#I’ll just shower them and try to get them in bed for half seven

[irish-belle]

My husband is going to work on a side job this evening and I’m being so brave about it

[ellephlox]

Obstinacy

Summary: You get sick and refuse to let Matt help you because you don’t want him to get sick, too — the question is, how long can you keep him away?

Pairing: Matt x fem!reader

Warnings: Some gross pneumonia descriptions, light swearing, nothing else!

A/N: So I’ve been away for awhile, and I’m really sorry about that. I’ve been trying to write my own book and I finished the second draft, so taking the time for fan fiction has been on the back burner lately. But of course with the RETURN OF OUR BELOVED KING on She-Hulk, I had to take the time to write something because IM STILL FREAKING OUT GUYS MATT IS BACK AND HES SO AMAZING AND HOT AND ALLSKJF LSDKFJLSKDJFLSDK

You felt the chest pain on your way home from work — the kind that arrived out of nowhere, as though it dropped from the sky into your lungs, and seriously made you wonder how colds were able to work that quickly. 

Of course, maybe it wasn’t a cold. You kept your hopes up as you cooked dinner, testing your chest a few times with a few large intakes of breath, but each time was the same result: a small tickle in the back, like a little voice saying, Hey, I’m here, and you’re going to be miserable for the next couple of days! 

Which really stunk, if you were being honest. It was getting towards mid-October and you were hoping to carve pumpkins with Matt or do some other corny autumn activity that every other normal couple did in the city. Not that you two weren’t normal. But other couples didn’t really have to contend with the whole I’ll-see-you-later-honey-after-I-beat-up-some-bad-guys-tonight, and you figured it must make movie nights a lot more frequent for most people than it did for you and Matt. That was another thing on your list, too — watching a horror movie to get into the Halloween spirit. 

“I’m not into horror movies,” Matt had said when you’d pitched the idea to him. “Audio commentary kind of kills the whole scary aspect.”

“Then you’re watching the wrong movies. I don’t mean movies with gallons of blood and cheap jump scares. I mean psychological horrors, the kinds that make you stay awake at night because they’re that freaky. We’re doing it, Murdock, whether you want to or not.”

Whether you want to or not, however, didn’t include the extenuating circumstances of getting sick.

It took longer than usual to get up the stairs to your apartment. You felt so drained that you wouldn’t have minded showering and then crashing into bed, if you weren’t hungry. The wind rattled at your windows as you cooked a big pot of rice, enough to last the next few days. You’d bought fixings yesterday to make a homemade curry with it, but one look at your pantry and you scrapped those plans in exchange for half a jar of pesto with a dubious expiration date on it. Matt wasn’t supposed to be over until after seven in the evening, thanks to the unforgiving hours of lawyering, but you called him as you stirred the pesto in with the rice. 

“I was wondering when you’d call,” he said. His voice was lighthearted. 

“Hi,” you said, as casually as possible. “How was your day?”

“I officially reduced the pile of paperwork on my desk from ten inches high to eight inches high, so I’d call it a success. You at your place?”

“Yeah. Hey, I wanted to let you know that I think I’m coming down with something, so maybe you should stay at your own place tonight.” Before Matt could ask, you added, “I’m fine. Just one of the colds that’s going around. But I’d feel horrible if you got it.”

“What about the pumpkins?”

“Pumpkins can wait. I haven’t even bought them yet.”

“Oh.” He sounded disappointed, and your stomach flipped. What a way to boost my self-esteem that he actually likes me. “How about we just don’t share sodas, then?”

You frowned. “Last time this happened, I told you to stay away from me and then you just ended up kissing me. The next day, lo and behold, you started coughing. So, no. Not happening.”

“You kissed me, if I remember correctly.”

“Excuse me? What kind of a lawyer are you? That’s gaslighting, sir.”

He continued, ignoring you. “Maybe I’ll just hear some suspicious noises coming from your apartment tonight. And then I’ll have to investigate, because it’s my civic duty as the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen. And when I see a beautiful girl, sitting on the couch and pathetically eating rice and pesto alone, I’ll just have to join her. Accidentally, of course.”

“What I’m interpreting from that is that you go cuddle up with any girl that you find eating alone in her apartment.”

“What I’m interpreting is that Matt says he’s doing all these dangerous things at night but really he’s just chilling out while enjoying the lavish praise of being a local superhero,” Foggy said, his voice distant in the background. 

You snorted. “Am I on speakerphone?”

“No,” Foggy answered, sounding far too cheerful for someone working far beyond sunset. “Matt just keeps his phone volume weirdly high for someone who supposedly has super-hearing.”

“I do have super-hearing, Foggy.”

“Then how are you not shattering your eardrums? Between your phone volume and crashing at girls’ apartments to eat rice and pesto, I’m really doubting this whole Daredevil façade,” Foggy said. 

“Anyway,” Matt cut in, “I’ll pop in tonight, just to bring over some food and meds. Do you want anything specific?”

“Matt, really. I don’t want you catching this. And it’s late, you should get home and actually get some sleep for once. I’m fine, it just feels like a cold.” You would have elaborated, but your chest decided to seize at that moment, and you had to trail off quickly before it became apparent in your voice. 

He sort of listened to you that night. He had swung by (through the window? Or with the spare key you’d given him? There was no way to know) and dropped off food, but it was while you were asleep, and it looked as though he’d only gone into the kitchen then left. 

You’d only found the food when you wandered in blearily at three in the morning, sweating and freezing at the same time. There was no point for the thermometer; a fever was obvious and you didn’t particularly care what the number was. The cough was worse, though. It made it hard to fall back asleep — every few seconds you’d feel as though your lungs were spasming, and the back of your throat felt as though it had been bitten by fire ants. 

Sirens rang in the distance. You hoped it wasn’t for something Matt was involved in; not because you didn’t trust him to handle it, but because it was three in the morning and you’d kick his ass if he wasn’t sleeping at this point. 

Then the headache hit you. Maybe you wouldn’t be kicking his ass anytime soon. 

The pressure was enough to make you stumble into the counter as you rummaged for a glass of water. Everything about your arms felt off, as though your muscles had been crushed into powder, and you misjudged your grasp on the glass. It fell, crashing to the floor and skating outwards like a nebula of knives. Automatically you reached for the paper towels, and in your haze you stepped forward. 

Barefooted. 

Glass crunched under your foot and you swore, not at the pain but at your own stupidity. It took another half an hour to bandage up the bottom of your foot and at that point you were too exhausted to finish cleaning up the glass. 

When you woke up next, sun was filtering through your curtains and your mouth was as dry as though you’d swallowed ten cotton swabs. Dazed, you picked up your phone, and squinted at the notifications; one missed call from Matt and a followup text. Quickly you sent him an I’m okay message and then fell back onto your pillow. 

The fever felt worse. Goosebumps ran up and down your legs, but you were simultaneously sweaty under your sheets, so you threw them off to go shower. Only then did you remember the glass you’d stepped on because your foot protested angrily as soon as you placed it onto the carpet. 

Hopping was the only option remaining, and that expended just about every ounce of energy you’d garnered while sleeping, so that you just about collapsed against the bathroom wall, wheezing, by the time you’d made it. And of course that was when your phone rang, so you hopped back to your room, and barely made it in time before it went to voicemail. 

“Hello?” you croaked. 

“That’s all I need to hear. I’m coming over.”

“I... what?”

“Yeah. You sound terrible, Y/N.” Matt’s voice was overly concerned, and you didn’t like it at all; you could practically feel the pity coming off of him. At least, it felt like pity. And that wasn’t what you wanted. 

“Matt, not only will I personally make you rue the day that you step foot in here while I’m sick, but—” You broke off, coughing, and wincing at the same time because you could imagine Matt’s expression on the other end.

“I don’t like talking to you over the phone,” he said in a low voice. “I hate not hearing your heartbeat, hearing your lungs, feeling your temperature. You’re being overruled. I’m coming.”

“Don’t you have to be at the court today?”

“Not until ten.”

Defeated, you flung the phone on the other side of the room. That conversation sucked out everything you had, and you gave up on the idea of taking a shower. The bed looked much more comfortable. It didn’t help that your breaths were getting alarmingly short, and it was difficult to draw in anything more than a quick inhale. Your eyes were closed for about five seconds before they popped back open. 

Matt was coming. Damn it, damn it, damn it. You went to the windows and locked them all, then crossed to the front door. He had a spare key, but you also had a bolt, and you slid it across, feeling somewhat proud of yourself for having made the trek to the entryway. The bar is very, very low at this point. 

You’d run a marathon right now before letting Matt get anywhere near you. That resolve was the only thing penetrating the fog around your head, and you double-checked the windows again. It wasn’t as though he’d be leaping and climbing up to them, anyway; he was coming from the office, and would therefore be in his lawyer suit. With the number of people down on the streets and the broad daylight, Matt would be hard-pressed to make it up to your fire escape without the newspaper headline being BLIND ACROBAT BREAKING AND ENTERING IN HELL’S KITCHEN the next day. 

Sure enough, ten minutes later Matt was outside your door, and his sharp rap on the door did nothing to make you move. You sat at the counter, sipping on some water, and shook your head. “Nope. Not happening.”

“Y/N, I can hear the crackling in your lungs,” he said, his patience more intact than you would have expected. He thinks he’s going to win.

“My lungs aren’t crackling. They’re just... not feeling so hot.” Now overly-conscious of your breathing, you tried to make your breaths smoother and less obviously sick. 

There was a pause on the other side of the door. “You’ve got too fast of a heartbeat. Unlock the bolt or I’ll kick the door down.”

“Yeah, my heart’s racing, because there’s a man threatening to kick my door down,” you said, and feeling inspired, you clicked the on button of the remote next to you. The television flashed to life, showing the weather report, and you turned the volume up. Take that, Matt. “See? No more lung crackling or racing heartbeats.”

The only issue was that now you could hardly hear him. You barely made out his next sentence, it was so faint on the other side of the door. “I can still hear both, you know,” he said, muffled. “You know how many televisions there are in the average block of apartments that I have to filter out every single night?”

“Shit.” You shut the television off. “Listen away, then. It’s not going to change anything because I’m not letting you in.” 

“I wasn’t kidding about kicking the door down.”

"And I’m not kidding about not letting you in. Plus, you’d have some tough questions to answer when my neighbors report you for kicking down my door, Devil Man.”

“Why won’t you accept help when you need it? You really need a doctor.”

“Hypocrite,” you said under your breath, relishing the fact that he could hear you.

“I can hear you.” Just as you’d expected. “And what I do is irrelevant to the fact that you’re currently sitting in your apartment with what’s probably pneumonia.”

“Oh, it’s not pneumonia,” you said dismissively, though you felt awful enough that he was probably right. At least, your lungs seemed to concur with that diagnosis, and as if to verbally agree with him you coughed, wheezing and choking for air.  

“If I didn’t have to be at the court in half an hour, I’d go home and get into the suit just to have an excuse to come through your window right now.” Matt was pissed, that was for sure. There was a dangerous undertone to his voice, softened only by that ever-present concern in what he was saying. 

“I know, Matt.” You rolled your eyes. “It’s a lost cause, alright? Tomorrow I’ll be feeling a lot better and then maybe — maybe — I’ll let you come in. And that’s if we keep all the windows open for fresh air and—”

“Why do I smell your blood?”

You glanced down at your foot. Traitor. It had stopped bleeding ages ago, but you should’ve changed the bandage again one more time before Matt showed up. “I’m... doing acupuncture. On myself.”

“Y/N.”

“Fine. I made a blood oath and pricked my thumb to assure myself that I will never, ever let you catch a sickness from me.”

“In ten seconds this door is coming down unless you tell me. And if you could hear my heartbeat, you’d know I’m not lying.”

“Fine! I just stepped on some glass, okay? But my foot is fine, it’s seen worse days. I mean, you should’ve seen that time that I got a pedicure and the lady told me my heels were the most cracked she’d seen in a long time.” You were rambling, and that wasn’t a good idea, because it made you lose your breath and then you were gasping for air. 

After another five minutes of arguing that ended only when you swore to call the doctor if you got any worse, he left, grumbling that Foggy would kill both of you if he was late for court, and that was the only reason he was giving up — “temporarily”. 

Only when it was too late did you realize that was a mistake, and that you should have let him help.  

It was past two in the afternoon when you woke up from a nap, and every muscle in your body felt as though it were frozen. You were trembling slightly from the cold, but couldn’t muster the energy to even sit up and grab the blanket at the foot of your bed. It was difficult to swallow, and you clutched at your throat, certain that someone must be standing over you and clasping their hands around your neck, but there was no one there. 

“Matt,” you whispered, expecting him to be there, or to hear you, but there was no one. Taking slow breaths, you tried to calm down on your own. One, two, three. One, two, three. All you could manage were short, raspy breaths that hardly got enough air, and your head pounded. Blindly you reached out for your glass of water, and nearly dropped it again, your hands were shaking so much. The feeling of your lips against the rim was like pressing a dried sponge to the edge of a bowl and the water tasted sour in your mouth. 

And then you tried swallowing. It was as though someone had blocked up your throat, because you couldn’t swallow, and you gasped, heart racing as panic flooded through you; for a moment you couldn’t breathe and then you finally coughed up the water, chest heaving from the sharpness of each cough. You grabbed a tissue, hacking into it for at least another thirty seconds, and finally a glob of mucus came up and your airway cleared up just enough that you could breathe a bit more. 

You almost tossed the tissue to the floor without looking at it, but a flash of red caught your eye. 

Blood. In the mucus. 

That was the tipping point for you. Didn’t people die shortly after coughing up blood in the movies? That was how it went. A character coughs, looks into their hand, and then resignedly tucks it away without the other characters seeing. It was like the knoll of death, ringing in your ears. 

You hardly knew what you were doing as you dialed Matt’s number, not even thinking about what you were tapping into your phone but allowing muscle memory to guide you. 

“Hello?” He picked up almost immediately. 

“Matt—” You started to speak his name, but halted; it was too painful. Dropping your voice to a whisper, you started over. “Matt, I think I need you here.”

“What? What is it?” 

“I’m—” You glanced down at the tissue. Literally dying here? That was a surefire way to make Matt have a heart attack. “I’m not doing so well. I might take you up on your offer to help.”

He didn’t hesitate. “I’ll be over in five minutes. Did you call the doctor already?”

“No.” The thought of calling the doctor was exhausting on its own. 

Matt seemed to notice that. “I’ll call,” he assured you. “Can you breathe alright?”

“Not really.” Tears were spiking in your eyes and you brushed them away. “I just coughed and... there was some blood in it.” You wheezed for breath, the drawing in of air rattling everything inside of you and getting caught at the top of your throat.

“I’m taking you to a hospital.”

“But—”

“No, sweetheart. You need a real doctor. I’ll be over in a minute.”

Somehow you must have fallen asleep again, because Matt was lifting you from the bed and you wrapped your arms around him. “Can’t breathe,” you whispered, gasping for breath. 

“I know. I can hear your lungs,” Matt said, voice strained. “I’ve got a cab waiting on the street. Can you walk or do you need me to carry you?”

“I... I can walk.” You slung an arm around him and made your way slowly out of the room, limping with every step on your bandaged foot. Matt, to his credit, allowed you to do what you could. His tie was loosened and his suit jacket was gone, but he still wore a button-down, tucked into his pants. 

“Bet you won your case, then,” you whispered, hardly even aware of what was coming out of your mouth. “No one can... say no to this.”

“This?”

“Hm. This.” You meant to nod up and down at Matt, but it came across as more of a head shake. “You.”

And then your assertion that you could walk proved difficult to fulfill, so you redirected your efforts to not face-planting in your living room, despite the strong, steady hands Matt kept on you the entire time. Once you reached your stairs he took over for the most part; your feet were hardly touching the ground with the amount of support he was giving. 

That was where your memory cut out. You must have passed out, because the next time you opened your eyes, it was in the hospital bed, and Matt was reading next to you, his long gaze fixed on the wall in front of him as his fingers danced over the text. 

“Hi,” you whispered lamely. Everything about you was groggy and it was hard enough just to focus on him. 

Him. Only he could look handsome in a hospital. At some point he’d exchanged the suit for a tee shirt and sweats, and his hair stuck out at every angle possible. You wondered vaguely if he’d come from Fogwell’s. 

He set the book down, relief evident on his face. “Hey, sweetie. How are you doing?”

You ignored his question. “How do you always manage to look good?”

He nudged you. “I should be the one asking you that.”

“That’s... the biggest lie I’ve ever heard. Even if you weren’t blind, it’d be a lie.” You closed your eyes, then opened them again. The ceiling was too white. “What happened?”

"Aspiration pneumonia.”

“Hm?”

“You have aspiration pneumonia,” he said. “Which just happens to be a type of pneumonia that’s not contagious.”

You meditated on this. “So?”

“So you could’ve let me into your apartment, that whole time,” he said, looking distinctly indignant, and it was enough to make you laugh. The laugh was short-lived, because it quickly transformed into a wracking cough that made your entire chest throb, but Matt was on his feet in an instant, holding your hand.

Only when the coughing stopped did you remember the bolt on your door. “Matt?”

“Yeah?”

“How’d you get in?”

“Broke down the door, like I promised.”

“Are... are you serious? What about the neighbors?”

He laughed. “You know, breaking down a door isn’t incriminating evidence that I’m Daredevil. I told them you were having an emergency, and when they saw you, they believed me.”

“They saw me?” You didn’t remember an audience when Matt was helping you out of the apartment.

“Well, you were taking your sweet time on the stairs, and coughing loudly enough for anyone in a mile radius to hear you, so yeah, they wanted to see what was happening.”

You buried your face in your hands. “That’s just great. And now, what, is my apartment wide open for anyone to go in?”

“No, I called in a favor with Foggy, and he’s hanging out there until someone can come in and fix it.”

“Even better. Now I’m indebted to Foggy.”

Matt smiled coyly. “Oh, and I should mention—”

“Oh, no. What?”

“—that there’s something else you’ll love about all of this.”

“Stop smiling like that. Why are you smiling like that?”

“Aspiration pneumonia is commonly associated with the institutionalized elderly. In other words, it’s a nursing home problem.”

“A nursing home problem?”

“A nursing home problem,” he confirmed. “I was thinking that maybe for your next birthday I could get you fitted for dentures.”

“Hilarious. Really, so funny. You really should have been a comedian. I swear to you that the next time you get sick, I’m going to make fun of you and you’ll never hear the end of it. Got it?”

He grinned and squeezed your hand. “Murdocks don’t get sick.”

“That is the second biggest lie I’ve ever heard. I seem to recall that time you projectile-vomited off of the Ferris wheel.”

“Because I was motion-sick, not sick-sick.”

Your eyelids were already getting heavy just from the five-minute conversation. You beckoned him closer and leaned onto his shoulder, pressing yourself into his warmth. He smelled like fresh deodorant and coffee. “Pumpkin carving as soon as I can leave?”

“Definitely,” he said, placing your fingers onto the pulse that drummed under his wrist. “And this time, I’m not lying.”

[daddy-dins-girl]

Playdate - Chapter Seven

Main Masterlist Series Masterlist

AO3 link

pairing: Marcus Pike x f! Reader x Dave York

Word Count: 5.2k

Notes: I am posting TWO new chapters back-to-back (7 & 8) as they take place at the same time but from multiple POV's. I'd recommend reading chapter 8 as soon as you can after this one, so its fresh in your brain ;)

Chapter Warnings (minor spoilers in the tags...): 18+ MDNI. Soft!Dave York (like, you can't even stand it. Soft Dave needs his own warning). Porn WITH plot (who gave me the right?). All the feelings (I'm sorry). Unprotected P in V. Creampie. Angst! (in MY porn story? who am I?). Infidelity-ish I guess, technically (look these are just 3 idiots in love who don't know what tf they're doing, okay?). Plus probably ever other tag from previous chapters... you know the drill by now for this series.

MASSIVE thank you for @janaispunk for beta'ing and being my sounding board. I really appreciate all your help!

Page dividers by the generous and talented @saradika-graphics

You power nap through the rest of the afternoon and into the early evening, thanks to the blackout curtains drawn shut but mostly in large part due to the strenuous activities the three of you had gotten up to just before you’d passed out. You remember your eyes closing involuntarily as you lay half draped over Dave, Marcus snuggled into your back and his own breaths began to even out just as yours did.

Soft lips pressed to your forehead and a light hand brushing over your hair causes you to stir some time later and you wake feeling rested, a satisfied smile playing at your lips as you rouse to consciousness.

“Hi Baby” you murmur into your pillow. You don’t even need to open your eyes to know it’s your husband.

