#it was a very small egg and it was a normal question to ask

[ask-jeff-winger]

IT WAS.

[arachnidseyesmoved]

─⋅⋆⁺𖤐

BREAKFAST AND GOODBYES

Damian Wayne x Constantine! Reader

A/N: First Part. Next. Breakfast with the Wayne's! I'm building their relationship, let me cook. They're like 19-20, Fem reader. w.c: 1.4K.

Damian sits at his desk, listening to the sound of the shower and your soft humming coming from his bathroom.

The last few hours were very much not how he expected the night to go. He didn’t expect Constantine’s spawn herself to show up on his balcony bleeding out. He didn’t expect to give her over a dozen stitches, let her sleep on his bed, use his shower and wear his clothes. He certainly didn’t expect her to be invited to breakfast with almost his entire family present.

It’s fine. He’s Damian Wayne. He’s gone through worse.

The door to his bathroom creaks open and you step out in a gust of steam. Since your clothes are more blood and dirt than cloth, you’ve chosen to wear a pair of his sweatpants and a stupid Robin T-shirt Dick gave him that he’s never worn.

“I feel spoilt Dames, Is this how you treat all your patients or just the pretty ones?”

He scoffs and rolls his eyes, watching you flop down on his bed. You look much better than you did a few hours ago and he doesn’t know why that lifts such a weight from his shoulders.

“So how’s Goliath? Haven't seen that big guy in forever.”

The unexpected question doesn't faze him.

"He is fine. I set him free on Lazarus island.”

You sit up a little to look at him better.

“You let him go?”

Maybe you’re overstepping a little but it’s a fair question.

“Just because he’s not here doesn’t mean he’s gone. Real bonds don’t fray with time or distance, even with dragon-bat creatures.”

He makes the mistake of looking at you after he says that, seeing the look on your face as you gaze at him while absentmindedly touching your stitches. He should chastise you for that but he just clicks his tongue and tries to go back to reading his book. A futile effort.

You breathe in deeply before sitting up,

“Well, it would be rude to keep Alfred waiting. What’s for breakfast?”

─⋅⋆⁺.

Apparently everything.

You have to swallow the drool pooling in your mouth as you stare at the ridiculous amount of food set out on the massive dining room table. You can't even remember the last time you had a proper full breakfast.

The sound of utensils clinking on porcelain stalls slightly when you arrive. You do a headcount of all the bats present; Dick, Cass, Tim, Steph and Duke. Damian takes the seat next to Cass, leaving a seat for you right next to where Bruce sits at the end of the table, reading the newspaper with a mug of coffee. God, could he act more dad-like?

“Hey, Bruce. Long time, no see.”

“Y/n, Nice to have you join us today.”

There’s an implied question in there that you choose not to ignore.

“Right. Well, just thought I’d stop by, y’know.”

You can feel Damian's eyes roll at the piss poor answer you just gave but you’d like to see him choke up something better. Dick leans forward, elbows on the table and asks,

“And just how often do you do that?”

You ignore his imploring stare and give a longing look at the breakfast spread.

“Clearly not enough. May I?”

You ask Bruce, and he nods his head, motioning towards the food.

“Of course.”

You sit yourself down and waste absolutely no time stuffing your face with almost every type of food within reach; eggs, bacon, hash browns, french toast, sausages, pancakes, bagels, scones, some other sides you probably can’t pronounce the name of.

You’re so busy in your mission to full your stomach that you don’t notice the mental war game going on between Dick and Damian.

Damian stares him down, fork stabbing into his eggs, a warning. Dick looks just about ready to burst, a million questions building up in his head, waiting to spill out.

“Ok, I can’t do it! What exactly is going on here?”

You look at him blankly, chewing a mouthful of syrupy pancakes. You give a small, “hmm?”

“Why are we all acting like this is normal?”

He looks over to his other siblings, who offer no assistance besides knowing glances and stifled laughs. They’re all very content to watch him find the answers to their burning questions, offering him up like a sacrifice to the Demon’s son. Damian sighs woefully, aiming an accusing look at you,

“Why couldn’t you show up when he was in Bludhaven?”

Bold of him to think you wouldn’t delight in making this even harder for him.

“Well, he wasn’t here last time, Babe.”

“Last time?! Babe?!”

You almost choke on your laugh as Alfred sighs at the eldest son’s ill mannered volume. Damian groans,

“Don’t make it worse, he’s too stupid to know when he’s being fooled.”

Dick looks at him confused and when he notices the quirk in Bruce’s lips behind his coffee mug, he understands.

“You’re messing with me.”

He points an accusatory fork at you, to which you shrug. He sits back in his chair, eyeing the both of you.

“Oh, you’re perfect for each other.”

He swiftly dodges the fork Damian throws at his head. Alfred sighs again, stepping away to retrieve the utensil from the wall.

Slathering a generous amount of butter on your croissant, you turn to Bruce.

“So hows that demon ward on The Batcave holding up? I can replenish it before I leave.”

Bruce looks up from his newspaper to address you fully. You resist the urge to look away, it’s always a little nerve racking to have The Batman’s full attention on you.

“The candle is still burning, no demonic related incidents since you put it up. It should be fine for now. If there is a problem, I’m sure Damian will be happy to get ahold of you.”

You break eye contact then. Clearing your throat, you nod in confirmation, looking down at your suddenly very interesting plate, like you’re only now noticing how pretty the porcelain is.

You pretend not to see Bruce’s small smile, or Damian’s tight grip on his fork. You pretend not to feel both Dick and Tim’s smug grins or hear Steph and Duke's childish snickering from four chairs down.

Most of breakfast is uneventful. It’s nice to just sit and listen to the small talk, to see what a real family looks like. Nobody asks about your father or why you scratch at your waist every now and then.

Bruce does tentatively ask if you’ll be staying in Gotham for a while, and you answer him,

“No, after this I should head home. There are portals in every city if you know where to look, usually the cemeteries.”

Thankfully, nobody questions why you can’t just teleport back home, maybe because they don’t want to have to ask where exactly home is for you right now.

Alfred does offer you a chauffeur and you accept that graciously, not really wanting to walk around Gotham in Damian’s pajamas and your only surviving clothes; your old brown coat and converse.

After saying your goodbyes and thank yous to the family, Damian walks you to the front door, stepping out and closing it behind him. The way he looks when he turns his full attention to you, for some reason, reminds you of Bruce.

“Next time you visit, I would rather it be as a friend, not a patient.”

Your mind stutters when processing those words.

“Next time?”

He sighs a little, annoyance clear on his face as he looks out at the garden trying, and failing, to ignore the widening grin on your face as you lean forward.

“It almost sounds like you like having me around.”

It's not a question, it's an observation. He bristles.

“You came to me bleeding out. Took up my bed, my bathroom and my clothes.”

You lean in a little closer, taking the opportunity to make things worse.

“Well, when you sum it all up like that, Dick's theories really don’t sound so unrealistic.”

“Don’t flatter yourself, Constantine.”

You chuckle. At least he looks you in the eyes when he says it. Standing a little too close now, you watch his demeanor, knowing you’ll miss it once you’re gone.

You also hear the shuffling and whispers from behind the door. Figures moving from behind the pretty front windows.

“Your entire family is watching from the windows.” You whisper to him, to which he answers through gritted teeth.

“Yes, I know.”

You huff a laugh and, not one to overstay a welcome or prolong a goodbye, you start backing away.

“I’ll call you.”

Your mind stutters on that one too, how does he keep doing that? You raise a skeptical brow.

“You will?”

“Yes.”

No further explanation, as if none was needed, as if it was silly of you to even ask for one.

You nod at the very Damian-like answer and after another moment, one last good look at his face, you turn on your heels and start down the stairs, towards the fancy black car and chauffeur.

“See ya around!”

Damian watches you go and hopes to all hell you didn't hear the various disappointed groans from behind the door, especially not Dick's,

“Aw, What the hell! I thought for sure they were gonna kiss!”

Damian sighs and rubs his forehead, this migraine is going to last for months.

─⋅⋆⁺𖤐

[inbabylontheywept]

How is your life so interesting

Normally, I just kind of laugh this question off, but I've been asked enough times I'm gonna take an honest stab at it.

So, the first thing worth considering is whether the story itself is all that interesting, or whether I am just a good storyteller. My most popular story is about cutting a lot of worms and half, and crying, and then being comforted by my mom. That's not a terribly uncommon or hard to imagine event. A lot of my stories more about the telling than the substance.

There are also some stories that are weird, but they're weird in ways that I also find, like, relateably weird? It might just be that I knew a lot of athletes in college, but I don't think eating raw eggs is that weird. Eating 15 in one go is, but I was roommates with a guy that ate like, three for breakfast, three in his in-class protein shake, and another three at dinner. That guy was attending ASU on a gymnast scholarship, but also, he genuinely ate 5 dozen eggs a week. That seems much more normal than eating 15 in one day.

To say nothing of eating raw onion. Tons of people eat raw onions. It baffles the non-onion eaters, but it's a super common thing. Especially in Mexico.

Some of the stories happen because I am better at noticing story-worthy events than most people. I can't tell you how many times I've been in public, and seen someone do some weirdass thing, and then had to nudge my wife and to get her to watch it too.

If I had to point to the parts of my life that are truly, genuinely, bafflingly weird, they would be my dating stories, and. I dunno. My general thermonuclear dumbass event posts. And I can break down why those two are interesting pretty simply:

I was unbelievably bad at dating. The majority of the time, that just meant that there was a few minutes of stilted small talk and never get a call back. But the thing is, Mormon culture strongly encourages dating as like, a social-practice thing, and I was very motivated to get good at it, so I just kept trying and trying and I think I went on at least 200 first dates before meeting my wife. I genuinely believe that if anyone went on 200 first dates, they would get some pretty incredible bad date stories too. Especially if they had autism. I know I write well, and I can sound very charming here, but it took me a very, very long to get decent social skills. I am just a disturbingly persistent learner.

I am very convincing. This is helpful when I am interacting with other people, because it can do things like, convince them to let me into their secret facility, or convince them to not vote Republican again, or to save at least put the company match into their retirement accounts. But when I'm just debating something with myself, my convincingness works against me: I am very good at tricking myself into believing that bad ideas are, somehow, actually good. This is part of why I have so much sympathy for the right wing lunatics that I work with. Every time I meet a crazy person I go, ah, but for the grace of God, go I. Anyway, this does an unfortunate thing where my excellent verbal skills drive my poor decisions, which results in the very odd combination of welll written, articulate stories about someone being A Fucking Idiot. Like the condom bomber story. I think this is also why most of the lawyers that I meet are insane in their personal lives.

Anyway, those are my theories! I'm gonna tag @lizardho because we mostly had the same childhood, but she has a better grasp on what normal people look like than me, and perhaps she'll have her own theories on the weirdness of our lives.

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

TABLE SIDE ENTERTAINMENT.

bucky barnes x fem!reader

WORD COUNT. 1067 SUMMARY. your anniversary dinner takes a slight turn when bucky’s team begin to bicker despite best behaviour being asked of them. [fluff] NOTE. tower fic resurgence YEAAA!

⎯ ☆ ⎯

Things were different this year, though not by choice. Rather a small series of events that lead to an unforeseen change. Originally, your plan was to cook for your anniversary dinner like either of you normally would when the date came. You would each alternate between your apartments, taking turns hosting and cooking for the other. 

Two years ago, it was your apartment, the year after, Bucky’s, ultimately meaning this year was yours again. But since your last anniversary hosting, you have taken a roommate, the cost far too much for one person alone in New York. And quite similarly, Bucky was in the same boat as you, living with, not one, but five other roommates now.

And while it was your turn to cook, you were unable to host in your apartment: your roommate planning a get together with friends before even checking with you. Consequently, meaning things had to be rearranged. 

You sit at the dining table, Bucky at the head beside you as you both tentatively poke your forks into your candlelit dinner. It wasn’t quite what you pictured for your third anniversary. 

Despite Bucky having asked for some privacy from his team, they gave him literally anything but. All of them residing in the communal areas just so they could poke their noses into your date.

Off to the side, Yelena and Ava sit on the sofas, stuck in faux conversation as they clean their guns — pretending to occupy themselves, essentially, making themselves look busy. Beside the kitchen counter, John and Bob stand, their attention earnestly caught by a fancy, new, gimmicky kitchen appliance. And how could you forget Alexei, his loud, booming voice making it impossible to lose track of his whereabouts. 

“Where’s mine?” you follow the direction of Alexei’s question and notice him looking around the kitchen disapprovingly, hands theatrical as they lift the lids off the pots and pans.

You hear John and Bob bicker ahead of you, a growing miscommunication becoming all the more evident.

“Wheres the ice cream?” 

“Why would there be ice cream, Bobby?” Walker replies, brows scrunching together as he looks at Bob like he’s an idiot.

“You said you were making a shake,” Bob repeats. 

“Exactly.”

“You put ice cream in a milkshake, why is there no ice cream?”

“Protein shake, Bobby,” he clarifies, gesturing to an array of supplements beside the blender. “Just try it,” John offers.

“You make shakes?” Alexei interrupts, laughing like it was an attempt to mock them. “Crack egg in mouth. Be a man.”

“Ignore him,” John steps in front of the interruption, pushing him aside.

“What flavour is it?”

“It doesn’t matter what flavour it is, just try it.”

“I don’t think I’ll like it.”

“See,” Alexei continues. He recaptures everyone's attention and cracks an egg directly into his mouth. He swallows it hesitantly and lifts his arms, showing off his muscles. “Look how strong.”

You hide an amused smile behind your glass, finding humour in their squabbling. Though Bucky looks far from pleased, he’s clearly rather embarrassed from their failure to fulfil their promise of being good. Who needs dinner and a show when you have a group of enhanced individuals as your entertainment?

“That’s not how you do it, dad,” Yelena joins in, a subtle smirk on her face as she nudges Ava’s side. “You have to eat the shell too.”

“That’s not true,” Alexei exclaims and looks around the group for assurance. “You make joke, Lena. Very funny, HA HA!”

“It is,” Ava adds. 

John looks over to the girls and they nod at him, trying to get him to keep it going. Though he needs no convincing, he was still feeling wounded by the emasculation. And so reaches for the egg carton and pulls out another, smugly dropping it into Alexei’s open hand.

“Try it again,” he nods like it was an act of encouragement and steps aside. “Bucky does it. You want to be like the Winter Soldier, don’t you?”

“Two is a lot, no?” Alexei protests and looks over to Bucky, using him for guidance. 

Bucky doesn’t give enough of a response, though it still holds weight: a simple, short shake of the head as if it was a signal to let him know he was being used as the butt of another joke. He enjoys humour, but not at the sake of others. And sure, yes, Alexei probably deserves it, but it was date night and things were steering way beyond proportion. It needed reigning back in, massively.

“You make fool of me,” Alexei turns to look between the members of the group, an accusatory finger waving at them. “That’s hurtful.”

“Nice one, Buck,” Walker exclaims, irritation evident.

“It was mean,” Bob adds, coming to his defence.

John’s brows pinch together like he’s displeased. “It’s a joke, Bobby.”

“Woah,” Yelena interjects. “You don’t need to shout at him.”

The rest of the group begins to chip in with their own pieces and eventually it turns into indecipherable squabble — all of them trying to speak over the other with their own very important thing to say. You turn to look at Bucky, expecting him to be a puddle of embarrassment and aggravation, though he’s anything but. Instead he’s smiling, a rather sly grin forming as it all descends into chaos around him. 

With the group's attention occupied on being heard, Bucky slips his hand into yours and gestures to the stairs with a short nod of the head. He picks up the glasses from the table with his free hand while you grab the bottle of wine, with yours holding the neck tight as your footsteps begin to pick up — trying to keep up with his brisk, haste movement.

The noise from his team’s arguing slowly dwindles down the further distance you make and you each pause, reaching the door of his bedroom. 

“Did you know that would happen?” you ask, a smile forming that matched his cheeky one downstairs. 

He nods and that same grin resurfaces. He lets go of your hand and reaches for the handle, lingering in place for a moment before he turns to look at you. 

“Happy Anniversary, honey,” he says now that it’s just you two, words gentle and earnest.

You bring a hand to his cheek, thumb swiping over it softly as you lean in, pressing a kiss to his lips. “Happy three years, my love.”

⎯ ☆ ⎯

[robin-evry]

𝐓𝐖𝐒𝐓 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐇𝐀 𝐘𝐔𝐔 🐇🏮

The new Cauldron Master of the Xianzhou Luofu's Alchemy Commission is one perceptive and intelligent Vidyadhara healer. With a keen sense of smell, she diagnoses ailments and calms minds with aromatic therapy. Adept at navigating complex social relationships, she can remain impeccably composed even when turmoil rages within.

Becomes nrc healer and official therapist using their incense to ease down their patient students nerves and anxiety.

As well being an alchemist cauldron master in the xianzhou, lingsha!yuu make sure everything goes well in class if, professor crewel is not present.

Due to Lingsha!Yuu vidyadhara genetics enhance their senses, they are able to smell things most normal species are unable to do. They are able to smell emotion, changes in the environment, ingredients and more.

During alchemy class they will prevent any accident just by smelling the air and immediately figure something gone wrong by smell. They and professor crewel would practice enhanced alchemy.

During the book one at lunch room grim always find ways to piss someone else or some people always get angry by something significantly small over an egg in carbonara when the students were about to strike grim fuyuan lingsha!yuu incense beast phased thru the students causing the student to pass out.

Since technically vidyadhara in hsr are draconic species descendants of long the aeon of permanence, that technically in my logic makes lingsha!yuu a dragon but minus the horns and tail which only appear for higher ranking vidyadhara.

Many people are unaware of lingsha!yuu being a vidyadhara most students believed they were a fae. Only Lilia and malleus have already knew of lingsha!yuu being a vidyadhara. As well since being a vidyadhara is not rare.

When meeting malleus he ask wheneve or not lingsha!yuu was a lóng because he was curious due to the magical energy he's detecting, and when lingsha confirms it and malleus questions why do they not possess horns or tails.

Malleus and Lilia are fascinated by the xianzhou alliance, the place is roaming with long species as well the vidyadhara culture wishing to see the water scourge to see it.

Vil respect and would seek lingsha!yuu knowledge over herbs and alchemy requesting for their skill for making the right chemicals for skin care and make up. As well how he loves how they are unshaken towards any situation always facing it with calmness and meticulous mind.

They prevent kalim from being poisonous once after smelling a curse being put on his food, lingsha!yuu body and job has caused her body to grow immunity to deadly effects caused by poison and curse leaving unaffected when drinking potions. So during vil over lot he released a toxic mist and lingsha!yuu was unaffected.

Lingsha!yuu is not the most capable in hand to hand combat but why would you learn hand to hand combat when you end the fight before it could start by knocking the enemy.

Mostly her strategy was to imply debuff or slow down the enemy for other heavy hitters to take it down while she stays back and support them behind.

They can levitate and grim would ask them to take him to class. Fuyuan and him would get in arguments causing lingsha!yuu to separate them

Fuyuan is very loyal towards lingsha!yuu since they were the ones that created him and made them his creator and master, he would help lingsha!yuu with alchemy by grabbing ingredients. As well protecting lingsha!yuu.

