When he finally made it through the door, he called out, “Am home.” Usually, you would come running to greet him but when nothing but silence greeted him, his hand instantly moved to the cursed creature lingering on his shoulder. It was suspicious. Did enemies manage to find this hideout? Where were you? His hands started sweating.

Stealthily, he approached the kitchen. To his surprise, he saw your form in front of the counter, hunched over in pain. Dropping his offensive stance immediately, he quickly strode over to check on you. “Hey, what are you doing there?” he asked, hesitatingly putting a hand on your shoulder. You looked at him, grimacing with pain, “Oh, Toji. I didn’t realize you were home yet. Sorry, I’m not done cooking dinner yet, I just feel so nauseous, exhausted and my entire back and shoulders hurt so much. It’s so sore.” “I see.” He nodded, understanding what was happening. Suddenly, he lifted you effortlessly. You squealed, “Toji!! What are you doing?!” “Taking care of you,” he promised. “But dinner!” “Don’t care.”

Making his way to the bedroom, Toji laid down with you on top of him. Something about his warmth already made you feel better but as his large palms rubbed your back in circular motions, you felt as if you were in heaven. Toji’s ministrations soothed the pain so well, you almost let out a moan. Now that the pain didn’t overshadow all the other symptoms anymore, the drowsiness took over. “Toji, ‘m tired,” you mumbled; eyelids fluttering already. “Then sleep. I’ll take care of dinner later,” he whispered. You only hummed in response, already far too gone. Slowly but surely, his steady heartbeat lulled you to sleep. “Sleep tight.”

Taglist: @megumifushi @gojos-mochi @assbuttbaek @bleueluna

#gojo x reader #megumi x reader #nanami x reader #naoya x reader #toji x reader #gojo satoru #fushiguro megumi #nanami kento #zenin naoya #fushiguro toji #toji fushiguro #jujutsu kaisen naoya #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #tw: period talk #tw: periods #tw: menstruation

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wishesunderthestars · 3 years

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Eunoia // Ch. 14

eunoia (noun): beautiful thinking, the possession of a well-balanced mind, which exhibits goodwill and kindness

Pairings: Hybrid! BTS x reader

Summary: You are a world famous director and you have dedicated your life to your job.You have everything you could ever dream of; wealth, recognition, talent, your friends and family. But loneliness ins’t cured by success. So what happens when you somehow rescue seven hybrids? Can they fill the void?

Genre: Angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, eventual smut

Word Count: 15k+

Warnings: Abuse and violence, past sexual abuse, derogetory language, sexual harassment

Masterlist

Chapter 1, Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13

It has been a long time, I know. Thanks for being patient with me. This was supposed to be the last chapter of Yoongi and Hoseok’s part but I just couldn’t fit everything that needed to happen inside or it would turn into a 30k chapter and be even more late, so I divided it into two.

The taglist is now closed.

Four days felt like a much smaller amount of time than when you had first been informed of your break. When you heard the alarm the morning you had to go back to work, you were tempted to ignore it and cover your head with the sheets. This was strange for two reasons. You always woke up before your alarm and it was impossible for you to fall asleep again after waking up, even when you were exhausted. But your eyes were heavy and sleep was clinging to your bones.

You reached for your phone and turned off the alarm. The hybrids were waiting for you in the kitchen, breakfast already served. You thanked Seokjin, who looked the most awake. Jimin and Jungkook were leaning against each other with their eyes half closed, small yawns escaping them every few minutes. It was a little earlier than the time you usually left but you had to do some work in the company building before you could go to the studios. Hoseok's injuries were much better, you didn't need to check on them twice a day anymore so you avoided going to their room and waking them up.

The fox hybrid had been opening up more and he looked more at ease with his surroundings. After eating dinner with you on the first night of your break, he had timidly asked if they could join you again. His whole face lit up when you told him they would always be welcome. Dinners had turned into lunches too, claiming that way you didn't have to carry the trays to their room every day.

You weren't surprised at how well he got along with Jimin. His heart-shaped smile had even charmed Namjoon. He was fascinated with every little thing and you made use of your break to show him around the house. It could be a little overwhelming, so you stuck to the basics at first. The kitchen, the upstairs living room, the library (where at least one of you could be found most times) and the cinema room. He looked at everything in wonder, his red tail wagging behind him. Yoongi trailed after you, the bored expression on his face slipping at how happy and excited Hoseok was.

The second day of your break Jimin announced that you would all be watching a movie. He would accept no complaints, not that there were any. You made enough popcorn for a whole movie theater while Seokjin and Jungkook made pizza. You strictly forbade them from putting on one of your movies. You were so deeply involved and connected with them you had trouble watching them without overthinking every scene, line and camera angle. Jimin pouted, joined by Jungkook and a more subtle Hoseok. But you didn’t budge. Jimin huffed and selected a comedy with an actor Seokjin liked.

It was the third day of your break and Jimin had dragged you with him to the guest suite, saying he needed his daily cuddles. You were laying together in his bed as you played with his blond strands. His hair was growing longer and he was complaining that it was falling in his eyes but you loved running your hands through it, your fingers getting lost inside. Jimin snuggled into your side, his tail wrapped around your waist.

“You are very affectionate today,” you said. Jimin let out an unsatisfied noise when you stopped massaging his scalp, so you moved your hand upwards, scratching behind his cat ears, eliciting a small moan from him.

“I am always affectionate,” he said, nuzzling against your collarbones. “You’re just not here and you’re tired when you come back.”

You placed a kiss on the crown of his head. “Sorry.” It was your job. You shouldn’t feel guilty. And yet…

Jimin raised his head, your hand falling from his hair to rest on his cheek. “Don’t be. I just wish you were here more. With us. But your job is important.”

“I guess,” you said caressing his cheek, the cat hybrid leaning into your touch. “I’ll try to get some more time off when I go back to work.” It would be difficult but not impossible. There were often breaks for a couple of days in the filming schedule but you usually spent those revising scripts or reviewing the work of the various departments or attending meetings. Many of those things weren’t actually your responsibilities, they weren’t in your contract, you did them because you wanted everything to be perfect. You could take a step back for once and make up for it later.

Jimin leaned against you, purring happily at the prospect of spending more time with you. He had been clinging to you in the past days after your week-long absence. The first night after making up with Jungkook he had slept with him in their room and you’d thought he would sleep there from now on. But the next night you had come out of the shower to find him laying in your bed.

A talk show was playing on the TV, filling the comfortable silence of the room. Jimin whispering your name had you looking away from the screen. “Hoseok is doing better, right?”

“He is. He’s recovering fast. Why are you asking?” you asked, worried that he had noticed something you hadn’t. Hybrids had much more developed senses than humans that could have detected something you had missed.

“He’s nice,” he said, playing with the fake buttons of your shirt. “He looks so happy all the time and he’s so energetic.”

“He is. See? He’s really getting better.” That didn’t seem to satisfy Jimin.

“What if they want to leave now that he’s better?”

You cooed at him, pulling him closer. “Is that what’s brought this on? If they want to leave we can’t stop them. The door is always open if they don’t want to be here anymore. They only came here because Hoseok was injured and he couldn’t go to the hospital.”

“But can they stay?” His eyes were shining as he looked up at you. “Please.”

“They can stay for as long as they want. But I can’t force them to stay.”

Jimin didn’t say anything more, hiding into your side. Last night at dinner, Jimin had been quiet and withdrawn, glancing at Yoongi every few minutes. There was history between them, one that ran deep and cut just as hard. From little clues and pieces and what Jimin himself had told you, you had pieced together an image of Jimin’s past but you had trouble finding where exactly Yoongi fit.

You hadn’t forgotten Jimin’s words in your office the day you had invited the two hybrids in your house. Yoongi once belonged to the same man Jimin did. They had done something to him and Jimin had been left to the adoption center he had escaped from. Yoongi had been left somewhere else, you guessed a less savory place. But you couldn’t figure out what they could have done to be kicked out. Something Jimin still felt guilty about. Betrayal was a strong and sticky word and it was hard to associate it with sweet Jimin, even when that man deserved that and more.

Yoongi was a mystery surrounded by several brick walls. Only a wrecking ball could break them down. You were the kind of person to knock on a wall and wait for it to crumble by itself when it came to people. At work, if the only way to get through an obstacle was a wrecking ball, you would bring a wrecking ball.

Surprises weren’t uncommon for you (see: Virginia earthquake), you had learnt to face them head on and control the consequences. But that hadn’t prepared you for the string of surprises during your break and the days after that.

The first surprise came with how well Hoseok was getting along with the other hybrids. His endearing excitement about anything and everything didn’t fail to amuse them. He would curl up on the grass, bathing in sunlight, often joined by Jimin who had developed the same habit when spring first arrived. He was curious about everything, asking question after question with his red fluffy tail wagging behind him like an overexcited puppy. All of you couldn’t help but humor him and try to answer his questions to the best of your abilities.

The second surprise shocked you more than the first. It was the third night the two hybrids were eating dinner with you in the backyard. Yoongi usually didn’t talk, opting to focus on his food while observing the progression of the meal. Thus when he spoke, everyone fell silent. He didn’t say much, it only took him a couple of seconds to compliment Jin’s cooking then become quiet again. Jin stuttered through his thanks, flustered at the unexpected compliment. The panther hybrid didn’t talk again for the rest of the meal.

The third surprise was seeing Yoongi and Jimin sitting next to each other, sometimes in silence and sometimes talking. Being pulled to each other like a moth to the flame. It made Hoseok all too happy to spend time with both of them.

The fourth surprise came in the form of a text from a contact you hadn’t interacted with since Christmas. You laid back on your bed, staring at the paragraphs-long text and forgetting about anything else. You stared and stared as if the letters would rearrange themselves, or better yet disappear if you stared long enough.

You didn’t notice how much time you had spent there unmoving until there was a knock on the door.

“Open,” you called.

The door was pushed open and Namjoon walked into the room, his gray hair falling in his face. In the mornings he looked younger. “Breakfast is ready.”

“Yeah,” you said, not moving. They never had to call you for breakfast. Your schedules had become so in sync you arrived for breakfast the moment it was ready or a few minutes early.

“What happened?” Namjoon asked. He approached, sitting down next to you on the bed.

“Nothing happened, I guess. It’s an invitation.” The text had been sent late last night but you had missed it, leaving your phone to charge upon coming back home and not looking at it again. “It’s from my parents. For a gala.”

“Your parents?” The surprise was evident in his face. You didn’t talk much about your parents, those were conversations you didn’t tend to enjoy. Your parents were a topic you weren’t well-versed in and your lack of confidence was irritating.

You looked at the text again, black letters surrounded by gray. “They invited me to a fashion gala. They would really appreciate it if I could attend.” Reading the text again, you wondered if your mother had asked someone else to write it before deeming it persuasive enough to send. “It’s held in Beverly Hills.”

“When?” Namjoon asked.

“Saturday. In less than a week.” It was Tuesday.

Namjoon glanced at your phone. “Do you want to go?”

The answer was more complicated than you would have liked. You didn’t feel like buying a new gown (god forbid if you wore a dress you had worn before at such an event), having your makeup and hair done and plastering a smile on your face while exchanging pleasantries with people you didn’t know for the whole night. But it wasn’t that easy. You hadn’t attended the Christmas event your mother had organized, using work as an excuse, not feeling like showing up at an event in the mindset you had fallen into. Although she didn’t show it, your mother had been offended.

You couldn’t skip another event.

You threw an arm over your eyes, groaning. “I can’t not go. My mother organized the gala, it will look bad if I’m not there.”

“I could come with you,” Namjoon offered.

It would be nice having someone there with you. Namjoon had a way of calming you down and settling your worries but actually remembering those galas made you change your mind. The rich and mighty loved showing off their wealth and power and hybrids were part of that allure. You wouldn’t subject Namjoon to that. You weren’t sure how he would react. You didn’t want to subject him to your parents’ scrutiny either.

“It would be better if I went alone,” you said. Namjoon threaded his fingers with yours in understanding. He pulled on your hand until you were sitting up on the bed, facing him.

“If you don’t want to go, you shouldn’t.”

Only that it wasn’t so simple. Or it was just your human nature making this overcomplicated.

“My mother will be really disappointed if I don’t go. I didn’t go to her last event, either. It will look bad if I don’t go to this one too.” Namjoon squeezed your hand, urging you to continue. “I’m just tired of them. Galas, events, they are all the same and not in a good way. Sure, there are some people worth talking too. I’ve had some great conversations there, but those are far and few in between. Most people are just trying to outshine the one next to them. And my mother only wants me there to complete the picture.”

The powerful and influential couple with their successful daughter. It was an image that haunted you. Most times you tried to ignore it because it wasn’t fair of you to judge your parents like that. They never made you attend those events, they didn’t get angry when you couldn’t make it. But it left a sour taste in your mouth when those events were the only times you saw them anymore.

“You don’t have to be alone there.” Namjoon brought your hand to his lips, placing a soft kiss in the middle of your palm. “I’m always here if you change your mind. It would feel better if you weren’t alone.”

“It isn’t that I don’t want you there. I do,” you said. “But that isn’t a world you want to be a part of, it isn’t really my world either. There, hybrids are just expensive accessories and I don’t want people to look at you like that. Like you are something to be had.”

Namjoon’s eyes were soft on you as he cupped your cheek with the hand that wasn’t holding yours. “That’s how most people look at us. It isn’t something new. You don’t have to worry about me, I’m used to it.”

“But it isn’t right.” You sounded like a five-year-old complaining that the world wasn’t fair because her parents didn’t buy her ice cream but you couldn’t help it. “And it isn’t just the other people, the guests. I’m not sure about my parents either. They don’t know I’ve adopted you. Actually, they don’t know about anything that has happened in my life this year.”

“I understand if you don’t want them to know about us.”

“It isn’t that,” you said. “Not exactly. I don’t want them involved in my business and judging my choices. They- They are my parents and I guess they care about me in their own way but I won’t be able to stay calm if they look at you like they are estimating your price tag.”

Namjoon leaned closer, bringing your foreheads together. You closed your eyes, surrounded by his warmth. “All I care about is for you to feel comfortable and if my presence there will make things worse then I won’t come with you. But if you change your mind, I’ll be right here. Whatever you want, I’m here.”

You tilted your head, waiting for his lips to touch yours. You shared a sweet kiss before there was another knock at the door.

“Namjoon! Did you wake her up?” Seokjin shouted from the other side of the door. “The breakfast is getting cold! I woke up at the crack of dawn to make it!”

You giggled as you separated.

“Let’s go before he decides we don’t deserve food,” Namjoon said.

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You had to readjust your schedule for the gala. There were many things you had to do in the five days leading up to it. Your mother was so pleased you accepted the invitation she called you the very next day to tell you how happy she was you would be attending. She hadn’t organized a fashion gala in years and it meant a lot that you would be there to support her. The gala was all about the importance of fashion and the unique interpretations of old and new big names in the industry. It would be one of the grandest events of the year, even if your mother was as clueless about fashion as she was about your life. She enjoyed watching the glorious parts and giving compliments, but rarely got more involved than that.

She had arranged for you to meet with one of the designers featured at the event. You could choose a dress from his collection that would be showcased at the gala. Your mother reassured you that they would do everything so your dress would be fitted to your exact measurements and ready for you to wear on time. You didn’t complain. It would be otherwise impossible to find a dress of the caliber your mother expected in such a short time.

The designer came to your house himself with his assistants. He was a nice young man with a tilted accent revealing that he wasn’t originally from the United States. You made small talk about the different kinds of art characterizing your jobs. They took your measurements and presented you with a few options the designer had selected for you. Some were more eccentric than others but all of them were beautiful.

After discussing with him and listening to his opinions, you selected a piece with gold and red embroidery and a flowy skirt. He was very pleased with your choice, going on and on about how good it would look on you. You felt fluttered at how excited he was for you to wear his design.

You had to meet him again a few days later for the first fitting. He offered to come to your house again but it would be easier for the alterations to be at his studio, where all of his tools were.

Jimin had seen the opportunity to spend more time with you and put on his most convincing puppy eyes asking you to take him with you to the fashion studio. You had no reason to refuse, you wanted to spend more time with him too. Somehow Jimin roped Seokjin into coming with you as well. They waited for you outside until the alterations were done. You couldn’t resist spoiling them while you were out so you took them for waffles. From Seokjin’s stuffed face it was safe to say he enjoyed them.

You had to go back to work after the fitting but Jimin was clinging to you not letting you go, which was how you ended up with the two of them at the final table-reading for the first episode of the Raven Cycle. They both quietly watched the actors delivering their lines. Jimin leaned forward in his seat as he got more and more invested in the scenes, snapping out of it whenever one scene ended and you discussed corrections and suggestions.

The atmosphere was light and friendly. You were professionals and you believed in maintaining a healthy environment of communication and mutual respect that left space for jokes and friendships to develop. The chemistry between the actors was important and you found that when they were friends and had a bond in real life too, it showed.

“Okay, that was great. I liked Ronan’s extra lines, we should keep that in.” The writer next to you wrote it down. “It’s getting late so let’s take a small break for a few minutes and move on to scene fifteen and sixteen and we’re completely done with episode one.” Everyone agreed with you and soon chatter was filling the room. You stretched your arms behind you, your body was complaining after sitting for too many hours.

The snacks and refreshments on the table against the wall were dwindling as the table-reading went on. All the important people in the project were there; the executive producers, the writers, the heads of the various departments and of course all the main actors of the first episode. The room with the large table and the many couches and chairs was large enough for everyone.

Three more days of table reading, which was mainly for revisions, and you would be done, leaving around a week before filming was scheduled to start. Just on time. Despite unfortunate surprises and earthquakes, you were on time. Next week you would be back in the studios standing behind the cameras watching years of work and planning coming to life. The first moments of filming in every movie or TV show whispered to you in silver and gold lines that you couldn’t describe as anything else than magic.

You picked up a bottle of water and a sandwich from the snack table, getting caught up in a short conversation with one of the producers. Your scalp was beginning to hurt from the tight ponytail your hair was trapped in. With a pat on your shoulder, the producer left to find the head of the costume department.

Jimin and Jin were sitting on the smallest couch, away from the table in the middle of the room. Jimin’s ears twitched as you settled on the armrest. You handed him the sandwich.

“For me?”

“You have been looking at it as much as you have been looking at the actors.”

Jimin still didn’t take a bite. “I already ate two.”

“And now you will eat one more.” You nudged the sandwich closer to his face. “They are quite small. I think Will has eaten seven since we started.” You glanced at your assistant, he was talking with two of the actors.

Jimin smiled at you like you were sharing a secret before diving into his sandwich. You opened your water bottle and gulped down half of it in seconds.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go? It’s past eight and it will take at least one more hour to finish the last two scenes and wrap everything up.” You had asked them if they wanted to leave three times since you’d arrived and the answer had been the same each time.

“It’s eight?” Jin asked, pulling out his phone from his pocket. You leaned over Jimin to peek at the screen seeing a few texts from Namjoon and Jungkook and notifications from the various apps Jin used. You had texted Namjoon earlier so he wouldn’t worry that Jin and Jimin hadn’t returned home.

“And it will be at least nine by the time I’m done,” you said.

“We’ve been here for three hours. We can wait for you one more.” Jin opened the messages app reading the texts, a smile appearing on his face.

Jimin had eaten more than half of the sandwich, crumbs sticking at the sides of his mouth. “I want to see what happens at the end. Pretty please?”

“We will wait for you,” Jin said. “We don’t have anything better to do,” he added, to which Jimin agreed enthusiastically. You scratched the cat hybrid's ears while he devoured the rest of the sandwich.

What you hadn’t considered before taking them with you was that the table reading would give away many spoilers for the show. Spoilers were the bane of your existence. Not everyone minded them but you disliked them with passion. You had almost strangled Zayn when he had told you a spoiler he had seen on Twitter for the ending of Avengers: Infinity War, minutes before the movie started. Zayn had been very lucky the lights hadn’t gone out yet. The suspense was one of your favorite parts and that was ruined for you when you knew what would happen.

At least it was the first episode but there was a lot of discussion on how certain parts or pieces of dialogue would connect with later episodes. The fact that it was an adaptation also changed things. You had been adamant about staying true to the original story and keeping in as many scenes from the book as you could. Your additions revolved around character development, the relationships between the characters, and some conflicts that hadn’t been in the book but you had discussed in length with Maggie. In this case, you didn’t know exactly how to define spoilers.

As expected, you finished the table reading twenty minutes past nine. Gathering all your folders from the table, the scripts, and various notes from the writers and producers, you hid them all away in your backpack. Henrietta and the magical forest were coming to life from their voices alone. You could already imagine how captivating it would be on screen.

Jimin was laying his head on Jin’s shoulder with his arm wrapped around the older’s waist. It had taken some time for them to relax in the room full of strangers, some of who hadn’t been subtle about staring. One look from you and their gazes had darted away. It still wasn’t common to have a hybrid, much less three, but you didn’t care how curious they were if they were making Jimin and Jin uncomfortable.

During the first break, early at the table reading, you had been roped into a debate about a possible change in one of the scenes. The two hybrids had kept to themselves, staying quiet and watching. The actress playing Blue had walked up to them with a wide smile and introduced herself. The remaining tension in them was released when she struck up a conversation with them.

“Time to get going,” you said. Jimin looked up at you, blinking drowsily. “Should I tell John to carry you to the car?”

“We’re leaving?” he asked, rubbing at his eyes.

“Thankfully yes so you need to get up.” You had wrapped everything up, saying goodbye to everyone and you were ready to go.

Jin kissed Jimin’s blond curls. “Let’s go and get you into an actual bed.” He got up and pulled Jimin with him, the younger hybrid was clinging to his back like a koala from the hallway where you met up with John to the parking lot.

In the car, you looked at them through the rear-view mirror. Jimin’s eyes were closed, laying his head on Jin’s shoulder.

“Hard day?” John asked, moving the gear shift to the left and then up.

“I’m a little afraid that my scenario might be a little boring,” you said glancing behind you. “It’s too early for him to be falling asleep.”

The car started moving, leaving the dimly lit parking lot behind. “He’s not used to being out for that long,” Jin said smoothing down Jimin’s hair with care. Jin cared for you with everything he had, you tried to do the same but it was close to impossible with how busy you were.

“If it’s my scenario though, I need to rewrite that thing from beginning to end.”

John chuckled. “Good luck telling that to the writers and the producers. They’ll love it.”

They’d love it as much as cats loved swimming.

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You took the day of the gala off. If you went to the gala tired after work, you wouldn’t be able to put a smile on your face and keep it there. It wasn’t so much that the galas were awful but that you felt out of place in them. Your mother had many connections and she would invite the “best” of her world. Some faces had become familiar, a steady fixture in your mother’s guest lists. Some faces you should be able to recognize but you didn’t, resulting in interactions based on pretending.

At the after-parties of award shows and premieres, you were more at ease. The designer dresses and suits were the same, worn by rich and influential people, but it was people you knew and respected. Your skin wasn’t prickling at the tension, lost somewhere between remembering a name or a company and ignoring the jabs at other guests or the rumors spreading like vines.

The last event you had attended was in New York last September, it had been the event of the year according to your mother. Jacob had accompanied you, hugging your mother and shaking hands with your father. He had stayed next to you from the moment you stepped into the place to the moment you got into the car to leave. You had to somewhat agree with your mother. A lot of interesting people were in attendance, famous writers and journalists, and you succeeded in ignoring the less favorable situations.

Your parents had changed a lot, or maybe it was just the circumstances that had changed and the different perspective you had as an adult. You used to cast them as the absentee parents, an overused trope you didn't find much merit in. It was too simple, too straightforward. They didn't disappear from one day to the next, cutting all contact with you. It was more like the times they were there grew fewer and fewer until they had moved permanently to New York by the time you were eight. Your father had been offered a position he couldn't refuse and your mother loved him too much to leave him alone there. She tried, she tried to stay for you but she had been trying to find a reason to leave your hometown since she was a teenager. The penthouses and neat offices fit her far better than the beaches and town squares ever did.

