#it has been pointed out to me that i don't *have to* go straight into grad school but also i don't think there are any good jobs to get w

[moondirti]

Hellloooo🖤 I’m the anon who asked about the Safehouse story!

My brain, unfortunately, is not nearly as wrinkly as yours so I cannot come up with creative ideas like you 😂 BUT! I have a few ideas? Maybe? If you can call them that lol.

Was the spanking the first physical interaction they had? What did the morning after that look like?

What happens if reader has a nasty mental health episode & tries to hide it from Ghost?

Does the pet thing progress? I think we all know that Ghost has a thing for the pet play. I don’t even care, that’s totally canon for me at this point.

Would you ever consider writing about the general dynamic they have? Like the “rules” Ghost might have for them?

Totally and completely a self indulgent ask from someone who just had to pull themselves out of a nasty mental health episode lmao I’m so sorry please ignore this if it’s annoying or dumb!

shh i love all of these. i have so many thoughts now / prev

cw: dubcon d/s lifestyle. petplay. controlling behaviour. possessiveness. panic attacks. toxicity. noncon collaring. financial manipulation. mention of self harm. brief fluff.

Your thing with Simon is hard to contextualise.

Or even understand, really.

Parts of it are welcome. He asserts himself in a way you haven't found in the nobodies you've hooked up with previous, happy to fuck you dumb if it means you'll surrender yourself completely. Which you do. You listen intently and follow every direction he gives in bed, and as a reward he wrings orgasm after orgasm from your squirming body. You cum more in one week than you have in the past month, never not naked and sore, wrists tender from where he anchors his hand to keep them pinned above your head. You hear puppy more than your own name, at this point. And it's a concerning because– Well...

You don't mind it.

But you still don't like him.

It isn't like you necessarily need to like your partners in order to have a good time, but it certainly helps if you can tolerate them beyond a dick-in-hole condition. Simon is an anomaly in that he is the worst person you know, whilst also serving as the best lay you've ever had.

That is to say, his habits haven't changed. He's a fucking terror to live with. Nightmare flatmate, the type you see strangers complain about on reddit forums or hear in a friends story from their sister's husband's cousin. Not something you would take seriously until you live the experience – now existing as a sore, precautionary tale you'll no doubt be pitching to anyone also considering subleasing their place as a safe house.

Perhaps it's made worse by the sexual element you share. Before, he had just been your average perverse man, stealing clothes and walking in on you in the bathroom. Now, it seems that sleeping with him has given him the go-ahead to push that behaviour to an extreme. He'll pat your ass while you go about your business, or tug your hair when you raise your voice. Treats you like a pet that has yet to be debarked; just a silly, sub-human way of entertainment.

You can't help but feel you enabled it. But no–

The pet play is cute when he's drilling your brains out – and perhaps only because you can't think straight enough to raise concern – but you're not a dog. Nor do you want to be treated like one throughout all hours of the day. The onus is on him for not catching the hint.

But of course, accountability isn't in his lexicon.

Things only get worse from there.

"An' where d'you think you're going?"

You're halfway out of the door when he catches you leaving.

If you had been more iron-willed, you would slip out and scurry away before he can continue whatever spiel he has stirring. Instead, it's instinct to shrivel in on yourself, clicking the door shut before turning to face the behemoth waiting in the foyer.

"Out." You huff, intent on cold-stoning him. But it's a fools game when your opponent in the broad-shouldered lieutenant – for he merely cocks his head, waiting your silence out with more silence, and it's all you can do to bite your tongue against the deluge of excuses that pile up. "My mates thought it would be a good idea to catch brunch. Y'know– to celebrate the start of summer break. It's a nice day out so..." You gesture to your attire, like you have any reason to justify a sundress to some man you are in no way committed to.

But you can read the possessive gleam of his eyes as they take stock of your appearance: from your expensive mules, up your moisturised legs, to the low cut of your décolletage. It's easy to connect it to that look he had when you came back home that fateful night, the look of warning before he'd taken you over his lap and slapped your ass raw.

And for some odd reason, you're compelled to dig yourself out of trouble.

"Hm. It is a nice day, innit?" You nod a bit too quick. He stalks closer. "Lots of people out." Your nod is a little less enthusiastic. He's centimetres away now. "Some bad, bad men too."

He lifts the ends of your dress, slowly. Your next words quiver on their way out your chest. It's alarming to find that they don't sound nearly as assertive as you intend for them to be, not like they do horny.

"Where are you going with this?"

Your skirt pools around your hips now, held up by one hand as the other smooths over with the gusset of your panties.

"You plan on lettin' them have at this puppycunt? Have I not been givin' it enough attention?" He mockingly coos, pressing harder against the mound between your legs. Your knees grow weak. Not of your own accord, but weak nonetheless, and you have to hold onto his wrist to keep yourself upright. "Is tha' it?"

"N-No–"

"No? But that's what they'll think seeing you walk around like this, silly thing. Poor, neglected mutt, they'll say. Don't have a firm hand to keep 'er in line." Simon tuts, releasing his grip on your dress to pull something out of his back pocket. With the way he crowds into you, you can't crane your head to see what it is. "Now we can't have tha'. I spoil my girl rotten, wouldn' you say?"

"Yes. Yes but–"

"No buts, pup. Have ta stake my claim on you somehow." Something clicks. All too suddenly, you're made aware of the new weight on your neck. It tightens against the column of your throat – not enough to constrict your airways, but enough so that it hinders the way you move. "There we go. So pretty like this."

Panic seizes you, the steel fist of paralysis capturing your muscles in a vice-like clutch. Even as Simon pulls away, you're almost scared to find yourself in the nearest mirror. Scared of what you'll find dangling between your collarbones. There's no mistaking the textured leather that presses against your skin, nor the soft clink of metal hanging from it. No fooling yourself that this is all some cruel joke, not with the sick leer of satisfaction that warps his face.

Stumbling, you navigate to the bathroom and blindly turn on a light.

That cruel fuck.

"Simon," Your voice is devoid of the anger you feel roaring through your veins, circuiting through the frenzied stutter of your heart to find new passion. Instead, you sound horrified. Near hysterical, choking on your own pleas as you run back to the foyer. Your hands tug at the collar clasped around your neck, desperately searching for a buckle that will aid you in ripping it off, despite seeing the lock latched right at the centre that tells of its permanence. What's more, he had it engraved with a crude variation of a dog collar tag. If lost, leave alone. Or else count your days. "S-Simon, Simon please. Fuck– take it off. Take it off, take it off! I don't want this, I don't want... This isn't funny. I'll change if that's what it takes. Please."

Snot bursts from your nose, cheeks wet with a hot mess of tears. You can't suppress the hiccups that interrupt your begging like pathetic shots to the chest, or the weak hits you beat across his pecs. If you could, then perhaps he would give your tantrum more weight.

As it stands, you're nothing but a feral creature resisting training.

"Shhh. Pets can' speak. Pets don't cry." His thumbs press to your under eyes, tamping the flow of brine that mark steady tracks from your lashes. "You'll ruin your makeup like this."

"Si–"

He stare hardens into something dangerous. Against your better judgment, you clamp your lips shut.

"That's it. You're s'good when you listen to me, pup." Once he's sure you've stopped crying, he removes his thumbs to instead push one into your mouth. You can taste the salty residue of your tears on his fingertips. "Now, this is the bes' of both worlds, see? You can go see your friends with this on. I know pets need their playtime, af'er all."

You arch your back in protest, but all that does is bring you closer to the lieutenant. He misinterprets that entirely, of course, and a small smile breaks his face like you've agreed to his terms. A heavy palm pats your ass.

"S'jus' so you don't forget who you belong to." He chuckles. "An' if your friends like the idea, then I have a few friends for them."

You make it one block before hightailing back home.

Nothing in you wanted to give that bastard the satisfaction, but he made it so that whatever you chose to do – stay home or leave wearing a symbol of his ownership – he'd end up triumphant. Naturally, then, you opted for the lesser of two evils: to leave his vicinity immediately. Besides, you'd promised your girls you'd see them after going AWOL the past fortnight, and you knew you'd get an earful if you decided to reschedule at the last moment.

You thought you would convince them it was a bet. That the collar is just some silly joke you have to bear for the day after a football match didn't go in your favour.

But you make it one block before a tradie on his lunch break catcalls you (you about that freaky ting, beautiful?) and decide to change course completely.

You arrive back at your flat without further incident. Ego stung from the various odd looks you received on your way, but nothing as egregious as being singled out as a freak in the midst of a crowd occurs again.

Still, your hands shake as you push your key into its slot.

Which progress to full body tremors as you turn it in place.

Thankfully, Simon isn't waiting on you on the other side of the door. He sits, manspreading on the couch instead, focus zeroed in on the telly that broadcasts Fulham v Man City. When he doesn't look away, you allow yourself to hope he hadn't heard you come in. But it's a naive pool to place your faith in. Nothing escapes the man, and soon enough, his tone of humoured indifference shatters the silence you've been precariously trying to keep.

"Miss me 'lready?"

A wretched sulk, pit of anger hollowing out anew. You swiftly snatch your laptop from the breakfast bar before storming to your room, making sure to lock the door firmly behind you.

The website is bookmarked. Taunting. Sublet your home as a safehouse for our armed forces. Serve your country and help soldiers find refuge. You would laugh if you weren't so single-minded, typing in your email and password upon being prompted to. You don't have to deal with this shit any longer, nor do you intend to. If you remember correctly, there had been a way to report any problems you face. If you phrase yours right, you might just get Simon pulled from your services.

Good dick be damned.

But when you hit enter to sign in, an error message blinks in red.

Account does not exist.

Which is fine. Shit like this happens all the time. There's no reason to work yourself into a panic, you probably just used the wrong email.

So you try your alternate. Account does not exist.

It feels unlikely, but maybe you'd created it under your school email to give yourself credibility. Only–

Account does not exist.

Your blood pressure is no doubt sky high by now. Other symptoms of stress already start to wrack through you – blurry vision, chest aches, difficulty breathing. Your hands sweat excessively as you dig for the customer care number you're sure exists somewhere, efforts impaired by the ever-present weight of the collar around your neck. You wonder if Simon can smell your anxiety like a predator does its prey. If he's in the other room, salivating, waiting for you to wobble out of your room to go for the kill. Some part of you – a needlessly paranoid part – rests on the conclusion that this is somehow his fault too.

Your phone already rings in an outgoing call once you blink back to the present. While you've been functioning on autopilot, you must have found a number to call that related close enough to your issue.

And your suspicion is confirmed when an automated voice picks up. You are currently... second... in line.

It takes five minutes. When a placating woman speaks up amidst the nauseating music they have queued, you can hardly contain yourself from word-vomiting onto her. Safehouse signup. Lost account. Need to report an issue. Please. It's urgent.

"Okay ma'am. If you could give me your name, I'll be happy to find the source of your problem today." You can't spell it out any faster. "Alright. One moment, please."

"O-okay." You sniffle miserably.

"I see. I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this, but it seems that you've been pulled from the program after a complaint was lodged against you. Unfortunately I can't provide more detail than that, but if you need anything else, I would be happy to assi–"

You hang up. The poor thing doesn't need to hear the incensed scream that tears from the deepest parts of you, or the following crack as you chuck your cell at the wall. She'd done what she could. It isn't her fault. It was that self-serving bastard that had you blacklisted from the only thing keeping you financially afloat. It is that that self-serving bastard that continues to occupy space inside your home, despite having no real right to it now.

The tantrum isn't near cathartic enough to unfetter you from your prison of aggravation, and you continue to take it out on everything in your near radius. Your duvet and pillows. The lotion you keep by your beside table. Your own skin, nails piercing into the soft flesh of your palms.

And especially the collar constricting your throat, like vines that tighten at the first sign of struggle.

You have to get this collar off. Even if you fail at everything else, you have to get this collar off.

Scrambling off your bed, you turn your room upside down looking for a bobby pin or a knife. One is unquestionably the safer bet, but you know you'll sit for hours trying to pick the lock that keeps you shackled – so when you find the boxcutter sitting at the bottom of your junk drawer, you immediately take it to your neck.

Just as Simon barges into your room.

You're so far gone, you don't even question how this must look to him. In fact, it doesn't occur to you that you locked your door, and that the only way he could've gotten in is by having a replica of your key. No. You merely twist away from the all-encompassing hold he wraps around your arms, determined to keep the boxcutter away from his confiscation until you can slice through the leather.

But you're crying. Visibly, alarmingly unstable. And Simon's breaths are a little faster than normal, faltering in a way they only do when he's close to climax. He must be worried, which is a funny thought, seeing as he's the reason you're in this mess.

"Alright thas– that's enough of that." He grunts after managing to pry the blade from your hand. You hardly mourn the loss, rather crumbling in on yourself as your sobbing escalates. No longer frustrated, nor determined. Just primed into a suffocating panic attack.

Somewhere in your auditory periphery, you hear the clinking of glass. It doesn't register until he holds a vial of lavender extract you keep under your nose, forcing you to inhale the medicinal aroma. Soon enough, your mouth opens to swallow gulps of unscented air alongside it, and the imposed breathing exercise calms you to a point of blubbering calm.

(For someone so apathetic, you admit he handled that expertly.)

That isn't the end of it, though. Moments later, you're lifted off your feet. He cradles you in both arms as he makes his way to your bed, sitting up against the headboard and placing you on his lap. Safe. Undisturbed.

You say nothing, pressing your wet face into his shirt. For comfort, first and foremost, but the makeup that'll undoubtedly stain the white fabric is an added bonus.

"Know this is hard for y'to understand, pup." Simon begins. "Hard for you ta wrap your head around ownership after bein' alone for s'long. I won't punish you for tha'."

"Y-You don't own me." You accuse.

He shakes his head in response, like your mind is truly as little as he claims. Like you're a dog, complete with two ears and a tail, and he plucked you off the street on the condition that you heel.

If anything, he's the stray.

"Oh, but I do." A large hand rubs circles on your back. Never have you been so conflicted, so torn between leaning in and biting back. "Just don't see it yet, pet. Bu' you will, in time. And in the meanwhile, we'll establish some ground rules to help you adjust."

#do not be a cute girl around this man he will ruin your life #unedited #sorry this took me ages to pump out #tumblr deleted the first draft (?) so i had to rewrite #hate this dumb site #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ‘ghost’ riley x reader #simon 'ghost' riley #ghost #simon riley #x reader #x female reader #call of duty #fanfic #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader

[golden1u5t]

worship you | s.r x fem!reader

ꨄ requested: @cosmicblogs

ꨄ genre: smut

ꨄ summary:  spencer takes notice of how you react to being praised so he takes that information and runs with it. 

"what If he's saving them? the body parts." you thought aloud, twirling your pen between your fingers as you looked up at the rest of the team. you were the newest member so when everyone just stared at you, you thought that maybe your ideas was stupid. "nevermind, I- I just thought-"

"no, you're right. that's why we can't find the missing limbs, he's keeping them." spencer spoke up, he turned around to look at you for a second. "thats good. you're good, y/n."

you felt your face heat up at his compliment, suddenly sitting up straight and feeling the need to fix your hair. "oh! thank you, dr. reid."

he turned around to look at you from over his shoulder, a smile on his face before turning back around. you could feel the rest of the teams eyes on you and you could only hope that they hadn't picked up on your sudden nervousness. you excused yourself from the little room you all were gathered in at the police department, you needed to get out of the room with him before you embarrassed yourself.

+++

"you did good today, you thought of things no one else had considered." spencer smiled at you and set his bags on the bed he would be taking for the duration of your stay.

"thank you, dr. reid." you whispered and immediately shoved past him to hide your face but he grabbed your arm and pulled you back before you could. his eyebrows furrowed as he looked over you, he could tell you were flustered but he just couldn't pin point why. he always has been oblivious to his attractiveness.

"you don't have to call me that." he mumbled, his hand loosening on your arm. he moved to take your bags off your shoulder and out of your hand. "do you wanna shower first, pretty?"

your eyes widened by a lot and you literally had a keep yourself from moaning so instead of sticking around you darted into the bathroom, forgetting about the fact your clothes and all of your hygiene products were in the room with spencer but were too flushed to go back in there so the little travel sized products the hotel provided would have to do for the night.

while you were in the shower, spencer sat at the edge of his bed trying to figure out why you were so flustered. it didn't click until he replayed the conversations he had with you throughout the day, that's when he noticed the pattern. you only got flustered after he'd compliment you or after he praised you for your good work. he chuckled to himself and shook his head.

"spencer?" you cracked the bathroom door open and poked your head out, spencer looked up at the sound of your voice. "can you close your eyes? I don't have my clothes, only a towel."