He presses a kiss to your forehead once more and breathes out a whispered “I’m sorry” that makes whatever peacefulness you were reveling in vanish in an instant.

His words are enough to get your eyes to fully open. You stare up at him, brow furrowed in confusion as to what on earth he could possibly have to be sorry about and when your gaze sets on him he’s seated next to you on the side of the bed and looking far too overly dressed in tan khakis and a black polo shirt, the expression on his handsome features substantiating his remorse.

“Where are you going?” You ask, concern laced in your tone as you push yourself up into a seated position. Maybe you all are just going out for a late dinner or something and he was apologizing for having to wake you up from your nap for it, but the frown of his face quickly dispels that theory.

He lets out a sigh and hangs his head slightly. It’s then you notice his hair is wet so he must’ve just gotten out of the shower. “Something came up, at work. An emergency” he clarifies, gaze still fixed to the comforter he’s sitting on rather than looking at you. “Cab’s downstairs already.”

“You have to go?!” You ask, incredulous. Your voice raises maybe a little higher than you should’ve let it, but you were rightly shocked that your husband has to leave you now, on your birthday no less.

“Where are you going?” Dave’s voice immediately floods into the room and you look up to see him wandering into the bedroom, towel around his hips and another around his neck that he’s using to dry his hair.

He must’ve showered just after Marcus, you presume.

“Uh work. Last minute thing just… came up. I um, I’ll try not to be long” Marcus continues, turning back towards you for the last part.

“There’s no one else?” You try, sounding a little pouty, you know, but you really don’t want him to go.

He sighs, taking your hands in his and bringing them up to place a kiss to your knuckles before whispering another “I’m sorry” against them.

“But look why don’t you order dinner, or go downstairs for it even, just have it all billed back to the room and I’ll take care of it later, ok?”

“Ok…” you sigh, eyes cast downward. You feel silly for feeling so emotional, he’s literally spent the last 24 hours at your side giving you the best birthday you’ve ever had and you’re still near tears just because he has to leave you. Marcus has a very important job and you know these things come up from time to time. He’s been dragged away from anniversaries, birthdays, even your cousin's wedding on one occasion but it all came with the territory of being married to a senior Federal Agent and you knew that and had accepted it long ago so you just offer a small nod of your head, unable to bring yourself to look at him right now. You don’t want to make him feel more guilty than he likely already does by seeing the disappointment that’s surely written across your features.

Dave is oddly quiet, too. Still hanging back at the doorway leading into the bedroom you presume as you haven’t heard him moving around. With a sigh Marcus leans down and presses a kiss to the crown of your head and puts a comforting hand on your shoulder before pushing himself up and off the bed. “I’ll call” he promises. You nod again, forcing a smile to your lips as you finally raise your head to look up at him.

“Hurry back” you playfully scold, reaching a hand out to lightly smack his hip with the back of your hand and he chuckles.

“Happy Birthday Babe” he tells you once more before reaching for your hand and giving it a small squeeze. He sighs, settles his shoulders, drops your hand and finally turns away from you. You sit up in bed and watch as he crosses the room until he reaches the doorway where Dave is still standing there in a towel.

“I’ll um... Yeah, I’ll see ya” is all Marcus offers to him before brushing past him. A few seconds go by and you hear the front door of the room open and then click shut.

Well… now what?

“Are you um… are you hungry?” You ask Dave, suddenly feeling awkward as you bunch the sheet up a little higher under your armpits to ensure you stay covered up. “We could order something again, or even go down to the restaurant to eat if you wanna get out of this room” you shrug.

The room feels suddenly too small for the two of you. Like you shouldn’t be in such close proximity to each other without Marcus present (especially not in the state of undress you’re both in). It’s not that you feel uncomfortable around Dave, more like the opposite, and therein lies your problem. Dave makes you feel… a lot. But discomfort is not one of those feelings. The only thing uncomfortable about being around Dave is probably how comfortable you feel around him now. Like you could just walk across the room to him right now and throw your arms around his shoulders and kiss him like it’s a habit.

But you can’t. Of course you can’t. Marcus didn’t explicitly implore you not to, but he also didn’t outright give his blessing either. It feels wrong without Marcus here and you think both you and Dave can feel it, the way the energy shifted in the room the moment your husband stepped out of it. You have been alone with Dave before of course, but only once, and with your husband's enthusiastic permission. Insistence, even. Now there’s a sexual tension hanging in the air that makes this massive suite feel suffocating.

Finally after what feels like a moment dragged on far too long, Dave answers. “Should probably get going, right?” he shrugs his shoulders, voicing aloud what you’re both thinking.

You don’t want him to leave. Of course you don’t. But you both know he needs to.

“Yeah, right” your gaze is cast downwards again as your fingers pick at a loose thread in the soft sheet covering you. You suck in a breath, willing for no tears to fall to your cheeks as you begin to feel overwhelmed with loss, with what your evening had become versus what you had managed to conjure it up to be in your fantasies while you were falling asleep just hours earlier.

You had thoughts. A lot of thoughts. Especially after what had inspired earlier, you were ready and willing to experience a lot more of that and you’d told yourself you were going to be brave and honest and adult about it and tell them both exactly what you wanted, but now here you were about to be left alone in this hotel room. Maybe you’d just pack everything up and go home, text Marcus and let him know to meet you back there after work. You didn’t want to sit around this giant reminder of what you were missing out on tonight.

You remain seated in the bed, back against the headboard and arms wrapped around your legs that are bent at the knees in front of you, hugging yourself as Dave wanders around the bedroom getting dressed in fresh clothes and cleaning up all of his belongings, stuffing them back into his overnight bag. You glance at him occasionally as he busies himself packing, eventually moving out of the bedroom and throughout the rest of the suite to gather what’s left.

“Think that’s it” he sighs as he re-enters the bedroom a minute or so later and takes one final glance around to ensure he hasn’t forgotten anything.

“I’ll walk you out” you say, suddenly remembering your manners and Dave manages a small chuckle but ultimately holds up his hand in dismissal.

“Don’t need to get up on my account, I’ll see myself out”

You nod your head, a murmured “ok” leaving your lips as you wrap your arms back around your knees again.

Dave crosses the room over to your side, hesitation in his steps until he finally reaches you. He leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead and then smiles softly as he pulls away. “Happy Birthday” he tells you. “Hope it was a good one” he adds with a playful wink and your lips instantly spread into a grin across your face, despite your less than happy mood.

“Best one yet” you promise him. It was the truth, after all.

“Goodnight” he finally says, after a long drawn out silence stretches between you and he turns on his heel, exiting the bedroom. A moment later you hear the main door exiting the room open and shut again and just like that, he’s gone, and you’re alone.

Your head falls back down to your knees and you gently shake it back and forth, willing yourself to be strong and not break down to tears like you want to. It was silly, really, but dammit if it didn’t hurt all the same.

With a huff into the empty room you decide you’re not just going to lie there feeling sorry for yourself all night. You’re going to get up, clean up and start packing to meet Marcus back at home like you had thought about earlier. It was too sad sitting in this gorgeous suite all alone, watching a clock or your phone waiting on your husband to return. You get up and throw on one of Marcus’ t-shirts and a fresh pair of panties, quickly use the bathroom and brush your teeth and then begin to wander about the room, picking up clothes and toiletries and any other of yours or Marcus’ belongings and start packing them into the small suitcase. Once everything is packed you take a look around the suite and realize what a disaster you’ve all made. Between dirty dishes, empty coffee cups, liquor and champagne bottles, and a haphazardly made bed, you decide to tidy up a bit as well before you leave. You know that’s Housekeeping's job but you don’t think you could live with yourself knowing you left a room in the state this one was in so you begin about tossing away trash, collecting empty bottles to line them up on the small counter top and fixing up the bed at least halfway decently. The “do not disturb” sign had been stationary on the outside of the suite door handle since your arrival last night so no cleaning staff had bothered to come by and you couldn’t in good conscience leave the room the way it was.

You stand in the middle of the living room and take a final glance around, satisfied with how you’re leaving things now and go to turn back to the bedroom to get dressed and collect your suitcase when there’s a sudden knock at the door. Your brow furrows at who it could be but you head over to pull it open away, thinking maybe your husband had decided to take the liberty to order dinner for you, rightfully assuming you would skip it all together had it been solely up to you.

You reach the door and pull it open, ready to let whoever is on the opposite side of the door know that you won’t be staying to eat but the words die on your tongue as it swings open and reveals what - or rather who - waits on the other side.

“Hi” you breathe, voice barely above a whisper.

“Hi” he murmurs back, eyes boring into yours.

With one large hand planted against the door frame, Dave looms over you as a dead silence stretches on between you. You know what he’s waiting for. He’s waiting for you to tell him to leave, that he shouldn’t be here. He still has his duffel in his other hand which means he didn’t even make it to his car. From the close proximity you can smell the alcohol on his breath, maybe he only made it as far as the hotel bar and convinced himself to turn right back around.

Either way, you know you just don’t have it in you to turn him away. He knows it, too. Despite not even knowing you very long, he’s always been able to read you like a book.

There’s always been a pull between the two of you, a magnetic attraction. But over the past couple of visits, and certainly over the last 24 hours, something has shifted. You’d felt it, and given the way Dave was looking at you now, you know he did too.

Dave is first to break the silence with a whispered “fuck” before he pushes his way fully inside. Duffel dropped to the floor just inside the entryway, his left arm wraps around your waist and lifts you easily as his other hastily slams the door shut before joining the other to secure you to his body. Your legs wrap around him and both his hands grab hold at your ass while yours wrap around his neck and your lips meet in a heated frenzy as Dave carries you further inside.

“Where?” Dave mumbles against your lips between kisses, halfway across the living room by now.

“Bed. Take me to bed” you answer easily. You don’t want a quick fuck on the couch or against a wall. There’s a yearning inside of you that can’t be fully satisfied unless you do this right. Dave hums his approval into your mouth, passing by the couch and into the next room until he reaches the foot of the bed and he stops to let you down, your body slowly sliding down his front until your bare feet hit the floor. Your arms remain around his neck, his at your waist and he looks down at you, forehead resting against yours, holding your gaze for several long seconds.

“Thought you left” you manage to say, voice barely above a whisper.

“Me too,” he admits. Your breaths mingle in the limited space between you, the temperature in the room suddenly stifling. Dave can feel the way your body slightly trembles in his arms, just as you can easily read the longing in his gaze. You want this. You both do.

“Tell me to go” he tries, voice so low and soft it’s barely discernible, his eyes falling shut and thumbs absently rubbing back and forth at your hips.

“Can’t” you answer simply. He knows it’s the truth.

“Then tell me to stay” he tries instead, eyes opening again to search yours, needing your consent, your affirmation that you feel this too, whatever is inside of him. He needs to know that you need him as much in this moment as he needs you. That you’re willing to cross this line with him.

You don’t answer him with words. You can’t. Instead you lower one arm down to take his hand into yours and you lead him around the bed, turning once you reach the head of it and dropping his hand to bring both of yours to the waistband of his jeans, slowly popping each one of the buttons of his 501’s until they’re fully open and you’re able to push the denim down his hips. He helps you free him from the confines of his jeans until they’re bunched at the floor and he quickly toes out of his shoes before kicking his pants the rest of the way off. His t-shirt goes next as he reaches behind him and drags it up and over his torso, quickly tossing it aside before both his hands come down to cradle your face and he stands before you in only his boxer briefs.

Words still unspoken, your hands come up to splay across his chest and give him a gentle guiding push. He follows your lead, sinking down onto the mattress and gets seated with his back against the headboard, bringing his legs up to stretch out in front of him as you carefully crawl on top of him, one knee bent on either side of his hips as you straddle his lap and then lower your forehead to rest against his, bringing a hand down to gently caress against his cheek.

Dave lets out a desperate little groan before pressing forward enough so he can capture your mouth. He kisses you slow and deep, moaning into you when your lips part and his tongue brushes yours. It’s not the bruising, desperate and rushed kisses you’re used to from Dave. It’s soft and romantic and decidedly intimate.

His right hand trails up your side under the oversized t-shirt and cups a bare breast before deft fingers begin to play with your nipple, gently pinching and rolling it between the pads of his fingers while your back arches into his touch, desperate for more. He takes the hint and pulls you back just enough so he can tug the t-shirt up and over your head, tossing it carelessly to the floor before pulling you closer once more. His mouth trails downwards, placing hot open-mouthed kisses to your jaw, down the column of your throat, your collarbone, and finally finding purchase on your other breast, mouthing over the pert bud before gently sucking it into his mouth.

You moan at his actions, hands coming to card through his hair, gently scraping his scalp with your fingernails.

“God you make me feel so good” you pant and he moans his appreciation for your praise into your heated flesh. “So good to me, baby.”

He continues to kiss and lick and suckle at your breasts, paying each one equal attention and his hand pleasuring whichever one his mouth isn’t currently fastened to and you arch further into him, head thrown back and allowing your hips to grind against his groin. He’s growing hard underneath you, you can feel him swell and begin to strain against the tight fabric of his underwear as you take your own pleasure from him, reveling in the friction created between your legs with each slow drag of his hardening length between your cotton covered core.

“God, fuck!” You whine, swearing you could come from this alone. Dave groans into your breasts, hands coming to take hold at your hips and help guide your movements to grind down further into him.

“You’re so goddamn beautiful” Dave lets out, breathless as you rock on top of him, your body on full display as you take out your pleasure on him with each downward press of your pelvis into his. “My perfect girl” he praises before surging upwards to capture your mouth with his once more, tongues entwining immediately into that all too familiar dance now as he wraps a strong arm around your waist and easily flips you both until you’re underneath him, his body weight gently pressing you deeper into the mattress as he kisses you until you’re both left breathless.

He’s cradled deliciously right between your legs as you lay on your back with your knees bent and raised in the air to accommodate him as he slowly continues to grind against you and before long it gets to be simultaneously too much, yet not enough and you reach down, desperately shoving at the soft material of his boxers to get them off. He laughs against your lips between kisses but quickly obliges your silent request, aiding you in pulling them all the way down before he can kick them away and then slowly he lowers himself down the length of your body, pausing to kiss and lick and nip at whatever piece of flesh he finds along his descent until he’s up on his elbows with his face hovering right above your core.

“Dave, fuck” you whine, hand instinctively reaching out to push through his hair.

Dave however seems intent on driving you to the brink of your sanity as he places a soft kiss to your still covered mound, then gently rubs his nose through the seam of your folds and finally sticks his tongue out to lap a few times at your panties, creating enough of a wet spot between his saliva and your own arousal that it nearly feels like there’s no barrier between you at all, your white panties surely transparent by now.

“Please, please, please.” It’s barely above a whisper. A pathetic whine, really, the way you beg for him. Need him.

He turns his head, placing little kisses at your thighs and hips until finally his hands go to the elastic waistband of your panties and he slowly peels them down your legs until you’re finally rid of them and he tosses them to the floor before crawling back up your body and capturing your lips in a searing kiss, swallowing down each one of your moans with his mouth.

“I need you” you confess, breathless and writhing under the solid weight of him.

Dave groans, pulling his lips away from your mouth to nuzzle into your throat instead where he voices his own desperation “need you too. Fuck I need you”.

You moan at his admission, reaching to grab for his face to bring it back to yours but he diverts slightly downwards, bringing the attention of his mouth back to your breasts. He takes one into his mouth while his right hand gropes the other, massaging and kneading the flesh under his large grasp before delicately taking your pebbled nipple between his fingers to pinch and tweak at it until you’re writhing into his touch all over again.

Dave always made sure to prepare you for him, but never had the two of you taken so much time for just foreplay and you feel like you’ve been on the edge of an orgasm for an eternity by now. You’re used to Dave taking you hard and fast but tonight he seems perfectly content on taking his time to unravel you until you’re nothing but putty in his hands, desperate for him to carve you out and mold you into his body however he sees fit.

Before long his free hand drifts down your side and goes between your legs and when he feels how absolutely soaked and ready you are he lets out a little growl of need and for a moment you’re certain the Dave you’re used to is about to take over. He’s going to toss you around until you’re in the position he wants and drive his cock into you so hard and fast that you forget your own name and can only scream out his.

But you wait, and it doesn’t happen. He continues to gently kiss, lick and play with your breasts while his other hand presses into your folds, slides down to plunge two fingers inside of you and raises his thumb to circle your clit. Your hands become lost in his hair, desperate for anything to hold onto as you grind yourself into his hand, panting, moaning and whispering little bits of praise at how well he takes care of you and Dave is absolutely eating it up. With every little adoration that slips past your lips he moans or whimpers into your skin, eager for your praise and eager to please you and it’s night and day to the Dave you’re used to that tells you to stay still and take what he has to give you.

A third finger joins the first two as he slowly strokes your walls, curling them at just the right spot deep inside of you that has you mewling and whimpering under his delicate touch. They drag in and out of your core at a slow but precise pace as he works you open, his mouth never faltering from pleasuring your breasts while his hand drives you to the brink of sanity. He knows your body well enough by now that he can sense when you’re getting close and he amps up his pace, fingers gliding in and out of your wet heat easily with renewed vigor as the lewd sounds of your gushing arousal coating his digits and slapping of skin against skin fills the small space of the bedroom.

Before long, you finally cum on his fingers, back arching and a long drawn out moan releasing from the depths of your throat and Dave’s mouth climbs back up your body to swallow down the rest of your moans while his fingers continue their delightful torture below, working you through your orgasm as your walls pulse and contract around his thick fingers.

“Oh my god” you sigh, hands wrapping around Dave’s head as he buries his face in the side of yours and his hand finally leaves your sex to rest at your hip instead, giving you some reprieve. He shifts to lie on his side next to you now, pressing in close against your body while you lie on your back, body still trembling as you come back down from your high.

“You’re so beautiful” he murmurs, placing a soft kiss just below your ear while his thumb absently runs back and forth against your hip. “So perfect” another kiss, this time to the underside of your jaw and you turn on your side to face him. “So good to me” he concludes, pressing a kiss to your lips.

He’s being so sweet and attentive and incredibly affectionate and though you definitely like the harder, dominating side of Dave, there’s something about his softness that you’re finding just as addictive.

You’re well and truly fucked now. Literally, figuratively.

You try to ignore the way your heart swells as you lie here on your sides face to face, slowly kissing and exploring each other with your hands. Dave’s touch is slow and methodical, like he needs to map out every inch of you to commit to memory like he might never see it again and you arch into his touch every chance you get, desperate to feel more of him. It’s not long before your body is craving him again and with how you can feel him pressed against your belly, you know he needs you too. You roll on top of him and take his face in both hands, ensuring his eyes focus on you and they do, his hands stilling on either side of your hips.

“Make love to me. Please David”

The words barely get past your lips before Dave surges upward, mouth capturing yours in a desperate and heated kiss. His arms wrap around you and he flips you both so you’re underneath him again as his tongue invades the heat of your mouth, the wet muscle wrapping around yours as he seemingly puts every emotion he has into the passionate kiss.

Below you he’s gently lifting one of your legs up so it’s bent at the knee before his hand goes between his own legs to guide himself to line up at your entrance. It’s a slow press of his hips that pushes him inside of you and you both moan into each other's mouth once he enters you, filling you up so completely. He stills once he’s buried to the hilt and and pulls back from your mouth so his forehead rests against yours, your panting breaths mingling in the limited space between you.

Your name leaves his lips in a whisper and it nearly catches you off guard. You’re not even sure you’ve ever heard him say it before. He’s called you lots of names, sure, but never your own and a warmth spreads through your whole body at how it sounds coming from his lips like a forbidden secret meant only for your ears. Your hands go back to his face and pull him back in, your mouths melding together as he slowly begins to move.

“My god you’re fucking perfect” he breathes out as he pulls back just enough so that he can look into your eyes as he gently rocks his hips in and out of you and both your legs come up, locking your ankles together behind his back to keep him impossibly close as he ruts into you. “My perfect girl” he praises, eyes slipping shut as his forehead rests against yours and he focuses all his attention on how good you feel completely wrapped around him, consumed by him.

He fucks you slow and deep for what seems like an eternity, neither of you in any hurry to finish, just wanting to feel. Every slow drag of his cock against the wet heat of your walls sends a tingle down your spine that has your toes curling, ankles digging deeper into the soft and sweat-slicked flesh of his back. Eventually though the need for a release comes on strong and fast for you both and refuses to be ignored. Your legs wrap around his torso a little tighter, your hand in his hair gripping harder and his hot breaths against your neck getting more ragged as his hips pick up the pace.

“Close?” he asks between labored breaths into the shell of your ear and you nod against him.