Since fuyuan is made by incense causing him to be able to split themselves and be in multiple clones making him also a tool for lingsha!yuu for scouting ingredients and stop from any incidents. As well function for lingsha!yuu eyes.

Crowley would ask lingsha!yuu for alchemy requests in exchange for an increase in payments, Crowley would try to negotiate saying that staying at nrc is enough payment from him but lingsha!yuu interjects that the elixir he wants costs expensive ingredients to make causing him with no choice to increase payments.

Not to mention Azul trying to trick lingsha!yuu towards a contract but lingsha!yuu would always be able to escape his grasp.

As well an appointment with lingsha!yuu is very expensive and need to book a month ahead to secure a spot and it won't still be guaranteed you will get a spot, lingsha!yuu use aromatherapy to calm down the minds of the anxiety full students. Some students would want to buy incense due to how effective it is.

Vil would casually buy some of lingsha!yuu incense due to how useful it is towards the body and mental state. Vil admits to himself that lingsha!yuu may be better at alchemy than him.

Lingsha!yuu also like to back hand compliment anyone they will roast you and they didn't even think about it being a roast, That's just them being an honest person.

Due to Lingsha!yuu having scarlet marks in her hands and feet they tend to wear gloves to protect them from chemicals and unwanted attention from others.

Lingsha!Yuu has many admirers, they are very etheral and graceful, They carried themselves with strict rules and principle even tho they would clash ideals with others they would not get their emotions in the way.

As well having a trait to appear from mist of red or metarelize from the incense they always has on hand, many people describe when lingsha!yuu would pass them they would immediately feel more calmer and have less anxiety.

[yuurei20]

Can we get a summary of the April fools video this year 🙏💚

Hello hello! Thank you for this question! 🐉🦇

This year's April Fool's is so delightful!!

April Fool's for Twst is always so fun and this year was the same, with Malleus' VA Kato Kazuki being so cute in a sillier mode that he does not get to do when he is representing Malleus 🐉

His role is the emcee of a Twst Shopping channel, and Lilia's VA Midorikawa is there with him as "Stuffed Animal Head of Research" 🦇

They present the shopping channel's newest item: a baby dragon Malleus plushie! They both over-act very much about how amazing it is (it really is so cute) and 🐉 presents on its three amazing points:

The materials are very soft, you will want to always be touching it

The elegant, subdued coloring (in 🐉's description of the ♪harmony♪ between the elegance and the subdued colors, Yana comments on Twitter wondering how 🦇 and all of the recording staff held in their laughter)

The perfect size. 🦇 talks about how it is not too small but not too big and makes an English-language joke about its eyes: there are 5 different color threads used to create the eyes and he comments that they are expressing...「love (ai)?」 (there is then a subtitle showing 「愛(eye?)」, because the kanji for love 愛 is pronounced the same as eye) (he says the pun was unintended ww)

🦇 continues with how it is good quality, the great combination of black/purple/green, and how it makes you want to hug it but also since the wings are not too stiff it is also fun to play with.

🦇 hugs the plushie in his Lilia pose and says that it is the perfect size for him, and then says "strange...something feels...nostalgic...? Oh no, we are recording, but I feel like I'm going to cry! I must put it down!"

Then some talking about the price, and surprise: if you order it, you will also receive an egg pouch to put him in! They show how to put him in the pouch:

🐉 "The tail is long so you may worry about if how they fit together, but it is a perfect size!"

🦇 "May I hug it again inside the pouch? I understand the feeling that you wouldn't want to put him back inside the egg again, but..."

🦇 Hugs the pouch, commenting how a human hugging the pouch, well...

🐉 Because you need magic.

🦇 But somehow I still get dokidoki...

He does the Lilia-holding pose again and says again it feels nostalgic, "Oh no, I am going to cry! I must give it back!"

🦇 asks if it is limited in quantity and 🐉 says no, if you want multiple, the shopping channel will be happy to send one to your house once a month or even once a week, but if you want many at once, they will be happy to adapt.

Then the fake shopping channel ends and 🐉 and 🦇 go back to their normal selves (instead of their shopping channel personas), telling everyone that it actually wasn't all a joke and the plushie can be purchased for real until the 13th.

Very cute! ^^

Bonus: Yana's editor Kuma comment on Twitter:

"A legendary handsome-voice seiyuu and top musical actor--what are they even doing w When the voices are too good everything sounds twice as shady w That was amazing🥚"

[okaysonny]

Saw that your reqs are open, so I wanted to ask for a platonic one-shot, hope you don't mind! I have this headcanon where the reader is Daniel's younger twin who is mute and whose behavior is very much like Vasco's. Maybe that's why Daniel could understand Jay without a problem— because he grew up with us and knew exactly what we wanted before we learned how to write or even any form of sign language (and also why he seems very patient and a bit unfazed by his friend group's silliness, if I'm not mistaken-).

a/n: i like very much 😍 you can chalk their communication down to TWINK TELEPATHY but this is a better explanation

headcanons bc anon said in another ask they dm👍🏽

★ daniel knowing sign language because of his twin is saur cute...him picking up on little gestures when they were both small </3

★ in the beginning of lookism, he was lowkey a pos. (yelled at his mom + blamed her for his life) so with his mom working all the time, daniel has to take responsibility in minding them. thinks his sibling is a bit of a nuisance, especially because of that bubbly, enthusiastic energy that vasco has.

★ buuut, he doesn't realise how much his experiences - the sign language, the (although reluctant) patience and care - sets him apart. not everyone has those skills, even if he thinks it's normal.

★ there's this scene at the start where daniel yells at his mom for putting an egg in his ramen 😭 i see his twin giving a judgmental look after, and daniel feels guilty. still, he does have a what would they know? attitude.

★ when daniel was transferring schools, he felt bad about running away from his problems and leaving his mom by herself. so i also think he'll feel bad about leaving his sibling by themselves too. they'll be on their own when his mom is working.

★ he’d sit down and have this so...i won't be here with you anymore. you'll be fine, right? conversation. daniel ask a bunch of questions for his own reassurance, and they just nod at everything.

★ cue emotional moment where his twin suddenly hugs him...and daniel realises he'll actually miss them. he starts crying, overwhelmed by the thought of leaving everything behind.

★ as daniel goes through his character growth, his connection with jay makes more sense now. his understanding of jay’s nonverbal communication comes naturally because he grew up doing the same with his sibling! in a way, with jay's friendship, he wants to make up for those early moments when daniel was dismissive with them.

★ thanksgiving arc reunion (the first one) would be heart tugging! i can see his sibling's appearance changing slightly. maybe they sign something like i knew you’d be okay and he tears up all over again.

★ his twin is looking after their mom now. daniel is grateful and proud, it's something that he never did before he moved away.

★ i don't think daniel really reveals personal details to his friends? so if his sibling visits him while everyone's around...it would be really funny. if the twin is a guy, everyone's like why are there two of them? if it’s a girl, it’s…why is daniel in a wig?

★ because his sibling has vasco's traits, i can defo see vasco having these intense conversations with them through gestures and nods. vasco doesn’t question it at all — he just asks more questions, completely fascinated. everyone else is like ermmm wtf

★ JAY AND HIS TWIN INTERACTING WOULD BE SO CUTE!!! they’d be communicating with quiet excitement :') a heartwarming moment for both of them, realising they aren’t alone in their experiences.

[thatnonameuser]

The Red King holds a Bleeding Head

A Wonderland of Yanderes - Masterlist Chapter 1. Heartslaybul Part 5.

"But about your mom, could you tell me about her? She sounds like a really nice lady." Is what you asked.

Because you couldn't help but be a little curious. This is so alien to you that the idea of Deuce loving his mother in a completely wholesome way sounds so outlandish in a world of obsessive love is so hard to comprehend that you can't help but be interested.

Deuce's eyes light up like fireworks at your question. Sure, you might be endearing yourself to him more like this, but still, your pickings on information in this world are kind of slim, so you'll take whatever you can get.

Especially considering the bad ending of this misadventure ends with you sending the rest of your life as someone’s possession.

"Y-You want to hear about her?" Deuce's eyes light up at you, wanting to talk about his mother.

"If you want to." You repeat with the same enthusiasm.

"W-well, she's amazing. She works really hard and...." Deuce's speaks enthusiastically about his mom and all the fond childhood memories he has of her. All the way back to Sam's shop to get another carton of eggs, and all the way back to Main Street. It's shockingly normal, the stories he tells about her, and it has to be one of the sweetest of things you've witnessed thus far.

Until you remember the fact that means Deuce had a relatively normal mother-son relationship, meaning his yandere behavior was caused by something else or, even worse, is intertwined in his very being.

Back on your world, usually, people who became obsessed with someone to the point of doing horrible acts to keep someone to themselves had some sort of trauma or past relationship that pushed them into doing such horrible things.

But so far, everyone that you met was moderately normal. They acted in a way that was completely normal or had some quirks that were somewhat normal in your world. Like Cater's social media addiction, for example.

If they are normal, does that mean that they, no, does that mean that everyone here was just born this way? And they just accepted this behavior was normal? There has to be something more to it, right?

You're struck with a thought as Deuce is talking. He hasn't told you about his dad yet. That's not to say that it's wrong that he doesn't have a dad. It's just for a world that romanisticises a love life and marriage that never ends even when one side of it really, really wants to, it's odd that Deuce's mom is a single mother. Did her darling pass away or something?

Well, it's a question you'd like answered. Because maybe it will answer your other question. The death of a parent is deeply traumatic for a child and can maybe a way to explain the growing madness of the world you're in. So, there is no time like the present to ask.

"Uh, hey, Deuce," you say, and he’s quiet, ready to hear whatever you have to say. You swallow roughly, you hope that this won't go wrong,"... I know that this might be a difficult topic, but....how do you feel about your dad?"

The small smile on Deuce's face sours immediately. You can see anger in his eyes, as if the very reminder of his father's existence is capable of working him up into a fury. Ok, so that was a sore subject.

You quickly backtrack, "I'm sorry if that was a sore subject-"

He shakes his head, but the silent rage that you'd seen before is back as he explains, "I never met him, and he should be grateful I never did."

Shit, were you right in thinking that Deuce's dad was a darling. Had he run away, and Deuce hated him for breaking his mother's heart!?

"You must hate him a lot, huh?" You say uneasily. Given Deuce's delinquent days, he probably would have no qualms killing his father if he got the chance.

"More than anything. After how much he hurt my mom..." he trails off, voice deep with anger.

"How does that work? I thought darlings were the powerless ones, how did he hurt your mom?" Now Deuce is the confused one, he gives you a funny look.

"Prefect, I think you're confused."

"What? But I thought-"

"_____, my mom's a darling...."

Wait, that's possible!? "B-but I thought -" You had thought that darlings basically had no say in how their lives went once in captivity. So wait, if Deuce's mom is a darling, then his dad is...."Oh. Oh! So you hate your dad because of what he did to your mom?"

When Deuce nods, you can feel a rush of relief. So a life in captivity isn't the end all of all darlings and it is possible, and more importantly legal, to escape yanderes. Thank the Seven for that one, and apologies to Deuce's mom for the misunderstanding.

Now, all you have to do is figure the escaping part out before you're saddled with a child. If things get that bad, at least.

"So, wait, how does that work? I thought darlings had to stay with their yanderes?"

Deuce shakes his head, "We're from the Queendom of Roses, and they're pretty strict about that stuff so.....wait, is it not the same in your world?"

"What? No, why?" You say almost automatically. Your world has to be the farthest thing from this one.

"It's just -" He trails off before changing his words,"I've been wondering if your world is anything like ours... But do you not have darling laws in your world?"

"Well...." How can you put this in a way that can't be misunderstood? Your world doesn't believe in whatever psychotic idea this world bases their love lives on. So how can you say it that won't make you sound like a darling.

Maybe you could be honest. Or at least, sort of.

"Well, to be honest, my world doesn't really like the whole darling thing. They think it's abusive."

Deuce looks completely flabbergasted, as if you told him something incredulous. "But that’s not true!"

"But they think it is, besides in a way I kind of get it."

Now he looks confused. "What do you mean?"

"Deuce, would you do anything that your dad did to your mom to your future darling?"

"No." He says, completely serious. "I never would."

Well, it's time to crush that idea. "But what if you did it on accident? Maybe you might think that you're protecting them or loving them, but you’re actually hurting them unintentionally.....Do you really want to risk that?"

His serious look on his face falters, and you don't let up. "B-Back in my world, all the stuff you learn about Darlings is illegal. So we're not allowed to do anything to get them no matter how much we want to. It's because everyone thought our treatment of them was too harsh, so they made it illegal."

"But that's not fair," He argues, "what about-"

You aren't going to let him talk about how bad it is for the kidnappers and abusers, maybe a change in perspective will help your argument. "It's not really fair, but I get it. I wouldn't want to be stolen from my family and be forced to love someone else. Would you?"

The look he gives you is conflicted. He's, at the very least, considering what you said.

Is there a chance?

The slightest chance that he can be persuaded out of his yandere ways? Does he care about his future darling want to even risk making her unhappy?

"Prefect?"

"Yes, Deuce?"

"If I-" His eyes avoid yours as he rephrases, "If you were my darling, would you hate me for doing that to you? Taking you away from your friends and family?"

That was- that was one hell of a hypothetical.

Did he know about your status, or is he just using you as an example? Either way...."Would you hate me if I did that to you and your mom?" You dodge the question. You were always going to dodge that question. You were no darling, no matter how much this world says otherwise.

"But pre- _____," Deuce pushes you for a response, as if he needs one to live the rest of his life, "Would you hate me?"

"I would." You say point-blank. And it's the truth. He turns away from you, not wanting to meet your eyes. Still, you're prepared to rub salt into that wound. You give his shoulder a gentle squeeze. If he feels guilty, then good. Feel guilty. If he was considering it. Then now he probably won't. And he turns back to you "But you wouldn't do that to me, would you? After all, you're my friend Deuce."

He doesn't reply. Out of guilt, or contemplation. You don't care. And if it fixes him, then you need to be mean about it.

"C'mon, Ace is probably wondering where we are." He nods, still silent.

Maybe there's a chance that you can fix them, just maybe.....

....you weren't cut out to be a baker.

After another grueling hour of making and topping that gargantuan tart, your arms hurt so badly that they felt like falling off. A whole day of exercise is going to make you real sore tomorrow.

How Trey did this for his dorm without pay, you don't understand. Because you didn't even want to do this and you don't even get to eat this delicious looking tart. Thanks again, Ace...

"Finished!" The victory cheer that Ace and Grim let out is the polar opposite of Deuce's.

"Fin..ished." You can't tell if this depressed cheer is because of all the hard work you've had to do, or because of that conversation you had on the way here.

"Did something happen to him while you were shopping?"

"He's still in shock." Oh, probably because he had his whole world being being flipped. But since he clearly loves his mother, you were a little surprised that he was this upset from it. The truth hurts, but it's probably for the best that you let that stab wound scab with a extra helping of salt. "Better let him work through this one himself."

"For sixteen years, I was so sure...." And for sixteen years, you were lied to. If that's what he was talking about.

"Yeah, whatever. I'm pretty beat. Making tarts sure takes it outta you."

"Yes, and now we can just give this to Riddle, and this headache is over." And it'll probably won't, cause life is such a dick.

"Hey fam!" And you were right. Another headache comes into the kitchen. Yay! "You look wrecked. Are the tarts done?"

"Ooh, those look sooo cute. Lemme snap a quick pic for Magicam!"

"Wa-" You don't even have a chance to move out of the frame before the bright flash goes off. Again.

"What, NOW you decide to show up?"

"I just came to see how hard my little newbs were working." Or to reap the rewards of all your hard work. But out of everything this could be much worse.

"It's tough work if you're not used to it. But there's no better cure for the ails of fatigue than something sweet from the oven!"

"Ooh finally!" You cheer, clapping your hands. Out of everything you went through in one day, something good will finally come all this BS.

"Pretty funny how you managed to show right when it was ready to eat, Cater." Free food means you don't are about Cater's shenanigans. Unless he takes too much then you're going to be mad.

"Mmm...That smells so good!" For what feels like the first time today you actually agree with Grim.

You take your first bite, and you feel like you've been set on cloud nine. It's delicious. Light, creamy, sugary and nutty. If this world's priorities weren't ass backwards you would consider staying just to try all the desserts it had to offer. You can't help the little jumps you make as you take your second bite.

"Rich in flavour, yet not too sweet...It's like chestnuts are dancing across my tongue!"

"Is that...a good thing?"

"Of course, it is! What I've give to eat these forever!" You say, dreamily. No wonder Riddle threw Ace out. You would've if they ate one of your tarts and they tasted like this.

"Oh, Trey! You gotta do the thing." Wait, what was Cater talking about?

"What thing?" You ask mid-chew.

"Oh...that thing." Ok, now you're spooked. What thing?

"Uh, Wanna fill me in here?"

"What's everyone's favorite food?" Kay. Weird thing to say after a mystery thing enters the chat. Wait now Cater's got you doing it, damn it.

Ace, Deuce and Grim all list off their favorite foods, "What about you, _____?" You respond in turn, with your favorite food, still what does that have to do with-

" All right, you've got it.....Let's 'Paint the Roses'!" A spark of magic goes off, but otherwise does nothing.

Regardless, you hit with another wave of deja vu. A set of clubs, and specifically, the three of clubs had been painting the roses red in your dream. So why was your dream connecting with real life?

"Huh? What does that mean?"

"Take another bite of your tart and see." You, hesitantly, take a small bite of your tart. But you don't taste the chestnuts, or the cream, or the even the sugar.

You taste home. You taste the birthdays you had with this on the menu. The sad nights where this was the only thing that could cheer you up. That one restaurant that made it perfectly and the nights you tried and failed to recreate it in your kitchen. It's so perfect it brings tears to your eyes.

The taste reminds you of home. A home you can't go back to. That has your friends and family waiting for you. Oh seven, are they looking for you? Are they worried? Are they panicking because you're gone? Even if they saw you leave, who the hell would believe a magic carriage poofed a kid out of the known universe?!

"_____? You're crying..." You instinctively reach up and wipe it away, you really were crying.

"S-Sorry, it really is my favorite food and....and it tastes like home." You say with a sad smile. "H-How did you do that?"

"It's my signature spell. Technically, it's 'overwriting characteristics'. I can change taste, color, smell and whatever. It only lasts for a little while." Well that's both cool and dangerous. Cool, because you can change so many things for a short time. And dangerous, because that whatever is carrying a ton. Does that mean he can change the characteristics of a person? Or a completely erase something from reality for a while? Curiouser and curiouser. "But it is kinda like covering up the real thing hence, 'painting'."

"If I had magic like that, I could be eatin' canned tuna every meal of every day!"

"You would do that, wouldn't you, Grim?"

"That's way better than Riddle's stupid collar magic."

"You love tempting fate, don't you Grim. The last thing we need right now is him popping outta nowhere again." You scratch your fingers through his fur, with a chuckle.

Trey doesn't seem to agree with Grim's compliment, "Oh, Riddle's magic's in a whole other league. His signature spell is a weapon. Mine's just a childish prestidigitation."

Is he insecure about it, or something? His magic is pretty cool, and the only reason you're really afraid of it is because of the fact that changing characteristics is pretty broad.