"of course." he stood up and moved to sit on the opposite side of the bed that faced the wall, even though his back was towards you he still closed his eyes like he said he would. you doubled checked that he wasn't looking before unwrapping the towel and quickly put your night clothes on. you let him know that he could open his eyes, you put the rest of your things away and moved your bags to the floor before getting into the bed. "you wanna know something I figured out?"

"sure, is it about the case? if so, we should probably call the team." you started to reach for your phone but Spencer quickly told you that it wasn't about the case. he walked around his bed and sat on the side of yours.

"you like being complimented, praised." he hummed. you dry chuckled and shook your head, starting to deny it and say that you didn't know what he was talking about. "you get all shy and flustered. I think you like it when i praise you. can I do that, can i praise you more?"

you moved off of the bed, you weren't sure where you were going but spencer pulled you back before you could stray too far. he pulled you closer to him until you were standing in between his open legs. 

"spencer, I-"

"tell me if I'm overstepping, y/n. we can go to bed now and pretend it never happened." he whispered, he loosened his grip so you could easily slip out of his hold if you wanted to. you looked at him for a moment, heart beating fast in your chest. your eyes darted down to his lips and back to his eyes. you could've slipped out of his hold and did what he said, go to bed and forget about it, but you didn't; you sat down onto his lap and wrapped your arms around his neck.

"please?" you breathed against his lips, feeling him wrap his arms around you and pull you impossibly closer to him. spencer brought his hand up to cradle the back of your head and crashed his lips into yours. things escalated almost immediately, you tugging his shirt off while he took yours off. spencer moved you onto your back and pushed your thighs apart to make room for himself. he nudged your jaw with his nose until you tilted your head back, he pressed his lips to your pulse point and smiled when he felt how fast your heart was beating.

"can I?" he asked, his hand playing with the waistline of your shorts. you nodded you head but quickly voiced your approval when you noticed the look he gave you.

spencer sat up and tugged your shorts and underwear down your legs, tossing them behind his head and leaning down to kiss you again. his hand traveled in between your bodies until he reached your cunt, his slim fingers running through your wet slit and smearing your arousal over your clit, making you gasp into his mouth.

"you're beautiful." he looked down at you, looking at how your lips parted to let out some of the most beautifulest sounds he'd ever heard, sounds he would never forget, sounds he would replay in his mind over and over again. he moved his fingers from your clit to prod against your entrance before slowly pushing one finger inside, drinking in the soft moans you let out.

"spencer, please- need more." your hips rutted up into him, his fingers felt great but they weren't enough and he seemed to understand that with just those few words.

even though you knew he needed to take his fingers out in order to give you want you really wanted, you still whined out at the loss. spencer grazed his wet fingers over your hip before leaning back on his legs and unbuckling his pants.

he had to get off of the bed in order to get his pants and boxers off but when he did he got back on the bed. you sat up on your elbows and looked down at his cock that rested over your cunt, eyes widening as you took in his girth. "oh my gosh- i don't-you're big."

you moved your hand and reached down to wrap your hand around him, your lips parted as you realized that your fingers didn't connect. spencer looked down at your hand wrapped around his cock, his hips jerked forward when you swiped your thumb over his red tip.

"you can take it, i know you can." he leaned down and captured your lips in a soft kiss. spencer's hips pushed forward into your hand when you started to move your hand, he caught your wrist and took your hand off of him. he sat up and hooked his arms under your thighs and pulled you until they were flush against his abdomen. "ready, pretty?"

"yes, m'ready." you nodded, spencer guided his cock through your folds to smear your slick before he slowly slid into you. your head fell back as you gasped at the intrusion of his cock, the stretch was slightly painful. you hadn't been with anyone in a while, especially not with anyone as big as spencer.

he kept his pace slow for you, steadying himself with his hand resting above your head. he pushed your thighs apart and you wrapped them around his waist, letting out a soft moan as the pain subdued and was replaced with pleasure.

spencer kissed down your jaw and ghosted his lips over your collarbone. you used your legs to pull him further into you, whining when he pushed so much deeper into your cunt. "you want more?"

you nodded your head quickly. spencer sat up and grabbed your hips, snapping his hips into your faster and harder. "you're so pretty, you look so good like this."

you let out a small whimper at his compliment, your face heating up and making you turn away from him to hide your face. spencer chuckled and pulled out of you, hissing as he did so. you quickly looked at him with wide eyes but he laid down and pulled you on top of him before you could protest. you lifted your hips and held his cock as you sank down onto him, you moved your hands to his chest and started to ride him.

spencer let you control your pace but he kept his hands on your waist. his chest rose and fell heavily as he watched your face twist in pleasure, he groaned lowly feeling your cunt squeeze around him.

"m'so close, fuck-" you cried out, hips lifting and dropping quicker. spencer planted his feet onto the bed and started to lift his hips up to help you cum faster. normally, you probably would’ve lasted a bit longer but not tonight, the feeling of his cock against your walls and all the praise he was giving you was starting to get overwhelming.

your body fell forward as your orgasm finally shook you, you whined and moaned spencer's name into his ear. spencer's head tipped back as he felt himself about to cum, he quickly pulled out and started to stroke his cock to get himself off. when he came it was messy, his cum shooting up between you both and landing on his and your chest.

you sat up and huffed, pushing your hair out of your face and smiled down at him. "I think I like being praised by you."

"of course you do." he chuckled and pulled you down to kiss him.

#golden1u5t #myrarants #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fandom #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid smut #spencer reid imagine #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x fem!reader smut

[clavissionary-position]

(Translation) Gilbert Gets Jealous of the Military Pets ...Again [Part 1]

Collection Event: I've Sinned Out of Love For You Story Title: "I'd Like a Normal Confession" [Part 1]

I apologize in advance if I accidentally wrote "Azel" instead of "Adele" somewhere.

I was enjoying a moment of relaxation early one afternoon after I'd gone to see the military dogs they kept at the castle.

Adele: Woof!

Emma: Hehe, oh Adele, you're as cute as ever.

Clara: Arf! Woof! Woof!

Emma: Hmm, you're so soothing, Clara.

Adele and the others had grown very attached to me ever since Gilbert first introduced them to me as candidates for being my friends.

The way they'd plop down and present their belly for more rubs, and the sight of them running round and around was just too cute for words.

(But the fact that I'm meeting with Adele and friends today is a secret from Gilbert. Because―)

Elise: Meow.

Emma: And what a good girl you are too, Elise. Have some scritches.

Elise was a cat who happened to be with the two dogs every now and then. She came over too and rubbed her body against my leg while she purred.

???: It looks like they're also in high spirits from receiving your pets, don't you think?

???: You're smiling so broadly, little rabbit.

Emma: That's because they're just so adorable. And I know all their preferences by now and exactly where to pet them to make them happy.

???: Wow... So your friendship's already reached that point, has it.

(Hm? Wait, who am I speaking to right now...?)

I was so absorbed in minding Clara and the others that I'd unconsciously ended up responding to the dialogue coming from behind me.

But the next thing I knew, both Clara and Adele were sitting up with their backs straight in a show of obedience.

Elise, too, laid flat on the ground.

(Don't tell me...)

When I timidly turned around, I found Gilbert standing there without my knowing.

Gilbert: How heartless of you. Cheating on me in secret.

(...This is the last thing I wanted to happen.)

(The reason I kept this a secret from Gilbert was because I knew he'd get jealous of Adele and others, just like this.)

Now that I'd been found out, my spine froze up with apprehension.

Emma: Um, I'm so sorr—

I tried to apologize upfront but he suddenly yanked me towards him before I could even finish my sentence.

Gilbert: You know full-well that those words aren't what I want, right?

His red eye regarded me with no intention of letting me talk my way out of this one.

At the same time, my heartbeat thundered so loudly that I could practically feel it transmitting through our bodies pressed tight.

I stretched up and tried to kiss him gently on the cheek but Gilbert only gave a small shake of his head.

(I guess that's not going to work... But... Adele and the others are watching us...)

Gilbert: Hehe. Except there's no need to fret about that.

Emma: Mrmh... !?

Just as he cupped my chin, his beautiful face drew close and then we were mouth-to-mouth.

Normally I'd be overjoyed at a kiss from Gilbert, but...

(It's so embarrassing doing this kind of thing in front of the animals...!)

I couldn't help but feel my cheeks grow hot as I caught them out of the corner of my eye, sitting stock-still and watching us intently.

Emma: If we go any further than this...

Gilbert: Just where are you looking? You have to keep your eyes on me and me alone.

This time, after he wrapped his hands around the back of my head to prevent me from looking away, he set about gently biting my lips.

I sensed that we were on the cusp of a much fiercer kiss, so I immediately pushed back against his chest and put some distance between us.

Emma: Gil, wait.

Gilbert: Even if I wait, the only thing I'll get from you is a verbal apology, right?

Gilbert: And not even you believe that I'd ever be satisfied with something so dubious.

Emma: Even so, I'll apologize sincerely again and again until you have your fill.

Gilbert: No way, you've gotta show it with your attitude.

(I feel like you won't let me off with the mere touch of a really gentle kiss either.)

Emma: Then let's at least change locations.

Emma: Once we're back in your room—

Gilbert sidled up to me, cutting off my words, and when I tried to retreat he pinned my wrists against the cold wall behind me.

Gilbert: Do you really think you have that much power to refuse right now?

---------- To be continued in Part 2 where, according to the teaser, Gilbert has a line that goes "I'll lock you up completely naked in a tower and make it so you physically can't keep secrets from me." 💀

The English versions of event titles tend toward being more cheesy and snappy, and so I totally see them calling this event something like "Guilty Love, Guilty Pleasures" lol. I'm gonna call it that in my head, please ignore me.

Disclaimer: I’m neither a translator nor fluent, so accuracy is not guaranteed. Please be aware that I use online translators.

#ikemen prince #gilbert von obsidian #ikepri translation folder #ikepri spoilers

[ldysmfrst]

American Mate (7) - Is This a Joke

Paring: Hybrid!BTS Ot7 x Plus-sized Human FemReader

Status: Ongoing series

Chapter number: 6 of unknown

Word count for Chapter: 7391

Work count for Story: 31,321

Genre: Hybrid Playmate Au inspired by works created by @yoongiofmine

A little about the author: I am a mother of two beautiful children. One of which is special needs, and on 3/28, they lost 75% of their vision. I started a Patreon if you feel the heart to donate towards helping with the medical costs of appointments, medication, and modifications to the house, which insurance doesn't cover.

Warnings: (I am not good at this, but I will try. Let me know if I missed anything!!) NOT BETA READ!! This story will have a bit of angst, fluff, smut, f/m, m/m, and m/f/m. This chapter does have Anxiety, arguments, comfort, Alpha Space, close proximity, and scenting.

Story Summary: The Hybrid K-pop group BTS is on tour in America; of course, things don't start out the way they should, but after an encounter with Y/n, things change but will everyone follow Fate?

Silence. 

Total silence.

No one was breathing. Hell, your heart even stopped. Did he seriously just tell you to become a playmate? How can he think that is even a possibility? It is not like one can just become a playmate.

Unknown to you, the pack's eyes shoot to Namjoon, just as shocked as you because he never shared this proposition with them before making it. That is not an option that they thought of.  The scents in the room turned this way and that with confusion, shock, and concern.

Why would he suggest that they limit their actions to only what a playmate can do? You are their mate. You are not a toy to play with. How does this promise anything besides you having to stay near them and service them as a companion?  

The whole idea of a playmate was to take care of them, be their friend, help them relieve stress, or become a rut fuck buddy. Playmates were never meant to be a long-term commitment. While they wouldn't mind you doing any of that as their mate, the title of Playmate would make you think of everyone as only a job, right?

Giggling rings in the room, and the sound causes everyone to snap their eyes at you as their thoughts come to a halt. Under normal circumstances, such an angelic sound would have them cooing. This time, it has their ears standing straight, their hackles raised, and their Alphas pacing in their minds. 

Your giggling bubbled to outright laughter as you looked at Namjoon with a slightly crazed look on your face causing his smile to change into confusion as his confidence in his choice melted away. 

"You're joking, right? Hahahaha. Pft... haha… playmate… me!" You looked around the room to see you were the only one laughing, which only caused you to laugh even more. Your scent was spiking in so many ways that the boys were getting dizzy from it.

"You have GOT to be kidding me. This is … am I a joke to you?" You stand abruptly and stomp closer to Namjoon and Seokjin, making the boys startle with your movement

“Do I look like a Playmate?” you ask while gesturing to your whole body and spinning around to accentuate your point.

"I have been doing nothing but abiding by Yoongi’s and the pack’s wishes since I got hurt,” with a deep breath, you close your eyes and stand as tall as your scent shuts off like it was never there to begin with.

“And now you are toying with me." Shaking your head, you mumble, “Just like everyone else.”

"Miss Y/n," Namjoon starts trying to explain himself, but all you can think of is excuses and lies which you have heard before that he might come up with if you let him keep going. 

"No," snapping your eyes open and pinning them on the Prime Alpha. 

"No excuses,” you step back.

“No lies,” another step.

“No more playing fun and games.” You turn to Jungkook with wide, panicked eyes, and you demand, “I need the address of this Airbnb so that I can call Derek or Evie to come and get me.”

“I want nothing to do with this sick joke,” voice cracking at your declaration. You must get out of here before you start crying, which is your next step. 

You really want to cry out of frustration because you thought they would be different. You may not consider yourself Army, but Lily was, and with how highly he talked about the kindness of BTS, you thought they would be different. 

Then again, it's you, the plus-sized four-eyed nobody. Why would the hottest band in the world treat you as anything other than entertainment to just pass the time.

You see Jungkook, one of two who actually helped you calm down before, ignoring you and nervously picking at the rip in his jeans. Then you finally notice that everyone is actively avoiding looking at you and realize that no one is coming to your aid. You stand tall and steel yourself to find someone who will, like their manager.

“I am going home.” Heading towards the hall, you are stopped by your black tail leash and a hand on your good wrist.  Taking a forceful breath, "Mr. Min."

You turn to face him, only to be met with powerful golden-yellow eyes that stop you in your tracks. You have seen them before, but they have never been this close. The molten gold bleeding into a darker brass surrounding the oblong jet-black pupil.

He steps forward to where you stand, making you practically nose-to-nose with the Alpha jaguar. His eyes searching yours. 

His scent crashes over the room like a storming ocean wave. Yoongi may not be the Prime Alpha, but he is strong enough to be one if he wants to be. It is this strength and dominance that cause the members of the pack to hold on to each other, waiting for his next move.

He slowly reaches up and wipes away a tear you didn’t notice was falling. Bringing the tear to his lips, his tongue darts to taste it, and his face scrunches with deep concern.

"Y/n scent gone. Tastes hurt. Pain," he says as his hand returns to your face, cupping your cheek. The warmth only makes it that much harder for you to keep your tears at bay. 

Yoongi moves to leave the living room with you in tow. He takes hold of your good hand and says, "Come. Keep Safe. Promise. "

You don’t answer, glancing down at the hybrids within your view. After a few more seconds, he looks past you with narrowed eyes at his Prime Alpha. 

“Leave alone." Making the decision for you, Yoongi, gently but without room for struggle, walks you out of the living room. 

Stopping in the hall, he looks at the door in front of him and then at the staircase down the hall. He turns to you. "Room?" He points to the closed door and then to the stairs. "Den?"

"Umm.." you look at the door, the stairs, and then back at the entryway to the living room. Looking at Yoongi, all you can think of is to get away from them all so you know your answer. "Den."

One moment is desperation. Next is shock, betrayal, anger, hurt, and now you shut your scent off. So many emotions in so little time, ending with you being pulled away by the protective jaguar from his packmates. 

The next thing Namjoon knows, a pillow hits the side of his head from an unknown packmate. Turning to look for who it was, he gets hit by another. This one, however, ends up landing on Seokjin as well, causing the shock that had settled over the room to break.

"What the hell was that?!?!" Seokjin demands after hearing you go upstairs with Yoongi. Standing up, he walks over to the other side of the room. 

"Prime Alpha, with all due respect… have you lost your mind?" questions Taehyung, leaning back on the couch with arms crossed as he does his best to hold his Alpha back from taking over and storming up the stairs after you.

"Guys, think about it! She can pay for her flat and keep her independence. Come on… just think, it would require her not to leave our side for the length of the contract," Namjoon defends himself.

"Yeah, the contract! That is all she will think it is—a contract. A job. We will only be a source of income for her, Hyung," Jungkook complains, his legs jumping with nerves. Throwing the pillows did his anger no good.