“Mmmhmm, fuck I’m so close, please”

“C’mere” he breathes, turning onto his side and shifting you into the same position, lying on your right side with your back to his front. He lifts your left leg that rests on top of your right so he can slip in between them again and slide right back into your welcoming heat, both of you groaning in pleasure at how much deeper he can reach inside of you at this angle.

“Oh my god” you cry out when he begins to piston back and forth.

“Right there?” he breathes against the side of your face and you whimper unintelligibly, nodding your head before turning it back so you can capture his lips, allowing him to swallow down each of your moans.

The hand still hooked under your leg wanders slightly until it reaches its prize between your legs, deft fingers pressing down exactly how you need them to and rubbing small tight circles against your puffy, swollen clit and that’s all it takes. Within moments you’re falling apart, a wrecked sob leaving your throat as your arm that’s not currently underneath you comes up to wrap around Dave’s neck, securing him to you as you whimper, whine and moan into his mouth, your orgasm completely taking hold over you for several long seconds.

“Baby, I can’t, I’m - fuck” he groans, holding himself back with no small amount of effort from finishing. The way your walls clamp down around him as he feels your release coating him, your limbs entwined all around his own that tremble and pulse like his own second heartbeat.

“Let go, it’s ok” you manage between shaky breaths, neck still craned so your lips are just a whisper away from his. “Wanna feel you, please. Want you inside me. Fill me up, baby. Please”

The moment the last words leave your lips he pushes in deep one final time and lets go, a strangled groan leaving his lips as he empties inside of you, pulsing as he paints the inside of your walls with rope after rope of his warm spend.

“Oh my god, oh my god” he groans into your throat as he slowly begins moving his hips again, ensuring every last drop of his seed stays buried deep inside you.

“Mmm hmmm” you whine, a desperate little sob escaping you as he continues to fuck his cum into you. “David, baby, god don’t stop. Don’t fucking stop”. He lets out a low growl, fucking you through the aftershocks of both your orgasms for as long as he can manage, then gives one final deep push as far as he can possibly reach and stills for several long seconds until he’s forced to pull back and finally, regretfully, slips out of you.

“Baby,” he sighs, like he’s physically pained by pulling out of you, wishing he could stay there forever. He gently lowers your leg back down and his arms reach around underneath you to embrace you and he rolls you so you’re on top of him, neither of you concerned about your sweat slicked bodies or the sticky mess where his spent cock rests against your swollen sex.

“That was incredible” he confesses in a low whisper before planting a kiss to your temple, a strong arm coming up to wrap around your head and hold you close, afraid if he lets go you might just disappear.

In your post-orgasmic clarity you feel yourself begin to tense as you try to comprehend what exactly you just did and more importantly, what it means. Whatever that was, felt so different than every time before with Dave. You want to open your mouth to say something to him, to discuss what just happened and hopefully get some kind of gauge on what he’s feeling but your brain is a jumbled mess and the words don’t come in time before he’s gently rolling you off of him to get up.

He grabs for one of the discarded towels from earlier that you’d tossed over the back of the armchair in the room and brings it between your legs, gently wiping away any leftover mess that’s there before he bends down and places a kiss to your forehead.

“I’m going to take a shower” he tells you and you can do little more than nod your head. You wish you could form at least one coherent thought in your brain but they all escape you. You don’t even know where to begin, or what you even want to say. Or if you should be even having any sort of intimate conversation between the two of you without Marcus present.

None of it feels right, except for the part where it all feels right, and that alone terrifies you. You flip over onto your side and nestle into the pillows, willing for your brain to just shut down and provide you with a few minutes of solace. By some miracle, peace does come to you in the form of sleep, your body too spent and exhausted to stay awake a moment longer and you’re passed out before you even hear the shower stop running.

You don’t wake up to the snick of the hotel door closing shut after Dave gathered up every last piece of evidence of himself in the room and left without a word while you slept soundly, blissfully unaware that when his lips pressed against your forehead right before he walked out the door that it was the last time he intended on ever seeing you again. Either of you.

Next Chapter

Taglist (if you want to be added - or removed!, lmk!) @senaar-ika @suzdin @boliv-jenta @prolix-yuy @vabeachazn @seasonalobession @pedroshotwifey @nerdieforpedro @chronically-ghosted @macabremads @survivingandenduring @theywhowriteandknowthings @axshadows @iamasaddie @vickywallace @lincolndjarin @its-nebuleuse @janaispunk @missladym1981 @heareball @staywildflowahchild @guelyury @anotherpedrolover @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @runningmom94 @yorksgirl @harrington-thedad @missyorkswhore

[decks-writing-blog]

Whatever the Fuck Benrey is: Chapter Seven: Perform Like a Circus Animal

Chapter One

Previous Chapter

~

“Wake the fuck up already, Gordon!”

It was a far less horrendous wake up call than the wretched blaring of Gordon’s alarm clock, but that didn’t make Benrey happy about it.

“You’re the one who volunteered us to ferry supplies like a bunch of goody two-shoes pack mules,” Bubby continued, just as loud. “So you gotta get up and get a move on already.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m awake.” Gordon’s voice rumbled in his chest where Benrey still lay against it. They’d shifted a bit, Gordon now lying partially on is back with Benrey on top. He was still fully under the blanket though so he was still hidden from Bubby’s view. “How’d you get in here? I locked the front door.”

“I picked it. You know where Benrey is? I’d thought he’d be in here, playing your Xbox or something.”

Gordon’s arms shifted around Benrey, holding him a bit tighter, as he rolled a bit more onto his side, bringing Benrey with him and thus hiding him better under the blanket. “He was last night. I got no clue where he is now. I’m sure he’ll show up again eventually, he always does. Now could you please leave so I can get out of bed?”

“You naked under there?”

“Yeah, so fuck off.”

“Don’t fall back asleep.” A moment later, the bedroom door closed.

Gordon held Benrey to his chest for a couple more seconds before sighing and shifting to lift the blanket so he could look down at Benrey. “Good morning. Sleep well?”

“Five more minutes?” Benrey didn’t need another five minutes of sleep but he also didn’t want to get up yet.

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes’. Unfortunately we can’t lie here for five more minutes because it’ll turn into an hour and we… or at least, I really do have stuff to do today. So move.”

Benrey groaned but obeyed because Gordon would probably push him if he didn’t. Upon sliding off the bed and stretching himself out, he already missed Gordon’s warmth. It was a like a hot shower than never ran cold and without all the wet that cooled too quickly when stepping out. … He could survive without it though. Being needy, clingy, and desperate for cuddles was kind of lame and so he wasn’t. A one time really nice cuddle was all he needed or wanted. He was set for life on that now.

“You weren’t there but last night we talked and agreed to ferry supplies for the rescue attempt that the other guys are putting together to look for people deeper in the facility. We’re also bringing back wounded to Tuefort. Technically since the stuff in the health packs apparently comes from you, you could probably heal them. But we’re trying to keep you secret and no one’s in life threatening danger so it’s fine. I volunteered to drive back all our personal stuff while Dr. Coomer, Bubby, and Tommy deal with the wounded. Meaning you’re riding back with me.” As he talked, Gordon cleaned his glasses before sliding them back on his face.

“Neat. You got a DS or PSP or some other handheld gaming thing I could play during the drive?”

“Uh… yeah, actually. I found my Game Boy Advance in the closet yesterday. There was even half a pack of batteries still with it. I haven’t touched it in a few years though so I can’t say for sure it’ll work but it probably should.”

Well on the off chance it was busted, Benrey could always ask Tommy to lend him a book. OSHA manuals were probably even more boring than normal books but they’d probably still beat staring out the car window at the unchanging desert. Though even that was better than staring at it as he walked it. But if push came to shove, he could just bother Gordon to keep himself entertained. So really, it’d be fine no matter what.

~

Naturally having no personal possessions left intact to pack up, Benrey was ready to leave first. It helped that he also didn’t have to bother with breakfast. He played the Xbox right up until Gordon forced him off so he could pack it up. Blessedly upon doing so he handed over a large tote bag with a picture of a cat on it that contained his promised Game Boy Advance and batteries for it along with a whole bunch of games and some cables. Apparently he had indeed been hiding the good stuff in his room.

Benrey then moved to sit and wait the car and sort through his new borrowed treasure trove of games while Gordon – with some help from Coomer – packed all of the Science Team’s stuff into trunk and the back seats. Said car was a company car, the Black Mesa logo painted on both sides. Meant for transporting things, it was bigger than Bubby’s but the seats were less comfortable. It had a Christmas tree air freshener hanging from the rear view mirror. An old one based off how little scent still clung to it.

Gordon, in typical Gordon fashion, ended up dawdling more than was necessary before getting into the driver’s seat and finally getting the show on the road. Tempting as it was to tease him for that, Benrey was already too absorbed in, new to him, Superstar Saga – Gordon’s selection of Game Boy games was much better than his paltry Xbox game collection – to think of something good. So he let it go… for now. Next time he dawdled for a long time when Bubby wasn’t around to urge him onward, Benrey would be sure to say something though. Had to keep him on his toes after all.

Other than the radio, playing soft only slightly staticky music, and the sound of the Game Boy, they rolled in silence for maybe a whole five minutes before Gordon broke it.

“So you can purr, huh?”

Before he could stop himself, Benrey flinched. His first instinct was to look at Gordon. A mistake he quickly remedied, setting his gaze back on the Game Boy even though he’d lost his train of thought with it. “What? No. Who told you that?”

“Last night, or I guess more like super early this morning, after the alarm woke us, you fell back asleep first and started purring.”

Damn it! He’d stamped down that urge and thought it defeated. Even after instead of having a funny reaction to Benrey being so close, Gordon had said he could stay which had been nice in an entirely different way, he hadn’t done it. Purring was cute and he may not know what he was beyond being not human but he did know he also wasn’t cute. Apparently whilst asleep his body had betrayed him.

“It was pretty cute,” Gordon continued at Benrey’s failure to respond, proving Benrey’s point.

“I’m not cute.” People in real life or in video games and movies labeled as ‘cute’ were almost never taken seriously. They were the side kick, rarely respected, often cooed at like a baby or dumb animal. Cute things were looked down upon, treated as less than.

“Nah, it was pretty damn cute, dude, adorable even.

“Shut up.”

Gordon chuckled. It wasn’t as nice as his laugh normally was because he was laughing at Benrey’s expense this time. “Does Tommy know?”

“No.” The only other people who knew were the scientists in charge of him. The way they’d treated it as a cute fun thing to show off to everyone like some kind of spectacle had convinced Benrey to never purr again. It had lead to the one and only he’d broken into their lab to destroy recordings of himself once they’d finally given up on trying to force him to do it again in person for everyone who wanted to see and instead had just showed the tapes. Since then, rare were the times he’d even felt tempted to purr, making it rather easy to not do while in front of anyone. Until last night apparently anyway. “Don’t tell him.”

Of course Gordon would tell though. Gordon barely tolerated him so why would he not share Benrey’s secret? It was cute and thus must be shared and shown off. And now not only Gordon but Tommy and the rest of the Science Team would know too and he would never live it down. Heck, maybe he’d already told them and they’d had a good laugh at his expense over breakfast.

“Okay, okay, I won’t tell.”

Pausing his game – he’d been doing nothing but running around in circles anyway – Benrey looked up at Gordon again. His eyes were on the road and his gun hand was pushed through one of the lower parts of the steering wheel, helping steer. His expression wasn’t much of anything other than generally relaxed, making it hard to tell if he was genuine. “Really?”

“Yeah, sure, unlike some people, I try to not be an asshole, so if it really bothers you, I won’t tell Tommy or anyone else.”

“Okay. Better keep that promise though or else.”

“Or else what?”

“Uh… I don’t know yet. Just don’t tell.”

“I won’t.” He was silent for a long moment after that, long enough that Benrey was about to return his attention to his Game Boy before he continued. “Can I ask, um… why you purr though? Like, uh, cats purr most of the time because of positive feelings. But you’re not a cat, obviously, so do you purr because you’re happy or is it something else? Like maybe it’s just something you do when you’re asleep. Or is it because you were having some kind of dream that… made you purr for whatever reason.”

“I don’t know. I just do it sometimes when I’m warm and cozy or whatever. It’s lame so I try avoid stuff that might make me feel like doing it.” Except last night but he wasn’t going to make that mistake again.

Gordon broke eye contact with the road to look at Benrey, his expression soft now. What exact emotion was behind it was hard to tell though. “Well… I don’t think it’s lame. It’s pretty soothing actually, like it sounds nice. Um, it helped me fall back asleep. So I don’t think you should be ashamed of it so much you avoid it or whatever.”

Benrey scoffed as he turned his attention back onto the Game Boy. What did Gordon even know about it? Nothing, that’s what. He wasn’t the one with the ability to purr and thus didn’t have to live with some people thinking him a cute, adorable thing to show off to everyone when finding out. So Benrey was done talking about it. He had a game to focus on.

***

Driving was quickly proving to not be as much of a distraction as Gordon had hoped it would be. In hindsight not surprising given he was driving through an empty dessert with nothing to look at but dirt. The only other cars were the two Bubby and Dr. Coomer had been lent – no sign of Bubby’s original car which would’ve made three, freeing up room for Tommy to drive as well instead of going with Dr. Coomer, but whatever – and they were both far enough ahead that he’d have to go out of his way to hit them.

So naturally, after only a few minutes, he resumed talking to Benrey. Finding out more about him would be worthwhile, for curiosity's sake but also they had some sort of tenuous friendship going so it’d be good to know more about him on that front too. Also, apparently somewhere along his hellish journey through Black Mesa Gordon had become the kind of person who always needed to be talking or listening to someone else talk. Making him annoying but Benrey was annoying too so he deserved it.

Over the next long while he subtly tried to get as much info out of Benrey about his past as he could. What kind of life had he lead in the lab? How had they treated him? What kind of experiments had they subjected him to and their results?

Trying not to ask any outright invasive questions made it easy for Benrey to slip around them with a lot of non-answers. He was distracted by his game of course but also some of it had to be purposeful avoidance. Gordon pressed for more here and there but never too hard lest it be sensitive. Resulting in him not learning as much as he’d have liked. He did confirm and reconfirm a few things though, such as, Benrey had indeed spent his whole entire life in the lab in the lab, he wasn’t sure if he’d been born, hatched, or made there in a tube or something else, and that when he’d talked about the scientists harvesting his ‘juice’ to turn into medical goo he had indeed meant his blood – they drew it out of him with needles.

“Did you have anyone who uh… you considered to be like a parent?”

“Nope.”

Gordon waited for a bit but of course no further answer came. Benrey was too focused on his game and/or just straight up didn’t want to elaborate. And Gordon couldn’t exactly ask him if he’d been mistreated, especially since that was probably a given, right?

“What about friends? Any of the scientists your friends?”

“You guys.”

“I mean like the scientists uh… assigned to you or whatever. Any of them your friend?”

“Nope.”

And so on and so forth, Gordon never quite daring to ask what he actually wanted to know. Giving up on that line of questioning and bringing up video games finally got a bit more though.

“First console I got was the original Game Boy, the one with like the green screen and no real colour. I stole it from one of my handlers pockets. Only had one game for it but it was fun. I kept in my gamer pad and made it a power thingy but then it got bombed so… it’s busted now.”

“Oh, uh, sorry about that.”

“It really blows. A real bummer.”

Gordon would’ve liked to offer some comfort but how did one comfort someone who hadn’t had much to begin with and then lost it all? Instead… “What do you mean you ‘made it a power thingy’ though?”

“I put some energy in it so it would draw more power for me. Only a little though ‘cause I was doing it mostly to make it easy to find my gamer pad without having to like… walk through the halls and stuff, I could always just go straight to it. Also it was special but… whatever, doesn’t matter now.” The last sentence was a mumble, just barely audible over the radio and sounds coming from his game.

“So… like what you did with the passports on Xen?”

“Yeah but not as much. Oh, uh…” he looked at Gordon, not something he’d done often during this conversation, “I figured out earlier that uh, I’m made from Xen energy… I think. On Xen I was like… the most powerful I’d ever been and before that, after the resonance cascade, I was pretty powerful and always more powerful in Black Mesa. Especially around where they were getting all the Xen stuff to study. But now, with all the portals shut, I’m like the same power level anywhere I go, basically. So I must be made form Xen energy or from something they found on Xen.”

“Or maybe your from Xen?” Making him an alien and thus finally a possible answer to what he was.

“Hmm… don’t know, maybe.”

“Though, uh… maybe not. We saw all sorts of Xen stuff and none of it seemed to exhibit anything like what you can do. Which doesn’t mean much because we didn’t see much of Xen.” Meaning all they’d really done was narrow it down to alien or lab grown monster made when experimenting with stuff taken from Xen.

“I now know something about where I came from though so… you should be happy with that, right? You can stop being weird about me not knowing that kinda stuff.”

Gordon hadn’t thought he’d been being weird about it, just appropriately flabbergasted and a bit saddened that Benrey knew so little about his origins. “Uh… yeah. Knowing you have a connection to Xen is certainly far better than knowing nothing.”

“Good.” Benrey returned his full attention back onto his game.

Gordon turned his gaze back onto the road. Not that there was much to look at, just more desert road stretching in front of him, the sky overhead clear and blue. Tuefort was still awhile away. “It’s not everything though. It’s still sad you don’t know. But uh… I guess since we’re on the topic of what you are, what all can you do?” He’d been wondering that for awhile, since realizing Benrey had powers. Bubby and Dr. Coomer too but it was only Benrey in the car with him right now.

“Lots of stuff.” More of that non-committal dodging the question. Surely this couldn’t be a sensitive topic though, right? He was just being difficult for the sake of it. Gordon wasn’t going to let him get away with it if he could help it.

“Some of it’s basically magic, right?” Once upon a time magic would’ve seemed the opposite of science but Gordon had been working at Black Mesa long enough to see plenty of things that could only be described as magic even before his adventure with Benrey.

“I guess.”

“Right, so, you can imbue objects with power to draw more energy for you, shape shift, heal, including growing back lost limbs and… phase through solid matter. I know I’m missing stuff so… what?”

“Yep, you’re missing stuff.”

“Like what? Tell me.”

“Why you wanna know so bad?”

“I’m curious. From a scientific standpoint you’re fascinating. So I wanna know what you can do. Like starting with your shape shifting, what are the limits of it? How big and small can you get? You said you’re less powerful now than you were on Xen so can you not get as big as you could there? Can you take other forms? Like could you turn into a… grizzly bear or some other drastically different animal if you wanted to? Can you shape shift yourself gills to breath underwater?”

Benrey groaned as he turned his head to look at Gordon again. “So many questions. You’re starting to get kinda annoying.” Seemingly it had taken a while but Gordon had finally gotten under his skin. A win for sure.

“Yeah well, after all the times you annoyed me I don’t feel too bad about that. So like… tell me more or heck, show me if you want. Probably not right now but when we’re back at the hotel show me… I don’t know, all your magic stuff. I wanna see it.” It’d be interesting and something to do.

“You wanna put me in an observation cube so you can poke and prod at me until you figure out everything I can do and how far I can push it? Gonna see how much I can endure before I die or whatever? It’s not like it matters ‘cause I come back. Want me to jump through flaming hoops and do a little dance like a circus animal too?” His tone started his usual monotone neutral but by the end, his annoyance was audible.

That should’ve been even more a win than just getting him to admit to being annoyed but… his exact words made it not exactly feel like one. His upset wasn’t with the endless annoying prodding questions but with being asked to perform ‘like a circus animal’. So Gordon had found a sore point for sure but it wasn’t much of a funny ha-ha one but instead one that made him feel kind of like a bully.

“No, no, of course not. I would never…” Gordon took his eyes off the road to look properly at him. “I wouldn’t make you do anything you didn’t want to. I was just asking you to uh… show me.” So he had been asking Benrey to perform for him. “Um… yeah, not great, sorry.”

Even just a couple days ago he never would’ve believed he’d apologize to Benrey of all people, even less would have believed he meant it. But well… being a little nosy was understandable, even being a little annoying with it was somewhat justifiable with how much of an ass Benrey could be but there was still a limit. Asking him to let Gordon openly study him was probably hitting that limit if not passing it outright.

“Sorry,” he said again. “I’ll stop prying. I guess, um, I owe you some answers to personal questions too, if you wanna ask them.”

Benrey stared at him in silence, the shadow over his eyes seemingly darker than usual. Gordon had to break eye contact before the urge to ask about it grew too strong. He probably shouldn’t have taken his eyes off the road to begin with. The last thing they needed or wanted was for him to drive them into a ditch and get stuck, stranding them in the dessert.

“All right then,” Benrey finally said just when it was starting to seem like he was done talking period. “What’s your deepest darkest secret?”