"Hey, don't beat yourself up. Yours is cool in your own way. His is just a little.....dictator-y."

Trey smiles at you, "Thanks, _____." Well, isn't that great. Now all we have to do is-

"Speaking of Riddle-it's too late to give him these now. Let's call it a day and do it tomorrow." Spoke too soon. Great, just great. You think the compliment would have buttered him up a little. Well, at least you just have to barricade your door.

"Don't forget that tomorrow's the unbirthday party. You don't want to be late."

Yeah you're have to go. Mr. Stickler-for-the-Rules Rosehearts wants you to attend so that he can keep an eye on you. Also you should probably go to make sure Ace doesn't fuck it up and get permanently kicked out.

Still, you aren’t looking forward to seeing that red tyrant in all his glory. But when the price to pay is having Ace living in your dorm until you graduate, you have to do it regardless.

"Yu, can I crash with you again? It doesn’t look like I'll be allowed in my own dorm tonight."

"It's not really like I can say no..." You murmur, which is true because you're afraid if angering him, but Deuce and Grim actually come to your aid.

"It isn't right to keep mooching off of ______, Ace."

"Yeah, it ain't! If you wanna stay tonight, you gotta pay for the privilege! Ten cans of tuna!"

"What? Guess I'm sleeping outside, then." That's all it took? Really?

"Why don't you go and stay at Yu's dorm," Well, that was a given. Thanks Trey, you didn't expect him to open his big fat mouth, especially after all the kindness he spared you and you in turn, thought you at least buttered him up," -too, Deuce, so you can keep an eye on him?" What.

Great, now you have two people. Two unwanted guests in your dorm, fan-fucking-tastic. That's two people wondering your dorms halls, and sneaking around.

"What fun for you. Ooh, maybe I'll come too!" Aw fuck no. Two was already overcrowding, three was way too many. "What do you say, Yu?" How about, fuck no Cater. You already going have two loose cannons roaming in your dorm, you don't need third.

Trey says what you can't for you much too your relief. "No pass for you." Thank you Trey, even if he did unintentionally, or intentionally since you don't know his motivations, hang you out to dry, that kept on liability to your freedom off your back. "Sorry to dump them all on you, _____. At least it's just for tonight."

"It's no problem." It's very much a problem, but you can't do anything about it. "See you tomorrow."

Till tomorrow, just a little longer it seems.

Just a little longer.

You were exhausted as soon as you went back to Ramshackle.

Having two yanderes in your house was two way too many, but with the day's exhaustion staring you directly in to the face. Half a night of sleep mixed with too much exercise, too much work, too much spent adrenaline, and too many emotions running high is a exhausting combination. And when it finally set in, you could barely keep you eyes open long enough to walk back to Ramshackle. So you were scooped up by Deuce, after a three minute argument between Ace and Deuce, and carried the rest of the way.

The way back to Ramshackle is uneventful, save for Grim's 'demands' for what he wanted for dinner now that the extra tart from earlier was well buried in his belly.

After feeding Grim like the cat he wasn't, you barely had the energy and strength to keep your eyes home as you made dinner. Thank the seven that instant noodles exist here. You didn't really want to cook for your two unexpected guests, but you just want to go to bed. The sooner, the better.

You also tuned out whatever conversation Ace and Deuce were having as you all ate in the lounge, way too tired to actively listen to it. If they asked you anything, you couldn't really remember what they said, you'll worry about that tomorrow.

Speaking of tomorrow, Ace and Deuce hopefully wouldn't bother you tonight, everyone's tired because of today so all you can hope for is that you had a peaceful night tonight.

But that didn't happen, because it's happened again.

Or it's better to say that that strange dream is happening again.

You remember drifting off in the warmth of your scratchy sheets, exhausted from the days events. Only to wake up just like you did last night. With that floaty feeling, making you feel like you were flying in the air and swimming in mud at the same time.

Unnerved, you throw off the covers to escape that uncomfortable feeling. But when you reach out to feel the blankets, you don't feel the scratchy fabric against your palm. Or the lumps of the old springs in the mattress or the warmth of Grim's sleeping body.

You place a hand of his fur but reel back in confusion when you don’t feel the softness of fur or the warmth of the flames on his ears.

"This is....it's a dream, right?" You ask to no one in particular. You get only silence in reply.

But like last time, the mirror glows its pale white light. It calls to you, it beckons you.

So are your dreams trying to show you something, like last time. It had told you about the painting the roses, and you did meet the three of clovers today. So maybe it's trying to warn you of something, something destined to happen tomorrow.

Well, the only way you'll be able to find out is if you try the mirror.

"Do you want me to go through?" You ask, and surprisingly, the mirror ripples in response.

Hesitant, you place your palm on the front of the mirror and, much more gently this time, it pulls you through.

Like last time, you're blinded by a too bright white light, and then you're on soft grass.

The world looks like a more animated version of Heartslabyul now, and you're stuck in what has to be the center of the rose maze.

You turn around, and the mirror that transported you is half buried among the surrounding hedges, showing your bedroom on the other side, just like last time.

But unlike last time, there's no one here.

The greyscale hedge maze is full of half and fully red roses, but there is no one here. Strange.

There are no card soldiers, no Alice and no Queen of Hearts, just en empty wonderland-

You freeze as you feel something hit your foot. You look down and-

He's tiny. That's not even an insult. The little guy is so tiny that you could have stepped on him if you weren't paying attention. He's dressed in a red cloak and has a proportionally tiny crown. And he's desperate pulling on your pants leg to drag you back to otherside of your mirror.

"You're the King of Hearts..." You realise, and the tiny king lets go of you, eyes widening at your recognition.

And then he goes back to yanking you back with all his force. Which isn't much, and he falls over twice in his attempts.

"Hey, wait a second. Why are you pulling me back." Is he trying to make you leave, but the mirror wanted to you come back here for something so could you even leave?

The Red King mimes something rapidly in panic, but he doesn’t say a word. Is he mute?

"Calm down." You object, reaching out to do.....whatever was needed to soothe him. Sure, he's small enough to pick up in your hand, but it's obvious that he's concerned about you. Maybe this has to-

You're cut off mid thought as soon as you wrap your hand around him, another light burst out even more blinding than the first, and you feel the tiny body and fabric in your grasp grow so rapidly, it's almost likely it was magic.

Which is because this is a dream.

You wipe the blinding light lingering in your eyes away with a groan, just as a pair of hands, this time normal sized, grab you by your wrists and pull you in the direction of the mirror.

<You need to leave!> The person sounds so desperate as he pulls you, <If she finds you, she's going to cut off your head! I'm just trying to help you!> You lurch forward as you struggle to blink away the remnants of the flash in your eyes.

You're thrown forward against something. It's hard, cold, and smooth to the touch. You try to pull away from the hard surface, but as soon as you rear back two hands on your back, push you forward. And then your vision finally clears.

<B-But I just saw you- I-It was fine a minute ago.>

What you landed upon is the mirror leading back to your room. From here, you can see Grim dozing away in your bed. The mirror had hardened as if stopping you from leaving till you've accomplished what it sent you to do.

But from this angle, a glare of stray light also hits the cold glass. Because in that's reflection, you can see a face that's all to familiar and at the same time not at all.

The person pushing you is dressed in a royal grabe, colored red, black, and gold, and it's covered with heart motifs. From his shirt to the crimson red jacket on his shoulders, from his buttons to the choker on his neck, tiny red hearts cover his clothing. He's still wearing a red cloak, but now it hangs as a cape rather than serving as his whole outfit. He's a little on the shorter side, about Riddle’s height but slightly taller.

And he looks panicked. No, panicked is an understatement. He looks like he's going to have anxiety attack followed by a mental breakdown.

He's stepped back to think ,or rather grasp helplessly at his ginger hair in abject horror. He's close the actually pulling it out, too. Surprisingly, the crown on his head has managed to stay put despite his frenzied pulling.

He's spiraling into a dark abyss of frenzied muttering. <What am I going to do!? She's going to cut off her head, and then the guards' heads and then my head, and everyone's heads!> Is that what you sound like when you're spiraling? Because he looks and sounds like he's on his last nerve and that nerve is fraying very fast.

Wait.

"Hey.....hey!" You manage to intervene somewhere between his ramblings of heads, and he shuts up as soon as you raise your voice.

<Y-Y-Yes?> He looks at you in fear, as if expecting you to be angry. If your theory is right, then, you can't help but feel sorry for him.

"You are the King of Hearts, darling of the Queen of Hearts?"

You hate the way your stomach sinks when he nods.

[honey-minded-hivemind]

Fallen Snow AU, Chapter One, Fossilized Memories:

(Warning: This fic contains dark themes such as abuse, neglect, self-harm, mentioned/contemplated su*cide attempt, sedation, creepy fluff, and platonic yanderes. You have been warned...)

If you're being honest with yourself, you don't remember most of your childhood.

If you're being honest with yourself, you don't want to remember most of your childhood.

Everyone has their reasons to forget things or to ignore them. You have yours. Yet late at night, or early in the pre-dawn hours, it sometimes comes to haunt you.

It's not an easy ghost to be rid of. There's several you'd rather never think of again. But the nightmares... For thr last four years, those nightmares have kept you awake. They've made you scream, cry, shake, even stay awake just to avoid having to go through them again and again. It was too much. It was always too much.

They didn't happen once a month, or once a week, or every few days. It was every. Night. For months now. And you were at your rope's end.

So thats why you're here, in a small diner at the edge of town, trying to drown your sorrows and your sleepiness with coffee and eggs. Coffee burned your tongue and kept you awake; eggs fsatiated the hunger that always gnawed at your insides, that restless pain that clawed at your guts and bit at your ribs. It was just the way it was. You didn't ask to be born with the X gene, and you didn't ask to be a mutant.

Of course you're a mutant. Couldn't be something normal like a student or an assistant or a librarian or a baker. No. You just had to be the one in a thousand person who has some weird power and is universally hated by most humans.

But you'd made it work for you, these last four years. People in a small town don't trust strangers, no... but when that stranger takes any kind of pay, doesn't ask questions, and does some hunting for you and yours... well, they tend to not throw that person out, odd or young or strange as they may be. The town isn't all that bad. It's small, nestled in the snowy clearing between the endless woods and the long, thin road, but it kept its secrets and kept yours, too. The prey here was plentiful enough, the place was fairly quiet, and as far as anyone could tell, you were the only "odd one" around for miles. It was a win-win.

It wasn't hard spending most of your time alone out on errands. The woods offered quiet respite; the lake offered fish; the town offered some company; and your old cabin, nestled in deeper in the forest, offered you relief from the cold and the snow and when people were too much.

The cabin was nice enough. A few boarded windows, the rest draped over with blankets or rugs or drapes, a wooden floor that squeaked when you moved, an old fireplace that kept the place warm, and the old couch you'd found, covered in a nest of blankets and pillows, as close as you could get it to the heat of the fire. It wasn't much, but it was your home, your refuge, and it was all you had.

It was better than what was before it, and that was what mattered...

¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤

You don't know why you decided to get involved when some strange kid wandered into town.

The people here weren't being very open or friendly, even less so to them than they were at first to you. Them being some poor kid covered in a jacket, with blue hair and odd yellow eyes, and currently trying to find anywhere to go to wait out the snowstorm approaching.

"Please... I just need a place to stay for a few hours. I v'ont be here any longer than that. Just to vait out thr storm... please..."

Maybe it's the way he's curling in on himself. Maybe it's the sad, desperate tone in his voice. Maybe you're just tired of being out here yourself.

"He can stay with me... I'll keep him out of trouble," you mutter, pushing forward to glower at the crowd, then at the kid. You sigh, but offer a hand.

You're surprised when he takes it.

You don't show it.

"Come on, my cabin isn't too far. Any broken windows are covered, and I can get a fire started so we don't freeze to death," you grumble as you both trek through the snowy forest floor. The air is clean here, the cold stinging your lungs and the wind biting at your hands and face. The kid doesn't seem quite as bothered, but considering he's a little more covered than you, maybe he's just more cold natured.

When the cabin peeks through the flurry and trees, you drag him along, being careful not trip over the wooden steps or slipping on the icy boards. The moment the door opens, he's inside, shivering and shaking like a dog to get the snow off himself. You snort, but leave him be.

Setting some dry, dead wood in the fireplace, you strike a match, then toss it in. You barely smile at the scent of fresh woodsmoke and the soothing crackle of the flames. You turn sharply when you hear your guest clear his throat.

"Um... thank you... That vas... very kind of you," he says quietly, rubbing his shoulder. You nod, not saying a word. You feel a small teinge when he sits on the cold floor, and find yourself going over to the couch. You drag off a larger pillow and a few blankets, then toss them over him. He yelps, and you can't help but smirk a little.

"Vhat? Vhy'd you do that!"

"You're cold. You need to stay warm. Sit on the cushion, and drape the blankets around you. If you stay lioe that and stay close to the fire, you'll be toasty as a marshmallow in no time," you explain. You gesture at him to move closer to fire, then flop onto the couch. You don't wrap up in your nest, but you lay there, keeping an eye on the kid and the burning wood.

He doesn't look like he's dangerous. No claws, no fangs, nothing out of the ordinary. He's certainly not bigger than you. And as far as you can tell, he's not hostile or sinister. So as far as you're concerned, he's not a problem.

It becomes a problem when he starts talking to you.

"So... are you alone here? It's very quiet," he asks. You narrow your eyes, but answer.

"Eh... it's not a problem."

"But..." He looks upset for a moment, but quickly changes his expression. "Vell... vhat is it like around here? It seems very cold."

You let out a dry laugh at that. "Yep. Cold, freezing, unfriendly. It's normal. Not any worse than anywhere else I've seen."

That doesn't reassure him. If anything, he looks more worried, like you just told him someone hurt kittens around here or had run over their grandma.

"T-that is so?"

"Yeah... but eh, it's not bad. It just takes awhile to grow on ya," you say uncomfortably. You didn't want to upset him, and now you're worried if this kid is about to cry. "The fish here is great. Plenty of trails to walk, lots of cool animals to see, clean snow and fresh air too."

He nods, looking pensive. He stays silent for a few minutes, but goes back to asking questions after a few minutes.

"Hmmm... does my host have a name?"

"Yeah... it's Reader..." It's been ages since you've said your name, or referred to yourself by it. It feels odd, as though adding a small bit of personhood back to you.

"Reader... So, Reader, vhy are you alone out here?" He means it well, you think.

You sit still for a minute. You don't really talk about what happened... It's never done you any good, and it haunts you every night. Why should you think about it in the day? But... well, a little of the truth can't hurt. (It's not because you're lonely, or hurt, is it?)

"Bad crowd. They didn't like me or want me, so I left." No names said, no blame cast. No one needs to know, no one needs to see.

"Oh..." Is it just you, or does his eyes seem to glisten in the light? "I'm very sorry... you seem very nice..."

Nice? Has anyone ever told you you were nice? Or needed? Or helpful? Or even wanted-

No, no no. Do not go there. Now is not the time.

You think your eyes are glistening a little too now.

"Thanks..." you whisper into the warmed air, falling silent after.

The rest of the evening is quiet, as you both try to stay warm and curl in the blankets. You end up going through your rations to give him some jerky, and eventually drift off after hearing him recite some kind of prayer in a different language...

¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤

When you wake up in the early morning hours, he's gone.

The blankets he borrowed are folded neatly, and stacked on the pillow you gave him. There's no trace of his jacket either. When you exit the home to look for him, you find a few tracks... but then they disappear, as though he vanished into thin air. The scent of sulphur wrinkles your nose, but otherwise... no clue to where he went.

You try not to let it bother you, but in the end, you can't help but worry for the poor kid... maybe wherever he is, someone's watching out for him... maybe they love him, and are taking care of him now that he's not here...

With that, you decide to go to go on a walk... maybe the icy winds will keep you awake, and keeps your fears at bay...

¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤

Kurt was happy to be back home. Of course he was! His friends had missed him, so had his pack and his mother and sister and their family. But well... he was worried for his new friend... They weren't in a good place to stay. They were in a cold, lonely town. And they had no one with them, to care for them, to help them or keep them safe or warm...

It didn't sit right with him. It didn't sit right with him at all.

But he didn't even know where to go to find them again, or how to help them.

It took a week before he discovered something odd.

He'd never noticed it before, but there was an old picture hanging in the halls underneath the mansion, the one that led to some of the old sleeping quarters and safety rooms and training halls. Except... well, he knew the faces of his family, of his friends, Scott and Jean and Rogue, Wanda and Pietro and Evan, even Storm and Logan and Victor and Mr. Lehnsherr and the Professor... but there, nestled in the photos as well, was a face he also recognized... a younger version of thr same person he'd only met a week ago... Reader...

And now, he needed to ask the adults a question.

¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤

@hermesserpent-stuff @sugar-soda @vivid-bun @danniloversugar @thewickedweiner

[baxndaid]

bill cipher , stanford pines x reader

ohh my god PLEASEE request stuff for gravity falls i love it so much ty for making a comeback!! i don’t normally do nsfw stuff but for them… nsfw under cut 💔 another one here

sfw

- gonna be honest, ford is a little control freak especially after he meets bill

- he likes things going according to his plans and calculations and if they don’t, then there’s clearly something wrong

- bill WOULD constantly inflate his ego so when ford had hired you to be his little lab assistant, it was a little suffocating

- despite this, he was super happy to learn that you were into the same things he was; anomalies

- ford was uptight and serious with you most of the time whereas bill was nonchalant and just a massive tease

- the demon didn’t really mind you, you were pretty open for anything and he, like ford, liked how you were a massive pushover

- on the other hand, bill disliked fiddleford because he asked too many questions, he was too wary (though he had the right to be)

- ANYWAYS, would ford and bill peer pressure you into letting yourself be possessed? yea..

- it’s not like ford was really in the right mindset to be making these huge decisions like the guy was crazy obsessed with bill

- he didn’t see the harm in it, bill was his muse after all and it was very valuable for his research! just do it!

- so you would, you still have a few scars on your thighs from bill’s obsession with pointy sharp things

- sometimes bill would prank you while being in ford’s body - not like you could tell the difference

- being all flirty while mimicking his voice and then yelling “JUST KIDDING!” before laughing obscenely in your face

- wow he loved humiliating you, it was almost as good as humiliating ford

- ALMOST

- they kept their plans pretty secret from you, only commanding asking you to get materials for the portal

- it’s kinda like that one meme that i see floating around;

you: what’s going on with the portal

bill/ford: don’t worry about it kitten

you: okay ❤️

you: yay ❤️

- they weren’t worried about you leaking anything, bill just liked keeping information from you to poke fun

- you were just in-flight entertainment, a plaything to bill, ford kept you as a means to keep himself grounded

nsfw

- you never really got intimate with ford, not like you didn’t want to but he was always so busy and it would technically be taboo considering he was your boss

- but he had to let off steam somehow, and his muse was here to help! consider the town SAVED ❤️

- with bill possessing him, “ford” would stuff his fingers down your throat and watch you gag

- i can’t even lie man if you vomited or something he’d probably get off to that more he’s a freak like that

- ford would gawk in horror as he watched himself bend you over onto his messy desk like a rag doll and rip the clothes off of your body

- bill doesn’t necessarily gain any sexual gratification from this, but he certainly “gets off” to it in some other twisted way

- he likes the control he has, your whining and ford’s gasps only egg him on further

- he likes to hold you down by your throat and make small cuts on your inner thighs while he sloppily eats you out, probably with anything that was lying around nearest to you, a pocket knife or even a unicorn horn

- SCRATCHES ohh my god this guy scratches so much somebody cut his nails

- fucking imbeds his damn fingers into your waist as he thrusts into you, all the while laughing like a madman

- the noise of squelching and muffled screams spilled from ford’s office, be glad your in the middle of the forest

- he 100% licks your tears away btw

- ford likes to act shocked or squeamish whenever bill does this to you but bill knows he loves it, and deep down inside he knows it too

- maybe not the “harming you” bit, but he loves everything else

- he’ll probably scold bill for being so rough with you but bill would probably lie and say “It was necessary! This is a whole NEW experience to me! You can’t deny me of that can you Sixer?”