"Namjoon, you know the rules and regulations that fall on Playmates. You know that she won't qualify, and I am not just talking about the ridiculous physical standards that they have in place. She is supposed to take care of us and be there for us. There is cooking, cleaning, and stuff. How can she do that with a broken wrist, huh?" Hoseok chimes in. “How can you ask that of her?”

Standing from the chair, Namjoon circles around it. Gathering his thoughts, he rests his hands on the back of it, almost like it's a wall between him and his mates. "She will be able to care for us. Listen. Rules of a Playmate are pretty much what you said, Hobah.”

“Don’t you Hobah me right now, Namjoon! You are on thin ice. If you cost us our mate, you will not find yourself having a good time—at least not from me any time soon.”

“Sorry, Hoseok-hyung,” Namjoon says, his scent filling with a slight smokiness as he starts to understand just how much he may have messed up. 

“But really, think about it. The contract requires her to be with us at the packhouse or when we go somewhere, correct?"

Seeing his packmates nod, he continues, "This, technically, does not mean she has to do anything other than physically be there. No typing, cleaning, cooking, or labor of any kind. She isn’t required to do it unless we ask for it."

"She will take care of us by letting us care for her. All of our Alphas will be happy to do so while she is healing. We all know that Yoongi-hyung will not be able to perform or do anything well if he is concerned that Y/n is not healing well.”

“She already is instinctually being a mate, by allowing our Alphas to act on their instincts. Having her as a playmate will also be the best way for her to care for herself without financial stress. She is independent, and this way, she can keep that while learning to depend on us as mates."

"During that time, we will care for her and follow our instincts. We must show how well we can provide for her by tending to her needs, protecting her, and loving her as only her mates can."

"You want us to court her while she is our Playmate?" Jimin asks, watching the Prime Alpha nod. He looks around at the others, who now have contemplating looks on their faces. “I don’t get how this will work.”

"Namjoon, I can see what you mean and this may work, but what if she doesn't let us?” Hoseok questions.

“I want to cuddle with her, feed her, and feel her, but she wouldn't even take a bottle of water. She tried to run to a solo seat in the van to keep her distance from us. What makes you think that she would feel comfortable accepting our courting gestures?" Hoseok continues challenging the Prime Alpha. "What happens when we interact with each other? How will she be comfortable joining in or being around that?"

"Do what you did with me," Jungkook says shyly. "Show her that we are in it for more than just her being our playmate. That the companionship declared by the contract is required is not what we are wanting because we are wanting something so much deeper and stronger.”

Looking around the room with his big doe eyes, he continues, “She doesn't seem to mind cuddling with me. Next time we cuddle, maybe someone else can join. Or Anyone can try to just cuddle with her, and then if we are cuddling with each other, we can invite her to join in."

"Jungkook is right. Baby steps are our best bet," Namjoon smiles knowing he has the youngest on his side now. “She may not even know what hybrid courting looks like.”

“Y/n has seen plenty of playmate and client interactions. Two of our mates already connect with her on an instinctual level. Since none of us use playmates for our ruts, that won’t be required for her as our playmate.”

“She doesn’t know that though, Hyung,” Jimin whines, “How do we let her know that part but also that she isn’t going to be a regular playmate for us, like the one who left us?”

Silence fills the room as everyone is deep in thought. 

Hoseok jumps up, “What if we showed her the other contracts we had had? Show her that we are exclusive to packmates for our ruts. This way, she doesn’t think we just want her for sex but for friendship to start with?”

Smiling at his words, Namjoon adds, “Good. Now, we just need the rest of us to follow Yoongi-hyung and Jungkook.  We need to find ways to deepen our connection with her. Show her how we interact as mates, then our desire for her and what we are meant to be for her.”

"Wh… What happens when the contract ends?" Taehyung worries. 

After a beat of silence, Soekjin speaks up while looking down the hall, "When the contract ends, we hope she understands that she is our mate and we did our job to prove we are the mates she deserves."

“But first, we need her to understand that she is worthy of being a mate, to begin with,” Hoseok adds.

‘Become our playmate... become our playmate… Our Playmate.’ The words are replaying in your mind. His look of confidence is seared into your brain. Pressing your palms to your eyes as hard as possible, you try to think of what is going on in his head to propose that idea. 

The door opens, and you drop your hands to see Yoongi standing a little to the side. “Den not…um… no time but ready,” he says, looking around the room and then back at you.

“I understand you haven't settled in yet. Alpha, may I come in?”

At his nod, you went into the room. It looks similar to the guest room, but it is a bit larger. There is a bed on each side of the room, with a lovely natural wood shelving unit splitting the room in half. There are plenty of windows to brighten the space on both sides.

On one side, luggage lies unopened on the bed. On the other side, luggage is opened on the ground, and some clothes are tossed around. Looking over your shoulder at the Alpha, you hug yourself and wait for him to tell you where to go. 

Yoongi notices your hesitance and starts gently pushing at your upper back. He then guides you past the bed to the attached bathroom you didn’t notice.

Inside, the marble on the counters and walls is beautiful black, white, and gold. There is a double sink, a shower that looks like it has enough shower heads for an entire house and a large jacuzzi tub. 

You get lost in wonder at the richness of the bathroom alone, and it also allows Yoongi to hug you from behind, catching you off guard. 

“Y/n, sorry. Pack, sorry,” he says softly as he rests his head on your shoulder. “Take bath. Relax. Then talk. Towel and clothes on toilet. Outside. I will guard.” 

With that, he leaves and shuts the bathroom door. 

Well, that apparently was not a suggestion, but a bath does sound nice, and it would be the easiest way of keeping your brace dry. Moving to the tub, you turn on the faucet and take notice of the different bath salts, scrubs, and bombs.  

After picking a violet and vanilla bath bomb, you slowly undress. Yeah, buttons are not your friend anymore. Slipping into the bath, you think about your day. So much has happened in the last 24 or so hours.

1 - BTS shows up two weeks early when the big shots are still gone. 

2 - They hate all the playmates we offered for whatever reason.

3 - You (and they) sent mixed signals from the moment of arrival.

4 - Yoongi and you got into an accident.

5 - You broke your wrist, which will take forever to heal.

6 - They want you to be a playmate.

Now, you are kicking yourself for not attending some of the seminars on the second gender of hybrids. You essentially learned what you do because you grew up with Evie and her pack.

Your mom had moved you and your brother to California when you were still in elementary. Your brother, however, was in high school already and had a tendency to travel whenever he could. You might as well have been an only child. 

When you were unloading (getting in the way of) the moving truck, the neighbors noticed your attempts to help and decided to have you come over to their house. Once the beta Tabby hybrid noticed you ‘helping,’ he introduced you to Evie, and that was it. The two of you were hardly ever separated to the point Evie’s family included you in some of their pack trips. 

The only thing was that Evie’s pack didn’t have an Alpha, so you never got a chance to learn anything about them. With how strong Evie’s dad, Earl, was, the pack never sought out an Alpha. You didn’t have much exposure in Colorado, and as far as you knew, Alphas were not very common to run into. Plus, you were human, so why would it be something to worry about to begin with?

Well, apparently, you should have learned something when you took the job at PMS because now you were surrounded by Alphas with little… actually, let’s be honest, no knowledge aside from what you have learned since they walked through the office doors.

“Manager-nim, we need your help. Miss Y/n’s wrist is broken, and she cannot use it for upwards of eight weeks.”

Taking a sharp breath, Manager Sejin starts formulating options: “How did she take it?”

“Well, she took that rather well. She is rightfully concerned about how to function in her day-to-day life without her dominant hand. Also concerned with her… umm… her employment,” Namjoon beats around the bush, not wanting to get yelled at by his manager for his proposal like he was from his pack.

Silence is what comes from the other side of the call. “Manager-nim?”

Placing the container, he is holding down and braces himself against the counter. Manager Sejin has been with the pack since the beginning, and he knows when Namjoon isn’t saying what really needs to be said. “What did you do, now?” 

“I offered her to stay at the packhouse as I should, being the Prime Alpha. Told her we would care for her til she healed and that she would not have to worry about paying for anything while she was here. She did bring up concerns about her flat and other bills,” he paused, taking a breath, “ so … itoldhertobecomeourplaymate.”

The next thing Namjoon hears is animalistic chattering intermixed with very human cursing. Yeah, that’s not a good sign. The manager is skilled at keeping his hybrid hamster behaviors at bay unless there are very strong emotions involved.

“Manager-nim, you see, it would keep her with us so that we can fulfill our responsibilities as Alphas. It would allow for her to still work, keep her flat, and not compromise her finances. Plus it will allow her to get to know us while convincing her that she is our mate.”

A deep sigh is heard, “And how did she take that?”

“Umm.. not well, actually,”

“I can tell I am going to get a migraine from this,” Manager Sejin rubs his temple. "Continue.”

“She laughed, but not in a ‘that is funny’ kind of way but more of a ‘that’s crazy’ kind of way. She flat-out refused and wouldn’t let me explain before she basically said we were playing a mean joke on her.”

“Let me guess– none of the pack tried to help convince her of this GRREEAAT option of yours?”

“They didn’t know. Actually, I just kind of blurted it out,” Namjoon sighed. “I was panicking.”

“It serves you right to have her refuse you. Hell, I would have, too, if I were her. Namjoon-ssi, you should know better! For someone so intelligent, sometimes you are…” sigh. “Never mind. Where is she now? Do I need to get a van ready? Do I need to get the lawyers ready?”

“No, no van or lawyers. Well, she did threaten to call her friends, but that was before she left with Yoongi-hyung.”

“SHE LEFT WITH YOONGI!!” Sejin jumps up from leaning on the counter and dashes towards the front door.

“NO! No, no, no… he went back into Alpha Space. He told me to leave her alone and took her up to his den.” After a brief pause, he said, “It sounds like she is taking a bath. Hopefully, she is calming down. Jin-hyung is going to go and talk with them.”

Putting his keys back down, Sejin sighs in relief. “If anyone can get you out of this mess, it’s going to be him. Namjoon-ssi, I think you are an amazing Prime Alpha, but you always get weird when you get a new mate. I thought by now you would be better at it.”

“Namjoon-ssi, I am going to look into how to modify their contract with our lawyers. IF, and this is a big if, she agrees, then you may have something. Is that okay?”

“Please, Manager-nim. Maybe if she sees what we mean written down, it will help as well. Oh, and the pack wants her to see our previous agreements with other playmates.” 

Namjoon takes a deep breath as he ends the call. He nods to his mates to confirm that their manager is working to help make this happen, allowing the pack to relax. 

The turning on of a shower indicates that you are most likely just rinsing off from your bath and should be out soon. The pack turns to Seokjin as he narrows his eyes at Namjoon.

“You need to find a way to apologize. You need to apologize to all of your mates for springing this on us and be ready to work your ass off trying to prove yourself to her as a mate.” Standing up, Seokjin takes one last look at the hopeful faces of his loved ones, “Let me try and fix this.”

Looking at the clothes that were left for you to change into, you debate on even trying. You are not sure if they would fit but you remember seeing the random lives Lily has shown you and note that Yoongi tends to wear baggy clothes. 

You also know that whenever you are around Derek, and he is in one of his moods, he always feels better when you and Evie wear clothes he keeps in his apartment for the two of you that he has scented or has worn himself.

The struggle to put on your undergarments with damp skin ends in frustration. You give up, and they join the bundle of your clothes on the floor next to the sink. So, you go ahead and wear the provided sweatpants and hoodie, which luckily fit sans underwear. 

The smell of petrichor surrounds you, making you smile. Your family and friends always thought you were strange for loving the smell of fresh rain and wet earth. 

Looking at yourself in the mirror, you are happy at how soft and comfy the clothes are. The pants were tight on you but not comfortably, and the hoodie was long enough to cover your backside, so no one would be able to tell you weren’t wearing anything under them.

Wait… what does the big V stand for on the hoodie? You were curious enough to look at the tag, which proudly states that you are now wearing a Valentino Hoodie, of all things. 

Fuck! Why can’t he have a normal person’s hoodie for you to wear?

This is totally not like the Walmart sweater you lounge in at home. You don’t even want to try to figure out where the pants are from. For all you knew, you could pay rent with the money you were wearing.

Walking out of the bathroom, you have tried to twist a towel around your long hair and toss it on top of your head to reveal that Yoongi is no longer alone in the den.

“Welcome to our den, Y/n. Sorry, it was not ready for guests, but well, you know. We all got here at the same time,” Seokjin says with a shy smile while Yoongi’s eyes roam your form covered in his clothes.

“Oh, I understand, Mr. Kim. I am sorry for coming into your den without your permission. I didn’t realize it was a shared den until after I was inside,” you bow slightly in apology, sending your hair towel spiraling to the floor. 

Grabbing the towel and standing up, you look around, not sure what you should do since Yoongi and Seokjin have taken the bed, and there is no other seating on this side of the room. Looking back at the two Alphas, you smile shyly. 

“Come here, dear. Let Yoongi-ah dry your hair while we talk.” Seokjin pats the bed between the two of them, and Yoongi holds up a hair brush.

“Yes, we do need to talk,” taking a deep, calming breath of petrichor, you move to sit cross-legged on the bed with your back to Yoongi. His hands go to your waist to help you scoot into the right spot.

“Comfy?”

“Yes, Alpha. Thank you for your help, and don’t worry about brushing too hard. I am used to having a multitude of knots that won’t come out.”

You don’t get to see Yoongi's look of confusion, but you do see Seokjin’s concern. “My hair likes to curl when wet, and so it knots up really fast. I washed my hair this morning, so it's just wet from lying in the bath. There are no products in it.”

Seokjin chuckles, “Y/n, you are more than welcome to use anything we have while you are here. Yoon offered you a bath, which means you can use anything he has to offer.”

“I used the violet and vanilla bath bomb. Yoongi said to relax, and the smell of vanilla always helps me do that.”

A bright smile graces both of the Alpha’s faces at your confession. The mate scent is a comfort for you and that makes them feel more at ease.

“Dry and brush now. Relax more. Time to talk,” Yoongi says as he starts to gently dry your locks with the towel you brought out with you. 

“Are you okay if we talk, Y/n? I know today has been a lot for you. I will respect your request to leave you alone if you really want,” Seokjin calmly states, but the pained worry in his expression has you nodding your head for him to continue. 

“I will not excuse what Namjoon did. He didn’t talk with the rest of us before he proposed what he did, so we were shocked, as you were.”

“He didn’t? Is that why Yoongi said the pack was sorry?”

“I am sure Yoongi heard us confront Namjoon once we knew you were upstairs. So yes, the pack is sorry that the idea of you becoming our playmate came out so… abruptly.”

Narrowing your eyes at his choice of words, you state, “But you are not sorry that he went for that option in the first place.”

Taking your good hand, Seokjin pushes out his cherry scent along with the vanilla to help keep you calm as he continues to try to salvage the offer.

“Y/n, I am going to be straight with you. Our Prime Alpha will have a lot of begging to do to be back in the good graces of the rest of the pack for how he handled this, but what he offers… makes sense.”

When you hear this, a scowl grows on your face, but as the scent of cherries, rain, and vanilla fills your lungs, you pause. “How? Why? I mean, like… really, how?”

Pulling your hand closer, Seokjin focuses on rubbing his thumb on your forearm, his wrist brushing on yours. His eyes focused on the movement while trying to think of the best way to explain the situation. 

Yoongi takes this moment to rest one leg on each side of yours and scoots closer, “I brush your hair.”

“What do you know of the Playmate contracts?” inquiries Seokjin.

“Oh. Ah… Well, I know there are two kinds: Companion or a friend contract and Partner or rut and heat-based sex contract. Both can be done individually, as a group or as a sub-group. Doctors, lawyers, and managers are also involved. Honestly, that is all Derek’s department. I just schedule meetings and set up health screenings, and such. From my experiences, most of the American Hybrid Idols only take partner contracts.” 

“You are not wrong about the types, but it seems you don’t understand their limits or allowances. Also, what one idol does will not imply what others will do.”

“I get that, but Derek said that due to hybrid health, most, if not all, companion contracts will have to include some form of partner option for heats and ruts.”

A soft huff is heard from behind you. You start to turn to look at Yoongi, only to have one of his hands slide around your shoulder and up your neck to your jaw. Your breath hitches at the movement, and you will yourself not to melt into a puddle. 

“Keep looking at Jin-hyung, Y/n. Your hair is almost done.” Yoongi orders before moving his hand away and goes back to brushing the last bit of your hair. 

Blinking your eyes open you see a smirk on Seokjin’s face as his white little fluffy ears twitch around in amusement. “Sorry, Alpha.”