The people he’d killed while they’d been making their way through Black Mesa. Benrey already knew about that though and it wasn’t something Gordon wanted to think about. He did have other secrets though that he’d never told anyone and well, Benrey would probably get a kick out of some of them. “In elementary school, when I was like… seven or eight, the teachers would hand out scented markers for the students to use for arts and crafts. We were supposed to put them all back in the box and return them to the front at the end of class. I, uh, put a couple in my backpack instead and took them home. The red, blue, and brown ones because they smelled the best.”

A beat of silence before… “Ha! I knew you were a thief.”

“Yep, I’m, a dirty thief. That was a twenty years ago though so the statute of limitations is up, meaning I can’t be punished for it.”

“Damn. You ever steal anything else?”

Gordon took a breath to say, ‘no’ but… that would be a lie. If he couldn’t in good conscious try to get Benrey to talk any more about himself, he might as well share some of his own past instead. It was only fair after how much he’d prodded at Benrey for his, right? And none of his past crimes were anything he could get in trouble for anymore so there was no harm in sharing. Maybe it would make Benrey more comfortable sharing more about himself in the future too, since it was an exchange of information instead of Gordon just asking him stuff.

~

By the time they were rolling back into Tuefort, Benrey knew about all of Gordon’s petty crimes. A short list, even counting the stuff that had just been minor family drama like the time he’d removed the head of one of his sister’s dolls in vengeance for some slight he no longer remembered. Gordon might regret telling him one day but it lifted the mood in the car quite a bit so for now it was worth it.

While Bubby and Dr. Coomer brought their wounded cargo to the hospital, Gordon stopped by the Tuefort’s tiny mall to get Benrey a cellphone and add him to his mobile plan. The rest of the Science Team had already exchanged numbers but apparently Benrey had never even had a phone and thus, having somehow wormed his way back into the group, he needed one.

“I want that one,” he said before Gordon could even finish asking the question, pointing to one of the fancy new touch screen phones.

“That whole touch screen thing is an overpriced gimmick, so, no.” There was no way that was going to catch on, right? The phones with the keyboards that slid out of the side were the way of the future.

“But I heard they got games on them and can take pics.”

“I already basically gave you my Game Boy though so you don’t need another handheld thing for games. But uh… you like to take pictures?” Now that Gordon thought about it, he had seen Benrey with a camera a few times. It had never come up in conversation so he hadn’t thought about it much until now.

Benrey shrugged. “It’s cool. Lost my camera on Xen though when… you know, and uh… spare’s broke.”

The smart thing to do would be to just get a him a standard phone – one of the ones without a camera to make it even cheaper – and that’s it. There were a number ways he could cause problems with a camera. But if it was important enough for him to bring it up, maybe it would also help keep him entertained and thus out of trouble. “How ‘bout, I get you a cheap phone for just texting and calling, then separately a decent cheap digital camera? That work?”

“Uh… yeah, that works.”

Gordon took a breath, intending to tell him not be weird with the camera but… bit back on it. Mostly not to give him any evil ideas but also because if this friendship they were forming was going to work, he had to at least try to trust Benrey a little bit sometimes. Also he still felt bad in general for Benrey and specifically for being too nosy in the car and making up for that with a show of good will couldn’t hurt.

From there it blessedly wasn’t long before they were meeting back up as a whole group for lunch. A pizza place that Gordon had never visited before but proved to be quite good. Even Benrey ate some which continued the trend of Gordon not being sure if he actually needed to eat or not. Probably he did, right? Just not as often as humans. Maybe he was like a reptile and only needed to eat like once a week or month, or whatever. After how nosy he’d been in the car, Gordon refrained from asking for now.

Once done, they loaded up on the supplies they promised to bring back and stopped by the hotel for a quick shower, to drop their stuff off, to make sure their rooms were still secured for now, and to drop Benrey off. The best way to continue to keep him secret from the rest of the Black Mesa folk would be to not bring him back there. Leaving him alone and unsupervised for so long seemed liked an awfully bad idea but what other choice was there?

“Here’s the deal,” Gordon said once he had Benrey seated on one of the chairs and paying attention to him. “You’re gonna sit here in this room and play video games for however long I end up staying down there.” Before leaving that morning he’d also been implored to stick around after ferrying supplies back down to help with the start of salvaging whatever they could out of the facility. He’d agreed to it in part to keep himself busy a bit longer but also to ease up on all the back and forth trips. “You can go out occasionally but don’t bother anyone or cause problems. Problems by my definition, not yours. Which means anything that��s gonna harm anyone or be especially disruptive. Just stick to yourself mostly and play your games, you got plenty. If you’re bad, I’m not getting a Play Station to share with you. Understood?”

Benrey rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, understood.”

“Good. And just to reiterate and make super clear, no violence of any sort.”

“I just said I understood and you took the gun away. Can’t do violence without a gun.” A lie and he had to know it. “Why so worried?”

“I’m just… a naturally anxious person.” And even if he was maybe starting to like Benrey as a friend, that didn’t mean he trusted him to behave. He liked cats too after all but no matter how well mannered a cat was, he’d never trust it to not make a mess if left alone with a potted plant for too long. There were countless metaphorical potted plants Benrey could decide to play with and/or eat while Gordon wasn’t around to keep a close eye on him. Benrey was of course more intelligent than most cats and was thus perfectly capable of restraining himself. Being able to didn’t mean he would though, hence the worry.

“What ‘bout you? You gonna be good without me keeping an eye on you for so long? Not gonna steal anymore scented markers?”

“I highly doubt I’ll get an opportunity to but even if I do, I promise I won’t. I haven’t stolen even a cookie from a cookie jar in more than ten years so it’s really not even much of a question.”

“’Kay, but you also gonna be okay? You talked an awful lot on the drive down here, almost like someone afraid of silence. So… you gonna be okay in the silence by yourself?” Seems he was far more perceptive than Gordon had thought.

“Uh… yeah. I’m gonna ask Tommy to ride with me and even drive if he wants to. So I think I’ll be okay. I’ll text you later to see how you’re doing or whatever, I guess.” Make sure he hadn’t burned the hotel down.

“’Kay, talk to ya later.”

~

Next Chapter

[im-a-king-baby]

Hiii i loved ELYN so much.

I was hoping for any other tidbits/stories/scenes about Simon carrying the frog in the sock. i just wondered if it was like his comfort object or like the orange sweater etc. .That was one of my favorite scenes when Wille finds it

And/or “i wanted to wake up with you” i dont think i will ever forget that line.

💜 thank youuuu

Okay so I'm sorry this is so very late. Life has been a Lot 😅 hopefully folks are still interested in my ramblings!

<3 <S <3

"I wanted to wake up with you."

Fun fact: I almost cut this line. It was originally in the first draft where Simon never made the late-night-call that led everyone to Bjarstad and I was worried that after I'd made that change this line would put people off Simon, because at this point (in theory) Simon knows that Wilhelm had to get up because of what Simon did during the night so it's a bit unfair to Wilhelm. But then I figured Simon's in withdrawal, he's going to be resentful and frustrated and just because intellectually he knows it's his fault that doesn't mean he's not still having those feelings.

As far as the wanting goes, Simon is just dragging himself through life at the moment. He had this whole spiral of failing to sleep, eventually managed it by basically promising himself a future where he'd wake up and things would still be like they were when they went to bed, just the two of them avoiding the world. Plus withdrawal emotions, plus Candace showing up, the bubble is fully burst and this line is Simon tired and resentful and having to face it.

In case you're interested in how things change in editing, this is the first draft version of this moment (in this version Candace showed up basically the moment the queen left which would have been one hell of a coincidence).

“People always leave before I wake up. Maybe they think I’ll be less fun sober, probably they’re right.” “I wasn’t trying to leave you.” “Okay.” It’s the same tone of voice, accepting but not believing. “Are you going back to Stockholm with her?” He pushes himself off the wall, crossing into the kitchen and opening cupboards at random. It’s Friday morning. Wilhelm is due on TV at six PM. He’s supposed to be attending multiple prep meetings, seeing a stylish and a make-up artist before that. Minou is no doubt already at full panic stations. “I can stay if you want me to.” He stands up as Simon emerges from a cupboard with a half full bottle of vodka. “I can help you look for a lawyer. Or we could go for a walk.” Simon unscrews the bottle. “If you want to go, you can go.” The roar of an engine surges outside. Simon is closer to the window, and Wilhelm sees the moment his face shuts down, the inevitability of it, a moment before he sees Candace emerge from a sleek white car. “I want to be here for you. If you’ll let me,” Wilhelm says, picking at a conversation that’s already died as Simon braces his shoulders like a solider going into battle and tilts the bottle up to take three long swallows. Candace raps three times on the door. “Simme! Open this door right the fuck now.” Simon looks at Wilhelm over the bottle. “I wanted to wake up with you.”

x🐸🐸🐸x THE FROG x🐸🐸🐸x

After six hours of meetings a car comes to drive him to the hotel. Rachel tells him to order whatever he likes from room service and to be in the lobby for seven thirty the next morning and then he’s letting himself into a luxury hotel room. There’s a lounge, a bedroom, a bathroom with a full size bath and a separate shower with six different heads.

He takes the frog out of his bag and places it on the bedside table overlooking the pillow then pulls out his phone. He’d messaged Wilhelm when he arrived (Landed! Hopefully someone comes to pick me up!) and now he sees Wilhelm has texted three times since.

Good luck! La doesnt know whats hit it! Everything okay? I’m awake, no plans today whenever you want to call

Simon texts back: Sorry! Dumped straight into meetings all day. I’m kind of exhausted, can we do tomorrow?

Wilhelm: Of course! Jet lags a bitch. Sleep well, I love you xxx

Simon picks up the menu off the side but his stomach is still protesting the bagel it thinks it had in the middle of the night and he kicks off his trainers and his jeans and crawls into the mega bed.

After a moment, he reaches over and picks up the frog again, runs his thumb across the nose, and settles back down with it’s weight firm in his palm as he types: Love you toox

x🐸x

Candace tells him they’re going to Sweden in the same matter-of-fact voice she uses to tell him anything. The label won’t approve a third single. We have to crowdfund plane tickets. We can’t afford to keep the whole band, who can you live without? I’ve booked us a week in Stockholm and put word out to local news sites and venues, we’ll be taking the buses up there after Paris.

Simon reaches for his backpack on instinct, touches the front pocket where Wilhelm’s frog has been nestled since they left L.A. “Should I… I should call Wilhelm, right? Let him know?”

Candace glances at him over her iPad. “Sure,” she says. “Let me know if you need me to put him on the List.”

Simon leaves the meeting, twisting his phone over and over between his hands. They’re going to Sweden. For the first time since he flew out and it’s - he glances at his phone again - it’s September.

Fuck, it’s September. It’s September 2024, somehow. It’s been over a year since he left Sweden, since he last saw Wilhelm. He scrolls through the contacts on his phone but Wilhelm isn’t in there, of course Wilhelm isn’t in there, Simon got this phone back in L.A. and he hadn’t had time to transfer anything across. That had been last Christmas. Ten months ago and god, where had that time gone?

He could ask Candace to get Wilhelm’s number. That’s what she does, she sorts things. Wilhelm doesn’t answer the phone to unknown numbers. Obviously. But Simon could write a text or something. Hi, this is Simon. I know you said there was no way we could make it work because I was so busy all the time but I’m going to be in Sweden and I’ll still be busy all the time and you’re probably off in the army somewhere but -

It sounds stupid. It is stupid. There is no ‘but’, they don’t work and that has always been abundantly clear.

He unzips his backpack and the frog is there in it’s tiny golden crown, glitter still clinging to the paint because glitter is a bitch that can never be removed.

There’s a scratch across it’s nose, deep enough that Simon’s nail can catch against it. Hi Wilhelm, this is Simon, I know we haven’t talked for a while but I need to give you your frog back because you trusted me to keep one thing safe and I couldn’t even -

He scrolls back up his contacts to Guitar, Kevan and types: drinks?

His suitcase is at the edge of the room, surrounded by a scattering of costume pieces and toiletries. He digs through chains and glitter to find a pair of probably-clean socks and tucks the frog inside, where it’ll be safe.

His phone buzzes: party in 267

He just needs something to calm his nerves, to settle his stomach.

He’ll ask Candace to get the number tomorrow. Or, there’s a show tomorrow, next time he has a free minute.

He tucks the bundle down into the case and heads out of the room.

x🐸x

His case is still on the floor of his bedroom half full from tour. Technically he’s been back in L.A. for two months but unpacking was one of those ‘I’ll do it later’ things that has now somehow come full circle. He tugs out clothes, nudging them into the ever growing laundry for the cleaners to pick up once he’s gone.

His hand finds something solid and he pulls it out. Socks, with something inside, and his throat catches as he remembers September, Sweden. Everyone talking to him in Swedish, fans screaming 'jag älskar dig!' like it wasn’t… like…

Candace promised the next tour could skip it. And if he’s not going to Sweden, he can’t give the frog back, so there’s no point having it. He doesn’t need it.

He folds the socks around it a little tighter, stands up to push it into the back of his sock drawer, underneath everything else. It’ll be safer there.

Two days later the taxi is honking it’s horn outside as he runs back into the room, upends the whole drawer on the floor and grabs the wrapped bundle, shoving it into his pocket on his way out the door.

x🐸x

There’s a fresh bruise forming on his collarbone, a faded one on the side of his neck, a man whose name he doesn’t know snoring face down on the cheap polyester pillows.

He runs his thumb back and forth across the nose of the tiny frog statue, lets his head thump back against the wall to stare up at the ceiling and count down the hours until dawn.

[stray-kaz]

A Baby Shower for Frankie : a Frank Castle x reader drabble

“Karen wants to throw you a baby shower, sweetheart. Can I come?”

You glanced up from the baby magazine you were flipping through, rocking back and forth comfortably in the feeding chair Frank had commissioned for you specially. It sat by the window in the baby’s room, haloed by afternoon sunlight. You loved this room; Frank had worked so hard on it, painting it lilac and pink and helping to install mahogany shelves with rows of books and stuffed toys.

“You would want to come to that kind of thing?” you asked, surprised and more than a little curious.

He nodded, clasping his hands behind his back and swaying back and forth on his heels.

“Yeah” he admitted gruffly, hanging his head a little shyly. “With Maria, I...I wasn’t allowed. She always said they were for women only, but I’d like to be a part of it.”

“Well, traditionally...” you trailed off, as you studied his face.

Frank raised his eyebrows, daring you to complete the sentence. You smiled up at him and stood to meet him in the middle of the room, pressing your rounded belly against his stomach. His hands automatically came up to rest there, stroking gently.

“I would love for you to be there” you assured him, stretching up on tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “And so would baby D -”

He hastily pressed a finger to your lips, shushing you.

“Shh! If we start saying it out loud, we’ll give it away and it’s a secret!”

You grinned at his panic and pulled him down by the back of his neck to kiss away his fear.

“Of course, Frankie” you said softly against his lips. “Anything you want, husband.”

His head tipped right back as he groaned, tightening his hold on your round hips.

“You’re not on bed rest, are you?” he asked you, eyeing you with dark mischievous eyes.

“No...”

“Good.”

He grasped your hand and pulled you out of the room in a hurry.

*********************************************

Frank rested his palm in the small of your back as he guided you through the swinging glass doors and into the cafe rented out for your baby shower. A cheer went up and you backed into Frank, taken by surprise. He gently pushed you forward into a room filled with your friends, most of them having been brought into your life since meeting Frank.

“Hi, everyone” you said shyly. “Thank you for this. I think Frank has been more excited than me for today.”

He rolled his eyes, shaking his head as everybody laughed and grinned at him.

“Teddy bear Frank, huh?” Matt said, smirking.

Frank pointed a finger at him, growling quietly.

“Only she can call me that” he grunted. “Don’t care if you’re blind, Matt, I’ll still kick your ass all round this room.”

“I’d like to see you try” Matt retorted.

You rolled your eyes and tugged on Frank’s arm, pulling him back.

“Calm down, Frankie” you murmured. “He’s just teasing you.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t like to be teased except by you.”

You blushed and pulled him over to the long table laid out for you with cupcakes, silver and pink balloons, bowls of candy and a pile of gifts towering in the centre. He helped you sit, seven and a half months pregnant and a little, okay, a lot, ungainly.

“Thank you” you said softly, and he smiled at you.

The others joined you and Frank placed a cupcake in front of you, along with one of the many presents.

“One down, five million to go” he muttered, quietly so only you could hear; Matt rolled his eyes.

“Well, you can help me open them” you replied, grinning broadly. “Get ripping, teddy bear Frank.”

He rolled his eyes and dropped a gentle kiss on your forehead.

“Yes, darlin’.”

[lovesosweeet]

better left unsaid // cth

chapter twenty two

in which orion has leukemia, and calum doesn’t know.

calum hood x fem!oc

read other chapters

TW: mentions of disordered eating, weight loss, body image descriptions

october 1, 2018 san diego, california calum

I could barely sleep last night with the excitement of reuniting with Orion at the front of my mind. I get to hold her, touch her, kiss her, be with her… today. It’s finally here. The day that we’ve been pining for is finally here.

I wake up early so I can be ready when she gets here. We slept on the bus last night after we drove out here from Denver. It’s quiet when I wake up, unsurprisingly. I grab my duffel bag of clothes and toiletries and head into the venue to take a shower. There’s no show today, but we’re camped out here for now. I’m supposed to stay at Orion’s family’s house tonight, but the rest of the band and crew are at a hotel.

As I get to the door into the venue, Gus is already here. I swear, the man is always working. His shifts are 12 hours at a time. He’s tired as he greets me, but still cheery.

“Orion comes today, right?” He asks me with a knowing smile. He knows the answer. The question is practically rhetorical.

I smile back at him without a second thought. Of course I’m smiling — I get to see my girl today. “Yep, she’s gonna be here around 10!”

Gus nods and opens the door for me. “Only three and a half hours to go, then.”

We leave the conversation there and I enter the building, looking around for signage to direct me to the dressing room. I find it and head that way. It’s nice to be in the venue this early. No one else is awake, aside from a handful of stray security guys and a janitor that’s mopping the floor.

I take what Orion would call an everything shower. It consists of scrubbing my entire body with a container of sugar scrub I stole from her abundant stash, slathering my body in some body wash from LUSH that she got me hooked on, shaving everything, shampoo, conditioner, exfoliating my face… everything. I want to look, feel, and smell my best for her, even though I know she wouldn’t care if I smelled like cat piss and looked like a complete mess.

When I get out of the shower, I text her, since it’s roughly when she will wake up anyway.

To: my love + stars gooooood morning!!!!! ☀️ today is the DAY!!!! drive safe and let me know when you hit the road. can’t wait to see you my love.

Back on the bus, I try to get my bunk in order. I make the bed as well as I can and organize my stuff so it doesn’t look quite as chaotic.

“Cal? What time is it?” Ashton’s voice sounds from the bunk above mine.

“It’s a little after seven,” I answer, trying to whisper.

“Why are you up this early?” He whispers back.

“We’re in San Diego, dude.”

Ashton opens the curtain to his bunk then so he can look at me. “Shit, didn’t even realize. You excited?” He smiles, already knowing my answer. Another practically rhetorical question.

“Can’t fucking wait.”

—

I spend my morning with Ashton inside the venue, just aimlessly scrolling on my phone while he reads a book. We’ve both downed a cup or two of coffee and eaten a few of the snacks we have backstage. It’s just bananas and granola bars currently, which is fine by me. I’m not really hungry. The excitement is all consuming.

My phone is already unlocked, watching Orion’s blinking blue dot on the Find My Friends app get closer and closer to mine. She stopped at her family’s house on her way here to drop off Duke so we can spend the day together. As her dot gets onto the premises of the venue, she starts calling. I answer instantly.

“Hi,” I answer. Ashton looks over at me then and he starts to smile. I’m sure he’s missed her too.

“Hi, I’m pulling in now. Matt told them I’m coming, right?”

“Of course. You’re his favorite, remember?”

She giggles. “Okay, sure. I’ll see you in a minute.”

“Can’t wait.” And then I hang up.

I get off the couch, brushing crumbs from my granola bar off my lap. I turn to Ash.

“Gonna go meet her. We’ll be back in a minute.”

He nods, looking back down to his book.

I walk around the maze of the backstage area, following signs to the exit. More crew are walking around now, all nodding to me politely as we pass each other. I open the back door to the buses and am greeted by the bright sunshine and Gus’ replacement.

I look around, trying to spot Orion’s silver sedan. I spot it parked behind the buses, but don’t see her.

