#however he is unable to move. quite unfortunate

[wikoymi]

So eepy

[hannieehaee]

How about yn taking care of Jeonghan's broken ankle ?

content: idol!jeonghan x nonidol!reader, established relationship, massage, mentions of nudity and showering together (not explicit), mentions of his injured ankle, fluff, etc.

wc: 1213

a/n: genuinely believe he'd either immediately feed into being taken care of or fight you all the way through it. there's no in between

masterlist

"yah! i already told you you don't have to do this!", whined jeonghan despite his clear struggle to get himself up from bed.

"baby, it's only been a few days since you got the cast on. i'm going to help you, i don't care how stubborn you are," you argued back, still helping him up by offering your shoulder for him to lean on.

with a frustrated yet playful groan, jeonghan used your arm for support, struggling to get up from the bed as you helped him get on his two feet with the support of the crutches you'd been holding out for him.

he grumbled a 'thank you' and pressed a chaste kiss to your cheek when he finally got a firm hold of his crutches and was able to stand on his own, making his way out of the room with you following behind.

jeonghan always enjoyed being the caretaker in every relationship in his life. whether it be for his parents, sister, members, or you, jeonghan felt an innate need to take care of others in every way he could.

however, after recently hurting his ankle and requiring surgery for it, jeonghan had found himself unable to work his way through his usual daily tasks, not entirely used to the current state of his ankle.

he realized that his situation wasnt too bad. it couldve been worse, after all. but it was still proving to be quite an inconvenience, specially as he was bound to stay home for a few months while his members continued to work and tour without him.

jeonghan knew how lucky he was to have you stay home with him to tend to his every need, – even to an exaggerated extent – but he still couldnt help but fight you in every step of the way, insisting that you taking care of small tasks such as getting up to get a water bottle for him or brushing his hair in the morning was completely unnecessary. he enjoyed being tended to immensely, but he simply felt badly about having you go out of your way, unable to give anything back in return.

unfortunately for him, you were equally as stubborn as him, refusing to not care for the poor boy as he pretended not to struggle through simple tasks.

~

"hannie! stop moving! just let me wash you, okay?"

"you don't have to help me bathe! i can still move my arms!", he whined, throwing his head back in a petulant manner.

"jeonghan!" you grabbed his face in your hands and made him look at you, groaning at the pleased look on his face at knowing he was wearing you down, "i'm going to help you! i don't care if you can do this on your own, i want to take care of you, okay? now sit your ass down and stay still while i wash your hair. understood?"

he grinned at your serious demeanor, finding the furrow of your eyebrows and pout of your lips to be extremely adorable, even if he was driving you crazy. he nodded in a childlike fashion and gave a response of 'yes ma'am' before leaning back against you and letting you squirt some shampoo on his head.

it was easy for him to relax in your hold as you ran your hands through his hair, becoming extremely sleepy at the soft scratches against his scalp. humming against you, he murmured thank you's for being so nice to him despite him being a pest.

you shushed him with a kiss to his bare back and continued taking care of him. you knew how hard he worked, and how he was likely sore in all other areas of his body due to his endless and extraneous work. truly, you were kind of taking this break as an excuse to pamper him in ways you'd always wanted to – except that in regular circumstances, he would always pull a fast one on you and flip the cards, taking care of you instead.

after washing him up (and him insisting he help you wash up too), you helped your pretty boy get dressed and make his way to bed, where you held him in your arms as you attempted to sleep.

after feeding him his medicine, you fell into slumber next to each other, holding onto one another for warmth. falling asleep next to him was your favorite part, as you knew he was fully relaxed and no longer in pain – and he also couldnt fight you when you'd gradually wake up to check in on him.

~

it had now been a few weeks since jeonghan's surgery. the cast had been removed, but he still struggled a lot with soreness and was advised to stay home for a few more weeks. however, this did not derail you in your insistence to aid him with tasks such as bathing every so often or making his meals.

it took a bit for you to realize, extremely sleepy after a long day at work, – having only gone back a few days due to jeonghan's insistence – but jeonghan began fidgeting in the middle of the night, letting out quiet groans of complaint. blinking the sleepiness out of your eyes, you sat up to check what was wrong, making him sigh at being caught struggling (god forbid).

"baby? what's wrong?"

"nothing, angel, go back to sleep," he dismissed, sitting up and bringing his legs up to sit cross legged, pulling his hurt ankle higher up so he could rub at it.

"is it hurting, hannie?"

he nodded, wincing when he rubbed particularly hard. that's when you intervened, helping him turn towards you so you could take his foot into your own hand.

"let me help, okay?" you murmured, giving him a look of compassion that practically begged for him to not fight you on this.

likely very sleepy and worn down, he nodded silently, humming when your hands began to expertly rub at his foot, making him groan in appreciation at how well you were able to rid him of the soreness.

you massaged his foot silently for a few minutes, enjoying the low groans of pleasure jeonghan occasionally let out at the pain relief you were giving him.

"how are you so good at it?", he breathed out, eyes closed in relaxation.

you chuckled, "i did some research. wanted to make sure you didn't feel any pain as you healed."

he groaned adorably, "you're an angel," he breathed in complete relaxation, "don't deserve you."

"yeah, i know," you giggled.

"yah!"

"sorry, hannie. love you," you stopped for a second to grab at one of his hands and kiss the back of it, letting go to go back to his ankle.

jeonghan had different plans, though, grabbing onto your hand and pulling you to him, once again cuddling you on your shared bed.

"hannie, the massage-"

he grumbled, shaking his head, "feel so much better already. wanna sleep with you now, okay? just lay with me," he nuzzled his head into your hair, stubborn in the way he held you far too close to him (but just close enough).

"love you," he murmured, "thank you for taking care of me this past month."

"you're so fucking annoying," you rebutted, "love you more."

[cal-flakes]

hi, would you be able to do reader gets too drunk at a party and a someone hits on her before boyfriend rafe saves her ?!

reading my mind fr. yes!!!! hope you enjoy <3

╰┈➤ partying with protective!rafe

warnings: swearing, violence, use of alcohol.

summary: y/n gets a bit too drunk at a kook party. rafe has to step in when someone tries hitting on her.

y/n giggled to herself as she stumbled through the house to get another drink, leaving rafe to do ‘business’ in the living room. the clatter of her heels against the wooden floor was drowned out by the music.

a few fellow kooks said their ‘hey’s’ and ‘hi’s’ as she passed. y/n enjoyed the pleasantries, she was a people person. however, she was sure the majority of people were only nice to her out of fear, fear of rafe cameron’s bad side to be specific. despite this, there was always one, one guy who thought he had a chance with her.

“hey y/n!” an unfamiliar voice called from behind her as she grabbed two cups to fill. turning, she vaguely recognised him but couldn’t find the name. unable to hide hee confused look, he spoke up again. “it’s me, jason, we had maths class together a few years ago?” he stated, trying to jog the girls memory. feigning surprise, she smiled sweetly. “oh, of course! great to see you!” y/n beamed while she poured two more drinks for her and rafe.

rather than picking them up, she knocked them over, spilling one of them all over jason. gasping, she rushed to clean it up, grabbing a rag. “oh gosh, i am so sorry! here..” apologetically handing him the rag. y/n sighed in relief as the boy began laughing, rather than being upset with her. “hey, it’s fine! you can always make up for it” he smirked, wiping his now soaked shirt. choosing to ignore the last part, she picked up the re-filled cups and apologised one last time before going to move past him. his arm stopped her, effective caging her in between the counter.

“how about you make it up to me now?” he whispered, a sinister smirk plastered on his face. “sorry, i don’t quite understand?” y/n questioned, oblivious to what was going on. “why don’t we go upstairs, and you can apologise for spilling your drink on me?” jason suggested, still keeping her backed up against the counter.

“no, sorry. my boyfriends waiting for me..” she rushed, attempting to move past him once more. huffing, jason refused to let her go. “boyfriend? who’s your boyfriend huh?”

“rafe cameron, im sure you’ve heard of him” y/n stated, half expecting him to shit his pants and back up. unfortunately for her, jason did the opposite. laughing obnoxiously, jason only moved closer. y/n’s breath hitched as the boy took another step towards her, placing his hand on her waist.

“cameron’s a bitch man, you’d be much better off with-” before he could finish his sentence, a low voice called out aggressively. “who’s a bitch?”

a look of sheer terror spread across jason’s face as he hesitantly turned around. y/n took her chance and moved out from behind jason, taking her place beside rafe as he glared at him. “h-hey man, i was just kidding, y’know?” jason stuttered as rafe towered above him. in a swift move, her boyfriend grabbed ahold of jason’s collar with one fist as the other struck the boys jaw, knocking him to the floor.

“rafe! rafe it’s fine! just leave it!” y/n demanded from behind her boyfriend, hesitant to get in between the two. jason writhed in pain on the floor, allowing rafe to step over him.

“leave it rafe! please!” y/n continued pleading, knowing rafe often went too far. a low growl left rafe’s throat, grabbing the boys collar once more before spitting on him. “you’re fucking lucky she’s here.” rafe snapped at him threateningly.

turning on his heel, rafe softly grabbed y/n’s waist. “you okay princess?” he whispered, blood still boiling at the audacity of that boy. nodding quickly, she smiled up at him.

“you are my saviour, rafe cameron. i love you” chuckling at her words, he leant down and kissed her roughly, putting on a show for those watching. “i love you too baby”

[delulujuls]

navy fury | mv33

im a redbull stan and max's girlie till i die (but my heart is papaya shaped) so please enjoy this one as well!

summary: max is struggling with asking for help, reader is trying her best to let him know that she always got his back

warnings: negative emotions, angst, max struggling with his demons, jos verstappen (he is the biggest warning lol)

pairing: max verstappen x fem!mclarendriver

Max would often get angry.

More often than he would like it to be. More often than he would want a consuming wave of anger to wash over him, for fury to engulf him and inject its burning venom into his veins. He would get angry over trivial things, get angry over bigger issues either. Anger would truly eat him up every time something didn't go as planned.

However, he tried to fight with his anger and negative emotions at all costs. Instead of processing them, letting go and moving on, he would bottle them up, allowing them to fester and poison his entire being. He preferred to get angry in solitude, where he knew nothing wrong would happen and even if it did, he would be the only one harmed.

Unfortunately, Max found a kind of satisfaction and comfort in hurting others. Emotions dissipated much faster when he could engage in an argument with someone rather than sitting in silence with only his own screams shattering his head.

If Max could have any control over himself and his emotions, he would unplug the anger outburst responsible for explosions of anger like this one.

He didn't hear the insults that left his mouth, didn't hear Christian's shouts telling him to calm down. He didn't feel the strong arms of the mechanics holding him back and pulling him away from Lance Stroll, who sat on the ground with a bleeding nose. In moments like this, Max was guided by nothing but emotions, desperately trying to find any way out.

In moments like this Max knew that to feel relief he had to destroy something. It didn't matter if it was a glass, his shattered fists or the bleeding nose of that Aston Martin dickhead who ruined his entire race.

Many people in his immediate surroundings distinguished the Dutchman before the anger storm and after it. Before it was Max, after it, there was only Verstappen.

Just as Max was the friendly, smiling guy who joyfully congratulated his rivals, willingly gave interviews and joked with team members, Verstappen was a walking hailstorm from which lightning could strike at any moment.

"Fucking idiot."

He growled one last time and walked deeper into the garage, where everyone he encountered averted their gaze and moved out of his way. It was always best to simply get out of Max's way and let him cool down. But no one knew that the fire of anger was just beginning to burn and the epicenter was yet to come.

"What the hell was that, Max?"

Cold water. The hiss of an extinguished fire.

He felt a tightness in his chest upon hearing his father's voice. Jos Verstappen was the only person who could instantly turn his anger into pure, filtered fear.

Max unzipped his racing suit, unable to look his father in the face. He didn't even know what to say. What was there to say either, he had just let his father down. Not for the first time though.

"I asked you a question."

His father's cold, gruff tone cut Max to the core and once again, Max was six years old, stuttering as he explained to his dad why he crashed his go-kart into his friend's. Apologizing and making excuses, saying it wasn't his fault that another seven-year-old cut him off. In his eyes, Max wasn't a grown man with an amazing track record, he was just a brat who needed discipline because he made idiotic mistakes.

His father was about to thunder over him again when the whole stormy situation was suddenly illuminated by a ray of sunshine. Quite literally, as it was Y/N still dressed in her bright McLaren suit, who upon hearing about the commotion in the Aston Martin garage hastily went out to found her friend.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Verstappen, but Max is needed in the studio," she said quickly, grabbing Max's hand "Come on, Max, we need to go."

"We'll come back to this conversation."

His father mumbled under his breath, watching them go.

The girl squeezed her friend's hand tighter and started pulling him in the opposite direction, wanting to get him away from his father as quickly as possible.

"I'm not in the mood for interviews."

"There's no interview; I had to come up with something quickly to get you out of there."

Max stopped, causing Y/N to be pulled back as well. Surprised by his sudden decision, she turned to him with a questioning expression.

"I want to be alone right now, without anyone."

He let go of her hand but she still stubbornly held onto his fingers.

"We both know you don't want to be alone."

Max shook his head in denial. The last thing he wanted was to be in her company right now. He knew that when the commotion and the crowd disappeared, all the emotions would flood over him like a toxic wave.

"You don't understand."

"Yes, I don't understand because you don't give me the chance."

The girl approached him, their bodies only a few inches apart.

"Everything is fine between us only when you're in a good mood. We are really close, we spend time together and we are acting like actual friends. But as soon as something doesn't go your way and your behavior changes, you build a thick wall between us." Y/N looked into his eyes, shaking her head. "Friends don't do that, Max."

"That's what the best friends do," he replied, looking into her eyes. As they were always in the colour of the clear sky, in that moment they were having a storm inside. "The best friends won't drown you in the shit that's swirling through their lives, they won't drag you into their inner conflicts. The best friends won't be a burden to you, you know why? Because they'll just spare you that!"

Y/N embraced him without a word. She hugged him with such force that someone would need chains to pull her away. She had no intention of leaving Max's side, no matter what he was struggling with. She wanted to help him, to be his support and to be the light in his darkest nights. She had no intention of letting him continue to deceive himself with assurances that everything was always perfect. Because life never looks that way.

Adult Max didn't return her embrace, knowing that it was for the best. Adult Max closed his eyes and tilted his head, not wanting to let a single tear escape. He hoped that by remaining distant, by hurting the girl with his indifference, she would let go of him. But Little Max didn't want to make her sad; he wanted to hug his friend and not let her go until everything will be okay again.

"I won't leave you with this, Maxie. If you like it or not."

Maxie.

Lighter.

Explosion.

He exploded in tears without any warning. He sank to his knees and tightly embraced his friend, burying his face in her stomach. Y/N stroked his hair, holding him close. She didn't try to calm him, knowing full well that he just needed to cry. He needed to let out all the sadness, anger, and bitterness that had accumulated in his veins and poisoned him for years.

When the girl kissed his wet cheek, she could swear that it left a bitter taste on her lips.

And it was exactly the venom finally letting him go.

[spookyserenades]

Trouvaille - Chapter Twelve

Pairing(s); BTS OT7 x Reader

Genre/Themes; Hybrid!AU, themes of the supernatural and the occult, religious themes, violence, hurt/comfort, horror, romance

Rated; 18+ for swearing, violence/gore, future sexual themes. Reader discretion is advised.

Word Count; 16.6k

Trouvaille Masterlist

Trouvaille playlist

Updates on the 7th of each month

Hi babes!! Welcome to the latest update (a crazy one!!) Lot's going on in this chapter, including a boatload of angst, a bit of fluff, some ~spice~, and lots of emotions. It is a pretty Yoongi-heavy chapter (nice) so for all my Yoongi stans-- this one is for you! I hope you all enjoy this update, and let me know what you think if you'd like, and I'm sending you all my love 💕

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

Yoongi leaned against the grimy plaster that made up the back hallway of The Black Lodge, trying not to grimace as he felt the silky material of his button-down sticking to the years of smoke residue and alcohol fumes. The air was thick with wispy clouds of cigar and cigarette smoke, as it always was, and the strange, dark energy of the bar was still ever-present; but Yoongi wasn’t entirely focused on that, for once. 

He could really use a cigarette, himself. Yoongi quit smoking around the time his mother passed away– no, don’t think about it. Using his pointed incisors, he bit down on his lower lip enough to draw blood, the piercing pain chasing any thoughts of his mother from his mind, a coping mechanism he’d picked up over the past year. Refusing to cut his hair, abstaining from composing, gnawing his lips into shreds; anything to distract, or perhaps to punish, to forget. 

Time marched on, unfortunately. Mourning in an already mournful place was useless and made him feel like he was drowning in a pit of molten tar. Even clinging to hope, that one day he’d be able to manage breaking free and finding somewhere else to live, the hope grew dimmer by the day. 

The frown on the leopard hybrid’s face deepened as the sound of someone retching in the men’s bathroom he was standing across from reached his sensitive ears. Sometimes, he wished he could stick pencils in the spotted appendages– he’d take normal, dim human hearing from his other set over some of the shit he had managed to overhear with hybrid ears during his nearly 28 years of life. Absently, he reached up to fiddle with one of the earrings dangling from his lobe– the silver, pointed shape of a feathered wing gliding between the pads of his forefinger and thumb. 

His frown turned into the faintest ghost of a smile, that vicious and searing sensation of growing hope knocking the wind out of him as he caught the scent of jasmine– mingling with sharp botanicals, a saccharine underlying sweetness, and something uniquely human. He straightened up immediately, the door of the women’s bathroom creaking open and a great gust of that delicious scent smacking him square in the face. 

“I-? I what?” Y/N squeaked, not only unable to recover from the tender kisses Yoongi had showered over her wrist and hand, but the words that had come out of his mouth immediately after he pulled away from her slightly. “Y-yoongi. We kissed? I asked you to kiss me?”

Yoongi was now rather quiet, slowly moving away from her and staring out his window, his face somewhat closed off now that he had revealed what Y/N knew he was leaving out of the whole story of their first meeting. His tail was curling around his own waist mindlessly, and Y/N was cold and reeling with the absence of his body heat that was once accelerating her heartbeat into a gallop. 

It seemed that Yoongi was giving Y/N a few moments to process everything he confessed, a poorly-constructed imaginary wall in between them as she babbled nonsensically. 

“I’m? I don’t even know what to say. I never get that drunk, enough to ask for a kiss from a total stranger,” Y/N blurted out something that actually made sense after a few moments of stuttering, however, the statement that left her lips had Yoongi hissing and a flash of hurt sparking up his feline hazel gaze. Abruptly, Y/N wished she could collect her words from the air and stuff them back into her mouth. “I’m so, so sorry, Yoongi… I shouldn’t have forced you into a corner like that.”