- and then ford folds like a loser

- he’ll try and make it up to you by tending to your wounds and giving you a way lighter work load

- ford hopes that one day he’ll have enough confidence to be able to make love to you without his twisted muse butting in

- he kinda loves it bye

[morganski-19]

The One Where Eddie Gets Another Job

Steve and Robin walk into the coffee house after work. Nancy, Jonathan, and Argyle already sitting in their spot. Robin sits next to Nancy on the couch while Steve flops into the armchair.

“How was the first day of school,” Nancy asks Steve.

Steve groans. “I have three Gabriels in my class and all of them want to be called Gabe. And two of them have a last name that starts with H. Then the fire alarm went off because Beverly decided that popcorn was the perfect lunchtime snack. Three moms tried to hit on me when I was doing car line, and I think one of the kids was sick. So that’s about to be spread around my classroom.”

“That’s,” she starts, trying to find something positive to say. “I have nothing, that sounds like shit.”

“I could never be a teacher,” Robin sighs into the couch. “I didn’t like kids that much to begin with. And after the things you tell me, never.”

“I don’t know,” Argyle pipes in. “It could be fun. And very rewarding.”

“I could totally see you being a kindergarten teacher,” Steve suggests.

The group does a vague nod in agreement.

“For anyone wondering how my day was,” Robin perks up. “I had a very nice conversation with this Italian man. He’s opening up a small bakery with his wife and wanted someone to go over the contracts with him. He’s bringing me some pastries as a thank you when they get up and running.”

The conversation about work continues for a bit, each of them sharing how their day was and destressing.

“Where’s Eddie,” Steve eventually asks. He’s normally here by this point.

Nancy starts laughing. “Oh just wait.”

“What,” Jonathan looks up from his laptop. “Did we miss something?”

“Like I said,” Nancy continues to laugh over her coffee. “Just you wait.”

Like speaking of him suddenly made him appear, Eddie walks out of the backroom of the coffee house. With an apron tied around his waist and a pencil behind his ear. He heads over to an empty table with a wet rag, wiping it down.

“Oh my god,” Robin whispers with surprise.

“Is that Eddie, working?” Argyle questions. “Here?”

Nancy nods, her laughter getting louder. “Yes.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen Eddie working,” Robin comments. “It’s like watching an animal out in the wild.”

“I can hear you, you know,” Eddie groans. Shoving the rag in his apron pocket and walking over.

Robin smiles. “I meant you to.”

“How long have you been working here?” Steve asks.

Eddie shrugs. “A few days now.”

“I thought you were working on being a tattoo artist,” Jonathan says. Taking a break from editing photos on his laptop to invest in this conversation.

“That I am. But I needed to shut down my Etsy page for art commissions, because people were being a bunch of dicks, so now I’m down one job. So I got another. Because rent is fucking expensive.”

Nancy makes a gesture with her hand. “And that’s with it rent controlled.”

Eddie makes a gesture toward her. “Also, I blew all of my savings moving out here, so I am trying to build those back up.”

“Aw, look at you being financially responsible,” Robin teases. Poking Eddie’s arm.

“You’re growing up,” Nancy eggs on. Feigning wiping away tears.

Eddie rolls his eyes. “You guys are the worst. I knew it was a bad idea getting a job here.”

“I don’t think I ever envisioned you being a barista,” Argyle notes. “Bartender, yes. Barista, no.”

“Well, I work the late shift too. So I am both of those things.”

“Oo,” Robin turns around on the couch. Standing on her knees to see him better. “Do you get a discount? Can we abuse it?”

Eddie shakes off her hand. “Yes, I get a discount, no you cannot abuse it. I sort of need this job, so I’d rather not get fired. It says strictly in the rules that I cannot use it for friends.”

Robin falls back down, defeated. “Boo, you’re no fun.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Eddie walks away behind the counter. Cleaning off the counter and starting to make someone’s order.

“I’m going to go get something to drink,” Steve says, standing up. “You want anything, Rob?”

“Just a green tea. Not feeling coffee right now.”

Steve nods while going over to the counter. Sitting down at one of the stools. “So, you work here now.”

“I thought that was already established.” Eddie hands off the drink he was making to the girl further down. Coming to stand in front of Steve.

“Is that why you couldn’t come over last night? You could have said that.”

Eddie shrugs. “I didn’t want you to know, quite yet. Thought you wouldn’t really like how much I bounce around jobs.”

“You’re not though. You have a job, you just needed a second one. No shame in that.” Steve leans further across the bar. “It also helps that I find bartenders to be really hot.”

“Steven,” Eddie gasps. “I am at work.”

Steve smirks. “I know.”

Eddie shakes his head. “Did you want anything, or are you just here to flirt with me?”

“Only if flirting with you gets me a discount. Otherwise, I’ll just take my business elsewhere.”

“Is that really all I am to you?” Eddie starts making Steve’s usual drink order. Waiting for the espresso to brew.

“And Rob wanted a green tea.”

Eddie nods, pouring some hot water into a glass and adding a tea bag. “How was work?”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Don’t even get me started. The first day is always hard.”

“Oh, I bet.” Eddie steams the milk, adding it to the top of the espresso and drizzling it with caramel.

“And I just can’t wait until I get to hear all of the single, and not so single, PTA moms throwing their cheap pick-up lines at me.” Steve says that with a leading tone. Hoping that Eddie takes that in the direction he wants it to.

Eddie slides the drinks across the bar. “That something they do,” he says, with a lilt of jealousy.

“Every year. Without fail.”

“Any way I can help with that?”

“Come over later and find out.” Steve gives him a flirtatious smile. “What do I owe you?”

Eddie waves his hand. “It’s on the house.”

“I was joking before. Seriously, what so I owe you.”

“And now I’m being serious. I get a free drink a day that I can give out to a friend, so consider that covering Rob’s, and then I am personally paying for yours.”

“What was it about needing to save up money?”

“That doesn’t apply to you, sweetheart.” Eddie leans over the bar a little bit, palms pressed into the edge of the counter.

“Steve,” Robin yells from the couch. “I thought you were getting us drinks.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “I’m paying next time, no arguments.”

“Whatever you say so.”

He walks back over to the group and hands Robin her tea.

Tag list (let me know if you want to be added or taken off) @slowandsteddie, @annieofhearts, @cacdyke, @ubpd, @captain--low,

@thespaceantwhowrites, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @anne-bennett-cosplayer, @lunaticparisianlady,

@apomaro-mellow, @dolphincliffs, @dragonmama76, @maggiebug417, @stevesbipanic,

@fearieshadow, @eightpackdiaz, @au79burger @bookworm0690 , @practicallybegging,

@potato-of-the-lord, @autumncrocusandladybug, @estrellami-1, @ilovecupcakesandtea, @gregre369

@my2amgaythoughts, @ellietheasexylibrarian, @emmabubbles, @eriquin, @grtwdsmwhr

@croatoan-like-its-hot, @dreamercec, @dreamy-jeans137

[icallhimjoey]

Define Close

♥ ♥  Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader

Summary: What good are flatmates even, if they don't comfort you when you need it most? Or when you need it a normal amount? Or, you know, when you don't really need it, but just really want it?

CW / disclaimer: rpf, fem!reader, hurt/comfort i guess? idk we're sad a lot and joe cheers us up a lot

Author’s note: this sort of came about after taking small little bits from several requests that i combined and then shaped into what i wanted for myself, and for a minute, i thought 'what if i don't make this one extremely self-indulgent for once' but then... why the fuck wouldn't i? so...

Wordcount: 2.7K

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

One of those days.

You weren’t going to wait until you got home to ask Joe what pizza toppings he wanted. Not today. So you texted,

“peperoni or chicken?”

And it took just a few seconds for Joe to open Whatsapp and to reply.

“those my only two options?”

You didn’t have the mental capacity to even think of any other pizza toppings, let alone get into some banter over text with your flatmate.

“joe”

There were a million ways for Joe to have read that, to have interpreted that. Yet, he got the tone of it just right.

“don’t worry, i’ll take care of it”

No playing. Just quick solutions to problems of which Joe didn’t even really know what they were yet. Then another text from him followed, asking you the question you’d just sent him.

“peperoni or chicken?”

“chicken”

You remembered exactly when this pizza tradition started. Could pinpoint the exact date, time, and place.

“no i was wrong.” “peperoni”

The first time you and Joe shared a pizza as new flatmates, was when you’d gotten home one morning, still very obviously in the outfit you’d left in the night before. Joe had been cooking up some breakfast in the kitchen and had his jokes ready, already grinning to himself when he hadn’t even seen you yet.

“Well, well, well,” he called over his shoulder as you took a moment by the front door to just... breathe. You would’ve tried gathering yourself, but there wasn’t much to gather.

“I know you said the plan was to go out and celebrate Friday, but you didn’t mention anything about Saturday morning,” you could hear the joy in Joe’s voice, all chipper and lively. He’d very clearly had a great night’s sleep, unlike you.

Joe heard footsteps, and when they stopped in the doorway, he turned his head to look. Spatula still in hand, eggs just about ready in the pan in front of him.

“Look at what the cat’s drag–...” the comment died on his tongue. “Jesus, are you all right?”

Joe had expected a tired, sloppy girl to have walked in. One with messy hair, eye make-up all smudged and sort of drunk a little, still.

He’d been right.

That was exactly what he was looking at, which should objectively be funny. Hence the smile that still lingered on his face as his brow slowly furrowed in confusion.

“You look like the inside of a shoe,”

Joe tried his hand at humour, but it fell completely flat.

What he hadn’t anticipated, was for his flatmate to look quite so sad in reaction to his comments. So very drained of life. You’d obviously been crying and looked like you hadn’t slept in weeks.

For a moment you just stood in that doorway, looked a little dazed because, um, why were you going into your shared living space again?

You needed your bed.

Without answering Joe, and without even really acknowledging him at all, you took a shuddering breath and slowly turned back around, only to ignore Joe’s question and disappear into the hallway.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Joe quickly turned the hob off and rounded the island to go after you. He was too late though, stepping into the hallway just as your bedroom door closed behind you. The immediate guilt that followed his poking-fun carried him over to stand in front of it, just enough self-restraint left to not just open your door and walk in right after you.

You didn’t seem like you needed to be pissed off any more than you already were.

From just outside of your bedroom door, you heard a very faint knock, followed by Joe’s voice, asking if you were all right once more.

“Did– did something happen? What’s going on?”

All you managed to do was sigh, just loud enough for Joe to catch it.

“What happened?”

But you didn’t want to get into it.

“Do you– hey,” Joe called your name, waited for a second, in case you wanted to answer him, but then when you didn’t, he followed it up with, “Do you want some breakfast?”

And honestly, breakfast sounded nice. But so did burying yourself into your duvet for a few days, where no one would try to look you in the eye, and where no one would try to make you talk. Were you going to listen to your rumbling stomach that wanted some food, or to the rest of your body that just wanted to be horizontal?

“Some scrambled eggs? Piece of toast?” 

You milled it over in your mind.

“Or, I could make you something else? You want some yoghurt? With some berries in?”

Joe tried. Was actively trying. But it didn’t seem to work, just didn’t seem to do the trick. It stayed silent on your side of the door.

“Some pizza?”

And it was meant as a careful joke. A hopeful small little thing to at least lift the mood, if nothing else. If you were even still listening to him at all, that was.

He was about to tell you that he’d be in the kitchen if you needed anything, that you could just let him know. No worries if not. But then he heard rustling. Stumbling footsteps, followed by your bedroom door slowly opening.

“Hey,” Joe cocked his head to the side at the sight of you, his eyes all soft, forehead crinkled with worry. “I’m sorry.”

You looked right past him.

“What... what kind of pizza?”

You focused on the important things instead. Didn’t really care to acknowledge Joe’s apology.

“Well,” Joe tried to hide his smile as he looked down at his feet before stepping aside and holding an arm out, inviting you to walk ahead of him, making your way back into the living area. “I think there’s a few to choose from in the freezer.”

You’d shared a pizza that morning, you sat at one of the stools of the kitchen island, and Joe stood on the side. He hadn’t asked you any questions then, but instead had just tried his hand at light conversation until suddenly, halfway through a slice, you’d started sobbing.

And it wasn’t like you and Joe had never hugged before.

But you’d never been hugged by him like that before.

Where Joe instantly dropped his food and stepped closer to fold arms around you. Where Joe got an arm around your head to press your face into his chest whilst the other curled down around your shoulders that pressed your chest into his stomach. Where he decided he wasn’t going to be the one to pull back first, and so you’d just embraced like that for over half an hour.

He hadn’t asked you any questions.

Not when you cried.

Not when you’d stuttered through breaths as you tried to recollect yourself after.

Not when you eventually pulled back and reached for another bite of now-cold pizza.

Not when you then silently frowned at the hardened cheese and softly sighed to yourself.

Not when you did eventually retreat back into your room but came out just a minute later and asked if Joe had any plans that day.

Even if he did have plans, Joe knew that he’d cancel them all for you.

“Want to rot on the sofa with me? Watch films all day?”

And you hadn’t meant to fall asleep all sagged into his side then, but you had. And Joe had played with the ends of your hair until the warmth and comfort had pulled him into a nap as well.

You’d never talked about what had happened then, why you had been so sad, because you didn’t need to. It was nice that Joe hadn’t asked for you to explain why you’d cried, and instead had just comforted you until you managed to smile for him again.

Joe thought that maybe, if you wanted to tell him, one day you would. But he didn’t need to know why his flatmate was sad when she was. He was happy just being there to help and fix it.

And now, here you were. Two flatmates who shared a tradition of having pizza and watching a film when you’d had a bad day.

And today had just been... long. Hard. Frustrating. You didn’t want to get into all the things that had nearly pushed you over the edge, and you were glad that you didn’t need to.

Joe didn’t ask questions. Never did.

Just went to get you the peperoni pizza you’d asked for.

Would cuddle you on the sofa all night if that was what you wanted.

It was what he wanted, anyway.

He was well aware that none of that was normal though.

You were flatmates.

If Joe referred to you in conversation with a friend, with a family member, or even with a stranger, you were his flatmate. The girl that he shared the living area of his flat with. The pantry, the fridge and the freezer. The coat closet by the door. A letterbox downstairs by the entrance.

Flatmates.

But if someone were to ask you if you and your flatmate were friends too, you’d tell them yes of course. You shared dinner more often than not. If you had friends ‘round, Joe would hang out too. And vice versa.

Normal.

Just normal friendly flatmates that also knew each other’s parents by their first names, but you know, those things sort of just came with sharing a living space together, right?

And no one ever really thought there was more to you and Joe, anyway.

Why would they even assume?

You dated other people. Went on regular dates with different men. Other guys. Would even sometimes sit and watch a film with someone, and Joe would join you for a little while. Have casual conversation with whoever you’d invited over.

Normal.

What wasn’t so normal was that the second it would just be you and Joe, you wouldn’t hesitate to touch if you wanted to touch. Wouldn’t hesitate to find him, wherever he’d be, and sling your arms around his stomach from behind, just to hold him for a minute. Would wait to get comfortable on the sofa until Joe would join you there and you’d wait for his arm to find its way around you before you’d settle in.

You never talked about it.

It was just what it was like. You were close. The affection was just a natural thing between the two of you. It didn’t need any words. Any explaining.

But Joe knew you both understood that this could be interpreted very differently through other people’s eyes.

It’s why you kept referring to each other as flatmates, and why you weren’t like that in front of other people.

Which was fine.

You lived together.

There was plenty of time without other people there.

When you walked into your flat that evening, the promise of a shared peperoni pizza combined with the contrasting warmth that immediately made you feel uncomfortably hot in your coat, was nearly enough to bring you to tears.

“Joe?”

“Hey, bad news,”

Oh no.

Joe appeared at the other end of the hallway.

“They didn’t have any Sprite left, so I got you a Fanta.”

You let your shoulders drop and let your head fall to the side in relief. That was hardly bad news. You didn’t love Fanta, but the bad news revealed Joe had gone out to get a pizza instead of throwing a frozen one into the oven.

“Fanta’s fine.” You smiled. Joe easily copied it.

“Good, okay. Now,” Joe continued, suddenly his face all serious again as you took your coat off and toed your shoes off. “I know that last time, I got to pick a film, so technically it is your turn... but, I’ve already chosen something to watch, and I did go out to get us the largest peperoni pizza London has to offer, so...”

You stilled and gave an exaggerated sigh, all mock frustration, because you honestly didn’t give a shit. If anything, it was nice that Joe had made the choice for you, seeing as you didn’t really have the mental capacity for any decisions right now. If it had been left up to you, you’d hav been scrolling through Netflix for at least half an hour until settling just to watch some celebrity panel shows on Channel 4.

“No sprite and I don’t get to choose the film?”

“I’m sorry,” Joe was trying stupidly hard to hide a smile.

You blinked at him a second.

“You’re not sorry.”

“No I’m not. You made me go out and it’s fucking freezing outside today.”

You made your way over to your bedroom to get changed, and just before disappearing, you said, “Cool way of letting me know you’ve not left the flat all day.”

Like Joe’s hair hadn’t told you as much already.

You wished your job would let you work from home too. Although, with Joe spending weird stretches of time just sitting around and reading, you didn’t think you’d get much work done. Would probably be a bit weird if you logged onto a zoom meeting from your spot on the sofa, half of Joe in frame.

“I did leave the flat! I just said!” Joe argued, leaving you to get into a more comfortable outfit.

You grinned to yourself.

Joe was an idiot.

In an oversized sweatshirt and a pair of joggers, you joined Joe in the living room where you found a large pizza box on the coffee table, two cans of Sprite next to it.

Sprite.

“Surprise.”

Joe had lied.

Then you looked at the TV screen, paused at the title of the film Joe’d chosen and, fuck all the way off, did he want you to cry?

“I know it’s not your genre...”

It was. It absolutely was. It wasn’t Joe’s genre, though. “But I promise you’ll like it.”

You didn’t know if you wanted to hook an elbow to his jaw or squeeze your nails into his cheeks, but you needed to do something to get this surge of emotion out.

You opted for swearing at him instead of physical violence.

“I fucking hate you so much right now,”

“Yea?” Joe sat down, pressing play on the remote and reaching for the throw blanket. “Come hate me over here.”

And so you did.

Sat down next to Joe, thigh to thigh, and let him sort the blanket so it covered the both of you before leaning over to grab the pizza box.