Then, there she is, walking toward me with a glowing smile on her face, wearing a baggy green hoodie, presumably some shorts that I can't see, and a beat-up pair of New Balances. I take a few jogging steps toward her, but she's running, so we meet after just a few seconds.

I wrap her into my arms as quickly as I can from the moment I see her, but the second she’s there, pressed into my chest, I can’t help but notice she’s… different. Orion has always been tiny. She’s 5 feet tall and has always been pretty thin, but she had some slight curves still. Now, she’s bony and frail. Normally, I don’t like to comment on her appearance unless it’s telling her how absolutely gorgeous she is, except this time. I can’t help it. All I can think is that she’s smaller. I want to comment about it, and I try to hold it in, but I don’t trust myself to be able to do so.

“Hi,” I breathe, my face buried in her hair. I didn’t even remember to take in how short it is now. Her frail frame is the only thing on my mind.

“Hi,” she says back. She’s squeezing me back as hard as she can. Her arms are bonier than normal, somewhat masked by the oversized hoodie, but they’re there.

My hands slide up the sides of the hoodie she's wearing — technically mine — to grip her waist and I can instantly tell just how differently her body is shaped now. She feels fragile, far smaller than she was before. It's so obvious. Has the time apart really been this hard on her? I know it's been bad, but not unhealthily losing 20 pounds bad. Have I just not paid enough attention on our Facetimes? Am I that oblivious?

What happened?

Before I know it, the question falls out. “Did you lose weight?” I can't help it. The words tumble from my mouth and my hands scan her rib cage, feeling how much the bones protrude from her skin. She feels like just skin and bones, but she was trying to hide it under my baggy sweatshirt. Orion steps back so she can look at me.

Now, I notice her face and that her cheekbones jutting out sharper than before. Her cheeks are hollow, her eyes sunken in. She looks sick. 

Has she been struggling so badly this whole time? Why wouldn't she tell me? Did I not look at her at all while I’ve been gone? I’ve seen her face, but I don’t know how I could have missed that it looks like this. My heart aches at the thought of her being too sad to eat, too depressed to move. Things have to have been hard on her if this is how she is now. It’s all my fault.

"Just a little," she mutters. Now she can't even look me in the eye. She's suddenly trying not to cry.

My hands can encircle her waist, completely. She's so much smaller than she was before and there's no way it's healthy for her to be so thin. "Orion, it doesn't feel like 'just a little.'"

Her eyes finally meet mine, holding so much more emotion than I can swim through. What're normally almost orange irises are dark and muddy. "It's fine, okay?"

Her voice is so meek and sad that it pains me to hear. I don't want to press it. We don't need to have a full conversation about her possible disordered eating or stress-starving herself outside of a venue in San Diego. But I can't just drop the fact that she feels like she's down to just her skeleton and organs.

Orion's eyes search mine like she's trying to find the right thing for her to say in the depths of my eyes. I didn't mean to make her cry. I just can't believe that she is so much less of herself than she was two months ago, and I feel like it's my fault for leaving. How can this have happened? Does she need help? I try to put a pin in all the questions I have, but they cloud my thoughts and it's hard to think about anything else. I want to be excited that we’re finally together again, but excited is nowhere near the top of the list of the emotions I’m feeling right now.

"Orion's here!"

"Oh my god, O!"

"Ah! Orion! Cal, why didn't you tell us she was here?!"

"We've missed you so much!"

Suddenly there's a mini stampede of my bandmates, their partners, and some of our crew, all encircling us. It's a mess of limbs and excitement, and I'm pushed back from my girlfriend unwillingly. Everyone else now gets to feel just how frail she is.

Orion is grinning now, a fake smile plastered on her face while giving everyone hugs back and saying how happy she is to see them. Before I know it, Luke is picking her up and throwing her over his shoulder, carrying her inside. Everyone else follows. Orion giggles and tries to answer questions that everyone throws at her. They all are gone shortly, and I don't even realize that Ashton is still standing with me outside until he speaks.

"Alright, mate?" He asks, patting my back between my shoulders. When I lock eyes with him, he's sympathetic, as if he can tell something is wrong.

I don't know what's going on with Orion yet, so I don't want to start talking about it with Ashton. If it's an eating disorder, that's not something I can just share with him without her consent. As much as I want to describe what I just saw in my girlfriend and felt on her body, I can't tell him.

I clear my throat and plaster on a smile. "Yeah, just still in shock that she's here, I guess."

Ashton nods. “C’mon, let’s go save her.”

read next chapter

a/n: !!!!!!!!!!!! hi hope you liked this one!!!! drama is coming :) two cal pov's in a row who am i!!

[c-11-22]

i walked into solitary, the cushion room — slipped a black str8 jacket from sean’s closet on and asked him to fasten me up, then he left and i sat down, i would never see him again, he doesn’t turn back till his tires are spent, i sat down in the back corner of the room, and asked someone anyone to turn up the frequency of the silence to brain splitting levels, and then i watched goo leak from some orifice and drip onto the bridge of my nose and i just stayed there watching my brain and intuition drip out like a leaky faucet for maybe two weeks and now i’m outside and have no idea why the white stucco on the ceiling is sucking into itself after just one newport i take outside, i haven’t touched a newport since i was trying to keep up with r on set four years ago , where i experienced nicotine poisoning for the first time but he did hold me on the way back to soho after we wrapped, which i might’ve appreciated had i not smoked a pack in 90 minutes, it was an incapacitated REM level L, and i don’t smoke them unless i miss feeling so weak, unless i wanna feel like that baby again, but no i dont smoke them i dont have the heart for them, i just found one smashed in the bottom of my purse i left at my parents seven months ago, i allowed myself the indulgence. a dear friend on the other end of the phone call just said grazie mille to the most toad like fantasia italian accent i think she’s in puglia and the exhibitor of the accent had handed her a midnight cigarette as she informed me she’s been crying in the shower and laughing by the time she dries off every day she’s been in puglia, she stumbled upon a man in a car getting his dick sucked by a woman in his car, in front of the church, which she was sitting in front of, but at some point i believe she got up and started pacing around the cobblestone, as i was, in my own non cobblestone la alleyway, while we were talking and processing did u process it “” or at least i like to think of her doing so, us walking the same, but maybe if i were in puglia and not southern california i’d be looking straight and up and around, not so much ahead and down. imiss her and things, it’s been hard to hug my mom, my sister, i didn’t intend to be here right now, but i am here right now, i’ll try to hug my sister tonight and my mom tomorrow. i know i’ll miss the chance when i miss the chance and leave back to ny, i wish i didn’t feel a tinge of agony hugging my blood family but they wouldn’t be my relatives if it didn’t

the cigarette i took smelled like upstate still and it tasted like the way i felt in july of 2019, angry, which means alive, grateful for a taste. i took it while dodging my mothers forty fifth ceremony for yet another fissured bong she tipped over while stretching to fix a flower pot on the steps. weed is allowed recreationally so, though it’s illegal to smoke anywhere outside here. the whole town, just like plastic bags. but the teenagers ride on their e bikes and suck them vapes down and eat the core like i do my apples— only if their sticker starts with 9 otherwise i leave about a half inch around the core before i flick it away. i flick him away. so illegal that the inflated tits stuck to the speedwalking moms, speedwalking by my pacing, glare at me. mine aren’t inflated but they scowl back , i shrug and suck it down. i’ve always been paranoid here, it’s because my hair always been different and that difference permeated everything and now i’m less meek maybe a bit brash , so it causes problems . my step is a step my resentfulness fed direct to confidence around these people, so it causes problems

but why does the stucco do that? i’m trying to rest and keep my eyes open, i’m trying to let him make his way out my head, he’s good at keeping his things with his things but i’ve asked him to double check thrice. why is the ceiling moving like this after the newport. it was suppose to sage him out. why is it dancing when i feel like sinking into the bed past the floor dropping down another level and seeping into the carpet down another level into the rubble and further till i reach ocean and then rock and then rock and then past that my brain is too hot to register? i already feel this way now but instead of hot i’m feeling neutral, a dry ice temperature, a burn im seeing but can’t place when i was touched

jimi hendrix and bob marley played soccer together on a chance encounter in greenwich two years before jimi was found dead by asphyxia. i was reading into the reopened case being closed on the grounds that much time had passed after his death, it’d be no service to the public to take another look. i don’t know, who’s to know, but why did she feel the need to recall her recollection in different ways excluding big clumps and including pipe cleaners and camouflage mesh in certain points. it was dry. the vomit was dry. i’m writing this from the rocks stage left of ziggy marleys performance with the orchestra, people are dancing and they seem happy

[romeoandjulietyouwish]

Chapter 3: Friend and Foe (Wildfires to Rain Storms

Chapter 1

The night continues on during the thunderstorm. The rain is the backdrop of hours of conversation through  increasingly staticky radio waves. Vex’s throat grows sore from talking and yet she can’t find it in herself to stop. She and Percy don’t talk about anything important, nothing serious in the slightest. 

Vex sits in her chair, feet curled under her and a blanket draped over her legs. Every now and then she’ll look over at Percy’s tower, the glowing light through the storm, and wonder if he feels just at ease as she does.

But as all storms do, it ends. In the early hours of morning, just when Vex’s eyelids are starting to grow heavy, the torrent of rain on the roof lets up to soft patters. 

“The storm is moving away,” Percy tells her through the radio. “Get some sleep, Vex’ahlia.”

She yawns, pushing her hair out of her face, “Alright, darling. Talk tomorrow?”

“I look forward to it. Over and out.”

As the radio grows silent, Vex forces herself into her cozy bed, tucking herself under a stack of blankets. Within moments, she’s fast asleep, Percy’s voice lingering in her head.

The morning comes far too quickly for her liking. 

Exhaustion lies heavy in her bones as she moves broken tree branches away from her tower and checks over all her equipment to make sure nothing was damaged. The wooden steps of her tower are slick and mud covers her to her knees by mid-morning.

The thick scent of humidity that comes after rain surrounds her like a warm blanket. It creeps into her nose and lungs, as though trying to make her part of the earth and the air. These early mornings after rain are always such treasured memories. The nature around her always feels more present in a way that she isn’t sure she could ever explain to anyone else.

After taking a shower to clean herself of the mud, she heads back inside to the tower for lunch. As she’s eating, she pushes her chair over and grabs her radio from its charging port.

“Percy? You there?” Vex asks into her radio, kicking her feet up onto the table. “I am incredibly bored.”

Percy’s response comes after a few moments, “Don’t you have chores to do?”

Vex sighs, taking a bite of her sandwich. “I’ve already finished them. And it is far too muddy to go for a hike right now.”

Percy laughs, “So I am your third best option?”

“Naturally,” Vex laughs. “What are you doing, darling?”

Percy sighs, “Trying to fix the leak in the roof. Yesterday’s rain made me very aware of it.”

Vex chuckles, “You’re quite the handyman, aren’t you? What’s next after the roof?”

“Squeaky window, then the rickety step and a section of the railing I’m sure is going to give out any second. I’m something of a tinkerer, I suppose. I don’t have any of my tools here so the best thing I can do to keep my hands busy is to fix up the tower.”

“If you ever feel like walking seven hours to come visit me, you could fix my sink. Half the time it doesn’t even work.” Vex bites her tongue to keep back flirty innuendos. As much as she enjoys teasing him, it’s so much more fun to see blush than to hear it. Besides, she doesn’t want to scare him off so instead she changes the subject, “Forest services will need an update on the wildfire after the rain. I’ll hike out to the ridge later today and take a look.”

“Don’t get too close,” Percy warns her.

Vex rolls her eyes, “I know, you forget I’ve done this kind of thing before.”

“Yes, yes, I know. I just…worry.”

Vex fights to suppress a smile, “Your worry is appreciated but unwarranted. I’ll let you know what I see when I get there.”

Finish reading on ao3

[delfiore]

—HALLEY'S COMET.

pairing: lia wälti x reader

synopsis: your complicated relationship with your teammate after you fell into bed together to help her forget about her ex.

word count: 3.2k

a/n: lia my peach princess my god she’s so pretty 😭 wow so uh... hi guys lol. i'm sorry i disappeared for a month, i haven't been doing so well mentally to be quite frank with you, but i'm really stoked to have finished this!! i’ll try to be more consistent with my uploads 😬

It started like any other time . . . or maybe this was how it ended.

How extraordinary that time was no constant force, but rather elastic and fluctuating according to the perceiver. The light of the sun outside the windowsill was beginning to force its way through. And in a fleeting moment, your bedroom might have gotten a smidge brighter, but you felt like you’d been here for millennia.

You lay still, head half-buried into the pillow, like a wildlife photographer camouflaged into their environment to capture the perfect shot of an endangered species.

She lay still, turned away from you, but still sound asleep without a care in the world. You caught a glimpse of the tattoo behind her earlobe, that you took a lot of care to kiss and caress just a few hours before. The sun was up, and you could see the end of your bliss nearing.

You almost missed the fluttering of her eyes as sleep enveloped you again. Her movements sobered you, her body stretched for a moment along the length the bed. You found it laughable that you had been up for hours and you managed to stay still so she could sleep, yet she could not extend the same courtesy to you.

It was plain and simple, you thought, right in front of your eyes, yet you chose to ignore it time and time again for the illusion of love.

“Good morning.”

“What time is it?” She grumbled and rubbed at her eyes.

“Seven.” You offered a smile.

Your teammate was a creature of habit. Sometimes you commended her for being able to wake up at the crack of dawn almost every day, while you struggled to do so. Though you supposed spending intimate hours with her had rubbed off on you a bit, albeit not as much as you’d had hoped.

“We have a team meeting today.” She reminded herself.

“Not until 2pm,” you said. “Plenty of time.”

“To lounge around, sure. I’d like to get a workout in.”

“Ouch. I’m hurt you don’t want to spend time with me,” you clicked your tongue. “As I recall, you seemed to enjoy it so much last night.”

This elicited a chuckle from her, as she stroked your chin teasingly. “Aren’t you just so modest?”

A smirk rose onto your lips. “What?” She asked.

“I’m just looking at you,” you grinned, making her roll her eyes.

You had watched her get ready to leave a thousand times that you could recite her routine as she did it; a glass of water, then straight to the bathroom, leaving her clothes wherever she had left them. When she emerged from the bathroom, having brushed her teeth and occasionally a shower, the clothes came on last. Then, it was as if the previous night never happened.

And there was always that little ache in your chest whenever she gave you a wave and a “See you later.” As time passed though, it gets a bit easier to bare, but never completely benign. You learned to live it because having her only in the dead of night was better than not having her at all.

You two were only teammates, not even friends. Without this, you had nothing with her.

This thing between you had been dragging on for months, and yet she never reciprocate your affection. She was still hung up on her ex, their breakup having never sat well with her. You only knew because she confided in you one night, and that was the one time she ever did.

She still came back night after night like a fiend looking for her fix, and you were always happy to provide it. Those were the only times that you could show her what she was missing out on, kissing her, touching her, making her feel things that were most definitely unprofessional of teammates to do. Your sheets smelled like her and, sometimes when you wore your clothes to training, they smelled like her too. As much as she was looking for her fix, you did the same in her.

It was always passion with Lia; from the moment she stepped into your apartment, pushing you against the wall, until you both were satisfied with each other in bed, and everything in between. Kissing her lips slowly, you savored every bit of herself she let you have. Her skin was warm to the touch, slightly damp in some places, which you were proud to have claimed credit for. She always repaid your effort with a fleeting embrace, but tonight, she held you close to her chest, gliding her fingers across your back, her mouth hovering over your forehead.

“Are you coming with to the club tomorrow?”

“Maybe. Why?” You huffed, the warmth of her chest lulling you to sleep.

“Can I ask you for a favor?”

Somewhere along you had half-expected it. Lia had left you stranded in this arrangement to fend for yourself, so maybe you wouldn’t put it past her to use it to her advantage too. The party was the perfect opportunity for you to let off some steam, but you were expected to do that by her side the entire night. It hurt because it wasn’t real, but you could pretend for one night that it was. With her arms around your neck, her lips dangerously close to yours, your bodies colliding in ways they normally only would in the privacy of your bedroom, the deafening music drowned out every bit of self-respect you had left.

You were fairly buzzed halfway through the night; it was the only way you could go through with this charade. Lia looked like she was having fun too, occasionally glancing over at her ex-girlfriend, gauging for a reaction.

“Another drink?” She asked you. Offering a half-smile, you nodded.

She moved to walk away, but you clasped your fingers around the soft skin of her wrist. You kissed her with a drunken but sincere desperation. When you pulled away, her surprise didn’t go unnoticed.

You held her gaze for a moment before darting your eyes behind her towards Caitlin, who had definitely seen what you just did.

Lia’s mouth pulled into a grin before she left.

“So you and Wally, eh?”

You were sure it looked plain and simple from the outside. You were deliberate with your actions for all to see.

You simply grinned at Manu and shrugged.

“How long?”

“A few months.”

“Months?” Your teammate whistled. “You’re tight-lipped, aren’t you? When I first started dating my wife, all I wanted to do was to shout to the world that she was mine and I was hers.”

“I’m sure you did.” You chuckled. “Lia likes her privacy.”

“So she does.” Manu said and squeezed your shoulder. “Good on you, Y/N. Enjoy it. After everything has passed and crumbled around your feet, love is the only thing you’ll have left.”

Just then, Lia returned with your drink. When she pecked you on the cheek, Manu took that as her cue to leave, but not without throwing a knowing look your way.

You couldn’t help but look at her and only her. The façade started to feel so real, and you found yourself daring to imagine what it would be like if it was. She wrapped her arms around your neck again and kissed you softly. But then your bubble burst when you realized what her priorities were. “I think it’s working,” she said.

You nodded and smiled like a fool, and danced until your feet numb to distract yourself from the ache tightening in your chest.

It was laughable how simply you played into her hands. You wanted to hate her, maybe then it would be easier, but it was your fault anyway. You fucked up. The arrangement was simple, and yet you fell for her anyway. You fell for everything that she was outside of your bedroom; kind, sweet, funny, and so dedicated to what she does. You supposed anyone would say that about the person one liked, but it was all true in Lia’s instance.

You fucked up, but you couldn’t help it. Hers was the sweet taste of hell from the soft touches of an angel. Even when her nectar turns into poison, you would rather bear it than not have any at all. It meant she still cared at least.

The match was going swimmingly with Arsenal having a one-goal advantage, but the opposition was relentless and you were their latest victim. When you watched the replay after the game, you cringed because it looked like you had been flipped over in a wrestling match. You remembered Katie shoving the girl and giving her a piece of her mind, and several of your teammates crowing over you.

“Y/N. Are you okay? Can you stand?”

Would it have been bad for you to insist on Lia doting on you? Maybe, but she did. Your knee felt awkward, but no pain. Lia was by your side, though, holding your hand and giving you water.

“I think I’m okay.” You had seen her sigh in relief as you stood up and walk towards the fourth official.

She must have seen you in the physio room with Leah earlier. Leah was sweet, but you could never pick her over Lia, even when she made you feel wanted. It seemed the slightest touch from anyone made you turn your head nowadays.

You found out that Lia becomes rough when she’s jealous, like she had something to prove. You were sore by the end of the night, but satisfied. In the dark, you felt her body and pulled her close.

“What’s wrong?” You asked.

“Nothing.” She shrugged, but didn’t quite meet your eye.

“Come on, tell me.” You coaxed, kissing her shoulder. “Pleeeease . . . Wallyyyy . . .”

“It’s stupid.”

“No, it’s not.” Threading your fingers through her hair, you wished she would just be transparent with you, maybe things would be different. “Not if it’s upsetting you.”

“Today, in the rehab room,” she started. “You and . . . Ugh, I told you it was stupid.”

“Are you jealous?” You grinned.

“No.”

Your grin grew wider. “You are.”

Any chance you got to have the upper hand, you seized it. She scoffed and began to get out of bed when you held her back. “Let me go,” she seethed, but you held her firmly, your hands grasping her shoulders, making her look at you.

“There’s only you, Wally.”

It was curt and simple because you stopped yourself. If only she knew how much you loved her.

Even the most resilient people need reassurance sometimes, it’s only human.

“She’s dating someone else.”

You knew. You had heard from some of the girls, and maybe even from the ‘culprit’ herself about it. Katie was an open book, and with the smallest bit of prodding, you found out that she had been seeing Caitlin, and for quite some time now.

“I-I don’t know what to do.”

“You can start by sitting down.” Lia had come over much earlier than she normally would, and you had a feeling this was why. Defeated, she took a seat at the far side of the couch, pulling her legs up to her chest. You took this opportunity to scoot closer and put a reassuring hand on her knee.