It started as a few weeks at first. Your father would be staying in the city for some meetings and your mother wanted to join him. His job involved a lot of traveling and in most of your memories, he was holding a suitcase. A few weeks turned into a month the next time, then into a few months you had to stay with your aunt and your cousins. After you turned eight, they were coming back only for a few weeks every year.

When you were ten you stopped answering their calls and refused to talk to them. Your mother still tried, even traveled back to be with you. Instead of staying at your house with her, you stayed with your aunt. Your mother left defeated. It took a year for you to speak to them again. Childish, but you couldn't blame your past self. The cracks in your relationship with your parents were still there. As an attempt to prevent them from widening and growing, you at least tried to attend the events your mother invited you to.

Another one to add to the list.

"Does the duck look ready to you?" you asked Jin. Roasted duck wasn't a dish you had experience with but that wasn't the only reason you called for Jin. Being home for the day you had offered to help Jin cook lunch. Cooking helped take your mind off, focusing on the recipe and chatting with Jin.

Jin left the lettuce he was washing in the bowl and dried his hands in a towel. His steps were careful and measured, one of his hands holding on the counter.

"It looks good," he said. "You can take it out."

You opened the oven, pulling back last minute so the heat wouldn't burn your face. "It smells incredible! I think I got ten times hungrier just smelling this."

Jin chuckled but it was strained. "I'm too good at this." He was still holding onto the counter.

"You won't catch me complaining."

He went back to the lettuce in the sink, his bangs falling into his face and covering his eyes. You wrapped the chicken breasts in foil and let them rest for a few minutes. The figs were caramelized and the potatoes fried until golden. That was about it for the main dish.

Jin was cutting the lettuce so you occupied yourself with making the salad dressing. You worked in silence. It wasn't for the lack of anything to say but a flinch from Jin earlier, while you had been talking, had you lowering your voice and then closing your mouth when you were finished with that sentence. It was only for a moment before he turned away, but it was enough for you to notice. You had asked him if he was alright twice and both times the answer had been the same. After that, it was clear he wouldn't tell you anything else regardless of how many times you asked.

A thud echoed in the room followed, not a second after, by the sound of metal clattering on wood. The spoon you used to mix the ingredients of the salad dressing stilled in your hand. Jin had fallen to his knees on the floor, holding the counted with one hand and his head with the other. The knife laid abandoned on the cutting board next to the lettuce.

For a moment your surroundings blurred from the surprise before coming into crystal clear focus. You rushed to Jin's side, who was trying to pull himself back up to his feet.

"I'm alright. I slipped," he said.

"You slipped? Seriously?" You had one arm around his waist and it stayed there as he leaned back against the counter. "What's wrong?"

"I'm just a little dizzy," Jin muttered. That close to him, only a breath away, you could see how pale he was, the dark circles under his eyes standing out against the white of his skin.

"You haven't been alright since we started cooking. You aren't just a little dizzy, that's not how someone is when they're a little dizzy."

Jin turned his head to the side, avoiding your gaze. "Let it go, please. Only the salad is left. I'll rest after we eat."

"Jin, that's not..." Clueless about how to continue, you pressed your palm to his forehead. In winter your hands were always freezing cold, it didn't matter if the temperature wasn't that low they would turn into popsicles mere seconds after going outside. Only that it wasn’t winter but spring and your hands were as warm as they could be, that’s why it was that much more concerning that his forehead was warmer than it should be under your touch. “You’re burning up. How are you still standing?”

“It isn��t that bad,” Jin said. He wasn’t looking at you.

“It isn’t that bad?” you repeated in disbelief. “Forget about the salad, I’m taking you to your room.”

You were about to turn around when Jin gripped your elbow weakly. “You don’t need to, really, I can finish up here, it isn’t the first time. I can do it.” The sweat that was gathering on his forehead and his tired eyes told a different story.

“You have been cooking while feeling sick?” you asked. Being out of the house almost all day it wouldn’t have been hard to miss and when you came back at night you weren’t that aware of your surroundings, but the other hybrids would have been able to see past Jin’s pretenses.

“Not here,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

That’s something you should have expected. You had never met his previous owners but you couldn’t stop yourself from hating them for what they had done to him. Hate was too strong of a word but you didn’t have any other name for the burning in your chest whenever you witnessed how insecure and self-conscious Jin had become of them.

You cupped his cheek in your palm turning his head to face you and you rested your forehead against his, your noses bumping. At the touch his shoulders slumped, his back muscles unraveling under your hand. Jin joked that it was weird that his scent glands weren’t in the same places as other hybrids’ but in strange places like his forehead. You couldn’t agree with him because standing there with your foreheads touching it was just as intimate.

The walk to his room was silent. You opened the door for him and watched him hide under the covers, between the countless pillows and stuffed animals. Before leaving, you placed a kiss on his forehead your lips warming up because of his fever. You wanted to stay there with him and with the way he was holding your hand he wanted the same but the lettuce was waiting for you back in the kitchen and there were five hybrids you had to feed.

Finishing up the meal was a matter of minutes. The dressing for the salad had been made and you only had to finish cutting the lettuce and a few fresh tomatoes before mixing everything in a large bowl. You unwrapped the foil from around the duck breasts and arranged them in plates, adding the figs with the pan juices and the fried potatoes. It looked like something you would order at a five-star restaurant, most of Jin’s cooking did.

The mouth-watering aroma must have drifted downstairs because as you were putting the last touches on the plates two sets of feet were running up the staircase. Jimin looked like he had been lured into the kitchen by some magical force, transfixed on the plates on the counter. He sniffed, making tiny happy noises.

“This smells so good. I’m hungry!” he whined.

Jungkook followed behind, taking a look at the plates and turning to you with pleading eyes. “When are we eating?”

You shook your head at their antics. “I just finished up, you can take them down if you want so stop looking at me like that.”

Jimin pouted, his shoulders raising. “Looking at you like what?”

“Stop that, I know what you’re doing.”

Jimin continued on, batting his eyelashes at you. “What am I doing? Am I not doing good?”

You pinched his cheek, making him giggle. “I thought you were hungry but apparently you aren’t hungry enough if you’re still here instead of taking the food down.” At that Jungkook was quick to take out the large trays and fill them with the plates and bowls.

Jimin went to help before pausing. “Where is Jinnie?”

Jin was always in the kitchen before meals, helping the two youngest carry the trays to the backyard. You didn’t want to worry Jimin, he was very sensitive to how others were feeling. His emotional walls were so thin that your blues and grays bled into his yellow. “He’s in his room resting, he’s feeling a little under the weather today.”

“But…How didn’t we notice anything?” Jimin asked.

You patted his shoulder. “I didn’t either until we were cooking lunch. He just needs to rest and he will be better in no time.” Jimin gazed at the food like it could give him the answers he was looking for, you continued. “The duck is his recipe, he only went to his room after the food was ready.” You didn’t mention how he had collapsed while cutting the lettuce, a knife in his hand and way too many grievous possibilities.

Jungkook picked up the nicest plate, you had made it last and having used the previous six ones as practice it had come out looking the best. “Can I take it to him?” It was well-known that he had a soft spot for Jin, sneaking into his room the nights he was running away chased by guilt. Jin had been the only one he had let in then. But again, they all had a soft spot for each other, it may translate differently into actions but it was the same at the core.

You pulled out a smaller bowl from the cupboard. Let me put some salad in this first.” This was one of the only salads everyone liked, even Jimin who was firmly against eating most greens (Namjoon didn’t like them much either but at least he was trying). You filled a glass with water as well and placed it on the smaller tray Jungkook had prepared. “Don’t wake him up if he’s sleeping, he looked really tired.”

“I’ll be quiet,” Jungkook promised picking up the tray and leaving for Jin’s room.

Jimin went back to arranging the plates on the trays. “He’ll be alright soon, right?”

“Of course he will,” you reassured him. “In no time he will be shouting at Jungkook for eating his ingredients and having fights with any insects that find their way to the garden. Now, let’s take these down because having the food right in front of me and not eating it is killing me.”

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Jin had a terrible headache, that’s where everything had started. He had woken up and instantly wanted to roll to his other side and fall asleep again covering his head with the blanket. His eyes refused to stay open and everything around him was like he was in a fog. His body wasn’t his own, it was like watching someone else execute each move he commanded, like he had lost parts of his senses. Everything was duller.

Powering through, he got up and made his bed, throwing the blankets over it with less precision than usual and arranging his stuffed animals against the pillows. It was your day off because of the gala and he had to make breakfast for you and the other hybrids.

It was enough that he got a few more hours of sleep as a result of the lack of your morning schedule. He could deal with the world being a little blurry at the edges and his body not cooperating every few minutes.

He made an easy breakfast for the day, which was a little disappointing when you were able to sit and enjoy it for once, but he was physically unable to do anything more. Sitting down would help. After breakfast, he would lay down on the couch and he would be better in no time.

Breakfast came and went and in a few hours, he had to start making lunch. Your offer to help was a godsend with his feet feeling like jelly. He thought he had it under control, that he could get through lunch then go to his room and hide under the covers where no one could see him. Until his legs gave up on him.

The knife slipped out of his hand and he watched its slow descent to the cutting board. In a blink he was on his knees, he blinked again and you were next to him helping him up. Hybrids weren’t supposed to get sick, scientists had engineered their whole being down to the color of their hair and eyes, they could strengthen their immune system as well. His past owners used to say that it was in his head because he was living with humans, that if he got sick the center must have given them a problematic hybrid and that couldn’t be true. He had paid a lot for Jin.

The door opened just enough for you to poke your head in. “Jin?” you whispered, quiet enough to not wake him up if he had been sleeping but loud enough for his hearing to pick up while awake. He lowered the blankets from his face. “Hey, did you finish with your food?”

“Yeah, it’s…” He pointed to the tray on the nightstand, he didn’t have enough strength to take it to the desk. You didn’t comment on the food that was left on the plates.

“Are you feeling any better?” you asked. His head still hurt and the heaviness of his body didn’t subside, but it was much better than when he had been standing so he nodded. “Do you need anything else? I brought some medicine if you want, I read that it’s alright for hybrids to take.” Despite the pain and the weariness of his body, he smiled at you and your research. The way you cared about them was endearing. You pulled out a packet from your back pocket.

“I think I’ll take one.” The constant drumming behind his temples and the back of his head was getting too much. It was so bad it wouldn’t let him sleep.

“I’ll go get some water for you.” You left the packet on the nightstand and picked up the tray with the leftovers.

Jin rolled to his back staring at the ceiling. He didn’t get sick often and he hated how his body was betraying him. You returned with a glass filled with water in one hand and a jug in the other.

“There you go,” you said handing him the glass. You opened the medicine packet and pressed a white tablet out. It was light in his palm, almost as if it wasn’t there. He put it in his mouth and washed it down with water. “You’ll feel better in no time.” You stroked his hair and he had to hold himself back from purring. Being sick he craved affection more than ever before.

“Don’t come too close, you’ll get sick too.”

You didn’t pull back. “Then I’ll have a reason to stay at home. It doesn’t sound so bad.” You tugged at the blanket. “Fancy some company?” Jin scooted to the side, letting you slip in next to him. Something inside him rejoiced at having you in his nest with him. It was ridiculous, having the need to nest was ridiculous, but he couldn’t suppress it. You turned around to face him, your head on a light blue pillow you had picked up from the pile. “Do you mind if I stay here for a bit?”

In the absence of words, he nodded his head. You took a deep breath and closed your eyes. You weren’t wearing makeup today in anticipation of the heavy makeup you would have to wear for the gala. The shadows under your eyes, concealed any other day, were threatening to spill over the rest of your face. The late nights had been many in the past few days, making up for the breaks you were taking. More and more he came to realize that work was your life and you were like a fish escaping water pushing it back.

You didn’t speak, basking in the silent company of each other. Jin let his worries go and, thanks to the medicine, his headache got duller until he couldn’t feel it. He didn’t notice when he fell asleep, waking up to voices.

“…feeling better, the medicine must have kicked in. His temperature has gone back to normal too,” you whispered.

“Okay, that’s good. Our Jinnie is strong,” the other voice said and heat traveled up to the top of Jin’s ears. The voice was unmistakably Namjoon’s and it was so warm Jin wanted to wrap it around himself and never let go. “I think we woke him up.”

“Oh no,” you complained, still whispering. “Jin?”

He opened his eyes, abandoning the comfort of the familiar darkness. You leaning on your forearm peering at him. His heart was beating faster.

“We woke you up, didn’t we?” you asked, looking guilty.

“It’s alright.” He could hear how rough his voice was from sleep. “What time is it?”

“Five,” you said.

He had been sleeping for more than three hours.

Namjoon took a step forward from the door. “I brought you some tea and biscuits,” he said, placing the tray on the now-empty nightstand.

Jin sat up on the bed with his back against the headboard. “Thank you. Can you…?” You picked up the steaming mug and handed it to him, holding it carefully so he wouldn’t burn himself. The plate of biscuits was placed on his lap over the blankets. It was a warm day but the air-conditioning was on in Jin’s room, the weight of the blankets over him promised safety and he didn’t want to be sweating from the heat.

“I’ll be going then,” Namjoon said with a small smile, the two of you exchanging a look.

“Wait.” Namjoon stopped in his tracks. Jin blamed his impulsiveness on the part of him that was controlled by the sugar-glider’s nature. Namjoon shouldn’t be leaving. Namjoon was pack and he should be with him when he wasn’t well, he should be taking care of Jin. One followed the other and it didn’t listen to logic. But he was tired and although the headache was gone, his head was still hazy, so he gave in. “Can you stay?”

The soft smile on Namjoon’s face was enough to wipe away any of his lingering doubts. “Of course I can.” Jin pulled up the blankets inviting him in. Namjoon pulled him closer bringing his forehead to his. The mug shook in Jin’s hold, you covered his hand with yours steading it. Jin realized it wasn’t only his hands shaking as Namjoon scented him tenderly. He felt so weak between the two of you.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩

The makeup artist asked you to close your eyes again to finish your eyeliner. Your makeup had to compliment your dress, like you were a model on the runway and your purpose was to sell the design. You had to admit that it looked beautiful so far, the gold eyeshadow and the dramatic eyeliner. She completed the look with a matte red lipstick while the hairstylist was releasing the last loose curl from the curling wand. You looked like someone out of a movie and tonight you would have to own that.

They helped you put on the dress like you were incapable of doing it on your own. In these cases, everything had to be perfect, including the most mundane of things. The jewelry was modest as not to take the attention away from the dress but enhance the look. A golden necklace with a ruby surrounded by tiny diamonds to decorate the skin the plunging neckline left bare, small diamond earrings, and golden bracelets.

Half an hour left before the gala and you were ready. The charm was arriving a little late so you had to wait before leaving. The stylists took their leave but you stayed at the fitting room/styling section of the closet, which was right under the actual master closet.

The dress fit you like a glove, bringing attention to all the right areas and burying any imperfections. It was the kind of Cinderella transformation the protagonists in older movies used to go through before getting the guy, but it happened all the time to you. A spy in an action movie, a confident heroine knowing how to use her looks, a girl going to a party to have fun and get drunk, that’s more along the lines of the characters you liked to imagine yourself as. You were far from being any of those characters but it was fun to daydream sometimes.

One last look in the mirror and you climbed up the spiral staircase to your closet, turning off the lights behind you. The designer you had met had been pleasant and your conversations hadn’t been awkward. If the rest of the guests, or at least the majority, were like him then the night could be fun.

The hybrids were all in the living room, even Hoseok and Yoongi. Yoongi wasn’t sitting far from them, in a separate sphere, but next to Jimin who was pointing at something in a book. They all looked at you when you came in, the back of the dress sweeping the floor behind you.

“How does it look?” you asked, doing a twirl. The response was delayed by a few moments.

Namjoon snapped out of it first, coming closer to you and taking your hand. “You look beautiful.” He leaned in for your neck before his face scrunched up in displeasure.

“What?” you asked.

He sniffed at the air. “You…”

“Oh, oh,” you said in realization. “It’s the perfume, it’s quite strong, isn’t it? It’s a Christmas gift from my mother, she said she really liked it so I thought I would wear it for her.”

Namjoon tamed his expression but the frown didn’t disappear. “It’s a little overwhelming. It overpowers everything else.” The perfume was too much for you too, it wasn’t surprising that it was too much for the keen noses of the hybrids. The perfume you wore day to day in spring was a lot lighter and you didn’t put on a lot. You had never stopped to think about how perfumes would affect the hybrids.

“I’ll be sure to not wear it again then,” you said, giving his hand a squeeze.

“That isn’t what I meant.” Namjoon scratched the back of his neck. “You can wear it if you like it. It’s just a little much.”

“Well,” you looked at him and the other hybrids conspiratorially, “it isn’t my favorite, either, and if it affects you like that why would I keep wearing it?” Namjoon’s face smoothed out and you noticed Hoseok looking at you with amazement.

You opened the leather clutch and put in your phone and your keys. Your lipstick and powder were already inside along with a pack of tissues. It didn’t fit any more things.

“I’ll be going now. I’m fashionably late enough.” Before going, Jungkook and Jimin kissed you on each cheek careful not to ruin your makeup. Jin had fallen asleep again and none of you were willing to wake him up.

The night could become difficult so you ignored Yoongi’s eyes on you. You didn’t need any more people judging you.

A limousine was waiting for you outside, limousines were practically part of the dress code in these events. John wasn’t with you this time, you had given him the night off. These kinds of events starred in his nightmares, standing in the corner all night not saying a word. That’s how they kept up the illusion. Regardless of how many times you told him you didn’t care about it, he would follow what was expected of him.

The bright lights blinded you when you arrived. Everyone seemed to want to take a look at you. Your heels sunk into the red carpet at the entrance hall, large paintings in golden frames hanging from the walls. You were led up a grand staircase to the hall the gala was taking place. And so the night began…

You listened through speeches about fashion and the vision of the fashion industry and each individual designer. A few parts were quite interesting, but most of them failed to do anything more than repeat the same old ideas again and again. However, the champagne did make everything a little more tolerable. Your mother had been very happy to see you there and she had told you at least three times how beautiful you were. Your father smiled at you, a smile that looked way too political to be for his daughter, the same smile he would put on when greeting the president.

After the speeches were finished, your mother linked your elbows. It was time for the introductions. You put on your camera smile and shook more hands than you ever did at work. The compliments on your work were many, which ones were genuine was a mystery. But it did feel good when the daughter of one of your father’s associates told you how much she loved the finale of season 4 of Paper Hearts and asked you about Six of Crows.

You said goodbye to an older couple and your mother led you to the buffet. A sculpture of a man pinning fabrics on a mannequin stood proudly in the middle, surrounded by plates of food so perfect that it looked more fake than the decorative food pieces you used on set.

Your mother took another flute of champagne from a waiter. “Mr. Jones will be retiring soon but his son doesn’t want to take over the company. It causes a lot of family drama. I heard they only exchange a few words when they meet but Mr. Jones isn’t backing down.” You had no idea what company they had or who their son was but you nodded. “Ah, I wanted to ask you. You didn’t say anything about adopting hybrids.”

Your hand stilled before you could taste the hors d' oeuvres that looked like a sandwich but was too fancy to call it that. “Hybrids?” you repeated.

“I didn’t know you were interested in them,” your mother continued, unaware of how tense you had become. “Certainly not interested enough to adopt four. Are you making a collection?” She laughed at her joke but you only felt ill.

“No, I wouldn’t say that.” You took a bite of the food, trying to swallow it down. You had lost your appetite.

Your mother sipped on her champagne. “That would be a unique one, it could be showcased.” The churning in your stomach got worse. You left the piece that looked like a sandwich aside.

“How did you learn of it?”

“Don’t you read any magazines? It was front-page news.” You had expected that the information would be published sooner or later, you hadn’t been exactly hiding it, but sooner or later was in the future not now. “You should have told me, I would have looked for some high-quality places to buy them from. There are some very beautiful exotic pieces I have seen. Mrs. Anderson, do you remember her? She couldn’t make it this time but she was at the charity event last September.” You didn’t remember her but you nodded again. “She has such a cute chinchilla hybrid and he’s so well-trained too. I hope yours were trained well, I heard it’s difficult to train them yourself. Where did you adopt them from?”

You swallowed down the lump in your throat. “An adoption center in Los Angeles,” you lied easily. Spending hours and hours every day with actors, instructing them about how each scene would seem more natural, you had picked up a few tricks. “I just really liked them and they were already a pack, I didn’t want to break them up.”

Your mother arched a single perfectly-drawn eyebrow, a skill you had sadly not inherited. “A pack? Does that actually exist? Dear, the center must have been trying to give you four hybrids instead of one. Pack,” she tried out the word and she didn’t particularly like the results. “That certainly sounds like some kind of con. What are they? Are all of them wolves?”

“No, they aren’t all wolves. And it was three hybrids, I adopted the other one later from Tennessee with Taylor.”

Taylor’s name brought a spark to your mother. “Oh, how is Taylor? Such a sweet girl, I should have invited her. I will next time.” Your mother had met Taylor exactly once during one of the few of your movie premieres she had actually attended. “Which one did you adopt from there?”

You gritted your teeth, debating how much information was wise to give your mother. “Jin, he’s a sugar glider hybrid.”

That seemed to please her. “Sugar glider? That sounds fancy. I would like to see him up close.” Like you would ever allow that to happen. “He must be a rare breed.”

“He is.”

“Of course, I should have expected that my daughter would decide on a rare breed,” she said as if she was congratulating herself. “I insist you bring him to the next event. I was never that interested in hybrids, too much work, but one would look good in photos.”

“Yeah, I guess he would.” You took a deep breath, it wasn’t the time to throw a tantrum like you were five years old again or puke all over your expensive dress and shoes.

The expression on your mother’s face grew somber. “But four hybrids are a lot, I don’t think I know anyone who owns that many.” She twirled the flute in her hand, waves of the golden liquor hitting the glass and bubbles rising to the surface. “After what happened with Jacob I understand you have been feeling lonely, but hybrids aren’t good substitutes for human company, dear. You can’t rely on them as you relied on him or another man.”

A waiter offered you a glass of champagne from a golden tray. You couldn’t drink too much and risk your tongue loosening but you could allow yourself one more glass to get through this. “I’m not trying to replace him. They aren’t some kind of rebound.”

By her pinched expression, she didn’t believe you. “It’s alright to look for company somewhere else when you feel lonely. I don’t want you to think I’m judging your choices, you are an adult and free to make your own decisions but I’m your mother and I’m worried. You and Jacob were together for so long, we were sure he was the one for you. He was so nice and he took care of you. Your father and I were so happy for you.”

“Not all good relationships last. People change, they grow apart.”

“That’s true. It’s difficult getting out of a relationship after being together for so many years and getting back to your feet. That’s why I understand. I understand that you don’t want to be alone right now but don’t put all of your energy into hybrids. It just isn’t the same. Whatever some people like to say, hybrids are hybrids. They are different from us, they are on a different level. You can’t have the same connection with someone you own.”

Her words continued ringing in your mind for the rest of the night. Your father soon called you to introduce you to one of his colleagues, a successful businessman and politician you had never heard of. The glass of champagne was replaced by another one. You promised yourself it was the last. The owner of a luxurious brand talked with your mother about his plan to expand to more countries and the rehearsed and repeated vision to connect the world through fashion.