Looking past you, Seokjin says, “Welcome back, Yoongi-ah. Is your Alpha settled now?”

“Yes, Hyung. She smells like me, and that calmed him down quickly, though her own sweet pea scent has not come out yet.”

Looking at your injured wrist, it dawns on you that you must have turned off your scent again. “Sorry– again. I seem to do that without knowing sometimes, but it will come back eventually.”

“No worries, dear. Anyways, back to the contacts. Our Prime Alpha is having our previous playmate contracts brought over for you to review.”

This comment has your eyes snapping to Seokjin quickly, as those are normally kept quiet, “We want you to see that we have never taken a playmate for more than a companion. All ruts are handled within the packmates because we are a mate-bonded pack.”

“Oh, so when he suggested I be your playmate, it wasn’t a sex-driven thing…” you nod in contemplation, “but that still doesn’t explain why. I mean, it explains that you aren’t taking advantage of me, but still…”

Pulling you against his chest, Yoongi hugs you close. Leaning to where you can see his face, he smiles, “We would never take advantage of you and do not think that because our past playmates were not a sex-driven thing we do not find you appealing.”

You blush at the implications of his words. Unable to hold his gaze, you try to clear your head and look to the older Alpha, “How can I be your playmate?”

“Simple. Care for us.”

“Like it is that simple. I have a broken wrist.”

“Caring for us, for a pack of Alphas, is different from how you have to care for your family pack.” Seokjin explains, “You were injured in an accident involving this pack. We all know that you are going to need assistance not only in caring for yourself but also for your things.”

“As a respectful and responsible pack of Alpha’s, we are following our instinct and culture, to provide for you during this time. As Prime Alpha said, while you are with us, you will pay for nothing. If you are contracted as a playmate during that time, it will also allow you to pay for your personal debts.”

“Y/n,” Yoongi calls for your attention as he hooks your legs over his and turns you to see him better. “We… actually no. I will speak for myself. I will not be able to function well knowing that you are on your own trying to make things work.”

With his eyes flashing to his Alpha briefly, “My Alpha and I are not going to be able to go about our schedule without worrying about you all the time. At this point, I would prefer you to stay as close as you can to me or a packmate. I can understand that it can be a bit much.”

“Having you by our side,“ Seokjin chimes in, “granting our Alphas to express the instinct to care for you will be your way of fulfilling the contract.”

Looking between them both, your head swims, “What about the domestic stuff? I hear about playmates talking about laundry, making sure their idols eat, and stuff like that.”

A clearing of someone’s throat quickly draws your attention to the den door. A few other packmates are shyly standing just outside the threshold. 

One of them, Jungkook, says, “You won’t have to do any of that. Y/N, we just really want to take care of you. We want to treat you right. We want to support you.”

“Come in, my loves,” Seokjin calls. At his permission, Jungkook bounds forward and kneels on the floor at your feet, resting his head on your knees again. Taehyung joins him on the floor and leans against Seokjin. Hoseok and Jimin also sit on the floor. 

Looking toward the door, you wait for the Prime Alpha to come in, too, but no one else does. Confusion and almost a hurt look come to your face for a moment before you look at the boys present. 

The next to speak up is Hoseok, “Namjoon is waiting for Manager Sejin downstairs. He didn’t think you would want to see him right now. He knows he went about this the wrong way, but let him come to you, and don’t go easy on him. His Primeness can be on his knees and grovel a little, it won’t hurt him.”

This causes you to blush and giggle, causing the whole room to smile. The scents of cherries, rain, snickerdoodles, ebony, oranges, and lilac fill the room like potpourri with a warm vanilla underneath. Slowly, you start to relax a little more as the scent of your (unknown to you) mates rolls over you.

You lean into Yoongi, “Thank you all for coming up here. Seokjin explained to me what Prime Alpha did was a surprise for all of us,” you look around at the boys on the floor as they nod.

“It is just so much right now for me. I am overwhelmed. I know now that it wasn’t meant as some big joke, and you are trying to follow instincts—instincts that I don’t know anything about. So, if you would explain to me what you each would be expecting, I think that would help.”

With a soft bump of his nose on your cheek, you look at Yoongi, “You already know where I stand. My Alpha made that clear outside on the deck before this whole mess.”

“I want to make sure that you are eating well so that you can be healthy and happy,” Seokjin claims.

“For me,” Hoseok says, “I want to help keep you laughing during the hard times.”

“A friend. I know you have your family pack, but I hope to be your friend while you are with this pack. Be someone you can go to,” Jimin shyly says while looking around at his mates and then you.

“Expression: I hope to help you find a way to express yourself with confidence around me and others,” Taehyung adds.

“Cuddles, pets, scratches, umm... More cuddles. Just think of me as your personal stress ball or life-sized stuffed bunny,” Jungkook purrs as you run your fingers through his hair.

“I will be whatever you need me to be,” Namjoon says from the hall just out of the doorway. "And I will do what needs to be done to earn your forgiveness and your trust as Prime Alpha, even if I have to borrow some knee pads.”

Namjoon looks around the room with a hesitant smile and settles his gaze back on you. “Miss Y/L/N and mates, please join me and Manager Sejin downstairs. We have some things to discuss.”

“He wasn’t lying.”

“Who?” Manager Sejin asks.

“Seokjin. I mean, Mr. Kim… he said that they never took a playmate for more than being a companion. None of these have the rut clause, and to top it off, most have a clause to ensure that the playmate understands it is not even on the table for discussion.”

“That is correct, Bangtan only satisfies their ruts within their mate-bonded pack. They ask for playmates to have someone other than their mates to find friendship with and hang out around. It can be a bit much, even with them being mated, to always have a bunch of men around.”

“Friendship, I can do that, but I cannot do all the other services listed in these contracts. Manager Sejin, how will this even get approved by PMS? I don’t qualify to be a playmate.” 

“Miss Y/n, sit down and let us go over the contract that Namjoon-ssi and I had drafted for you. Maybe that will help if you see the modifications which have already been approved by your employer.”

Taking a seat, the two of you go over the contract clause by clause. It broke down to basically say,

1—You wouldn’t be expected to do any housework, cooking, lifting, working out, driving, or video gaming (Manager Sejin said it needed to be in there because of the maknae line) until medically cleared.

2—The Prime Alpha himself would pay for all of your personal expenses while you were staying at the pack house during the contract period.

3—BigHit would grant a salary that was more than enough to pay for your flat, utilities, and other regular bills. To be honest, it was enough to pay off your useless student loan, too.

4—The contract lasted for 8 weeks and can be extended or modified at your request and the Bangtan Pack's agreement.

But what caught your attention the most was they had left out the clause regarding ruts. 

“Manager Sejin, What about the rut clause?”

“Ah yes, let me get Namjoon-ssi for that one,” he says while getting up and retrieving the Prime Alpha from the living where they were all waiting.

“Hello, Miss Y/L/N, Manager Sejin said you had a question about the contract for me?” Namjoon questions as he takes a seat on the other side of the table next to said manager.

“Yes,” you sit up, trying to maintain professionalism. “I have gone over the contact, and while your manager has done well explaining it, I have one that, apparently, you must answer.”

Looking him dead in the eye, which causes the Prime Alpha to shift in his seat, you ask, “Why is there no rut clause in the proposed contract? I thought you said that was in it?”

It was cute how red his face became when you asked, “Umm… well... There are a couple of reasons.” Licking his lips, Namjoon glanced at Manager Sejin, who only looked amused and couldn’t wait to hear what he would come up with.

“Firstly, right now, none of the pack are set to have a rut within the time that Dr. Blackwell said you would need to heal. However, and I guess this is more of the real reason why some of the mates have expressed a concern… well, the pack is not…”

“Prime Alpha, I get it. The elder Mr. Kim and Yoongi expressed that I may be appealing,” you smile only to cover the small pang of hurt as you say, “but that doesn’t mean any of you would want me that way.”

Manager Sejin shakes his head as confusion fills Namjoon's face, ”No, no… God, why am I so bad at this?” Namjoon says, running his hands over his face.

“You are appealing, very much so, and the rut clause is not in the contract because the pack doesn’t want you to think that skinship is off the table,” Jungkook startles the three of you from the hall.

“I'm Sorry, Joonie-hyung. We could all hear you floundering, and I couldn’t take it anymore,” he says, walking in and sitting next to you.

“Thank you, Kookie. You all know that I can get lost for the right words sometimes.”

“Mr. Jeon, why would not having the rut clause in the contract make you think that?” you ask, turning to give him your full attention.

“Skinship consists of many things: hugs, holding hands, sniff kisses, pecks on the head or cheeks, massaging, cuddling, and scenting, to name a few. At this point, you and I have done a few of these. You also have done some with Yoongi and…”

Jungkook takes hold of your good hand and brings your wrist to his nose. Sniffing, a smile beams on his face, and his leg starts to bounce, “Yep, and you were also scented by Jinnie-hyung.”

“Miss Y/L/N, many playmates take these actions as openings or requests to have intercourse with us. That is not what we have wanted from any of them. Therefore, it is why that rut clause is always added to their contracts,” Namjoon adds. 

“Oh. I am not used to skinship outside of my family pack,” glancing at Namjoon and then at Jungkook. “But… It did feel comforting with Yoongi’s hugs, your cuddles, and the elder Mr. Kim’s scenting. While I am not used to it, it does feel nice.”

A slight blush heats your face and neck. Thinking back to the comfort of Yoongi holding you, the calmness Jungkook and Seokjin brought you, and the warmth you felt in Hoseok's arms. All the men in the room smile at your confession.

“Good, I would have been very sad if I had to stop cuddling with you, Y/n,” Jungkook says while playing with your fingers. 

“Miss Y/n,” Manager Sejin calls your attention, “Does that mean you will sign the contract?”

Your eyes drop to the paper in front of you, the empty line above the word ‘playmate’ waiting for your signature. Taking a deep breath, you smell the vanilla again, this time mixed with a leather-like smell and cookies.

“What happened?” asked Taehyung.

“Did she agree?” inquired Jimin.

“Don’t tell me – we lost her already,” demands Seokjin.

Yoongi stands from his seat and makes toward the dining room to try one more time to talk you into staying. However, he stops when you enter the room, holding a packet of papers.

“Yoongi, Hoseok, Taehyung, Jimin,” you call their names as your eyes look over the room and come to an end on the last one, “Seokjin.”

The boys and their Alphas shudder at having you say their actual names. Each step forward, like you are taking a roll call as they wait for some indication as to what is going on.

With a deep and respectful 90-degree bow, you say in Korean, “My name is Y/L/N, Y/N. I put myself in your hands as your new playmate.”

Previous / Next

Taglist - Open

@braveangel777 @bethanysnow @smileykiddie08 @kayways @danielle143 @nenefix-on @im-gemmy @fluffy-canada-pancakes @staytinyville @juju-227592 @levislifeline @carolinexkpop @m00njinnie @drenix004 @singukieee @avadakadabra93 @dazzlingjade @sehun096rainbow @sunshinecallie @seoullove96 @reallysparklychaos @tired7o7 @channiespup @cryingpages @kittycatkrissa @hijabae2019 @captain-joongz @roseidol

#ldysmfst fic #americanmate #bts #bts x reader #hybrid #hybrid bts #au #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts fanfiction #bts smut #angst with a happy ending #plus sized reader #a/b/o #a/b/o dynamics #alpha beta omega #kim seokjin #kim taehyung #kim namjoon #park jimin #jeon jungkook #jung hoseok #min yoongi

[cressthebest]

Crimson Rivers thoughts pt. 30

chapter 49:

1. jegulus jumpscare (it’s a dream i wasn’t expecting)

2. shit. the dream is about their wedding plans. i- i can’t do this shit while reg is in the arena

3. shit it’s raining and i know reg can’t handle it because of the last crimson river/arena

4. god, sirius wakes up to the rain and his first thought it to go save regulus

5. “"Lily, have you been using sex for favors?"

"No." Lily pauses, then snorts. "Well, alright, so this is how it works, yeah? I'm already having sex, and then I'm like, say, look at you all laid out and desperate to give me what I want; don't you want to do this very small, very simple thing for me? And then they mostly always say yes, and they get what they want, all while I'm having a grand time and also getting what I want. See? Win-win.””

😭😭😭 i love her your honor

6. “”I cannot believe that this revolution is partially running on your competency in sex."

"Oh, if only it could fully run on that. Everything would go so smoothly. Shit, we'd win the war in, like, a week.""

😭😭😭💍♥️ marry me please

7. “”I keep telling [Effie] I know exactly how to make her feel better, but she insists she's a married woman, and also far too old for me. Disappointing, really.”” 😭😭😭

8. james confronting lucius has me scared for remus. like, i know they can’t trace it back to remus, but i’m so scared

9. james is pissed at the world and it’s honestly scary

10. i know james is trying to use donations, but i’m also aware that riddle wants to make sure no donations make it to reg, sirius, or marlene

11. “"Aw, your boyfriend sent you a present," Rabastan teases, his tone lighthearted and good-natured.

"Fiancé," Regulus corrects sharply”

GAGGED. he took james’ words and fucking ran with it like nobody’s business

12. not narcissa welcoming james to the family 😭😭😭😭

13. james sent him a bagel and all the death eaters are making fun of him for being gay over it 😭😭

14. all james sent on the card was “???” 😭😭 pls that’s so funny

15. poor eli

16. the sad bonding over marlene and sirius having recovered from drinking problems

17. don’t tell me that the fucking crimson river hands are coming out the hedges. i- god i hope reg gets to personally witness riddle’s downfall

18. AND THE FUCKING GREEN MIST??? FUCK THIS

19. “You never truly do feel as alive as when death is breathing down your neck.”

oh he’s insane as hell. a black for sure

20. shit. sirius’ mind just went blank in the maze

21. the hallow is cruel beyond belief for this

22. “He has had dreams of Regulus, ah, using his dagger during…intimate moments, but is that something he'd actually do? Well… Okay, bad example.” 😭😭😭😭

23. james was so close to an epiphany about mcgonnagal making everyone hate the games. he was so close

24. “Thorfinn said he'd have to be killed to be stopped from going after Sirius, even though Regulus explicitly told him what he'd do about that, and so Regulus killed him. Newton's third law: for every action in nature there is an equal and opposite reaction.”

bitch do not pull physics into this 😭😭

also that means that sir isaac newton existed in this universe, which if we see this as a future for our universe, it means that homophobia was prevalent at one point and the world straight up just eradicated it. 🤷🏽‍♀️ pro for this universe ig

25. “When he lifts his head, the first thing Regulus sees is his brother.

The second thing he sees is Sirius' fist, just the flash of it, just seconds before it collides with the side of his face.”

he had it coming fr

#marauders #regulus black #sirius black #crimson rivers #jegulus #james potter #lily evans #dorcas mention

[terresdebrume]

"You had another nightmare."

Crystal gives Edwin her most venomous glare. She thinks the effect is kind of ruined by the big bag under her eyes, but still. It's the fucking thought that counts. He wasn't even condescending about it this time it's just. He's the wrong half of the boys for this. Just because Crystal figured out how to exist alongside him doesn't mean they're close.

Well, they are. But they're the kind of close that comes from caring deeply about the same person. Not the kind of close that comes from spontaneous appreciation. Crystal sighs, and lets her head fall down on her knees.

"Please go away," she mumbles.

By her side, Edwin scoffs.

"Believe me, I too wish Charles were here instead of me. However, since he very inconveniently decided to take a walk tonight, I'm afraid you'll have to make do with me."

Crystal sighs again, fingers digging hard into the sides of her knees. The problem, of course, is that Edwin isn't wrong. She's not sleeping again tonight, that's a given. She might be able to sleep properly tomorrow, but she hasn't had a full night since she confronted David, so she's not exactly holding her breath. She could wait for Charles, but then what? Think of the way she kissed him and chicken out? Not fucking helpful.

"It's not a nightmare," she admits at last, bumping her forehead against the bones of her knees. "It's memories."

"Please trust that I am deeply familiar with situations when those two things are one and the same."

It still strikes her, sometimes, how weird Edwin's speech pattern sounds to her ears. Not enough to make her laugh, or at least not anymore. Just weird enough to stretch her mouth into a smile. For Edwin to click his tongue.

"I do not feel like my efforts are being properly appreciated."

"So sorry, your highness," Crystal snorts.

She knows he's rolling his eyes from the way he sighs. It does make her feel better, to be honest. She's not sure if Edwin's doing it on purpose, but there's something about annoying him that works very well to take her mind off the new information in her head. It's simple, too.