“Hey, it’s okay.” You said quietly, grasping her shoulders once you realized she had begun to cry. “I know you love her, and I know that it hurts right now, but you’ll be okay. It won’t last forever.”

Lia didn’t reply, but grasped the hand that was on her shoulder and cradled it. You hated seeing her like this, and you hated Caitlin even more for hurting her, but some twisted parts inside you were still glad that your Australian teammate was out of the picture.

“At least you still have me, right?”

This couldn’t have been good for your health, constantly coming around, begging for scraps. She looked at you for a moment, but it was as if she was seeing through you; she looked lost and so crestfallen. And when she buried her head in your neck, her tears wetting your skin and shirt collar, you felt rewarded. You would do this over and over again, simply because you loved her.

“Can I just . . . stay over? I-I don’t think I can do anything tonight—”

“Of course, yes, gosh. We’re not gonna do anything, Wally.” You lifted her chin to look at her, and placed a chaste kiss on her forehead. “You can stay as long as you’d like. I’ll talk with you, I’ll listen, whatever you’d like me to do.”

“Thank you,” you heard her whisper.

You couldn’t help but smile as you pulled her closer, kissing her forehead, as her fingers found their way between yours. It felt much like the play-pretend that you did at the club, but this time you had a feeling it might have been genuine for her too.

You loved Lia; it was simple as that. The way you loved her was nothing short of insanity, your mind constantly plagued by thoughts of her and your body always itching to touch her.

After that night, everything shifted. She started staying over more frequently, often opting to go out to have breakfast or making it herself for the both of you. She became much more deliberate with her physical affection around your teammates; a brush of the hand, a simple locking of arms, a kind gesture of fixing your hair.

She did all of it even while Caitlin wasn’t around. You might have been a bit biased, but you recognized the way she looked at you then; it was the same way you had been looking at her all this time.

“What are you grinning about, doofus?” Steph shoved her elbow into your side, as she craned her head trying to look at your phone screen.

“Who’s the secret Valentine, Y/N?” Asked Kyra with a teasing smile.

“Please, we all know who it is. As if they haven’t been so obvious,” Lotte snickered.

“Guys, stop, please.” You whined, clutching your phone close to your chest, but you smiled because finally, there was something concrete that was just between the two of you.

Just then, Lia walked through the door, her searching eyes lighting up as soon as they found you.

“Oh,” Kyra said next to you before you heard giggles. They were worse than high school girls, it was beyond you.

“Ready to go?” Lia smiled and extended a hand to you.

“Please,” you grabbed it and hoisted yourself off your chair. “Anything to get away from this lot.”

As you walked out of the dining room, your teammates joined into a choir of discordant goodbyes, and you made a mental note to prepare yourself for the endless teasing the next time you see them.

Turns out, evenings with Lia could be quite relaxing. You didn’t know what you expected, but your nerves had fed you catastrophic scenarios of how a quiet night in with her could go horribly wrong. You were halfway into cooking dinner (well she was, and you were her moral support) and not only were things fine, you were having a good time.

“What’s on your mind, Liebling?” She asked, having checked the salmon baking in the oven.

You, sitting on the counter next to her, only shrugged, but your heart swelling at the nickname. You had been so used to holding your tongue, that the question caught you slightly off-guard.

“Wanna be my taster?”

You nodded, silently again, and watched as Lia a scoop a spoonful of sauce from the brewing pot and held it to your mouth. It was heavenly, of course. Lia was only much to suited for domestic tasks, and cooking was no exception. Aside from the fact that you were incredibly biased, you could recall the handful of times your teammates attesting to Lia’s cooking abilities when she had them over for dinner.

“It’s good.”

“That’s it?” She raised her eyebrows, grinning.

“It’s really good.”

She laughed and shook her head softly, tasting the sauce herself. “It’s so hard to get more than a sentence out of you these days, when you could never shut up before.”

You were set on a snarky remark back when the words died on your tongue, as she settle between your thighs, bringing your arms around her waist.

“What if . . . I tell you, and you’re not happy about it?”

“What if you tell me and I am happy about it?” Lia quipped. “It’s very unlike you to see the glass as half-empty.”

She was right. You were always the first to comfort your teammates even after a hard-hitting loss, telling them to look forward to the next one. Unlike some of them, though, you never seemed to have the same attitude when it came to yourself, particularly in your romantic life.

“I realized that I haven’t been the most . . . transparent with how I feel,” Lia sighed. “I was trying not to feel too much, because I was afraid it might affect my professional life. I didn’t know that it might have affected you too.”

You tightened your grip on her waist and drew a deep breath. “Well, I did sign up for it.”

“But you didn’t deserve it,” she stroked your cheek softly. “So, what did you want to tell me?”

“I want you all the time, Lia.” There it was, Pandora’s box opened. “My first thought when I wake up is of you, and my last before I go to sleep is you. I seem to be dreaming about you a lot too recently. Forget this conversation ever happened if you don’t feel the same, but Lia, I don’t think I can go on any longer without telling you that I’m in love with you.”

Your breath caught in your throat as her eyes searched yours for any sign of deceit. You hoped your body didn’t betray you while you wore your heart entirely on your sleeve, bearing your soul to her.

At the away game against West Ham a few months later, you had gotten into the habit of crossing the dressing room towards your girlfriend.

“Good luck today,” you stood in front of her.

“You too,” she smiled, and pulled you for a short kiss, earning a few ‘ooh’s from your teammates nearby. “Nervous?”

Shaking your head no, as you walked towards the tunnel together, hand-in-hand. The noise from the spectators grew louder, and once you were right beneath them in the tunnel, their synergy gave you a whole different level of life before the match.

Looking over to Lia, you grinned, realizing she was staring. “What?”

“Just looking at you,” she said with a teasing smile.

You blushed, overflowing, and kissed her.

[henqtic]

Whispers to the Couch

pairing: rafe cameron x pregnant!reader

summary: rafe continuing his routine of whispering to the baby in your stomach but with these, he gets sent to the couch. 

word count: 482. | warnings: pregnancy.

authors note: my back to school sleepover is open !

masterlist. // taglist form. // request works.

“oh and your mommy’s a real mean lady,” rafe whispered in a hushed tone just loud enough for both the baby in your stomach, soon to come out, and your ears to hear— a hand immediately coming down to swat at the blond strands of hair.

this had become your routine a long time ago, seven and half months to be exact when you first broke the news to rafe that you were finally pregnant after some long months of trying.

it made a soft smile come on your face the first few times, simply lying down after a shower— staying up a few minutes longer as you waited for him to get out so that you could fall asleep together.

but instead of him coming right next to you and wrapping his arms around your waist as he always would, he went face level with your stomach that wasn't showing a sign of anything, whispering sweet nothings and promises into the place. and now well, he’d talk into it as if the small person residing inside couldn't pick up on speech patterns. 

“don't say that, i don’t want them coming out and thinking of me as some evil person,” you scolded lightly, narrowing your eyes down at him as he did the same in challenge— dipping back down but closer by the smallest amount so that his lips would brush across the bump as he talked. 

“terrible really, she wouldn't even let me have any of the chocolates she made me get up at two in the mor—”

“continue that sentence and you’re sleeping on the couch.”

your threat was laced with playfulness, still planning on keeping true to it but remembering the hurt in his eyes when you snatched the bag away from his hands— they were both of your favorites but only one of you was the one with constant cravings and extra pounds of weight killing their back. 

and either way, you still wouldn't have given them up if the circumstances were any different. but being the nice person you were, you reached underneath the plush pillow to get the treats out— interrupted by his whispers.

“two in the morning baby, can you believe that? most selfish thing i’ve ever seen if you ask me. don’t worry, i’ll teach you to never be like that.”

“know what, tell me how good the couch feels rafe,” you smiled, opening up one of the small packages and stuffing it into your mouth, scrunching your nose up at him as he groaned at being caught— grabbing a nearby pillow and trudging out of the room. 

“i was speaking the truth, you’ll forgive me at some point,” he shrugged, leaning on the outside of the door like you were going to take anything back and allow him in. 

“and it won’t be tonight, go on, i love having the bed to myself.”

🔖—!! @darklingbrekksov​ @lieswithoutfairytales​ @badbussylol​ @lieswithoutfairytales​ @a-bolanos​ @vinniehcker @drewstarkeysbitchh​ @supernaturallydc-blog​ @victoriadeangeliswifey​ @nehireerdogan @canibeoneofthepogues​ @clearbolts​ @urskaa​ @i-love-scott-mccall​ @wolfstar-lb @pogueslandia​ @jemimah-b99​ @joeybslut @jellyddog @hhishho  

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[wishesunderthestars]

Eunoia // Ch. 14

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

Pairings: Hybrid! BTS x reader

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

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

Word Count: 15k+

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

Masterlist

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

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

The taglist is now closed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Open,” you called.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“When?” Namjoon asked.

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

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

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

You couldn’t skip another event.

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

“I could come with you,” Namjoon offered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You giggled as you separated.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“For me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Another one to add to the list.

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

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

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

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

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

"You won't catch me complaining."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Five,” you said.

He had been sleeping for more than three hours.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” you asked.

He sniffed at the air. “You…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How did you learn of it?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“He is.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Goodnight.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why should I believe you?” Yoongi growled.

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

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

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

“I’m not who you think I am.”

“You don’t know what I think.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The moon had no answers for you.

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

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

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

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

“I could ask you the same thing.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But they are my parents.”

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

“They aren’t bad people.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you want to?” he asked carefully.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Please comment and reblog it motivates me to keep writing

[kira-fluff]

Heeey!

Saeyoung, Yoosung, Jumin and Zen reacting to to “hotel only one bed” trope ? ♥️

a/n: of course you can lovely! <3 *AHEM* Lemme just say this trope is ELITE and I will NEVER not love it // also, i’m writing it like it’s before they’re dating (OF COURSE) because I want it to be spicy (actually that’s the only thing that would make sense for this prompt but you get my point whatever). ALSO also I’m basing the fancy hotel off my stay at the Ritz Carlton (it was like $25,000 a night) because my grandma couldn’t manage money N E WAYSS. Also, if y’all could let me know whether you prefer Y/N to MC pls lmk k thx 

TW: drunk old lady w/no filter, gets pretty suggestive because I couldn’t help myself, an overbearing aunt, savage Italians, and loud hotel neighbor 

Note: omfg i accidentally made this so long oh well here’s yo present lmao 

“There’s only one bed” PT.1 PT.2

- 

Saeyoung 

Getaway missions are mad cool until you can’t sleep 

When you finally neared the parking entrance to your hotel you were SO looking forward to taking a nice hot shower before shimming into the covers of your crisp, (clean, you hoped) sheets. 

It was past 3AM when Saeyoung finally drove his elegant vehicular device (because what other word is there for it) into a secured parking space 

“Because I don’t trust those shady valets, y/n.” 

“Whatever you say, Seven”, you replied groggily. 

You hauled ass up to the front desk, then to the elevator of the exquisite hotel you were staying at

not that you cared 

because S L E E P 

but Saeyoung likes to quote Jurassic Park (because of course he does) like “I spare no expense, y/n” 

“I’m too tired to laugh” 

*gASP* 

“Not everyone naturally stays up until the early morning light before going to sleep.” 

“It really should become a thing, it’s honestly very iconic of me.” (it’s not)

By the time your conversation ended you were glad to see your hotel number and a little key card slot. 

Saeyoung made a show of sticking the key card in like a spy or something 

it was funny for normal y/n but not for tired y/n 

“Here’s your room, M’lady.” 

He held the door open to your room as you looked around the room 

a large, lush bed set before a ginormous flat screen TV with complimentary expensive chocolates laid before you as well as complimentary take-home elegant towels and slippers. 

suddenly, you heard a knock on the door 

blinking in confusion, you opened to see it was Saeyoung 

“Um.. hey! What’s up?” 

Saeyoung looked a bit bewildered himself before saying, 

“Hey, so, I realized my key card was the same room number as yours and I was like ‘That’s weird!’ so I called the front desk who verified that I had placed a reservation for one room, not two, so I hacked into their system to see what went wrong and if I could change it but it looks like they’re completely booked and I think I had made the reservation before I knew that you had to come along and I’m so sorry” 

he was breathless after the mouthful he just gave you 

As it was 3AM a drunk, old woman was tripping her way to her room and shouted much louder than she should at 3AM, “Kiss her already n’ fuck, ya youngin’s!” 

Saeyoung’s hair now matched his face :) 

His ears were tipped bright red before coughing awkwardly 

“I can sleep on the ground. I’ve done it plenty of times, it’s actually pretty comfy.” 

“Um, Sev’ I’m not going to make you just sleep on the floor. If you want--” 

“You’re not making me, y/n, I want to do this” 

“Actually I think I’ll sleep on the floor, I sleep a lot better on the ground”, you fibbed. 

“You’re sleeping on that big ass bed.” 

“No you are.” 

“If you don’t listen I’ll sleep in the bath tub instead of the floor.” 

“Then I’LL sleep outside the room!” 

“LIKE HELL YOU WILL!” 

“WATCH ME” 

the phone rang, a worker politely asking you to quiet a bit down because even with your luxurious privacy walls, guests could still hear you arguing. 

Saeyoung began whisper shouting, “Guess that settles it.” 

he plopped on the ground, fake snoring with his arm as a pillow

you sighed 

“Fine, if neither of us are going to agree to this then we are both going to sleep in this bed.” 

Saeyoung blushed lightly at your boldness, a tad worried you’d find him creepy or weird

You started again, beginning to undress a little, causing Seven to yelp in panic and turn around immediately, shielding his eyes,

Now in your tank top and your leggings you’d been wearing under sweatpants and a t-shirt, you said, “I’m gonna go take a quick shower and go to bed. I’m so tired.” 

Seven turned around only when he’d heard the bathroom door shut 

he sighed, What am I going to do with this girl. 

By the time you’d come out of the bathroom, drying your wet hair, Seven was lying on the bed, clad in casual t-shirt and jeans. 

“Come on, Saeyoung, you have comfy clothes! It’s okay, change! I’m done in the bathroom now.” 

“Nah, this is fine.” This was not fine. Saeyoung was out of his area of expertise of expecting the unexpected because God you were so unpredictable. 

“Please” you jutted out your bottom lip in a little pout, being sure to make eye contact with him 

Something glowered in his eyes for a split second before he half-smiled saying, “Ah, little Y/n, you know I can’t say no to you when you go all sad on me.” 

He stepped into the bathroom to change, but let’s be honest. He was freaking the fuck out. 

he covered his flushed face, changing into his soft sweatpants and a cozy sweatshirt. he was scared 

the more comfortable he became the more likely he’d accidentally get closer to you and then you’d freak out because you’d hear the sound of his heart beat like it’s a fucking rave concert and then you’d be weirded forever and quite possibly never talk to him again

but on the outside, he stepped out of the bathroom, whipping his phone out with a huge smirk saying, “Smile” 

you threw up a peace sign with your tongue sticking out 

he laughed before sending it to the RFA chat 

707: Sleepover lolol [see attachment]

immediately both your phones blew up with buzzes of notifications from the chat 

you laughed lightly, brushing a stray hair from your face to tuck it behind your ear 

this was gonna be a long night for Seven. 

Zen: UGH get away from her!!!!!!!!!111!!1!!

Jumin: Maybe you should learn to type first. 

Zen: shut it cat freak

Zen: seven answer 

Zen: hey 

Zen: y/n, text “qwerty” if you’re in any kind of danger 

Jumin: What a strange code. 

You: qwerty :(

707: lololololol

Zen: !!!!!

Zen: ASJDHKJFASHFKJA 

Jumin: -_- 

Zen: WE NEED A CAR, NO A HELICOPTER im omw!! 

You: just kidding <3 i’m fine you guys 

707: lololol 

Jumin: Have a bit more faith in your subordinates, Zen. 

You closed the chat and muted your phone, expecting the incoming argument that was quickly to ensue. 

You patted the bed lightly, ushering Saeyoung to lie down next to you. 

He obliged, though he politely laid at the far edge of the left side of the bed. 

You yawned before shutting the light off and whispering a “good night”. 

Saeyoung glanced at the clock. 4AM. Only 15 minutes had passed. You were breathing softly in your sleep within the 10 minutes after you’d said goodnight and here he was still awake. 

You suddenly tousled in your sleep, and Saeyoung raised his head, whispering a soft, “Did I wake you up?” 

You replied with a soft moan before abruptly turning left onto his corner of the bed and grabbing for the first thing you’d felt -- his torso. 

Saeyoung’s breath hitched as he felt you exploring the new found “object”, running your fingers up and down his torso and nearing dangerous areas below 

Saeyoung whisper-shouted, “What are you doing?” 

He leaned closer to hear your reply, but your only answer was more soft little snores 

Saeyoung sighed, trying to lightly grab your wrists without waking you up, and directing toward yourself

no matter how hard he’d try, your arms kept finding his own

your nails would softly ghost over his chest or neck, causing him to shiver and blush profusely 

again, he sighed, trying his hardest not to give into your sleepy state 

until you broke him with a soft utterance, “Sae....young..” 

Saeyoung’s eyes widened to the size of saucers before he dared to look down at you, your hair curling on the bed every which-way.. your mouth slightly agap... 

he groaned, his brows furrowed and his eyes shut

at last he slunk his arms around your torso, being sure to respectfully keep them high around your waist 

he buried his face in the crook of your neck to subconsciously try to hide his ever growing blush (and erection) 

I don’t know how much longer I can keep doing this ‘friend’ thing when you’re driving me this crazy, y/n.

You awoke to a sleeping Saeyoung, his toned arms enveloping your small body in a hug

shamelessly, you laid still for a few moments longer. 

Yoosung 

this bean is lonely uwu

so when he’d invited to you go with him on a trip his uncle had paid for, you felt bad saying “yes” because it’s a paid trip!! 

until he begged you because his cousin Chaewon would be there and he was always really pushy and borderline a huge fuck boi 

so you conceded 

but hey free trip for the both of you minus shitty family gatherings with no one you know, right?! 

you hope there’s at least one dog. and alcohol. 

dog + alcohol at a party = an actual fun fucking time 

you were glad Yoosung was there with you because he honestly couldn’t agree with you more 

You opened your beach-side resort room to find there’s only one bed. 

Yoosung blanched and quickly dialed his auntie, who’d made the resort reservations

“Ah...hi auntie! Um, how come there isn’t a separate room for me and y/n?” 

his aunt cackled into the phone, “Aren’t you an old fashioned little gentlemen!!! Awe~~~ you’ve grown up to be such a good boy! <3 Well don’t worry, I won’t say a word to my sister or your pops. Enjoy the time you have with your adorable girlfriend and get it on a little!! I’ve got condoms if ya need ‘em honey~~ Remember dearie, when the shlong is not covered, the child support better be.” 

Yoosung hurriedly hung up the phone, his face completely red, praying you hadn’t heard the conversation that’d just ensued. 

You did 

but you smile and say, “So.. what’d they say?” 

He cleared his throat before saying, “Well, --err.. Basically there’s been a little mishap. B-but don’t worry!! I can just ask Chaewon if I can spend the night in his room.” 

“Didn’t you say he leaves a sock on the door handle every time--”

“YES but I want you to be comfortable, okay! It’s really not a big deal.” 

You shyly smiled while looking down before softly saying, “You can sleep with me.” 

Yoosung’s eyes widened and you quickly looked up, your face flushing to a deep crimson 

“I-I-I meant in the bed!!! With me. We can lie together. In the bed---- I mean we--” 

Yoosung could practically see the steam coming out of your ears and the room felt a LOT hotter 

“S-sure! Sounds great.” he had a feeling if you didn’t agree you’d end up embarrassing yourself further.. and he didn’t want you to feel bad. And he didn’t want those thoughts circulating his mind again. 

“Alright, so I’m going to hop in the shower, y/n... unless you want to go first?”

Gulping down some complimentary water you’d found in the hotel mini fridge, you quickly replied with a shake of your head. 

Nodding, Yoosung make quick work of washing his hair and trying to give himself a pep talk before he would be sleeping next to you. 

Thankful for the big size of the resort bed, you climbed under the covers, already beginning to feel sleep take you 

When Yoosung had at last dried himself off and walked out to the bed area of the resort room, he gazed at how small you looked, hugging a soft pillow in your arms, your eyes fluttered shut 

He looked away, feeling like a creep. 