Yoongi was astonished, his tail beginning to flick back and forth so sharply Y/N knew that he was very agitated. Deciding to shut up before she offended the leopard hybrid any more than she clearly already had, Y/N began to approach Yoongi at snail’s pace to prevent him from flinching away. 

“When did I say that you had forced me into a corner, Y/N? Are you serious right now?” Yoongi used her name for the first time in what felt like months, taking her off guard and making her swallow thickly. His voice was soft, but had a deadly edge to it, and the way his jaw was clenched had shivers rolling down her spine– Yoongi actually looked like the predatory leopard he was. 

“I was just saying, um, like I feel bad that I threw myself at you like that,” Y/N wished she could rewind time and relive the tender moment they had right before the bombshell was dropped, but that tenderness seemed to be leagues out of her grasp. 

“You did nothing of the sort. I told you, we talked for almost two hours. We were hardly strangers by the time I kissed you, by the way,” Yoongi crossed his arms over his chest, staring down at Y/N with a dangerous look in his eyes. It made Y/N want to back up and shrivel beneath his gaze, but she knew that Yoongi would never hurt her, so she stood her ground, albeit shakily. “I liked you, Y/N. I wanted to kiss you.”

“L-liked?” Y/N couldn’t help but emphasize the end of the word, the past tense, where Yoongi had implied that his affection for her had disappeared over the course of the year. 

After all, she made him wait, got his hopes up, and was now implying herself that he was nothing but a drunken mistake. Heart plummeting into her stomach, she watched Yoongi’s nose twitch, likely picking up on her anxiety and rising stress levels, the stoniness of his features loosening up a tad. The air was charged, tense, and Y/N wasn’t sure who would cut it first, and where the complicated conversation was going. 

“Y/N–” Yoongi took a step forward, his hand raised as if to place it on her cheek, before the sound of his bedroom door being blasted open cut him off with a surprised grunt, blood draining from his face. 

“HEY, YOONGI. WHAT TIME IS DINNER?” Hoseok jogged into the room shouting, loud rap music coming out of the earpods he was wearing, his breathing labored. 

The fox hybrid must have just come back from a run, and nothing on his face indicating he had a flying fucking clue what Y/N and Yoongi were talking about– he didn’t even seem to notice the tension swirling around the room, Y/N’s stricken expression, or the fact that she was just standing in the middle of Yoongi’s bedroom. Urgently, Yoongi put space between her and himself, dropping back into his composed attitude, like nothing had occurred at all. 

Ambling forward calmly, Yoongi yanked one of Hoseok’s earpods out, Hoseok grinning at him cheekily and switching off the music on his phone. Still standing in the center of the room motionless, Y/N gawked at Yoongi’s flawless attempt to appear normal and nonchalant. 

“Foxy, you trying to blow out your eardrums?” Yoongi grumbled, frowning deeply when Hoseok plopped down on the leopard hybrid’s bed. “Dude, you’re fucking soaked. Get off my bed.”

Hoseok did nothing of the sort, simply repeating his question about dinner, flicking his sweaty bangs off of his forehead with a smirk and leaning back on Yoongi’s cushy beige comforter smugly. 

“I don’t know when dinner will be ready. I was going to make something carb-heavy because I have a game tomorrow night. There’s pasta dough in the fridge…” Yoongi began tying up his hair with a purple scrunchie Y/N had got for him at work, the sight of him both using it and the fact that he didn’t let her put up his hair for the first time in weeks, making her chest squeeze in pain. “Can you help roll out the pasta for the machine, Foxy? I think Y/N mentioned she wanted to shower before dinner, which honestly you should be doing instead of perspiring all over my bed.”

Y/N hadn’t mentioned taking a shower before dinner at all, and she didn’t know if Yoongi wanted space from her and didn’t want to come out and say it, but the lie stung nonetheless. 

“Ah, I’ll shower before bed. Especially if I’m going to be covered in sweat and flour,” Hoseok heaved himself off of Yoongi’s bed, following Yoongi to the door and out into the hall. 

Willing her legs to move, Y/N felt her throat grow thick, confused and left out in the cold. Swiftly, she made her way into her bedroom once she was confident Hoseok and Yoongi were in the kitchen, hastily getting right into the shower so she could put off a crying session. Having red eyes and a swollen face at dinner wasn’t appealing to her, and would attract way too many questions. 

There was a lot for her to think about surrounding the state of her and Yoongi’s relationship now, but Y/N knew if she dwelled on it for too long, her attempt to keep tears at bay would be spoiled. She would give anything to pull the memory of her night at The Black Lodge with Yoongi out of the deep corners of her mind; to relive it, to understand her thought process and how her brain absorbed it. Her body felt weakened after the intensity of what she had learned, head pounding and legs like jelly, and she wasn’t sure if she could make it through dinner acting like everything was okay when she really just wanted to burrow into her bed for the next three weeks. 

Y/N took her sweet time massaging her jasmine lotion into her skin, selecting a warm set of pajamas, and even tidying up some clutter around her room to make sure she was only in the kitchen long enough to choke down some food before she could pull her cozy quilt over her head and sleep away all of her confusing thoughts. It would be damn near impossible for her to get out of the nightly movie routine she had created with all of the boys, and it was her turn to pick out the movie that night as well, but perhaps she could act like she was too exhausted to stay up past dinner. 

Taking Yoongi to his game the following day ought to be awkward. It wasn’t like they could exactly continue their conversation– the rest of the hybrids were going to tag along, so they could grab some dinner afterwards and have a nice Saturday night out on the town. In reality, she wasn’t sure she’d get more one-on-one time with Yoongi until their next piano lesson, if he kept dragging other hybrids into helping him with meals rather than her. 

Slapping moisturizer onto her face, Y/N stared at herself in the old silver mirror hanging over her sink vanity, miraculously appearing pretty normal despite the pure bewilderment she was still experiencing. There was barely detectable puffiness around her lash lines, probably from the effort of holding back frustrated tears in the shower, and she was fairly positive no one would even notice– that is, unless Taehyung got close up to her face, which was always a frequent occurrence. 

 Hoseok 🦊: dinner’s ready, darling~~~

Y/N’s phone chimed, a message and photo coming in from Hoseok. He sent her a selfie, flour dusted across his nose, holding up a plate of fettuccine alfredo, with broccoli and chicken, from the looks of it. Immediately, she saved the picture and added it as his contact photo, loving the little grin on his face– it replaced the former incredibly attractive photo of him post-track meet sweaty and smirking at the camera. Brightening upon seeing Hoseok’s good-natured, radiant smile, Y/N felt a whole lot better about heading out into the kitchen. Whatever was going on between her and Yoongi would eventually be sorted out and addressed, but it wasn’t fair to the others for her to hole up in her room and ignore their nightly routines.

Exiting her room, she headed straight to Namjoon’s half-open door, the crackly sound of his Walkman playing an old Bob Dylan tape filling his cozy space. The room was filled with lamplight, and Namjoon even had a stick of amber incense going on his desk, and she felt immense comfort in even just hanging out in the threshold of his door. However, the wolf hybrid wasn’t in either of his usual spots– the wooden desk chair or the cushy window seat. 

“Joonie?” Y/N called out softly, wondering if he had popped out to his van to retrieve a book or something. 

In response to the sound of his nickname being called, the door to Namjoon’s bathroom creaked open, a mumbled ‘hold on’ coming from him gruffly. Y/N took it upon herself to enter his room further; ever since his birthday, Namjoon really didn’t have a problem with her in his space, and often invited her into his room when he wanted her opinion on something. Typically, it was over a Tarot card meaning or her thoughts on a passage in a book he was reading; Y/N thought it was really sweet of him, and besides– she loved talking to Namjoon, he was insightful and overwhelmingly intelligent. 

Finally, the wolf hybrid emerged from his steamy bathroom, silvery hair towel-dried and ears similarly damp. It looked like he haphazardly threw on a wrinkly gray sleep shirt and sweatpants, Y/N realizing she must have caught him just out of the shower. The reality of that had her stomach flipping over, sheepishly cowering by his desk as he tossed his towel into the hamper and turned the volume down on his Walkman. 

“Is that tape one of the ones you got from the music store last time?” Y/N tried not to snort at the reediness of Bob Dylan’s croon, Namjoon meeting her at his desk and stubbing out the burning stick of incense. “I thought you only saved the ones that weren’t grating,” Y/N recalled Namjoon’s comment from that day, which seemed years ago, with a fond, teasing smile. 

Namjoon shook his head with a playful grimace, catching her gaze out of the corner of his eyes. He smelled really good, homey and masculine, and he was close enough for Y/N to try and pick out the top notes of his body wash: honey, musk, pine?

“Believe me. Dylan was one of the least grating of the bunch,” Namjoon responded, a dimple appearing on his cheek as the corner of his mouth curled up into a smirk. “Besides. ‘Visions Of Johanna’ is one of the most beautiful songs ever written. Lyrically speaking.”

“I’ll make sure to give it a listen, if that’s what you think,” Y/N automatically responded, already adding the song to a queue on her phone. Lately, she’d been getting really fantastic music recommendations from each hybrid, which was a lovely thing to share with them. It allowed her a tiny window into all of their different, complex personalities. “Dinner’s ready, by the way. Wanted to grab you before I headed to the kitchen.”

“I know. Yoongi texted all of us,” Namjoon reached down to ruffle Y/N’s hair, as if she was being silly for even telling him. 

“Oh, really?” Y/N squeaked quietly, following Namjoon around his bedroom like a lost puppy. He was tidying up, something Y/N noticed he tended to do before bed (otherwise, he’d be sleeping with encyclopedias and chess pieces). “Hoseok texted me…”

“Yeah, in the group chat,” Namjoon murmured distractedly, not minding that Y/N was hovering behind him like a phantom while he stacked loose pieces of parchment onto his nightstand, her eyebrows furrowing. “That’s usually how Yoongi lets us know food is ready.”

Y/N didn’t know how to respond. Apparently, all the hybrids had a group chat between one another, one that didn’t include her, and she didn’t quite know how to feel about that. She wasn’t even sure if Namjoon realized that he had revealed a secret– perhaps it wasn’t and she was just unobservant– but he sensed something was up when she was quiet, looking over his shoulder inquisitively. 

“What’s the matter? You look like I just stole candy from you,” Namjoon accused, though his eyes were soft and filled with concern. “Your eyes are a little puffy, too, have you been crying? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, Namjoon, I’m okay. Just tired, is all,” Y/N didn’t even care if Namjoon could sniff out her lie, considering everything she had gone through that day. She didn’t have a shred of energy left to try and hide her emotions from her hybrids, and Namjoon usually wasn’t one to pry, so she prayed he’d take the hint. “Let’s go eat, okay?”

Before she could get too far, Namjoon caught a hold of her shoulders, two large palms settling over the joints and spinning her around so he could get a good look at her face. She was shaking, slightly, under his strong grip, eager to escape the scrutiny of those penetrating eyes of his. 

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but don’t lie to me. If you’re upset, at least don’t try to cover it all up,” Namjoon said firmly, leveling a stern look her way. 

“Joon, please…” Y/N used her hands to ease his off of her, resigned. “It’s nothing, just some stress. I’ll be fine after I get some sleep tonight.”

Namjoon looked unconvinced, some unknown emotion flashing through his eyes, Y/N squeezing his hands before releasing them. She swore she could hear low growling coming from deep within his chest, but he composed himself and lightly cleared his throat, jerking his head towards the hallway. 

“Okay, I’ll drop it,” Namjoon began heading out to the foyer, Y/N close behind. “Maybe you should read a book before bed to relax and get some good sleep. You’re really tense, I felt it in your shoulders. Have Yoongi make you some tea, too.”

Jolting at the mention of the very hybrid causing her rise in blood pressure, Y/N made a noncommittal noise. On the other hand, Namjoon’s kind consideration and concern for her well-being had butterflies coasting in her stomach. 

“You’re sweet, Joonie,” Y/N murmured, mirroring his earlier action by reaching up high to ruffle his still-damp starlight hair. “Pick out a book for me, please?”

Though he was in front of her leading the way to the kitchen, Y/N could see the very tips of his human ears turn red as he grunted out an embarrassed ‘okay’. Namjoon, she found out, was more of a softie than she originally understood. Besides, he always picked out excellent books she’s never read before, which was a bonus. 

The kitchen was warm and thick with the smell of roasted chicken and buttery, cheesy pasta, Y/N’s mouth watering against her will. Spite started to well up inside of her, surpassing her confusion and melancholy, and she desperately prayed to the sky that somehow Yoongi had screwed up the seasoning so she would have an excuse to not enjoy his food. Following Namjoon with a swish of his silvery tail, Y/N begrudgingly slunk further into the room. 

She caught sight of Taehyung first, seated at the breakfast nook by himself, adjusting settings on the camera strapped around his neck. His hair was wild and curly like he just washed it, a vibrant multicolored, vintage-looking sweater slipping over his wrists giving him sweater paws. Cooing, Y/N made a beeline for the Kodiak hybrid– trying with all her might to appear as unaffected as Yoongi took garlic bread out of the oven and shot the breeze with Jimin about the cold weather. Taehyung was a more than wonderful distraction.

“Hi, Tae,” Y/N scooched into the booth, having no trouble cozying up to his furnacelike side, his chest rumbling as he instinctively used one of his arms to hook around her shoulders and pull her closer. “Working on something for the next expo? It’s a week before Christmas, right?”

Smiling with his mouth closed, Taehyung let Y/N wiggle closer into his warmth, wordlessly passing his camera over and resting his nose in her hair as she took it gingerly. Being pressed up so closely against him, Y/N could feel his chest expand with the deep inhale he took, Y/N so used to him and Jimin taking a whiff of her hair daily that it didn’t even register as odd to her anymore. Turning on the camera’s display, Y/N flicked through a couple of Taehyung’s latest works, his editing more streamlined than ever before and each shot more creative than the next. The subjects were images of nature, primarily the backyard and around the neighborhood, but taken from unique angles and using natural light in interesting ways. 

“You’re getting so good at this, Tae. Pretty soon, you’ll have people asking to take wedding pictures for them!” Y/N passed his camera back to him, resisting the urge to totally curl into him or climb into his lap. He was just too cuddly. 

“Thank you,” Taehyung now offered her his toothy smile, wide and showing just how beautiful it made his face, conveying joy contrary to his ever-so-quiet voice. “I still need to work on taking portraits. That’s the assignment for next week…”

“Well it’s fortunate that you live with seven other people to practice on, huh?” Y/N teased, loving the flush that dusted his cheeks and tip of his nose. 

Their moment was interrupted by a black shadow, Y/N somewhat peeling herself off of Taehyung a tad to look up. It wasn’t a black shadow at all, however, it was just Jeongguk– dressed all in black, naturally, and with an enormous bowl of pasta and chicken in his hands. 

“How was your day, Jeongguk? The Tarantino movies you guys were watching… which one was your favorite?” Y/N reached across the table to poke the top of his hand with each word she was speaking to capture his attention, knowing that doing so usually irritated him enough to answer her questions. Since Halloween, though, he’d been much less easily perturbed, and usually regarded her attempts to agitate with amused midnight-black eyes. 

“Kill Bill. The first one, not the second. Pulp Fiction was good, but didn’t live up to all of that bullshit hype college kids drone on and on about,” Jeongguk playfully slapped her hand away from him so he could pick up a fork and start eating, a tiny wry grin pulling up the corners of his mouth. 

“I don’t think I really liked any of them,” a new voice joined the conversation, Seokjin filling up the last empty space in the booth beside Y/N, miraculously balancing three bowls of pasta on his forearm to deliver to Y/N and Taehyung. “Gory, lots of swearing and violence.”

“Grow some balls, Pink Panther,” Jeongguk rolled his eyes, Y/N finding it extremely difficult not to laugh– he was quick on his feet to come up with that nickname, since Seokjin was wearing his favorite ballet-pink hoodie. “Why am I surprised? You could barely make it through an episode of Tokyo Ghoul, and that’s fuckin’ animated blood.”

“Oh, leave him be, Jeongguk. Action or gore isn’t everyone’s cup of tea, and that’s totally okay,” Y/N emphasized her point by using her slipper-clad foot to collide lightly with his shin under the booth, a free hand coming up to smooth over Seokjin’s back affectionately. “Also, it’s hard to take you seriously when you’re talking over a mouthful of half-chewed chicken.”

There was Seokjin’s squeaky-sounding laugh coming from her right, Jeongguk rolling his eyes again, taking a swig of whatever cocktail he had made for himself. Looking down at the food Yoongi made and Seokjin had brought to her, she felt her stomach turning. While it looked and smelled delicious, she didn’t want to give Yoongi the satisfaction of horking the whole plate down right away. Instead, she watched everyone in the booth tuck in promptly, Y/N glowering at her slab of garlic bread with feigned disinterest. 

“Not hungry?” Taehyung’s voice was in her ear, as always, low and indulgently rich. Concern lit up his eyes, his fork and knife paused mid-air as he studied the side of her face, even giving an animalistic sniff in her direction. 

“I had a big lunch,” Y/N admitted, even though that was a bit of a lie. She had been so nervous about her piano lesson with Yoongi earlier in the day, all she could choke down at lunchtime was a handful of baby carrots and hummus. 

Taehyung lifted a brow, definitely not buying the lie, but let it go without a word, mercifully. Y/N discovered that keeping her emotions under wraps from everybody while thoughts of Yoongi swirled around in her head constantly was more challenging than anything she had dealt with before. 

Yoongi’s words kept echoing like a pagan chant in her ears: ‘I know how you feel. About us, all of us’. Was Yoongi that keen, already able to intimately decipher her emotions and feelings through scent alone, or was she painfully obvious about her embarrassingly large crushes on each hybrid she adopted? Flames licked her cheeks, and she afforded a look past Seokjin’s wide shoulders to Yoongi sitting beside Jimin at the island, his back to her. Even now, Y/N could detect a whisper of tension threading through the lean muscles of his back through his shirt, and though she was puzzled– at best– by everything that went down between them in the last few hours, she was pleased to see how much he had filled out with muscle between consistent meals and his basketball practices. 

Sighing lightly, Y/N picked her way through her meal once tearing her eyes from Yoongi, not wanting to attract more attention by not eating dinner. Besides, her stomach was beginning to make embarrassing rumbling sounds, earning an annoyed side-eye from Namjoon across the room, pointedly using the tip of his nose to gesture towards her untouched plate. She resisted the split-second impulse to stick her tongue out at him, reconsidering upon remembering how intimidating Namjoon could be when teased. 

Throughout dinner, Y/N distracted herself from her thoughts and the lack of typical banter she’d have with Yoongi by cozying up to Seokjin and Taehyung; asking them about their preferences for birthday meals during fast-approaching December. Jeongguk asked her if she happened to celebrate Christmas– she replied yes; while her and her mother celebrated the pagan holiday of Yule, her father was more of a traditionalist and loved Christmas. 