You peered at the other guests, all mingling, talking, and laughing. A man only a few feet away from you slapped a girl’s ass. You couldn’t believe your eyes, stuff like that didn’t happen at an event like this. You expected a scene, shouting and screaming and everything in between. Nothing happened. The man that had his arm around her waist only laughed. That’s when you noticed the black fluffy ears on top of her head, they were the same color as her hair and easy to miss. She didn’t have a tail. A silver collar with blue stones the same shade as her dress was secured around her neck. Her shoulders were tense and her head lowered.

In any other situation, any other time, you would have done something. You would have walked up to them and said something, anything you could think of on the spot, even talked to her, made a few minutes more tolerable. You did none of those things. Your parents were there and you had avoided embarrassing them all your life.

The guilt was eating you up, wrapping around all your organs and squeezing, hissing, and calling for your attention, not letting you forget. You had done nothing. If someone had touched your hybrids like that you would have cut their hands off. But that hadn’t been your hybrid, it hadn’t been your place. It hadn’t been your place like it hadn’t been your place to adopt Jin and go against his owner, like it hadn’t been your place to get involved with Namjoon’s pack or Yoongi and Hoseok for that matter. Maybe you had been tricking yourself all along, hiding your selfishness and fear behind the pretense of “not my place”.

Your mother was wrong, you hadn’t been looking for company when you and Jacob broke up. On the contrary, you disregarded everything except work, distancing yourself from all of your friends. It was easy with how busy you were at the time. You would have continued hiding in the Castle and spent your break alone if you hadn’t asked John to stop the car that night. They were what you didn’t know you needed. You had to stop being alone first to realize how lonely you had been.

You couldn’t go back to living like that, waking up and returning to an empty house, having no warm meal and warmer hugs waiting for you. That’s what your life had been like for the longest time and you wondered how you used to live like that. The hybrids were so tangled up in your life you couldn’t find where each thread ended or started. They merged and divided, connecting you all in ways you couldn’t describe.

Taylor had asked you about any crushes when you had been in Virginia, everyone was expecting you to find a new boyfriend after six months or at least start dating but you couldn’t bring yourself to do that. No one had piqued your interest and it wasn’t for lack of meeting new people. It would feel wrong going on a date with someone when the hybrids were waiting for you back home. And that’s where the problem was; it shouldn’t feel wrong. Many people who had hybrids went on dates, couples adopted hybrids together and it should be like that for you. But it wasn’t.

Overthinking was one of your talents and you had avoided like you were being chased by wild dogs. You weren’t one to simply go with the flow but Namjoon’s lips on your own had changed your mind. You were too afraid of losing that that you hadn’t allowed yourself to analyze what you were doing, what that meant for you. Namjoon was your hybrid, you may not act like it or think of him like that but you were his owner in the papers. And it wasn’t only Namjoon, the way you cared about the hybrids was different from the way you felt about anyone else. It was all-consuming and too bright. You felt more for them than you had ever felt about Jacob and that was dangerous.

You excused yourself from the event as soon as it was proper for you to do so. Tomorrow morning you had to wake up early for work and you couldn’t stay late into the night. It was true but not the reason you left. Your mother hugged you and thanked you for coming, inviting you once again to their house in New York. She had been inviting you every time you met and you hadn’t once been to their house.

The window of the limousine was cold against your cheek, your foundation staining the glass. Maybe your mother wasn’t that wrong. You didn’t dare put a name to your feelings but you couldn’t deny that they were there. Were you really that lonely that your mind was playing tricks on you? Groaning, you knocked your head against the glass, hard enough to hear a small thud. You shouldn’t be thinking of them like that, it was wrong, so wrong.

Was it the way the world viewed hybrids messing with you, bleeding into your subconscious? They were presented as the answer to any and all desires, transformed into wet dreams. The media had the power to influence behaviors and thoughts little by little without the person noticing. You had thought you were too clever to fall victim to their molded reality. You knocked your head against the glass again, the driver must have been thinking you were crazy.

The limousine parked in front of the Castle. On other nights the lights would have been turned off by now but tonight they were all shinning, welcoming you home. You fished your keys out of your bag and unlocked the door. The lights were on in the living room in the lowest setting.

“Welcome.” You jumped, almost tumbling to the floor at being startled while taking off your heels.

“Every. Single. Time.” Namjoon laughed quietly. “How do you do this every single time?”

“I was already here, I couldn’t make any more noise.” He got up from the couch, extending a hand to you. You took it and he guided you to the couch. “Did you have a good time?”

The dress wrinkled as you pulled one foot under you but you couldn’t care less. “It was… bearable. I didn’t-” You let your head fall on the back of the couch. Seeing Namjoon up close after the night you had, looking at you with soft eyes like you held the sky in the palm of your hand, everything was coming back. What were you doing here? Your heart shouldn’t be racing like that when you were thinking about the wolf hybrid, your hands shouldn’t be itching to touch him.

“You’re here now, you can relax,” he said trailing his hand from your arm to your shoulder and up your neck. Goosebumps raised on your bare skin. “You’re home.” His breath tickled your face, his lips were so close and you wanted, you wanted… You pushed him back.

“I should go take off my makeup. I’m exhausted.”

Namjoon frowned but he didn’t question you. “Okay,” he said softly. “Your bed must be calling your name.”

“It is,” you said slipping away from him. The absence of his touch left a void inside you. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

You went to your room with a heavy heart, leaving Namjoon alone in the living room.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩

You found the offending magazine in a store close to the studios. Copies of it filled a whole stand. The cover was a photo of you with Jin and Jimin in front of the waffle place the day you had taken them with you to the table-reading. It really was front-page news.

In A Stunning Display of Power And Wealth Y/N Y/L/N Adopts Four Hybrids

Straight to the point, every word chosen precisely to attract attention. A display of power and wealth. Of course, that’s what sold copies. That’s what people wanted to read; how one of the richest and most famous directors of your generation was showing off their wealth and power. Hybrids continued to be a sign of money. To adopt four hybrids meant you were crazy rich, but people already knew that when similar headlines had swept all tabloids just a year ago, brought on by the outrageous purchase of the Castle.

Four pages were dedicated to you and your hybrids, completed with more photos of the same day and quotes from “insider sources”. You closed the magazine and went to the counter. The cashier scanned it without glancing at your face, which saved you some trouble. You almost thought you would have to re-enact the comedic scene of the cashier looking at the magazine, then at you, then back at the magazine, then back at you like a robot that had stopped working. You shoved the magazine in your bag, self-conscious of anyone seeing it on you, and went back to the studios.

Filming would begin very soon, which meant you were swamped with work. Everything had to be perfect because that’s the kind of director you were. A perfectionist. If it also gave you an excuse not to think about the hybrids and all of the implications of the flutter of your heart when you were with them, you weren’t complaining. And if you were a little more distant, that could easily be attributed to your work too.

Sleepless nights became too common, your head was too loud and Jimin laying next to you only made it louder.

Filming started and your schedule changed. Most days you still woke up early and returned late at night, but because each scene required a specific time of the day there were nights you came back hours after midnight. You had promised the hybrids you would take them with you on set but every morning you got in the car alone.

Fourth day of filming and unexpected rain forced you to cancel the outside shooting. You only had outside filming that day. You rushed to make adjustments and switch to scenes that could be filmed inside the studios. The crew would need time to prepare everything for the filming so you had been left with the morning off.

You unlocked the door, hiding inside the house from the rain. It hadn’t rained like that in a long time. The heavens had opened up and the rain refused to stop coming down like it was determined to turn Los Angeles into a gigantic lake. Your shoes left puddles wherever you stepped, you would have to mop the floors later. You took them off and placed them by the door. They had suffered the most, the rest of yourself was relatively dry with the exception of the lower part of your pants.

No one was attacking you with hugs as you closed the umbrella someone from the staff had handed you, the hybrids mustn’t have heard you coming in. If they had heard you, you would have had an armful of Jimin and Jungkook by now.

“Oh, hey Yoongi,” you greeted the panther hybrid coming out of the kitchen. Your tactic with Yoongi was to act like you were talking to someone who didn’t strongly dislike you. The scowls and the sneers had decreased turning into a plastic sort of indifference and that’s what made you pause. His scowl could cut you like a knife. “Are you alright?”

Yoongi stalked past you. “What are doing back?” he asked harshly.

You were taken aback for a moment. He hadn’t spoken like that to you since before you had left for Virginia. “I have the morning off because of the rain. Did something happen here?”

“Why do you care?” Yoongi stood by the staircase, his black tail unmoving behind him.

“Why would I not care?” you shot back. The rain had already ruined your plans for the day and caused you enough stress to last you for a few more, you didn’t have enough energy to deal with Yoongi. “Seriously, what happened? Is Hoseok alright?”

A low growl vibrated through the room, you almost took a step back at the threatening sound. “Don’t you speak his name. Was caring for him another way to make you feel powerful? Is this some kind of sick way for you to gain power over someone?”

You were too tired to handle this delicately as you should, you recognized that and proceeded to ignore it. “What the hell is this about? I just came back from work.”

Yoongi scoffed, it was an ugly sound. “Because you have brainwashed everyone else, don’t think I don’t see you for who you are. Have you sold our story yet? About how you saved Hoseok and nursed him back to health? I am sure that will sell many magazines. Show them all how all-powerful you are.”

Through the haze of the day, the words started to click. “You found the magazine.”

“You didn’t try to hide it.” You couldn’t remember where you had left it, it had probably ended up in the stack of magazines under the living room table. “I knew no one would take four hybrids in out of the goodness of their hearts. Did it work? Was it worth it or are you already getting bored? Maybe you should adopt a couple more. Make more headlines.”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” you gritted out.

“That’s what you’d like to think,” Yoongi sneered. “All of you are the same. Hiding in your mansions and looking for the next chance to brandish your name. It’s a constant chase of power and standing, isn’t it? And you’ll use anyone you’ll find in your way to climb higher. I know how it is. You can’t fool me. I’ve been dealing with people like you for years!”

Your pants and your wet socks were sticking uncomfortably to your skin. Your head was buzzing. It hurt because that’s everything you had been trying to avoid. Everything you had promised yourself not to become. Everything you had criticized your parents and their circle for. You weren’t like them. You had never been like them.

“You don’t know me, don’t pretend you do,” you said forcefully. “Do you really think that’s how magazines work? I just call them and tell them I want them to write about me? Put me on the front cover? That’s not it. Even if it was, why would I do that? I couldn’t care less about the power-plays you’re talking about. I’m a director and my work speaks for itself. I don’t need magazines to brandish my name because my movies and my shows are more than enough. The paparazzi saw the chance and they took it. Their goal is to sell and their headlines showcase exactly that; what people would buy. I never hid the fact that I adopted hybrids but I wasn’t flaunting it to the media either.”

“Why should I believe you?” Yoongi growled.

You sighed, a sound full of frustration. “Frankly, I don’t see what else I could do to make you believe me! I tended to Hoseok. I didn’t ask any questions. I tried hard not to cross any boundaries and to make you feel welcome. What more do you want me to do?”

“Nothing,” Yoongi said simply. “Nothing you do can change my mind.”

It was like a stone dropped in the pit of your stomach. You shouldn’t have expected anything else. Yoongi had been through a lot, that much was clear, but it was unfair that he was taking out everything on you. You were paying for the scars other humans had inflicted on him.

“I’m not who you think I am.”

“You don’t know what I think.”

“It’s pretty clear,” you muttered. “Alright, I can’t change your mind, I won’t even try. I know how to pick my battles. But if you really despise me so much then why bother? Nothing you say will change anything. Are you trying to uncover some hidden truth about me and how evil I am? Then what?”

The fur on Yoongi’s tail and ears stood on end. “I don’t care. I don’t care about you, about what you have done and what you will do as long as we’re gone from here. I don’t care for your charity or your pity. Did it ever occur to you that I never wanted to be here in the first place?”

You swallowed, willing your heart rate to calm down. “Then tell Hoseok and Jimin yourself. The keys are by the door.”

You didn’t wait for Yoongi to say anything else, turning around and locking yourself in your room. You laid down on your bed, your hands gripping your hair. The exhaustion this time was beyond physical, beyond mental. Your hands retreated from your hair, sliding down your cheeks. Your fingers were wet.

Later when Jimin and Jungkook knocked on the door, you had to open the door or risk worrying them. They jumped on the bed and snuggled close to you. You held your phone waiting for the call to go to the studios.

You didn’t face any new problems with filming. The actors were all incredible, seemingly one with their characters. You did a lot of filming at 300 Fox Way, the psychic’s house with its mystic aura and weirdly compelling assortment of objects. You instructed the actors, talked with the crew, and analyzed the script down to each comma. Focusing on anything other than Yoongi’s words and your hybrids had turned into an art form.

The sleepless nights didn’t cease, you and the moonlight had become good friends. Jimin’s visits to your room thinned out. He had noticed you pulling away. You didn’t hug him anymore or kissed his forehead before falling asleep, you couldn’t come to terms with doing that after everything that had happened. You had thought that maybe you would sleep better alone but that had been proved false soon after.

You got out of bed for the fourth night in a row. Every position was uncomfortable. Keeping your steps light you left the room. The large house was eerie at night, the living room area with its glass walls looked endless, combining the actual living room, the dining room, and what the real estate agents had called the family room that was really just another living room.

You couldn’t stay in your room on nights like these, it was too contained. The night air on your skin sent shivers down your frame as you walked out on the balcony. It was two days before the full moon and its glow illuminated the world.

What had you gotten yourself into? You wished you could go back to that morning and decline your mother’s invitation to the gala. Maybe, just maybe, then you would be able to sleep, your head wouldn’t be fighting you at every turn, at every chance.

Little pieces of moonlight shimmered and danced on the lake. The calmness of the world was a stark contrast to the mess in your head. You remembered how Jungkook had looked at the lake in awe that very first night, you had noticed then that he looked at Jimin the same way. You wondered how you looked at them and if anyone had noticed.

The moon had no answers for you.

Two golden eyes were looking up at you from the garden, they shone like the fires that had been extinguished earlier. Namjoon tilted his head, inviting you down. A weird sense of deja vu took over. You had lived something very similar before, a night that had changed so much.

You shouldn’t go. You should stay where you were, alone and safe, away from fluttering heartbeats and dangerous warmth. But the night had its way of calling out the risky nature of people. The thrill was so much more enticing when darkness ruled.

Climbing down the stairs, you kept your steps quiet. You never knew which sound would wake up the hybrids. Namjoon was standing by the flower bushes close to the curtain of vines that lead into the forest. He was wearing a dark blue pair of pajama pants and a simple black T-shirt.

“What are you doing awake so late?” you whispered, like everything around you had ears.

“I could ask you the same thing.”

You shook your head. “I have trouble sleeping, remember?”

Namjoon had caught you a few times wandering the house at night, he was the only one who knew that a lot of nights sleep didn’t come to you willingly. His own nightly adventures were more complicated.

“Why are you awake?” you asked him again. “Please don’t tell me you smelled distress or something again or I’ll freak.”

Namjoon chuckled, you had missed it. Keeping your distance meant you only saw them for barely two hours every day. They all tried to not make too much noise with you in the constant mood of ‘tired and gloomy’.

“No, that’s not it.” He looked up, over the trees. “It’s the full moon.”

“You have to be kidding me. Do you turn into a wolf too?”

Namjoon raised his hands in surrender, his dimples on full display. “I’m joking, I’m joking. I couldn’t sleep either and I like being outside at night like this. It’s peaceful.”

You couldn’t disagree with that. There was something alluring about the quiet of the night. You would describe yourself more as a morning person than a night owl but both of them were true, waking up early for work then staying up late for it too.

“Are you alright?” The smile had fallen from his lips.

You squirmed under the intensity of his gaze. “I’m just tired, that’s all. Filming takes a lot out of me.”

Namjoon sighed. “Are you sure that’s all there is? You have been acting differently, did you think we wouldn’t notice?”

You knew they would notice but you had hoped they would think it was because of your work. Work did take a lot out of you but it also used to be the reason you were so much happier returning home.

“It has been going on for too long. You don’t spend any time outside your room or your office if it isn’t to eat. You are avoiding us. Jimin and Jungkook stopped scenting you because they think they’re making you uncomfortable.”

“It isn’t- They aren’t making me uncomfortable. I’m just tired from work and I don’t-” you tried to deny it but you fell short of excuses.

“You were working before too, but it wasn’t like this,” he pointed out. “You were tired then too. Some nights you came back and I could smell the exhaustion around you like a disease. But you smiled when Jimin and Jungkook ran up to you and didn’t let you go, you laughed at Jin laughing at his own jokes. You came to me when it got too loud here.” He pointed to your head.

“We weren’t filming then.” It was a weak attempt but you had to make it.

Namjoon regarded you carefully. Beams of moonlight got tangled in his gray hair turning it silver. He looked at home right there at that moment, close to the trees with the moon shining on him. He was every bit of magic you had ever witnessed.

“This started before filming did. I knew there was something wrong when you came back from the gala. Something happened there,” Namjoon concluded. “I should have come with you.”

You shook your head vigorously. Imagining him next to you while your mother spoke about hybrids like that was torture. “No, you shouldn’t. You shouldn’t have been with me.” You paused to compose yourself. “It wasn’t good, it was really bad actually. It wasn’t the gala itself, there some interesting people and… My mother…” You took a deep breath. “I don’t think I like my parents very much,” you admitted.

It was hard to say after years of half-hearted attempts at mending your relationship with them. All those years apart you had become very different people. You had trouble remembering what they were like before they left you in your aunt’s care. You couldn’t see any traces of them in yourself, you didn’t enjoy what they enjoyed, your interests and priorities, the way you viewed the world were very different.

In the past few days, you had grown to hate your mother’s voice in your head but you had a feeling that it had been much longer than that. The only difference was that before, you had been able to ignore it.

Namjoon came closer, his hand touching your palm waiting for you to make the first move. You took his hand in yours, laying your head on his chest. “That’s alright. You don’t have to like them, no one is forcing you to.”

“But they are my parents.”

He stroked your back gently. “It doesn’t matter, that isn’t enough of a reason.”

“They aren’t bad people.”

“They don’t need to be bad people for you to dislike them.”

You stayed like that for a few moments, taking in his presence. You had missed being in his arms so much, like an ache that couldn’t go away.

He stopped stroking your back, cupping your cheek and pulling back so you were facing each other. “I’m always here for you. I don’t care about anything else but seeing you happy. I’m here.”

“I missed you,” you admitted like it was a secret.

Namjoon smiled softly. “I missed you too.” His thumb caressed your lower lip. There was a tingling sensation all over your skin. “Can I?” he asked just like the very first time.

You let out a shuddering breath. “Should we be doing this?”

“Do you want to?” he asked carefully.

You bit your lip before nodding. He leaned down connecting your lips. It was soft and careful, all the longing and hurt of the past days poured into the kiss. You pulled him closer and he came willingly. You could hear your heartbeat in your ears.

An awful laugh cut through the night. You pulled away from Namjoon like you had been burnt. Yoongi was one with the night, dark like a shadow.

“So this is it? Is this why you adopted them all? So you can have your pick when you’re in the mood?” The expression on his face was cruel, twisted up in disgust.

Namjoon growled, his sharp canines shinning in the moonlight. In that moment, Namjoon looked more dangerous than ever before. “Shut your mouth.”

“I see she has turned you into her dog. How long did it take to tame you?”

You held Namjoon back before he could lunge at the panther. You were afraid that if you let him go, there would blood on their clothes. “Don’t.”

Yoongi took a tense step forward. “That’s right, listen to your owner. Is that what she has turned all of you into? Her toys? Just for a roof over your head and food?”

“Shut the fuck up,” Namjoon growled. “Don’t you dare talk about her like that. You have no fucking idea what you’re talking about.”

Yoongi clenched his fists. There was anger and something else you couldn’t see in the night amidst your panic. “I knew it. I knew no one did what you did without any kind of agenda. Seems like the magazine was right, at least in part. You can’t fool me, even if you managed to fool everyone else.”

With that he was gone, like he was never there.

You couldn’t breathe. Your hand was still wrapped around Namjoon’s wrist and you couldn’t breathe. You counted in your head. One, two, three…

When Namjoon tried to touch your shoulder, you pulled away. “I’m going back to my room,” you said. Your voice sounded shaky to your own ears. Namjoon called out to you but you didn’t stop. He didn’t try to touch you again.

Please comment and reblog it motivates me to keep writing

#btscreatorscorner #castlebangtan #bts #bts hybrid au #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #jimin x reader #namjoon x reader #seokjin x reader #yoongi x reader #hoseok x reader #taehyung x reader #poly!bts #poly!bts x reader #bts poly au #bts fanfic #bts scenarios #bts angst #bts hurt/comfort

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ballorawan740 · 3 years

Text

SCP Scenarios: SCP x Reader - McDonald's Sprite (REQUESTED)

Requested by: @katnotmore123

Bro y'all be simping for Sprite and I'm here simping for 7Up...

I mean I like them both but I just prefer 7up over Sprite... It's like comparing Pepsi and Coke ngl but with a more subtle difference

SCP 073 (Cain)

You came back to the foundation one day with a cup of iced drink and Cain had asked what you were drinking and you showed him

He was mildly confused but soon understood the beverage since he had seen them somewhere on the web (no, not the hub, an advert from McDonald's)

You asked if he wanted to try some and he did, so you gave him a sip

You were slightly annoyed and surprised since you drove over an hour and hadn't had anything to drink and the last thing you wanted was someone taking your drink

But since it was 073, you made it an exception since you hadn't expected him to have any food or beverages outside of site 17

You figured that he had enjoyed it as he reminisced his past about being able to eat plant-based food but no longer could

You felt bad and agreed to get more when you next go back

The researchers had wondered if the drink had ever rotted in his mouth but realise moments later that it's mainly made out of artificial ingredients aside from the natural flavourings

SCP 076-2 (Abel)

I have high doubts that you would be able to persuade Abel to drink such a plain beverage, so you had devised a plan to get him to try

You made a bet with Abel in which the loser has to finish off the drink, not that you'd complain (you unhealthy mf), but you really wanted him to give it a try

Abel accepted and had very much lost the bet

He had taken a sip and you noticed that he's enjoying the drink and teased him

He spat it out and flat out denied it (like the tsundere he is) but continued drinking it anyways

Some of the researchers monitoring Abel's cell found it rather amusing that he enjoyed such a "plain beverage" and did try to tease him about it

Let's just say it didn't end very well as it resulted in somebody's head being chopped off

You both had agreed that if Abel stops trying to breach his containment and be more cooperative, you or somebody else in your team would buy him more Sprite from McDonald's (and by 'buy', I mean kidnapping the whole chain's Sprite dispenser)

SCP 999 (Tickle Monster)

999 would most definitely take the drink out of your hand since his little tingles tell him that whatever you were drinking was sweet

And he was very much right

You were slightly shocked but wasn't surprised since he does have quite a sweet tooth

Every now and again, SCP 999 would ask if you had any more of those drinks and would even ask what they were

You had explained to him that it's a lemon and line flavoured soft drink created by the Coca-Cola company (the more you know right?)

He was intrigued and sweetly requested if you could buy him more and you obliged

You would use your time off to buy a dozen of Sprites from McDonald's and would sometimes buy other soft drinks like Coke and Fanta for 999

Needless to say, you had an orange blob as your personal pet who would give you unlimited hugs since you spoiled him with so many drinks

SCP 682 (Hard to Destroy Reptile)

This mf of a lizard right here is just as stubborn, if not even more than Abel, and would reject trying that beverage at all for the whole entire week

You had to bribe him and the researchers were laughing their socks off from this interaction you both got going

He did give in but was rather hesitant at first

Once you poured some into his mouth, he seemed slightly disgusted from the taste

He would just sit still for a moment as to contemplate then stuck his tongue out as a sign of disgust

But bring the cheeky person you were, you spilt more into his mouth which led to him farting for the next few hours to which everyone laughed

Dr Bright heard the commotion and came to see what was happening

Let's just say he encouraged you to carry on if you want your head cut off but found it amusing regardless

In short, don't ever give him Sprite unless you want to torture him

SCP 049 (Plague Doctor)

Does this bird doctor even drink?!