He shut off the light after making a call to the resort staff to wake him up at 8AM as directed by his uncle’s itinerary

He slid under the covers, shoving a pillow in between the two of you as a little border to separate the two of you 

it wasn’t until further in the night when Yoosung had felt a jolt and he looked up in panic, through the blackness recognizing the pillow-border had been cast onto the ground 

and even more noticeably, your leg was swung over his hip, your body flush to his own 

your arms were snaked around his neck

he felt like he could feel every inch of you

your soft breath just below his ear 

your soft .. er.. chest... against his torso 

your stomach and .. the rest of it... against his own 

Yoosung could not breathe

like someone actually help this man for he is losing oxygen by the minute 

He squeezed his eyes shut and make the executive decision to wait it out til morning 

he was terrified that if he’d move you, you’d wake up and see just how much you affect him. 

And so, when the phone rang that morning, you’d startled, looking up to see your tangled limbs lying on top of his own

“oH MY GOD I’M SO SORRY YOOSUNG UGH IT’S A HABIT OF MINE AHAHHSAHDAJSHS” 

he looked at you with eyes that had noticeable circles under them (darker than even after his LOLOL gaming) 

“you look like you didn’t sleep much.... --- Is it because of me!? Oh my god I’m so sorry you should’ve just shoved me off or something seriously I didn’t mean to do it on purpose, honest!!” 

“N-no, no it’s really not!! I promise!!” He tried his best to grin, though it probably looked like a grimace, because the next thing you said was, “I’ll make it up to you” 

“You don’t need to do that. Really, I liked it.” 

It took a moment for him to realize what he just said. 

“I-I mean I like you! I mean I liked sleeping with you!!! I mean--!!” 

Yoosung was quickly spinning circles in his mind 

you couldn’t help the little giggle that came out of your mouth, “I guess we’re pretty similar, huh?” 

Yoosung smiled lightly, “Yeah, guess so.” 

You walked out together toward the breakfast area of the resort

“Hey”, you started, “Is.. Did you mean what you said? About liking me?” 

Yoosung glanced away, taking a deep breath before saying, “Yeah, yeah I did. I really like you.” 

You couldn’t hold back the big ol’ smile that took over your face as you proudly declared, “Me too!!” 

Right when Yoosung was going to go in for a kiss, he saw his auntie suddenly right next to the both of you 

“Oh my GOD when did you get here?!” 

She smirked, “My question first, dearie, what did you two like?” 

Neither of you answered, your cheeks growing red 

“You know, the first time your uncle did it with me I felt the same way. Like, what a man! Must run in the fam--” 

“OKAY! THANK YOU FOR THAT AUNTIE BUT BREAKFAST IS CALLING MY NAME MM SMELLS GOOD SEE YOU LATER.” 

Your blush didn’t leave you as you smeared strawberry cream cheese on your toasted bagel 

This trip was going to be very VERY difficult. Thank God there was alcohol. And Yoosung. And probably dogs. And Yoosung. 

Yeah. 

Gotta love relatives. 

Jumin 

You received a call from a stern voice you didn’t recognize

<<“Hello. This is Mr. Han’s chauffeur. I’m approximately 6.3 miles away from your residence. Do not worry about clothes or other necessities. All will be provided for you.”>>

“Uh.. thanks? Where....?” 

<<“Mr. Han has invited you to join him on his stay at the Ppalgan Vineyard Estates. Have you not received the notification?”>>

You glanced at your phone, seeing two unread messages on your phone. 

You read them, feeling bad you hadn’t seen them before. 

“Yes, yes of course. Thank you. Tell him I said thank you. Are you sure it’s okay for me to attend?” 

<<“Miss Y/L/N, Mr. Han gave me specific instructions to assure you would be able to come with him. I have been ordered to give 2 minute updates following your being picked up. I can assure you, it is his utmost wish that you join him this weekend. I’d be honored to thank him on your behalf, though I feel it would mean much more to him if you said it to him rather than me.” >>

“You’re right, thank you. And thanks for driving me. And for all the other stuff you said”, you replied nervously. 

<<”There is no need to thank me, Miss. I am glad to serve Mr. Han in anyway I can.”>>

The call hung up before you could spout out more thank yous 

you phone buzzed, startling you. 

you clicked the notification

<<(XXX-XXX-XXXX HAN COMPANIES) I’ve arrived at your residence. Let me know if there is anything I can carry for you. Sent 13:52>>

You quickly texted a reply of gratitude before rushing down the stairs out of your apartment, not wanting to make Jumin’s chauffeur wait. 

“Good to see you Miss Y/L/N. Is there anything I can get you? I have been given orders to purchase anything you may want or need on our way to the airport.” 

He quickly texted something on his phone, presumably a text to Jumin about your safe arrival to his limo.

“A-airport? You mean, like, flying? Are you sure I don’t need my wallet? It’s not too late for me to go grab it, right? I have my debit card on my phone too, otherwise.” 

“Miss Y/L/N you are not to spent a single won on this vacation. All is paid for.” 

“But my clothes... I don’t want Jumin to have to pay for all new things!!” 

"I assure you, money is not something Mr. Han wishes for you to be concerned with.” 

You’d stayed silent at that, feeling bad that you’d already bothered the poor man who’d just been ordered to drive you, not reassure you of Jumin’s financial affairs. 

You grew quiet, looking out the window as trees, streets, and cars zoomed past you. 

“If you so wish, there are numerous meals options in the compartments below the seats as well as alcohol, carbonated beverages and iced water glasses. You are, of course, welcome to any of these. Please do not hesitate to notify me if there is something you’d like instead. We’d glad to make it a regular option in all of our limousines.” 

You flushed, embarrassed at the amount of power Jumin’s words, and effectively, your own seemed to have on the entire Han Conglomerate as a whole. You laughed a little, it was funny thinking to yourself that you had so much power as to decide snack options for Jumin’s cars. 

Jumin was extra like that, he always went above and beyond to make you comfortable. You loved that about him. It made you feel a little spoiled, so you instinctively rejected most offers at things that seemed to further complicate his worker’s duties. 

You had no idea that when the chauffeur had said airport he meant the Han Private Airway Transportation Zone. 

As in... private jet. 

It was hard not to feel like you were in a whole different world. 

Not that Jumin treated you that way... but it was hard not to notice! 

You bowed in thanks to the driver before hastily finding your way to the nearest man standing in another black suit, his hands folded together in front of him. 

As soon as you uttered your name, his whole demeanor changed and he instantly had gone from cool and collected to humble and overwhelmingly kind. 

He’d quickly made his way to the boarding area, escorting you to the jet before leaving you at a polite distance way from Jumin who’d been looking at you from the moment you’d entered the aircraft. 

His eyes searched your own as you’d yet to discover his presence 

He couldn’t help but rake his eyes up and down your body, admiring the way you could look just in anything. 

He at last saw you searching the spacious cabin, at last laying eyes on him. 

His heart pounded faster, as if your noticing him made his heart leap in joy

You looked relieved and smiled, running over to him and sitting down next to him 

“Hi Jumin!! Oh, should I be calling you Mr. Han? That’s what your chauffeur called you.. sorry if that’s what I should’ve been addressing you as!!” 

His deep voice rumbled in your ear, causing you to shudder, “Jumin is fine.” 

You gazed up at him through your lashes, noticing the way his perfectly tailored vest made him look so... well... for lack of better word...hot. 

“Wow. You look...” Your eyes moved from his hair, to his face, to his neck, to his torso, slowly to his groin, to his legs... before you realized what you’d been doing and quickly your eyes shot up again. 

You bit your lip, “You look nice.” 

“Nice?” 

You laughed shyly, and slightly (embarrassingly) breathless, “Yeah. Yeah you do. Nice.” 

Jumin couldn’t help the sly smile he’d been holding back before replying, “You look beautiful.” 

You flushed and looked down, squirming in your seat a little before looking at him once more, offering a small, “..thank you..” 

After a few minutes of silence, you’d decided to change the subject, chattering on about how you wondered what this mysterious vacation would hold 

Jumin couldn’t help is concentration half on every word you were saying, but also your lips. Slowly licking his own, he nodded along when you’d gotten especially enthusiastic, grinning slightly when you’d gotten so excited you’d leapt out of your luxury seat. 

Within a half hour of the trip to your destination in Italy, Jumin had trouble concentrating on much else. 

Get it together, Jumin, you’re not some fool like Zen. 

It’d gotten worse the more you’d leaned further in your seat, your chest becoming slightly exposed

he covered his mouth with a hand, opting for looking out one of the many windows of the jet. 

You’d always caught his attention and made him lose his focus -- something he’d never lost before he met you 

He blamed the strawberry sent that you’d always carried with you 

He wasn’t much for expensive, faux perfume that so many of his father’s skanks would wear... it was like no other. 

After a few hours of grueling torture on your part (though you hadn’t know every single time you’d grabbed his hand or arm it’d sent his heart on a sky dive) Jumin was glad to have arrived in the gorgeous Italian acreage of the countryside. 

It was even more beautiful at the dusk of night, you’d decided 

Immediately a shiny vehicle pulled up, ready to transport you and Jumin to the estate you were to be residing in for the weekend. 

Upon pulling into the culdesac, you almost scoffed at the word “estate” -- it was more of a country in and of itself, land stretched beyond what you could see 

The mansion itself stood on pillars and high, Gothic windows. 

Inside, flying buttresses decorated the building, giving it an elegant and aged ambiance that you just adored 

“It’s so beautiful.” 

He smiled at you then, watching you take in the wonders he’d realized he took for granted. 

He was then directed to a double-door entrance way, “Your room, Mr. Han, Miss Y/L/N.” 

“Separate, correct?” 

The man stood in surprise, looking slightly aghast, “T-they never specified such details.” 

“Contact them immediately to confirm. I’ll work it out from there.” 

“Yes, Mr. Han.” From there, the man scurried away to contact the head of the estate. 

After a few moments, he returned, “The Rossi Conglomerate had assumed that you’d brought your fiance with you.” 

“Did you mention I don’t have one?” 

“Y-yes, of course! But, Mr. Han, your father--”

Jumin sighed, “I’ll take care of it.” with a wave of his hand, the man was gone 

You thanked him on his way out. 

Jumin looked at you, searching for a reaction of displeasure or worry

When he didn’t find one, he began, “I was notified the Rossi had booked their other estates to their American investors. My being here is a formality, but it is business. It would be a great discourtesy to demand--” 

You smiled reassuringly, “Jumin, don’t worry about it.. we’ll share the bed, okay?” You held your hand in his own, rubbing soothing circles on his knuckles. 

Jumin looked at you, choking on his spit slightly. 

“Y/N you do understand that--” 

“It’s fine, Jumin!! It’s late already, I’ll just put up my hair.. and.. do you know where the night clothes would be?” 

He watched as you fixed a bobby pin between your teeth before running your fingers through your hair, watching as you arched your back to-- 

“Jumin? ...you don’t know?” 

He cleared his throat, looking away, pink dusting his cheeks

“Bathroom.” 

You thanked him, unaware of his watchful eyes 

It had been a few seconds since you’d entered the bathroom before he heard a loud and alarmed, “..UM....JUMIN...?!” 

He’d quickly made his way into the bathroom

“What’s wro--” 

He looked and laying on the long granite island of the large bathroom was a silky set of lingerie as well as a note in Italian you couldn’t read. 

Jumin’s words stopped dead on his lips as he stared at you, then the silky underwear set, you, silky underwear, you.......silky underwear. 

On the outside, Jumin liked to think he came off as calm and collected, saying, “I can get you something else to wear.” 

But when he’d made it two steps out of the bathroom he had a little collision. And by collision, I mean his face.. and the wall. 

He looked in every drawer, finding nothing. He presumed clothes would be delivered as specified. But it was late already.. their servants are dismissed, only the protective guards surrounded the inside and outside of the estate.. explaining the situation to them didn’t seem very promising. 

Of course you were kicking yourself, before you’d found their little....gift... you’d cast your days clothes into the washer. They were probably soaked by now. 

Maybe I could use a hair dryer...? Or I could stuff them in the dryer?? 

Either way you’d be without clothes for.. too long. 

And nothing would be greater punishment then showing all that in front of the man you had completely fallen for... 

You heard a knock on the bathroom door. You listened from inside. 

“Hey, I, uh, couldn’t find anything. Do you think you could wear your clothes from today?” 

You whimpered, on the verge of tears, “I already put it in the washer!” 

He knocked again, “Can I hand you something?”, he asked, undoing the buttons of his formal shirt. 

“C-close your eyes!” 

Jumin chuckled darkly before covering his eyes and handing her his collared shirt 

“I’d give you the pants, too, but I don’t think they’d really fit you. Could you look at what they’d provided for me? Maybe slip on something from mine.” 

“N-no! That’d be even worse for me!! .. and you!” You blushed again imagining him half naked

You hurriedly shuffled through the drawers, but to no avail. 

You gulped, slipping on the lingerie to ensure that maybe something would be covered before buttoning Jumin’s formal shirt on you as well. 

it was so big it didn’t leave much for the imagination 

but you decided through a 10 minute pep talk that you’d suck it up and try your best to make his shirt into a night gown. 

You at last stepped out of the bathroom, Jumin’s head shooting toward the sudden noise before taking you in 

He could scarcely breathe, much less come up with a coherent sentence 

you were in his shirt... 

with barely any clothes on underneath

and you looked up at him shyly, biting your lip a little 

drawing even more attention to your lips 

Jumin had to stifle a groan, opting to head to the bathroom to change

After splashing some cold water on his face in a poor attempt to get his head out of the gutter, he quickly got on his pjs 

after you both were ready for bed, Jumin sat on the bed, opening a small novel he’d been enjoying, Anthem.  

His attention was immediately diverted from the dystopian fiction when he saw you were stretching

His shirt rode up high as he took in the way the lingerie perfect accentuated your curves, though it didn’t cover much below the waist 

Noticing your folly, your eyes widened in shock before you immediately put your hands down

which, just your luck, made it all worse. 

the sudden movement disheveled the shirt, causing it to ride down completely on one side, openly displaying the soft brassiere beneath it 

Jumin slammed his book so hard it left an echo in the large room. 

Great. He couldn’t even make it look like his book was suddenly unbelievably interesting that he just so happened to not take notice of the obvious sight before him.

You blanched, feeling a breeze along your shoulder, gasping before running to your side of the bed and pretending you don’t exist anymore 

Meanwhile Jumin is in a  c r i s i s 

In the most eloquent of words, his mind said holy fucking motherfucking shit oh my God fuck fuck fuck AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH oh my god shit shit shit fuck shit sdfasodjgiajsidogjosdg MALFUNCTION!! WARNING!!!! RUN BITCH!!! 

But Jumin didn’t run

because mama ain’t raise no bitch 

but also because if he stood up it would be blatantly obvious that he had-- 

Stop thinking about it, Jumin.

He tried to redirect his mind to his 5 senses, a grounding technique he’d learned when he got too anxious when he was younger 

But sight seemed to dominate it as his mind replayed your facial expressions, the way your hands awkwardly tried to cover yourself up, the way you looked the way he’d take it all off--- 

Oh God. I’m deep in shit. 

He had never been so pissed at himself... and embarrassed. 

He looked over at you, a horrible decision, really. 

You were still awake, your face was redder than the strawberry sent that adorned you 

“s-sorry..” you whispered, willing yourself to try to forget, “pretend that never happened..” 

Jumin was practically feral and you were saying it never happened? 

Jumin couldn’t just pretend he didn’t just see a fucking goddess 

but he would for you 

“..........pretend what never happened?” 

You sighed, a small smile on your face as you quickly turned to thank him 

but he was a LOT closer than you imagined 

he was propped up on one elbow, looking down at you, his head slightly angled. 

And suddenly your faces weren’t so far apart.

And you couldn’t help but slowly close your eyes 

Jumin felt confusion when you’d done this

he can be a bit of a pea brain, so he of course said, “I’m sure you’re very tired.” 

He shut off the light, reaching over you 

You held back the big frown you’d gotten when you realized he’d rejected you 

unbeknownst to you that it took everything in him, from the moment he’d saw you in the jet cabin, not to scoop you up in his arms and make out with you the whole way there. 

Zen 

Was Zen going to invite you to his own fucking tour? 

Of course he was 

he liked flexing his connections 

and most of all, showing you just how much he cared about you 

and loved you

but not the love part because God if you ever found out Zen might jump into the nearest body of water and never return 

not that he didn’t have any confidence

he has lots of it 

but it all kind of disintegrates when he gets to talking about his real feelings

But come on, it was blatantly obvious to anyone who had heckin eyes 

or ears 

or just any functioning body 

the way he’d try to subtly throw an arm over your shoulder 

or he’d lean in whenever you spoke 

or the way he’d readjust his posture when you walked into a room 

or the way everyone caught him staring 

like anytime you weren’t looking 

or when you are looking because he is “built different” 

So the limo ride to the fancy hotel he was to stay at was something that had him looking forward to the tour, but also dreading it 

you’d sat close to him in the limo because his agent and other workers were sitting along with him. 

So close that your ass got pushed further and further onto his lap

because damn where the fuck are we and why are there so many goddamn potholes 

Zen tried to steady you by firmly grabbing your hips 

which was NOT the move 

because now that you were firmly set on his lap, every bump felt like a fucking war against his hormones. 

Like a gentleman, he quickly opted to seat you next to him, not wanting you to feel embarrassed 

still, he could feel you being pulled closer to him with every long turn the limo made or every bump or abrupt stop 

and it was torture. 

like this man is sweating 

but by some miracle you arrive at the hotel in one piece! Yay! 

but Zen’s soul has left his body~~ 

so you get set up 

You open the room, “Look, Zen! This bed is HUGE!!”, you ran over to it and plopped your face onto the sheets

He chuckled, watching you act like a little kid excited about a hotel for the first time 

his brows furrowed when he realized there was no door separator between your rooms 

He immediately called the front desk 

all you could over hear was “No, there seems to be some kind of mistake” 

and “I reserved two rooms -- conjoined” 

“Alright, ok. Thanks.” and then he hung up. 

“So..” he sighed, “They can’t get another room because they’re completely booked. Someone must’ve recognized the limo and lots of fans immediately bought up all the rooms in hopes of seeing me.”

“It’s alright Zen! I can ask to switch with your agent or something!!” 

“NO!” Zen said a little too loudly. “No. Um, look it would be bad because he’s a man.” 

“Your a dude, too, Zen.” 

“I-- yeah, but that’s different because I’m a guy you can trust.” 

“True..”

“So I’ll sleep on the couch, ‘kay?” 

“Zen, no! You need your beauty sleep to be ready for your performance tomorrow!!!” 

“It’s alright, really!”

“I’ll sleep on the couch!” 

“Like hell you will.” 

“Please :(”

“Y/N, seriously--” 

“Then how about this! You and I just sleep in the same bed!” 

Ever the dramatic soul, Zen gasped with his palm over his heart “How SCANDALOUS!” 

“Aren’t you supposed to be Mr. Playboy?”

“Only for you, baby”, he winked. 

You stuttered, “T-that’s not funny! Seriously don’t make it weird you horn- dog!” 

He threw his head back in laughter, “Horn-dog?! I thought you said you trusted me!” 

“Not when you’re obviously thinking about doing this and that to me!!” 

“Doing this and tha---Hey! Who do you think I am?!”

There was suddenly a loud bang on the wall and a burly man shouted, “GO TO FUCKIN’ SLEEP YOU OBNOXIOUS, SEXUALLY FRUSTRATED LITTLE SHITS!”

You smirked, holding in a laugh saying, “Sounds like your fans are getting jealous.” 

Zen’s mouth dropped and you began laughing hysterically 

“T-that was like a 60 year old man!” 

“I’M 42 YOU LITTLE SHIT” 

You fell back on the bed, laughing louder 

Zen shouted back, “WELL EXCUSE ME, SEXY, 42 YEAR OLD MAN” 

There was silence before a harsh knock sounded at your door 

All Zen’s bravado disintegrated and he made a dash for the bed, whispering loudly for you to “Turn off the fuckin’ lights, turn off the fuckin’ lights!” 

You stifled more giggles rising up to your throat as you clicked off the light, making sure the room was locked, and climbed into bed

you breathed out your last laughs, sighing to yourself contentedly before noticing the close proximity you were to Zen 

You stared at each other for a long moment 

You leaned in closer 

Zen placed a palm on your cheek, gently cupping it

he softly whispered, “Can I kiss you?” 

You answered by harshly connecting your lips

The two of you feeding off each other’s oxygen as Zen bit your lip, causing you to gasp and open your mouth to make way for his tongue 

you whimpered, feeling faint from lack of oxygen

the two of you parted, out of breath 

Zen wanted to say something smooth like “I’ve always wanted to do that.” 

but instead he said “I’ve always wanted to do you.” 

He mentally smacked his head, blaming the lack of oxygen for his stupidity

But you smirked up at him coyly, replying, “Then why don’t you?” 