The heat coming from the pizza quickly found your legs through the blanket and through your joggers. It was a stark comparison to how cold your fingers still felt from your trek home.

You rubbed them together as Joe opened the pizza box and, shit, that looked good.

“You cold?”

“Just my fingers,” you replied, already putting both hands to use, ripping the pieces of crust that hadn’t been cut properly and lifting a slice out of the box.

Joe did the same, and then when he saw one of your hands lower down, he was quick to grab it, encasing your cold fingers into his large palm.

The act of being upset with him for being nice faltered, and you smiled at Joe as he smugly grinned whilst he chewed.

See, had someone else been there with you, you’d have gotten comments. If not jokes, at least you knew you would’ve gotten some judging looks. Some questions later, about what was going on between the two of you?

Nothing was going on between the two of you.

Just warm cuddles and comforting touches, which was fine when it was just you and Joe.

So what if Joe held your hand whilst you ate pizza and watched a romantic comedy together?

So what if a piece of peperoni was about to slide and fall to your chest, but Joe saw and got it just in time, and you thought he was going to pop it into his own mouth, but then instead he held it up in front of you and waited till you ate it from his fingers?

So what if, after finishing the pizza, Joe planted his feet on the coffee table and pulled you into his side a little? Grabbed your arm to lay over his stomach? Ended up with both arms slung around, his own fingers locking on your back to keep you in place whilst you watched actors older than the both of you act as if they were in their early twenties still?

Life was just more comfortable when it was filled with good snuggles, you and Joe both agreed.

But you never talked about it.

You were just close.

No questions asked.

Flatmates. Friends. Just, close.

---

The Taglisted

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taglist currently full, sorry

[coffeekittycatt]

Birthday Wish - Pt 2 ⋆˙⟡♡

Link to Pt 1:

Part 1 Scenario: You wished Rafayel was a real person on your birthday. That very night, he ends up at your door. You can’t believe it, but he embraces you in a sweet hug and you both share a romantic and steamy kiss. Now he wants to see your bedroom.

Notes: - NSFW, MDNI, Someone asked me for a part 2 so hope you all enjoy. This was my first real attempt at writing anything spicy besides a kiss so be patient with me 🙂‍↕️ wc: 2,071

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝ ── ⟢ ・⸝⸝ ── ⟢ ・⸝⸝ ── ⟢ ・⸝⸝ ── ⟢ ・⸝⸝ ─

“Show me your bedroom, my love.” He whispers to me. His intoxicating scent of white musk hits me, and his buttery voice persuades me right away. I try calming the adrenaline from our sudden makeout session with a deep breath as I guide Rafayel to my room.

My bedroom isn’t exactly “romantic hook up” ready. I have a small twin bed, cozy, but made for one. The corner of my room is stashed with pushies, lots of Kirby’s and Pokemon. “Here it is..,” I say to him as we take a stop. He must sense my nerves, as he leans down in front of me slightly to meet my face, and he tells me, “It’s perfect, small and full of adorableness, just like you.” I giggle at his comforting gesture. “Thank you.” I happen to look over his shoulder and see one complication. My vibrator. On my nightstand. No, no, no! How embarrassing!! Rafayel turns his head to see what I am staring at. “What are you scouting for cutie? Oh-“ He stops leaning down where I am and takes a few steps in the direction of my forbidden toy. I attempt to cover my eyes. I have no excuse for this. Rafayel picks up the small, lime green vibrator. His eyebrow raises and he looks back at me. “What is this green contraption?” Before I can choke up a random word besides “vibrator”, he flips the device around and finds the “on/off” button. His eyes widen as his finger presses down and we both hear the “buzzzzzz”. As if I wasn’t already blushing so much that my cheeks could practically cook an egg on top of themselves, I scurry and grab the vibrator to shut it off. “It’s nothing! Just a toy.” I say. Maybe if I play it cool, he will drop it. I do have lots of “normal” toys sitting around my room anyway. He looks down at the vibrator in my hand once more and glances back up at me, this time with a glint of amusement and something else I can’t put my finger on.

He smirks slightly and asks, “Tell me love, how do you *play* with this toy?” He takes a seat on my bed and his long-fingered, slender hand pats close beside him. He gets comfortable and grabs the nearest throw pillow and covers his lap. Why cover your lap? I think to myself. Maybe that is just how he likes to sit? I shrug off the question and take a seat. My heart has calmed since our first meet in the kitchen, but sitting this close beside Rafayel is making my tummy weak. I am letting him lead the conversation. I don’t want to ruin this amazing night by saying something stupid. After getting settled, I attempt to dodge the outright question. “How do you think I play with this toy?” I brace, hoping this will sway our conversation in a less embarrassing light for me. He licks his lips and I see a faint pink color roll onto his cheeks. He quietly clears his throat before speaking. “If I am not mistaken, my love, you pleasure yourself with this toy.” I open my mouth slightly and look away, totally in awe of how bold his comment is. Not only does his remark flush my body with a quiet shame, but such a dirty question heard from his sexy voice sparks a quick wetness in my pants. This man can make me choke and pass out on my own air. “Am I right?” He smiles while continuing and cocks his head to the side. “Yes..” I whisper and look down, not sure what else to say. I am not used to anyone talking so vulgar to me, boldly asking what I do in my private time. “Can you show me, princess?”

His sudden words strike me like lightning, my wetness now soaking underneath me. I feel an air of excitement at his suggestion, the fact that he wants to see me play with myself. Another part of me was apprehensive. Would he like my body? As I am lost in the moment, Rafayel leans forward towards me. His hands are on the bed holding him up, and he gives me a tender kiss, tongue slipping into my mouth and blessing me with his sweet, seductive taste. I can’t help but moan into his lips as he places his thumb on my cheek to hold me. “Do you want to show me?” He pauses to ask me with a sweet but mischievous expression. I didn’t realize Rafayel would be so eager to see this happen. I nod and smile, my body happily melting at his words.

He helps me pull my top off, showing my chest. A white, lacey bra is revealed, waiting to say hello to him. I watch his reaction as the whole sweatshirt is removed. His face is even more flushed now, so much so that I feel less embarrassed but empowered to make this pretty man’s cheeks as pink as possible. He suddenly pulls me closer, my knees holding me up on the bed as Rafayel puts his hands on my body. Fingers explore my back and my bralette suddenly unclips. I gasp at the event, my folds tingling in reaction. I need him, I thought. His lips land on the top of my left breast. He begins kissing and I feel a sudden cool air against my nipples as my bra drops. Rafayel stops what he’s doing to admire my chest. “So fucking beautiful, princess,” he says while taking a glance up at me. My hands run through his soft, purple hair, slightly gesturing him to keep going. He sighs a hot, lustful breath onto my chest, making my skin shiver with arousal. He keeps kissing, leaving electrifying splotches all over. He begins licking my nipple, first flicking his tongue to get my reaction. My whimpering had only just begun as he seemed satisfied to take it further. He begins sucking and nibbling. Moans escape my lips, only egging him on more. He sucks one nipple, a “pop” leaving his lips as he rewards the other with the same treatment. Rafayel seems hungry for more. His breaths are deeper, slower. He sits back for a second. “Does my princess want to show me how she pleases herself now?” My underwear is a mess from his touches, his delicious kisses. “Since you’re so eager.” I smile with a new feeling of comfortableness. “Fuck yes,” he replies with a sweet grin. He quickly moves over so I can have room on the small bed beneath us. I take off my leggings, leaving my lower half exposed to him. His eyes soak in the view, and he looks at me as if he just found himself the perfect cup of ice water on a blazing hot day. His eyes beam with desire for my body. “God..” He says, almost speechless. He helps me lie down, my head and back leaning against my headboard. He lies at my feet on his belly. He runs his hands on my thighs, caressing them before slowly opens my legs. “Oh fuck.. “ He bites his lower lip, almost stopping himself from outright devouring me. I notice the lime green vibrator now in his hand. He notices my glance. “Oh, my princess wants to play now, doesn’t she? Tell me, who do you think would be better at pleasing you? Me, or the toy?” He asks. The moment stills only for a second before he breaks the silence. Two long fingers slide deep inside me. I gasp in surprise and catch myself, soon feeling an overwhelming pleasure soon after. “Relax my love, I’ll make it feel good.” He says to me. He starts to pump the digits in a soft but steady pace. His fingers are curved slightly, making every dip deliciously electrifying. My back arches and my body unconsciously shimmies downwards, wanting to help ride his fingers myself. Another jolt of surprise hits me as I hear the buzz of the toy awakened and the bulbous tip touches my sensitive nub. Whimpers leave my lips as the feelings overtake me. Rafayel dips his fingers in and out of me in small bursts, letting the toy overstimulate me. As I feel my body draw closer, he turns the toy off. I breathe out for a second, my head warm from the pleasure. “I love the look on your face, princess. Your pretty hole fits my fingers nicely,” he says while showing me his two digits decorated with my cream. “What a good girl you are taking my fingers. But now it’s my turn in this competition.” He lets the toy leave his hands as it rolls onto the floor somewhere. His face fully flushed with pink as he leans his face down towards my slit.

My stomach tightens as his face inches towards my core. His beautiful lips reaching to taste my juices. A kiss is laid on my clit and his tongue slowly makes its way, circling the nub. His wet lips kiss and suck gently, leaving me to arch my back. He holds my hips down as he continues to explore with his mouth. “God.. you taste so good. You’re all mine.” He says in a busy, mumbled manner. His exploration takes him lower, and soon enough he slides his tongue inside me. In and out, he stretches my delicate hole, tasting more of my wetness. He moans his hot breath onto me as his tongue fucks me, making me grab my own breast in response. Rafayel notices and reaches up to play with my nipple. He pinches gently and twists, leaving me even more a mess as his hot, wet mouth has made its way back to sucking and licking my clit. He begins pumping digits back into me as he eats me. I feel myself getting close to the edge, my ears ringing from pure arousal and my head almost spinning. “That’s right. Good girl. Tell me how good it feels.” He demands from me. “S-So good Raf-f..,” I try to obediently answer, but my body has reached the limit. I see stars as my orgasm arrives. Moans leave me uncontrollably, and tears form in my eyes. I lie still for a moment, letting my body come down from this high. Still panting and legs shaking, I look at Rafayel. He begins leaning against the wall, sitting on the bed. He has his fingers in his mouth that were previously drenched with my wetness. He’s sucking on them and suddenly, I notice his pants are undone. He reveals a curved length with a pink, bulbous tip. Precum is spilled down onto his fingertips as he wraps his hand around his own cock. He moans, “mmm”, removing his fingers from his mouth after tasting me. He starts pumping himself, fast and hard. His breathing hot and a beam of sweat leaving his forehead. He looks my way and continues, “Such a beautiful mess you are, cumming all over my fingers-s like that. You’re such a naughty girl, only for me..mm.” Not long after, I sense he’s about to release. His face flushed in sweat and swirls of pink. I hurry and lean over his length, ready to help. “Oh, my princess wants a taste? Gonna be a good girl and swallow me whole?” My lips reach his tip and a long, sweet squirt fills my mouth. I feel Rafayel grunt and shake a bit as he releases. His panting and breathing relaxes as he finishes. I swallow what’s left of his decadent cream. He immediately offers me his hoodie sleeve to wipe my mouth and kisses my cheek.

After our long, steamy session had ended, Rafayel grabs all the pillows he can find and fluffs them. Wrapping his arms around me, we lie our heads down. He snuggles against me, and says kindly, “I hope I fulfilled all your wishes tonight.” “You did,” I replied and turned to face him. My eyes get heavy and teardrops start to form at the base. “I just wish this night could last forever. I am sure you have to leave soon..right? It’ll be so lonely with you gone.” I ask with a sigh as a tear falls slowly down my cheek. His pinkish-blue eyes look at me sadly. This whole night had been magical. Totally unexpected, but experiencing a night with Rafayel in real life made me feel so elated that I would be heartbroken to see him leave. He places his thumb on my cheek and wipes my tear. He caresses me. “My love, you have never been alone. I have always been here for you, even if it was just through a screen. And remember, your birthday isn’t over yet. Anything you wish for I will make happen, just for you.

So now, I promise. I will never leave your side.” He says, kissing my forehead.

[bahablastplz]

All in | Chapter 4

pairing: Lee Felix x f!reader (mafia au)

summary: You didn't know what you were getting yourself into when you started dating Yang Jungwon, notorious mafia boss. Your life gets flipped upside down when you're found beaten and bloody by SKZ, the rival mafia group, and you're quickly integrated into their lives. What will happen when you try to leave your old life behind and start anew?

chapter summary: you meet the other members and chaos ensues; Felix sticks up for you once again.

warnings: please see series masterlist for all warnings

series masterlist ~~ series taglist ~~ main masterlist

<< previous ♡ next >>

In the morning, after reapplying your makeup to most of your visible bruises on your face, you go downstairs to meet everyone. Your first thought is that something smells good, and once again you’re reminded by how little you’ve eaten the past few days. When you turn the corner to the kitchen, you’re surprised to see a long dining table with ten chairs, nine of them being occupied. How did you not notice it yesterday? You must have been too caught up in conversation with Felix and Lee Know to notice it. You freeze when you realize you must have walked straight into a meeting, one that you certainly don’t belong at. 

“Come, sit.” Chan says. It’s not a question so you don’t hesitate. You see some familiar faces that you’ve come to know over the past few days as well as some unfamiliar ones. You take place in the empty seat between Chan and Hyunjin and look around. All of them are eating breakfast, and it pleases you to see that what must be your seat has a full plate of food in front of it. Sausage, scrambled eggs, pancakes with syrup, and a cup of orange juice. 

“Can I… eat?” You question. You hear some laughter before Chan confirms that yes, the food is for you. You eat hurriedly, albeit awkwardly with the brace on your wrist. “This ish sho good,” you say with a mouth full of food. “Did you make this?” You look at Chan incredulously. 

“Not me,” he smiles. He gestures across the table to Lee Know. Your eyes widen, and you point at him, then the food, and then at him again. He cracks a small smile and, after seeing his rougher facade yesterday, this makes you puff your chest with joy. 

“She’s funny. I like her,” you hear someone say. You look at the man, him being one of the ones you hadn’t met yet. He has wide boba eyes and puffy cheeks stuffed with food, long brown hair covering most of his face. 

“What’s your name?” You ask him. He has kind eyes and you like that about him already. 

“Jisung,” he answers. You nod. The name suits him. You look around at the other faces and an introduction follows. The youngest member Jeongin introduces himself, followed by two more men that slightly intimidate you, Seungmin and Woojin. 

You sit in silence and let the conversation flow naturally, trying to get an understanding of the dynamics. It seems to be going normally, despite your presence, which you are grateful for. It is mostly jokes between Han and Changbin, and some more silent conversation between Seungmin and Lee Know. You pick up on the fact that Lee Know is leaving after breakfast for his infiltration mission.

“So, Y/N, tell us about yourself,” someone suddenly says. It’s Woojin. He is looking at you with an unwavering gaze that makes you slightly uncomfortable–has he been staring this whole time?

“Oh, um… There really isn’t much to tell.” You say. You try to leave it at that and drop the topic, not really wanting to disclose much to the man you don’t really know. He has a very wide smile that doesn’t quite meet his eyes, and something about that is unsettling. 

“Nonsense, we’ve heard so much about you! You really seem like the fun, curious type, like a little mouse.” 

“Um–” you start and then stop, not really sure what to say. 

“I heard you had quite a fun night, right little mouse?” You wish he would stop calling you that ridiculous nickname, as it has you squirming uncomfortably in your seat. 

“What happened last night is between Y/N and myself at this point. It concerns no-one further.” You’re happy when Chan speaks up on your behalf, and you let out a sigh of relief. 

“You’re right, Chan. I would keep an eye on her, though. She’s just too pretty to let out that late at night again. You really need to put a leash on her, you can never let someone like her out of your sight–” Woojin lets out a grunt as Seungmin elbows him in the ribs. Your stomach churns at the man’s words but you feel happy that others, even those that don’t know you that well, are willing to stand up for you. You have to remind yourself that you’re surrounded by some of the most dangerous men in the country, and a few slightly uncomfortable comments should be the least of your worries, but they do seem to be trying to make sure you don’t feel threatened in this house. You glance at Felix for the first time that morning but he isn’t looking at you. He is boring a hole into the side of Woojin’s head with the intensity of his gaze. It sends a shiver down your spine. 

Breakfast wraps up, albeit a little more awkwardly than before, and Jeongin offers to clean the dishes. The members disperse and you start to walk back to your room but freeze, realizing you have nothing to do. Maybe you could look around for a library? Surely there is one in a house this large. You aren’t sure how Chan would feel about you snooping around the house, though, so decide you will go to his office to ask him yourself. 

You find your way to the office you had been in only once before. You wrap your knuckles against the door three times lightly. 

“Enter,” you hear. As you creak the door open, you find Hyunjin and Chan sitting inside, looking at you in anticipation. 

“Um…” you start. “I was just wondering if you had a library? Or any books I could read?” You stand there somewhat awkwardly, not really looking at either of the men. 

“What type of book do you fancy?” Hyunjin is the one to ask. “You seem like the type to enjoy romance or fantasy. Or perhaps the classics are more your style?” You think for a second, trying to push aside the irritation you felt for the man yesterday. 

“Are there many options? I guess any novel would do. I don’t really care for Sci-Fi or nonfiction, though.” 

“Follow me,” Hyunjin says as he stands. The two of you look at Chan and he dismisses you with a wave of his hand. Hyunjin leads you down a large corridor decorated with various elaborate paintings. There are several rooms that you had never passed by before. One of them is a large gym with glass doors, and though you don’t get a good glance at the equipment, you can see Felix and Changbin inside. You can hear them grunting and see them lifting weights. If Hyunjin notices you pause, he doesn’t say anything, but he does clear his throat. Snapping your head back to him, he gestures for you to follow him into a room that is tucked away from the rest.

It’s a bedroom that’s at least three times the size of the guest room you had found yourself in. A large king size bed is in the middle with white silk sheets. There are a lot of windows, lots of natural light shining through to illuminate the contents of the room. The smell of something floral–lavender, wafts through the air, followed by something sharper, more chemical… Paint. A large cloth is draped across the expanse of the floor, littered with easels and canvases of various sizes. A makeshift art studio on one side of the room, decorated with different types of greenery and potted plants. It gives the room a very earthy and artistic vibe that you wouldn’t have associated with someone like Hyunjin, an intelligent know-it-all who couldn’t care less about your feelings. Your eyes flit to the corner of the room, a scene for a still-life set up with random items under a bright lamp to replicate artificial light; a bowl full of fruits and flowers are the subjects of focus, though the canvas he was painting on is currently covered up. 

Hyunjin ignores your wandering gaze and walks right past the scene, leading you to a marvelous floor-to-ceiling bookshelf. Your jaw drops. It even has a ladder attached to the top of the shelf with wheels, giving you the ability to reach the books on the highest shelf if you so choose. 

His gaze bounces around, as if searching for something, but he finds it almost immediately. That’s how you can tell that the shelves are organized very particularly so that he can find whatever he wants in an instant. He hands you a hardcover, leather-bound copy of Pride and Prejudice. 

“If that’ll be all, do you need me to help you find your way back?” 