You mention multiple times about human food and how delicious they are

Mainly McDonald's Sprite and their food since its rather popular

ESPECIALLY THEIR CHEESE BITES/STICKS!!! HAVE YALL EVEN TRIED THEM!? THEY'RE DELICIOUS AF!!!

OMG they've released the garlic ones but I preferred the normal Mozzarella sticks and cheesy bites though

Anyways, back to Sprite, our side chick

049 would be intrigued about this 'Sprite' since you spoke so passionately about it like your life depended on it and requested you to get him one for a try and so you did

When he drank it he was surprised at the foreign taste

He asked if there were more beverages like it and you answered honestly, carrying on with your love for McDonald's and offered to buy him some for a try

Basically, 049 would give it a try since you spoke so passionately for them

He wouldn't necessarily hate it, but he wouldn't love the drink as much

I'd say he would be intrigued to try something new outside of his role in curing the pestilence

SCP 035 (Possessive Mask)

I am so sorry guys, I'll have to make 035 hella short since I can't think of anything interesting for him

DO YALL THINK THIS BOI CAN EVEN TRY?! JUST LOOK AT HIM!!! HE'S A BLOODY MASK!!!

The closest thing for him to try the drink is if you gave his now possessed body some beforehand so 035 could telepathically understand the taste

Like if you just straight up gave him the drink I don't think he would be able to drink it even if he wanted to

If the now dead body never had Sprite, then you ould just describe the tase to him in form of arts (I like to imagine 035 would be into arts, especially performing arts since he's basically a theatre mask)

SCP 105 (Iris)

Our girl here has a high chance that she might have tried McDonald's Sprite

But she just prefers healthier foods (this healthy mf knows that y'all can't keep healthy, that's why she's here to start your New Year's Resolution which is to stay healthy)

You both would recommend food which is healthy or unhealthy and would try them

Iris is more than capable of controlling her diet, but you, on the other hand, have a hard time doing so (don't lie, we all know y'all like junk food)

So, you both compromised in which you can have junk food as a reward, namely your favourite beverage, Sprite

You just love the citrus flavoured, colourless beverage so much that Iris would have to hide the drink from you (ah yes great promotion from me XD)

What would you do without our girl, Iris, eh? (Die from overeating unhealthy food which causes heart attacks and strokes, of course, fun!)

Anyways, sometimes when you're the one going out, you would be the one to buy a few dozen bottles of Sprite from McDonald's (bro do they even sell bottled drinks? Ik they do in KFC from where I live OwO)

Iris would drop dead from the sight of you bringing in so many Sprites into the foundation

She would most likely drink some with you, not because she likes them, god no

It's because there's no more room to store them and she's just a little bit thirsty

SCP 106 (Old Man)

This old man would be so confused by all this food and drinks from the outside world

His first impression of McDonald's was that of a circus since you've shown him the older advertisement for McDonald's since it fits his age (love you 106!!! Not)

And then you gave him a menu, and god did he not have any glasses (boi he do be needing to go to Specsavers fr)

He read Mozzarella Sticks as mosasaurs pricks, the Spicy Veggie One as spicy vag- and what's worse is that he read Double Quater Pounder as double quantum pounding (he even read Coke wrong!)

You and the foundation staff burst out of laughter at his 20/20 eyesight

So one day, you returned to the foundation with some Sprite in your hands in hopes that 106 would give it a go and so he did

He found the flavour somewhat new and strange but still enjoyed it nevertheless (this boi here do be a man of culture, am I right?)

Anyways, 106 loved it so much to the point that during one of the breaches, he disappeared from the foundation and reappeared with 10 boxes of Sprite

The researchers then realised afterwards that 106 had used his pocket dimension to teleport to the nearest McDonald's and stole the boxes of Sprite without even paying

They were even more surprised to find that the workers there were ordinary humans and weren't even fazed about 106 teleporting to their business (Sames here bro! If anyone stole my food/drinks I'd be pissed too regardless of who it is!!! Food is food!!!)

You basically made him addicted to Sprite

SCP 096 (Shy Guy)

(Imma be honest here, idk if this guy eats since he's facing the wall and covering his face like 99% of the time unless some guy saw his face)

You were sat in 096's cell and was debating on what food to get from McDonald's

096 was curious about what you're talking about since he heard you mumbling bout food from this so-called "McDonald's"

So you explained to him the concept of food and that generally speaking, unhealthy foods are tastier and typically served quicker in at places like McDonald's

Imma be real here, I like Burger King's chilli cheese bites a tiny bit more since the McDonald's at my place is stuck with garlic cheese bites atm

It's not like I hate them, but I just prefer the old ones, but it's nice that McDonald's changes up their food every now and then

Anyways, back onto our side chick

You bought your favourite Sprite along with the double quantum pou- quarter pounder

096 was upon curious and so you let him have a bite of your quarter pounder and your Sprite

Let's just say that 096 found it weird and didn't ask about human food again

Dr Jack bright

Jack Bright is very much aware of McDonald's and other fast-food chains since he does have a fair share of memories of eating them with his family and because the bodies he possesses do be unhealthy af (just like you)

You were talking about food with one of your co-workers and Bright just so happened to be nearby and butted his head into the conversation

Your co-worker also just happened to leave for a meeting so you're both stuck together talking about McDonald's

Sometime later, you bought to the foundation some food, including Jack's favourites as he had mentioned not long ago

You both tried each other's food and he was mesmerised by the Sprite since it's been a while since he had it

So whenever you went back, you would buy a larger bottle of Sprite for Jack since he wouldn't have much free time and needed to drink more anyways

Sometimes, when you're both talking about food, you'd make up puns for them or just laugh at your misinterpretations since you're just as blind as a bat (btw I've read somewhere that bats have good vision, they just use echolocation a lot)

Some of the things you both would say would be "Did you hear that McDonald's gave all their employees large laptops for Christmas? They were Big Macs" and "Hey, Ronald McDonald - been watching any good clown movies? Ronald: I'm loving it"

One time, he smacked your bum and casually said to you "Girl, this quarter-pounder will take you to a whole different level of experience" and then left

Dr Simon Glass

Another doctor who has knowledge of fast foods

He's similar to Bright in a way as he doesn't leave the facility as often as he likes since he's constantly busy

Also, he would make terrible jokes and puns using wordplay

When you told him about your favourite drink, Sprite, Glass immediately said "I went to the store to get eight cans of Sprite. When I got home, I realized I’d only picked seven up"

You just looked dumbfounded at his puns and laughed as he continued

He did manage to take a sip and drank the whole can of Sprite instead

You even bought some wrap with extra mayo and told Simon about your friendly chat with the waitress/cashier and mentioned her former co-workers

And you died on the inside because his only reply was "She should go back sometime to ketchup with her old co-workers or she mayo not want to"

To shut him up, you have decided that buying him Sprite would work and it kinda did

Only for a short while though

Dr Alto Clef

Clef is well aware of the fast-food chain called McDonald's

It was hard to ignore it as a lot of people younger than him had kept talking about it, even you

Even worse if it was you talking about McDonald's since you have an obsession with their Sprite

Poor Clef was confused as he assumed that all lemon/lime flavoured drinks were the same

Oh boy was he wrong

You came back with your lunch from you know where and 2 bottles of Sprite

One was from McDonald's and the other from Lidl along with some of your favourite pastries, like croissants and toffee yum yums

You had him try all the foods and both Sprites and he finally gave in to the fact that McDonald's Sprite tastes more superior than the other

Not only that, he made dirty jokes and puns about the food in McDonald's

Like "Baby, you got more legs than a bucket of McDonald's", "Come over to my house and I’ll give ya a happy meal", "Do you work here? Because I’d like to order some fries with that shake" and "Girl when I am done with you, you won't be looking for no toys in this happy meal"

Dr Benjamin Kondraki

Benjamin Kondraki would be the type of person who would be reluctant to try but would anyways since you asked so kindly and gave them those eyes

And by that, I mean a death glare

NGL he doesn't seem like the type of fella to be eating a ton of unhealthy food

I mean he doesn't necessarily eat salad or anything overly healthy, but he does have a balanced diet for the most part and does treat himself sometimes, but not too often

You magically crept up behind Kondraki and scared him unintentionally but you still laughed anyway because you're evil

He looked down and realised that the packaging was from McDonald's and you were holding a familiar clear bottle in your other hand

You were kind enough to share your food with him and he thoroughly enjoyed it

Then after that, you forced him to drink some Sprite since he has PTSD from your unhealthy obsession with it

And yes, he did end up drinking it

And no, he didn't like it nor did he hate it

You were upset that you thought he shot you down about Sprite but quickly regained your happiness since he did tell you about the drink being just above average

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jaedreaminn · 3 years

Text

Office Wars

Pairings: fem!reader x Jaemin

Theme: Fluff, Mild Jealousy, playful arguments, light crack, humour, protective.

Word count:2.2k

Gist: You were always at each others throats at work and everyone knew that and was used to that but maybe there was more than just the arguments on the surface.

"Ms. Y/l/n you're typing too loudly" Na Jaemin said with his infamous smirk plastered on his face.

A collective sigh was heard across the office. Your colleagues were all used to the usual banter that took place between you and Jaemin, easily being able to tune the noise that followed.

You however found it particularly difficult to avoid the banter when Jaemin picked at you for the most ridiculous of things.

"Oh I'm sorry Supervisor Na I didn't realise your hearing aid was on" You replied, the snark to your tone didn't go unnoticed as Jaemin scoffed but you couldn't be bothered to look away from your work.

"I don't need hearing aid to hear your keyboard being murdered, the poor thing has to recieve the brunt of your anger caused by Writer Kim"

You slammed your hands onto your table and angrily spun your swirling chair in the direction in which Na Jaemin sat.

Your anger doubled as you saw him proudly smirking from his position, knowing you just gave into his taunts but you couldn't care enough since he was the one that made the low blow.

"Don't you ever get tired idoling around and causing your co-workers headaches?" You said to the smug looking boy before getting on your feet and waking to the pantry.

Jaemin smiled as he watched you dissapeare behind the wall that separates the office and the pantry.

You made two cups of coffee, calming yourself before you walked out placing one on Jaemins table and carried the other to yours and got back to your work. At this point the office was slightly accustomed to your dynamics but it still baffled them. No one understood how the two of you worked, one minute you were at eachother throats the next second you were on the same team. And they didn't even try to understand, they just went along with it.

Like right now,

"You're going to be late for the briefing if you don't hurry your pretty little fingers up" you mocked, the cheeky grin plastered on your face clearly showed how amused you were by the fact that Na Jaemin had FORGOTTEN to prepare for today's briefing as your teams supervisors in this small publishing company.

The furiously typying man let go of his lip that was trapped between his teeth to grind them together, eyes wavering for a second to glare at you before focusing on his task at hand.

You cheerily walked away, a skip in your step as you reached the meeting room waiting for your supervisor and CEO to enter, happily chattering with your colleague Joy about the small queer owned business the two of you came across on instagram because of this month.

Soon the CEO stepped in and the room fell quite, Jaemin was still not on his seat but a minute later he walked in apologising for the delay.

A rather short and surprisingly sucessful briefing later you walked back to your desk to finish of what little work you had left before you streched, slightly pushing your chair away from your desk.

"Ready to go y/n?" Joy asked coming upto you and you grinned at her, nodding.

"Don't waste time then c'mon" you heard the annoying voice of Na Jaemin say from behind you and then saw the man in question walk past you. You glared holes into his back and Joy chuckled.

You and Joy continued to chater as you made your way to the restaurant your team always eats at, to find that your entire team was already sitting there.

"I ordered what you asked me to" Your colleague Suho said to Joy who thanked him.

You took your seat inbetween Crystal and Yangyang, which also happened to be directly opposite Jaemin.

"I ordered (insert dosh of your choice) for you" Jaemin told you and the two of your stared at eachother for a few seconds and then you smiled at him thanking him.

Everyone let out a breath they didn't know they were holding at that, expecting you to get mad at him for ordering for you without you asking him to.

The wait for the food to arrive was peaceful, except for the few snark remarks you and Jaemin exchanged but it wasn't something that people weren't used to.

Upon the arrival of your food your eyes lit up. Ever since you were a kid you loved to eat, in fact you were the biggest foodie in your family.

You excitedly picked up your chop sticks ready to dig in before a voice interrupted you.

"Your food isn't going anywhere slow down or you'll burn your tongue." Jaemin said nonchalantly and you ignored him poking out your tongue at him and immediately digging in for a big bite.

As soon as the food touched your tongue you're eyes widened at the sharp sensation caused by the heat immediately dropping the serving back onto your plate as you started to pant like a dog because of the heat.

Yangyang who was next to you noticed, placing a hand on your shoulder and picking up your glass of water with his other hand.

"Careful Y/n" he warend rather uselessly after the deed was done, bringing the cup of water to your lips so that you could wash down the heat with the cooling water.

You drank the water, hands reaching out the hold the cup on your own. Once the burning sensation cooled down, you turned to Yangyang offering him a smile while thanking him.

You're attention then turned to Jaemin who sat infront of you glaring at no one in particular, expecting him to be looking smug.

You shrugged at the change in attitude as you continued your mean, this time blowing on your food before you took a bite.

Not even fifteen minutes later you felt a kick on you shin and then looked up to see Jaemin leaving, you sighed rolled your eyes and finished the food on your plate as fast as you could before dashing out back to the office. No you didn't forget to pay, the meals were handeled by the company.

You reached the office only to find Jaemin sitting on his seat pouting angrily as he typed away. You chuckled, deciding to not indulge him as you walked back to your seat and got on with your work and ignored the way Jaemin looked at you even poutier than before.

Ignoring him was a bad choice since after that he got even more annoying, dropping more files on your desk for you to deal with, making random comments about your corrections, complaining about anything and everything and you just ignored the fussy manchild with an eye roll.

"Y/n we have to go for the mandatory company diner now." Joy said to you and you looked out the window at the end of the office to see the sky becoming a dark orange hue, it was late evening.

"I still have so much to do" you whined, letting your head fall onto your desk with a thud and Joy winced, not knowing what to say.

"Stop whining y/n and just come back and get it done. I have work to do to so I can walk with you back to the office after dinner." Jaemin said walking upto your desk.

You lifted your head sligtly to look at the tall male who was looking at you, waiting for a reply to his question and you sighed head falling between your arms again.

"We have to leave now we don't have forever y/n make a choice" Jaemin said impatiently tapping his foot on the floor.

"Okay let's go!" You said suddenly jumping up and marching towards the exit. Jaemin chuckled and Joy looked at you as if you had grown two heads but then the two of them immediately followed behind you.

The company diner was uneventful. Mr. Choi on of your clients was making what he though to be flirtatious eyes at you again but you only saw it as creepy. But you were still able to enjoy you meal, sitting between Jaemin and Joy, happily chattering away.

After everyone was done eating you knew you couldn't stay to chat and you lifted you phone off the table checking the time and signalling Jaemin who nodded and the two of you bid your goodbyes.

"I can walk you if you want y/n-shi" a rosy cheek and very drunk Mr.Choi said and you gagged.

"It's Ms.y/l/n to you Mr.Choi and there's no need I'm walking her there, making sure our employee feels safe by making sure you're not around them." Jaemin said, eyes glaring daggers and the now offended drunk man.

"You" Mr.Choi yelled pointing his finger and an unimpressed Jaemin "How dare you talk to me like that! Don't you know how important I am to this company" the angry drunk man yelled.

"Mr Choil please stay professional because it isn't that hard to find good writers, especially on to replace you." Your CEO spoke up and you had to hold back a chuckle at Mr.Chois flustered face as his mouth opened and closed not able to form any words.

"If that all we'll be taking out leave." Jaemin said grabbing onto you hand and bowing at your CEO who nodded and quickly dragged you away. You quickly bowed in respects to you CEO too before you were dragged away by Jaemin.

"I felt like punching him" Jaemin said on your walk to the office, hand still holding yours.

"Me too" you chuckled at the fuming male as you walked the rest of the way in silence, hand in hand.

You immediately rushed to you desk upon reaching your office and started typing away and Jaemin lazily strolled to his seat, doing whatever he had to do.

Half an hour later and all you had to do was send out two mails and save the document you were working on, so you let yourself relax alittle slumping back onto your chair. You peaked at what jaemin was doing and smiled. "That's a good score, must have been alot of WORK" you teased and Jaemin looked embarrassed at getting caught.

"I-i was bored okay" he said avoiding your gaze and you smiled.

"Okay"

You crossed one leg over the other, leaning over your desk to send the last two e-mails and save the document you were busy correcting.

Just as you finished with your work and sat up straight Jaemin spoke "You know when a person sits with crossed legs and their legs are pointing towards you that means they like you" he said pointing at your position and you looked down to see your leg was indeed pointing at him.

"That means you like me y/n." Jaemin said cheekily wiggling his eyebrows.

And you looked at him eyes screwed as if you were judging his entire existence, which you were "Jaemin" he hummed in reply still grining, "We're engaged it would be really weird if I didn't like you" You said and Jaemins grin grew even wider and you sighed chuckling at your happy fiance.

"Yea it would be weird" he said sliding his chair towards you, crashing into you slightly and you steadied him.

"Ahh your so cute my y/n" he said pulling you into his arms and plukering his his lips trying to kiss you but you leaned away from him just to annoy him.

"Don't avoid my kisses" he huffed pouting as he tried again but you teased him again avoiding him.

"Yah! You brat give me a kiss!" he yelled and you chuckled turning you head to give him a small peck on his nose but he had other plans immediately moving his face and his lips met yours in a sweet kiss in which you felt yourself melting into. Kissing Jaemin was always calming and he always tasted sweet even thought he drank that disgustingly bitter coffee.

You slowly felt his hands snake behind your head pulling you closer lips moving in sync as he deepend the kiss, your breaths mingled as both of you felt lightweight. You got lost in eachother for a second before you slowly pulled away resting your forehead against his. He smiled at you eyes sparkling in the dim lit room.

"If someone walked in on us right now they'd have a heart attack" Jaemin joked and you chuckled. It was an unspoken rule between the two of you to keep your relationship a secret in the office and you did that by bickering. "We should tell them now though shouldn't we?" You asked and Jaemin pecked you cheek sitting up staright, "Yea and hand them the wedding invites" and you grinned, heat rushing to your cheeks, you never got used to the fact that you were to get married to Na Jaemin, your soulmate.

Needless to say when the two of you told everyone at the office the next day you were pretty sure some of them were this close to having a heart attack. But most of them Congratulated you as you stood hand in hand with Jaemin, grinning like an idiot.

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agustdakasuga · 3 years

Text

Between The Bloodshed | Chapter 14

Genre: Mafia!AU, Angst, Romance, Fluff

Pairing: OT7 x Reader

Characters: Doctor!Reader, Gangster!Namjoon, Gangster!Seokjin, Gangster!Yoongi, Gangster!Hoseok, Gangster!Jimin, Gangster!Taehyung, Gangster!Jungkook

Summary: Being a freelance doctor, this was just supposed to be any other job, helping a private client and taking care of him through his recovery. But you were not expecting to get caught in something so much darker that would change your life entirely.

Going to Florida on vacation also seemed to be the perfect time to find out where the other boys came from and their pasts.

Warning: This story is fictional and has nothing to do with real life events or the actual members of BTS. It may contain depictions of violence, blood shed/ gore and mentions of abuse. Please read at your own discretion.

Chapter warning(s): The boys share their pasts, which can be rough. Mentions of suicide, past abuse, PTSD. There’s also quite some drinking in this chapter.

“He’s fine. Just a little bit too much sun.” You chuckled in a whisper, tucking Jin under the blanket. With that, you exited the room with the 6 others. The oldest had felt a little faint after playing in the sun, which led to his current state.

“We should-”

RINGGGGGGG

“Ugh, one minute.” Jimin took his phone out of his pocket, walking away to answer his call. You and Jungkook looked at each other, shrugging. You headed to the living room, with you draping your legs over Hoseok to watch television, not that Hoseok minded.

“Jin hyung is asleep... That means his snacks are unguarded!” Jungkook shot up from the couch, running to the pantry.

“Nothing stand between him and food.” Taehyung raised an eyebrow. Namjoon shook his head and chuckled, bidding all of you goodbye before leaving with a book tucked under his arm.

“What’s for dinner?” Yoongi asked.

“I think steak and pasta.” Jungkook said, mouth stuffed to the brim with cookies. The staff that worked here had the same schedule as those back in Korea.

“What shall we do tonight?”

“I don’t know. We should stay in on our first night. To just... chill.” Hoseok shrugged and everyone nodded in agreement.

“Even when we put a vacation notice out, work doesn’t seem to stop coming.” Jimin stormed in, complaining. Taehyung raised an eyebrow at his best friend, shifting to let him sit on the couch.

“That’s what you get for opening a new place 2 weeks before the vacation. And a big place, with a lot of manpower needed.” Jungkook scoffed. Jimin sighed, full of regret. He had opened a new male host lounge for ladies 2 weeks ago and safe to say, the business was booming. His phone was ringing non-stop from wanting business partners.

“I’ll just leave it to the others to handle.” Jimin said.

“Yeah, put the phone away. You’re here to relax.” You put your hands behind your head.

“I’m guessing you did the same?” Yoongi faced you.

“My family knows I’m on vacation. There’s an emergency number if they really need to reach me, which I doubt they will. It’s my last vacation before I have to hear my mother start nagging me again.” You rolled your eyes.

“Nag you?” Taehyung tilted his head.

“My brother’s, her star child, is coming into town with my very pregnant sister-in-law for the birth of her second grandchild.” You explained and the boys all nodded, understanding. At the ball where they met your parents, there was a brief mention of your older brother.

“I was an only child. Never had siblings. Omma was worried that if she had another, he or she would come out sick like me.” Jimin forced a smile.

“I’m sorry, Chim.” You reached over to hold his hand.

“It’s okay. Fortunately, Yoongi hyung was there to break me out of the hospital.” He turned to the older, who was sitting on the adjacent couch, sipping from his red wine glass.

“You broke him out of a hospital?” Your eyes widened. Yoongi let out a long sigh, placing his glass on the table.

“Since she couldn’t figure out the reason why Jimin was always sick, Mrs Park thought the only way to provide Jimin the care he needed was to lock him in a hospital.” He explained. Jimin cleared his throat.

“I first met Yoongi hyung at a martial arts convention. Since I used to train in kendo, omma let me go but I couldn’t participate in the demonstration. When he found out that omma checked me into the hospital, he got me out and brought me to join the family. Even when I was sick, Yoongi hyung and Namjoon hyung took care of me.” Jimin gave a small smile.

“I mean, since we’re telling our family stories, my mother abandoned me when I was younger, at an amusement park. I joined an orphanage after.” Hoseok said.

“Yoongi hyung’s father adopted me to be hyung’s playmate but that was it. We could only see each other during playtime. Other than that, I stayed in the small hut in the backyard.” Hoseok continued.

“It was practically a tool shed with a mattress.” Yoongi said bitterly.

“Yoongi, so your father...”

“He was rich, powerful, as was Namjoon’s father. We had been friends for a long time since our fathers were friends. After our fathers died, we dissolved their associations and formed our own.” Yoongi explained.

“I see... I didn’t know both your fathers were also... in the same line of business.” You tried to speak.

“With the way my father treated Hoseok and my mother, we don’t bring him up. Same with Namjoon.” Yoongi said but there was a warning tone in his voice.

“I-Is it, my turn?” Jungkook lifted his head.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to.” You comforted. Jungkook took a deep breath, shaking his head. If anything, he trusted you and wanted you to know his background.