“Yule lasts several days, and is made up of just some quiet rituals and whatnot– burning a Yule log, for example. But my dad adores all of the fun traditions of Christmas he had growing up, so he wanted to share that with me, too. We’d deck out the house in all of the lights, bake a thousand Christmas cookies, go out every year to pick out a tree… watch holiday movies in corny matching pajamas. My mom called it ‘Commercial Christmas’, but it was always really fun, and she was just poking fun at how silly my dad can get with it,” Y/N explained to the elk hybrid, him nodding along to her words while pushing broccoli around on his plate. “Oh! And there’s a Holiday Market in the city, too, if you guys are interested in checking that out next month. Food, decorations, music, all of that.”

It dawned on Y/N that her hybrids had likely never celebrated Christmas in the way she had in her youth. She had similar thoughts before, based on each of their strange, varied behaviors during the last three birthdays and Halloween, as well. It had her lower lip jutting out slightly, and she knew that perhaps the reason she worked so hard to make these events extra special in the past few months was because she was making up for their lost years of merriment and celebration of milestones. 

Dwelling on that, she totally zoned out at the breakfast nook, only coming to when Seokjin collected her near-empty plate from her, snapping back to reality when he stood and her hand slipped from the middle of his back, where she was absently rubbing circles into the cozy material of his hoodie. All the jaguar hybrid did was flash her a sweet smile, bringing the dishes to the sink with a purr. 

Shaking off her nerves, Y/N also rose from her seat, taking Taehyung with her so she’d have an excuse to cling to someone (and avoid Yoongi), by pulling him by the loose sleeve of his sweater, the Kodiak hybrid happily being hauled away from his camera and half-drunk glass of wine. Taehyung was one of the hybrids that didn’t drink as much as the others, or even Y/N herself, so sometimes a half of a glass of wine was all he needed for a pretty flush to color his cheeks and his tongue to loosen. 

“What are we watching tonight, Y/N? Nothing scary, I pray?” Y/N managed to scoop Jimin up in her grasp, as well, his expression filled with trepidation as she sandwiched herself between the two hybrids and dragged them into the parlor. 

The fire was roaring, and Taehyung broke free from her hold on his sweater to add another log to the tall flames in the fireplace– he was very serious about keeping it going strong until everyone headed off to bed, like it was an unspoken household duty he felt responsible for completely. Thankfully, he was quick to return to her, eager to claim one of the spots on either of her sides before anyone else could. As Ben had joked about over the phone with her, the hybrids did almost claw at each other in order to get a seat next to her on the couch, even Jeongguk, at that point. With Jimin and Taehyung being the ‘lucky’ ones that night, Y/N didn’t have to worry about sitting awkwardly inches away from Yoongi. 

“No, sweet pea, nothing scary. Just for you and Hoseok, though… on second thought, Seokjinnie, too. I’ll save the horror marathons for another time. I was thinking we could watch something funny?” 

Jimin’s shoulders relaxed downwards several inches, and his ears perked back up to their natural position as he handed her the remote, soothed that she wasn’t about to repeat her surprise showing of Suspiria from last month. Hoseok had to leave the room during the last few scenes of that one, in fact. 

Y/N scrolled through the options in her digital library, avoiding romcoms at all costs, landing on some random comedy with Owen Wilson and Vince Vaughn. She needed something mindless, something that required not much critical thinking, so she could forget about the tangled cobwebs clogging up the cavity that once held her brain. 

The room slowly filled up with the rest of the hybrids, Hoseok tossing wrapped Klondike bars to everyone, Jeongguk taking up the recliner; Namjoon took his usual seat at Y/N’s feet, while Seokjin and Yoongi ended up sitting on the floor next to the couch. Yoongi minded his business, not even sending Y/N a glance as he sank to the floor with his glass of wine. Seokjin didn’t seem pleased that he was so far from Y/N, but knew that her rotating who she sat next to was in an effort to be fair– and he respected that. 

“I know how you feel. About us, all of us.”

“Ben, can you just listen before you say ‘I told you so’?” Y/N stirred cream into her coffee, her lower eyelid twitching when she tasted the concoction on her tongue. Somehow, ever since Yoongi started making her coffee for her each morning, she couldn’t seem to make her favorite ratio quite as precise as he did– even though she had been making it perfectly fine years before he took up the task for her. “I’ll let you say it all you want after I get some of this off my chest.”

Saturday morning, Y/N met up with Ben in the city at their favorite brunch spot on Newbury street, leaving all of her hybrids at home for a lazy morning by themselves. It was rare these days that she’d carve out time to go out with her human friends without at least one of the boys tagging along with her, but miraculously, she was able to break free for a few hours to catch up– or vent– with Ben. Ben cocked an eyebrow at her, taking a measured sip of his mimosa.

“I can do that, but first–” Ben reached into his briefcase, rummaging around within the depths of the leather bag, boldly pulling out a nip of Kahlua and swiftly dumping it into Y/N’s coffee. “You look like you’re one inconvenience away from a nervous breakdown. Happy Saturday, have a drink.”

“Thanks,” Y/N grimaced, sucking down the entirety of the scalding, now spiked, coffee in one go, Ben waving his hand as if to say ‘don’t mention it’. “Christ, I don’t even know where to start…”

Y/N had spent the night tossing and turning, even after the stupid movie she watched with the hybrids and a few shots of gin, waking up with dark circles under her eyes and two hours of sleep under her belt. In those two hours, she had dreams of red curtains, whiskey-scented whispers, piano, and hazel, feline eyes. 

“I think I have an idea of where this is going,” Ben broke the ice after several moments, once the waiter came by to take their brunch orders and bring another round of drinks. This time, Y/N got herself a mimosa, too. “Let me guess. You fell for one of them.”

Y/N felt her stomach drop, the Kahlua, coffee, and champagne churning in her gut as Ben stared at her expectantly. Ben was always quick to pick up on how Y/N felt, particularly when it had to do with her romantic life, but it wasn’t like she was around him enough these days for him to observe her around all of her hybrids… fell for one? She had to laugh, and the sound came out snorted and pathetic. 

“Oh, it’s worse than I thought. More than one? Taking cues from those reverse-harem animes you used to love in high school, huh?” Ben pressed, his nose scrunching up upon hearing the braying donkey laugh Y/N was trying to cover up by chugging her mimosa, a swig of it going down her windpipe. 

“Nnn–ugh! Fuck me, Ben. Lower your voice,” Y/N coughed into her cloth napkin, frantically glancing around the restaurant as if she was being surveilled.

“Relax, Y/N, they’re not even here. They can’t hear you all the way from the Haunted Mansion, even with hybrid ears. Get on with it, spill. You’ll feel better,” Ben pushed a hand through his coiffed red hair, sucking his teeth as he assessed Y/N’s frazzled appearance and erratic behavior. She must have looked like a nutcase. 

“I… Stop looking at me like that! If you’re so smart, you must have pieced together everything already, so why bother?” Y/N accused, but when Ben simply hardened his cerulean gaze, Y/N knew that he was encouraging her to talk through her feelings rather than squirreling them away until she exploded. “Fine. Yeah, okay. I have a crush on them, all of them, as a matter of fact, if that’s even humanly possible… and I know what you’re thinking, I’m batshit, I’m gross, and I’ve put myself in a horrible scenario.”

“Y/N, will you just take a breath, please? We’ve been friends for over a decade. Nothing you say to me is going to scare me off or make me ‘shame’ you Cersei-Game-of-Thrones-style. So, you’re attracted to all seven of them? I mean seriously, Y/N, I can’t blame you, and if you called Laura or Alice, they wouldn’t either. They’re all gorgeous,” Ben leaned back in his seat, both seriousness and amusement dancing across his features. 

Y/N wrestled the champagne bottle resting in the tableside bucket of ice up and out of the shards, pouring herself another glass and completely ignoring the orange juice pitcher nearby that would make her mimosa, well, a mimosa. 

“You know, Y/N… humans and hybrids can be in romantic relationships, and before you fly off of the handle, let me finish! Listen, I know, you know, and your hybrids know that you didn’t adopt them to use-and-abuse, obviously. You’ve always been a romantic, Y/N, it’s not like you can control how you feel, especially when it comes to love.”

Processing this, Y/N gawked at Ben, suddenly unable to come up with any kind of retort. Their waiter came by with their food, and the smell of Y/N’s French toast made her utterly nauseous as soon as it was placed in front of her. Grimacing, she pushed the plate to the side, Ben smirking over a bite of crispy bacon. 

“Love…” Y/N squeaked, the four-letter-word wheezing from her chest painfully, Ben having the nerve to roll his eyes. 

“You do love them, don’t you? Besides the fact that it's obvious to me, as your wonderful best friend, when you fall, you fall hard,” Ben nudged Y/N’s plate back in front of her, sticking a fork in her hand with mischief in his eyes. “It’s a different kind of love– but I love Daisy, she’s my daughter, and I can’t imagine my life without her anymore. That must be similar to how you feel, no?” 

For at least a month, Y/N kept herself in blissful, complete denial, trying to squash down her feelings as best she could in an effort to keep them from the hybrids. She didn’t know if she was fooling them, because she definitely wasn’t fooling Ben, who looked like he was trying to refrain from laughing. The more she thought about her recent behavior; stuttering, blushing, heart racing, constant cuddling, the more stupid she felt. 

“God, I’m a moron,” Y/N stuffed a piece of French toast into her dried-out mouth, the consistency like glue as she chewed. “They probably already know and are just too nice to reject me. Or they’re scared to.”

Ben didn’t say anything, just letting Y/N come to terms with the startling realization: she loved them. Seven different men, she was in love with seven, and the gravity of that realization was driving her to silent lunacy.

“Whatever scenario you’re coming up with in your head, stop it, you’ll start panicking,” Ben reached across the table to grasp Y/N’s hand lightly, his thumb smoothing over the back of it. “It’s kind of a scary, tricky… uh, delicate, subject, but how would you feel about maybe just talking to them about it instead of bottling things up? Even at the cookout in August, I could tell most of them cared about you quite deeply.”

“Can you imagine that conversation, Ben? ‘Hey guys, I know we’re in the middle of dinner and it’s not like you can get away from me after this, but I accidentally fell in love with all of you, so that’s why I’ve been walking around like a bumbling idiot’,” Y/N hissed, her face going hot just by visualizing that scene in her head. “Also, I haven’t even told you what happened yesterday, and if a confession to the seven of them went anything like what went down last night, I’d have to move to a rock out in the middle of the sea.”

 Motioning for her to explain, Y/N launched into the long, complicated report on her interaction with Yoongi post piano lesson, speaking in a hurried and hushed tone. Ben listened carefully, but Y/N chose to leave out some of the more supernatural aspects of her first meeting with Yoongi in The Black Lodge– Ben was a skeptic, at best, so she told him she had gotten too drunk and forgot about meeting Yoongi. By the time she had ended her story with how Yoongi seemed to be acting like nothing happened, Ben’s eyebrows were knitted and their breakfasts had long since been polished off and forgotten. 

“Uh…” Ben leaned back in his seat after he was stunned speechless for several moments, robotically passing his credit card to the waiter, his free hand coming up to rub his close-cut beard. “You weren’t bullshitting me with that text last night. That’s a lot to unpack.”

“Yeah, tell me about it. He pretty much revealed to me that he knows I’m crushing on them all, totally called me out on it. Even went as far as saying it wouldn’t be long before the others figure it out, too,” Y/N moaned miserably into her hands, covering her face exhaustedly. 

“Y/N… from what you told me,” Ben started gently, as if he was trying not to spook a nervous animal. “I think Yoongi likes you too. I mean, he waited for a year for you to remember him, he said he enjoyed talking to you, and honey– he kissed you. You shouldn’t take that bit lightly, either. Predator hybrids like Yoongi, specifically the big cats or canines, are extremely selective when it comes to choosing their romantic partners. To them, it’s like finding their mate.”

“I– no. If that was the case, he would have told me, I’m sure of it. You’ve seen him, right? Met him? He’s gorgeous, funny, caring, can cook like a dream and is a talented pianist; he could have anybody he wants, and I’m not exempt from that, and he knows it… so that’s my reasoning, I guess.”

“Why are you spewing nonsense? You’re starting to tick me off. You were never this full of self doubt in the past, especially over a man. You have to talk to him about this, sooner rather than later. Tell him how you feel, and don’t beat around the bush. And even though I’m almost positive that he likes you romantically, you two need to sort it out before the others catch on and it spirals into something even more tangled,” Ben, as they prepared to leave the restaurant, helped Y/N shrug into her coat, his hands on her shoulders as he gave her a necessary reality check– though his expression was sympathetic and full of concern. “I’ll help you out. I can borrow a couple of your guys on Monday to watch Daisy while I go into the office, and you see if you can somehow get Yoongi alone, okay?”

“Monday…” Y/N blanched, not prepared to throw caution to the wind and admit her feelings that soon. “I-I guess I can make that work. Seokjin and Joonie will be at the library with my mom for the book club, Tae at the rec center preparing for his next expo…”

“Alright. I’ll take the other three for babysitting– the cowboy, the grump, and Foxy, am I correct?” Ben attempted to lighten the mood, holding the restaurant door open for Y/N with a wry grin. “You can do this, Y/N. You’re a smart, beautiful young woman, and I know how much you love those boys. They all deserve to know how much you do– but start with Yoongi.”

Y/N made a noncommittal, grumbling noise, grinding her teeth as the bitter wind whipped through the streets of Boston. Autumn was nearly over, and the harsh winter was well on its way, Christmas decorations already beginning to pop up on certain storefronts. 

“If it goes to shit, I’m calling you. You know how I am with romantic confessions. Remember Liam in high school? I broke out in hives asking him to homecoming,” Y/N muttered, grabbing Ben’s hand and shoving their joined palms into his coat pocket, her best friend snickering at the memory. “Can we change the subject? I’m starting to feel itchy. You can still swing by Copley with me, right?”

“Yeah, I have some time. What are you going there for?” Ben steered her in a different direction than they were going, cutting through some side streets to get to the mall. 

“I’m picking up some things for Seokjin’s birthday, it’s coming up really soon. I found some cookware online I think he’d like, he’s been into culinary pursuits recently,” Y/N felt some of her anxiety dissipate as she thought about sweet Seokjin. He had pouted that morning when she left to meet Ben, and it was hard to pry him off of her as she was heading out the front door. 

“Oh! That reminds me. Has Sarah gotten in touch with you?” 

“She did, actually. We’re planning to meet at some point after the holidays, probably in January. I don’t know if I should tell Seokjin, or keep it a surprise for a little while…” Y/N bit her lip, recalling the pleasant email exchanges she had with the woman who had adopted Hannah. 

“With everything you’ve got going on right now, I think it’s alright to hold off on telling him until the plan is more concrete. Focus on the two birthdays you have coming up, Christmas, and sorting out the thing with Yoongi,” Ben shrugged, squeezing Y/N’s fingers as they ambled down the frosty sidewalk. 

“Shit. I have to order Christmas presents soon…” Y/N used her free hand to pinch the bridge of her nose, thanking the sky that she had that extra income from the boarded horses– gifts for seven hybrids and her other friends and family would certainly add up cost-wise. “I wish I had an assistant to keep track of everything I have to do.”

“Ah, you say that, but I haven’t seen you this happy in years, Y/N,” Ben countered, winking at her. “Even with all of the romantic drama, adopting those boys brought you back to life.”

“Stop being sappy, I’ll cry. Seriously, I will! They’re not around to fuss over me right now and I can do so freely, and that’s an opportunity I would take if you keep it up,” Y/N nudged Ben in the ribs, separating from him as they reached the revolving doors of Copley Place. 

Once in the toasty mall, she and Ben changed the direction of their conversation, Y/N feeling merry despite the looming task of confronting Yoongi in two day’s time. They made plans to have a holiday get-together at her house, with Roy and Daisy, and the Santos twins as well, all while piling items into a cart for Seokjin’s birthday. 

“Come on, sweets, won’t you do it for me?” Y/N was perched on the velvet bench at the foot of Jeongguk’s bed, attempting to convince him to go willingly to Ben’s for ‘babysitting’ early Monday afternoon. She tried to make her eyes as doelike as possible, Jeongguk chewing on his lip ring with his arms crossed, staring down at her. 

“That pouting doesn’t work on me. Go find literally anyone else in the house it does work on, Y/N,” Jeongguk tsked, pulling a few buttons loose on the creamy button-down he was wearing. 

“Okay, shithead. You want to be sassy today? Be my guest. Just saying though, Daisy has been asking for you. Ben says you’re one of her favorites,” Y/N bit back, just to see if guilting him was the way to go. Jeongguk simply shook his head, having the audacity to look amused by her outburst. She was already on edge, and his nonchalance and stubbornness did not make things better. “Maybe this will sweeten the pot. Ben said he was going to pay you guys.”

“Bribery, coercion, ass-kissing… you must really want me out of the house today,” Jeongguk drawled, turning away from Y/N as he used his floor-length mirror to clasp the necklace her mother gave him for his birthday around his neck. Through the thin material of his light-colored shirt, Y/N could faintly detect the black lines of the mystery tattoo on his back. 

“No, but it wouldn’t kill you, Jeongguk. Don’t you want to get out for a little bit? You, Hoseok, and Jimin can take Daisy to the playground in the Common, get some food, walk around…” Y/N refrained from flinching when the elk hybrid accurately called her out for shooing him out. 

“How the fuck can we go out without a human with us? Won’t the four of us get scooped up by agents and tossed back into Gerry’s shithole shelter? Besides, why does a four-year-old hybrid need three babysitters, aren’t Foxy and Blondie enough?” Jeongguk approached Y/N once more, using his thumb and forefinger to gently flick her forehead. 

“Ugh, you’re such a little shit,” Y/N rubbed the spot he flicked, even though it didn’t hurt at all. “I ordered you all ID’s, remember? They arrived this morning. If you get stopped, you show agents your ID, and it tells them that you’re adopted and can roam even without me being present. Daisy has one too, the version for children… She needed it for enrollment in her daycare.”

Jeongguk paused in contemplation, his eyes scanning her face thoughtfully as she squirmed on the bench under his scrutiny, one of his ears lazily twitching. It was a stare-down, Y/N needed to have that talk with Yoongi, and she wanted the conversation to be as private as possible, and Jeongguk seemed a touch suspicious. 

“You really want me to go babysit the bunny that badly?” Jeongguk narrowed his eyes, a spark of triumph lighting up inside of Y/N as she sensed him beginning to cave. 

“Yes, please! I’ll call in some baked ziti for you from Sal’s for dinner,” Y/N jumped to her feet, Jeongguk rolling his eyes and sticking his notebook into the pocket of his baggy black cargo pants. 