“What–Are you just assuming that this is what I want to read? What about what I want?” You scoff at him in disbelief. 

“I’m not trying to offend, but I made a series of calculated judgments to decide what you’d be most fond of. Am I wrong?” He looks at you questioningly. 

“No, but I… Can I at least look at your other options? It infuriates me that you make all of these assumptions about me.” 

“Go right ahead and look, however, you’re mistaken. They’re not assumptions, they’re well-educated inferences.” 

“Oh yeah genius? What inference made you come to the conclusion that I would like Pride and Prejudice?” You wave the book in his face in agitation. 

“Let’s see. You have a college education which indicates that your reading level is above the national average, able to understand the complicated diction required from a period piece while also able to digest the overarching themes. You at one point held a job as an office-worker, though your freedom to choose and passion for work were taken away by Yang Jungwon, I’m assuming. You, much like Elizabeth Bennet, find yourself in a world that causes you to seek love outside of social conventions. You’re tenacious and strong-willed, hot-headed, and no-nonsense.” He pauses, looking at you. “Your willingness to defy rules and escape in the middle of the night also leads me to believe that you’re a hopeless romantic, though I can tell you’re smart enough to never go back to Yang Jungwon. Do my ‘assumptions’ yield correct?”

“Whatever. I’ll take the damn book,” you huff. You start on your heels and walk away from the irritating man. 

“You’re welcome!” He calls after you. “Let me know when you want my next recommendation!” You make a point to slam his door shut after and start the trek back to your room. 

On your way, however, you hear the click of a door behind you. You spin and see Woojin standing close. 

“Hello, little mouse. Are you lost?” 

“Oh, hello.” You say. “I was just returning to my room. I’ll be on my way.” You start walking again but feel his hand on your shoulder and your breath hitches, anxiety spiking. You don’t turn around. “Please don’t touch me.” 

“Wait just a moment,” he says. “I was wondering if you’d accompany me to my room?” You shake his hand off of your shoulder. 

“Please, I just want to be left alone.” You start walking again but your front is pushed harshly against the wall and you gasp, dropping the book in your hand. 

“Don’t be fucking rude,” he says. “I just wanted to talk.” You feel so small and vulnerable like this for what is now the third time in just three days. 

“You didn’t just want to talk,” you point out. “You invited me to your bedroom and won’t leave me alone.” 

“You need to learn your fucking place around here, little mouse,” he spits. He grabs your shoulders and pushes you back into the wall, hard. You can feel the wounds that Chan gave you yesterday hit the wall and you wince, still sensitive. You try to push back, but with one weak hand there’s not much force behind it. Woojin just laughs. 

“Woojin,” You hear a voice from behind say sharply. You whip your head around to see Felix, fresh from the gym and sweating from exertion. You sigh out a breath of relief when he shoots the other man a nasty look. “Let her go.” 

“Let her go? Are you going to cause a fight over this? You do remember Channie’s rules about us fighting, don’t you?” he sneers. Woojin smirks and doesn’t loosen his hold, instead pushing you harder against the cold wall. He’s not looking at you–he’s specifically watching for Felix’s reaction. 

You’re silent as Felix rolls up his sleeves. His jaw tenses and his eyes narrow, and you notice his tongue poking at the inside of his cheek in irritation. “I have a feeling Chris would take my side on this,” he says lowly. “I think you don’t want to push your luck.” 

“Want to bet?” Woojin grins, snaking an arm around your waist. His hand squeezes the flesh on your hips and you cry out. That is seemingly Felix’s last straw. 

You hear the sound of Felix’s fist cracking loudly against cartilage and Woojin lets out a shrill cry. He pushes you hard away from him and you stumble right into Felix’s arms. You peek over Felix’s shoulder to see Woojin clutching his face, blood pouring down his nose. Felix steadies you on your feet but leaves a protective hand on your shoulder, partially shielding you away from the man. 

“Fuck!” Woojin cries out, cradling his face. “That bitch isn’t even fucking worth it! She probably won’t even put out, and she doesn’t know her place. I don’t know about you, but I won’t tolerate someone who has a blatant disrespect for me. She’s fucking rude and stuck up–Chan wouldn’t like someone like her anyways.”

“Is that right?” The three of you turn around to see Chan standing in one of the doorways, leaning partially on its frame. His arms are crossed and his expression is devilish. 

“Chan!” Woojin says anxiously, his voice cracking slightly. “How much did you see?” 

“I saw enough. My office, now. All of you. I’m calling a group meeting.”

“It’s not what you think, I just–” 

“Save it.” Chan interrupts. “I don’t want to hear it from you. You better be in my office in the next five minutes or you’ll regret it.” He turns on his heels and leaves promptly, leaving the three of you in the hall in silence. Not another word is exchanged, because Chan’s word is final. 

When you get to Chan’s office everybody starts piling in. Chan sits on one side of his desk in his large leather chair, his arms crossed with a disapproving glare. On the other side of his desk sits Jisung, who is nervously picking at his nails, and Hyunjin who shoots you a concerned glance. Leaning up against one wall are Changbin, Minho, Seungmin, and Jeongin, who don’t really acknowledge your presence. To the right of Chan’s desk are empty seats for you, Felix, and Woojin. 

“Woojin, first I want you to explain what happened,” Chan says with a strong, sounding voice of authority. “I advise you to tell me the truth.”

“Y/N was talking shit about you!” Woojin accuses. You open your mouth to refute but Chan’s stern gaze shows that there will be no leniency if you do. “She was saying that you’re a bad leader, that you’re weak, and that you have absolutely no authority! I told her she was wrong, but she started to come onto me. She started getting touchy with me and when I refused her, Felix came out of nowhere and punched me right in the face, unprovoked.” In that moment you’re reminded of a kindergartener tattling on the teacher to get his way. You glance at Felix who almost unperceivably tenses at Woojin’s words but regains his composure just as fast. 

Chan nods his head, listening carefully. His face is devoid of emotion, leaving you unable to figure out if he believed the man’s words. “Felix,” he says. He provides no further explanation, wordlessly giving the man the opportunity to tell his side of the story. 

“Changbin and I were working out in the gym,” he starts. “I had watched her and Hyunjin pass by a few minutes before, so I had it on my radar to make sure she made it back to her room okay. When I came outside looking for her, Woojin was starting to touch her. She asked him to stop and he continued to push her. I intervened and he grabbed her.” Felix pauses to think. “Woojin was acting out to provoke me, if I were to guess.” 

“Alright,” Chan answers, crossing his arms. “So, I have two different sides to the story, which means one of you is lying to me. That’s a punishable offense. Y/N, I want you to think very carefully about what really happened before you answer.” 

You gulp. “Felix–” you glance at the man sitting next to you, the epitome of calm. 

“Don’t look at him, look at me,” Chan says harshly. 

“Right, uh… Felix is right. Um, Woojin started touching me and I asked him to stop. I was on my way back to my room and he cornered me and made me uncomfortable and Felix helped me.” You look right into Chan’s eyes the entire time you speak.

As you look around the room you see wide eyes staring at you. You feel a heat crawl up your neck from the attention as Han and Jeongin look at you with sad eyes. 

“Chan, they’re lying!” Woojin stammers. He’s wringing his hands together nervously. “They’re conspiring against me, I swear! I know Felix is your right-hand man, but you need to trust–” 

“Enough!” Chan stands up, knocking his chair back and staring Woojin down. “I don’t need to trust you, nor do I need to trust anybody in this room. But I do. I have hand-selected and picked each and every one of you because you are necessary to me and to what we do around here. That’s the way that I run my business. Not only do I expect the truth from all of my members,” he says, looking around the room, “but I require it. I saw the entire scene. That is why, Woojin, I am going to punish you. Because I do not tolerate lying, nor the blatant disrespect from my team. You will be given a second chance, for which you should be very grateful, but I’m afraid now that I will have to remind everyone in this room what it means to cross me.” 

Woojin looks stunned, unable to speak as he looks at Chan in awe. 

“Do you have a least favorite finger?” Chan asks, reaching into the drawer of his desk. He pulls out a long slender butchers knife and places it on his desk. Woojin laughs lightly, incredulous. 

“Did I say something funny? Because I believe I asked if you have a least favorite finger. If not, I’ll pick one for you. I don’t know if you’ll like my choice,” he ponders. “Perhaps I’ll choose your left ring finger, to let any future spouse you have know that you’re nothing but a dirty rotten liar–” 

“Pinkie! I choose my pinkie,” Woojin stammers. Chan gestures to his desk with his head, prompting Woojin to put his hand palm-down on its center. 

You look around the room, a lump forming in your throat. He was joking, right? Surely, he wasn’t going to–

“FUCK!” Woojin cries out. The scene went by so fast that you’re not even sure you know what really happened. Chan’s arm had extended upwards, and lightning fast he swung down the knife with precision, severing Woojin’s pinkie with one swift blow. Blood spurted from the wound, spluttering onto the desk, Chan’s face, and all over Woojin’s shirt. You didn’t get a good look at the gruesome looking appendage, now cradled inwards to Woojin’s body. You also didn’t realize that the tears were streaming down your face until it was too late. 

Chan takes a rag and wipes down the knife and his desk, then chucks the blood-stained rag and pinkie finger into a small desk trash can. 

“This is a gentle reminder that Y/N is necessary to us and our mission against Yang Jungwon. At this moment, she belongs to me, which means that if anybody makes a comment or touches her without either her or my consent, you will be punished. You are all dismissed.” Chan walks out of the office, leaving the rest of you behind. 

You feel nauseous and you wonder if you’re going to upchuck your breakfast. The casual display of violence reminds you just of the person that Bang Chan is and it doesn’t put you at ease. 

You stand up and begin to walk to your room before you hear a voice call your name. You turn around and see Felix, and instead of feeling comforted by his presence you run to your room faster and slam the door. In the privacy of your own room you allow yourself to sob heavily into your pillow. This is the life that you have somehow gotten yourself stuck in. These are the people that you are surrounded by. 

You’re not sure how long you stay like that until your sobs turn into hiccups, which inturn morphs into ragged breathing and you drift off to sleep. 

When you wake up, somebody's knocking on your door. It’s almost dark outside now, and you’ve slept almost the whole day away. 

Jeongin is standing outside of the door, a member that you haven’t talked to at all yet. He has boyish copper hair that frames his face stylishly and wears a pair of dark-framed glasses that suits his complexion well. His crescent, downturned eyes give him the appearance of a fox with a matching grin. He looks at you with a sheepish smile before talking. “Um… dinner is ready.” The thought of sitting at a table and being around everybody again, pretending as if nothing has happened makes your stomach churn. 

“I’m sorry, not hungry. Thanks,” you say. You go to shut the door in his face, not meaning to be rude but at least harsh enough to come across as stern, but his foot lodges in the door frame, keeping you from closing it all the way. He sighs. 

“I’m really sorry,” he says, and by the look on his face, you believe that he really is apologetic. “Chan says your presence is required.”

You follow him dejectedly to the kitchen in silence. 

That night you eat dinner surrounded by only seven of the nine members. Lee Know is now gone, having left on his mission, which makes some of the others appear more tense. The other absence has you sighing a breath of relief, because Woojin is not there. You sit in between Jeongin and Jisung this time. Not much conversation is had, and you certainly don’t look Chan in the eyes for the entire meal. 

When you return to your room that night, Pride and Prejudice is sitting on your bed. The book had been discarded and forgotten about amidst the disaster earlier, and its presence is oddly comforting. When you crack it open, a note falls out and onto your floor. In neatly written cursive, it reads: 

“Like Elizabeth Bennet, you are strong. Enjoy. –H.”

The message makes you scoff because at the moment you feel anything but. The last few days have made you feel so weak, small and powerless. You hate feeling like that, and this realization makes you think, maybe you do have something to thank Hyunjin for after all, despite how absolutely frustrating he has been. 

You are going to get stronger. 

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

taglist: @shuporanporang ; @purp13st4r ; @eurydiceofterabithia ; @heartsbyandra ; @thicccurls ;

@rylea08 ; @the-sweetest-rose ; @oddracha ; @kapelover ; @goldenmellow ;

@zerefdragn33l ; @uhh-awkward-rightt ; @astudyoftimeywimeystuff ; @kaleigh-2002 ; @thatonexcgirl ;

@mindfreecreator ; @linoalwaysknows ; @velvetmoonlght ; @minahaeyo ; @crystalchuuu ;

@hash2013 ; @skzswife ; @b0bbl3s ; @thecutiepieme ; @bear8585 ;

@moss-the-man ; @softkisshyunjin ; @sylveonitesworld ; @m00njinnie ; @nicoleparadas ;

@starsofasteria ; @klopez01 ; @luvlinos ; @hyunjinnnnnnnnnnnnnn ; @skz-akira ;

@boi-bi-ahaha ; @l33bang24 ; @Hermione640 ; @Gal821

[orchidyoonkook]

To What We Were Before, And All The Things After | JJK | Ch. 6 | M

Title: Eastern Arrivals and Unwanted Doubt

Pairing: Prince!College Student!JK x Fine Arts Major!(F)!Reader

Series Rating//Genre: (M) | College AU, Mild Royalty AU, Smut, Angst, Fluff, S2F2L, Indiffernce to lovers, sloooowwww ass burn

Summary: Nel's here for the week and you couldn't be more excited!! Jungkook's another story though...

Warnings: M, fluff, smut, swearing, drinking, pining, angsstt, slight boundary pushing (not sexual), unwanted/ unneeded overprotectiveness, jealousy, lying, [reader eats bacon and eggs but it's not specified what kind or where it's from, just bacon and eggs, so whether that means veggie, vegan or normal is up to you], intentional pissing off of Nel, a little spat between major characters, sex as a plot device.

Mature warnings under the cut.

Word Count: 6,945

Release Date: April 20, 2:00PM

A/N 1: 6 months later and we have chapter 6! slow updates, but they will be written and they will be posted. I have no plans to abandon this, I just, very unfortunately, have a bit of an outernet life now. So not a lot of free time to be creative which I hate. But it's here!!

Series: Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five

Mature Warnings: Consensual sex x 2, both reader with Nel and JK with Ady -> sorry not sorry cuz it's plot sex. We got us some: kissing, protected sex (as we should), missionary, fingering, oral (f. rec), tiny bit of groping (consenual), multiple orgasms, loud sex, like annoyingly, sex as a terrible coping mechanism (imo), fantasizing.

Bouncing lightly from foot to foot, you’re buzzing after finally receiving the text you were waiting on a few minutes ago.

Nelly <3 [10:10pm]: Landed. See you soon 😘

He’s almost here. He’s almost here!

Just a few more seconds until—

The gates slide open. A flood of people in a mixture of sweats and business casual wear with luggage of all sizes and neck pillows walk through. You hold up the sign above your head with both hands, a smile that could outshine the sun plastered on your face, and search.

Where is he? Where is he, where is he, where is he, you think as you scour the bodies filing out of the automatic doors. You can’t see him. He’s none of the nameless faces that pass you by as they find their family, friends or rides. 

Is this even the right group of people? What if his luggage got lost and he won’t be out with this group. What if he got taken aside for some reason, and now he’s being held in some dusty room being asked a bunch of stupid questions he doesn’t know how to answer? What if he’s fig—

But then there’s a gap in the crowd, and the boy you’ve spent the last half decade of your life with comes into perfect, crystalline view. His lips pulled taught, teeth beautifully bared as he sets his sights on your sign high in the air, then down to you.

And you're running. 

You’re running and dodging and swerving until you’re jumping into Nels arms as he abandons his suitcase in favour of keeping you both up right. He buries his face into your neck, holding you so tightly you think he’ll never let go. And that’s just fine with you as you hold on just as tight, taking in a big breath of him too. 

He smells like airplane and coastal breeze and most importantly, home. 

Nel smells like home.

A muffled, “Ohhhhhhh, I missed you,” greets your ears, and you melt into him even more if that's even possible.

“I missed you too,” you say, pulling back and kissing him. You don’t really care if there’s an audience or not right now. Not when Nel’s here, and he’s in your arms, and he’s yours for a whole 9 days and life is as it should be once again.

He releases his hold slightly, but your arms don’t leave his shoulders. The sign still clutched, now crushed and crinkled, in one hand. 

“Car?” he asks, a kiss to your nose.

“This way,” you lead, releasing your hold.

Luckily, his suitcase is small, so he forgoes rolling it, instead gripping the handle at the top and carrying it in one hand. Your own reaching for his other and not letting go. He’s going to have to peel you off him if he wants space right now. 

Nel’s wearing his usual fall attire; a dark green school sweater that has ‘ECAD’ written over the chest in a large, academic looking mustard yellow font, regular old blue jeans, and dark brown lace up boots. His short, dirty blond hair's covered by a hat you’d gotten him as a highschool graduation present, and his ocean blue eyes remain as gorgeous as they were the day you met. 

Passing through doors to the outside and back to lot J, you hop in the car as he puts his bag in the trunk.

“How have you been? What’s new? What’s not? Tell me everything,” he asks as he climbs in and sits beside you, hand finding yours again. 

Never gone for too long. You relish in the comfort and happiness that alone brings you. 

He’s finally here. You finally have him back.

“I’m great. Yuri’s still Yuri, classes are only a little more challenging this year, but I’m still at the top of them,” Nel slips in a ‘not surprised’ and you smile brighter as you continue. “They’re already telling us to start brainstorming ideas for our thesis show next year,” you have no idea what you’re going to do, but you’re working on it. “Campus is the same, dorms are the same, the cafe’s the same. Though, they have the egg tarts I like in more, which is awesome for my taste buds and terrible for my bank account.” 

Vivian stayed true to her word, and now they had the tarts in every week. 

“I can only imagine,” Nel jokes.

“Uhhmm, what else…” a thought pops up, and you guess you can tell him. It doesn’t reveal anything the whole world doesn’t already know. “The prince is dating Adaline Dupree.”

His eyebrows raise, remembering, “Oh yeah, that’s right, the prince goes to your school now.”

“Yep.”

“Have you met him?”

Is he seriously not completely shocked at the prince dating Adaline? You only bitched about her to him all the time.

“Uhhh… yep, once or twice, I guess.” 

You hate it. You hate lying, especially to Nel. You hate it so much, but it’s for the greater good. It’s to keep the peace. But that doesn’t stop the burning feeling in your chest nor the roil in your belly.

“The day he arrived Yuri dragged me down to see him speak. She made us sit front row because Yuri,” Nel nods, knowing exactly what you mean. “He had everyone assemble to hear why he was at school and tell us not to treat him like a prince. He wants to be able to study without his title getting in the way.”

You hit your blinker, making a one handed left turn. 

“Makes sense. Is he nice at least?” Nel doesn’t sound at all suspicious, and why should he? You’ve never given him reason to not believe you at your word before. Never lied to him before.

Fuck you hate this so much. It was so much easier when he was 5000 miles away. But now that he's right beside you? This week may end up being more difficult than you thought.

“He was very princely. Tried to kiss my hand like he did like every other girl there, but I made it a handshake instead. Figured if he wants to be treated like everyone else, I would liste—Oh!” you laugh before you can even get the words out.

“What?” he asks, intrigued but confused.