“I was quite a small kid, so I was generally quite quiet in school. I had one older brother. Mum and dad worked a lot so it was mostly my brother and me. At first, hyung was the best brother I could ever ask for. He took care of me, protected me, everything.” Jungkook gulped.

“Then one day, he started treating me like I was invisible, at school and at home. That progressed to him hitting me and bullying me, hurting me.” He said sadly.

“Jungkook...” Jimin said sadly.

“Namjoon hyung was passing by an alley when my brother almost beat me to death. He brought me to the hospital to get treated. Since then, I’ve been living with him.” Jungkook finished.

“Did your parents come find you?” You asked.

“They never believed me when I told them hyung hurt me. He must have told them I ran away or something since he thinks he left me for dead.”

“But you’re stronger now.” Taehyung patted Jungkook’s head. Considering Taehyung didn’t start his background story, the others assumed that he already told you about him.

“Dinner is served.” The butler informed, breaking the thick tension in the air from all the heavy conversations.

“I’ll get the others.” You said, going to head upstairs. The first person you checked on was Jin, he was still fast asleep, which you let him be. Namjoon was standing in the hallways, outside of Jin’s bedroom.

“I heard what the boys told you.” He said. You nodded your head in acknowledgement.

“(y/n), I think you know that with such backgrounds, it’s not all black and white for them. On top of always falling ill, Jimin lived with a fear of being a burden, like how his own mother treated him. Yoongi hyung lives with the guilt of how his father treated Hoseok. He feels the need to make it up to him with his life.” Namjoon started.

“Hoseok is afraid of abandonment. Taehyung dealt with meltdowns, panic attacks, so much trauma. You’ve seen it, he’s still not over what happened to him.”

“And Jungkook, I can’t tell you the number of times I had to stop him from taking his own life. He was afraid of being hurt by the one he loved, just like before.” Namjoon sighed.

“I know, Namjoon. It must have been a lot for you and Yoongi to face, along with your own fears. But look at who you saved. Where would they all be now if you and Yoongi didn’t help them?” You placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Everyone comes with their own battle scars. But that’s what makes us human and survivors, right?” You smiled.

“You always know what to say, doc.” Namjoon chuckled.

“Of course. I’m the best, am I not?” You nudged him, making him laugh even more. With that, the two of you headed downstairs to the dining room, where the others were seated around the table. Namjoon sat at the head of the table while you sat between Jungkook and Yoongi.

“Let’s eat.” Namjoon waved for the wait staff to bring in the trays of food and pour the drinks. Even if the dinner was quieter than usual, it wasn’t suffocating. You’ve reached a new level of understanding with the boys.

“What shall we do tomorrow?” Jimin asked.

“I wanna go look around the city. If possible. Maybe buy some things for myself.” You shrugged.

“Yes! Shopping! We’ll come too!” Taehyung and Jungkook cheered. You smiled, somehow knowing that it was going to be chaotic with the boys. Hoseok clapped his hands in excitement.

“What if I wanna go on my own?” You raised an eyebrow.

“No way! It’s not safe for you to be on your own.” Jungkook shook his head, putting his arms in a cross.

“Are you saying I am not capable to defending myself?” You asked him with a smirk.

“Ooh, you’ve done it now, Kook.”

“Yeah, even I don’t go there.” Yoongi decided to join in on the fun of teasing the maknae. Jungkook’s eyes widened when he realised what he did, immediately facing you and rubbing his hands together in an apologetic matter.

“I’m sorry! You are very much capable of defending yourself! Even better than me or anyone else because you’re a strong, independent woman! I would never doubt your strength! Please don’t kill me!” He rambled on. You threw your head back in laughter, reaching over to pat his head. Even the others just looked on in amusement.

“Alright, let’s stop teasing, Koo.” You said.

After dinner, everyone was gathered back in the living room, watching some show that was playing on the television.

“The night is young! We should party!” Hoseok declared.

"This is not going to end well.” Yoongi clicked his tongue with a shake of his head. It was obvious he had to deal with his drunk brothers multiple times before.

“I brought drinks and snacks!” Jungkook brought two big trays out, one with different alcoholic drinks and the other filled with snacks, courtesy of Jin’s stash. You took a bottle of beer. Hoseok and Namjoon did the same, clinking bottles with you. Jungkook grabbed some soju.

“Hyung? You want one?” Jungkook offered a filled shot glass to Taehyung. Taehyung, who doesn’t usually drink, shrugged and accepted it. Yoongi stuck to his whiskey like always.

“Honestly didn’t think the drinking was gonna start on our first night here. But I’m not one to complain.” You shrugged.

“We’re on vacation. It’s always drinking time.” Hoseok said.

“I agree!” Jungkook grinned. You snorted in response. Jimin decided to have soju with the other two, taking an empty shot glass. Jungkook happily filled it up for him.

“Hey...” Jin stood at the stairwell.

“Hey, Jin. How are you feeling?” You asked as you stood up to head to him. Jin gave a small smile and a thumbs up.

“Are those my snacks?!” His eyes widened as he marched over.

“Shot?” Jungkook offered as a consolation. Jin glared at the maknae but took the tiny glass, glancing over at you. You shrugged, nodding your head in approval. Hoseok and Taehyung shifted to give Jin space to sit down. Everyone with their drinks, cheered to your first night on vacation, taking a swig. You leaned against Jimin’s side.

“Do you want dinner, Jin?”

“Nah, I’m fine with the snacks and drinks.” He waved you off.

“Alright but if you feel dizzy again, stop and rest. And tomorrow, please remember to hydrate yourself when out.” You lectured. The boys all groaned, even if you were only directing your words at Jin.

“Now you’re nagging.” Taehyung boxed his ears, whining. You rolled your eyes, reaching to smack him.

That night, when all the boys retreated to their rooms, passed out drunk, you were in your room spending some alone time. There was a knock on your door and you stood up from your bed, shuffling over to see who it was.

“Hobi?” You were shocked.

“C-Can I come in?” He rubbed the back of his neck. You nodded your head, stepping aside for him to enter.

“Can’t sleep?” You asked softly.

“Just a lot on my mind.” He admitted with a soft sigh. You sat on your bed, legs dangling off the side. You patted the space beside you and Hoseok gladly accepted, sitting beside you as the moon shined in.

“Bringing up the past isn’t easy. It opens a lot of scars you thought were healed, memories that you thought was locked away, feelings that you thoughts were gone. It’s okay, Hobi.” You whispered with a soft smile, wrapping an arm around him. Hoseok placed his head on your shoulder.

“It’s okay.” You comforted.

“She left me there, all alone. For strangers to take me. And I probably will never know the reason why until the day I die.” He said aimlessly.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that, Hobi.” You squeezed his hand.

“Yoongi hyung still feels so guilty for what his father did when he adopted me. But I always think that even if he did treat me badly, I still got to leave the orphanage and meet Yoongi hyung.”

“And then you met the rest of the boys. Look how inseparable you all are now.” You stroked his head.

“I also got to meet you.” Hoseok added.

“I’m just there to clean your cuts and take care of you when you’re sick.” You laughed.

“That’s not true. You mean a lot to me and everyone else, more than you’d think, (y/n).” Now, it was Hoseok holding your hands, looking into your eyes, his full of honesty and sincerity.

You woke up the next morning, rubbing your temples, feeling the slight effect of the alcohol from the night before. Hoseok was still passed out beside you, sleeping soundly. You got out of bed quietly, washing up before heading downstairs. The house was quiet, signalling that maybe no one else was awake, still sleeping the alcohol off.

“You’re up?” You nearly jumped when Yoongi appeared, drinking a cup of iced coffee, his hair slightly damp and messy from his shower.

“Yeah. I need a hangover cure and a coffee.” You went to the kitchen. The maid brought you a cup of water and the small bottle of hangover cure. You downed the bitter liquid following that with water.

“Here.” Yoongi fixed you an iced coffee of your own.

“Thank you.” You sipped it.

“Hoseok... he’s with you?” Yoongi cleared his throat as he asked. You nodded your head with a hum.

“Yeah. He came over to talk then we just fell asleep after.” You explained. Yoongi gave a nod, moving to sit out on the deck. You trailed behind him quietly, taking the seat across him. All you heard were the crashing of the waves and the strong wind rustling the trees.

“I’m part of the reason he’s like that.” Yoongi spoke.

“Why do you burden yourself with that?” You asked back. Yoongi blinked, seemingly surprised by your words.

“You know it’s not true, you know that Hobi doesn’t think that, and yet you force yourself to live with the guilt. You know that you’re not like your father, whatever he did to Hobi was out of your control.” You said.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Yoongi said with gritted teeth.

“Exactly, I don’t. But what I see is you feeling sorry for yourself and Hobi being worried about showing his emotions because he doesn’t want you to start feeling guilty again.”

“He said that?”

“Not exactly. It’s pretty obvious to a bystander.” You shrugged.

“Yoongi, I have better things to do than to stand here and taunt you. The only people there were you and Hobi. Will anyone ever understand what each of you went through? I don’t know. You and I both know that Hobi holds whatever happened close to him. But he sees the light, even in a dark situation. If he can do that, I don’t see why you can’t.” You said.

“I know.” Was all he could reply.

“I’m going to check on Jin, okay?” You stood up. But you were yanked back by your wrist. Yoongi wrapped his arms around your waist, pressing his face into your middle.

“I hate that you’re right.” He mumbled. You let out a soft hum, patting the top of his fluffy hair. When Yoongi released you, you looked down at him.

“You saved so many of them, Yoongs. Give yourself more credit. They all look up to you for a reason.” You laughed.

“Go check on Jin hyung.” He said, patting your hip.

“Right on it, sir.” You saluted. That made Yoongi break out into a small smile as he watched you leave. You hummed a random tune as you headed upstairs to see how Jin was doing today.

“Doc? You’re here.” He slowly opened his eyes, squinting to focus his vision on you. He gave you a sleepy smile. You smiled softly as you nodded, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear as you placed your hand on his forehead. He wasn’t warm to the touch.

“How are you feeling?” You whispered.

“Okay. Sleepy... Hungover.” He chuckled, a little embarrassed.

“I’d bet. You can come down later to get some hangover cure. Luckily I told the butler to stock the house when we arrived yesterday.” You patted his shoulder, making him laugh.

“(y/n)!” When you exited Jin’s room, you saw a shirtless Jungkook barreling down the hallway, headed straight for you. You jumped back but he caught you.

“Good morning, Koo.” You said in amusement as he hugged you. He mumbled something in his sleepy stupor.

“What are you saying? I can’t understand you.”

“I went to your room to look for you but you weren’t there. I thought Hobi hyung was you but it wasn’t. Why is Hobi hyung in your bed? Where were you? Ugh... I have a headache and I’m hungry.” He rambled.

“Alright, alright. Slow down. I went to get some coffee to help my hangover and was with Yoongi on the deck. Then I went to check on Jin. Hobi just stayed the night after we talked. I have alka seltzer to help your hangover and I think the chefs are cooking hangover soup for all of us. Would you also please put on a shirt?” You answered all his questions, ending with one of yours.

“I’m sleepy.”

“I thought you were hungry?”

“I don’t know! My head hurts.” He whined. You sighed, patting his back as you led him back to his room.

“You stay here. I’ll bring you a hangover cure then you can see how you feel after that.” You instructed. He nodded his head like an obedient child. You went downstairs to get a small bottle and a glass of water.

“Thank you.” He received the two, drinking one after another, cringing slightly at the bitterness.

“It should help your headache and funny stomach. I’ll go check on the others to see if they need help.” You told him, tucking him back into bed under the blanket.

“Will you come back?” He held your hand.

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jungwonseyebrowsonflick · 3 years

Note

jake x fem reader cuddling !!! (fluff 🥺)

Here is it! I hope you like it! I really tried my best! 😅💜❤️💜@bloodsweat-bangtan

Warning: FULL OF FLUFF💖 but mention of " I'll die if you leave me"

====================================

A yawned escaped from your mouth, waiting for class to end. It's been a long day for you with neverending tests. Can't wait for the time to rest....but wait! Don't you have an anniversary to attend? You widen your eyes and stood up from your desk.

" that's all for today class! " The teacher said with a smile. Everyone got up form their seats and prepared their backpacks to leave. You already had your stuff packed quickly so you were one of the first students to leave the classroom.

"BOOO!" A dark brown hair boy said as he jumped in front of you to scare you with opened fingers ready to tickle you.

" Ahh! Jake! You scared me!" You said touching your chest where your heart was beating fast. You slightly hit Jake on the shoulder gaining a giggle from him. "I'm sorry my precious baby..." He said with his Australian accent. One of the reasons why you felt so attracted to this boy.

Jake wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pull you into a warm embrace as he pinched one of your cheeks with his other free hand and forced an innocent kiss on your lips.

" Not-in school Jake! You know I'm shy!" You complained trying to pull away from him but he grabbed your wrist and pull you back to him, once again force you another innocent kiss just to tease you. "Sim Jake!" You said not controlling your loud giggles.

" Jake! Hyung!" Suddenly a short brown hair boy yelled from behind you two with his unzipped backpack and his shoe laces untied.

He stopped next to you and saw the way Jake was giving you all his love and attention. The young boy wiggled his eyes at you two as he nudge his elbow against your arm. " OoOoOo~" he teased making a whole scene.

" Riki! Stop that! And tie your shoe laces!" You scolded him sounding like a mother. That's how your friendship with the young boy was: a relationship of mother and son.............and Jake the father.

"I do it later, Jake are we going to play soccer with Heeseung today?..." Jake asked with a hopeful smile and look.

" Tomorrow little bro, tonight I'll spend time with my pretty girlfriend" Jake said as he peck your chubby cheek.

" Tch! You prefer to spend time with your boring girlfriend than with us, your super cool and fun friends?" Riki asked in disbelief with a fake disgusted face just to tease the heck out of you.

" Hey Niki-san! Careful on what you're going to say in front of my girl!" Jake defended you as he walked in front of you as if to protect you. How proud you felt to see him behave so protective towards you.

" Ok ok I'm sorry" Riki laughed. " Then tomorrow is it, see you later Y/n!" Riki waved as he ran off ahead of them.

Jake locked his fingers on to yours holding your hand. " I have little surprise for our second year anniversary...." He said quietly against your ear. You widen your eyes in shock. " I thought you forgot since you didn't mention it in the morning?" You asked covering your mouth.

" Nop..... you'll see tonight" he said softly kissing on top of your hand he was holding.

°°°

" Don't worry you won't fall! I'm right behind you" Jake chuckled as he stand behind you, covering your eyes. He was taking you to the place where the surprise was. " Ok we're here.....now open your eyes" he whispered to your ear as he lets go of you.

You slowly opened your eyes. You saw the beautiful scenery in front of you. It was like you were looking at a work of art. A small round table with delicious good smelling food, wine, a red rose and a happy candle sitting right in the middle of the table waiting to be a company by two beautiful strangers. The grass was cut short and it's green color was eye-catching. Large wide trees standing around the park like bodyguards protecting the work of art. It's orange, yellow, and brown leaves swinging around with the lightly wind🍃. Then there was the most beautiful view to see.....a river. You loved how the moon reflected itself on the blue deep water. You loved the way the moon shone on you two brightening the romantic mood even better. Let's not forget about the neon lights of the buildings and skyscrapers behind the river making it look almost like the universe.

" Jake ...." You let out breathlessly, a tiny tear leaving from one eye. " This is ..... beautiful....oh my god Jake! This is amazing!" You squeal and jumped on him, wrapping your hands around his neck, your legs around his torso, lips pecking all over his face. " Jake! This is beautiful! You did this all by yourself?" You asked.

Jake chuckled and nodded quickly. " Yes love, I did it all by myself" Jake....lied...well kind of. To be honest he did this with the help of two romantic freaks: Jay and Sunoo. Now don't get him wrong, Jake really is romantic, he actually came up with all this places for a special date, while the other two helped with some of the settings.

Either way the three did a good job and now we have a happy Y/n crying because of this beautiful masterpiece. " Oh my god!..Gosh!...Girl get off and let's eat!" Jake yelled as he couldn't handle so many of your soft kisses on his handsome face. Giving him one last kiss on his lips you let him go and run towards a chair.

Jake sat next to you. As the gentleman he is he served you food and a glass of the finest wine. "Heaur, what ma queen desarves....." He said exaggerating his Australian accent. You laughed at his silliness and lightly hit him on his shoulder. " Shut up Jake! You're making me cringe!" You still kept laughing inside while sipping your fine wine.

°°°

" Babe, Thank you for this, the food was delicious, the wine was delicious, the desert in front of me was delicious-"

" There wasn't any deserve-"

" You, babe, You are the dessert!" You exclaimed as you pull Jake down to the ground were you two were just sitting a second ago. You two laid on the grass watching the white moon slowly decreasing. Jake turn to look at your pretty side profile and admire it.

'I'm really dating the prettiest girl on this planet....' he thought to himself. You felt his intense gaze looking at you which made you look back at him as well. As you did he immediately looked towards the moon and pretend as if he never wasn't looking at you.

" Jake, stop! Oh my god Jake" you laughed as you fake punch his arm and side. Jake just flinched and squeak as you tried to. He tried his best to not let you tackle him like that but ended up failing. However, after five minutes he took power over you and had you stuck against him. Your back against his hard chest and stomach, his arms wrapped around together with your arms around your stomach. His breath hitting the tiny hairs of your neck and shoulder.

" I love you,......I love you....Y/n...." He whispered in your ear. You chuckled and smiled at the moon.

" I love you too baby, you're the best thing that ever happened to me, after going through a lot in the past, you've been there for me.....that's why I love you so so much and I swear! Listen to me?....I swear I'll kill myself if you ever leave me Jakey...." You suddenly said with a worry look as you immediately turn around to cuddle him completely; your tiny arms wrapped around his torso, your legs tangle up with his strong soccer player legs. You buried your head against his warm chest and smelled the autumn leaves smell of his cologne.

The thought of Jake Sim leaving you for whatever reason really scares you and you don't want it to become reality.

" Hey! Shhhhh! Don't say that....." He whispered and scolded you. He furrowed his eyebrows down clearly not liking what you just said.

" Babe, look at me.....babe?.....look.....and hear me clearly......I won't leave you....ever.....heard that?....ever princess....you also been there when i needed someone as well....my princess you're my everything......" He kissed your forehead and stay there longer until he pulled away and cuddle you harder against him.

Jake stare at the beautiful moon that brightened the romantic night. He smiled at it and look down to look at you. He patted your hair and closed his eyes still smiling dreamingly.

❤️

💜

❤️

Thank you for reading 🤎

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caxsthetic · 3 years

Text

SLEEP THE NIGHT — miya atsumu

Type: Standalone Movie (One-Shot Fiction)

Cast: Miya Atsumu

Storyline: Tonight, he want to be the best boyfriend that he could be.

Genre: Drama, Slice of Life

He never cooked.

Miya Atsumu never dared to stand in the kitchen because he knew too well what could possibly happen. His twin brother who was now the owner of the infamous onigiri chain always told him that whatever he touched somehow turned into fire.

But he didn't care, at this moment he could only focus on the opened page of his tablet where your favourite food displayed. He tried to find the high rated recipe, even though it was not the simplest one, he just wanted to cook what was best for you.

After all, a perfect woman like you only deserves the nicest thing in life.

You were so patient, always supporting him through every step that he took. Never once you complained about his busy schedule, his almost non-existent presence inside the apartment you shared, or even the way he put you second after volleyball.

Volleyball always came first, that was a fact that you knew since you dated him long ago in high school. He loved the said sport more than anything in the world. His fiery passions, his energy, his time — he gave it all to a sport that he found together with his brother when they were just a silly kid.

And then came you, always silencing all those nosy new supporters when it was time for him to serve. Then came you, helping him answer a question that his teacher threw at him because he fell asleep in class after a harsh tournament.

You, a woman who helped him get through his days as your existence was like a guiding star for him.

He would fall into pieces if you were not there, walking by his side to remind him of time. He needed time to eat, time to rest, time to let loose and hang out with his beloved friends from high school. Atsumu was sure that he would be lost without you there for him.

So just this one time, he wanted to make it right for you.

"You don't have to cook for me, Atsumu." He just hummed to give you a sign that he heard you. "Atsumu, please." But he ignored your plea and continued to read the recipe. He wanted to do something good, something that a perfect boyfriend should do.

You could only let out a sigh as you sat on the kitchen island's stool, eyeing the national setter as he carefully added some ingredients on the pan. He hissed as the oil splashed out a little, hitting his skin that made him go into panic mode.

A chuckle slipped from your lips as you saw him frantically running to the sink, letting out a sigh of relief once he could feel cold water streaming down his hand, easing the pain in an instant. He really tried, today he really tried.

You didn't have the heart to stop him since you knew that once he set his mind on something, he wouldn't care about what anyone else's said. So you just sat there, becoming a company that he wanted, just like you always became for years slipping into his life.

"Come on, Atsumu." He insisted you to stay still as he cooked for you, and you didn't want to hurt his pride by walking toward him without telling him first. "Let me help you." So you asked, hoping that he would accept your proposition.

"Nope! Let me try this on my own." He answered with the same excitement as before and went back to his task. "Just sit there, I am almost done. Promise." Then he calmed down, composing himself so he could cook with a clear mind.

He needed to do it, he couldn't let tonight turn into another day where you ended up being the one who took care of him.

Atsumu turned off the stove before preparing the pristine white plate that would be used to showcase your favourite dish. He smiled in triumph as he looked at the masterpiece. Tonight was the first time he cooked a meal like this, and he couldn't help but be proud of himself for this one achievement.

Though, the glee that he felt right now was nothing compared to the twinkle that was seen in your eyes.

Your lips tugged into a smile as he set down the meal in front of you. He didn't want to eat, no, he wanted to see you first as your hand grabbed the fork. And the second you popped the piece into your mouth, he never felt this happy to see someone he loved enjoying his hard work.

You squealed a little, humming in satisfaction as you tasted the food that the blonde made just for you. It was happiness, written all over your face as you continued to eat, and each bite only made you crave for more.

Maybe this was what Osamu felt, maybe this was the reason why his brother wanted to be in the culinary career. To make people smile, to see the joyful look from your loved one for something that you made.

Wouldn't it be lucky to have the younger twin as a lover? Running a respected business, working together with a dear friend, all bills covered, making something that others could enjoy, things that his lover would cherish at the end of the day.

Truthfully — Atsumu was a little bit jealous of his twin right now.

Because with volleyball, he couldn't do the same. Sure, you were there on almost every match that he had. Yes, there was always a smile on your face as you cheered for him. And of course, you looked so happy as you stood at the stands with pride swelling your chest.

But was that enough to give to a lover?

His winning only belonged to him, it was something that anyone else couldn't enjoy, except maybe his teammate. Unlike food that could be tasted, unlike clothes that could be worn. Volleyball just, well, volleyball. It was a sport that he loved, one that he couldn't share with a lover.

Yet you never changed, you never left him. Even though he couldn't give much, even though he was not that perfect boyfriend who could pay all the bills and buy you expensive gifts — you stayed, for such a long time, patiently there even though he was barely around.

"Atsumu?"

He jolted when his name slipped from your lips. Brown orbs immediately finding yours that filled with concern, face softened at whatever expression that was shown on his facade right now. "Why don't you eat your meal? Do you dislike it now?"

"No, no." He cleared his throat, avoiding your gaze for a moment. "I like it, I like anything that you love, (Y/n)." He wanted to bonk his head for saying such a cliche sentence, but he couldn't help it since it was exactly what he felt.

You only gave him a smile before focusing back to the meal that he made for you. And for him, seeing you like this, so adorable as you shove your favourite food in your mouth — he wished that he did something like this sooner, adding some spices to his endless routine at the court.