“Yeah, yeah. You’re only saying that because I’m doing you a favor, and you probably want pizza yourself, kiddo,” Jeongguk grunted as Y/N elbowed him in the ribs, scoffing at him indignantly. 

“I’m only like a year younger than you. ‘Kiddo’, really?” Y/N paused by his bedroom door, softening up once seeing the twinkle of merriment in Jeongguk’s dark eyes. 

Suddenly overwhelmed with affection for the elk hybrid, considering how much he had warmed up to her over the past few weeks, she leaned up on her tip-toes, lips brushing over his sharp cheekbone for a barely-there kiss while he froze to a complete stand-still. Pulling away as quickly as she could before he could say anything, she giggled at how round his eyes became before heading out to the hall. 

“Thanks for the favor, sweets. Ben will be here in 15 minutes to pick you and the other two up!” She called over her shoulder, hurrying away with the image of Jeongguk looking adorably stunned burned into her retinas. 

Bounding downstairs, Y/N managed to round up Jimin and Hoseok from the backyard, both of them more than willing to watch Daisy for a bit– the both of them practically doted on her. She handed out their new-and-shiny ID’s, Y/N smiling at the pictures on the cards. Staring at Jeongguk’s picture, with a serious expression on his face, she snorted at the way his antlers didn’t quite fit in the frame. 

“Tae did a nice job with all of your photos for these, huh?” Y/N gushed, brushing her fingertips over the tiny picture on Namjoon’s ID, which she’d have to give to him later. “Next time I get my license renewed, I want him to take my picture too, I always look washed out and horrendous in the ones taken at the DMV.”

“I doubt that, Y/N. You always look nice in pictures, even the ones Taehyung takes of you,” Jimin disagreed with her, grinning when she pinched his fleshy cheek bashfully. 

“Such a charmer, Jiminie. Aw, her heart’s racing,” Hoseok crooned, squeezing himself in between her and the coyote hybrid, a wicked smirk on his face as he patted his chest to mimic heartbeats.

Hissing, Y/N tried to step away from the teasing bastard, even more humiliated now, but Hoseok was far too quick for her to make a feeble human’s attempt at escape. Boldly, he grabbed her by the belt loops of her jeans, bending low to press one of his ears over her heart. Squeaking as she wiggled in his grasp, a few of his fingertips slipping into the waistband of her jeans to keep her in place, his skin burning hot with hybrid heat. 

“Hear that, Jiminie? It’s beating even faster now!” Hoseok continued gleefully, squeezing the flesh over her hip bones before he– mercifully– pulled away. “How cute, darling, you’re way too easy to flatter, and even easier to tease.”

“Hoseok,” Y/N used all of her strength to prevent herself from melting into the floorboards, not even noticing that Jimin’s shoulders were shaking with laughter and Jeongguk had crept into the foyer during the spectacle. “Stop fucking with me, the playing field isn’t even. I can’t hear your heartbeat, or smell your embarrassment, or whatever.”

“You could always try flattery, you have a knack for it,” Jeongguk leaned against the front door, seemingly recovered from the smooch she planted on his cheek only moments ago. 

“Brat,” Y/N sneered, though it was half hearted, and she was interrupted by a three-beat honk from outside. “Ooh, Ben’s here. Okay, I think you two have poked enough fun at me, get going. See you soon, sweetheart, have fun and be safe.”

Y/N murmured her last statement directly to Jimin, using a hand to shove Hoseok towards Jeongguk and out of the front door. Patting Jimin’s shoulder lightly, she leaned up to whisper into his ear. 

“You’re in charge, make sure those two don’t swear in front of Daisy, please,” though Y/N was whispering in Jimin’s ear, she was the one shivering with the proximity, intoxicating, dark lavender filling her senses and calming her steadily-climbing anxiety; it was almost time for her to look for Yoongi, who she hadn’t seen the entire day. 

“See you later, Y/N,” Jimin grinned like he knew something she didn’t, craning his neck sideways to press a kiss to one of her knuckles, her hand turning clammy as it slipped from his shoulder when he strolled out the front door. 

Y/N stood in the threshold of the door, watching the three hybrids get into Ben’s car, and stayed until Ben drove off down the street. The silence that followed their departure was eerie, Y/N wondering if Yoongi was taking a nap or was even in the house at all. Typically, during the early afternoon, the leopard hybrid would be messing around on the piano or reading a book in the parlor, but there was no music coming from upstairs and the heavily trafficked parlor was deserted and dark. Sighing, Y/N started to stack logs into the fireplace, knowing if Taehyung came home later and there was no fire, he’d be upset. She knew that she was stalling the inevitable, finding Yoongi and having the conversation she had been dreading for 48 hours, but she tried to summon courage to face him from the growing flames in the fireplace. 

Once she had mustered enough nerve, Y/N wandered through the house to find Yoongi. She searched every nook and cranny, every back hallway and hidden passageway, but clearly he wasn’t inside. Muttering under her breath, she dropped some clean laundry off in Namjoon’s room, pulling on the sherpa-lined jean jacket he had draped over his desk chair to prepare herself for traipsing around the yard. Inhaling Namjoon’s scent on the collar of his jacket, the oversized fabric swallowing her whole, she felt warmth fill her up with the notes of honey and Namjoon. 

“Fuck, it’s cold,” Y/N whimpered as soon as she opened the slider to the backyard, wrapping Namjoon’s coat more tightly around her torso. In the distance, horses were whinnying in the stable, and there were some creepy looking turkey vultures sitting in the naked oak tree next to the picnic table. “Where’s my angel…”

The sky was a gloomy gray, and Y/N wondered if snow was on the way with the way the frost-dusted grass was crunching under her feet. That quiet, still sensation just before a snowstorm was present, as well, which is why the echoing sound of a basketball striking asphalt made her jolt in surprise. Bingo. 

Weaving her way past the gate to the driveway and garage, Y/N let out a nervous breath, becoming a misty cloud of white in front of her. The turkey vultures in the oak tree started making their disturbing, guttural shrieks, sending a chill down her spine. Quickening her pace, butterflies started fluttering in her stomach as the basketball hoop came into view. 

Aware that Yoongi could both hear and smell her, she paused several feet away, eyes sweeping the area for the leopard hybrid. He was just there, she was sure of it, but he was nowhere in sight. 

“Yoongi? Where are you?” Y/N called, annoyed with the possibility that he was avoiding her on purpose. She knelt down, numb fingers grasping the acid-washed hoodie Yoongi must have tossed onto the ground, when a pair of sneakers appeared in her line of vision, she glanced up at the owner, swearing colorfully. 

Yoongi was staring down at her, basketball tucked under his arm, very sweaty and very much without a shirt. Mouth drying up, she felt a range of emotions flood through her; fluster, affection, happiness, concern, before finally landing on anger. 

“Oh my god, it’s like thirty degrees out here! Put this on,” Y/N impulsively threw his sweatshirt at him, hitting him square in the chest before it unceremoniously fell back onto the pavement. 

“I was too hot. Hybrid body heat, silly girl,” Yoongi replied simply, his old nickname for her making a comeback. Unfortunately for Y/N, paired with his damp, long hair and naked chest, it sent a bolt of arousal through her unexpectedly. Hopefully he couldn’t smell it. “What’s up? Where is everyone?”

Y/N read between the lines– that was Yoongi’s newest code for ‘find one of the others, I don’t want to talk to you’. Gritting her teeth, she managed to straighten up, forcing herself to look him in the eyes and not the dewy skin over his collarbones. 

“They’re all out. It’s just you and I, at the moment,” Y/N cleared her throat, getting a strong blast of vanilla-and-cloves as Yoongi passed a veiny hand through his sweat-dampened hair. “Please, for my sake, put on the sweatshirt. I don’t want you turning into a popsicle.”

“Nah,” Yoongi turned away from her, dribbling the ball and aiming to shoot it into the basket, his tail curling around his leg as it usually did when he’d play. “Why, don’t like what you see?”

Y/N’s eyes glazed over as she watched the muscles in his back move and flex, effortlessly sinking the ball into the basket and elegantly slinking to the hoop to retrieve the ball before it could bounce away. The pale skin of his chest was slightly flushed pink, making Y/N’s mouth water, and all at once she felt like a creep. 

“Cat’s got your tongue?” Yoongi drawled, his gravelly voice raising goosebumps on her flesh. Apparently, her hybrids felt like toying with her that day. 

Steeling herself, she approached Yoongi with determination, forgetting all about his sweatshirt, his expression growing curious and spotted ears flattening against his head at their proximity.

“Are you avoiding me again? We never finished our… conversation,” Y/N began, chickening out on professing her love right away, considering his lack of a shirt. 

“You reek like the wolf,” Yoongi dodged the question and subject entirely, moving like he was going to take another shot at the hoop. Before he could get far, Y/N reached out and yanked the basketball out of his hands, scowling. 

“We need to talk, Yoongi. You’ve hardly been able to stand in the same room as me longer than five minutes since that night,” Y/N averted her eyes from his face, finding it hard to look at him with all the emotions running through her. 

Yoongi sighed, the sound of it seemingly coming from the depths of his soul, scooping his sweatshirt off of the ground and shrugging it on. 

“Let’s go inside. Seokjin would die if he saw you out here without a hat,” Yoongi mumbled, resigned, and motioned for Y/N to follow him into the house. 

They were quiet, Y/N’s pulse thundering in her ears, positively dreading the conversation they were about to have. If Yoongi rejected her, she’d have to lock herself in her room to cry and  lick her wounds for hours, but if he didn’t… how on earth would she explain the situation between her and Yoongi to the others?

“So, what is there to ‘finish’ about our conversation?” Yoongi broke the silence as he followed her up to the music room– the most soundproof room in the house, lest someone come home early and interrupt them. Yoongi sounded bitter, like the words on his tongue tasted of grave dirt, Y/N wincing knowing that she was the cause of it. “I thought we wrapped it up already. What’s the use of beating a dead horse? We met before, you forgot, we kissed, now we’re here. End of story.”

“No, Yoongi, it’s not. I–” Y/N cut herself off, sinking down onto the couch with her head in her hands. “Let me apologize, first. I don’t want you to think that our kiss was a drunken mistake to me. I shouldn’t have insinuated that. I’m sorry, angel.”

Yoongi stiffened, at either her words or her nickname for him, she didn’t know. He remained standing in front of her, ears perked up and alert, hands shoved into the pocket of his hoodie. 

“I’m sorry I can’t remember. Believe me, I want to, more than anything. I’ve been having dreams, though, flashes of a memory. Maybe it will return to me, in time,” Y/N peeked at Yoongi through her fingertips, nervously chewing on her lip. 

“Y/N–” 

“Please, just, can you hear me out for a minute?” Y/N interrupted whatever warning he was undoubtedly trying to dole out, desperate to get it over with before she lost her nerve. “Last time we talked about this, you said you knew how I felt, about you, about the others, but I changed the subject.”

Yoongi nodded, his eyes narrowing and arms crossing over his chest, waiting for her to continue. Taking a deep breath, Y/N dropped her hands from her face, finally making eye-contact with the leopard hybrid, who appeared to be taking in all of her micro reactions. 

“You were right, or are right, about my feelings. I’m only starting to, um, understand those feelings, but you noticed them before I even realized they were there,” Y/N fidgeted with her fingers in her lap, growing hot in the face. “I’m sorry for hiding it, and I’m sorry if it makes you uncomfortable.”

Met with silence, Y/N’s worst fear was coming to life; he was going to reject her, their relationship would be permanently damaged, and her heart was going to shatter. Yoongi simply stared at her with that sharp feline gaze, a muscle in his jaw working and his expression giving away nothing as two what he was thinking. 

“I don’t want to lie to you anymore, and it’s totally fine that you don’t feel the same way, but I need to tell you,” Y/N’s voice became shaky, heart feeling like it was going to explode, ready to careen off the edge of no return. “I love you, Yoongi.”

The world went still, not even the birds outside chirping, and Y/N wasn’t confident that she was breathing anymore. Without a word, Yoongi turned on his heel, plopped down on the bench and slid a hand over the weathered keys of the piano. Baffled and heartbroken, Y/N sat frozen on the couch, stiff as a board and head spinning. 

Before her vision could go black, Yoongi began to play. Eyes snapping open, she couldn’t help the gasp that ripped from her chest; Yoongi was playing the song he had composed, the one he previously wouldn’t perform for her even upon her countless requests to. Though his face was blank of emotion, his playing certainly wasn’t, and the song almost breathed air as his hands floated across the keys. It was one of the most beautiful songs she had ever heard, so much so that she wasn’t even aware that she was crying until she felt the hot tears tracking down her cheeks. 

It was over too soon, the final note ringing out solemnly, Yoongi standing from the bench and heading towards the door, his ears flat against his head again. He stopped, hand twitching over the doorknob when he heard Y/N sniffle pathetically, looking over his shoulder. Heart bursting into smithereens at the look of anguish on his face, Y/N wanted to rush over to him, but couldn’t bear looking at him any longer. 

“I wrote that the day after we met. The first thing I composed in years. I wrote it for you.”

With that, Yoongi left the room, Y/N feeling her tears run down her neck, listening to the sound of him closing the door to his bedroom and turning on the tap to his shower. 

“So Y/N, it wasn’t exactly a rejection,” Laura soothed through the phone, Y/N humming noncommittally. She was in her car in the driveway, several days later, Seokjin’s birthday, his birthday cake sitting on the passenger seat beside her. 

“I don’t know what the fuck it was. He’s been walking around the house like a fucking ghost for days now, I think I broke him,” Y/N ran a hand through her hair, not believing that she had to resort to taking phone calls in her car to avoid eavesdropping. “I set out to see if I could fix things, or tell him my feelings, but now everything is even more messed up. I don’t know what to do.”

“Give him time, honey. He shouldn’t be leaving you hanging like that, but maybe it’s a lot to process for him. Your hybrids have been through a lot, he probably wasn’t expecting you to confront him,” Laura theorized, making Y/N snort. She had just accepted that Yoongi had been weirded out and didn’t reciprocate her feelings, but she humored Laura anyway. 

“Yeah, I know. I’ll keep you updated, I guess,” Y/N replied airily, eyes landing on the pink buttercream frosting spelling out Seokjin’s name on his cake, a small smile spreading across her face despite everything. “I gotta run, Laura. Have to round everyone up for Seokjin’s brunch.”

“Keep me updated!” Laura exclaimed urgently, Y/N grunting in response, before hanging up and hauling herself outside. She moved Seokjin’s cake to the trunk where his gifts were, making room for him to sit next to her during the ride to the restaurant. 

Y/N: Time to go! Reservation is at noon &lt;3

Hoseok 🦊: Jinnie looks so handsome on his birthday 🤧

Seokjinnie 🌸: -_-

Jimin 🦋: We’re coming!

Y/N: Can one of you please lock the door on the way out

Joonie 🐺: I got it.

Making sure the heat was cranked up in the cab for Seokjin, she watched the front door like a hawk, waiting for everyone to file out. They came out in pairs, first Jimin and Taehyung, then Hoseok and Seokjin. Last out was Jeongguk and Yoongi, followed by Namjoon diligently locking the door and even giving the handle a jiggle to ensure it was deadbolted. Feeling warm all over at the sight of them, all dressed up in their unique styles, Y/N grinned, even though her heart was still bleeding for Yoongi. She pushed that aside, for now, for Seokjin, determined to give him the best birthday ever. 

“It’s so cold! Fuckin’ Boston weather,” Hoseok whined, the first one to the car, sliding in the seat behind Y/N. “Would moving to Florida ever be an option?” 

“Hell no,” Y/N twisted her face up in disgust even thinking about swampy Florida summers. “We can visit someday, though. Go to Disney World or something.”

“Where are your gloves?” Seokjin climbed into the passenger seat, Namjoon begrudgingly giving up his designated spot for the birthday boy, pointedly narrowing his orange eyes at her bare hands on the steering wheel. 

“Oh, somewhere in the house. I don’t need them, we’re going from the car to the restaurant,” Y/N blushed when he took her hands in his, his thick lips puckering to blow warm air onto them. “Happy birthday, my Seokjinnie!”

“You’re old as fuck,” Jeongguk commented from the third row of seats, his hair slicked back with gel as Y/N glared at him in the rearview mirror. “30? Judas priest.”

“Have some respect for your elders, fuckface,” Hoseok defended Seokjin, a lazy smile on his face when Y/N turned around to back out of her spot in front of the house. 

“Please, stop swearing,” Jimin pinched the bridge of his nose delicately, making Y/N snort. 

She drove one-handed to the restaurant, one of them captured by Seokjin, who was doing the thing where he lightly traced his fingertips over her skin in endless patterns. He was purring, too, Y/N stealing glances of him every once in a while– Hoseok was right, he looked unbearably handsome. Shiny, wavy raven hair, a cozy plum-colored sweater, and his expression content and relaxed. 

When they arrived, Y/N had Namjoon and Taehyung help her bring in the cake and the gifts, never letting go of Seokjin’s hand once. She shouldn’t have noticed, but she did, that Yoongi was keeping a lot of space between them, sitting the furthest away from her at the table and silently reading the menu while everyone else chatted. If the other hybrids had noticed his odd behavior the past few days, they were very good at pretending they didn’t. 

Shaking her head, she put all of her attention on Seokjin, who still hadn’t released her hand. He wiggled in his seat happily, tail curling around her lower back, scooching his chair closer to Y/N. 

“What are you going to get?” Y/N leaned her cheek on Seokjin’s shoulder, reading his menu instead of her own. With a purr, Seokjin pointed out a few items, his teeth digging into his lower lip. “Ooh, that sounds yummy! Eggs benedict?”

They ended up ordering an obscene amount of food, Y/N passing on the mimosas so she could drive home uncompromised, but ordered a round for all of the hybrids. 

“So, how’s the book of the week so far?” Y/N asked Seokjin, who was taking a dainty sip of his mimosa. “A Christmas Carol, right?”

“Mm-hm. It’s a little early for Christmas stories in my opinion, though,” Seokjin cocked his head, a contemplative look on his face. “Have you been sleeping okay lately, Y/N?”

Seokjin was too kind to not point out the very obvious dark circles under her eyes, but she knew that was why he asked. Truthfully, she was lucky if she got three hours of sleep every night since she told Yoongi she loved him, but she couldn’t admit that to Seokjin. The last thing she wanted was to concern him on his birthday. 

“Yeah, I’ve just been having strange dreams that sometimes wake me up. I’m perfectly fine, though, honey,” Y/N attempted to soothe, Seokjin nodding and taking another swig of his mimosa. 

Thankfully, before he could pry, food arrived, and Y/N busied herself by stuffing her face so she didn’t have to talk. 