Um yeah rip your hotel neighbor he will literally hate both of you so much 

I had honestly SO MUCH FUN writing this!! Let me know if you want, like, a part two to this. I think I’d just be so fun lol

[jaesqueso]

Diggity (m)

originally posted by @nctdream​

pairing: construction worker!jeno x fem!reader (special guests: nct dream)

summary: you’ve been checking out the construction workers across the street and you know they’ve been checking you out too, except one of them, so why do you want him more?

word count: 1,991

warnings: oral sex (giving), fingering, unprotected sex (when in doubt don’t go without!), a little bit of voyerism/exhibition kink

a/n: so I finally gave in and wrote about construction worker!jeno... this is not proof read cause I am LAZY, but I’ll do it tomorrow so apologies in advance for any errors and inconsistencies... ANYWAY, please do give me some feedback! ❤ update: now proof read

☽ ・・・・・ ☾

“Good morning ma’am.”

You gasp and widen your eyes as you open your front door.

“I’m very sorry to bother you this early. My name is Jeno, I’m working in the construction site across the street and we could use access to your balcony because of some cables. Would that be ok with you?”

“S-Sure.” You gulp as you stutter the words.

You step to the side to let the man in and run your hands through your hair trying to tame it down and make it look like you didn’t just get up.

“This should be very quick.”

You nod and lead him to the balcony. You stay inside and watch as he does his business, biting your lip and tilting your head as you take in his manly figure. His amazing biceps uncovered by the rolled up sleeves of his t-shirt that is just tight enough for you to get a glimpse of his incredible torso. His pants that, even though they’re baggy, are able to showcase his bottom specially when he leans forward. And last but not least, the way his dark locks perfectly fall on his handsome face that looks even better up close. Yes up close, because you had already done a lot of sight seeing from afar.

“Thank you for kindness ma’am,” he interrupts your thoughts as he walks back in your house. “I will have to return at the end of the day to remove the cables, is that alright?”

“Of course.” You lead him to the front door and couldn’t help watching him as he walked away.

You shake your head and get in the shower. As you come out you put on some comfortable yet formfitting clothes in anticipation of the promised second visit. You grab your laptop and sit in your living room to try and get some work done. Well, as much as the view from your window allows you to. 

You close the door and take a deep breath. You walk to the bathroom and almost scream when you see your reflection in the mirror. When Jeno knocked on the door you were still laying in bed, half asleep, so you quickly got up putting on a robe that was laying around, that thankfully covered your short pajama shorts. What an embarrassment letting him see you like that.

The construction had started a few weeks before and from day one you noticed the team of very attractive guys that worked there. You called them the dreamies because there hasn’t been a single night where your mind didn’t drift off to them while your hand slipped inside your underwear. But out of all seven of them the one that got your attention was the same that stepped inside your house today.

While the others obviously took some extra breaks to glance at your yoga poses, that you may or may not do way too close to the balcony glass door, Jeno always seemed to mind his own business and for some reason that turned you on even more.

You spend your day dividing your attention between the computer were your work was not getting done, the clock on the wall the made every second seem like an hour, and the dreamies across the street working hard…

Finally the most expected knock on your door, but this time you make sure to check yourself in the mirror before opening it.

“Good afternoon ma’am.”

“Please, call me Y/N.” You smile and let him in.

You lead him to your balcony and just like earlier in the morning you stay inside admiring him. How come he looks even more luscious after a hard day at work, sweat dripping down his forehead and arms. You decide to go get him a towel determined to prolong his stay as much as you can.

“Y/N?” You hear him call as you approach the living room.

“I’m sorry, here.” You hand him the towel.

“Thank you.” He smiles as he takes it and cleans off his face down to his neck.

You gulp as the whole thing just looks way too sensual for your own good.

“Can I get you a glass of water?” You ask already moving to the kitchen.

“It’s alright, I don’t want to bother.” He tries to say but you’re already coming back with a full glass.

“It’s really no bother.” You smile and feel your heart beat faster when his fingers brush in yours as he takes the water and drinks it down in one gulp, exposing his thick neck as he tilts his head back. “Please, take a seat.” You gesture to a chair on the dinning table.

“Oh I should get going, I’m sure you have other things to do.” He hands you back the empty cup.

“Please, I always have time to help out a hardworking man.” You gently place your hand on his arm and bite your lip as you feel his muscles flex under your touch.

“You are very kind.” He smiles and takes a seat as you sit down too.

“So, how’s the construction going?” You mentally slap yourself for not being better at small talk, what kind of question is that?

“It’s going good.” He starts but then you see a grin appear on his lips. “Even though my colleagues keep getting distracted by something across the street.”

“Oh really?” You smile and lean closer. “Don’t you get distracted by it too?”

“Can’t say I don’t,” he leans in too, just inches away from your face, “I just try not to make it obvious, I don’t want to scare it away.”

“Don’t worry,” you get up and straddle his lap, “she’s not scared.”

You close the distance between you finally getting a taste of his lips. His strong manly hands grab your waist to pull you closer as he kisses you back. There’s a sweet yet salty taste on his lips that you’re sure you’ll remember forever. You wrap your arms around his neck as the kiss deepens and slowly grind on his lap.

His lips move to your neck and a small whimper escapes through your mouth as you tilt your head  to give him more access to explore. You grip on his shoulders for support as his hands move to your front to cup your breasts. You thank yourself for choosing not to wear a bra today.

Jeno quickly gets annoyed with your shirt getting on his way and almost tears it away from your body taking a nipple in his mouth. You bite your lip to contain your moans, embarrassed he’s driving you this crazy when you’ve only just made out. While he’s busy with your boobs you keep moving on his lap happy to feel something growing under you.

You gently push him back and he looks at you confused thinking you perhaps want to stop. You get up from his lap only to kneel between his legs.

“You don’t have to do that,” he says as you unzip his pants, “I’m all sweaty from the day.”

“Like I said,” you lick your lips as you release his half hard member, “I always have time to help out a hardworking man.”

He groans as you take his dick in your mouth. You bob you head up and down taking your time to taste every inch of his length. One of his hands caresses your hair still allowing you to define your own rhythm. You look up at him and almost cum right there at his piercing eyes that make you want to submit and allow him to do everything he wants with your body.

You feel him get harder inside your mouth but as you speed up your movements he grabs your hair and pulls you up to his face, grip strong enough to manhandle you but not enough to hurt you.

“As much as I love seeing your mouth full with me, there’s somewhere else I’d like to fill you in today.” Jeno takes your breast back to his mouth as he pushes the remaining clothes off your body.

Seeing him fully dressed while you’re totally naked makes you feel so vulnerable and for some reason that makes you crave him even more. But, hell with it, you don’t know when this type of fantasy can come true again and you’re not about to waste the opportunity to memorise every part of his body.

You tug on his shirt and he helps you remove it while getting up from the chair. You bite your lip running your hands through his defined torso as he pushes the rest of his clothes down. He leans in to kiss you again. You press your body against his, feeling his hot and sweaty skin against yours.

Jeno breaks the kiss and looks you deep in the eyes as he licks the palm of his hand. You keep your eyes on his as his hand moves down your stomach to your core. You gasp as his fingers rub between your folds spreading your wetness all around and he smirks satisfied with the effect he has on you.

His lips return to yours as two of his fingers slip inside you. You moan into the kiss tugging your fingers on his hair. Once he can’t hold it anymore he removes his fingers from you, parting you mouths to lick them clean, and then tugs on your thighs signalling you to jump on him.

You wrap your legs around him, grabbing his shoulders for support. Your lips meet again and you feel him walk around the room. Only when you sense a cold surface hit your back you realise he’s pushing you against the balcony glass door where you daydreamt about this moment so many times before.

You moan as he aligns his tip with your entrance and slowly pushes in. Never in your imagination you predicted him to fill you in this good. He starts pounding into you and you lean your head against the door. Jeno takes the opportunity to attack your neck again making sure to leave his mark here and there.

You are amazed with the power of his thrusts, they are so raw and rough but at the same time feel so warm and gentle. You’ve never been fucked like this before and, well, you always want to from now on.

That familiar heat builds up in your stomach and you tighten your grip on his shoulders, unable to control the moans and whimpers that leave your mouth.

“You’re gonna cum for me?” He groans in your ear, his own breath getting heavier.

“Yes!” You almost yell. “Please cum with me.”

“Since you asked so nicely.”

His thrusts quicken, hitting you harder and deeper and in no time he’s cuming inside you. While he’s riding his high he takes a hand to your clit rubbing it just the right way to push you over the edge as he’s name leaves your mouth in a final loud moan.

He holds you up for a while, kissing you again. Then he removes himself from you gently placing your legs back down.

“Do you want to take a shower?” You ask as your breathing returns to normal.

“Only if you join me.” He smirks.

“Why wouldn’t I?” You wink taking his hand and leading him to the bathroom, bodies already craving for a round two.

⭐︎

“Why is Jeno taking so long?” Mark asked as the dreamies packed things up to leave.

“The cables are done, he should’ve came back already” Chenle said.

“Maybe he got stuck with something,” Haechan suggested, “or someone.”

“No way that happened!” Jisung claimed in disbelief.

“Yo guys!” Jaemin shouted. “They’re doing it against the window!”

Everybody hurries over to make sure this is really happening.

“I knew he could do it!” Renjun threw his fist in the air. “Everybody pay up, I accept cash only!”

[maxbegone]

definitely not seven sentences. have a lovely sunday!

“Do you want to shower first or should I?” TK asks him, but he shrugs and pushes the bag again. “I’ll go first.” He pauses. “Or do you want to join?”

He’s hoping the suggestion of some intimate alone time between the two of them will perk his boyfriend up a bit, but Carlos doesn’t budge.

“No, you go,” he encourages. “I didn’t really finish my session.”

“‘Kay.”

He walks past him slowly, only managing to get a tight-lipped hint of a smile as Carlos picks his earbud case up from where it’s sitting on the desk.

When he reemerges half an hour later, the evening sun has started to cast long shadows in the apartment. Carlos is still at it, throwing all his power into beating the hell out of the bag to the point that TK’s afraid he’s going to send it flying and take the ceiling down with it.

“Babe.” Carlos doesn’t look up. “Babe,” he tries again, louder. Still nothing.

He waits until Carlos catches his eye to stop the bag, holding it tight and staring him down.

He rips his earbuds out. “What?” He asks, panting.

“What is going on?”

“I told you before, I’m blowing off steam.” He gears up to swing again, hands in front of his face, but TK pulls the bag further.

“Okay, but why?”

“I’m stressed, TK. Despite what you and my mom say, I can’t exactly take a break from this!”

“Is it the end of the world if you don’t pass the exam on the first try?”

“If I don’t, it’ll look bad.”

“Babe.”

“You passed the paramedic exam on the first try.”

“Yeah, but I was dual certified back in New York. I had the information already.” He pauses. “How different is this exam from the one you had to take in the police academy?”

Carlos stares at him. “There’s more information.”

He leaves TK standing there as he walks to the bedroom, popping his earbuds back in their case as he goes.

“Hang on. Wait a minute, Carlos! I’m not done talking about this.”

“I am. If you want to go out to dinner or something, I need to shower.”

“Seriously?” TK follows him. “Don’t just do this because you think it’s what I want to hear. You’re too hard on yourself. Your mom and I are concerned.”

“I appreciate it,” he says evenly, “but you guys don’t have to worry about me.”

“That’s kind of a hard thing to do when you love someone.”

Carlos doesn’t say anything.

“Is it your dad? TK asks.

“Maybe.” He starts pulling out clothes. “It doesn’t matter.”

“I kind of think it does. Carlos, your shoulders are all the way up by your ears.”

He spins around. “What does that mean?”

“It means you’re going to give yourself a pinched nerve or something,” TK dismisses, because that isn’t the point. “Your mom told you that she and your dad are proud of you. And you already know I am, so why are you so obsessed with getting this right on the first try and beating yourself up if you don’t?”

“Because my dad didn’t think I would survive dealing with a career like this every day, and maybe I believe him. So maybe, TK, I’m trying to prove both him and myself wrong!”

They’re standing on opposite sides of the bed, TK closer to their closet and Carlos by the entryway to the bathroom, a pile of clothes in his hands.

It feels like they’re at a bit of a standoff, and all TK wants to do is walk over and hug him, tell the love of his life over and over again that he has nothing to prove. But he knows it won’t work right now. He’s clearly hung up about something in whatever it is he’s studying, and knowing Carlos the way he does, he’s not going to stop until he gets it.

“Baby—” He starts, but he’s interrupted by his phone buzzing on the nightstand.

[rere-the-writer]

Title- 'To win her back'

A part two to this request

a part three - ????

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Protective Mikaelsons

You were surprisingly happy after a good cry when the Mikaelsons left. You thought over Elijah's words wondering if you could truly forgive them. You stood huffing as Ryan rush to your side worry written over his face.

"You okay?"

"Yeah I'm fine I am just tired." You tell him as Ryan smiled softly taking you to bed. Marcel thought it would be a good time to visit you a month after your lovers found you.

"So all that is from them?" Marcel asked taking the cup of tea from you as you sat down looking at the boxes. Since the Originals found you and did as you asked it didn't stop them from sending gifts and things for your baby. Rebekah sent baby clothes, Kol sent toys, Klaus would send paintings he did while Elijah began paying your bills not trusting Ryan to keep you living comfortable.

"Yes. Their way of apologizing, showering me with gifts." You said having not open any of them though you couldn't stop Elijah from paying the bills.

"How is the little guy?"

"Heathly, him and his twin brother." You tell your best friend watching him light up touching your belly smiling.

"Wow twins. That amazing."

"It is....how are they?" You couldn't help but ask as Marcel leaned back thinking how things were back in New Orleans. Things were tense between the Mikaelsons and Hayley as they blamed themselves for you leaving and Hayley was trying to get them to let you go.

"Well they are tensed with Hayley and a little jealous that you let Freya visit." Marcel tells you as you sighed it was true you only allowed Freya to come up to see you so the only way your lovers knew that you were okay was though her and Marcel.

"Tense with Hayley? Why?"

"Well other than blaming themselves for you leaving, they also blame Hayley." Marcel says as you thought over what he said. You knew from what Freya told how they were doing Klaus dosen't really leave his art studio, Rebekah and Kol sleeps in your bedroom and Elijah ignores Hayley spending his time looking though your photo album.

"I see. Well I got a doctor's appointment."

"Right. See you again soon." Marcel said hugging you walking out with you.

"Yeah Mar."

You huffed feeling annoyed seeing dozen red roses on your door and picked the box. You reading the card seeing it was from Kol and you put the roses in a vase while doing so you noticed two empty glasses of wine.

"What the?" You muttered walking seeing pair of women panties that you knew wasn't yours. You realize what was happening as you marched to the the bedroom finding Ryan in bed with his secretary.

"RYAN! Are you fucking kidding me!" You shouted surprising the lawyer and his secretary. You eyes narrowed seeing the gorgeous necklace around the woman's necklace and realized it was one that Rebekah sent as an apology.

"Gifting her my jewelry?!" You shouted at him throwing a picture frame at him as the secretary ylep.

"Baby listen it was an accident."

"An accident?! Get the fuck out of my home and you take my jewelry off!"

"Baby! I'll be out on the street!" Ryan said giving you a puppy dog look as the secretary scrabble to take the jewelry off and got dress. You crossed your arms glaring at Ryan who look pathetic pleading for you to not throw him out.

Elijah was walking down stairs knowing how quiet it was with Klaus up in his art studio, Kol spending all his time with Freya and Rebekah had yet to really leave your bedroom. Hayley came in stopping seeing Elijah and made an attempt to talk to the Original as he had been cold to everyone that wasn't family.

"Elijah, you can't keep ignoring me."

"What do want me to do Hayley? Come running to you? Seek comfort from the one thing that reminds me of the pain I cause to the woman I truly loved?"

"Wow. I hope you say it to her face." Elijah looked up seeing you standing there with a baby sling that held twins. Elijah's breathing hitched finding you just gorgeous dressed in a long sundress hair cut short.

"Y/N?" Elijah whispered finding it hard to believe you were standing there as Rebekah had heard Elijah say your name with Klaus and Kol.

"You guys act like you have seen a ghost." You teased as Rebekah reached you first worried you'll pull away but was glad you let her hug you.

"Are you back for good?"

"I sure hope so because I didn't drive a truck load of stuff for nothing." You said noticing how nervous they were around you as if it was your first night with them all over again.

"You came back to us." Elijah said watching you being lead to the den by Rebekah. They followed after as you frowned noticing the dust on things as you took a good look at your lovers.

Marcel and Freya wasn't kidding when they told you that the others weren't doing well. Each of them looked as if they weren't really feeding, Elijah wasn't dressed in a clean suit, Rebekah looked a bit duller, Klaus looked scruffy with paint on his clothes and Kol was just as dull as Rebekah.

"Well I thought seven months in your mistake was enough." You say sitting down with Rebekah sitting next to you. They looked seeing the twin boys that was asleep.

"So you came back to throw it their faces that you are happier."

"No Hayley. Truthfully I missed you all so I came home it would be unfair to keep Oilver and Henrik from their family." You said as they stared and Elijah swallowed walking over kneeling letting Kol take the other side of you and Klaus stood behind you.

"You named one of our boys after our little brother?"

"Yeah to honor Henrik." You say softly letting them get a better look at the sleeping boys. Hayley crossed her arms staring at you.

"So what hoping to move back in like nothing happened?"

"No. I bought the town house across the street. I forgive them but I am not ready to move back in." You tell Hayley as Oliver woke whining getting your attention. You had Rebekah take a still sleeping Henrik as you fed Oilver.

"How old are they?"

"A month in a half." You answered Kol watching Oliver latch onto you to eat. Elijah was in awe staring at his sons noticed how much Oliver and Henrik looked like him but he was glad they had your nose.

"Baby, as much as we would love for you move back in if there was one thing we learned was. Let you do what you need."

"I am not going to keep the boys from you all unlike some people but I need time before we jump back into this."

"Take all the time you need love. We can wait a thousand years if needed." Klaus says softly rubbing your shoulders. They were happy you let them touch you and was every willing to go as slow as you wanted.

"You want to hold him, Elijah?" You asked when Oilver was done and Kol fix you up. Elijah held his arms out as you placed the wake Oilver in his arms.

"Henrik is smaller than his brother." Rebekah said handing you the sleeping baby as you smiled softly.

"There was a bit of trouble during childbirth. I mean Hen is heathly he'll be fine." You tell them noticing the worry on their faces.

"Are you guys really okay with her just coming back?! After all the pain she put you all in?" Hayley walking in as you stood up getting the twins comfortable in the sling.

"Clearly you guys need to work things out with Hayley. I'll be across the street." You said walking out missing the glares the Mikaelsons gave Hayley. Marcel helped you bring your things inside with Josh and Davina.

"They are cute." Davina said watching over Henrik and Oilver who were wake in baby swings. You smiled opening boxes looking at your boys.

"Yeah they sure got the cute Mikaelson baby genes." You tell Davina as Josh and Marcel brought in the last of the boxes.

"I'm glad you're back. Me and Josh missed you."

"You guys could have visited with Marcel."

"Yeah but someone had to make sure the Mikaelsons take care of themselves."

"Was it really that bad?" You asked looking at them as Davina sighed.

"I am not going to lie to you. Yes it was Y/N, they were a mess. Marcel had to watch over the city."

"Hell they barely let Hayley in the Abattoir unless she was dropping Hope off." Josh tells you as you looked out the window looking across the way staring at the Abattoir.

"Freya never told me how bad it was."

"Because we agreed that you should come back home on your own not because of guilt." Marcel tells you as you looked at them while you were glad that they wanted you to come back on your own. You wished they told you how they really were doing.

Later that evening Klaus stopped by with Elijah and you let them in as they noticed you were in one of Klaus's old shirts and sweatpants.

"Unpacking love?"

"Yeah if you guys didn't send so much I wouldn't be still unpacking." You tease lightly as Klaus smirked while Elijah knelt down in front of the boys. Oliver was reaching for Elijah's hand and he let the boy grab his hand.

"Where is Kol and Rebekah?"

"Getting you dinner." Klaus said moving to help you unpack while Elijah was playing with boys.

"Where is Ryan?"

"Back in New York. Caught him sleeping with his secretary."

"Sorry to hear the love." Klaus says rubbing your back as you chuckled leaning into him.

"It's okay. Ryan wasn't you guys...he didn't have that same warmth."

"We brought food my beautiful righteous Queen." Kol said making you laugh which made the babies laugh. The Mikaelsons were happy to hear your laughter again and this time they were going to do their best to be sure you felt loved as they weren't going to let you go this time.