You can barely speak coherently. “You should have seen Yuri’s face when I called him Jungkook and not Prince or Your Highness...her eyes nearly fell out of her head,” tears are starting to form from laughing so hard. “It was great.”

“He didn’t mind?” Nel asks and you shake your head. Yuri’s face that day will forever be seared into your brain for whenever you need a pick-me-up. 

“No, he was grateful actually. I was the first person that had addressed him like that, the way he’d asked to be.” Stopping at a red light, you're finally regaining yourself.

“Well,” he squeezes your hand, “you always were good at first impressions,” and looks at you so softly you can’t help but smile into the kiss you give him. 

He remembers that school art fair just as fondly as you do. 

Nel pulls away first with a thought. “Is Yuri with us this time?” 

Yuri hadn’t been able to go home last year, her parents too busy on a work trip, so she stayed back and kicked it with you two, but also gave you your space when needed.

Lots and lots of space.

“Nope! Parents welcomed her with open arms this afternoon, I’m sure. They’re all on some tropical island down south. She’s bringing me an ocean bottle though, so I’m excited for that. It’s been a while since I’ve been able to add a new one.”

Everytime you travelled somewhere with a beach you got a glass bottle and filled it with half sand, half water, added in some shells or rocks and labelled it. Instead of towels, keychains, or magnets, you did ocean bottles. They lined a shelf in your room back home. 

You probably have at least fifteen of them by now. Your mum likes to travel and make sure you experience the world around you, not just your little corner of it.

“Oh that’s great babe! I know how much you love those.”

“Yeah, it is.” You lean your head on his shoulder, basking in his presence for as long as the light remains red. 

He’s here. He’s yours. 

You only have to do this for a couple more years and then you’ll be together all the time. God you can’t wait. But you are nothing if not disciplined. 

And it’s going to be so worth it in the end.

The rest of the ride to your dorm goes by quickly. 

Some more red lights, some more kisses. You point out the same things you always do on the way back, and Nel acts like it’s the first time he’s seen them, just like he always does.

His hand never leaves yours over the center console. 

Soon enough, you find yourselves flopping down on your bed. Bags, jackets and shoes, scattered. Nel pulls you into him, his head on your pillow, yours lying on his chest. True peace settling in for the first time in months.

“I can't wait until we’re done school and I have more than four and a half months with you a year,” he sighs.  “It’s not enough. I want more. Need more.”

“Me too. But good things come to those who wait.”

“Yeah…I’m just really sick of waiting.” 

“Me too,” you repeat in a yawn. 

Nel’s breathing slowly evens out as you lie there, content to be in your arms again. And you look up to see his eyes closed, warm exhales brushing over your face from his nose. 

You can’t blame him for being so tired. He’d had an early morning exam before flying out, even brought his suitcase to it so he could leave the second he was done. Then, the flight alone was ten hours, plus travel times to and from the airports was about an hour each way, and the wait time before boarding was another two. 

Shit, he’s probably been awake for around eighteen hours straight at this point because he’s also the type that can’t sleep on planes no matter what he tries. 

Oh, Nel...Of course he’s exhausted.

Giving him a squeeze before getting up, you take off his socks and jeans carefully, then tuck him into bed as much as you can. You’d try the sweater, but it involved too many working parts and you didn’t want to wake him, so you figure it’s best to have the window open tonight instead. 

Grabbing your phone, you tiptoe to the bathroom and do your night time routine. It’s not an overly complicated one, just brushing your teeth, washing your face and a simple 3 step skincare routine of cleanser, toner and moisturizer. Short and sweet, but it does the job. 

Halfway through brushing, you do your friend due diligence and send Yuri a ‘back safe’ text, just like she’d sent you her own ‘here safe’ when she’d landed.

You spit and rinse, moving onto washing your face and applying cleanser.

Teeth clean and face moisturized, you sneak into your room again. Nel's still out cold. 

You sneak out of habit—your mom wakes at the sound of a pin dropping. But absolutely nothing could wake Nel now outside of his mother’s voice and his morning alarm. It’s a talent of his you’ve always been jealous of.  

Removing today's clothes and tossing them in your overflowing hamper—reminder to self: do laundry—you slide on your pjs and climb into bed beside him, plugging in your phone and setting it down. 

A thought pops into your head and you pick it back up, shooting a quick text before you can think twice. 

You [11:26pm]: home safe

It pings not seconds later.

PJK [11:26pm]: Thanks Picasso  PJK [11:27pm]: glad ur home safe

Your heart beats a little louder at the nickname, and you chalk it up to the excitement still in you at having Nel here and being tired. 

But you sleep better that night than you have in a long time. 

A short, repetitive, rhythmic vibration. 

Picasso [11:26pm]: home safe

Jungkook is still standing in the same corner by the wall, Adaline somewhere in the crowd in front of him dancing with her friends. She asked him to join her, but he declined. He doesn’t need to see himself more than half drunk and dancing on the cover of tomorrow’s news cycles. Not to mention his security team would shut the party down the second a camera flashed.

His guards are carefully stationed throughout the house, all dressed down in casual wear, a few with empty cups in their hands. One is watching some sort of beer pong like game in the corner, another is mingling with some guys over in the kitchen. Three he can’t immediately see. And he knows his head guard is outside in a black car ready to get him out at a moment's notice.

Nobody can tell they aren’t here for the party, not unless they’re sober enough to notice watchful eyes continually making their way over the crowd as the night goes on. 

Your text woke him from the stillness he’s adapted from standing so long, trying hard not to draw attention to himself. 

You were home safe. Home safe from the airport. Home safe from picking up Cornelius. 

Your boyfriend. 

Cornelius, your boyfriend. 

He doesn’t acknowledge his teeth grinding.

You were home from picking up your beau but even then, you’d texted him to let him know you were back on campus safely. To let him know you were okay. 

It’s the first thing that makes him smile all night.

So he sends back, a bit to quickly: 

Me [11:26pm]: Thanks Picasso Me [11:26pm]: glad ur home safe

Because it means something to him that you deem him close enough to send a ‘home safe’ text too. 

That you want him to know you’re back.  

Want him to know you’re safe.

Whether you know it or not, your safety means a lot to Jungkook, so that little two word text makes his heart lurch. 

He needs to leave. 

He needs to get out of this fucking house and back to his dorm. He came, he drank, he observed, he fulfilled his boyfriend duty.

That’s enough for him. 

He shoots Adaline a text that says he isn’t feeling well and gets out as fast as he possibly can, dodging bodies left and right and doing his best to hide his face. 

Once he’s out, security team in tow, the cooling midnight air does him some good. 

“Someone make sure she gets back to her dorm safe,” he says in their general direction, brain too muddled to be polite in this exact moment, but it’s nothing they haven’t seen before. 

This is going to be such a long week.

He can’t wait till it’s over. Till he doesn’t have to share anymore. 

He was never very good at it anyway. 

The smell of bacon wakes you. 

And toast, and…

Eggs? 

You think, at least. Since when do you have bacon? Or eggs? Toast is a given, it’s part of your life’s blood.

Opening your eyes, you blindly reach for your phone, successfully unplugging it and bringing it to your face.

The screen is too bright but you suffer through it, squinting.

9:27am. 

9:27? 

You slept for ten hours!?

You can’t remember the last time you slept more than 6 consecutively, aside from recovery nights, and even then it was fitful.

Nel comes in with two plates, his full with a very Eastern breakfast of pancakes, scrambled eggs and bacon. Yours with two pieces of toast, lots of bacon, a bit of eggs and some fruit. Where did he—?

He smiles at your confusion, “You have a cafeteria that sells breakfast food, you know.”

You know that.

“I know that.”

“Do you? Because the look on your face says otherwise.”

You flop back down and pull the pillow over your head, mumbling incoherent nonsense. You rarely used the dorm cafeteria for breakfast. Much preferring the greenhouse cafe or simple toast and juice that you can make in your dorm.

He chuckles. “Two breakfasts for me then, okay, if you insist,” Nel moves to leave but you screech, uncovering your face.

“Noo! I want it. Please, sweet nutrition,” he hands the plate over when you sit up, arms out stretched, and you dig in. 

After a piece of bacon, you ask, “How long have you been up?”

Nel’s sitting with his legs crossed at the end of your bed, munching away, “Long enough to get changed, grab my wallet, get food and come back.”

The bacon is really good. You’ve never been so glad he knew you so well as you grab another piece from the dwindling pile.

“You slept well then, too? That’s good, I’m glad. You needed the rest.”

“Having you around always makes it easier to fall asleep,” he nudges your knee with his elbow.

Even after five years he can still make you blush.

“I know the feeling.”

You two fall into step, starting your weeks in advance prepared plans, the rest of your day passing quickly. 

Too quickly. 

And so does the next day, and the next, and the next. 

All of your activities are going great. The zoo, picnics, study dates, restaurant dates, historical, artistic and architectural museum tours. Even a swim at the school’s indoor pool, and there’s plenty more to come. 

Things slip back into being easy, just as they always have been with Nel, ever since that first day back in tenth grade. 

He knows you like the back of his hand and predicts your moves before you make them, just like you do for him. 

You know his favourite foods, and where he prefers to park when driving—always avoiding open curbs—you know his dream travel destinations, and who his favourite musicians are. You know his favourite pencils to design with and his favourite pencils to shade with, that he always put on his right sock first, then right shoe, then left sock and left shoe. You know that his drink order is an iced coffee with two cream and two sugar, that he prefers loose shirts over fitted ones, and that his favourite colour is orange.

It’s a pretty orange too, not just any orange. You wonder if it’s anything like Jungkook's–

Wait. 

You search your memory for the information, going through favourite foods, drinks, music—all discussed previously, because you know their answers. But colour?

Nothing.

How have you never asked what Jungkook’s favourite colour is?

Isn’t that usually one of the first things people ask when they’re trying to get to know one another? Funny. Guess you’ll have to inquire the next time you see him. 

Anyways, just like you know everything there is to know about Nel, he knows everything about you too, including your routines. 

Which is why at twelve noon every day, he starts getting ready to go to the greenhouse for your afternoon study session.

Including today.  

Your week’s already half over and you hate it. Time always moves far to fast when all you want it to do is slow the fuck down. 

You only have five days left. Five days.

You’re lucky the greenhouse cafe is open during break, some places on campus are required to stay open for the students who can’t make it home, but greenhouse chooses to. 

As you and Nel turn the corner you see a familiar figure sitting in his old spot at the back of the patio. The same hat, mask and hoodie, now paired with a leather jacket on top due to the weather starting to cool down.

You can tell Jungkook wasn’t expecting to see you by the way he stiffens before those all too familiar brown eyes of his meet your own. Which is fair, your schedule shifts a bit when you’re on break, he isn’t used to you being here at twelve on Wednesdays. 

But as quickly as he sees you, his gaze is back on his laptop, like he never saw you in the first place. 

Like you asked him to do. 

And a sharp pain stings inside your chest.

When you and Nel get to your table, he sits in the seat opposite to where you always do, leaving where Jungkook usually sits beside you, empty. 

A part of you is grateful for that, though you can’t figure out why and table that self discussion for a later date. 

Setting down your things, you ask Nel if he wants coffee. He answers yes, like always, and after a quick visit with Viv, you're pulling out your chair and setting down your cups. Your back faces Jungkook. It’s a small mercy you can’t see him. Maybe you can forget he’s here and actually focus on your work. 

But it’s also exactly because of your position, that you can’t see as Jungkook subtly watches you over the rim of his laptop while you and Nel talk quietly and study. 

Nel can though. 

It feels weird to ignore him. To pretend you don’t know one another when for the better part of the last seven weeks all you’ve done is talk, hang out, study or a mixture of the three, every day. 

When having him sit behind you and not beside you feels so wrong and so foreign. 

But this is your own doing, you caused this. So you need to suck it up and get used to it. 

This is exactly what you asked for all those weeks ago. The perfect solution to your problem. 

No one can know. 

Not Nel. 

Not anyone. 

But fuck, if it didn’t absolutely suck in practice. 

Setting some of your books out around you and on the table Jungkook usually uses, you dig into your business homework. Having a major and a minor are great for job prospects, on paper, and in practice after you’ve completed them.

But getting them? It takes years of hard work and dedication with no distractions. 

None.  

You spend almost every free moment you have doing homework or practicing, trying to get ahead, trying to stay on top.

…Trying to beat Adaline. 

But you just use that as fuel for your drive to be better. To be the best. 

Competition is healthy. Especially when you’re winning against the rich brat who’s used to getting what she wants. 

Not that you're petty.

Ehh…You are. But only a little bit. At least you can admit it.

Nel gets to work as well, the sunlight from his spot is great for drawing. He’s working on a rough version of his thesis project that’s due at the end of the year. He has to have multiple completed renderings as well as a scale model, and he’s been brainstorming since last year about what he wants to do.

Currently, he’s drawing up an airport, trying to design so that it’s not confusing and complicated for first time users. 

However, his occasional swearing and muttering to himself makes you think he’s having a tough time with it. 

You try not to laugh, but a small giggle slips out. 

“What,” Nel asks, a little distracted.

“Nothing.”

“No really, what’s up? I could use a laugh right now,” he insists, eyes on you at first. But then something behind you steals their attention every few seconds. 

Someone. 

“You just…you still make funny sounds when you're frustrated with a drawing. It’s endearing.” You reach to place your hand on his knee, trying to gain back his full attention. 

Ignore him, Nel. Please ignore him. 

“Yeah...” he exhales. “I guess airports are out,” his hand covers yours quickly and you hear a faint chair screech from behind you. Nel doesn’t miss it as he says. “But I do have a much bigger appreciation and understanding for all those who came before me,” pupils now unmoving from their target behind you. 

Fine. 

You’ll acknowledge it. 

“Is everything okay? You keep looking at something? Is there an animal or…” You know what he’s looking at, but go so far as to turn anyway, playing up the ‘confused girlfriend’ role. But Nel squeezes your hand, stopping you. 

He leans in, placing a fake mask of serene on and lowers his voice. “That guy keeps looking at us, moreso you. And he looks pissed off.”

Fuck, think of something.

Anything. Anythi—Oh!

You lean in too, so close your noses almost touch. “He’s probably just upset we’re talking. The greenhouse cafe is usually a quiet place to work,” good enough, you think. That’s believable, right?. “It’ll be fine. Let’s just ignore him and get back to work.”

You place a quick kiss on his lips but Nel isn’t letting up on his unnecessary vigilance. But then again, he doesn’t know that Jungkook is the opposite of a threat to you. So you reassure him, in your own way.  

“Babe, seriously. If you’re going to be all protective or whatever, don’t. I come here everyday when you're not here and I’m still alive and unharmed. Go get a sandwich or a refill to get your head off of it and say hi to Viv. She’s still here, and I’m betting she remembers you. You’re kinda hard to forget.” 

You can tell Nel’s about to reject the idea when you insist. “I’ll be fine, Nel. Promise. Three years and not a scratch on me.” 

He sighs through his nose, but relents. 

Placing his drawing pad on the table, he gets up, but not before placing another kiss to your forehead and mumbling, “Scream ‘cumquat’ if you’re in danger and I’ll come running, okay?” 

You laugh outright at that. “Will do.”

You watch him as he goes, and the second he’s inside, you’re racing for your phone, typing at an astounding speed.

You [1:45pm]: Didn’t your royal upbringing teach you not to stare so blatantly!??? Nel caught you

You hear a quiet ping from behind you followed by a small exhale that sounds more like a disguised chuckle. 

PJK [1:45pm]: Yes.  

You [1:45pm]: So you intentionally got caught?

PJK [1:45pm]: Maybe

You [1:45pm]: Shithead

PJK [1:46pm]: Rude

You [1:46pm]: You deserve it

PJK [1:46pm]: I know. I’m just making sure he’s treating you right.  PJK [1:47pm]: and trying to see if he acts differently when he knows he’s being watched. He’s very protective you know 

Jungkook saw the second Nel noticed he was watching you. 

His posture changed from easy going to on alert. His hand went so quickly to yours on his knee and his public displays of affection increased significantly. 

It was pathetic, really. It went above a normal amount of protection. Nel was claiming his ‘property’, making sure Jungkook knew not to touch. 

And the nasty look Nel gave him as he entered the cafe—gratefully still unrecognizable in his disguise—was another silent way to say back off, stay away, and don’t try anything or you’ll regret it. 

It was a red flag in Jungkook's mind. A small one, but it’s still there because his efforts are completely unneeded. After five years together, Nel should know that you can handle yourself. 

Hell, Jungkook knows that and it’s only been two months. 

You [1:47pm]: yes I know he is, and I already told you he treats me well because he always. Does. Not just in public or under watchful eyes  You [1:48pm]: and since when does my boyfriend of half a decade need your ~princely~ seal approval?

He ignores the small jab. You only ever brought up his title when you were mocking or upset with him. And he knows that in this case it's the latter.

PJK [1:48pm]: Since now PJK [1:49pm]: And it’s not that I don’t trust you at your word, but I usually like to decide for myself

That has you reeling. 

Where does he get the audacity to think he has any say in or about your relationship? Your very solidly built, five years strong, healthy, happy relationship?

Because he’s the Prince? You’re pretty sure you established on day one that you didn’t and still don’t give a fuck about his birthright. 

If he thinks he gets an opinion on any of this he’s got another thing coming the second he asks you anything about Adaline again. 

You’re in the middle of typing out a paragraph explaining all of this when another text comes in.  

PJK [1:49pm]: Because I’ve seen far too many women in love who are blind to certain things PJK [1:50pm]: And far too many hurt in the end because of it. 

You pause. Fingers frozen mid swipe.

Blind to what?

How many women did he know that were in love but missing something about their partner? Surely there couldn't be that many. Right? 

But this was Jungkook you were talking to, he’s lived numerous lifetimes already. That fancy birthright of his you don’t care about having given him far too many life experiences to have at his age. And they’re only going to increase from here.

So instead of hitting send and cursing him out quite spectacularly, you stop and think for a moment. 

What did he see that they didn’t? 

That you might… not?

You’re a decent judge of character if your record tracks. And it does. 

So your curiosity gets the better of you as you delete your rage paragraph and settle for a simple two word question instead. 

You [1:50pm]: Like what?

You can see that he’s typing out a response but the bell on the cafe door rings and you put your phone down. It buzzes with his response a few seconds after. 

You’ll check it later.

Nel takes his seat again, and you notice he has his sandwich, but also that he’s moved his chair and starts sketching from the new position giving him a direct eye line with Jungkook. 

You internally scoff at that. 

Nel has always been protective. But he was raised that way and you don’t mind too much. You don’t expect him to change his core values for you, just like he never expects you to change yours for him, even when a couple of his are just the slightest bit overbearing. 

But that’s part of a relationship. Give and take and compromise. No one person is going to be perfect for another. It’s healthy to have differences. 

That being said, Nel doesn’t change positions for the rest of the hour. Even as Jungkook packs up and leaves, Nel eyeballs him until he’s out of sight. 

That night while Nel is brushing his teeth and you're lying in bed, you check the text from Jungkook. 

PJK [1:51pm]: Like if they’re getting treated the way they should be or if they’re settling for the best they think they can get or for the first guy that showed interest. The one who hasn’t grown up even though time has passed. The one who’s holding her back by not setting her free

You stare at your phone. At the text. At his words. 

And dismiss it. 