Things with Charles are. Awkward. Which is probably a bit her fault for sending somewhat mixed signals, but Charles has been a little off ever since Hell, so he's probably to blame too. A little. The point is: even if he were here, Crystal wouldn't go to him.

Edwin is a shit listener, and even shittier at hiding he doesn't care, but he's here. And easy to annoy. And actually being... Okay. For once. With a sigh, Crystal tilts her head sideways so she can glance at Edwin. He's not looking at her, of course. Is in perfect profile from her, actually. Straight nose, frowning brow, stuffy jacket and vest and collar.

"Thanks," Crystal makes herself say, just to remember she can.

"Oh, don't be sentimental," Edwin says, primly. "Now that you are our official psychic, it is merely good business sense to help you digest your new memories."

Crystal bursts out laughing. It's way too loud for this time of night, and shrill, and more than a little fucking hysterical. In her throat, she can still feel the balls pressing against he windpipe, her skin, her bones. She remembers the way they blocked her air, the irrational fear that she wouldn't be able to get them down. The terror washes over her and turns to more laughter, then wheezing breaths.

"Yeah," she manages between two gasps for air, "they were really fucking hard to swallow."

She doesn't think she'll ever be able to tell Edwin why she laughs until she cries.

Reblogs make the world go round. Please share this story if you like it :)

#dbd fanfic #Crystal Palace #edwin payne #s: dead boy detectives microfic #Dead Boy Detectives #Matt writes #15n #20n

[goldenavenger02]

hanging onto every sentence

For @badthingshappenbingo. Prompt: Confined To Bed Rest. Suggested by @bracedfangirl who asked for "Lloyd for Confined To Bed Rest"

Ever since they had gotten him back, the metaphoric light in his eyes had faded and had been replaced by a void that was impossible to read, one that made Kai feel sick.

Kai held on tighter when Lloyd flinched in his hold, nearly hitting his head on the curve of Kai's chin; he was pretty sure that there was some form of an apology interspersed with the series of hacking, wet coughs that escaped Lloyd's lips, but between the gasps and the exhaustion, it ended up being unintelligible.

"Don't worry about it," Kai insisted even when Lloyd sagged against him and went scarily still that had him turning to Zane, "is he-"

"He's still conscious," he let out a breath, watching as Zane quickly removed the blood pressure cuff which had caused Lloyd to flinch in the first place, "his vitals are mostly stable, except for…"

He didn't even have to say it, Lloyd's breathing had sounded awful from the moment Cole had pulled the two of them out of the river.

"So, what do we do?"

"Lloyd is the only one who can destroy the realm crystal, which means he has to come with us to Stiix."

'Right. End of the world, Morro, even more terrible things happening to people who don't deserve it.' Kai gently pulled Lloyd out of his slouch as he started coughing again.

"Are you sure all four of us can't just blow it up?"

"Affirmative. Our powers are still too weak from…" Zane's glance shifted towards Lloyd's face for a few brief moments before he returned eye contact with Kai, "from what happened, but it shouldn't take that much of Lloyd's abilities to destroy it."

Kai ran a hand through Lloyd's still damp hair before returning it back to the place around his arm where he had been holding him upright to encourage coughing up the water he had inhaled.

"Zane, he can barely sit up."

"We don't have another choice," Zane's grave tone only made Kai's decision making skills stall to more of a standstill, "if he does not destroy the realm crystal, Ninjago as we know it will be cursed."

Lloyd whimpered in response, which had Kai sitting straight up, but he let out a string of coughs before slouching against Kai once more.

"I know, I know," Kai finally sighed when he felt safe enough to return his gaze back to Zane, "but maybe we should make a backup plan if he's still this bad when we get to Stiix."

'If it were up to me, it wouldn't even be considered.'

"You do make a good point," Zane agreed while clipping a small monitor around one of Lloyd's fingers, "I'm going to update the others and see if we can make a backup plan, but I do not feel comfortable leaving him unattended-"

"I've got him, just don't let everyone decide to make me swim," Kai insisted as he pulled Lloyd upright again, "I've done enough swimming to last a lifetime."

"Very well, but Kai?"

"Yes?"

"Maybe use the towel to dry him off some more."

"Got it," Kai nodded, grabbing it as soon as the door shut behind him and started to towel off Lloyd's hair slowly in order to avoid another harsh flinch, "you still with me, Lloyd?"

He got a few harsh coughs in response that made his own chest twinge in sympathy.

…

Lloyd had managed to stay upright, defeat the preeminent and give a very motivating speech on the deck of the small paddle boat to the point where Kai wondered just how Lloyd had gotten this much energy when he had barely been able to speak that morning.

But when they returned to The Bounty and Lloyd keeled over in a way that renewed the unrelenting panic in Kai's heart, he realized that it was clearly a mix of adrenaline and spite, the same kind that had carried him through his own numerous battles.

He didn't have any new injuries outside of some bruising and minor cuts, 'thank the master', which pinpointed the cause of him falling unconscious as exhaustion, according to Zane.

"He needs sleep, a lot of it," Zane finally determined while Kai stood against the wall, fully prepared to move over to Lloyd's side as soon as he was allowed, "Kai, you'll need to reinforce it."

"After you shower," Kai whipped his head around to see Nya walking in, her under eyes looking only a few shades lighter than Lloyd's, "you smell horrible. I'll take first watch."

"Are you su-"

"Positive, we all took a vote on it," Nya's smirk lit up her face enough for Kai to know that it was mostly a joke, "go shower."

"I'll be back after I'm done," Kai relented, stopping to pull Nya into a tight hug as he found himself overwhelmed with pride that overtook the panic for a few, brief moments, "I'm so, so proud of you."

"Thanks," she returned the hug until he let go, "now go get clean, before I start gagging."

Kai couldn't help but let out a laugh as he found it in himself to go, knowing that Lloyd was perfectly safe with Nya and Zane.

…

"I have never seen…" Kai was going to add "someone who was that hurt two days ago escape Zane's watch for the third time in twenty four hours", but then he was reminded of after they defeated the Overlord the first time and without discussing it with each other, all tried to pull through it without getting medical attention and kept it to himself.

But at least he had given up on going that route after that, unlike a certain green ninja.

"Look, there's no way he would have gone outside in this," Nya gestured to the raging thunderstorm outside the window, "but we need to find him before he does."

"Lloyd!" Kai called out as he and Nya went in separate directions to divide and conquer, "Lloyd, hide and seek at eleven p.m in the middle of a thunderstorm is a really bad ide-" he was cut off by the generator turning off and The Bounty being encased in darkness.

"Great, just great," he muttered, lighting his hand ablaze before continuing to make his way through the ship, "Lloyd!"

He found himself making his way towards the very bottom of the ship; while it was now a glorified storage unit, there was a small, condensed training course down there, the same one Lloyd always took his anger out on when he didn't want to be seen.

He really hoped he wasn't foolish enough to train with fresh injuries, but he also knew that if he was, it was in order to avoid what was really bothering him.

Kai didn't hear any noise coming from behind the closed door, even when he knocked, but he still found himself opening it regardless with a "Lloyd? You in here, buddy."

It was silent for a few beats even as he briefly shined the fire in his hand throughout the room, but that's when he heard a voice coming from behind the door.

"I'm right here."

"Oh, thank the master-" Kai muttered as he shut the door enough so he could get down beside Lloyd, the fire in his hand illuminating the dark circles under his eyes in the worst way which subsequently quelled the anger that had been building since Zane had told them he had escaped again, "you scared us."

"I didn't mean to."

"What is going on, Lloyd?" Kai asked, even though he had a guess in mind after the events of the last month, "you've always been a bit of a flight risk, but this is…you've really outdone yourself."

"Can you go ahead and take me back?"

"So you can run off while everyone is sleeping?" He waited for the inevitable scowl, but still reached over and gently rested his hand on Lloyd's knee when it came, "I'm here for you, whenever you're ready to talk."

"Can you…can you please take me back?"

"Yeah," Kai resigned as he stood up before holding out his hand and helping Lloyd to his feet before leading the way back to his room.

"Oh, thank goodness," Nya muttered as she pulled Lloyd into a tight hug, but Kai could tell that Lloyd's heart wasn't in returning it as he lightly squeezed back, "I'm so glad you're okay."

As Nya helped him back into bed, Kai had to stop himself from pulling her away and voicing his concern that maybe, just maybe, this was the thing that had fully broken Lloyd.

Ever since they had gotten him back, the metaphoric light in his eyes had faded and had been replaced by a void that was impossible to read, one that made Kai feel sick; he couldn't help but wonder if Morro digging into Lloyd's memory and using his body had caused the Lloyd they knew to go down with the preeminent.

#ninjago #lego ninjago #confined to bedrest #heavy angst #bad things happen bingo #my writing #fic #lloyd garmadon #kai ninjago #nya ninjago #post possession #whump

[hershelwidget]

wait hang on

HANG ON

DO YOU SEE MY VISION

#professor inkling #count bleck #TELL ME YOU SEE IT. IM NOT CRAZY #*writes yet another octonauts crossover au-* #OK BUT LISTEN HEAR ME OUT HEAR ME OUT #H E A R ME O U T #in case you're wondering if it's just the monocles NO IT RUNS DEEPER THAN THAT I PROMISE #1. both have been around a long time and founded some sort of group to further their goals (octonauts & team bleck) #2. fancy clothes (yeah inkling's in just a bowtie but remember he's straight up an octopus) that stand out among their peers #3. speaking of that last point: unusual anatomy (one does NOT look a fish and the other is a head torso and floating hands. nothin else) #4. i kinda don't wanna have to pull the mafia au card on this one but if I WAS then: tragic backstories and tragic motives #though then again do we REALLY know anything about inkling- like do we R E A L L Y?? his backstory could be tragic they just aint tellin.. #5. avid book readers (bleck let a book tell him how his life was supposed to go this man is clinically into books) #6. defense mechanism that involves darkness (octopus ink & a bLaCk HOLE-) #7. if you see either of them walking it Don't Look Right #8. this is more of an implied thing for them but: knows a LOT about the people they gathered for their causes #9. both from children's media that gets DARK sometimes without warning #10. sometimes they say things and the people around them are just ''what'' #11. love interests (ones outright saying it and the other is again just implied but STILL ITS ANOTHER POINT SOOO) #12. ok fine. yes it was the monocles at first but then i thought about it MORE so HA #feel free to add on if i missed something

[crossbackpoke-check]

Why I Am Not Coming In To Work Today [abridged], Jess Zimmerman

part one | part two

#toronto maple leafs #HELLO EVERYBODY THIS HAS BEEN MONTHS!!! MONTHS IN THE MAKING BECAUSE i AM UNHINGED AND NEEDED THE PRECISE PICTURES THAT I KNEW I WOULD GET #like. seventy five percent of this has been done since the first time i posted this and while it has gotten better with time because #my narratives simply got more complex and there's so much of this that is For Me but don't worry i will explain but aLSO goddamn mitch coul #you have gotten married any later in the year. also willy you truly disappointed me by not getting an absurd haircut this year (now that #i've said this he's going to debut it on instagram like. tomorrow. but anyway that meant y'all got to enjoy my neuroses of #Loving Tyler Bertuzzi who is a goddamn leaf. the joys of having to wait to post this (was not a leaf at the time i started it) and anyway i #have at length i think had the breakdown about tyler in pigtails girl dad & how i got a bob & then tyler copied me which was rude. that's m #gender. ANYWAY starting from the top we got sheldon keefe documentation which was really just the personal decision that i wanted all the #coaching staff to be the markers in the poem/the bold & also at the TIME keefe hadn't re-signed &we thought it might be everybody out w/kyl #anyway the title of the scrap of an old lover's flannel is literally 'u think this is about sheldon & kyle NO it's about timothy liljegren' #bc. liljegren was on the marlies winning cup team & has had a contentious relationship w/keefe ever since & was healthy scratched in playof #& the narrative is sooooo. also at one point for the ryan o'reilly i was going to edit the stlb out of his grandma's shirt or cover it w/th #childhood dreams line but THEN i found the gio snapped stick one which was too perfect for 'crumbling copy' the ryan o'reilly To Me is so. #ur insane in ways u did not think for that one. like. how soft her hands were. his grandma you guys. he grew up a leafs fan. if he ever get #to lift the cup with her again i will lose my shit. the cup run a movie i remember nothing--OKAY the spezz one i knew i needed him stresse #but also i believe in the spezz/kyle narrative so. it comes up later don't worry ALSO SPEZZ FOLLOWING HIM TO PITT CAME AFTER I MADE THIS bu #the muzz tea one makes me a little sensy bc muzz was out with an injury for most of this season & it was a really scary spinal one & so yea #& then the simmer one just straight up makes me cry bc i love him so much & the work that he does for anti-racism in hockey means so much & #if you have that video open & watch it i promise you will cry i do every time it's so beautiful he had to be on comforted by beauty & sammy #boy is on the a man who doesn't know me because EYE remember the caps goalie tandems. baby lilya. the mo one is a little funny bc it is #solely due to wade's thread about mo rielly the coal miner homestead husband. that's why he moves to omaha also i think it suits him (quiet #OK NOW OLD MEN IN LOVE NARRATIVE this one's in contention for my fave bc it's spezz coping w/retirement fundamental meaningless of existenc #u heard abt tyler already that's for me the minchy picture was just too good i had found it earlier & i spent SO LONG looking for an empty #leafs rink picture for bathtub i have some cool construction photos but i wanted the melting ice ones (thought about tahoe lol) & the sprin #one i manip'd a lot bc i needed a spring picture bc playoffs clinch in spring & that one fit so coincidentally perfect bc it's 7 straight #seasons 7 guys so. :) & i KNEW i swore to god they did more milk advertising i knew i was gonna do this one from the minute i saw the poem #the milk patch & it took a hot minute BUT I FOUND THIS ONE this one's for funsies. AND THE PIC I WAITED SO FUCKING LONG FOR this is actuall #from kerf's wedding but i was like i know on god mitch is getting married this summer & that's about to be the drunkest shenanigans wedding #i'm waiting for the pics. & then i was BLESSED with this one which is beautiful & perfect & LOOK AT THEM. anyway the last one is bc

[youremyonlyhope]

why won't my brain shut up why won't my brain shut up why won't my brain shut up why won't my brain shut up

#i'm overthinking something that i did and was told off for doing by my director #and on my way home i was thinking when was the last time i was even talked to like that during a production #and then i remembered the costume experience from hell of only a couple months ago that i've already began blocking out #but the thing is that that person was someone i knew i'd never have to work with again #i mean at first i thought i would have to work with them more. then they announced they were moving away immediately #so i only had to deal with them face to face for another weekish after that point and anytime they yelled at me #i was like 'cool. i'll do exactly what you say to do. and nothing more.' but then of course me being me #i did some extra stuff and they initially were like 'oh that's pretty' and then days later told me to cut everything i added #and like sure i get that the show was frozen but girl. that costume was unfinished. i was trying to finish it. it was frozen but looked bad #anyway. whenever they yelled at me and had actual malice in their heart i was like whatever. i was hurt. but i didn't care as much. #but this time it's someone i've worked with many many times before and it was about a habit i have that i know isn't great #but at the same time the thing that prompted it wasn't even me doing this habit it was something else #but she interpreted it as that habit and said that i can't do that on a production she's directing #and that if i couldn't stop then i could pull out from the production and there'd be no hard feelings between us #and honestly i think her reassuring that she knows i'm valuable and that she wants me there while also telling me not to do this thing #and the fact that she's someone i like working with and will continue to work with just made it all hurt so much more #especially since she referenced another past production we've done where i didn't even realize she had noticed that i do this. #and i found myself in near tears. and still am kind of in near tears. i can't decide if i need to cry or not. #and i had NO sleep last night so i was looking forward to sleeping tonight but now i'm just overthinking EVERYTHING #and like. i know everything will be fine. if i just stop inserting myself and stick to just my specific tasks. it'll be fine. #but this is one of the ways my ocd manifests. i feel like i have to personally fix something i notice going wrong. or it'll be bad. #because every single time i choose to sit back and not be nosy when i notice something it ends up bad in a way i could have prevented #if i just inserted myself in a situation i technically wasn't part of but knew i could help or fix. so i just need to not do that. #but then i feel guilt if it does go wrong in the ways i immediately assumed it would and in a way i could prevent. #and i've been trying to work on this for like 6 months and aaaahhhh it's hard and being called out on it from her just really really hurt #i still may or may not cry. i don't know. the irony of me telling my therapist THIS MORNING that it's been a while since i last cried. #and the universe being like 'i took that as a challenge' and handing me this situation for me to spiral over. #i need to leave things alone. i need to stare straight ahead. and ignore whatever isn't specifically for me to do. but ahhh i want to help #and then of course my mom has this same habit and it annoys me when she does it yet i do it to other people and ahhhhhhhh #brain please just shut up. i need to sleep. i have to work tomorrow.