Adding you, to his daily routine.

"I am going to clean the dishes, okay?" You said softly as you got up from your seat. Your plate was already empty with how fast you ate the meal. "You already cooked, so let me do this one."

He didn't answer and just ate the rest of the food on his plate. With his speed, he choked a little but kept continuing anyway. He gulped down a glass of water right after his plate was clean without anything on top of it.

"No. Let me be a good boyfriend to-"

"Atsumu."

The setter immediately went silent from the intonation that you used. Stern, yet still filled with warm. He didn't dare to say anything as you grabbed his plate away, afraid that he would ruin the perfect night.

Like what he always did, like all the nights before this.

"Just go upstairs, I will join you in bed once I am done." He didn't move though, eyes fleeting to where you were right now as you walked to the sink.

"You promise?"

You dropped the plate gently, letting out a sigh before turning your face toward him. There it was, a smile that always made him feel at ease. You looked so breathtaking even if you only cladded with old pajamas and hair sticking out like you haven't combed for days.

"I promise, Atsumu."

And with that, he stood up. Knowing for sure that you were a woman of your word.

Atsumu wanted to walk up toward you, wrapping his arms around your torso as he let his face rested on your nape, sniffling your scent as much as he could. But he was afraid, he never did that before, what if you didn't get used to him for being so touchy like that?

He decided to turn his head and ascend to the second floor where the shared bedroom was located. When he thought about it, he was rarely there, sleeping on the same bed with you even though it would be years since he had you as his lover.

Most of the time he was always out, practising until late at night, bonding with his teammates, and decided to crash at his friend's apartment instead since it was too far from his place to their gymnasium. Yet you always reached for him. Making time to give him some healthy lunchboxes and snacks in between your busy hours of work.

He realised that he was such a bad boyfriend.

"Hey, 'Tsumu-"

"You are coming today, right?" He asked with excitement as he zipped his team jacket up. "We are going to play against Suna! Ha, I want to rile him up so much I wonder how he is in the court right now." He looked like a child, gleeful as he looked at his reflection on the mirror. "You gonna be there?"

You could only stare at him, spinning your brain to think about what sentence that you should let out.

"W-Well, of course." You cleared his throat, cursing at yourself for even stuttering. "You promised to take me to that restaurant you reserved after the match too, how could I waste a chance to spend time with my boyfriend?"

And as you saw his face contorted into a shocked one, you knew that you were back in the same cycle all over again. "You forget, didn't you?"

"Fuck, I am sorry." He immediately turned his face toward you, fear coated his eyes. "I forgot to make the reservation and I— shit! I even promised Suna to hang out after that." He immediately took a few steps forward, wanting to cup your cheek as he knew you didn't deserve to be treated like this — from time to time.

"It's okay, 'Tsumu." And this was always the outcome. "Volleyball world comes first, I know. It's alright." For you to be so understanding, for you to realise your place. "Just make it up for me by enjoying your game. Win this game for me, maybe?"

He was relieved that you didn't get angry, most women would kick his ass if he acted like this all the time. But never you, never his (Y/n).

"You know I always win." He chuckled softly, followed by yours as he leaned in to press his lips on your forehead. "And today is nothing different. Why would I need to win for you just today though? The other match wins were all for you too."

"So it's like a routine, then?" Your eyes fleeting to pierce into his brown orbs. "Hey, 'Tsumu, do you have any plan for me today?"

Why did he feel like that question was a trap? With how your eyes filled with hope, he wanted to say that he indeed had a plan for you. But he didn't, and he couldn't lie. Because in the end, you always see right through him. That was proven by how the hope was gone even before he could part his lips.

"I see." There was a little remorse in your tone, and he wanted to cheer you up in an instant. "That's okay, then!" Yet you were the one who cheered him up, didn't want him to worry about anything. "Come on, let's go. I don't want your teammates to be wary if you are late!"

He frowned when he remembered that day. How he dropped you to stay with his twin brother the whole match, the way your eyes glimmered as Osamu gave you a lunch box filled with your favourite filling onigiri. The hug that was shared, that lingered longer as his twin congratulated you a 'happy birthday'.

Atsumu wanted to punch himself when he realised that it was your birthday after all. The reason why you wanted to spend time with him, why you seemed more clingy that day, of course. And yet, he was not the first person who gave you the greetings, even though he was the one who you saw first thing in the morning.

He always wondered about why you decided to stay with him in his free time that was almost non-existence.

How you always let everything slide, how you suck it up and just focus on his well being, how you answer everyone teasing about him being a bad boyfriend — yet you always answered with pride that whatever happened, he was a good one, and you were happy to have him as your boyfriend.

But at one point, anyone must have hit their limit. Right?

"What is clouding in that big head of yours, Atsumu?" You flicked his forehead, and it was like a reminder to him that he had you in his arms right now, laying under the warm blanket in the bedroom that you two shared. "Your upcoming—"

"You." He answered truthfully before averting his gaze from the ceiling to your face. "I was thinking about you, honestly."

There was a flicker of sadness in your eyes, and he wanted to curse at himself for saying something like that out of the blue. "I am sorry, I know that tonight was supposed to be just us enjoying the moment together and not being sappy."

He held your body even closer than before, afraid that you would be gone too soon if he let it loose. His body shifted a little so he could plant a kiss at the crown of your head, eyes fluttering close as he bathed on the scent that reminded him that he would never be alone.

No words were being said after that, just you and him in each other's embrace. Your fingers stayed in his unruly hair, caressing the blonde strands that slowly lulled him to sleep.

But he didn't want to sleep yet. He didn't want to close his eyes. He wanted to savour the moment with you, one that he rarely felt with how he always prioritised volleyball above everything else. Above you, even.

Atsumu rubbed his eyes from time to time, insisting to stay awake and gripped your hips a little tighter than before. Just one more minute, he wanted to feel your warm body cuddling against his skin for a little longer.

"Hey, (Y/n)." He called out, earning a little hum of acknowledgement slipping from your lips. "Can you call me like you used to?"

He could feel how your body went rigid for a second. Your breath hitched, halted as if the request was something that could hurt you. "I understand if you can't though. I am okay if you didn't, I just want to hear it again."

One second, two seconds, everything felt so heavy as he waited for your answer. He wanted to hear his nickname from your lips, it sounds so lovely, not irritating like how his brother called him with the same name.

"Okay, 'Tsumu."

He felt so relieved as he heard his name rolled down your tongue. Happiness, love, comfort, he found it all with the way you called his name. You always use that nickname ever since you dated him, and it felt like a lifetime ago since the last time he heard it from you.

It was just Atsumu now. No more 'Tsumu, just his full first name that still sounded so odd since he still couldn't believe his mind. No, he could believe it. With how much he neglected you, with how much he was never there in your life — he acknowledged it. He just didn't want to.

"You should sleep, 'Tsumu." Your fingers trailed down his cheek as you looked up. "You have practice tomorrow, right?"

You knew all about his schedules, all the things that he allowed to eat and things that he had to do. You printed his routine in the back of your mind, somehow up until now, you couldn't help but care for him.

"Yeah, I have practice tomorrow." He gulped down before booping your nose playfully. "But I want to stay awake a little more. If that's too much to ask?"

He mustered his puppy eyes, pouting a little and tightening his embrace around you. This was your weakness, to see him all clingy like this. And when you let out a sigh and giggle, he knew that he got you.

"God, I love you so much to resist you, you know that?" You whispered out under your breath. But then as if you knew in an instant what you had said, you cleared your throat. "Okay, I give in. Stop giving me that puppy eyes, Atsumu."

"Sorry, sorry." He smiled sheepishly before resting his head comfortably on the pillow once again, securing you in his embrace as you laid back on his chest. "One more question, (Y/n). And then I promised I would zip my mouth after that until we fell asleep."

"Alright, shoot."

He frowned a little, eyes scanning the unfamiliar ceiling. He was not supposed to feel like a guest in his own place. Yet as he saw the beige coloured ceiling with some starlight sticker, he didn't feel right. Yeah, it was the price that he had to pay for rarely here in this apartment with you.

"From scale zero to ten, how perfect of a man I am today?"

He heard a sigh, another one slipped from you. Atsumu could count how many times you had sigh because of him, and he really wished that he could make you laugh instead of giving you headaches like this. "Don't sugarcoat though, I just needed the truth."

"Ten." You answered without doubt, yet as he looked down, wanting to see your eyes, you didn't look up. "Not just today, you always had a perfect score as a man. Passionate, have a big dream, would do anything to achieve it. If not I am not going to be your girlfriend for so long."

Ah, he just realised that he used the wrong term in his question.

"Let me rephrase it, (Y/n)." He closed his eyes, thinking if he was ready to hear the truth or not. "From scale zero to ten, how perfect of a boyfriend I am today?"

You clutched the tight shirt that he wore at his question, burying your face on his chest to hide yourself. He raised one of his eyebrows in confusion, didn't know why you couldn't answer it. Maybe it was that bad, maybe he could never be a good boyfriend after all.

"Perfect." He almost couldn't hear your answer with how it muffled on his shirt. "You are so perfect today, 'Tsumu."

Though he could hear it so clearly, the answer. He wanted to hear the other statement, of how he was always a perfect boyfriend, just like how you told him he was a perfect man. But of course it was not possible, he never became a lover that you could be proud of.

All these time, you complimented him, you showed to the world his capability. His skill in volleyball, his soft side toward his brother, how loyal he was to his friends — but you never said anything about how good of a boyfriend he was.

It was just all about him, not how he treated you.

"Hold me," He pleaded, biting his lips since he didn't want his voice to waver. "Hold me tighter than usual." His voice sounded like a whisper as he held you close, and he wanted you to do the same. "Please?"

Miya Atsumu was not someone who liked to beg, he knew you always gave what he wanted anyway. "Just tonight." But he wouldn't gamble anything right now. "I just need it tonight."

He swallowed down the tears that entreating to escape from his eyes. With how your arm moved to hold him close, caging him in a circle filled with comfort, maybe this was enough to be remembered.

Maybe this was enough to be remembered forever.

"I love you, 'Tsumu."

You sat in the living room with your head hanging low, hands covering your face as you didn't have the courage to look up at where your boyfriend sat. "But I am… Tired."

This was the first time he saw you cry. No, the first one was when he won national all those years ago in high school as he screamed at you that he won for you too. But never like this, the tears you shed right now was different from back then. "I tried, I really want to stay with you, to kiss you every morning, to cuddle with you under the blanket."

He couldn't say anything, heart thundering as he knew what would happen next. He was not stupid, of course everyone had their limit, and after years went by with a stagnant pace in the relationship — of course you were going to hit it, sooner or later.

"But you are never there, 'Tsumu."

You finally looked at him, and you could feel your heart shattered even more when you saw his expression. He was dumbstruck, tongue-tied. It was as if he knew that this day would happen, but he still didn't want to believe it.

He didn't want to believe that one day you would get tired of being second in his life.

"Does that mean…" He couldn't ask, knowing the answer to his next question. But he needed to make sure. "Does that mean you want to end this?"

The sunlight that slipped in between curtains was the one who woke him up. He hissed as it reached his eyes, forcing him to wake up. But he closed his eyes once again, stirring his body a little to wrap his arms around you, wanting to feel the warm that your body radiated.

Yet he was only met with cold.

And that was the thing that woke him up in an instant.

His breath laboured as he sat on the bed, brown orbs scanning the room that he shared with you. No, you didn’t just leave, right? But he scanned the room, again and again, searching for any kind of sign that you were still there.

Then again, who was he anyway, to know the signs. He was never here, he could count how many nights that he slept here with you. Atsumu didn’t even remember there were any photographs of you and him together hanging on the wall, he didn’t even know the time you decided to put some starlight sticker on the ceiling, he didn’t know what was the difference between this morning and the others.

Though one thing that he knew for sure, you would always be there when he woke up here.

“Then, please. Give me just one day! I just need one day of your life.”

Atsumu knew that this morning would come, when emptiness met him and reality sinked in as he remembered all the flaws that he had. His feet dragged him out from the bedroom that now felt suffocating for him. He needed you, he had to see you.

“But, Atsu—”

“I will prove it to you! I promise that I’ll make things right for you.”

It was so quiet, there was no music playing on the soundbar. You used to play some upbeat songs to fill the silence as you waited for him to show up after shower. Yet as he walked down the stairs, he could only hear his own footsteps.

“And then you can leave. You can sneak out when I am asleep. You know how much of a heavy sleeper I am, right?”

But then, he was right from the start.

“Alright, Atsumu. I will give you one more night.”

You were indeed — a woman of your words.

MASTERLIST

“and it cracks” taglist @roseestuosity @mistypoison @samanthaa-leanne @tycrackculture @aomineavenue @tris-does-stuff @tremblinghearts @p0taytoes @too-many-lanes @ntimacy @sunflwrsandprettyskies @chibichab @tsukkiboii @oikawoahh @hoefor2ds @edvigelacivetta @playboygeniusphilanthropist @wompwomphq @himichii @shoyomeow @miyayane @graykageyama @bakugou-akaashi

#miya atsumu #atsumu miya #miya atsumu x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #miya atsumu angst #atsumu miya angst #haikyuu scenarios #miya atsumu imagines #miya atsumu scenarios

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ecoamerica · 23 days

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aching-tummies · 3 years

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(Not exactly sure if I'm really doing this right but here we go.) If I was your partner... I'd take you someplace nice and encourage you to eat whatever you want. After a large meal I'd be the one to drive home, as your complaining of an upset stomach. Wanting a reaction, I'd take you down the secluded, bumpy road to see what happens.

A/N: Thanks for the lovely ask! I kind of deviated a little, incorporating some of what's been going on in my life lately (new job, stresses causing me to skip meals, the craving for pasta, etc.) The beginnings of this do delve into spiraling about weight(loss) and body image stuff a little...so if that's a trigger for people then this is your warning.

It’s been more than two years since we indulged in dine-in service at a place with non-disposable cutlery. I’ve been craving pasta for even longer than that. Creamy, garlic-y, non-reheated pasta served on a plate and twirled around a metal fork.

We haven’t taken any opportunities to celebrate for the last two years. Birthdays, holidays, promotions at work or major advancements in our career adventures—we’ve barely done anything more than acknowledge them as we both go to pick up extra shifts wherever it is that we have been working. Honestly, we’ve seen so little of each other that it wouldn’t surprise either of us if the other snuck in a job-change in the last two years. That all changes tonight.

A nearby pasta place is offering dine-in service. We booked a reservation for tonight—all you have to do is pick me up from work and we can head on over.

I’m the one that managed to sneak in a job-change in the craziness. Fast-food to office intern. I’m barely handling things. I’ve been beyond exhausted because the change happened suddenly. The office place demanded that I start with them on a whim (despite my only condition on hiring being the time to give my fast-food job the proper two week notice). Due to their abrupt “start now or we will move ahead with other candidates” ultimatum, I’ve been pulling 44+ hour weeks juggling two jobs located on opposite ends of the city.

Tonight is a celebration. Dine-in service by itself is already something to celebrate in my books, but you’re insisting that tonight is for me because I finally finished my dues to the fast-food place. The hellish four weeks of juggling is over. No more calls at midnight from me begging you to pick me up from some random quadrant of the city because I nodded off on the last bus home. No more days where I make it home from my office job only to get an urgent call from the fast-food place begging/demanding that I show up because someone cut work. No more packed weeks with no days off or time to even pack myself lunch. Hopefully no more nights where you have to peel me off of the floor because making it home was all I managed before passing out from exhaustion.

I’ve got an hour before you’re set to come pick me up from my office job. I can’t help but smile as I count down the minutes while working on editing some funding proposal that was shoved at me a couple of minutes ago.

My stomach grumbles at me and I clam up. I blush as I look around to ensure nobody heard it. The office is basically empty. All the other staff seem to have gone off to lunch. That’s something I’m going to have to get used to: the fact that there doesn’t seem to be a set schedule here…people head out to lunch whenever. As a petrified newbie, I haven’t had the guts to just take off whenever. The number of shifts where I’ve stayed here for a full eight hours and then navigated an hour and a half of transit transfers only to come home ravenous is pretty high.

Welp, if a stomach growls and nobody is here to hear it then I guess it doesn’t make a sound. I’ve got an hour left before you come to pick me up and we’re basically just two hours away from satisfying my years long pasta craving. Going out to hunt for food now would only spoil my appetite.

“I AM HERE!”

I giggle at the reference and accompanying gif you’ve sent to announce your arrival. I pack up my area and get up, saying ‘bye’ to Jerry on my way out. The second I walk out that door will mark the start of my days off for the week, something I haven’t had in over a month.

“Hi, sweetie!” I chirp as I open the passenger door and bend over to set down my bag.

As I settle in, folding myself into the car, the movements dislodge a deep rumble from my tummy. I freeze, arm still reaching out to close the door. You snicker at me with your left arm perched on your open window, fingers close to your face and highlighting that charming grin of yours that I love so much.

“Oi, close the door and we can get going.”

I do just that. With the door closed, you carefully back out of the parking space and off we go. We don’t get very far. Ah, the joys of rush hour. No use honking, Karen, you’re not ‘stuck in traffic’—you are traffic and there’s no manager for you to speak to here, moron!

I adjust my seat a little, leaning back and allowing myself to relax. I’ve done it. Tomorrow is a day off. And so is the next day. My first true weekend in over three years and my first days off in over three weeks. I can feel the tension ebbing out of me. My shoulders untense, leaving behind a distinct soreness.

My shoulders aren’t the only thing to stop tensing. Apparently, my abdominals decided to join in as well.

Grrr…RRRR…blr.br…rrr.

I blush and sit up, arms wrapping around my stomach as it continues to snarl at me. The growls come with the sharp pains of hunger pangs and I wince, hugging my tummy and pressing my arms against the pain. The grumbles are quickly drowned out by your laughter.

“Man, no wonder you say your coworkers don’t talk to you here. If I heard that coming from a newbie I’d be scared of ‘em too.”

“S-Shut up!” I don’t want to admit that my tummy has been growling very loudly at the office. I’ve skipped more lunches than I’ve eaten in my time here. I lean back in the seat again, arms crossed over my chest as I look away from you, pouting. I’m hungry enough that my stomach really hurts, I’m a panicking newbie at work that doesn’t know the ropes or what’s expected of them, and here you are teasing me.

Your right hand reaches over but instead of stopping on the shift stick it continues further until your palm finds my stomach. The gentle pressure and the warmth of your palm nudging right over where my stomach joins my intestines aids in the relaxation of my tensed muscles and brings forth another loud grumble from my guts. You move your hand slightly, patting and rubbing my flat tummy absentmindedly as you keep the rest of you focused on traffic.

“You’ve lost weight.”

“Y-Yeah…” I don’t want to admit that I’m happy about it. My waistband was loose enough to fall to my thighs before I put my belt on this morning. I love it but you and I both know weight and eating are sore subjects for me. I bite my tongue to keep from asking whether or not you think the weight loss is a good thing or not. Your tone was flat—it was an observation. The fact that I’ve been too busy and stressed out to have time to eat (or digest properly when I do) has led to the rapid shedding of pounds. Not just in the last three or four weeks, but for a long time yet. The reasons for the weight loss aren’t good…but I really do like the results, so I don’t want to hear it from you…good or bad…I don’t want to hear it. Thankfully, you don’t push the issue. Traffic picks up and you remove your hand from my stomach and put it back on the wheel.

My stomach continues to gripe and snarl as we make our way through the city at a crawl. I no longer have work to distract me and your impromptu massage has definitely woken the beast in my guts. ‘Starving’ doesn’t even begin to cover how my stomach feels. I’m starting to feel the other effects of the lack of food too. Light-headedness, feeling cold, and a limpness in my limbs. I want to press my arms into my stomach to quell some of the ache and the noises but I just can’t seem to summon the strength to put enough pressure on it. I wish you had kept your hand on my tummy. As much as your touch intensified the hunger, the pressure of your hand on my stomach was kind of comforting. Ugh…this is all wrong. We’ve been together long enough to know that both of us are into tummy stuff. Any other opportunity we’d be all over each other right now. Your mention of the weight I’ve lost and the silence that has followed since is filling me with anxiety. Under normal circumstances you’d have parked the car somewhere to tease my hungry tummy into oblivion. The fact that we’re currently driving in silence when there’s a golden kink opportunity in the palm of our hands is worrisome to me. Suddenly I don’t feel so good about the weight I’ve lost. I like it. It made me look totally bomb in my new office clothes. Buttons don’t strain even when I bend over or stretch. I spend the rest of the car ride lost in my anxieties. I’m not at an unhealthy weight. Sure, losing it is a testament of the stress I’ve been under lately…but it’s not like I’ve been intentionally skipping meals or fixating on some unachievable body image or something. This isn’t about the weight or anything, it was just a happy consequence of the hectic times I’ve gone through.

We arrive at the restaurant and you get out, expecting me to follow. I’ve managed to work myself into a ball of anxiety in the passenger seat and I don’t move. You pause on the sidewalk when you see me still strapped inside the car. You walk over and open the passenger door.

“Babe?” You see me petrified and chewing on my lip—a tell-tale sign I’m fighting some internal battle. “What’s wrong?” You cup my cheek with your hand, thumb going to pull my lower lip away from my teeth.

“Huh? Wha?” My gaze sharpens as I’m brought back to reality. I didn’t even realize we’ve arrived.

“What’re you thinking about?”

“Uhm…w-well…y-you said…n-nevermind.” I unbuckle the seatbelt and step out of the car. You frown as you think back on what I meant about you having said something.

“Oh, about the weight loss?” I freeze. Bingo. “Babe—I didn’t mean anything by it, honest. Just an observation.” You scratch at the back of your head. “You’ve been under a lot of stress lately and gosh knows neither of us has had time to cook or pack lunches. I was just thinking that maybe we should work on that together. Going hungry so often sounds like a dream, kink-wise…but neither of us has had time for that lately. I was going to suggest creating a mealplan or something together, maybe bringing out the slow cooker and freezing some stuff so that we can just grab and go for work going forward.” I stumble over and rest my head on your shoulder, giving a slight nod.

I’m overwhelmed. One thing you said sent me spiraling and you just pulled me out of it.

“Ugh…don’t do that again.”

You smirk. “I won’t. Rather than think yourself into a hole over that, you should really think about what it is you want to eat. We’re ordering off the full menu tonight.”

My eyes widen. The full menu has more selection but it’s way more expensive. Every time we’ve come here in the past, we have always ordered off the specials menu—the discounted, half-size portions that they offer. You smile seeing my stunned reaction.

“Birthdays, holidays—and Sweets, you got a job! You got a job where you don’t have to deal with the dreaded ‘customer’. I’m proud of you, Sweets. This…this is supposed to be a celebration…right? For all the celebrating we haven’t been able to do in…damn, how long has it been—” Your rambling is cut off when I seal your lips with mine. I step back with a grin, watching the dumbfounded, wide-eyed expression pass over to you ‘cuz I’m usually the no-kissy-touchy type.

“Chicken parm with garlic, angel-hair pasta in cream sauce.” I know exactly what I want to order. I’ve known it for over two years. That dish has been taunting me in my dreams for over two years. When I chew on my pillow in my sleep ‘cuz I skipped dinner in lieu of sleep I’m dreaming about that dish. The last time I had it from here was with my parents—long before I met you—for a birthday when I was still in grade school. My stomach growls, punctuating my declaration. The sound shocks you out of your reverie and you slide an arm around my waist, resting your palm against my stomach as you feel all the empty rumbles reverberating beneath your palm.

“Alright. Guess we better walk in before they give away our table…or before you decide it’s quicker just to eat me here in the parking lot.”