“This is the first time I’ve ever celebrated my birthday,” Seokjin admitted quietly, the food in front of him untouched as he seemingly soaked everything in. Chest squeezing, Y/N snaked an arm around his waist, pressing a kiss to his shoulder through his sweater. 

“Good thing you’ll have plenty more to celebrate each year, to make up for that,” she replied equally as soft, Seokjin’s eyes softening as he returned a kiss to her– his lips stamping affection on the crown of her head. 

Flushing, she caught Yoongi’s eyes across the table, that same blank look on his face from when he played the song for her days ago. Her song. Hurriedly looking back down at her food, she stuffed the emotion welling up inside her deep down. 

“Try this,” Seokjin interrupted her attempt to not wallow, a fork with a perfect bite of eggs benedict on it appearing in front of her face. 

Automatically, she opened her mouth like it was second nature; Seokjin often liked to feed her bites of his food like that, and she was never one to deny him. His lips twisted up into a smug smirk, using his free hand to cup her jaw like always, angling her face upwards so he could feed her the bite of his entree. She felt eyes on her from the whole table, but she couldn’t have cared less, locked in on the way Seokjin’s gaze was fixed on her mouth. 

“How is it?” Seokjin asked through his shit-eating grin, his touch vanishing but his tail still curled around her waist. 

“Mmm,” was all Y/N could articulate, swallowing slowly and unable to break free from his spell. 

“Spoiled,” Seokjin murmured, tutting. Heart falling to her ass, she gawked at his gorgeous side profile with utter disbelief, ears turning hot with humiliation and something else. 

“H-huh?” She squeaked, though the jaguar hybrid simply resumed eating, striking up a conversation with Hoseok a couple of seats down, still smirking. 

Reeling, Y/N managed to choke down the remainder of her meal, only snapping out of it when the waitresses came by with Seokjin’s cake, lit up with sparkler candles. Amazingly, Seokjin didn’t even flinch when the cake was placed in front of him, despite his usual aversion to things that were on fire or noisy, his cheeks rounding out as he read the top of his cake and blew out the candles. Hoseok sang a rather off-key version of “Happy Birthday” with the waitresses, and Y/N noticed that Taehyung had brought his camera with him, furiously taking pictures with flash of the entire event. 

“You got the lavender cake!” Seokjin exclaimed while Y/N was cutting a slice for him, pink frosting covering the pale purple sponge; a very Seokjin color scheme. 

“I did! You said you liked it a few months ago, I hope you still do,” Y/N pushed the plate in front of him, wondering if she should have a slice herself, considering how stuffed she was from all of the food Seokjin had just fed her. 

This time, Seokjin was the one blushing, mouth full of cake. Chuckling, she ruffled his hair, sliding plate after plate of cake down the table for each of the hybrids, astonished that they still had room in their tummies. 

“Okay, so what did you get Jinnie for his birthday? Did you snag him an audition on Masterchef?” Hoseok asked, frosting coating his lips. 

“Oh! Joonie, can you pass me those bags?” Y/N exclaimed, Namjoon getting up from his booth seat to deliver the three gifts at the head of the table, his damaged ear flickering when she called his name. 

Seokjin, who wasn’t quite as shy as he was when she first met him, accepted the first gift bag with pink ears despite all of his opening up. The whole table– apart from Yoongi, who excused himself to the bathroom minutes prior– watched Seokjin peer into the bag with rapt interest. 

The first gift was from her mother, a lovely vintage watch that Y/N had helped her pick out at a pawn shop recently. When she spotted it in the shop, it had Seokjin written all over it; elegant and classic, and went well with his polished wardrobe. Hoseok oohed and aahed, reaching across the table to strap it on Seokjin’s left wrist for him. Giggling, Y/N admired the way it looked on his slim wrist, leaning against his arm while he went for the other two gifts; several sweaters and shirts in various shades of pinks and neutrals, a pretty set of silver dangling earrings (Y/N noticed that he had two lobe piercings on his left ear, but didn’t have any earrings to put through them), and a set of brand-new Japanese knives. He loved every single gift, gushing over the knives in particular, but he had to slap Hoseok’s hand away when the fox hybrid attempted to put the earrings on Seokjin. 

Once the cake was eaten and plates were cleared away, Jeongguk and Namjoon both began to grow antsy, probably hoping to leave soon and get back to their routines. She handed her car keys to Taehyung beside her so he could pull the car around– he was the only one Y/N was confident that he knew how to drive, and Namjoon was known to speed– everyone following the Kodiak hybrid outside. Yoongi had long since returned from the bathroom, but once he saw that it was just Seokjin and Y/N waiting at the table to pay the bill, he too went out to the car. 

“Thank you, Y/N. Today was…” Seokjin trailed off, like he was at a loss for words. They were standing by the bar, waiting for his leftover cake to be boxed up, Seokjin straightening out Y/N’s coat and making sure it was clasped correctly. “Perfect.”

“My Seokjinnie,” Y/N cooed, wrapping her arms around his waist and burying her face in chest. She felt him purring, his own arms coiling around her back, rubbing circles over her coat. “I have one more thing for you.”

Pulling away, she chuckled at the look of bewilderment lighting up his features, Y/N reaching into the pocket of her coat for an envelope, offering it to him with a wink. Carefully, Seokjin tore the envelope open, fishing out the two pieces of paper from within and turning them over. His eyes scanned the text, his pupils blowing out wide and mouth dropping open once he registered exactly what he was holding.

“A cooking class,” Seokjin breathed, cheeks turning bright pink. “At Eataly?”

“Yeah! I heard the classes there are awesome, and in that class you get to have wine pairings with whatever you cook, you learn about the regions in Italy where the dishes come from. You’ve been so into cooking lately, and I thought the class would be perfect for you, especially with the wine pairing aspect,” Y/N explained, Seokjin hanging on every word and reading the tickets over and over. “It’s in February. I got two tickets, so you can take whoever you like. Hoseok, Yoongi, Joonie, it’s your choice!”

Seokjin froze, a curious look in his eyes, tucking the tickets back into the envelope and reaching for Y/N’s hand again. 

“You don’t wanna come with me?” Seokjin squeezed her hand, a frown on his face for the first time that day. Blinking, Y/N made a noise of surprise. 

“Me? You want me to take the class with you?” Y/N asked stupidly, Seokjin furiously nodding and his ears perking up. 

“I don’t want to take it with anyone but you,” Seokjin confirmed resolutely, taking his cake box from a waitress ogling him without so much of a glance in her direction. Heart soaring upon hearing those words, Y/N couldn’t help but give him another tight hug. 

“Okay, I’ll go with you. Can’t wait,” Y/N agreed, mouth full of his felt coat. 

Seokjin just grinned brilliantly, leaving her embrace, tugging her towards the door, where her Land Cruiser was double-parked with the rest of the hybrids. 

“Let’s go home,” Seokjin held the door to the restaurant open for her, uttering the statement like it had great meaning to him. 

Even though she shouldn’t have, she let Taehyung drive home, Yoongi sitting beside him, while Y/N squeezed into the backseat between Namjoon and Seokjin. It was halfway back to the house when she realized Taehyung wasn’t using GPS; he knew where home was by memory, or perhaps by heart. 

“It’s just a piano lesson, just act natural, like nothing’s wrong,” Y/N glared at herself in her bathroom mirror, pinching her own cheeks to bring life back into her complexion. “Just act like you aren’t in love with the teacher.”

Groaning, Y/N switched off the bathroom light, feeling a touch ill. She had barely spoken more than a handful of words to Yoongi in over a week, nerves still too raw. Last week, she skipped her lesson, not even bringing it up to the leopard hybrid, and spent much of that Friday out in the stable with Jimin taking care of the animals. That week, however, she ironically decided to face the music and resume with the lessons, an attempt to grasp a sense of normalcy between her and Yoongi. 

Y/N paused before she left her bedroom, shooting her crumpled sheets a dirty look. Sleep still evaded her, and her dreams had been getting more and more vivid and taunting, the locked memory of her first meeting with Yoongi driving her insane even while unconscious. Growling, she left her room, taking a peek into Namjoon’s bedroom to find it empty, disappointment flooding through her. He must have been in his trailer, where he and Jeongguk had been hanging out recently like a pair of Ghostbusters.

She could hear a movie going on in the parlor, but she didn’t stop by to see what was on or who was watching, not wanting to drag her feet any longer. Y/N knew that Yoongi wasn’t there; he spent most of his time those days in the music room with the doors shut. Poor Taehyung couldn’t even use the record player all week. 

Crawling up the stairs, once she reached the room at the end of the hall, she knocked on the closed doors. Of course, he knew that it was her, but there was still a chance that he wouldn’t open up. As the door opened, her heart throbbed at the sight of him– similarly tired looking, just like her. Yoongi stepped aside, letting her into the room, before promptly shutting the both of them into the silent room. 

The room was a mess, sheet music strewn everywhere, a throw blanket tossed messily over the loveseat, several dirty mugs on the coffee table. She half-turned, too grief-stricken to face him fully, she gestured around the room. 

“Have you been sleeping in here?” Y/N managed, picking a crumpled piece of sheet music off of the ground, instantly recognizing the writing on the paper to be in Yoongi’s hand. Yoongi ran a hand over his face, his clothing all wrinkled and pen ink covering his fingers. “Um, I guess as long as it’s comfortable…”

“What do you want?” Yoongi asked softly, Y/N flinching at the question like she was burned with a fire poker. 

“I just wanted to ask… If we could have a lesson? If you still want to teach me? I understand if you don’t,” Y/N felt her throat grow sore from trying to keep down tears, feeling like a giant crybaby. 

Yoongi grunted, trudging over to the piano, pushing sheet music off of the bench and sitting down. 

“Come,” Yoongi patted the bench, avoiding her eyes, tail wrapping around his waist snugly. 

Y/N’s legs moved on their own accord, perching on the edge of the bench as far away from him as she could accomplish, not wanting to make him uncomfortable by touching him. Scanning the sheet music in front of her, already able to read it pretty well thanks to his vigorous teaching style, she heard the notes in her head as her eyes roamed over the notes. 

“Is this…?” Y/N timidly pointed to the paper, unable to look at him whatsoever. This was a terrible mistake. 

“It’s your song,” Yoongi gruffly admitted, his voice coming out strained. “I can teach you.”

Nodding, she was surprised she was able to keep the waterworks at bay, Yoongi launching into his lesson patiently. Y/N was leagues better and playing than she was months ago, so Yoongi hardly had to correct her or fix her hand placements, but the air in the room was suffocating her. Being so close to him, so close yet emotionally miles apart, had the queasy feeling in her gut growing by the second. 

She made it halfway through the song, but the more complicated section of the piece was starting to trip her up. Fumbling through the same measure four times in a row, she huffed in annoyance, considering throwing in the towel for the night. 

“No, try again. Like this,” Yoongi snapped her out of her self-criticism, gently rearranging her fingers on the keys to form the correct chord, the contact shocking her so much that she yelped, her vision going black immediately. 

“Give me your number,” the girl– Y/N– demanded, apparently trying to sound confident, but her alcohol-flushed cheeks were countering her desire to seem intimidating. 

Yoongi chuckled, for what felt like the first time in years, watching the girl stick out her arm and using her free hand to dig around in her purse for something. With a triumphant grin, she produced a pen from her bag, shoving it in Yoongi’s palm. 

“Give me your number, Yoongi,” Y/N repeated, waving her bare forearm in his face. 

“Silly girl. Why don’t I just put it in your contacts?” Yoongi teased, though he was secretly delighted that she wanted to keep in touch with him. He prayed that you’d be the one to remember. 

“My phone died,” Y/N pouted– oh, she didn’t know how irresistible she was. “Just write it on my arm, I’ll plug it in to my phone tomorrow, I swear.”

She didn’t know that promises, when it came to The Black Lodge, often disappeared into thin air. She didn’t know that there was a strong possibility that come morning, she’d forget she was even at a bar, that she met him. He shook his head, as if to clear the thoughts from it, reaching out to hold her wrist steady, uncapping the pen with his teeth. Yoongi could tell she was holding her breath, her heart rate picking up as he copied his cell phone number onto her smooth flesh. 

“What time is it? I have work in the morning…” Y/N looked regretful, like she couldn’t bear to leave the bar. It pulled at his heartstrings, embarrassingly enough. 

“Midnight,” Yoongi checked his watch before looking back at her face, trying to memorize every inch of it. “You should probably get going. I’ll call you a cab.”

Yoongi let Y/N cling to his arm, a little unstable on her heels, walking her to the back entrance of the bar. He felt the ache of having to say goodbye to the first person who made him feel like a real person in years, but there was nothing he could do– it’s not like he could lock her away in his apartment upstairs just so he could have someone to come home to. Breathing in deeply, he knew that he’d miss her scent as soon as she’d get in the cab and drive away. 

Leaning by the door, watching for the cab out of the window, Yoongi tried to appear nonchalant, but he was truthfully shaken. Y/N was talking about a concert that she wanted to go to with him the following week, an indie band he never heard of. If you remembered him the next day, there was a possibility he’d have actual plans with someone. Someone interested in getting to know him. 

“Hey Yoongi?” Y/N brought him out of his reverie, frowning as he spotted her cab waiting outside. 

“What’s that, silly girl?” 

“Can you kiss me?” She asked quietly, Yoongi positive that only a hybrid could hear her with how low she spoke. “Please?”

Stunned, Yoongi swallowed thickly, forgetting all about the cabbie waiting outside and honking furiously. She looked shy, and judging by her scent, she was anxious. Stepping closer, Yoongi’s body moved on its own, his hands slightly shaking as they reached to cup her delicate jaw. Y/N sucked in a breath, gaze dropping to his mouth, before her pretty eyes fluttered shut. Stooping, Yoongi shut his own eyes, his lips finding purchase on hers, her sweet sigh being swallowed up by him willingly. She gripped his wrists, still cradling her face, her teeth nipping lightly at his lower lip. Y/N pulled away all too soon, looking dazed, Yoongi equally as breathless. She reached up, flicking the angel wing earring dangling from his ear, giggling. 

“I’ll call you tomorrow, angel.” 

With that, she disappeared into the night, and the call never came.

“Y/N? Y/N, sweetheart, are you okay? What happened?” Yoongi, his voice somehow far away but definitely panicked, drew her out of whatever vision had taken over her body. She could feel herself being held, propped up against a heaving chest, a trembling hand cupping her cheek. “Y/N, please baby, open your eyes!”

Wheezing, Y/N could feel consciousness coming back to her piece by piece, the crack in Yoongi’s voice devastating her. Peeling her eyes open, she was met with Yoongi staring back at her, mortification and fear all over his face, ears pressed so flat to his skull she almost couldn’t see them. 

“What happened?” Y/N echoed Yoongi’s question back to him, her own voice scratchy. Yoongi, despite himself, pushed hair out of Y/N’s face, his whole body coiled with stress. 

“I don’t know. You passed out for a few seconds, but you s-sounded like you were having a terrible dream,” Yoongi’s voice cracked again, still holding her close to his chest. 

“I– it wasn’t terrible, it wasn’t a dream. I think,” Y/N spoke slowly, like her mouth was full of molasses. “I think it was a vision, like the ones my mom has.”

Y/N felt sapped of energy, entirely sagging into Yoongi’s embrace, forgetting all about how estranged they had been for weeks. When he put his hand over her’s, she got the vision. 

“What did you see, sweetheart?” Yoongi seemed to calm down a bit, though still held onto her like she was going to dissolve into smoke. 

“The bar, you and me. But from your perspective. Our kiss,” Y/N whispered, trying to replay the vision in her head over and over again, trying to remember how Yoongi’s lips felt on her. 

“You– you remembered?” Yoongi exclaimed, color flooding his cheeks. “Wait, what do you mean, from my perspective?”

“Like I was seeing it from your eyes,” Y/N explained tiredly, slumping further into his arms. “I’m sorry I didn’t call you the next day, angel.”

Yoongi went ramrod straight, a hiss coming from the back of his throat as he maneuvered Y/N upright by her upper arms so he could look into her eyes. 

“You need to stop apologizing to me,” Yoongi breathed, his eyebrows pulling together, pained. “I can’t do this anymore.”

“Can’t do what?” Y/N’s voice broke, moisture gathering at the corners of her eyes. 

“How many times am I going to make you cry?” Yoongi used a thumb to brush away the tears under her eyes, his anguished expression becoming even more pronounced. 

“I-I get that you don’t like me like that, Yoongi, b-but–”

“Y/N, I love you. I think I fell in love with you a year ago,” Yoongi confessed desperately, his other hand coming up to cup the side of her face. “As cheesy as that is. I love you, and it’s killing me.”

The world stopped, her heart stopped, and everything around her ceased to exist except for Yoongi. Tears drying up as if by command, Y/N searched for any sign of deception on his face or hidden in his body language, but came up with nothing. 

“You love me, too?” Y/N whimpered, heart aching from something else now. 

Yoongi leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers, his eyes falling shut as he exhaled shakily. She twisted her fists into the fabric of his tee shirt, craving his warmth, savoring how close he was. 

“So fucking much,” Yoongi confirmed, voice above a whisper. “I love you so fucking much, baby.”

“Yoongi…” Y/N breathed, heart about to beat out of her chest. “Love you…”

With a purr rounding out into a growl, Yoongi moved one of his hands to the small of Y/N’s waist, dragging her closer to him. Inches away, danger, but also tenderness, filled his hazel eyes. He was beautiful. 

“Kiss me,” Yoongi’s barely audible request sent fireworks off in her gut, his eyes shutting again as he nudged his nose against hers. “Please.”

How could she possibly deny him, her Yoongi, her love, when he asked her so sweetly?

Pulse racing, Y/N released her hold on his shirt, tucking a long strand of jet black hair behind his ear, humming when he shuddered, placing her hand on the side of his neck, his own pulse thrumming as fast as hers was. 

“Please, baby,” Yoongi repeated, the pet name making her stomach flip. Without any more hesitation, Y/N leaned up, perfectly slotting her lips against Yoongi’s, gentle, slow, and impossibly sweet. 

His lips, full and soft, were yielding against hers, letting her take the lead, his hands remaining still– one holding her face, the other on her waist. Locking lips for several moments, innocent and so full of love, Y/N drew away, winded and over the moon. Yoongi stayed close, eyes lidded and breathing labored, before he spoke again. 

“More. Kiss me more.”

Yoongi pulled her into his lap, his tail curling around her waist, one arm around her back and the other traveling down to the outside of her thigh. Y/N, growing shy, gave him a simple peck, face on fire. She never imagined that this was how her night was going to go, but she couldn’t even remember when they weren’t like this before. Not satisfied with the measly peck she planted on the corner of his mouth, Yoongi chased after her, gripping her jaw tightly and descending his lips on her once more, Y/N gasping in surprise. Yoongi took that opportunity to slide his tongue into her mouth, swallowing the startled moan she made hungrily, the tip of his tongue flicking against the roof of her mouth. 