[usareiis]

Not listening to her album because I can't bear hearing one song about liking a man 🙏

#seeing that tatooed golden retriever line sent me over an edge this morning 😭 #breaking up with a man is the least interesting thing in the entire world to me idc idc idc #her and i have fallen off hard and i don't even care #with the last album it was like well it was bad to me but different phases at different times etc #but the rerecordings have gotten increasingly boring and i don't care about the men like normie straight girls do #and her fandom was already massively lesphobic but she has gotten increasingly comfortable with going oh my god don't say i am a lesbian... #...please god that's the worst thing in the world you could be oh my god stop look at my puppy boyfriend uwu #i don't even give a fuck if she is or not or what any of the songs have ever been about but being a lesbian it's like uh well actually... #... it's really bothersome to hear women upset at the idea of being a lesbian like it's so terrible and freakish #i like being a lesbian more than i want to hear her music now #and the way her popularity being bigger than it ever has been right at the time she's doing the worst things ever has just made a cult of.. #...normie girls who are just reveling in her being the face of being straight normie is very off putting #the racist guy and the planes and the being a billionare while making the most soulest music you have ever made... #some of this has been going on all along and i guess i was at a point where i was ignoring it that i have grown out of but it's gotten worse #anyway <3

[iknowwhereyousleepatnight]

realized my math was wrong for how many credits i need and i need 2 more credits in any elective so i've just been looking through for the funniest classes to take. rn i've found an online walking class. where you walk. but it's an online class. it's worth 2 credits i might do it

#also found that u can take a self defense class for a single credit #there's also a weed science class and honestly i don't know if they're talking abt drugs or like plants but that's funny #there's also a baking class that only meets once a week for like 6 hours into the night ? #wild stuff but they don't have my beloved beekeeping class that i wouldn't've been able to take anyway but it makes me sad #after a lot of thought i've decided to take a poetry class #i like poetry it's fun i think i'll like it #more work for me though i'm taking a lot of classes in the fall and like 3 in the summer but it'll be cool i think and a lot of them #are half a semester classes so it'll be fineee it'll be okay i'll be great and then i'll graduate and then i'll figure smth else out ig #it has been pointed out to me that i don't *have to* go straight into grad school but also i don't think there are any good jobs to get w #just a psych bachelors. i've been considering an online grad school bc i'm like so tired and i don't want to live in dorms and i don't care #for the psych graduate degrees my current school offers :/ #ugh whatever it's annoying to think abt anyway today i slept like 10 hours and i just got up a few hours ago but i'm still tired i kinda #want to take a nap but i have school boooo i should be allowed to sleep 16 hours every day but apparently that's not possible without #sacrifices that will ruin my future or whatever idk i think just for me they should make days like 36 hours so i can sleep and get #stuff done i think i deserve that

[amethyst-halo]

i said this morning i wasn't as mad abt shadow but. i am like trying not to think abt it bc it just. genuinely i fucking hate it

#asc shadow #asc spoilers #warrior cats spoilers #wc spoilers #sketch speaks #yknow what wouldve made more sense to me? sunbeam swearing off of love entirely. shutting off that part of her relationships. #just going ''fuck this actually'' and distancing herself from everyone #bc- i havent read it myself yet but- at NO POINT has she EVER given me the impression that she is In Love with nightheart #i think she likes the idea that he loves her i don't think it went any further than that #so YEAH i think she should be hurt and mad about him dipping out on her but i DONT think it makes sense for her to fucking FOLLOW HIM #ALSO NIGHTHEART HAS BEEN NOTHING BUT CREEPY TOWARDS HER IMO SO THIS IS JUST RED FLAG NIGHTMARE #it is not cute they've known each other for like. a month at most #im sorry but even irl you should not marry someone you've known for a month tops #It's Weird and i Don't Like It #i straight up don't want to read any more of asc #i'm not mad abt anyone liking how this is going or anything this rage is pointed solely at the erins #if u like it u do u but i have my own opinions on this

[ectoplasmer]

rainy looked at pictures of her f/os for too long and is on the verge of tears. normal thursday night activities

#LISTEN LISTEN. they’re just too pretty for me to handle okay #i think this is like a major red flag but i also do not care right now #i don't think it's just their looks or anything #though i won't lie i do get overwhelmed by things i deem pretty way too much. #(totally do not pace around the room aimlessly for five minutes straight after looking at fanart)/hj #but like. i think it has something to do with acknowledging/knowing about all they've been through??? #like I'm seeing these characters and I've known they've witnessed and been subjected to some pretty messed up things. i've seen them- #-unhappy and angered and upset. by watching this series i've watched them go through a ton of heavy things in their fictional little lives #but it's seeing them portrayed as happy that messes me up. it's seeing them live normal lives and being displayed as peacefuf- #-and being seen as semi-normal for a moment that gets to me #like... they deserve to be happy. they deserve to have normal lives. they deserve all the things canon didn't really indulge them in enough #(or even at all in some cases) #i get so hyped up on the idea of them just being able to exist without worrying about the problems of canon that it gets to my head #and then i get all stupid and emotional because i'm a sad sap #i dunno. i just think they deserve a lot of things. it makes me happy seeing them receive normalcy so much so i- #-get teary eyed over it or whatever #something about just witnessing these characters in their entirety and knowing them from the inside out... knowing all the things they- #-faced and never got to get. and then you see them get those things through other twists of fiction and ideas from the fandom #it's instant serotonin okay </3 #idk what the whole point of this post was but #anyway. normal rainy behavior. do not worry #rainy.file

[myownfavourite]

.

#for like 3 weeks straight I haven’t been going to bed #I have just been awake until I pass out which could be my most unhealthy thing yet #but I literally don’t even think about it and then I pass out which means I am barely sleeping #I still believe I will push through this #even though I am now aware it's the burnout that has gotten to the point of me being completely burnt out again #and I don't know what to do

[astraystayyh]

pieces of you

single dad!chan. x fem!reader

genre : neighbors!au. fluff. angst. slow burn. mutual pining. 8.7k wc

summary : In which you and chan are each other's missing pieces. Alternatively, Chris and his daughter come knocking at your apartment asking for flour, and he's no longer embarrassed when you open the door.

a.n. : my chris best girl dad agenda is going strong!!!!!! my second fic for the winter falls collab with my writer xi hehe i hope you will all enjoy reading!! feedback is highly appreciated 🤍 the song chris will write for sowon is light by sleeping at last, highly recommend listening to it!!

winter falls masterlist.

i. 

“I can’t believe you’re making me do this.”

“Shh, daddy smile.”

Soft murmurs linger just beyond your door, elusive words that could easily be dismissed as figments of your imagination. However, any doubt in your mind dissipates with three resounding knocks, jolting you from your momentary contemplation. 

A reluctant groan escapes you as you glance down at your attire—a loosely hanging oversized hoodie, a testament to the numerous times it has been tugged down, and a pair of pajama pants whose matching top has mysteriously vanished. Clearly, you don't feel presentable enough to welcome anyone at this late hour. So, you remain motionless, futilely lowering the TV volume in hopes that whoever's behind the door will just continue with their night. But the knocks persist against your wish, so, with a resigned sigh, you rise from your seat, your blanket cascading to the ground in a soft descent.

“What–” the words dissolve in your mouth like a sweet nectar as you open the door, your eyes beholding no one in your periphery. A slight tug at your pants draws your attention downward, only to find the most adorable child your eyes have ever laid on. She's clad in Rapunzel-themed pajamas, wolf slippers bumping into your plain ones, and, to your surprise, a whisk cradled in her small hand. 

“Hey there,” your voice softens as you crouch to meet her warm gaze. You find an innocent happiness gleaming in her eyes, a radiant spark shining even beneath the corridor's muted light. Two dimples adorn her cheeks as she smiles at you. 

“Hi, my dad wants to tell you something,” she says, pointing with her whisk to the very end of the hallway. You crane your neck, trying to catch a glimpse of the elusive figure. 

“Your dad?”

“Mm. He’s a bit shy, that’s why he’s hiding,” she confides in a whisper. But, despite her earnest attempt, her words still resound loudly in the vacant space, causing giggles to spill out of your mouth. 

“And you aren’t shy?” you inquire, tilting your head. 

“Nu-uh,” she shakes her head with conviction as someone emerges behind her. She instinctively wraps an arm around their leg, nestling her cheek against their thigh. 

She isn't shy because she feels protected.

You rise from your place, eyes locking with a familiar shade of brown. Only these hold a mesmerizing quality to them making your very breath catch in your throat. Kindness pours from his gaze as it travels down your face, a sentiment that further materializes as delicate smile lines stitch around the corner of his eyes.  

He’s beautiful. 

Your eyes trail down to two pairs of dimples, mirroring the ones of his daughter perfectly. She is his living portrait, sharing his eyes, lips, and smile. Yet, his cheeks blush in a hue she does not possess, while his left hand fiddles with his earlobe, in an unspoken, timid gesture. For some odd reason, it pierces straight through your heart.

“Sorry for bothering you,” a smooth Australian accent rolls off his tongue, similar to rich butter spread on warm bread- it infuses your being with tingles pulsating from the base of your toes. You suddenly no longer miss your blanket.

“I'm your next-door neighbor. We were just making cookies and we realized we actually  don’t have flour,” he explains, a bashful smile imprinted onto his lips. 

“You didn’t check beforehand?” you ask, laughter tinting your voice. 

“I forgot,” he admits, but his tone sounds almost sad as if beating himself over it. A fleeting shadow veils his face briefly, dissipating like a passing cloud grazing the sun.

“Can we borrow some from you? I told Sowon that we could go to the store but she said it’s too cold out,” he asks, his hand resting on his daughter’s shoulder soothingly. 

“It is too cold out,” you agree with a frown, looking down at Sowon to which she smiles brightly, happy to have your support. 

“And of course, I'll bring you flour. Don’t worry about it. Do you want to come in meanwhile?”

“It's okay, we'll wait here. Don’t want to intrude.” 

“Thank you!” Sowon beams, her missing tooth in full display. 

“Yeah, thank you so much…” he trails out, tilting his head as if to silently inquire about your name.

“Yn. And you?”

“Chris.”

“Nice to meet you, Chris,” you smile, shaking his extended hand. His fingers wrap around your palm, and it feels as if you’re grasping thunder, crackling with an electricity that your eyes can’t behold, yet your soul does, suddenly illuminated from within. 

Your smile grows as you detach yourself from his hold, before bending forward to bop Sowon’s nose. “And nice to meet you too Rapunzel.” 

Your words make her hide behind her father’s leg, peeking out slightly to look at you. 

“See I'm not the only one who gets shy,” Chan chuckles, and Sowon whines in complaint, further burying her face in her dad’s grey sweatpants. 

Adorable, so much it stirs a long-forgotten melancholy within your being. 

“She gets a pass, she's still young, right Sowon?”

“Are you calling me old then?” Chan fakes outrage, bringing one hand to his chest while the other cradles Sowon’s back. 

“Old enough to forget about flour,” you wink and he laughs, looking down at your slippers. 

“Touché.” 

A few minutes go by before you come back, a recipient full of flour in your hands. The sight before you makes you pause in your tracks– Chris, leaning against the wall, Sowon propped on his hip, her arms loosely hanging around his neck, her eyes closed. 

“Did she…” you whisper and he turns to you. 

“Yeah, fell asleep,” he smiles fondly, tucking a few strands of her hair behind the curve of her ear. “She’ll be disappointed when she wakes up to no cookies. She wanted us to have a baking holiday tradition.”

“You don’t know how to make them?” 

“No, I was counting on a six-year-old to assist me,” he chuckles quietly, prompting a snort from you. 

“Well, keep the flour, in case you need it again.” 

“Thank you, Yn,” he grins, the smile taking over his entire face, grabbing the recipient from you. 

“You’re welcome Chris,” you say, as you both linger around the door still, not making any attempt to move. 

Your eyes refuse to peel away from his, as if there were a magnetic force drawing you to him, telling you that your gaze belonged to rest on him.

“Uhm,” he clears his throat, leaning away from the wall. “I'll get going.”

“Yeah, sleep well, Chris.”

“Thank you,” he smiles before turning around. 

An idea brews in your head, a germ sprouted by the clear adoration in which Sowon gazed at her dad, and the disappointment in his face as he said he would no longer be making cookies. Had you wished to dig a little deeper, you would’ve also found a long-buried feeling of a little girl who would have loved holiday traditions as well. You close the door before heading straight to your kitchen. 

One hour later 

You knock softly on Chris’ door, fidgeting from one foot to another. You almost retract back to your apartment after your fourth knock, when the door finally opens, Chris coming into your line of sight. 

“Hi,” you greet, hands behind your back. 

“Hey,” he smiles, leaning his arm on the doorway, right above your head. He tilts his head to the side, silently wondering what you want. The words dissolve in your mouth at the way his eyes fixate on you as if trying to peer behind your irises onto your mind. 

“Cookies,” you bring the plate before him, as his eyes grow wide, an incredulous smile drawn on his lips. 

“You made them?” 

“Yeah, didn't want Sowon to be disappointed,” you shrug and his eyes grow wild, racking all over your face in disbelief. 

“You didn't have to do this,” he finally says, tone softening, syllables ringing like a sweet sonnet in your ears. 

“I know. I wanted to. and I'm a baker so making cookies comes easily to me, don't worry about it,” you shrug sheepishly, biting your lower lip slightly. You felt scrutinized by him in ways you haven't felt before. 

“Thank you, Yn, I don’t even know what to say,” he says, his smile resembling a beam of light. A surge of pride courses through you at managing to bring it forth. 

“No need to say anything. I hope I didn't wake you up,” you smile sheepishly and he shakes his head. 

“No, I- I was working in my studio and Sowon is asleep. It's just us two. Always has been,” he adds, tone slightly changing, air growing heavier between you both. It's just them two. 

“Studio?” you inquire, hoping to dispel the tension latching around you both. 

“I'm a music producer,” he clarifies. “I made a studio here so I could stay the night with Sowon.” 

“I'm sure she appreciates that,” you say as you hand the plate to him. His fingertips brush against your own, and a slight electricity courses through you at the touch, the hallway suddenly brighter from the fireworks ricocheting off of you both.

“I…. I'll get going.”

“Yeah, yeah, don't want to take more of your time.”

“I'll see you around.” 

“Yeah, I'll see you,” he says, words not ringing carelessly into the air, sounding more like a promise. He'll see you, he'll make sure of it. 

ii. 

“Can you wait!” a voice echoes near the building entrance, and you prevent the elevator doors from closing as hurried steps near you. 

You recognize the voice easily by the light tingles running down your spine, the Australian accent shooting straight through your heart. Its owner materializes, Chris— leather jacket hugging his muscles snuggly, black t-shirt tucked into a pair of blue jeans, cap nestled on his head, rebellious strands of ebony hair peeking behind it.

You find the breath knocked out of you once again at his sight. He's beautiful, even more so in broad daylight, where every feature of his comes to life, beckoning, demanding your sole attention. 

“Hey, Yn,” he smiles in delight, uttering your name in a familiarity that infuses your being with warmth. Even though you've only talked once, two days ago. 

“Hey, Chris,” you greet back, pressing the fourth elevator button again. you face the mirror to find Chris already looking at you, his eyes instantly locking with yours. 

“The cookies were good,” he smiles softly and you grin. “I'm glad you think so.” 

“Where is your bakery? I need to taste more of your baking.” 

The butterflies in your stomach tone down at his words, your attraction momentarily forgotten as gratitude coats your heart instead.

“I can text you the address?” you propose. 

“Yeah, here,” he takes out his phone, a picture of him and Sowon set as his lock screen— their cheeks are pressed tightly to one another, messily done eyeliner on both their eyes. you giggle to yourself as you grab the device.

“Cute picture,” you muse and he brings an arm to his neck, scratching the side of it timidly. 

“She insists on trying her makeup on me.” 

“She makes you look better,” you giggle and he rolls his eyes, tongue poking against his cheek. 

“She wants to become a stylist,” he explains, as the elevator doors open. He lets you out first, arm stretched forward.

“I find her passion really cute so I buy her anything she asks for,” he shrugs and you chuckle, pointing to the bag of pink ribbons he is carrying. 

“Let me guess, she wants to use these on you?”