Ugh…how am I already full? There’s still so much food on the plate. So, so much. Urrgh…

My stomach silently gripes at me. A sickly, sticky feeling is blooming in my guts. I’m sated but there is still far too much food on my plate. The full menu is more expensive, but they fill the plate up more and often use bigger plates. I’ve forgotten just how big, and my tummy is suffering. Two years is a long time to go without something and I’ve gone without fulfilling my craving for pasta in cream sauce for over two years, maybe even three. That’s a long time…long enough for my stomach to forget how to handle cream sauce, apparently.

I’ve only swallowed about a fifth of my plate and my stomach already feels heavy. The warm bread to start and the bites of chicken parmesan cutlet went down alright. They lined my stomach comfortably and my digestive tract knew exactly how to handle them. The first couple of bites of pasta were cushioned by the bread and chicken. When that lining dissolved away and more of the pasta came into contact with my gastric juices, I realized there was a problem.

My stomach pounced on the bites of bread and the water and cola I chased it down with. I could practically feel my duodenum yawning wide to suck in the masticated bread, my intestines just as hungry for it as I have been all day. When it had to contend with the cream sauce things started to slow down. I can feel a backlog of stuff sitting in my stomach, refusing to be broken down further into a form that will comfortably move onto my intestines. I’m chewing a lot more, my mouth creating more saliva. I feel sick. My stomach doesn’t hurt, yet, but it’s definitely going to as it fights with the creamy, oily pasta.

“Ooh…they’ve got tiramisu here.” You’re eyeing the dessert menu. “It’s your favorite, right?”

“Yeah…but it’s expensive and this is a lotta food.”

“We’re supposed to be celebrating, Sweets. We’ll take whatever you don’t finish to-go. Leftovers are a Godsend, remember? C’mon, let’s live a little.”

I feel a weight settle in my stomach as you flag down a passing wait-staff and order a tiramisu. To share, thank God. My stomach churns in vain, serving only to churn up the mess of creamy pasta and chicken without moving it along further in the digestive process. The sphincter to my duodenum is squeezed tight, refusing passage to the foreign cream and oil mix that it doesn’t seem to recognize.

I managed to finish just under half of my plate before the dessert arrived. I decided to throw in the towel and asked for the rest to be packed up to-go. I put on a smile as we share the dessert and hope it’s not as shaky as my guts feel. The dessert is delicious. Rich, flavorful, and perfect. If only I didn’t have to feel it sickeningly sliding down my esophagus, plopping down heavily into a stomach crammed much too full with indigestible pasta. As my stomach clenches and churns things around the creamy tiramisu is going to get incorporated with the rest of the mess. It’s going to make it thicker and creamier…as if it wasn’t already too thick and too creamy for my duodenum to open up and allow it to wreak havoc in my intestines. As sick as my overstuffed stomach feels, I am a little grateful that my duodenum is being a stubborn prick.

If the creamy mess had passed into my intestines, I’d be doubled over in the bathroom right now, rubbing futilely at my revolting intestines. I know what dairy does to my guts. It doesn’t usually happen, just when I’m stressed or it’s close to that time of the month. It’s nasty and it hurts bad enough that I honestly think hell is enduring those cramping intestines for eternity.

We finish the tiramisu. You offer me the lion’s share, but I refuse and push it back to you with a mention on my stomach being really full. I bring my hands to my stomach and I catch the way your eyes smolder at the sight. Good. Yes. Get us home quickly, darling.

You pay for the meal, and we are off. I clutch my tummy behind my bag as we walk out to the car. Every step sends aftershocks into my guts and it’s really upsetting things in my stomach.

As I settle in the passenger seat, I notice the buttons on my blouse are a little bit strained around my stomach. Horror sets in and I quickly fumble to get the buttons undone. I don’t want to ruin my shirt and the sight of the straining buttons triggers something nasty in my mind. I calm down a little once the buttons are undone and I rub my tummy under the cover of my bag, palms running up and down the dark undershirt that is draped snugly over my full belly.

“It’s still early. Want to really paint the town red and see if we can catch a movie somewhere?”

I swallow back a sickly belch to answer your question, my questing hands churning up the mess in my guts and dislodging air pockets.

“Umph…n-no…let’s go home.”

“Sweets, you okay?” Your voice is laced with concern. Surely you can hear the sickly squelching from my guts. Do I have to spell it out for you?

“Hmm? No,” I blush as I fidget and grapple with whether or not to come clean. I’m shy about this kind of stuff—you’re my partner though and have been for a long time—we’re both into tummy stuff—we haven’t done anything on this front in a very long time. Making my decision, I move my back over to the floor, resting it against my shins and I lean back, allowing you full view of my distended tummy with my blouse undone. “I just…uhm…m-my tummy’s kinda…upset…I just really want to get home.” My stomach burbles sickly throughout our conversation. I have both my hands on the rounded curve of it, rubbing at tender spots with my thumbs.

Your eyes widen at the sight of my belly rounding out my undershirt. You start the car and pull out of our stall. Instead of righting the car onto the road you keep backing into a more secluded spot on the far end of the lot. This one is obscured by an overgrown bush or tree on the passenger side.

I haven’t even bothered with getting my seatbelt on. I was too caught up in my indigestion to think of it despite it normally being a habit. To be fair, I don’t think the seatbelt is a good idea with my tummy so bloated and sore.

“What are you—”

You unbuckle your seatbelt and turn in your seat, giving me your full attention. My seat is still reclined a little further than normal from the drive over. Gently, you put a hand on my shoulder, indicating for me not to sit up. Your eyes briefly meet mine and convey your plan before they go back to fixating on my belly.

I relax my arms, letting them rest at my sides as you slide a hand over the crest of my bloated gut. I bite back a groan as the slight pressure of your hand increases the pressure in my intestines. My stomach is packed full with an indigestible mass of creamy pasta. My duodenum is not allowing any of that entry into my intestines so they sit, bloated with air. The ingredients for a very upset tummy are inside of me…they just need a bit of a push to act as a catalyst.

The push comes in the form of a literal push as you place both hands, one on each side of my tummy, and squeeze. I bite back a mewl of pain until the pressure relents and you are sliding your hands all over my taut tummy.

“Oh my…you really are full.”

“Ugh…haven’t…haven’t eaten so much in a long time.” I groan as your hands churn up the mess in my guts. You know what you’re doing. You felt the firmness in my upper left and you know that everything is sitting heavy in my stomach. You focus your massage on my left, on the area where my duodenum is. You rub and nudge and coax at the area, intent on getting the sphincters to unclench and allow my meal to continue to digest.

“Oh…ah!” I can’t help but cry out a little as I feel my duodenum flood with the lumpy mess. A rumbling, wet burble indicates when the sphincter finally gives up and allows the mess in my stomach passage. My stomach acid wasn’t enough to break down the creamy, oily pasta so it’s entering my intestines relatively undigested.

After ten minutes of you massaging my belly, (in)digestion is in full swing. My intestines are filling up with the ache-inducing mass and the straining pressure that started in my stomach has now spread all over my abdomen. You reach over and pull down my seat belt, buckling it before reaching over to get my seat back into an upright position. My stomach cramps sharply with the change in orientation and my mewl of pain is cut off by a harsh belch. You pat my tummy almost teasingly as you right yourself in your seat and start the car.

I don’t bother to keep track of where we are heading. You could be taking me to the movies, intent on letting my indigestion stew for a couple of hours, or you could be driving us home. I don’t care. I can’t care because every ounce of me is focused on the sharp pains exploding all over my guts as the car hits every bump in the road. Damned city not bothering to spend money to fix the thousands of pot-holes in our roads. My stomach is just as vocal as I am about the indigestion.

You brake sharply, causing the seatbelt to dig into my tummy and tear a sharp gasp of pain from me. I see the road ahead of us…it’s not a road at all but literally the worst road in our city. This stretch of road is famous even outside of our city for just how bumpy and nasty it is. People scrape the undercarriage of their cars if they aren’t careful in avoiding the potholes that litter this thing like craters on the moon. People have lost pieces of their cars and done massive damage to their vehicles by driving down this road. People around here know to avoid this road. The alternative is a ten minute detour to take the safer, newer road and everyone agrees that ten minutes more is better than damaging their car on this road so it is always empty.

“Darling, no—”

You floor it, going down the secluded road at a high speed. We hit every bump and hole in the thing (that won’t damage the car)…you used to come down this thing often and you’re a master at navigating it to avoid damage to the vehicle. Damage to my tummy, on the other hand.

My stomach gives off aborted grumbles and gripes, each one interrupted as we hit another bump in the road. My tummy sloshes and churns. Digestion had stalled without your hands pushing everything along, but this new form of “massage” in the form of a very bumpy ride is kick starting things all over again…in the wrong direction. Stuff swirls inside of my stomach and I swear that it’s filling up rather than emptying. The pressure is building in my stomach. I’d like to believe it’s the air from my intestines, but I’m sure we managed to get most of that out with your massage in the parking lot.

"Ugh…ouch…ah—ow! Ungh…my tummy…urp…my tummy…ulp…” I can’t help it. Belches and protests roll through my throat, unchecked. It’s better than the alternative of something solid, I guess. The road has increased the upset tenfold as I clutch my stomach in both hands. The road has dialed the cramping pains up to eleven and many more aches and tender spots have erupted thanks to the bumpy ride. We’re about halfway through the road when I feel something solid tickling at my esophagus.

“Ugh—Babe—STOP!” I reach up and slap a hand over my mouth, fearing that we’re about to see my dinner come back out.

You slam on the brakes and the pressure from the seatbelt is what does it. My mouth fills with the sour mess of barely-digested pasta.

“Ugh…urk…” I swallow back the bile. It’s nasty, but there’s no receptacle and I don’t want to stink up the car. Luckily, this wasn’t a true vomiting session triggered internally—it was basically regurgitation brought on by external factors—like the seatbelt putting too much pressure on my over-packed tummy. My stomach snarls violently at the return of the sickly concoction.

You watch my struggle, fascinated. Reaching over, you put a hand on my palm, a hand that is quickly slapped away as I give you the fiercest glare I can muster.

“None of that until you get me home, darling.”

You grin, exaggerating taking your foot off of the brake pedal. I realize my poor phrasing a moment too late.

“As you command, Sweets.”

“Darling, no—”

#AT Asks #indigestion #tummy kink #tummy ache

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lilkermit14 · 3 years

Text

Lavender & Mint

Fem!reader x Pero Tovar

Synposis: In the conventional village of Cullfield lived an unconventional woman who served as an apothecary for the townsfolk. Stubborn and set in her ways, the woman of three tens remains unmarried and childless and plans to continue as such for the rest of her life, much to the horror and confusion of the village. But this unconventional woman has some surprises in store for her when an unconventional man named Pero Tovar rides into town, an event that will change both her and his plans forever—and may flip Cullfield upside down too.

Notes: Idk why I kept mentioning poop complications this chapter but I’m sorry and enjoy. It’s been a while but the CHAPTER is here. Please reblog!!!!

General Warnings: minor injuries, slow-burn, eventual smut, blood, childbirth

For this chapter: Non-sexual references to poop, mention pregnancy, murder, implicit brief reference to infanticide or child abandonment, pre-marital pregnancy and it’s complications in the 1400s, religious “morals”.

Chapter 5: Garlic

Last chapter // Next chapter

“When was the last time you passed bowels, Mister Ashdown?” you inquire, pressing on the old man’s stomach knowing you have found the root cause of his stomach issues. He blinks for a moment thinking as he lays on your observation table, before telling you, “quite some time I’m afraid.”

“I see,” you move your hands away putting your hands on your hips, “well, it seems that you just have a case of constipation––burdensome but not something hard to fix or that will have you laying on your deathbed.”

“You sure?” he asks, almost confused, moving to rise up from the table by himself only for you to come to his assistance. You clarify yourself, “Yes, you have many signs that point to it. It can be caused by a lack of competitive foods in your diet and is more likely with old age.”

“I’m not that old,” He interjects, but you compete, “Yes, but you're old enough for a blockage sir––you’ll be glad to know you’ll live to be truly old as long the burden is treated.”

He huffs now in a sitting position with legs dangling from the table, “so what do you have so i’ll shit.”

You huff at his language, “standard garlic will help move the process along, and I’m suggesting you make sure to eat more greens and berries to clear your system.”

You always assumed that you were let free to discuss any matters with your patients when they were the only ones in the shop, as no one else resided in your residence besides you. But that arrangement had changed and you were not the only one that resided in your home, “If my cock and bowels stop working just have someone put me out of my misery.”

You turn rigid and scandalized to see the face of Pero Tovar standing in your back entrance of the shop—entered unbeknownst to you through quiet steps and a lack of clear view. Mister Ashdown has no qualms defending himself, “I’m only five tens and if my cock doesn’t work how is my wife pregnant?”

You want to scream having to hear this conversation and did certainly not want to be reminded of the conversations you were subjected to by Farrah Ashdown. When the woman at four tens and five found out she was pregnant she spared no expense in telling you how it happened. You opted to rush him along before you could get his account of what he does with his wife, “okay sir here’s your supply get going now.”

“Enjoy the shit,” you hear Pero say and before mister ashdown can respond he is out your door. You turn to Pero fury and rage evident on your face as you are prepared to let the flames of hell loose on him. All he has is a stupid look on his face as he lets out the word, “what?”

“You bastard,” you begin pointing your finger at him moving towards him with menace in your voice towards a man that stands unbothered, “you do not talk to ANY of my clients in such manner especially in my shop.”

“Why is that hermosa? I would be rude to that man outside of your business, what makes your apothecary different?” He queries again with that name, only increasing your anger and distaste for him at the moment. With clenched teeth, you answer him, “I don’t care what you say to Mister Ashdown in town, but my shop is a place of respect––a place where anyone can come for health problems even if they are embarrassing. I want people to know they won’t be judged here because if they feel like they will be, they will come when it’s too late and I can’t do anything for them.”

Pero raises his brow at you, but lets you continue your rant uninterrupted, “When my mother was still alive, a young woman at ten and six came to us complaining of diarrhea, something she was embarrassed to talk about because it was gross and she did not want suitors to find out. Turns out she had sickness from a miasma––we took one look down the town well and discovered a deer had fallen in and died overnight.”

“That was lucky,” he comments, still invested in your story despite the vile nature of talking about excretion. You continue, “Yes, and we may not have caught it so soon if she didn’t come to us. The sickness is fast acting, in hours many more villagers could have been sick, but it was only her––and she lived.”

“Lived?” you smile at his question feeling pride at the healing powers your mom had and hope you live up to, “Yes, the sickness causes dehydration quickly but if you keep the person well hydrated and area clean to prevent reinfection––they will live. This summer she gave birth to her third child at my aid.”

“So their trust is important to you?” you give him a simple nod, glad he is understanding what you were asking of him. You turn to clean up the materials you had brought out to examine Mister Ashdown, not realizing that Pero was not done with questions, “Like how that woman came to you the other day crying in distress?”

You freeze––you had really thought the interest in Mariam had ended when William had first asked you about her the day after asking if she was okay. You nodded and told him it was just feminine needs and didn’t serve much interest in men, something that usually turned men away from asking questions. Well not Pero Tovar I guess, “Why was she crying?”

“It’s a complicated matt––”

“Things of safety are something I have to worry about you know,” He interjects, and you turn your head looking at him to see something serious cross his face, “I have to keep everyone in this village safe––you in particular hermosa––and I want to know if theres something you need to tell me.”

“Part of gaining trust is not telling personal information,” you counter, pulling together to formulate a lie, “It’s nothing of safety she was upset about something––she’s a friend of sorts to me.”

You can tell he doesn’t buy it––he can probably pull the full story together even though you doubt he’s heard a single thing about Mariam’s husband beating her––but he accepts, slouching and learning against a table in thought, “William and I may go for a short hunt––there's not much action in this town I’m afraid and we could use some fresh game.”

You nod, “If you catch any pigeon, I know how to handle it so it's not gamey.”

He huffs, “We're not very good hunters I’m afraid, so you’ll probably only get that or rabbit.”

–––––––––––––––––––

Pero Tovar had useful traits to him––like getting you pigeons––but he was mostly an annoyance. His mere presence always had you on edge, as you waited for something, something from him. It was usually something he said but if not it was his scent or stench rather of pine and something that was him. It was also his sloppy manner, the way he seemed raised with no table manners as he ate all your meals. He spoiled Mite, petting him and feeding him table scraps much to your despair. He was also too loud, his boots filling up the cottage and shop with noise, something that never usually happened.

You lent some time today to make more bread for the household, settling at your dining table and working the necessary ingredients for dough together. Mite lays in the corner, not doing his job as per usual and watching you with some sort of interest in the mannerisms of bread making, but he was likely just hoping for more food in the future. Kneading dough you begin to imagine the dough is Pero kneading your frustration into it. You press and it is his stupid broad shoulders that take up too much space. You pull, it’s the curls on the nape of his neck that are too unruly and untidy. You slam it down, it’s that stupid smile that appears on his face when you have entertained him. God you hate Pero Tovar.

“You may want to stop before you overwork the dough sweetheart,” You stop and see Mildred Becker staring at you with an amused look on her face. You huff Jesus, what does she want, “Sorry for my state, I didn’t hear you enter.”

“Don’t worry I understand too well––I always work out my anger into the dough,” you chuckle a little thinking about how a woman with too many children works out anger the same way as you––you definitely hate Pero Tovar, “I just stopped by because I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something.”

You perk up, “Is Cateline suffering from baby blues again.”

“No, No thank the lord––we’ve been watching over her better this time,” Mildred rounds off, and you remember despite the grievances she gives you, she is a good mother to her children. She was the first to notice that something was wrong with her daughter after the birth and came to you to talk about it. From there Cateline was able to recover and enjoy motherhood, “Something with your house guest Pero Tovar has come to my attention.”

“What did he do,” You ask, prepared to beat Pero Tovar with your broom, but Mildred settles you, “nothing he did, just something someone is doing around him.”

You raise your brow at her beckoning her to continue, “You know Stanislava Rolfe?”

“Of course,” you affirm, surprised she is asking you such a question when you have treated everyone in Cullfield five times over. Mildred continues, “Yes well, She has begun to work at the Inn as a barmaid––she did well with charming Balthasar I guess.”

You were wondering why a poor farmer's daughter’s career path interested you, but you didn’t interject, “I happened to take a quick ale there with my husband, when I noticed something with her and Pero Tovar. You see she appeared extra flirtatious with him––and although barmaids usually are flirty with men in hopes for extra coin, it was more intentional.”

You frown, how could such a beautiful young girl be interested in such a disgusting brute, “Why is she interested in him?”

“Who knows? Many of the girls around Cullfield were excited to see unfamiliar battle-hardened men I supposed,” She ponders for a moment, “all we do know is that she is likely interested in him.”

“I don’t think he is interested in taking a wife,” You contest, brushing aside that Pero would have feelings for the young girl of two tens. Mildred just gives you a hardened stare, “He doesn’t have to be interested in matrimony to want something from her.”

“Was he showing interest back?” you dig trying to figure out the full extent of what you are formulating must be a whirlwind romance. Mildred hums, “no I suppose not, but sometimes men take persistent interest as a way to have a good time.”

You bite your lip remembering that Pero did not fornicate with prostitutes but barmaids, and feel a ball of ache and pain in your stomach at the thought. Mildred instates, “I came to you about this because I want you to try to stop it.”

“Stop it?”

“Yes, make it clear he is to not have such guests,” Mildred explains, and you can tell by her tone and expression you are in for some sort of story, “You know well enough that things go arigh when an unmarried woman gets pregnant, right.”

“Of course,” you remember the chaos that erupted in families when one of their daughters ended up pregnant, and the hasty weddings that came from it. But Mildred had a different story, “although most of the time it gets swept under the rug with a quick marriage and everyone just chooses to ignore it––horrid things can happen when there's not one.”

Mildred sits down at the nearby table, in clear thought of something dark and you go to sit down at a nearby chair, “When I was about ten and eight, and old enough to understand these things, a girl was taken advantage of by a soldier in our village. She was ten and six, and him far older so he should have had the wisdom not to mess with her. What mattered was after it happened, he left with his troop and was never seen in my home village again. She got pregnant, and tried to hide it at first––her mom was dead and she had no older sisters or aunts to go to, so she was afraid to go to her father. When it became too obvious, hate inspired awful things in the leaders of the village, and by the time she gave birth it accumulated.”

Mildred takes a moment to pause, emotions brewing inside her and you feel yourself frozen in place, “she tried to talk to them, pleading, saying he pressured her––persuaded her, but they all pointed and said witch and condemned her son too. She was burn’t at the stake, and her son––well he was never seen again.”

A pause fills the air as you sit in shock, digesting what Mildred has told you, “I’m sorry you had to witness that.”

Mildred huffs, “I’m sorry too, I made sure to get a husband that would get me out of that village and landed a good one on the way––I had seen what that village did to women and children for the sake of moral value and did not intend to stay so my daughters could see too. Adultery is a two person crime that only one party, the feminine one, receives punishment for.”

“So that's why Pero and Stanislava are of such concern to you?” You assume, and Mildred nods, “Although I think Cullfield is of better standing, I don’t desire to find out what they would do if such a case erupted. The girl may be doing this because she intends to capture a man with a better job, but mercenaries rest for a few women and not those of ten and eight.”

“I can understand her intentions I suppose,” you contemplate, believing that she doesn’t hold much true interest in him, but for a better life. Mildred hums, “so is there a chance you can talk to Pero about it?”

“I already established that he is to not bring guests into my home, and I doubt they would find a secluded enough place otherwise,” you reassure, standing up, “I can even remind him today if you would like.”

“That would be good,” Mildred agrees, joining you in standing and allowing you to guide her to the door, “be on the lookout too if you see her come preying––even though he lacks true interest.”

“I will,” you say, and somewhere in your heart you feel prepared to beat Stanislava Rolfe with your broom instead of Pero.

________________

Gardening was no easy task but it was the most necessary task the runner of an apothecary and a household had. Today your tending to crops was more focused on your food supply rather than collecting the necessary ingredients to keep your shop running. You're pleased to see that the last of your harvest grew well, and know that your winter stock will last even with your house guest. You had already pulled out all the carrots, and beets, and had shucked the vines wounding your house of beans and brussel sprouts. You were now left to work at the tough vines of the gourds and squash, planning on leaving the single pumpkin for Pero to handle––who should be on his way home from helping Balthasar with something at his inn.

Standing up with the final gourd in hand––you see something that fills you with immediate displeasure and sickens you to your core. Pero is walking up to your house pursued by Stanislava. You don’t quite know why you feel this angry at him; maybe it’s because you gave him explicit reminders on conduct or maybe––something else. Seeing the near, and well hearing Stanislava, you attempt to think fast to try to get her to leave. Greeting them both in an unnatural kind manner, “Pero, Stanislava, greetings.”

Pero gives you an immediate strange look while his shadow is oblivious and greets you back, “I was just telling Pero this wonderful stor––”

“Oh I must ask how is your rash healing up,” You feel like clapping your hands over your lips the moment the words fly out of your mouth. Stanislava stops in her tracks staring at you blankly, “what?”

“The one I gave you the ointment for––on your groin,” Oh my God what were you doing.

Stanislava turns bright red, “Good thank you––I––I have things to tend to at home, good evening you two.”

Stanislava hurries off, and an amused smile erupts on Pero’s face, “thank you for finally scaring that crow off––she’s been yapping my ear off with nonsense for weeks––I guess you're my scarecrow.”

“Excuse me?” scarecrow, you were going to kill this man. He smiles, a genuine smile, “Yes you scared off my crow––like a scarecrow would. Plus you're covered in leaves right now.”