Melting in his grip, Y/N kissed him back with renewed vigor, a hand moving to tangle in his silky hair, pleased that he took over the kiss, lungs screaming for air as Yoongi sucked on her lower lip with a purr. As if sensing that she needed to catch her breath, Yoongi released her lip with a pop, his mouth peppering kisses along her sensitive jaw voraciously, hand on her thigh rubbing up and down. Sighing blissfully, Y/N’s head tilted back when his lips trailed to her neck, mouth wet and kisses searing her flesh.

“Fuck, you smell so good,” Yoongi groaned into her neck, lightly sucking on a spot behind her ear that had her mewling. “Let me mark you…”

Words failing her, Y/N nodded desperately, eager to feel his teeth sink into her flesh. Chuckling darkly, Yoongi started muttering sweet nothings, dragging his tongue up the length of her throat. The hand on her thigh moved again, this time to grab a loose hold of the base of her neck, Y/N’s eyes rolling back into her skull with the weight of his palm in such a vulnerable spot. 

“Hold onto me, my love,” Yoongi murmured in her ear, Y/N obediently tightening her grip around Yoongi’s waist, whining at the sensation of his teeth tracing the vein fluttering with her erratic pulse making her see stars behind her eyelids. 

With one more open-mouthed kiss to her throat, Yoongi bit down, Y/N crying out his name, never feeling more alive than in that moment, in his arms, teeth in her neck. Tail protectively curling even tighter around her waist, Yoongi’s purrs were growing so loud, he sounded more predatory than ever. She didn’t know if it was the fact that he loved her, that he was kissing her, or the the side effects of scenting, but Y/N swore her soul ascended as he removed his teeth from the mark, a sensual swipe of his tongue sweeping over the wound to cauterize it. 

Growing entirely limp in his arms, Y/N barely had the energy to kiss him back when his lips returned to hers, whimpering at the tangy taste of her own blood on his tongue. And then, all at once, his lips were gone. 

“I don’t want to get carried away, sweetheart,” Yoongi’s voice was strained, planting a chaste kiss on her forehead with a hum.

“What if I do?” Y/N countered dopily, her head full of cotton and Yoongi. Yoongi barked out a hearty laugh, unable to help himself by pecking her lips once more, smoothing her hair into place. She probably looked like she got attacked.

“Not tonight, love,” Yoongi helped her stand, snickering at her whining protests. “Let’s take it slow, hmm? You need to get some rest, proper rest. So do I.”

“I guess you’re right,” Y/N admitted begrudgingly, though she wanted nothing more than Yoongi kissing her senseless all night, her body was sagging with exhaustion. “Your edginess has been keeping me up for nights on end.”

“I’m sorry, baby,” Yoongi apologized sincerely, his ears flattening against his skull again. Before he opened up the soundproofed door, he stopped, lifting her hand to his lips to brush a kiss over her knuckles. “I love you.”

Realizing, until they figured out how to tell the others, they’d have to keep their affections to themselves, Y/N pouted even further. Now that she had a taste of him, she was insatiable. 

“I love you, too, angel.”

Silently, Yoongi walked Y/N to her bedroom, stealing one last kiss after making sure the hallway was clear, Y/N floating on air as she sunk onto her bed, Yoongi shutting the door and leaving her to relive everything that happened mentally. 

On her nightstand, where she had left it, her phone chimed, making her flinch and swear. Blindly reaching for it, still a little hazy from the scenting and makeout session, she unlocked her phone, only to feel dread wash over her as she read the text that she received.

Hoseok 🦊: What the hell is going on with you and Yoongi? 

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Please do not repost or translate my work. Thank you!

[mire1li]

You tried to steal my daughter so I'm stealing your mother! part 2

So I actually wasn't planning on a part 2 so soon but here it is LMAO Part 1!

Lucifer was… well, wallowing in pity, to say the least. In the hotel, of course, since he was trying guilt-trip Alastor into letting him spend time with you.

Alastor was obviously just going about his business, whilst Charlie was trying to comfort Lucifer.

It was pretty clear he was being a bit over-dramatic but he does it for one reason: to be able to spend time with you, without Alastor.

Ever since Lucifer told Al about you ‘sneaking out’, Alastor hasn’t left your side for a moment, until now, that is.

He was keeping an eye on Lucifer whilst he sent you to represent him in the Overlords meeting that day, since he was clearly unable to go.

Lucifer, sitting in a corner of the lobby, was now making sobbing noises, which only seemed to irritate Alastor (rightfully so)

“Alright, since I am obligated to… remove trash from the hotel premises, leave” Alastor turned to Lucifer and pointed at the door, to which the demon gasped in an over dramatic way.

“Trash?! Perhaps you should see yourself out then?”

Alastor glared at him, slightly pointing his microphone at him before sighing “I’m quite sure Mother would love to know about you insulting her son~”

“Now hold on, you cannot do that! You started this!”

“Yes and it matters not who began it, but who ended it”

“You’re evil!”

“Yes, thank you!” Alastor replied happily, turning back to what he was doing beforehand.

“Hey, we weren’t done talking!”

“Weren’t we?”

“NO?”

“That’s unfortunate, I just so happen to be very busy”

“You’re literally just standing there”

“Exactly! I’m being productive by not wailing like a child!”

“I’m not-! Ok so maybe I was doing that, but I wouldn’t have to if you just let me be around [Name]!”

“Not in a million years”

“Well, actually-“

“Don’t.”

And then you just so happened to return, in time to see the rest of their little argument! So fun.

At this point, Charlie had given up and left to talk with Angel and Husk at the hotel bar.

“What are you two arguing about this time?” You asked the two demons, who looked quite shocked to see you back so soon.

“Ah, Mother! Is the meeting over?”

“It is! It was quite boring, I must say. I have no idea how you do it, darling”

"Yes, can you believe I have to suffer through that each time?"

"It seems like such a hassle, you poor soul" Lucifer chimed in, naturally, rolling his eyes as he said this.

"Thank you for the compassion."

"Stop that, you two! I don't feel like getting caught in the crossfire of yet another one of your fights" you sighed, moving Alastor away from Lucifer. Sometimes you wondered how Alastor hasn't been murdered by him yet. Clearly some sort of miracle!

"Oh, but Mother! I cannot possibly allow this… scoundrel to take up much of your time!"

"Scoundrel?!" Lucifer screeched, it would be safe to assume he preferred 'Little bird' over 'scoundrel'… but it's not like Alastor cared much! He'd just go ahead and switch between the two.

"Yes, 'scoundrel'! When was the last time you were honest about something?"

"Earlier today before [Name] returned!"

"Are you referring to that insult?"

"Perhaps I am"

"You see, Mother? A true rat, right here! He admitted to insulting me!"

"You started it first though!"

You sighed again, joining Charlie, Angel and Husk at the bar. By this point, it's just the area everyone goes to when Lucifer and Alastor are arguing in the hotel.

"Don't ya deal with that on most days?" Angel asked, turning to you as you sat down on one of the stools.

"Surely it gets exhausting?" he added, surpringly pushing away a shot of some kind of alcohol that he was offered.

"Yes, however… I suppose I have Charlie to help. Although, she tends to be a bit unsuccessful…"

"I'm trying! They're like… like… ah! I don't know but they're something!"

You turned back to look at the two, the sight before you… less than pleasant: Alastor and Lucifer were fighting… kind of. They were essentially trying to push the other out the hotel… it wasn't necessarily too violent, rather childish instead.

"Absolute morons… hey, no! I'll be taking that back!" Angel shouted as Husk took the shot away from him.

"Absolutely not"

"Oh come on!"

"You shouldn't be drinking in the first place!" Charlie, of course, interrupted them, pointing a finger at Angel as he was now trying to reach over the counter.

"Then why offer it to me?!"

"To test your morale, of course" Husk poured out the contents of the shot glass and placed it somewhere off to the side.

"No! What a waste!" Angel Dust whined, now leaning on the counter in defeat, looking at the empty shot glass.

"UNLOCK THIS DOOR RIGHT THIS INSTANT!" Alastor could be heard, faintly shouting from outside the hotel. Somehow, Lucifer had managed to lock Al out. You wondered what would come of this predicament between them, though you were sure it would be nothing good.

You walked over to Lucifer "Luci-"

"Dear! Let's ignore this whole thing, yeah?" He grinned, putting his arm around your shoulder and side-hugging you, beginning to walk in the opposite direction from the front door.

"Okay wait, wait, wait!" You didn't allow him to simply walk away from the situation at hand. Him simply looking at you with the most innocent expression ever!

"I am not going to ignore that you locked my child out of the hotel!" your tone amused, as you exclaimed, turning back to face the door. Certainly, you weren't mad, it was quite a… silly situation, to say the least.

"It's fine! I'm sure he's capable enough demon to get back in"

"Yes, you would be correct about that" Alastor grinned, appearing right in between the two of you, lightly swatting Lucifer away from himself before dusting off himself (supposedly from Lucifer).

Lucifer, absolutely flabbergasted, looked at the entrance, the door being wide open and Charlie awkwardly waving, with a sheepish smile on her face.

"Charlie!"

"Yeees?"

"You let him in?!" Lucifer cried out, putting his hand on his chest. "My own child betrayed me!"

"I didn't betray you! … Kind of"

"Yeah! Kind of!"

"Sorry! Aha..ha…" she chuckled, awkwardly side-stepping back to her room.

You waved to her as she entered the hallway and disappeared from sight. Having almost forgotten about Angel and Husk, you could see Angel recovering from a laughing fit, whilst Husk sat there amused, cleaning the shot glass from earlier.

"Well then, little bird, I would say it's time for you to leave!"

"I beg to differ! I haven't been here that long yet!"

"Certainly long enough for me" Alastor shrugged, pushing Lucifer towards the exit.

"Uhh, no, I'm not leaving that easily this time!"

"Ah, so irritating" Alastor sighed, taking your hand and leading you away from him again.

"I believe I'll be sticking around until I'm too busy with my duties to do so! Out of spite, of course~"

Okay… why don't you two calm down? Oh! I know! Why don't we spend some time together painting each others nails!"

"What?"

"Mother, I refuse-"

"It wasn't a request!"

@montis-posts @sleepdeprived-barelyalive here you go!

[kalena-henden]

Destined With You has me intrigued. There are things I like about it (mostly Rowoon and the mystery), things that annoy me (the bad co-workers), and things that confuse me. After 4 episodes, I finally feel like I'm starting to understand what the writer is trying to do.

However, Netflix strikes again with a generic drama title that is very confusing and doesn't capture the depth or meaning of the Korean title in the slightest. (Thank goodness Viki got Doom at Your Service first cause that title is fire, even if it's not literal. I'm still shaking my fist at Netflix naming very accurate Korean title, Forest of Secrets, the boring and bland non-specific Stranger. Just why?!)

The Korean title is 이 연애는 불가항력.

The first part 이 연애는 means 'this love'. But the final word is the Korean translation of the French law terminology 'force majeure' (aka major force) which they translate as 'irresistible force'. It's a clause that is commonly used in contracts that negates some or all of the terms of a contract when an 'act of God' occurs, like a natural disaster, which would make one or both parties unable to fulfill their responsibilities. This is interesting as it gives the real title multiple meanings.

The most literal translation would be 'This Love is a Force Majeure' referencing Shinyu's profession and him being a stickler for adhering exactly to the contract terms, including verbal contracts like the ones he has with the Hongjo.

The next translation is 'This Love is an Irresistible Force' which implies that this love is almost against their will. They can't help but fall for each other. Currently, we have a quite literal interpretation of this with Shinyu accidentally drinking the love potion and now having unwanted thoughts and emotions regarding Hongjo.

Another potential translation extrapolated out of force majeure is 'This Love is an Act of God'. This implies this love is outside of human control, like destiny created by God or gods, depending on your religion. This is where I think Netflix got their generic 'destined' title. Unfortunately that 'destined' title completely negates that this writer has our leads intentionally playing with words. Not only on a banter level but also testing the letter of the law with their verbal contracts, some which are intentionally made and others they've made unknowingly. Words carry weight in this drama; not just through their emotion or meaning but in a magically binding way.

What if casting the spells isn't enough to activate them? What if the spells need words of intent to activate them?

Even though Hongjo doesn't believe it yet, she is a shaman or witch. Her words alone opened the lock on the box that held the spell book. They weren't just any words; they were words that had deep intention attached to them. After day dreaming her crush was there for her in a time of need when she was home alone, she half pleads, 'Please, can you come?' A few days later, Jaekyung has moved into the first floor of the house she rents.

When Shinyu drinks the Love Potion, nothing happens. He treats her the same way he's been treating her when she barges into his office to try to take care of the person who ran into the flowered-potted median. Any discomfort he's showing can be attributed to the fact that he is the culprit who ruined the median she is ranting over. It does however remind him how dangerous his illness has become triggering his urgency to cast the Disease Curing Spell as soon as possible. It's not until after he sees that the Love Spell is missing from the book and tells her, 'Because if you get a boyfriend, it's thanks to me.' that he has his first heart-fluttering sign of love when she tries take the book from him. He doesn't seem to have any moral issues with her using the love spell and is even trying to take credit for it since he gave her the box. After he discovers that he mistakingly drank the love potion, he's only upset that he's the one who drank it instead of her intended target. But what if drinking the love potion wasn't enough? What if it needed to be activated by his words of intention? His intention was for her to get a boyfriend.

Old Shaman to Shinyu: 'You killed her. The owner of the bloody hand that caresses your cheek. Karma will swallow you and you will struggle in horrible pain. But all the pain and curses will end. Finally, the owner of the wooden box showed up.'

Now back to our title, 'This Love is a Force Majeure'. The longstanding family curse appears to have been caused by Shinyu killing someone in his past life and curses can be considered a contract that binds people to their bad fate. If a contract is made in perpetuity, maybe the only way out is a force majeure happening. Note that 'will swallow' and 'will struggle' are future tense, they hadn't happened yet. Karma definitely seemed to swallow him whole when he unknowingly drank the love potion. It's also interesting she said he will struggle in horrible pain. We've seen him in physical pain due to the curse, but what if mental and emotional pain are added on top of this due to the love potion. The majority of this show will likely be showing him struggling through these trials as he unpacks his past life to save his future. (Hopefully... *crosses fingers and side-eyes Heartbeat*)

It's unlikely that the Disease Curing Spell is enough. It might be able to cure him of the disease but only once the magical curse has been lifted. So both spells always needed to be cast in tandem to break his curse. It's not a coincidence that Shinyu was in extreme distress when he ran into the median that Hongjo had planted the flowers on at the exact same moment she was casting the Love Spell. It caused a ripple in their fate. The beginning jumpstart of their love which needs to grow strong enough to cause a force majeure to break the curse or curses. Since Hongjo may not just be lonely, but cursed with loneliness. The signs are there. Her family is all dead. She doesn't have a boyfriend. She doesn't seem to have close friends even though she's quite friendly. Shinyu suggested that she's the reason she is alone. The Old Shaman also pointedly laments that her god wouldn't allow her to be in a relationship. This story becomes richer if Hongjo has a bad fate to overcome for herself, not just to help the male lead overcome his, but one that must be overcome together.

I'll end this with a little poetic fun from Google translate and deleting the last Korean word in the title one syllable at a time.

이 연애는 불가항력 - this love is irresistible

이 연애는 불가항 - this love is inevitable

이 연애는 불가 - this love is impossible

이 연애는 불 - this love is fire

[coryosmin]

exes and oh’s - sejanus plinth x fem!reader

summary: being heartbroken after breaking up with coriolanus, you’ve not left your house in a few days. but your best friend sej knows exactly how to make you move on from his best friend.

word count: 3,200

warnings: nsfw, mdni, coryo’s ex x sejanus, smut, p in v, shy reader, soft sejanus, praise kink, soft sex, fingering, oral (f receiving), sejanus plinth lives AU because he never died in my heart, crying during sex, sejanus is so cute, coryo makes an appearance at the end, NOT PROOF READ BECAUSE ITS 3 AM AND IM TOO TIRED SO I APOLOGIZE FOR TYPOS AND GRAMMAR ERRORS

being coriolanus’s girlfriend had been both great and bad. he always treated you relatively well, bringing you out on dates, getting you gifts, he was always so good in bed. however, he was also very jealous and possessive, constantly thinking you were cheating on him with everyone in the capitol. it got so bad that when you were out having lunch with your father, you came home to coriolanus in your apartment asking where the hell you had been and saying you were lying when you said you were with your father. so ultimately, you broke up with coryo, unable to handle the whole possessiveness thing any longer.

you were heartbroken to say the least. your breakup had been quite the blowout. when you mentioned coriolanus’s possessiveness and how toxic it was, he yelled at you, accusing you of cheating on him and that you were just looking for an excuse to leave him. so here you were, sitting on your couch crying to sejanus, yours and coriolanus’ best friend, about the breakup. sejanus held you close to him, letting you cry on his shoulder as he had his arms wrapped around you.

“i just don’t understand why he would say such hurtful things, you know?” you sniffled, leaning away from sej’s touch to look at him. your eyes were so red and puffy from crying, sejanus felt his heart break at your heartbroken look.

the curly haired boy sighed, shrugging his shoulders. “that’s just how coryo is, unfortunately,” he said, taking your hands in his. “he’ll attack first and regret later.”

“i just thought he really valued me, you know? he always treated me so well despite the possessiveness,” you exclaimed, taking a shaky deep breath.

sejanus looked at you with his soft brown eyes. he breathed in before replying. “i think, instead of dwelling on it, you should take this opportunity to forget about him,” he exclaimed.

you let out a dry, breathless laugh. “and how do you suppose i do that, sejanus? sleep with someone else? i’m not going to just sleep with anyone.”

“you could sleep with me,” sejanus said, looking at you seriously.

“what?” you asked, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion.

sejanus took a deep breath before clearing his throat. “you don’t want to sleep with just anyone,” he said, his voice neutral. “why not sleep with someone that cares about you?”

you shook your head in response, laughing in disbelief. “i’m not going to sleep with my ex’s best friend, sejanus.” you said.

“i’m your best friend too,” sejanus replied. “besides, you need to forget about him. and i’d be more than willing to help you.”

you thought about it for a moment, unsure of how to reply. sejanus was indeed your best friend. however, he was coryo’s before he became yours. wouldn’t he be betraying his best friend? “coryo would be so angry if he found out,” you replied, frowning.