“Yeah. She also said that I quote ‘need to learn new hairstyles because her friends always come to class with intricate braids, and she can't go to class with a simple one.’” He repeats, tone growing slightly high-pitched as he mimics his daughter's words. Yet, the fond smile on his face is louder, screaming of his love for her. 

“She has you wrapped around your finger,” you muse, leaning against your door. The keys in your bag are long forgotten. 

“She can be very scary for such a little girl.” 

“What does she threaten you with?” you ask, feigning horror. 

“No goodnight kisses,” he whispers, as if scared she'd hear him beyond the wooden door. 

“Torture,” you gasp, placing your hand on his shoulder reassuringly. Yet, the smiles slip out of your face instantly. Was it normal for clothes to dissolve under your touch, layers of cotton and leather doing nothing to stop the warmth of his skin from seeping through you? Was it normal to be so affected by such an innocent touch? 

“Uhm,” you clear your throat, “I can help you. with her hair, I mean.” 

“You don't have to. I already took too much from your time with the cookies,” he seems truly apologetic, his tone sobering as if despising others doing things for him. You see yourself in him, in the way he wants to carry the world’s burden on his shoulders. It is a reflection you wish to mend. 

“I don't mind, I remember feeling jealous of the other girls in my school so I made myself learn all the braids.” 

And then you see his gratefulness, the twinkle in his eyes that you can only grasp for a millisecond before they disappear into moon crescents. Happiness looks grand on him, overtaking his entire face, brightening his features with a glow too ethereal to be of mankind, as if they were carved to translate joy. You find yourself willing to give up more of your time to see it.

“Thank you,” he breathes out and you nod, a grin taking over your face as well. 

“You’re welcome. Let me just change my clothes.” 

☃︎⋆꙳•❅

“And then, you pull the right strand all over to the middle one. Then you repeat, this way the ribbon is braided into the hair,” you explain to a very concentrated Chris, his eyebrows furrowed as he follows your movements. 

“It looks easy when you do it,” he frowns and you giggle, handing the mirror to Sowon so she'd be able to look at her hair. 

“Do you like it,” you ask, a tad apprehensive and she beams, dimples that almost swallow her chubby cheeks surging forth. 

“Pretty!” she exclaims and you giggle, bopping her nose. “You are pretty.”

“And you are pretty too. right, daddy?”

You turn back to find Chris watching you, a smile so fond on his face that it renders your insides putty, coats your cheek in the palest shade of pink.

“Very much so,” he says, tone quieter, his eyes never leaving yours. 

Sowon suddenly climbs on her dad’s lap, star and moon stickers in hand. She places them all over his face, and he sits there diligently, arms wrapped around her midriff so she won't slip away. Every carefully placed sticker is punctuated by a soft gasp from him and a small giggle from her. You could feel the love radiating from both of them, a feeling so strong it made your heart twist in your chest. 

Were there red neon exits you weren’t aware of in your being? Ones through which love trickled away all these years ago? Were the spaces between your fingers carved to hold someone’s hand, or to make everything you've ever wanted slip from your grasp?

“What do you think?” Sowon startles you and you force a smile on your face, willing the heaviness in your heart to dissipate. There were questions you'd never find the answers to, you had to make peace with that.

“I love it!” you grin and Sowon nods, satisfied. You look down at your lap as Chris fixates his eyes on you, a worried crease growing between his eyebrows. 

“Fun is over, you need to do your homework, Miss Bang,” he scolds and you snort, as Sowon rolls her eyes slightly. 

“Did you just roll your eyes at me?” he fakes offense and you giggle as Sowon huffs slightly. “Dad, I told you I have no homework. I already did it with uncle Felix.” 

“Oh, right,” he deflates slightly before brightening up once again, “then, you should put away all these hairbrushes and ribbons, okay?”

“Will you watch a movie later with me?”

“Of course, baby.”

“Okay then,” she grins, quickly standing up to start putting away her things. you smile, getting up your turn to leave. Chris understands and stands with you on cue. 

“You can stay and watch the movie with us.”

“It's okay, I have some things to work on,” you turn around, but then you feel his fingers wrapping around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. 

“Are you okay?” he asks, hand still burning straight through your skin, igniting a million nerve ends with a simple touch. You avoid his eyes, looking down at the ground. It seems to be response enough for him. 

“We’re conditioned to say yes even when we aren’t, right?” he speaks softly, his words travel through your veins in a rapid course against the current of your blood— which one will reach your heart first and flood it? 

Your facade cracks. His voice wins. 

“So, you don't have to reply now,” his thumb swipes once across your pulse. “But I'll be here if you ever wish to tell the truth.” 

iii.

You’ve grown exceptionally fond of Chris in the span of mere months, more than you would like to admit to yourself. It was an easy task, as natural as the current of a waterfall. Yet, you did not plan for it, for a new emotion to settle on top of your lungs, to make you more aware of your heart and how it beats, slightly faster, around Chris. But it happened serendipitously, against all odds, when he knocked on your door at 10 p.m. asking for salt.

“Should I start buying groceries for you?” you joked, and it took Chris a millisecond longer to respond, his gaze wandering across your face, as if discovering the world’s eighth wonder, hidden in plain sight all these years. 

“For my defense, I have a daughter that likes experimenting with cooking,” he smiled, and you raised an eyebrow at him. 

“Just with salt?”

“She added four teaspoons of it in an omelet. Then forced me to eat it because I always tell her food shouldn't go to waste,” he shudders at the memory and you chuckle loudly. 

Chris knocks on the doors of your heart, once.

It happened when you spotted a cockroach the size of your palm on your bedroom wall. You would’ve killed it, you were going to, except it started flying towards you and you let out a loud shriek you didn’t know your vocal chords were capable of conjuring. So, you called Chris. 

“Can you please come over,” you murmured, crouching near the entrance door, a pair of slippers in your hand.

“Why are you whispering? are you okay?” he sounded worried, and you heard the turning of a lock as he opened the door to his apartment. He didn’t ask questions, instantly coming to your aid. A sudden urge to weep filled your being at his gesture. 

“There is a cockroach. a flying one,” you precised, horror dripping from your tongue and his laugh flooded your ear, tiny squeaks that made your hold on the slipper grow limp. 

“I'm from Australia,” he knocked on your door, and you stood up promptly. “I've seen worse,” he said once you finally opened it, his eyes softening incredibly when they met yours. 

He did kill the cockroach, by spraying your insect repellent enough times to asphyxiate you too. “I don't think I can sleep in there tonight,” you sighed, gulping down ice cold water, “why does it feel like we went through war?” 

“We? You were behind my back all the time.”

 “I was cheering you on, from afar. Spiritually.”

 “I can’t believe a cockroach scares you this much.”

 “You literally screamed when it flied towards you too.”

 “I didn't scream! I made a very manly, non-terrified sound.”

 “Mm, sure,” you giggled, voice softening at the blushing of the tip of his ears. Chris didn't have to force the door down to your heart, you willingly opened it for him. 

And after that, it was a race to find the silliest excuses to see one another. Chris suddenly taking up an inkling for baking, you manifesting a newfound interest in music, Sowon needing her makeup done for a dance, Chris visiting you in your bakery, Sowon craving your cookies and you teaching her the recipe, Chris knocking on your door and you knocking on his. The same giddy smiles on your faces as you usher each other in. And it always, always ending with a movie night. 

“Let's watch Tangled,” Sowon exclaims, clapping her hands excitedly. 

“Baby, we watched this movie for the past…” he looks at you for support. “Three,” you whisper, a bashful smile on your face. “Yeah, for the past three movie nights,” he whines slightly.

“But I love it,” she says, her pout morphing into a huge grin. “Again! Again! Again!”

“Fine,” he concedes, mouthing “save me,” from afar to you. You giggle softly while Sowon cozies up to your side, your arm naturally draping across her body while her legs stretch atop Chris’ lap, naturally, as if having you both by her side was the way things have always been. The only reality she’s ever known.

It is a fleeting fifty minutes as the three of you watch the movie, Sowon reciting excitedly the lines that she seems to remember. But then the quiet is replaced by her soft snores, her body growing light against you.

“She fell asleep,” you whisper, tapping Chris’ shoulder to catch his attention. He tilts his head to the side, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips as his eyes land on his daughter. 

“I'm sorry you have to watch the same movie every time,” he says apologetically and you shake your head. 

“I don't mind. Tangled is a good movie.” 

“Are you here just because of the movie?” he smiles, dimples peeking through. The juxtaposition between the weight of his words and the soft expression on his face makes a buzzing warmth spread through you. He’s cold and hot, in and out, yours but not. 

“What do you want me to be here for?” you throw back, squeezing his shoulder slightly. 

“The company.”

“I do find Sowon entertaining.”

“Just her?” he pouts and you giggle, tipping your head back. 

“And you too, I suppose, by extension.”

“By extension, mm,” he hums, as he gathers Sowon in his arms, freeing her from your hold. “Then I guess I shouldn't come visit you in your bakery anymore. Since you only enjoy my presence by extension.”

“So sassy,” you shout-whisper as you both walk to Sowon's bedroom, “I like your company too, idiot.” 

“Yeah?” he turns back to look at you, tone a tad bit too hopeful. He doesn’t care that he sounds eager for your approval, not when he feels as if he can only truly breathe when you're near. 

“Yeah, Chris, I really do,” you speak earnestly, and Chris bites his lower lip slightly, suddenly overwhelmed by the gentleness of your tone. Your eyes follow his action instantly. 

He lowers Sowon gently onto the bed and she stirs awake, blinking repeatedly at the both of you. “Yn,” she calls out quietly once her eyes land on yours and you kneel before her bed. Chris watches from the door entrance as Sowon cups her hand near your ear, before whispering something to you. He notices your body stiffening, your gaze fleeting to him before you relax, pressing a kiss to her cheek. 

He wishes he could freeze time, stitch this moment into his eyelids until it is the only thing he sees when he goes to sleep. Loneliness is too big of an enemy for one person to fight off, but it seems more harmless when you are near. 

Chris sees you right here, every night, not forcing your place into his family, but falling seamlessly into place. Perhaps you were the missing piece that’ll soothe the burn in his heart. Perhaps he’d let you in, even as fear paralyzes his being at the mere thought of asking you to stay. 

One week later. 

You've grown used to the knocks on your door at ungodly hours of the night, Chris seeking your company each time you both fail to fall asleep. Except this time, there is a chilling premonition in your heart as you walk to your home’s entrance, anxiety coiling like a steel ball in your throat. 

“What’s wrong?” you ask upon opening the door, locking eyes with Chris's bloodshot gaze.

“Sowon,” he heaves, tone laden with fear, so different from how he usually pronounces her name. The syllables pierce through your heart like an arrowhead dipped in alarm. 

“Sowon?” you question, peering behind him to his slightly ajar apartment door.

“Yes, she has a high fever, and it won’t come down. I tried everything, and I-I don’t know what to do anymore. She’s shaking, but I can’t—”He trembles, his quivers akin to delicate chinaware on the precipice of an earthquake, poised to shatter at your feet. You'd plunge to the ground first, anything to soften his impending collapse.  

“It’s okay,” you soothe, your voice soft as you grasp his wrist. “Let’s go see her, okay?”

“It's her first time being this sick,” he whispers, clearly distraught, one hand running through his freshly dyed blonde hair. 

“It's okay. Don’t panic, it happens. Did you give her medicine?”

“Yes, a few minutes ago,” he replies as you guide him towards her room.

“Good, it'll start working soon,” you reassure, opening the door and crouching before Sowon.

“Hey, Rapunzel,” you coo softly, and Sowon attempts to muster a smile. Her cheeks flush, eyes dim like withered petals.

“How are you feeling?” you ask, pressing your hand to her feverish forehead. You cast a wary glance at Chan, who's anxiously biting his thumb.

“Cold,” she whispers, and you nod, peeling off her blanket. “I know you are, but you have a high fever. We need to let it cool down, okay?”

“I-I’m shaking,” Sowon sighs, lower lip protruding and trembling, both from the iciness clawing at her frail being, and the tears welling in her waterline, like a cup on the brink of overflowing. 

“Shh, don't cry. It will pass, it's okay,” you murmur soothingly, cradling her face on your lap, gently moving damp strands of her hair behind her ear.

“Chris, can you bring me a towel and a bowl with cold water?” you ask softly, and the man startles, painfully peeling his eyes away from his daughter, as if doing so would consign her to a dark fate.

“Sure. Sure,” he repeats, scurrying out of the room.

Sowon buries her cheek in your thigh, small hands clinging tightly to yours. You tie her hair up into a loose bun as Chan hurriedly comes back, a bassinet in his hand.

“Thank you,” you smile, as he kneels beside the bed, his hand resting on Sowon’s knee gently.

��Hey sweetheart,” he coos softly, and Sowon blinks at him, light spilling over her face. 

“Hey daddy,” she replies as you dip the towel into the water, before squeezing the fabric to remove any liquid excess. 

“You're being so strong. I love you so much my pretty girl,” he says, bringing her small hand to rest upon his cheek, bestowing a gentle kiss on her palm. 

The moment feels so intimate, so tender, that you almost feel like an intruder. You imagine this is what thorns on roses must feel like, so out of place amid delicate petals and stems. 

“I love you too,” she grins, and you remain silent, diligently wiping her face and neck with the dampened towel. You soon lose track of the number of times you've repeated this motion, but Sowon’s eyes are now closed and her body is no longer trembling. 

You rest your palm upon her forehead, a sigh of relief escaping your body as you realize that her fever has gone down noticeably- the medicine finally taking effect.

“It's better now,” you smile reassuringly and Chris’s eyes widen, irises shaking as he looks back to his daughter. 

“Will she be okay?” 

“She will be. She just needs to sleep a bit.” 

“Okay, thank you.” 

“Can we prepare her something to eat meanwhile?” 

“Mm,” he absentmindedly nods, his fingers trailing down Sowon’s features delicately, resting upon her round cheeks. 

"She looks just like you," you softly smile.

"I know," he admits, not with pride but in surrender, as if his reflection was nothing but a cursed fate. His voice tastes like ocean water, salty, acid, suffocating.

“Chris…” you trail off and he shakes his head, abruptly standing up. 

“Let's make her chicken noodle soup. She loves it,” he says and you nod. A ticking bomb resides in his veins, devoid of a countdown, leaving you unsure of when he'll finally explode. 

You get your answer soon after—it takes two minutes and thirty-three seconds for the first tear to roll down Chris’s cheek. You spot it as you retrieve carrots from the fridge, averting your gaze as Chan angrily wipes it away.

A few seconds later, five tears follow the same agonizing trail, and now the knife is shaking in Chris’s hands. He squeezes his eyes shut as if frustrated by his pain, by the emotions escaping through the cracks in his heart.

You stay silent, bringing the water to a simmer.

The clank of metal against the counter snaps your attention, and you see Chris with his head lowered down, his hands tightly clutching the counter.

Your tongue moves before you can order it to speak. 

"Chris," you call out, your hand finding its place on his back. An ugly sob escapes his lips, a raw cry unearthed from the depths of the soil where he buried his feelings, never allowing himself the grace of grieving, then moving on. 

“I'm a horrible father,” he utters so brokenly as if this idea were cemented into his head, woven into every thought of himself—an adjective that lingers like a phantom each time Sowon calls him dad.

“You're not, what are you saying?” you gently turn him around so he'd face you. But his eyes remain downcast, as if ashamed to meet your gaze. 

“I didn't know what to do. I panicked. I-I wasn't enough to help her.”

“It's okay, you can't know everything, you are trying your best-”

“No, no, no, it's not just about this!” he snaps,  despair clinging to his eyes as he finally looks at you. “It’s hard. It’s so hard to be here alone, and I- I try but it's not enough, I can't do everything and I'm not a good enough parent for her, there will a-always be something missing.” 

“You're wrong,” you say but he shakes his head in disagreement. “Chris, you're wrong,” you cradle his face, taking you both by surprise. Your thumb swipes gently underneath the skin of his eyes, wiping his cascading tears. 

“You love Sowon. And she can feel it, she can see it, she can hear it. Everyone can. A parent can't be perfect, but they should love. And you love her.” 

“What if I can't even love her enough for a father? How will I ever fill the role of two parents?” he's leaning onto your palm, hanging onto your every word. You'd sit for hours and untangle every thread of his mind if you have to, until you single out the infested one and burn it away. 

“She loves you Chris. She looks at you as if you hang every star in the sky. As if you're responsible for every good thing that happens in our world. She loves you and you love her.”

You gaze up at the ceiling, tears welling in your eyes. Chan notices the subtle tremble in your hand against his cheek.