“Do not call me that”

“Fine mi espantapájaros”

“I swear I’ll smother you in your sleep”

“Is that a true promise for you? Like how you promised not to tell customers private information yet just shouted about the crow’s crotch rash,” at that your body works on it’s own, taking the gourd in your hand and flinging it at Pero’s chest. It was a magnificent shot, and caused the vegetable to break and splatter it’s internal organs onto Pero’s chest and neck. Pero steps back from the impact and looks down on the goop he’s now covered in, “Now, no good espantapájaros does that.”

You press your palm to your face, “Just cut the pumpkin for me and bring it inside, you could use a good bath anyway, your stench is disgusting.”

“I do not smell,” he retorts, and you ignore him, bringing inside your harvest. You really do hate Pero Tovar.

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

Apothecary’s feelings––hate or nah yall?

Garlic is use to treat a lot of ailments in Arab traditional medicine, including heart disease, high blood pressure, arthritis, toothache, infections, and––as seen in this fic––constipation. Listen, I know the constipation part is true because I ate a pesto made with raw garlic and LORD did I shit. Anything else, not quite sure but hey worth a shot if you are desperate.

It is also seen as an immune booster for colds and coughs––in fact if you are congested from a cold putting a clove of garlic in each nostril can clear that shit OUT.

Garlic is also believed to help asthma symptoms. IDK if it actually is true but that’d be iconic because my mom loves garlic and she has asthma.

Garlic is my favorite seasoning. I put it in my soup. I put it in my eggs. I put it in my ramen. I put it in my burgers. I put it in my cooch––

taglist:

@poenariuniverse @harleyamidala @yespolkadotkitty @storiesofthefandomlovers @babybelou @legally-a-bastard @computeringturtle @clydesducktape @sixties-loser @buckysalefty @april-14-blog @prettylittlegoldfish @softpedropascal @maybege

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i-simp-for-gintoki · 3 years

Text

Sanji and Ace meeting fem!s/o’s parents for the first time

I accidentally deleted the request like the idiot i am, so basically it was “Ace and Sanji meeting their fem!s/o’s parents for the first time, but the s/o gets upset at an embarrasing/mean thing the parents said towards her boyfriend(s)”

Sorry for the long wait! Time flew by way faster than i thought it would and i really struggled with this lmao. Hope this is to your liking! If not just let me know and i’ll do my best to fix it!

I didn’t rlly know how to end these im sorry, um i made sanji’s more angsty than needed because i just did but oh well

Warnings: like one swear word, your dad is kinda a dick and disapproving of your relationship in sanji’s

Portgas D. Ace

He would not dress up, instead simply putting on an unbuttoned shirt instead of remaining shirtless

He might- might take off the hat but thats only if you REALLY want him too

I think he would be pretty relaxed about meeting your parents

You on the other hand was not

I mean dont get me wrong Ace is a sweetheart and all, but he also can be pretty gross without meaning too

You two were planning on heading to your parent’s house so Ace could finally meet them, so in the meantime you told him to keep a few promises

“No using anyones clothing as napkins, finish chewing before talking, and if they say something that annoys you please don’t fight them.”

He’d give you a thumbs up and a smile as he said he’d keep the promise

So here you guys are, in front of where your parents lived

Knocking on the door, it only took a few seconds for them to show up

As Ace introduced himself he bowed and had a bright smile

Your parents smiled back and let you two in

So far so good

All of you were just relaxing in the living room, your parents sat across from where you and Ace sat

Your parents listened as Ace told a bunch of stories about his life, it mainly consisted of the trouble he’d get in with his brothers or how he met and fell in love with you but he was having fun sharing them

Your parents seemed to be enjoying his company and that made you happy

After talking for a while your mother decided to make a quick meal for everyone in which Ace asked if he could help a bit

Your dad decided to put him in charge of setting the table

He had almost dropped a plate in the process but he got it done and wore a proud smile

It wasn’t long until you guys began to ate and you could tell Ace was definitely holding back from how he usually acted

“Whats the point of forks when i can grab it so much faster using my hands?” he mumbled to no one in particular

What really surprised you was that he made sure to properly chew his food before speaking

You were really happy that he was keeping his word but sadly all good things come to an end

“Wow! Mrs.L/n your food is really--”

THUNK

He passed out.

He passed out face first into his plate and your parents could only stare

You could only sigh as you tilted his face so he doesn’t manage to suffocate

“Oh my, is he okay?” your mom asked in a worried tone and you nodded your head

“Ah yeah he’s fine. Hes a narcoleptic thats all. He’ll wake up any moment”

And not even a few seconds later, Ace straightened up and continued eating like nothing even happened

Your mother laughed

“Oh wow! He reminds me of a baby!”

“Mom!”

He rose a brow at the two of you, unaware of what you were talking about, food still smeared onto his face

You clicked your tongue and grabbed a napkin before wiping his face

“See he is like a little kid” she repeated and you rolled your eyes in response

Ace’s eyes widened a bit as he finally understood what happened

“Did I pass out again?”

“You passed out again.”

He rubbed the back of his head and gave an apology to your mom who in return laughed loudly

“Oh no worries dear, when y/n was younger she would pull countless all nighters and end up doing the same thing”

“Mooom stop it”

“Oh shush this is all light hearted fun”

As your dad started a separate conversation, Ace grabbed your hand under the table and smiled

He was having fun, even if you guys were being teased

Vinsmoke Sanji

Idk how i feel about this one rip

He was a bit nervous yet excited

He couldn't wait to meet the people who raised you, but he was worried if they wouldn’t like him

He chose to wear one of his best suits and cologne despite your protests

“Sanji its just my parents, you don’t need to be any more fancy than usual” “Nonsense, i should take it seriously so your parents can see im serious about you.”

He’d insist on making dinner for them

Once your parents arrive he puts on a charming smile and introduces himself

Skip to dinner, Sanji made sure to sit everyone down and serve them

Some nice small talk was made when suddenly one of your parents asks him if Sanji truly loves you

An instant “of course!” was heard from Sanji before he started listing hundreds of things he loves about you

Honestly he said a bit much since he strayed off from personality and perks to more your physical appearance and more

You had to kick his leg under the table to get him to stop

Your dad put his fork down and looked at you

“I don’t want you dating him”

“Can i ask why?” you ask

“Sounds to me your boyfriend is simply a pervert. He’s probably just after your body”

Now this Sanji got upset at but you acted first

“Seriously?? Did you listen to anything he said just now? Yeah he appreciates my looks but he clearly loves me for who i am, do you only hear things that make you upset or something?”

You were hoping it would stop right there but no, of course your dad had to say some more huh

“Isn’t he just some chef anyways? Its not like they make a bunch of money, he’s probably mooching off of you”

You stood up so fast your chair was knocked down

“How dare you say that about Sanji? Hes not just some chef, he’s one of the best out there. That doesn’t even matter actually, good chef, bad chef, he would NEVER mooch off of someone. Using people, especially women is completely against his character! Sanji has been nothing but nice to you tonight, and here you are completely shitting on him!”

You huff and wave your hand, mumbling how you wanted some fresh air before heading outside

It was only a few seconds before Sanji joined you

“How are you doing love?” He’d ask and you’d whirl around and face him in surprise

“How am I doing? Sanji they were saying bad things about you! Im SO sorry about that, my dads usually not that much of an asshole and-anyways, How are you doing??”

He’d chuckle and assure you he’s fine

“I’m not gonna lie, i was pretty upset when he said i was using you for my own gain. But seeing you stand up for me, getting upset for me really warmed my heart.”

He’d give you a hug while slowly rubbing your back

“But what do i do about him not approving? What if he says to break up??” you ask and sanji tilts your chin up towards him

“Who cares? We are all adults here, its not like his disapproval will suddenly stop the love we have for each other.”

You slowly nod at his words and he smiles before giving you a quick kiss

“Now lets head back in and finish dinner” “Oh but its going to be so awkward now” you complain but you still walk with him back inside

When you guys return to the table, your mother shoves your dads shoulder which made him stand and walk up to Sanji

Before the blond can open his mouth, your dad is already apologizing

“Look, Im sorry about what I said. It was harsh and based on my daughters reaction, clearly untrue. I just dont like to see my kid grow up, much less dating someone. Just promise me one thing, Sanji. Promise me you wont break her heart” he says putting a hand out

Sanji gave him a nod and a firm handshake.

“I promise. I would never be able to live with myself if I did”

#ace x reader #sanji x reader #portgas d ace #vinsmoke sanji #one piece x reader #couldve just had them make fun of sanji's eyebrow or somethin but nooo i had to be dramatic smh #dumpling writes

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themadlostgirl · 3 years

Text

When It’s Cold (9)

*School is out! Writers block is over! I have finally updated! It’s a good day. Have some soft Felix mixed with a little smut.*

~~~

Felix was able to keep his cool up until he closed your bedroom door. Then he promptly dropped to the floor with his face buried in his hands. All he had meant to do was check to see what you wanted for lunch! How did it go from something so innocent to something so salacious in that quick a turn?

You had been behaving weird that morning and he was concerned something was wrong. When he came downstairs to find you though he realized exactly what was going on. He knew that he should have turned away and leave you to your privacy but he couldn’t look away. It was just like that night he had heard you outside your bedroom door except this time he had a visual as well.

Next thing he knew he was kneeling on the floor with his head between your legs. For as much as he thought about devouring you, actually doing it was another thing entirely. All he had were the fantasies in his head to guide him. But when you responded so beautifully to him he found his confidence surging. It made him so happy to know that he was making you feel good. Amazing even. That’s what you had said anyway. You felt amazing.

After that day you took his words to heart and did not hesitate to tell him when you were horny as all hell. Which turned out to be often. Not that he was complaining. He wanted you just as much as you wanted him.

You had not gotten to the point where you asked him for proper sex though. A few times he thought you would but you always asked for something else. It was obvious that you both wanted each other and you two had already done so much together he was wondering why you were holding back on this. Not that he was going to rush you into it. He said he would go at your pace and he meant that. Still, he had to wonder what was going on in that brain of yours that you would keep denying each other what you both clearly wanted.

It was late in the morning. You and Felix had yet to get out of bed. It was a dreary day outside and the warmth of the blankets was too cozy to leave. You were nestled under Felix’s arm, eyes closed, still in that pocket of drowsiness where you were aware of the world but had yet to greet it properly. He figured now was a good as time as any to find out why you avoided sex proper.

“Darling,” He spoke softly so not to disturb the hazy peace you were wrapped in, “Can I ask you something?”

“Hmm?” you hummed, burrowing closer into him.

“Do you not want to have sex?”

That got your attention. Your eyes squinted open to look at him. “What?”

“I only ask because we’ve been doing quite a lot of other stuff but you’ve never asked me to make love to you. Do you just not want to or are you not ready?”

“Oh um…” Your face was hot to the touch.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“It’s not that. I just...I was kinda…” You closed your eyes again, “I’ve been waiting for you to be ready.”

“Waiting for me? Why would you be waiting for me to be ready? What makes you think that I’m not ready?”

“Well you never initiate anything so…”

“Because I didn’t want to pressure you into doing something you didn’t want to do.”

“Also, we’ve been messing around for weeks now and you have never once let me blow you, even though I have offered.”

“Not this again,”

“I’m curious as to why you are so opposed to the idea. I thought that was supposed to be a thing boys liked.”

“It is but I don’t know how I feel about kissing the same mouth that had my dick in it.”

“How is that any different from you kissing me after you go down on me?”

“Ah...I see your point.” he was blushing, honest to god blushing.

Felix couldn’t bring himself to voice his other concern. He had fantasized about you taking him in your mouth before but he was worried that in practice he would get lost in his hormones and end up being too rough with you. He didn’t want to hurt you after all.

“Felix,” you snuggled closer to him, “I want to have all this with you but you can’t rely on me to start everything. Take some initiative. This isn’t just about me, this is about you too. I want to make you feel good and please you too. Okay?”

“You unravel me,” Felix grabbed you and rolled you over so he was on top of you. Your body was pushed deeper into the mattress as he hungrily sought your mouth with his. You always tasted so sweet. Even first thing in the morning.

Your legs hooked around his hips pushing him closer. His cock started to stir and he groaned as he started rutting against you, desperate for more of the sweet friction between your bodies. An animalistic side of him wanted tear the clothes from your body and pound into you with rough, reckless abandon. The sane part of him let those thoughts stay in his head as he continued to grind against your clothed sex.

You panted and moaned underneath him and it spurred him on more. That voice in his head telling him he was doing something good. He was making you feel nice. He was doing a good job.

He lavished hot kisses to your neck that had you crying out in pleasure. Your own hips met his as you frantically chased your growing pleasure. His own orgasm was starting to peak and fast if he didn’t slow down at all. But he didn’t want to. Everything felt too good. But he wanted you to finish first. Always you first.

He pulled your shirt up so he had access to your chest and sucked greedily on the bud of your soft, supple tits. “Felix, fuck!” you moaned loudly. You were getting closer. Your grinding becoming clumsier as you neared your peak.

He moved back up to your neck, gently nipping at the lobe of your ear as he ground against you harder. You held him tighter, like a snake coiled around its prey. God he loved it.

“Touch yourself,” he told you, “Touch yourself for me, baby.”

One of the hands holding onto him slipped underneath the band of your sleep pants and swiped at your clit in graceless fast circles. “Good girl,” he praised, “Such a good girl,”

“Felix!” you moaned louder, “Close! So close! I need to--need to--”

“I know, baby. Almost there,” He pulled back so he was staring at your face. He loved watching your expression when you fell apart. “Look at me,” your eyes opened so you were looking directly into his eyes, “I want you looking at me when you cum. Come on, baby. Be a good girl and cum for me.”

“Felix! Shit! Fuck! Yes! Yes! Please!” He watched in rapture as your orgasm overcame you and the intelligence behind your eyes disappeared as pleasure overtook you. God, it was so satisfying seeing that expression on you.

Felix wasn’t too far off now and his need was only getting worse. “Felix,” you touched his face as some semblance of lucidity returned to you, “Do what you need to to make yourself feel good okay? I’m not gonna break. I want you to feel good too.”

“Damn woman,” he grabbed you by the hips and pushed against your clothed sex harder. He could feel the faint wetness that had soaked through your pants with your orgasm. It was like a flipped got switched in him. Those animalistic feelings before creeping up again as he ground against you faster, harder, rougher, chasing his own pleasure with no regard for anything else. He came with a shout of your name, still rutting against you in more slow and gentle movements as he rode out the high.

It had left a mess in his pants but that was hardly a problem right now. “Is that what you wanted, little girl?” Felix asked, his voice gravelly.

“Mmhmm,” You held him closer, pressing soft kisses along his shoulder and neck. “And I bet it felt damn good too, didn’t it?”

“So good, darling,” he cracked a lopsided smile. “How does pancakes sound for breakfast?”

“Yes please!”

The next night was the night of the dinner. Felix had been planning for it for weeks and finally he was executing it. Your dessert rested already made. The one contribution you had made to the meal while Felix prepped everything else. It was a frantic couple of hours as he got everything assembled and made sure to time everything so it was done at the correct time.

The dinner sat in the kitchen ready to go as the night grew late. It was almost time. He got changed and waited in the dining room for you. His heart was beating hard in his chest. Why was he so nervous about this? It was just dinner. Sure he put a lot of effort into it but it shouldn’t be making him this anxious.

The dining room door opened and Felix held his breath. You entered wearing a pure white dress that complimented your figure immensely. You had even made an effort to style your hair past what you normally did. “You look beautiful,” the words left his mouth in an awed hush.

“This room looks beautiful,” you approached the table. You regarded the choice of table dressing with a knowing smirk. “I thought you said candlelight and rose petals was pushing things and yet I see both here.”

“I also said that I was gonna wear sweats. Things change,” he gestured to the simple white button up shirt, and black slacks he had purchased in secret.

“You even got a tie,” your hands ran over the black tie knotted messily around his collar, “And here I thought you were too good for a monkey suit.”

“It’s not a full stuffy death trap,” he shrugged, “Besides, I would be looking like a real bum next to you if I hadn’t decided to dress up last minute. How does it look?”

“You look incredibly handsome and sexy,” you pulled him down by his tie to kiss him, “You are definitely going to have to wear this for me again some time.”

“This doing something for ya, darling?” Felix smirked.

“Oh definitely,” you grinned wider.

“Well you are just gonna have to stew in those dirty thoughts of yours because from here on out tonight is about the food.” He pulled your chair out, “Now sit your ass down,”

“Oh what a gentleman,” you giggled before taking the seat. The dinner went by without a hitch as Felix served up the food. He watched as you ate everything with such glee and praise. It was a rather delicious dinner. It had better have been considering how much work he put into making it.

This was nice. It was nothing different from what you two did every day but this felt far more intimate. He had done all this to impress you. He had lit candles and scattered rose petals to make it romantic. All these little details and it just made your smile wider.

After you finished the main course it was time for dessert. Felix made to stand and grab it but you shot to your feet first. “No you don’t,” you started walking towards the kitchen, “You have done everything else tonight. I at least get to serve the dessert.”

“Sounds good to me,” he leaned back in his chair, “I deserve a little pampering too, after all.”

You rolled your eyes and rushed into the kitchen and emerged again with two plates.

“Here we are!” You set a plate down in front of him. “I know how much you love sweet and salty desserts so I made this salted maple pie. I hope you like it.”

“Sounds delicious.” Felix looked down at his plate and paused.

Resting on top of his slice of pie was a white sand dollar. He gently picked it up and inspected it. It was perfect. No chips or cracks. He looked up and saw you watching him with a wide smile. “What’s this about?” He asked.

“Well,” You squirmed in your seat, “I remembered you talking about how you collected sand dollars while on Neverland so I thought that you may like it. Maybe now that we live here you can start a new collection.”

You remembered that? He had only mentioned it once and that was months ago now. But here it was. Felix would never say he was one that was easily ruled by emotion. A sentiment that lost more meaning the more time he spent with you and tonight was no different. This was hands down one of the nicest things anyone had ever done for him. It made him feel all warm inside. Not like the hot lust he had become familiar with but a comforting warmth. Like you had draped a blanket fresh out of the dryer over him. It felt...it felt like...love.

Love.

You were still watching him. You started fiddling with your nails like you did when you got nervous. “It’s okay if you don’t like it.” You said suddenly, “I just thought that because of what you said that you would--it doesn’t matter. Please, try some of the pie. I think you’ll really like it.”

You thought he didn’t like your gift. That wasn’t a shock since he had just stared at it instead of saying anything about your perfect token. What was he expected to say though? What could he say for something this personal? Just saying that he loved it didn’t seem like enough.

“Darling,” He reached across and took your hand. You looked at him with wide eyes like a startled deer. How much he loved gazing into those eyes. “Can I make love to you?”

“Huh?” Came your articulate response. Felix tried not to chuckle at your shocked expression.

“I love this.” He held up the sand dollar, “I love that you thought to give me this. No one has ever done something like this for me and I--” Words escaped him as he tried to articulate what was going through his brain. “I want to show you how much I love it if you would let me make love to you tonight.”

“Felix…” You squeezed his hand, “I would love nothing more.”

“Come along then, little girl,” He stood up. “No time to waste.”

“You mean right now? Don’t we need to clean up dinner?”

“Worry about it tomorrow. Right now I just want you.” He pulled you to your feet.

“Okay,” Your voice was hushed, “We should at least blow out the candles first.”

“Right.” You two went about blowing out the candles dotted around the room. Felix turned to look at you and his gaze wandered down to your shapely ass bent over the table to blow out some of the candles. It wasn’t lust that kept his gaze locked there though.

“Um, darling,” Felix said. You straightened up and turned to him. “There’s a stain on your dress.”

“A stain? Where?” You looked down your torso.

“Not there.” He motioned to behind you, “There’s a dark stain on your butt.”

“My butt?” You looked puzzled for a moment before abject horror settled in. You looked down with a growing sense of dread. “No. No no no no no NO!” You scuttled off towards the bathroom. Felix finished blowing out the candles and followed after you.

“Are you alright?” He asked through the door.

You cracked the door open with a deep frown. “I’m sorry, Felix.” You mumbled, “We can’t have sex tonight.”

“Okay. But are you alright? You’re worrying me, darling.”

“I’ll be fine.” You scowled, “I got my period. So sex is kind of off the table until it’s over which will be a few days. I didn’t even realize it was blood, I thought I was wet down there cause I was turned on. This sucks!”

Felix was a tad disappointed but that hardly mattered now. So he had to wait a few more days to make sweet love to you. That was hardly anything to get upset about. He hugged you close and whispered words of reassurance to you. He wanted you to know it was alright.

“It’s bad enough I’m bleeding out of my vagina but it just had to go and ruin my pretty new dress too!” You whined as Felix led you back upstairs, “I really liked it.”

“I’m sure we can get a little blood out of your pretty dress, darling.” Felix kissed the top of your head, “For now, go clean yourself up and get comfortable. Okay?”

“Care to join me?” You asked. “Just because we can’t have sex doesn’t mean you can’t join me for a quick shower.”

“Sounds great,” He followed you into the bathroom. Both of you undressed and Felix whined in his throat when he saw you in your naked glory, water streaming down your body as you beckoned him from the shower.

He stepped into the shower with you, the hot water hitting his back. You were standing right in front of him and he was having a hard time not giving in and taking you right there in the shower. He failed to see how a little blood meant that you two couldn’t be joined but it was a stopping point for you and he accepted that. But god did he want to.

While he stood admiring you, you had set about lathering up the loofah and scrubbing yourself clean. “Ah ah,” He grabbed it out of your hands, “Since I don’t get to make love to you tonight I at least get to do this.”

“What? Bathe me?” You arched an eyebrow up at him.

“Will you just let me do this for you?” He asked.

You smiled and nodded. Unlike your methodical scrubbing to quickly and efficiently wipe the day away, Felix was far more slow. Every swipe of his hands like a soft caress as he lathered your body with sweet smelling bubbles. It wasn’t even about cleaning you up, he just wanted this chance to touch you. It was one of his favorite pastimes. He loved the way you just melted into his touch and became so pliant in his arms. You relaxed and trusted him so much, you felt safe with him, and he reveled in it.

Before any of this had happened, before he came to Storybrooke with you, Felix had always been on edge. He was used to constantly having to look over his shoulder and wait tensed for danger on Neverland. He could never find a moment to let his guard down. Not even when he was sleeping. On Neverland he kept up a hard and bitter exterior to scare anyone away from trying to mess with him. It worked too. After a few years no one dared cross him. Being the guy everyone was scared of though made it very lonely. His only real friend on the island being Pan himself. He was the only one that wasn’t scared of him.

Then you came along. You two had never had many interactions on Neverland but you didn’t scuttle away from him when he crossed your path. You were wary, he could see that, but you never tried to avoid him like the others did. You trusted him just about as much as you trusted anyone else on the island which wasn’t saying much. Now here you were, sharing a shower with him while he washed your hair for you. Your eyes closed as you leaned back into the gentle scrubbing of your scalp.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

“For what?” You asked.

“For trusting me.” He kissed your shoulder. You turned around and laid your head against his chest. “I don’t think I’ve said it before but, you mean a lot to me. I need you to understand that I really do care about you. I care about you so much.”

“I care about you too.” You hugged him tighter, “I adore you, Felix.”

The both of you stood there under the hot spray of the shower until your fingers started going pruny. Felix’s attention to you didn’t stop after the pair of you got out of the shower either. He grabbed one of the towels and dried you off. You laughed when he covered your head with the towel to dry your hair.

After he got dressed for bed he ran back downstairs and grabbed the slices of pie you had left out and brought them up to the bedroom to eat. He hoped with everything in his being that you understood just how much he meant what he said...and what he had left unsaid. He hoped you felt loved. Cause that’s what it all came down to. Felix loved you. He loved you and though he didn’t have the courage to say it yet, he hoped that tonight let you know exactly what he was feeling.

When the pie was finished and the lights were turned off, Felix pulled you close to him and kissed you. “Have sweet dreams, my darling.”

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