You aren’t one of those women. 

You know yourself. 

You know what you deserve and how you should be treated. You didn’t settle, you just happened to find your love at a young age. That’s something special and rare and should be protected. And Nel has most certainly grown up as time passed. 

Jungkook is being ridiculous for absolutely no reason. Surely he’ll have seen that today. Seen how Nel loves you, treats you how you deserve to be treated, holds you up. Supports you. 

You’re confident he’ll be eating his words soon enough.

Finished brushing, Nel comes back to the bedroom and snuggles up behind you and you put down your phone. 

He cuddles you for a minute before placing a kiss at your neck. Then another. And another before he’s mouthing up your neck, and sliding a hand up your thigh and to your waist. It pauses on your stomach with teasing caresses, before dipping lower and lower, beneath the fabric of your sleep shorts, and under the elastic of your underwear. 

A small moan sounds in your throat at the touch. His fingers meeting your folds and the sensitive bundle of nerves at their apex.

You wanted this. 

Need it. 

He’s grown, you think; as a finger slips in you and you gasp at the stretch, legs opening wider for him. A second finger plunges in and you can feel yourself getting wetter and wetter with every thrust. Just like you can feel a bulge forming behind you. 

You know what you deserve; as he uses them to scissor you open, making sure you’re ready. You roll over, now on your back with Nel over you as he pulls your shorts and underwear down to get better access, your own hands removing your shirt.

You’re not settling; as Nel moves down, tongue making a couple swipes at your entrance and you hiss in pleasure before he’s reaching over, grabbing a condom from the nightstand drawer and sliding it on, length hard and dripping at the sight of you bared before him. 

Nel wasn’t the first guy who’d shown interest, just the first you’d said yes to; and he slides in. Both of you moaning at the snug fit.

“Fuck...” he says and you nod, agreeing, before pulling him down into a deep kiss.

He eases into a slow, steady rhythm that has you breathy and his abs tensing. 

But it’s not enough. You need more. You need to erase these past two months without him, and take enough to last for the next two. It’s never enough, but you try. 

“Faster baby,” you beg, “Please…faster.”

Nel isn’t holding you back. Jungkook doesn’t know what the fuck he’s talking about. 

Nel picks up the pace and you start moaning, louder like you know he likes. Likes to hear he’s doing a good job. He’s grabbing your breast and sucking in a nipple, tongue swirling and you're bringing your hips to meet his with every thrust. 

It feels good. It always feels good with Nel. 

He was your first everything. First kiss, first intimate touch, first love. 

Only love.

And he makes you feel good with that love. That touch. His kiss.

He makes you feel safe, inside and out. 

Jungkook can go eat grass. He doesn’t know your relationship. Doesn’t know the first thing about it. 

“There, right there!” you whine as Nel hits your sweet spot once and you arch. He tries again but misses, continuing faster, his peak coming quickly. 

Jungkook can never understand what you two have. What you two have built in these five years. The understanding and security that comes with it. 

He’s being an unrightfully opinionated ass on something he knows nothing about and— 

Fuck! Why are you thinking about Jungkook? You’re having sex with Nel. You shouldn’t be thinking about anything or anyone other than that. 

Than him. 

So why can’t you get what Jungkook said out of your fucking head?

“Ahhh… oh fuck. I’m cumming.” Nel’s hips stutter, his face contorting in pleasure as he releases, filling the condom.

You kiss him passionately to rid yourself of your princely plagued thoughts, the ones filling you with unwanted and unnecessary doubt. You want them gone, gone, gone. Nothing but Nel in their place. 

And you slip an, “I love you,” in between kisses for good measure. 

Jungkook could never understand. 

Nel kisses you back just as hard, dramatically slowing his thrusts, drawing out his high for as long as possible. 

“I love you too.”

Jungkook doesn’t know anything. 

Nel groans into your lips when it becomes too much and pulls out. 

Removing and tying off the condom, Nel goes to the washroom to throw it out and starts the shower he knows you’ll be joining him for when you're done. 

A routine you’re all too familiar with. 

One you created. 

He knows you need a few minutes to get yourself off. 

You’ve never been able to cum from sex with a partner. No matter how hard you tried. No matter what you did. 

Most would think Nel wasn’t a good lover or wasn’t trying enough, but it was through years of constantly trying anything and everything that you learned you just…couldn’t. 

No amount of fingering or oral or penetration from your partner could make you orgasm. 

So Nel knows to wait for you in the shower as you finish yourself off, your own fingers making quick work of it, because you always could for some reason. 

It isn’t your ideal situation, and it isn’t anyone’s fault. But it works. You both get the intimacy you crave and you accepted a long time ago that you were just one of the unlucky few. 

Screams fill Jungkook’s ears as a hand finds his hair and nails rake against his scalp. 

Adaline isn’t a quiet receiver. 

“Ohmygod!” She shouts for the twentieth time. “Yes! There…so goo-oohhhh,” the last syllable turning into a loud moan. 

He’s holding her downwith a forearm by her pelvis, mouth full as he brings out her third orgasm of the night, juices flooding his tongue. 

He’s working out earlier frustrations and proving a point to himself in this fucked up version of self therapy. 

He shouldn’t be. 

But he does.

Has to.

Seeing you today with Cornelius spurred feelings within him that he didn’t know he had. Sure, there were bits and pieces of something stirring he refused to name, but today? 

They were in a whole different ballpark. Different than anything else he’s ever felt before, brewing inside him, bubbling up to the surface even though he’s been trying his best to pop them and shove them down.

Anger? 

Feelings he doesn’t want to have. 

Jealousy? 

Does have. 

Wanting you to look at him the way you look at Nel?

Can’t have. 

Not for… 

He admits he provoked Nel because he could. Dick move, but it was because Jungkook knew just by looking at him that giving you any form of attention would piss him off.  He seemed the type. 

Overly possessive, overprotective. 

Overbearingly so. 

Suffocatingly so. 

Because Nel knows how lucky he is. That you chose him. That you still choose him. 

He knows he has to keep others away. 

Knows he isn’t good enough for you, holds you back. But keeps you anyway.

The selfish prick. 

So Jungkook eyed you up and down, leisurely, and for as long as he wanted. Purely out of the need to prove to himself he was right about his little assessment of your boyfriend. At least that’s what he told himself. 

Was it childish and unnecessary? 

Yes. 

But he was right. And that felt good. 

He could see in your posture and your hushed words you didn’t want Nel’s protection, didn’t need it, and that Nel ignored that wish of yours. Did what he wanted to instead of respecting your ability to make decisions for yourself. Bulldozed your opinions. 

It pissed Jungkook off. 

He’d left a little while after sending you that text to read, but you never did. At least not since the last time he checked. And so he’d made plans with Adaline the second he was out of your earshot. Calling her up and setting a time for what’s currently taking up his primary focus. 

Because even though it was Adaline underneath him, for the very first time, that’s not who he imagined it was. 

Not who he just dragged a fourth orgasm out of with his fingers because he could. 

Because he would. He would be so much better. Give so much more. If only… 

Fuck.

Jungkook stands and drags his cock over Adaline’s entrance, whacking it against her clit a couple times before running the tip through her folds and pushing in. He hisses at the feeling. At who he was sinking into in his head, splayed out in front of him. Skin glistening with sweat mixed with arousal. Mouth open, slack jawed in pleasure. 

Adaline moans loudly and it dissolves his visual. 

His tattooed hand moves to hold her hands above her head, the other silences her mouth. 

“Quiet now,” he whispers, low and deep. A bead of sweat dripping off his brow, hair sticking to his neck and temple.

He intends it to be sexy for her, but in reality, he’s just sick of hearing her. It’s ruining his mental image. Not that she’ll ever know that though. 

To Adaline, this session is all about her and making her feel good. 

But constant screams and loud, pornographic moans aren’t appealing to him in the slightest. They're taking him out of the mood. Making him soft. 

Once or twice when it’s genuine? Sure. But the constant assault she loves to give his eardrums? Not even a little bit.

He sets a fast, rough pace, and Adaline’s eyes roll back in pleasure, screams finally subsiding in white hot bliss, replaced by bitten lips and smothered whimpers.

He is going to prove this point to himself over and over again. All night if he has to. 

And he has to.  

To get whatever it is he’s feeling for you out of his system.

To keep his sanity. 

To forget. 

And while it’s Adaline’s name is on his lips when he cums. 

It’s not the name he repeats in his head like a prayer. 

Chapter Seven: Hard Goodbyes and Favourite Colours

A/N 2: Thanks for waiting for this chapter. I'll try my best to have 7 out as soon as I can get it. I promise.

A/N 3: As always, Thank you for reading, loves. Xoxo - Yoon <3

<- Back

[kkami-writes]

hybrid hearts ━ chapter two. wc. 2.1k

It’s early morning when you wake up, the sun just starting to rise and rays of sunlight begin to peak in through the curtains. Your eyes flutter open, taking a few seconds to let your brain fully wake up. When you glance over to your left you’re not all that surprised to find a boy in your bed. Well, that’s only partly true as you didn’t know the gender of the ferret from yesterday but you knew that the boy next to you had indeed been the animal from yesterday. It wasn’t hard to tell, what with the small white ears on top of his head or the distinct beauty mark under his eye that had been visible in his domestic form.

Perhaps you should feel shocked or even mad that he had decided to sleep in your bed while as a human but you find yourself not really caring. Instead you’re rather happy that he had finally decided to show his face after keeping you in suspense yesterday, staying only in his ferret form.

So you take the moment to admire the rather pretty boy in your bed who has long black hair that reached down to his neck and plush pink lips. He looks so peaceful sleeping that you startle just a little when his eyes flutter open, directly looking at you.

“Like what you see?” The boy mutters, sleep thick in his throat as he brings a hand to rub away the sleep in his eyes. You’re caught off guard by his words but recover fairly quickly, raising an eyebrow at him.

“No, just simply wondering why there’s a strange boy in my bed,” He flushes softly at that, moving to cover himself with the covers and you just want to coo at how cute he is.

“Sorry. I just- I dunno. Wanted you to see me to make sure you really knew what you were getting into,” His voice is barely louder than a whisper.

You’re smiling to yourself as you come to pull the covers down just enough to see his pretty face again, eyes blinking up at you.

“What’s your name?”

“…Hyunjin,”

“Well Hyunjin, do you want some breakfast?”

“…yeah, okay,”

As you set the table for the two of you, a simple breakfast of eggs and toast, you see the boy yawn, noticing that his canines are definitely sharper than a normal humans, similar to that of his domestic form.

“You could have slept more, you know?” You say as you slip into your own seat, starting to eat. Hyunjin shakes his head, happily digging into the food you have provided, still feeling rather hungry even though he had indeed eaten the leftovers you had saved for him.

“It’s ok. I can take a nap later,”

The rest of breakfast is spent in silence, mostly due to Hyunjin being too busy stuffing his face. You take a glance at him, definitely noticing that he’s much skinnier than he probably should be, your casual shirt is baggier on him than it is on you. A frown falls on your face at that thought. How long had he been on the streets for?

Once Hyunjin has finished cleaning off his place he murmurs a quick thank you and it’s so soft you almost don’t even hear it. He starts to fidget in his seat a little, anxiety practically rolling off of him in waves as if unsure what to do.

“So. What’s your story? If you don’t mind me asking,” You break the slightly awkward silence between the two of you, though maybe your question wasn’t exactly the ice breaker you should start with.

Hyunjin just shrugs, as if it’s not a very interesting story. “Mm, I was a gift to a ten year old girl. Why they bought a hybrid for a little girl I’ll never know. They pretty much forbid me from being in my human form though so I was reduced to being just a ferret. I only ever got to stretch out my legs when no one was home. That was my life for a few years. Eventually she got bored of me, constantly forgetting to feed me or changing my water. After a while her parents got tired and surrendered me. But instead of doing it properly they just left me on the side of the road somewhere. I didn’t want to go back to a shelter so, I just decided that being a stray was probably better than getting adopted by someone only to be forgotten again,”

A frown tugs at your lips. People could be so cruel.

“So what do you want to do?” You ask simply but he tilts his head, both confusion and curiosity swimming in his eyes. “I mean do you want to stay here? Or you can leave of course. I’m not gonna make you to stay or anything,”

“Wait. You’d let me stay here?”

“Yeah, I don’t see why not? As you can tell I have plenty of room so it’s not really a bother,” Hyunjin blinks at you, as if not believing your words. “Again, it’s up to you. I’m not gonna force you into something that would make you feel uncomfortable or worse, trapped again,”

He seems to be rather deep in thought so you let him take the time to process your words. If you’re honest you hadn’t really stopped to think about your own words either, just spewing out what felt right. You had always been someone who went with the flow, to ‘trust the process’. Rarely did you ever look before you leaped. Yet this felt right. If Hyunjin chose to stay, it would be a decision you would never regret.

“So…you would adopt me if I stay?”

“Again, If you want. You could also be independent if you wanted, I’d still be happy to give you a room,”

“I just turned twenty though, I’m not eligible to apply for independence,” You shrug at this, moving to rest your chin in the palm of your hand.

“It’s up to you still, if it makes you uncomfortable I don’t have to adopt you,”

“But! You could get in trouble for having an unowned hybrid,” At this you grin, teeth almost glinting.

“That only makes it more fun, yeah?” Your tone is light so he can clearly see that you are just joking “Seriously, it’s up to you. Whatever will make you happy,” Hyunjin falls into another silence, eyebrows furrowed in thought. “Do you want to sleep on it? You don’t have to make a decision now,”

“No!” He startles you with how loud his voice is suddenly, causing him to flush at his own volume. “I mean- no, it’s ok. If…you’re ok with it, I’d be um. Happy if you adopted me. I wouldn’t want you to get in trouble because of me,”

“Then it’s settled. We can go to the shelter tomorrow to fill out paperwork, sound good?”

Hyunjin nods at this before getting up out of his seat, coming closer to you. You blink up at him, curious about what he was doing. Gently he takes your hand before bringing it up to his lips, pressing a soft kiss against your bandaged finger.

Your cheeks flush a bright red without your permission and you certainly don’t miss the way Hyunjin’s lips curl up just slightly into a smirk at your reaction.

“I’m sorry for biting you. Thank you. For letting me stay. Really,”

The adoption process is easy, thankfully. Since Hyunjin’s previous owners had abandoned him, it was as simple as signing a few papers. In the eyes of the law you were now Hyunjin’s rightful owner but, you had made it perfectly clear to the boy that you did not see yourself as that. He was an equal in your house and you would never treat him as anything less. That he was simply like a roommate to you.

Because of this the boy had insisted on getting a job, wanting to pay you rent or something in exchange for letting you stay with him. The two of you had argued back and forth on the subject, with you not wanting Hyunjin to feel like he owed you and Hyunjin not wanting to feel like a burden. In the end you agreed, only because of those stupid pretty sparkly eyes that stared at you as he begged. That and you felt like it was a good step towards him feeling like his own person, after all, you didn’t want the poor boy to be stuck home while you were off at work.

Yet a week passed by with no luck from Hyunjin’s end. You had come back home from work one day to find the boy at the dinner table, sitting in a chair as his upper body was sprawled across the surface. You had quickly learned that the ferret was rather dramatic, but he certainly added some much needed flair in your life.

You walked over to the boy, petting his head softly to which he nuzzled a little further into your hand. “No luck?”

Hyunjin groans. “No. Either they don’t hire hybrids or the salary just isn’t worth it,” He whines, cheek pressed to the table and a pout on his lips.

“I’m sure something will come along,” You hum out, moving around the kitchen to start on dinner. Hyunjin waddles up from behind you so he can circle his arms around your middle, resting his head on your shoulder. You had learned very quickly that he was very affectionate, something most hybrids had in common. It was the most common reason people adopted one, to have a companion, someone to make your life a little less lonely.

But it was also the main reason people abandoned their hybrids. Too clingy, too needy. If you were honest you were a bit touched starved yourself. Your last relationship had been a few years ago and even then your partners had made you feel bad about it, calling you similar words. So you certainly didn’t mind Hyunjin’s touchy nature.

“What if nothing comes?” Hyunjin’s voice is soft and there’s a twinge of disappointment in his tone A soft sigh falls from your lips before you move to turn in his embrace, letting your own arms wrap around his shoulders. You could tell how bad he wanted this, how much he wanted to feel independent, for his DNA to not be what defines him. He buries his face further into the crook of your neck.

It’s then that the idea pops in your head.

“Oh! Hyun!!!” He startles out of your arms for a second, ever the dramatic ferret with comedically large eyes. Though you suppose your voice was a little louder than usual. “Oops sorry, got a little excited,” You laugh while the boy continues to just blink at you. “Why don’t you just come work for me?”

“Huh?”

“Remember I told you I owned a book cafe? You should just come work there! I don’t know why I didn’t think about it sooner!!” At this, Hyunjin’s eyes sparkle for just a second before he’s frowning.

“But - doesn’t that defeat the purpose? You’d be paying me instead of me paying you for rent,” You frown, nose scrunching up as you try to think of a solution.

“Ok, what about this then. You come work for me and I pay you an actual wage,” Hyunjin opens his mouth to protest but you cut him off with a finger to his plush lips. “BUT. I’ll deduct rent” You say the words with finger quotations and he glares at you. “From your paycheck but still leave you enough that you can spend or save how ever you’d like,” Hyunjin still seems a little hesitant so you pull out your best pout and puppy dog eyes. The boy is practically putty in your hands. “I couuuuuld really use the help now that my seasonal employees have left after the winter season,”

He lets out a huff, seemingly annoyed but the small grin that’s blooming on his face easily gives him away.

“Ok, ok fine! But only because you seem like you reaaaaaaally need me,” his lips quirk into a smirk and you have to hold back from rolling his eyes. Of course he takes the opportunity to one up you.

“I do, I need you sooooooo bad hyunnie,” You’re not one to back down though, continuing your little game, batting your eyelashes for added effect. It seems that you win this round as his face turns a bright red, turning away to hide his flushed cheeks. Hyunjin lets out an embarrassed squeak before skittering off, yelling out to you to let him know when dinner is ready.

You laugh softly to yourself, going back to preparing a dinner for the two of you. Yeah, you think Hyunjin is going to make an excellent edition to your life. previous / masterlist / next full house taglist (50/50) ♪ send an ask or sign up here!: @the-sweetest-rose @heeseungsgf @chaotic-world-of-the-j @gemi-moon @liknws @satsuri3su @borahae-reads @minhwa @hyunestrella @soffieisme @slay-and-gay @inlovewithallmusic @bratty-tingz @foliea @skzhoes @strawberryepie  @0325tiny @royal-shinigami @soulphoenix1618 @scallywag1299 @bumbleellieskz @chocolate-scoups @loverlixie @orchid-mantis-petals @bbokari711 @zonked-times @rubberduckieyourtheone @bluesunshineflower @maliamaiden @everglowdaisies @im-lost-please-help @dreamerwasfound @the-simpy-simp @twistedsiren @beautifulcolorgarden @bangtanmix73 @alnex05 @strayzid @space-nerd1188 @poody1608 @lovestayforev @hanniemylovelyquokka @nykto-philia @yoonrimin @stayconnecteed @bbygrlhannie @minhoie @cutiespaghetti @abbiestearsricochet @ilychee08