“If I had someone who loved me as much as you love Sowon when I was a child, I would've turned out so differently,” you smile bitterly, swallowing down the lump in your throat. 

“You won't be a perfect dad. You can't be. But she won't grow up with a throbbing heart, pulsating because of a void that cannot be filled. Her veins won't be poisoned by hate and abandonment. Because she knows what it's like to be loved,” you pause, as your voice breaks, traitorous tears rolling down your cheeks. “To be cared for.” 

Your eyes hold his in a silent conversation, secretly telling him what your tongue cannot speak of— Sowon, an untarnished blossom, won't unfurl into a solitary flower the way you did.

“I'm sorry,” he whispers after a while, eyes softening in understanding. His knuckles brush gently against your cheek. 

“Why are you apologizing?” 

“So you'd find a reason within you to forgive,” he says, as he leans forward to press a tender kiss on your forehead. And somehow it feels more intimate than any way you've been touched before. 

Five days later.

chris [11:32 p.m.]: you up?

yn [11:32 p.m.]: i just got bad flashbacks to my college years

chris [11:33 p.m.]: ajaksjsbsbbs

chris [11:33 p.m.]: i didn’t mean it like that ㅠㅠ 

chris [11:33 p.m.]: wanna come over? i'm in the studio but im not feeling inspired 

yn [11:34 p.m.]: and how will i help? 

chris [11:34 p.m.]: i find your presence inspiring 

You don’t reply, instead putting on your slippers and walking over to his apartment. He opens the door before you even have the chance to knock. 

“What are you working on?” you ask once you’re settled atop his chair, spinning around slightly. He looks down at the pillow on his lap, lightly plucking its pink fur. “A song for Sowon,” he admits softly and your eyes grow a little wide. 

“That is so sweet,” you pout, inching closer to him. “How is it going?”

“I've finished the melody and now I'm working on the lyrics. There is just.. so much i want to tell her, i'm unsure if ill be able to express it well.” 

“Can I read what you wrote?” 

“Yeah. Yeah, sure,” he searches through his papers. “Here.”

May these words be the first to find your ears

The world is brighter than the sun now that you're here

I'll give you everything I have

I'll teach you everything I know

I promise I'll do better

I will soften every edge

I'll hold the world to its best

And I'll do better

Tears spring to your eyes unexpectedly, you try to stop their flow but they fall upon the paper, splattering like a broken mosaic, mimicking the brokenness of your own heart. 

“I'm sorry,” you spin around, your back to him as you attempt to dry your tears, and yet they show no desire to stop. Chris is in your heart and he’s kicking every other emotion out, forcing you to make amends with your sadness, the one you buried years, years ago. 

Chris gently grabs the back of the chair, pulling you back to him before spinning your chair once again until you are facing him. You bury your face in your hands and his rests reassuringly on your knee, squeezing it slightly. “Is it so bad it made you sob?” 

“Shut up, you know this isn’t the case.” 

His hand delicately traces up your arm, gently lifting your fingers from your face. He kneels before you, his thumb tenderly wiping away the traces of tears on your cheeks.

“Talk to me?” 

“It's so beautiful, so warm, so loving. Everything a parent should think of their child,” a traitorous hiccup escapes your lips. “Everything my parents never felt for me.” 

Chris’ mouth morphs into a pout, eyebrows scrunching tightly. You shake your head, smoothing down the worried crease between his eyes. 

“I don't feel sad over things I can't control and I love myself enough now to compensate for what I didn't have, but sometimes-'' your voice breaks, Chan’s hold on your hands tightens. “It stings to remember what could’ve been.” 

Stings was an understatement, it is rather a pulsating void, throbbing in ache every day, calling out for its missing piece. How can I fill you with what was lost when it chose to walk away? 

“Come here,” he whispers, coaxing you to your feet, his arms enveloping your body as he guides your head to the crook of his neck. His body runs warm, the material of his sweatshirt soft, and he smells nice too, the contours of his muscles tailor-made to complement the ridges of your own. 

“You grew up well, Yn. You did well.”

You clutch his shirt, tightening your grip as you fist the fabric in your palm. He's patting your back, and time slows down to match the rhythm of his touch. 

“Love can be hard, I know. Especially when the people who left are the ones supposed to be staying.” 

He understands, more than anyone you know. He missed out on a different kind of love too, two facets of the same coin. 

“You’re doing well too, Chris. You shouldn’t doubt yourself as much,” your arms trail up to encircle his neck, as his nose tickles your hair. You're the one hugging him now. “Sowon is really smart, she told me that she loves you a lot. She can feel it. She sees everything you do for her.”

“Is that what she told you that movie night?”

“Partly,” you whisper, and Chris leans away slightly, his warm palms still pressed to your waist, holding you close. 

“What else did she tell you?” he asks, curiosity barely hidden in his tone.

You pause for a while, eyes going over the entire room before finally locking on him.

“She thanked me, said that I make you smile more.” You suck in a deep breath, gathering your courage. “Do I?” 

“There are smile lines that don’t show on my face until you're near.” 

“Oh.” That is the only coherent response you can formulate, and Chris giggles, a tiny squeak escaping his lips in a huff. “Cute,” he murmurs, planting a tender kiss on your temple. His lips linger, holding onto the moment a beat longer than necessary, causing your eyes to close in delight. Both of you find yourselves blushing as he leans away, a shared warmth coloring the space between you.

“Sorry, didn't mean to make the mood somber,” you say sheepishly as you sit back down, eyeing Chris’s laptop. “I wanna hear this,” you quickly point to a random track on his screen before he can reply, hoping to make the sadness flee away.

“This one? It’s not really good, let's listen to something else,” his rambling and eagerness to change the track pique your curiosity and you quickly click on the song before he can stop you.

connected.mp3 starts playing. 

Sultry beats inundate your ears, weaving through your veins and whisking you away to the pulsating rhythm of a dance club. You knew Chris produced good music, yet you never fathomed that his voice could be so luxuriously rich, cascading over you like molten wax. You feel a blush rise to your cheeks at the suggestive lyrics, the innuendos peeking behind every word. And then, a sudden jealousy claws at your heart, at the thought of Chris hunched in his studio, fantasizing about connecting with someone who isn’t you. 

You wished to be the only one Chris liked. 

“It’s a- a demo for one of my clients,” he explains through a stutter once the song is done, and you nod meekly, willing your body’s temperature to go down, for the possessivity crinkling in you to fizzle out. 

So, you put on your best taunting smirk.

“I know you want me don’t crumble.. No need to be desperate we’re just getting started,” you sing-song back. “You were feeling so cocky when you wrote this, right?” you grin, inching your chair closer to his. “Feeling yourself, Mr. Bang?”

He chuckles with a hint of annoyance, running his tongue along the expanse of his lower lip. Leaning back into his chair, he casually spreads his legs a bit wider, a gesture that suddenly leaves you feeling dizzy, on him.

“It’s cute how affected you seem by it,” he throws nonchalantly, crossing his arms before his chest.

“I'm not,” you smile, although your erratic heartbeat spoke of a different tale, you just didn't need to voice it to him. “I think you were the one getting all hot and bothered in your studio,” you stand between his legs, hovering over him as he leans back fully in his chair. 

“I was thinking of a pretty girl.”

“Yeah?”

“Mm,” he suddenly grabs your waist, you feel like your entire body is ablaze. “The prettiest.”

"Who is she?" you exhale, teetering on the edge of crashing your lips onto his, like an incoherent love poem, hastily scrambled on a notebook in a fit of anger.

“y–” The door suddenly opens, Sowon’s small frame standing by the door, she’s rubbing her eyes tiredly, her chick plushie dangling from her hand (a gift from her uncle Felix as she explained to you). You quickly scramble away from Chris as he clears his throat loudly.

“Daddy, I can't sleep,” she says faintly, a tiny pout drawn on her lips, and you can see Chris physically melt at her words, at the way she paddles to his chair, and tries her best to climb up his legs. She fails to do so, so he quickly scopes her up his arms until she’s buried in his hold. Her small hands wound up around his neck, and he tenderly pats down her hair, his gaze never wavering from her frame.

“Want me to sing to you, sweetheart?”

“Yes,” she whispers, before making grabby hands at you, your heart softens like clay dough as you scoot closer, enclosing her fingers in your hold. 

“Sleep well, Sowonnie,” you whisper. 

“Can’t you stay with us?” she asks and you feel your blood freeze in your veins, your heart skipping three beats at once.

To stay. What a frightening concept. Even more scary when you realize that you aren’t opposed to it. 

You yearn to stay, for the first time in years, you wish you could. 

You swallow the growing lump in your throat, before smiling reassuringly. “I'll stay till you fall asleep.” 

Conditions, it is the way it has always been for you. staying till you’re no longer useful, staying till you're no longer wanted. Staying, but always with a time limit, always with an expiration date. 

iv. 

You’re avoiding him. 

Chris knows you are, since you no longer come over to his house, claiming that you’re tired, or that you have an important order to bake for the next day. He would have believed you had he not seen you only once in the past three weeks. 

Those were excuses, and each one of them weighed heavily on Chris’ heart, on his home too, his studio particularly, the one that got used to the sound of your laugh. 

He misses you. He never thought he’d miss someone again, craving you presence as if every breath leaving his body depended on you. He wasn’t a stranger to intimacy, fleeting hookups every now and then. Strangers invited him to their bed, knowing what they were signing up for– one night of pleasure, never to be seen again, their faces blurring into an indistinct mass in his mind, like an impressionist painting where no features stand out. Yet, with you, every detail is etched in his memory. 

He could pick you out of a crowded room, recognize the delicate curve of your neck, the fullness of your lips, and the way your nose scrunches when you smile.

He could draw the moles scattered on your body from memory alone, recognize your scent from miles away– your cotton shampoo and the specific laundry detergent you love to use and a hint of vanilla that never truly leaves you. 

He’d remember the curve of your lashes and the cascading of your hair, the airy giggles you leave across like a trail for him to follow everywhere, and your eyes– the way they gazed at him, softening slightly around the edges, shining brightly as if crafted from stardust, the way they softened even more when you looked at Sowon, voice growing slightly high pitched as you listened to his daughter’s rambles.

How did you manage to make his home yours without ever living in it?

“Dad?” Sowon calls out and he snaps his head up, locking eyes with his little girl. She’s sitting on a high stool, munching on her pizza, a pensive look on her face.

“Yes, sweetheart?” he asks, walking over to her side.

“Where is Ynnie?” she asks in a small voice and he freezes, mulling over his response. He settles for the truth.

“I don't know, baby.”

“Does she not want to play with me anymore?” Sowon whispers, and he doesn’t remember his daughter ever being this tentative about voicing a question. 

“No!” he's quick to reassure, cradling Sowon’s face between his much larger hands. “Of course not baby she loves you a lot.”

“Okay…” she nods, a small pout drawn on her lips still. Chris senses his heart physically crack in his chest.

“Do you wanna work in the studio with me?” he says in a joyful tone, and she instantly cheers up, the twinkle in her eyes found again. “Yes!” 

“Finish your food first, okay Wonnie?” 

“Okay!” 

In Chris's life, regrets have been scarce, and certainly not in the form of Sowon, his beacon of hope, as he named her. Having her was beholding a sun wherever he went. However, a fear lingers, a whisper in his heart, suggesting that letting you go might be his one true regret.

So when his daughter falls asleep, he knocks on your door once again. He's suddenly transported into that cold night, months ago, where he asked you for flour. Had he known you were behind it he would’ve knocked much sooner. 

“Hi,” you greet softly once you open the door. He takes a step forward, his wolf slippers matching with Sowon’s bump into your plain ones. You avert your gaze, finding anything but him to fixate on.

“You're avoiding me,” he says matter-of-factly, voice soft, resigning to you.

“I'm not,” you contradict, even as your eyes remain on the ground. He finds himself missing the color of your irises.

“Look at me, hm?” he implores, and you stay rooted in place. A soft sigh escapes him as he cradles your right cheek with his warm hand, his thumb gently sweeping across your cheekbone. “Yn, please, I want to look at you.”

Maybe it is the pleading tone of his voice or the way his thumb tenderly grazes your skin, but something about Chris makes your resolve unravel, threads of fear unknotting before your eyes. So, you finally look at him. An exhale of relief escapes him. 

And then you speak.

“You asked me if I was okay, and I didn't reply, back then,” you say, leaning your head further against his palm as tears well up in your waterline. “Do you still want to know my answer?”

“Of course, always.”

“I'm happy. With you, with sowon. I feel this warmth that I have never known before when I'm with you. It was almost easy to forget I've known you during winter,” you chuckle dryly, “but it is all an illusion, I lie to myself thinking I could stay, I… I can't, I-“

“What if I ask you to stay?” he brings your hand to his heart, where it beats erratically, pulse seeping through your skin.

He’s as scared as you are.

“Chris…”

“What if I told you, Yn, please stay with me,” he breathes out, guiding your hand to gently cup his cheek. “Would you? Would you stay?”

“I'm terrified,” you whisper, as he tilts his head, bestowing a tender kiss on your palm. 

“I know, so am I. But, you make me believe that even my bruised parts are worthy of love.”

He wins, before years of skeletons and piled up doubts, he wins. 

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I'm staying.”

“You are?”

“I am,” you giggle lightly and he staggers back, the sun pouring into his smile. 

“Um, wow, okay. Thank you for staying,” his voice sounds airy, happiness floating in his tone, and you find it contagious, imprinting into your own.

“Thank you for asking me to stay.”

“You made it less daunting,” he pats your head, smoothing your hair down. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

He giggles in response and you can't help but mirror the sound. “Why are you so nervous?”

“Whaaat? I'm not,” his tone grows high-pitched and you roll your eyes amusedly. 

“What happened to connected Chris?” 

“He is flustered by the girl he wrote about.”

Your cheeks tint red as he places a hand above your head, caging you in place. 

“I think the girl should get paid for being the muse.”

“Oh yeah?” he smirks, “I'll think about it.” His grin softens, as a content expression washes over his face. You know you must look the same. “Let's talk more tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay,” you grin, before placing a chaste kiss on his cheek. “Good night, Chris.”

“Good night, yn.”

You quietly watch as he walks to his apartment door, his hand settling on the door knob. He pauses, for a few seconds where the air around you stills, before swiveling around and walking over to you again. 

you win. 

“I forgot something,” he breathes out, before crashing his lips onto yours, furiously, as if needing to imprint his essence onto you, tainting your soul the way you have tainted him, permanently altering the composition of his being. His lips move on yours as if they've done this before, a dance they have rehearsed countless times, perhaps in all the dreams Chris visited you in. Yet, nothing compares to how it feels to have him touch you, lick your lower lip and drag his hand up your hips, press you against your apartment door, and nibble at your neck. 

Nothing could have prepared you for the passion he shows you, for how delicious it feels to be pressed against him, for the storm that your lips conjure, swirling in your heart in vibrant shades of red. Then, for the softness of his lips as they slow down their course, plump and rosy as they meet your own, tenderly, more gently, one kiss after the other. “My hope,” he whispers, as his lips find yours again, “my missing piece.”

He’s hot and cold, in yet seeking no out, finally yours.

bonus (one year later). 

“So I brought the eggs, milk, sugar,” Chris enumerates as he takes out the groceries, and you turn to look at Sowon to find her already gazing at you, a mischievous look on her face. 

“How much do you wanna bet he forgot flour?” you whisper and she giggles, burying her face in her hands to stifle her laugh.

“And… Wait, where is the flour?” he trails off and you burst out laughing, as you and Sowon high-five each other excitedly. 

“Daddy, you are really bad at groceries.”

“Am I?” he smiles sheepishly, fiddling with his earlobe in a manner that still makes your heart melt, renders your insides butterflies speaking of Chris’ name.

“Yes, it’s good Mom bought it,” she says naturally, looking down at her iPad. You and Chris freeze in your tracks, eyes instantly locking with one another, yours and his, glossy with emotion, a loving tide enveloping you both. 

It's her first time calling you mom. 

You swallow down the lump in your throat, crafted not by thorns but by petals, not by ache but with love, before placing your chin on the small of her shoulder, murmuring softly. "Mm, will you help me bake, baby?"

“Yes! I wanna be a baker when I grow up, just like you.”

“What happened to being a stylist?”

“I can't be both?” she frowns innocently. 

“You can be anything you want, princess.” you bop her nose and she giggles, pressing a sweet kiss to your cheek. 

In the grip of winter, Chris discovers a warmth that defies the season, casting off years of cold from the recesses of his bones. A soft smile graces his lips as he gazes at you, his hopes, his girls, the three of you clad in wolf slippers.

He’ll propose to you tomorrow.

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