“what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” sejanus replied softly, bringing your hand to his mouth, pressing a kiss to the back of it.

you couldn’t help the blush on your cheeks, looking at sejanus. his brown eyes looked into your eyes. his eyes were so soft and loving. you bit your lip. you couldn’t deny that part of you wanted to do it. sejanus was of course an attractive guy and very down to earth. he may be from the districts but that didn’t matter too much to you. you took a deep breath before replying. “okay, sej,” you whispered. “but only if you promise it won’t ruin our friendship afterward.”

sejanus let out a chuckle, nodding his head. “i promise,” he said, smiling at you. he leaned in, moving his face closer to yours. “are you sure, though?”

you licked your lips, nodding your head. “yes,” you murmured, your hot breath hitting sejanus’s face. and without anymore hesitation, sejanus kissed you gently on the lips. his kisses were so much more different compared to coriolanus’s. coryo had always kissed you hungrily, as if you’d disappear if he didn’t hold you close to him. sejanus’s kisses? well, he kissed you like you were delicate. like you were something to cherish. his lips were soft against yours, almost meaningful. and you couldn’t help the fluttering in your heart. though maybe that’s just due to being in an emotionally vulnerable state.

sejanus continued kissing you as he began to unbutton your blouse. and of course you let him. you did the same to him, unbuttoning sejanus’s dress shirt. ever since he had come back from district 12, he had focused on maintaining a specific image within the capitol, is clothes included. and therefore, he wore mostly button up and slacks most of the time as casual wear. you don’t know what had happened when he and coryo were away but you do know that sejanus came back more reserved than ever before.

sejanus finished unbuttoning your shirt, pulling it off of you and tossing the shirt to the side. sejanus pulled away from the kiss, looking at you with a small smile before looking down at your skin. you wore a simple black lace bra that cupped your breasts nicely. sejanus looked back into your eyes. “you’re so beautiful,” he murmured, pressing another kiss to your lips. “always so beautiful.”

you couldn’t help the blush on your cheeks as your heart fluttered. of course coriolanus had always called you pretty. but his words were never as sensual as sejanus’s are right now. “thank you,” you whispered bashfully. you bit your lip nervously.

sejanus smiled. “do you still want to continue?” he asked softly.

you nodded your head. “yes, please.”

“shall we move to your bedroom?” he asked gently.

you nodded your head once more. “yes,” you said. sejanus stood up, the tent in his pants quite obvious. his shirt was mostly unbuttoned, not all the way as you had stopped when he pulled away from the kiss. but you could see the toned muscles of his abs. he looked absolutely handsome. his curls had grown back a while ago, adding to his handsome look. you were about to stand up as well when suddenly sejanus stopped you. you looked up at him confused until he slid a hand underneath your legs and the other on your back, lifting you into his arms. “what are you doing?” you asked as he picked you up.

“if we're doing this, darling, we’re doing this the right way,” was all he said as he began carrying you. he had a grin on his face as he looked at you. you simply wrapped your arms around his neck, unable to help the smile on your face as you let yourself be carried to your bedroom.

sejanus placed you down gently onto your bed, your head on the pillows before standing back up. he unbuttoned his shirt the rest of the way before letting it fall to the floor. he wanted to make tonight special for you because you deserved to be treated respectfully and with adoration. sejanus knew that coryo was a harsh lover. you deserved to be cherished and taken care of. he moved onto the bed, positioning himself on top of you by holding himself up with his arms as he captured your lips with his again.

the kiss was sensual, slow, and gentle, just like sejanus was with you. you weren’t used to this gentleness, truthfully. with coryo, he would of course kiss you and take his time with you but his touches were rough, needy, desperate. coryo was a fantastic but selfish lover. but so far, with sej, it was opposite.

sejanus pulled away from the kiss, moving to kiss your neck. you moved your hands to caress sejanus’s back, feeling his muscles as he pressed gentle kisses to your neck. he pressed a kiss to your pulse point before licking it, causing you to gasp from the sensation. sejanus brought a hand down your body to the waistband of your slacks. he sucked on your pulse point, his fingers going underneath your pants and panties, using a finger to spread around your arousal.

you let out a soft moan, your eyes fluttering shut as you spread your legs for sej. sejanus began to gently rub your clit with two fingers, causing you to buck your hips. he pulled away from your neck, his lips moving gently down your body. he kissed your collarbone as he rubbed your clit. sejanus then stopped rubbing your clit, dipping one finger into your hole and thrusting it in and out gently. you moaned, looking at sejanus.

“you’re so wet for me, sweetheart,” sejanus murmured against your skin, looking at you with his pretty brown eyes. “does it feel good?” he asked you, curling his finger inside of you, causing you to moan a bit louder.

you nodded your head. “feels so good, sej,” you said, looking at your best friend.

sejanus smiled at your reaction. “i’m glad, beautiful,” he said, adding another finger. you mewled in response, your eyes fluttering shut. sejanus thrusted his fingers a bit faster, the digits curled to hit your g-spot repeatedly. you felt yourself getting closer, arching your back. “close already, beautiful?” he asked, placing a kiss on top of your right breast. “you’re doing so good for me. cum for me.”

and you came with a loud moan, clenching your walls around sejanus’s fingers and trying to clamp your thighs closed. he fingered you through your orgasm. and when you came down from your high and relaxed your body, he removed his fingers from inside of you and out of your pants, smiling at you. “you did so good, baby,” he said. his praise made you shutter. you always had a thing for praise and sejanus gave it so willingly. it warmed your heart a lot.

sejanus pulled back, kneeling at the end of the mattress as he unzipped your slacks, pulling them down along with your panties. he threw them to the side. he then leaned down, pressing kisses to your thighs. you watched him, biting your lip. “want you, sej,” you murmured.

sejanus smiled at you, looking up at you. “and you’ll have me,” he murmured back. “but let me take care of you first, yeah?”

and who were you to say no? so you nodded your head in response.

“take your bra off for me, beautiful,” he said, going back to pressing kisses onto both of your thighs. you reached behind yourself, unclasping your bra. you threw the bra off the bed, not really caring for where it landed. sejanus looked up to see your breasts, unable to help the moan that escaped his lips. “god you’re so gorgeous, sweetheart.”

you couldn’t help the blush forming on your face as sejanus looked at you. you were completely naked in front of him and he looked at you as though you were a piece of art that needed to be worshipped. and you absolutely adored it. sejanus spread your legs, moving his head between your thighs. you took a breath in anticipation before sejanus licked your slit, causing you to let out a shaky breath.

sejanus tongued your clit, looking up at you with his beautiful brown eyes. you let out a whine, your eyes fluttering shut. sejanus couldn’t help the small smirk on his lips as he looked at you. you were just so amazing and perfect. he absolutely adored you. sejanus began sucking on your clit and you reached a hand to grip his hair, arching your back. your other hand gripped your boob, massaging the flesh as sejanus continued eating you out. you couldn’t help tugging on sejanus’s hair, causing him to moan against your pussy.

you ground your hips against his face, adding more to your pleasure and sejanus loved it. “so close, sej,” you whined, bringing your other hand to his head. sejanus continued his ministrations with his tongue, sucking on your clit to help bring your release. and soon your thighs were clenching around sejanus’s head, a loud moan escaping your lips as you came for the second time that night.

when you came down from your high, sejanus lifted his head, getting up from the bed. his face was covered in your juices and his eyes were most certainly blown out. “gonna fuck you now, okay?” he breathed out, palming himself through his pants. he couldn’t help it at all. you were just so pretty and the noises you made were just so so sweet. and you tasted absolutely divine.

you nodded your head at sejanus. “please,” you said, breathing heavily from your orgasm. “need your cock so bad, sej, need it.” you practically whined.

sejanus cooed, unzipping his pants and pulling them down along with his boxers. “don’t worry, beautiful, gonna fuck you so good,” he said, revealing his cock to you. it was average but so girthy. you mewled at the sight of his cock, your pussy clenching around nothing. sejanus couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped his lips, moving back onto the bed and crawling on top of you.

he pressed a kiss to your lips, bringing his cock to your pussy. he spread your wetness around with the tip, letting out a shaky moan as he did so. you shuttered in overstimulation as he ran the tip on your clit. he then brought his cock to your hole, slowly pushing inside of you. you let out a moan at the stretch, it stinging due to the girth. sejanus pressed a kiss to your lips to distracted you from the pain. you kissed him back, your hands gripping sejanus’s back as he continued to ease his cock inside of you.

when he was fully in you, sej stayed still, not moving so that you could adjust to his size. you guys continued kissing as you waited. and after a few moments, you pulled away from the kiss, looking into sej’s eyes. “you can move,” you whispered.

sejanus let out a shaky breath, nodding his head. he moved his cock out of you before thrusting it back in gently. the both of you moaned, your mouths agape in pleasure. “fuck, you’re so tight and wet, beautiful,” sejanus said, still looking into your eyes as he moved his hips slowly.

“so thick inside me, sej,” you breathed out.

sejanus leaned down to kiss you again, maintain a slow pace as one of his hands moved to grip yours, intertwining your fingers. “you’re so gorgeous,” he murmured against your lips. “you deserve to be treated good.” he said.

your heart swelled from sejanus’s words, an onset of emotions hitting you. he was treating you so good with holding your hand, being so gentle, giving you words of praise. you couldn’t it when tears welled in your eyes, feeling emotionally vulnerable in that moment. a few tears escaped your eyes, causing sejanus to frown and stop his movement. “what’s wrong?” he asked, looking at you with a concerned expression. “do you wish to stop?”

you sniffled, shaking your head no. “i’m sorry,” you apologized. “you’re treating me so good, got emotional,” you said softly, looking up at sej with teary eyes.

sejanus let out a breath of relief, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “it’s okay to get emotional, princess,” he said softly, his free hand that was holding him up moving so he could rest on his forearm. “do you want to continue or for me to stop?”

“please continue,” you said, bringing a hand to wipe your tears.

sejanus gave you a small smile. “you sure?”

“more than sure.”

and with that, sejanus continued his thrusts, causing you to moan and arch your back. he moved his hips a bit faster, not enough to be rough but just enough to make a really good rhythm. “you feel so good, princess,” sejanus murmured, bringing his head down towards your ear. “taking my cock so well,” he said.

you moaned in response, closing your eyes in pleasure. sejanus angled his hips a certain way, causing his cock to hit your g-spot repeatedly. you let out a loud whine and moan, gently scratching sejanus’s back. he let out a groan of pleasure, burying his face in your neck. his hips continued their gentle but fast pace, making the familiar heat tighten in your abdomen. sejanus’s cock stiffened inside of you, signaling he was close.

“you’re clenching around me so good, beautiful,” sejanus breathed out, his lips brushing against the skin on your neck. “gonna cum on my cock?”

you nodded your head in response. “yes, sej. i’m so close,” you moaned out.

“such a good girl,” he grunted, moving his a bit faster as he chased both of your orgasms. “go ahead, baby, cum on my cock.”

his words brought you over the edge as you let out a sob of pleasure, arching your back as you came hard around sejanus’s cock. the clenching of your walls made sejanus moan loudly as he released inside of you. “oh fuuuck,” sejanus moaned out, thrusting his hips to ride out both of your orgasms.

and when you both finished, sejanus pulled out, laying down next to you. you both breathed heavily, relishing in the post orgasmic bliss. sejanus turned his head to look at you as you looked at him. “i hope that helped,” he sighed.

you smiled, nodding your head. “it did, a lot,” you murmured. “thank you, sej.”

“anything for you, beautiful,” he replied.

suddenly, you heard a knock on the front door. you frowned as you hadn’t expected anyone to be coming over tonight, let alone at this time of night. “i’ll be right back,” you said, getting up from the bed. sejanus nodded his head at you as you walked over to grab your robe, putting it on and tying the belt around your waist to cover yourself up.

you walked out of your bedroom door, making your way to the front door. taking a deep breath, you opened the front door. and there, tall and blond, stood coriolanus snow with a bouquet of roses and red-brimmed eyes, looking down at you. you stood there shocked, your heart pounding in your chest at the realization of what you had just done.

and at that moment, sejanus walked out of your bedroom, dressed in his clothes but hair clearly disheveled. “who’s at the door?” sejanus asked, walking to stand behind you before looking at who was at the door. his eyes widened as he saw coriolanus standing there with now a confused and angry look on his face.

“what the fuck is this?” coriolanus asked angrily, his voice cracking as he spoke. and in that moment, he didn’t care because it most definitely does hurt to find out that his best friend fucked his ex girlfriend.

[telemi]

IS IT (IM)POSSIBLE AFTER ALL?

ָ࣪ ! synopsis : being a commoner has its mishaps. but maybe finding your own prince charming will do you justice right? oh, but why bother, it’s close to impossible —or so you think.

ָ࣪ ! featuring : ayato, diluc, xiao, zhongli

ָ࣪ ! cw : implied female reader

〃˖ KAMISATO AYATO !

he’s the crown prince in which everyone in the empire admires. he’s strong and reliable, has the looks, and very favored amongst the public. so meeting him was, well, close to 0. yet here he is hiding himself in a cloak, the color very conspicuous, in fact it looked like it was even glowing! the customers all step away from the unknowingly, intimidating presence of the man. and this went on for weeks! in all honesty, he loves all kinds of sweets you bake and wanted to hire you personally into the palace. but of course he had to patiently observe you to know if you can be someone who isn’t a threat to him. and finally with one last look at you, he stands up abruptly and strides his way to the counter where you stand. you should’ve seen your face at that moment, it depicts such confusion that you literally went “?????” he finds it kind of cute, though he brushes the thought off saying that it’s very improper for a prince like him to feel such a way.

“miss, how would you feel working at a castle?”

“...pardon?”

content under the cut !

〃˖ DILUC RAGNVINDR !

the young duke of the ragnvindr estate. his parents both passed away early thus he had to inherit the title and carry all the hefty burden. growing up, he was very aloof and didn’t have much friends, only a few of them stayed while the others left. others urged him to marry while others shamelessly stick their noses into his private matters. he wants some peace and quiet for once, so, it was to everyone’s surprise when diluc suddenly disappeared from his office. the mansion was a mess, servants rushing to search for their master and knights assembling to join the search. unbeknownst to them, diluc simply took a stroll at his mother’s garden. right, that forsaken place — oooor so he thought. that’s when he encounters you, a gardener whose perseverance remained strong even after the others have abandoned this beautiful garden. your hands were covered in soil and your forehead is coated with sweat. you didn’t seem to notice his presence and diluc didn’t want you to, he just watches you from afar as you become the peace and tranquility that he ever so yearns for.

〃˖ XIAO !

he’s known to be a very talented knight, recognized at a young age for being a prodigy. he’s a commoner himself and got through the special academy for knights by using his abilities and skills alone. growing up, he was always ostracized and underestimated by his peers for being a commoner. unfortunately, every encounter they had did not end well. xiao doesn’t really want or search for any recognition, he just does what he does best, and that is to master the art of the sword. your first encounter with him was when your home was ransacked by a bunch of burglars. luckily xiao happened to be on the area and saved you from all danger. all that erupted from your house were screams and cries from the men, and xiao finds the sight distasteful. he just knocks them out instantly and turns to look at you with a cold glare. you’re absolutely shocked and scared of what just happened, unable to move and frozen in place. when he takes notice of your sprained foot, however, he lets out a long sigh and picks you up; his hand hides under your knees while the other rests on your back.

“it’s fine, you’re safe now.” he reassures you for the first time and your soul feels a little light after hearing those words, then you close your eyes and listen to the surprised voices of the awake crowd.

〃˖ ZHONGLI !

he’s a baron who’s known to be very quiet and reserved. he’s not that rich and isn’t quite known to the nobles of high society. in fact he just lives like a normal citizen, a commoner perhaps. he frequently visits the public library to read books, that’s basically his only passion. you first met him when you unknowingly sat across his seat and began reading a load of books. of course the noise you brought made it so obvious of your presence and he laughs in amusement. you were so immersed in the books that you didn’t notice him, and when he gives a small cough to let you know, you finally lift your head and see him smiling at you. oh. OH.

“my apologies, kind sir! i didn’t notice you were there and—”

“it is absolutely all right, i cannot dare to ruin a lady’s leisure time.” he speaks in a gentle tone. “lady? oh i’m not from a noble family, sir. i am just an ordinary person here to read.”

oh? his eyes twinkle with interest. “oh, ah.. i’m self-taught so i know my facts and knowledge.” he lowers his eyes to scan the books scattered across the table, all labeled with a lot of highly difficult information. “you are a very fascinating person indeed. would you care to share with me through a cup of tea?”

[jangofettjamz]

Short And Shy

Tara Carpenter x Autistic!Male!Reader

Summary: You were an inch shorter than Tara and extremely shy. She absolutely adored you for it.

Warnings: Description of autistic meltdown

Requested by: @d-epicplayz1028

Words

3rd person POV

Today was stressful on Y/N, a bad mental health day to be specific. Y/N lived by a simple schedule. He'd wake up, get ready for college, ride to school with his girlfriend, learn and spend the rest of the day with her. This would hardly waver from its course, but he was content with that. However, unfortunate events would impede on that schedule.

Tara and Y/N walked hand in hand down the halls of their college, the glares of students did not go amiss by the couple. They watched them; stared, most of envy, jealousy and the occasional resentment. Not that it bothered them of course, at least not Tara. Y/N wasn't fond of all the attention he was getting.

They found their place in their seats, each offering a warm smile to the other, filling them with a sense of warmth and comfort that only such a loving smile could offer.

Though, that sense of warmth quickly dissipated when one of the jocks and his friends burst through the door with a boom box in hand, blasting loud music that bounced across the lecture hall walls.

Y/N winced as the sound waves from the speakers invaded his ear drums. Tara took notice of the discomfort his face had displayed and moved to cover his ears with her hands, her thumbs moving in circular motions across his temples in an effort to calm him.

The lecturer was too busy reprimanding the boys who had interrupted his class to even notice the couple. He spouted something about having the boys expelled if they attempted a stunt like that again, Tara didn't really care for what he had to say, keeping jer focus solely on her lover.

Y/N began babbling incoherently, a symptom of overstimulation from loud noises. People were starting to look at the two of them and starting to whisper, not helping the situation at all. He could feel all the eyes on him, like the whole world's gaze set itself on him, to mock and belittle him.

He felt as though his throat had closed up, cutting off any potential communication. His senses were in overdrive, the smell of the mahogany chairs he sat on invading his nasal passages. His clothes felt wrong, the material itching his skin, too irritable to go unnoticed. Tara put two and two together, he was gonna have a meltdown.

Tara kept whispering sweets words to her partner "Shh shh shh, it's okay baby. You're okay, my love. Can I hold you? Would you like to be held right now?" The boy nodded desperately, wanting the warm embrace and comfort from her. She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into her lap and began rocking him, a technique that proved to be quite effective at calming him.

The lecturer finally took notice of the couple and demanded to know why the sound of cries were present. "Ms Carpenter what is going on?" He asked impatiently after having to deal with the jocks.

"Y/N is having a meltdown, may we be excused?" The lecturer nodded, likely not wanting to argue anymore than he had to. Tara picked Y/N up and carried him out of the classroom, his shorter stature allowing this to be possible.

She hurried out of the classroom with him in her arms, ignoring the numerous voices talking about them. Y/N keeps his legs around her waist and his face in her neck while she carries him to her car, weak sniffles are heard by Tara, making her even more mad at the jocks who caused this.

Once they made out of the building Tara sets him down and opens the car door for him, he hastily gets in and shuts the door, stimming to try and regulate himself. Tara takes her place in the drivers seat and holds him for a few more minutes, carding her fingers through his scalp.

"Stupid jocks, aren't they" She says to which he mumbled out a sound in agreement, still unable to verbally communicate properly. "Let's go to my place. Is that okay?" He nodded again, prompting Tara to buckle up and he the same.

- 20 minutes later

Tara turned the key to open the front door to her apartment, it was there they were met with Sam. She was going to greet Y/N, but thought twice when she saw his current state. She went for it anyway "Hey buddy, what happened?" She says expressing deep concern.

He looked to Tara to speak up for him, she got the message and spoke up. "Some asshole and his friends blasted music in our lecture. He got overstimulated so I took him out of there." She explains, he held her hand a little tighter, his head nestled against her chest.

Sam cooed out of sympathy "I'll be in the kitchen if you need me" she says and he smiles at her words which she happily returned.

Tara kept repeating sweet words to him, making him feel safe. Y/N felt the environment around him become warmer with each word that came out of her mouth, comforting him I'm the best way possible. "You're doing so good baby, you're safe now. Nothing can get you here. No stupid jocks, no loud music, just you and me" he felt at home, she felt like his home; a safe space.

She looked down at him, taking note of his features, admiring him. He saw this and his cheeks went beat red. She giggled mischievously, knowing the effect she has on him. She placed a kiss on his forehead and the heat in his cheeks rose to new heights.

Her hands worked his body, one in his hair and one rubbing his back and arms. He kept his hands in his sleeves due to the shyness he was experiencing. Tara kept placing kisses on his head, loving the way he reacts to them.

"Are you feeling a little shy, baby?" He nodded, then yawned, tired from the meltdown earlier. "Shy and tired I see. Wanna take a nap for me?" A part of him wanted to protest, though, he knew that she was right and that he needed rest.

He nodded his head, eyes half open. She took upon herself to carry him to bed, showing her impressive strength despite being 5'1, though he was inch or two smaller than her.

She placed him on her bed, looming over him like a guardian angel. She draped the blanket over his small frame like a protective shield from all the bad things in the world and kissed his forehead with love and passion "Sleep tight, sweet boy. I love you"

And just like that he was out like a light. Tara stayed by his side as he slept, holding his hand knowing her presence alone brings him great comfort.

She was never leaving him. Ever.

[mitsies]

❊ a night to remember - dazai osamu . . you're a barista in the middle of a turf war. dazai is assigned to babysit.

the café you work at is nowhere near 'fantastic,' like the critics acclaim.

it's situated on a busy street corner, right next to an even busier airport. this draws an unfortunately large amount of new customers. you cringe thinking about the poor foreigners, unable or unwilling to purchase overpriced airport cuisine, who find refuge (and a meal) at your workplace. it must be an awful first experience in the country, you think.

despite the wealth your employers must've accumulated from an ever-rotating customer base, you don't think a single dime has ever gone towards improving the place. the outside seems nice enough, but the appliances are hardly functional. paint peels off the walls in the back, and the windows have long since been sealed shut. it gets way too hot in the summer. tables are rickety and every time someone takes a seat, you fear for their life. a small hole in the wall exists right by the entrance to the back, and sometimes when you go to close shop you hear skittering (which you pray is a mouse and not a ghost.) the good part about this, though, is that a little cat frequents your block around nighttime. she's the only reason you enjoy working at the joint, really, especially since it's open so unusually late, meaning you have to work stupid hours. who needs coffee and sandwiches at 10 at night?

you wonder how your shoddy little place of work has passed a single health inspection. you also wonder how you're still alive, because you're pretty sure that there is black mold growing in the storeroom. that, and the fact that you're all too often worked to the bone. your boss never does much, and your coworkers, though lovely people, take way too many sick days to be normal. you think the black mold may have gotten them. either that or they're lazy and love to see you suffer. more often than not, you're the only one working the busy café all day. that place would be a mess if it weren't for you, you like to believe.

it's an unusually slow night when the cat comes by to visit. she's a little thing, with a fluffy grey body and tiny white paws. her nose is a black button framed by white fur and long whiskers. you call her misty, like the character from pokémon.

you haven't gotten a customer in a while. you suspect it's because of the bad weather; your usual clientele of travelers are all seeking shelter within the airport, not daring to venture out quite yet. misty herself is dripping water all over the entrance of the café, but she's too cute for you to care. you walk out from behind the counter to pet her with the back of your hand. your skin comes away damp and covered in a thin layer of cat fur, which is a little gross but you've seen worse while working here. she meows. from your place by the door, you can see outside to the rain-soaked sidewalk. hard droplets of water pelt down like hail, staining the world a shade darker. you grimace, because there's no way you can walk home in this downpour.

"what do i do now, misty?" you stoop down to stroke the cat a little more. she purrs a little, and her long fur continues to stick to your hand in its dampness. nasty.

standing back up, you make your way to the back of the shop to rinse your hands in the sink. you aren't expecting anyone to come in at this point, not when it's this late, and not in this weather. you are proven very wrong when you hear the door creak open, and misty's meow before she scampers away to a far corner of the store.

plastering your best customer service smile on your face, you look up and move to the counter to greet the new arrival. you expect them to be a particularly brave traveler, and you imagine the mess of rainwater you'd later have to mop up off the floor. you are, however, pleasantly surprised by the sight of one of your favourite regulars. "oda!"

he's usually not in this late. but he gives you a small kind of smile as he closes the umbrella he holds and stores it in the designated area, bless him. you, to this day, wonder why he chooses to come to this raggedy little shop enough to be considered a regular. the coffee isn't that good, and the pastries are always a little dry, in your opinion. plus, it's just gross. maybe you're just a hypochondriac, though, because oda seems like a smart and sensible man who would not come to a café that would give him diseases. probably. you hope.

he's a kind, quiet person. you don't know much about him, if anything at all. he's got your name memorised and always greets you, and he tips well, and he asks about your day sometimes. you think he's sweet. maybe not smart, actually, if he keeps coming back. or maybe he's a health advisor coming to collect evidence to shut the place down— oh, you could only hope this is true.

misty, upon realising it's just oda, walks her little feet back over towards the entrance. the tall man bends over to pet the little cat, and for the first time, you catch sight of another person behind him. a boy. he's tall, or at least taller than you. but he doesn't look like much. a set of spindly limbs, bandages covering one eye, while the other is sunken and tired. a coat hangs loosely from his shoulders. you wonder if he's been eating enough. in a flash, though, his eyes connect with yours. it's brief, and awkward, and he stares straight into you like he can see through your skull into your thoughts. a shiver runs down your spine. he might look your age but there is something about him that tells you he has been around far too long, and seen enough for lifetimes. oda stands back up, cutting your view of the boy off. you readjust, trying to shake off the uncanny veil that's just descended on your little store. "your usual, oda?"

he smiles again. "please. thank you."

you dare look at the boy again. "and anything for you, sir?"

his gaze flickers back towards you. it's less heavy than before, but still, a force resides behind it. he hums and smiles. it seems hollow. you try to pay it no mind. "nope."

you nod briskly and go about preparing oda's drink. in your periphery, you watch the pair settle down by a table on the side wall of the shop, right against a big window. oda's back is facing you and you can feel his companion's eyes following your moves every so often. you try your best to ignore it, the way his eyes carry a pressure that drills into your skull.

it's 8:07 at night when oda gets a call. you aren't eavesdropping, but you don't miss the furrow of his brows and the vacancy that passes through his eyes. he'd probably leave soon. you purse your lips; might as well close once these two leave. they came in half an hour ago, and not a single soul had even passed out the door since.

sure enough, oda stands. he fishes around in his wallet for a crisp bill— another reason why he was your favourite regular, his tips never fell short— and gives you a polite, tight-lipped smile. the mystery boy follows suit. he doesn't spare you a glance, though, not until oda halts at the door as if something's just occurred to him. he turns back to the counter and calls your name. you look up from where you were wiping down some ancient appliances. "everything okay?"

he nods, and his head involuntarily falls to the side inquisitively. "how are you getting home tonight?"

you grimace. "i'm walking."

oda and the mystery boy exchange a look. you presume it's the heavy rain they're concerned about, so you pipe back in: "it's okay, though! i have a spare coat in the back. i think."

the boy gives you another look. like you're an idiot, like he knows something you don't. you'd wonder what was going on, but that was likely above your pay grade.

oda turns back to his companion. you hear them exchange words quietly, quiet enough to be drowned out by the rain still pouring outside. they are discussing far too intensely for it to be just about the rain. at the end of the spirited conversation, oda looks resolved, and the boy looks.. upset? disgruntled? he looks more his age, that's for sure. younger, even, like a petulant child. you would laugh if you weren't so on edge.

something is off. it's like the air in the shop has suddenly grown heavier by a hundred tons. it's suffocating. you are more excited than usual to close early and go home once these two finally make their exit. but then the boy sits back down. you fight the frown growing on your face.

oda is still standing. he takes the umbrella by the door and taps it against the entrance matt. clear flecks of rainwater fall down into the fabric like a small scale version of the downpour outside. he turns back to the boy, and then swivels to face you with a small, polite smile. "thank you for the drink. i hope you don't mind that my friend dazai is staying here for a while to avoid the rain."

you want to die. staying at your place of work for the next few hours until the official closing did not seem like an ideal night. mentally you mourn the night you planned to have when you got home early; goodbye to your cozy blanket, and warm bed, and movie and popcorn. but making coffee isn't that hard and you're basically paid to be nice and stay up late, so you just smile back and say, "no problem! we close at 10, and it'll probably have calmed down by then. probably."

oda nods and walks back out the door. misty meows at his heels, until he's out from under the overhang and gone from sight. faintly, you can see his silhouette blue-lit beneath streetlights, only if you squint. after a few beats, even the shadow of the man is gone.

you slump back down onto the counter, and then slide back up because you'd just cleaned it and now you'd have to do it again. a resigned sigh escapes past your lips, and you look up to see that the boy is looking at you. what was his name again? dazai? you somehow manage a nice-enough smile, looking back into his hollow eyes. he remains expressionless; it unnerves you, like a glass of cold water down your back. awkwardly, you begin, "do you... want anything to drink now? or eat? i'm going to have to throw all these out soon."

his heavy stare leaves you for only a second as you gesture vaguely to the display case of pastries. he looks like he considers it for a second before he smiles and says, "a chocolate croissant seems good!"

it's uncanny, the way the hollows of his eyes misalign with the tone of his voice. he sounds happy. he sounds young. but the way his joy is displayed is strange. it's a mirror. like he's only watched other people be kind and learned to imitate. as if he's pretending to be human. you can't look into his eyes anymore. instead, you turn to warm up the pastry without words.

when you move to bring the pastry to his table, you find dazai surveying the glass door, as if he is mesmerised by the rain still falling in heavy torrents. your plan is, originally, to slide the treat in front of him, smile and say nothing, and speedwalk away back to the counter and pretend to be busy cleaning until the stranger either a), leaves, or b), the rain stops and you can get out of here. however, it seems that misty has other plans. in a motion that you're sure she intends to be a show of affection and not a ploy to humiliate you, she runs in front of your legs and headbutts your ankle, causing you to trip over. you land with a less-than-gracious huff, and barely manage to pull yourself up from your stomach to your knees before you feel dazai's eyes back on you.

there is a small smile on his face, that creases his visible eye. you frown ruefully, and move to rise and apologize for the disruption. but to your surprise, he stands to help you up. his extended hand is slim. he has thin fingers, like wire, and a wrist wrapped in fresh, white bandages that show through his white button-down. his hands are just as cold as they look.

"graceful," he comments as he pulls you up. you purse your lips, choosing to ignore his comment.

"i'm sorry. i'll remake your food."

he considers you for a moment, looking you up and down. suddenly, you feel very seen. in a strange, unfamiliar way. you hope your apron isn't askew or messy. you hope you don't look as frazzled as you feel. why do you hope that?

"no worries!" and thank god he says that, because you truly are not in the mood to be doing much of anything. but you ask the obligatory, 'are you sure?' to which he just says, 'i'm sure,' so the whole conversation was redundant, really. shifting back to behind the counter, you begin to clean out the display case. and you're really finding yourself in a cleaning flow until dazai's voice breaks through your haze. he says your name. you're confused as to how he knows your name, until you realise you wear a nametag, and then you're just a little embarrassed as you reply, "yes?"

"does oda come here often?"

you glance up at him while wiping a shelf with a rag. he's not looking at you, rather staring back out into the rain. misty is approaching his table. she's usually shy; you wonder if she will let him pet her.

"often enough. he's usually here once or twice a week. never usually this late, though."

at your response, you see out of the corner of your eye as dazai shifts to face you, transfixed on the methodical motions of your hands cleansing the mess of the counter. he hums, "really?"

"yeah. he's one of my favourite regulars." and you almost leave it at that but your curiosity gets the better of you, and you ask, "what are you both doing out here at this time, anyways?"

dazai considers you. then he turns back away with a ghost of a smile. "business calls."

you can't help the look that crosses your face. what a tasteless answer. so dramatic. and then, something clicks. you blink. your area was under port mafia protection and recently, a rival group has been posing threats to it. it's never affected you, always in the western district of your area, so you've never really paid it much mind. you blink. so, this boy was affiliated with those groups. either the mafia or the rebels, but you're inclined to believe that it's the former because of his crypticness and the sheer amount of black he wears. (you're honestly a little surprised you didn't clock this sooner. no normal people dress like that.) your neurons are firing at a rapid pace, making connections. so... was oda in the port mafia too? your eye twitches. you have been serving a mafioso black coffee and almond muffins for months without knowing.

when you finally look back at dazai, he's watching you again. there's something like curiosity painting his expression, more than you've seen from the boy since he walked in. you're maybe perhaps a little shellshocked so all you can manage to ask is, "am i in trouble?"

he laughs an echoey, hollow laugh. you're embarrassed but also a little indignant because you think you have a right to know, maybe. "you haven't done anything. as long as i'm here you'll be fine."

your eye twitches again.

"so i am in trouble, then."

dazai frowns. "you have such little faith."

for a split-second you forget that he is a member of the most dangerous organization in all of yokohama and not just a boy your age, as you retort, "it's hard to have trust when the person left in charge of my safety looks like he weighs the same as my cat."

misty meows as if she understands you. dazai blinks. you blink back, before adding a tasteful, albeit a little uncomfortable, "with all due respect. sir."

and he smiles. it's a familiar one. faint smile lines appear, his left cheek creases deeply enough to dimple. it's a real, earnest smile. he looks young and alive like the boys at your school. he's cute, almost. you can't help but smile back, just a little. suddenly, you're thinking about his hand again, and how it felt in yours. you turn away with a light exhale and busy yourself with wiping down cases again.

"oda told me that he 'appreciated your sardonicism,'" dazai muses, "and i didn't know what he meant until now."

you turn the sink on and begin to sponge down various mugs. "thank you, i think."

"you're welcome."

menial conversation follows. dazai asks about your work, and you're glad he chose this topic, because really, you could complain about this establishment for hours if someone gave you the opportunity. he listens intently as you talk about your coworkers and manager, the abysmal pay, and the ghastly sanitary standards of the place. to this topic, dazai glances around and questions you.

"maybe you're a hypochondriac," he says, "it looks clean enough to me."

you stare at him, hands still in the sink, covered in suds. you blink. was he blind?

you're about to respond, when the door opens. you glance at the clock; 9:48. twelve minutes before closing. you're about to try and muster up the last of your energy to be the best barista you can be before dazai speaks first. "oda. you're back early."

thank god it's oda. you look up to see misty run to him purring, as he puts his umbrella down. "we finished up the..." he glances carefully up to you, "business early."

dazai waves a hand dismissively. "they know."

oda raises his eyebrows and looks at you. "you do?"

"i do," you affirm, "you keep less-than-subtle company."

"hey!"

you and oda both ignore dazai. the taller man addresses you instead, "then you should know that it's safe to go out for tonight. and the rain is stopping, too."

you exhale. it'd been easy to ignore how stressed you were about the 'dangerous situation' that you'd been told nothing about happening right outside your place of work. and then, it clicks; dazai was distracting you from all that on purpose with his torrent of questions. you look back at him. he simply smiles.

oda speaks again. "i'll be back tomorrow morning to check on things. get home safe."

turning to dazai, he states, "the car is waiting outside. take the umbrella."

his departure leaves three people in the shop, like it's been for the past hour; you, dazai, and misty the cat. so, two people, you guess. and you can't help the twinge of sorrow that makes itself known inside your chest at the fact that this may be the first and last night that you see him. the only thing you can say is, "it was nice to meet you, dazai."

he stands. misty makes a cat noise. he meets your eyes and there is something less than hollowness there. his smile seems more real than before.

"you'll see me again," he almost promises, as if he could read your mind.

"good," is all you have time to reply, before he is out the door. you bite the inside of your cheek to restrain the grin that is breaking out from across your face, "good."

flowers chosen: pink camellia & forget-me-not . . longing for you & don't forget me

❊ send a request! ❊ 5k masterlist ❊ event info ❊

[imaginedanvrs]

my demon gave me everything

part 7 l masterlist

summary: dark!natasha romanoff x reader. Natasha Romanoff saves the world. Morals, lifestyle and past aside, the fact is that she puts her life on the line for everyone else. And for this, she believes she’s owed something. She saves billions of lives on the regular, so why not take the occasional one for herself?

word count: 3k

warnings: esablished kidnapping, physical and psychological abuse, power dynamics, manipulation, developing stockholm syndrone, whole load of emotional whiplash

Unfortunately, Natasha was unable to enquire further into the conversation that had kept her up hours after you had fallen asleep, as the next morning you had a fever of almost 39 degrees celsius. The redhead had awoken to find you shivering violently while dripping with sweat, it was a fever unlike any you had had before even as someone who was prone to getting sick. You couldn’t stay still but didn’t have the energy to toss and turn, instead laying in constant discomfort that stemmed from your ankle that was feeling worse. 

  Natasha watched you for a few hours as your symptoms rapidly progressed. At first she had assumed it was some kind of reaction to the drugs she had given you the day before but soon realised the cause came from your foot once she spotted the traces of blood on the duvet. She pulled the fabric back to reveal your swollen ankle smeared with blood. When did you break skin? That had never been Natasha’s aim, that wasn’t how it was meant to go. 

   On closer inspection the spy knew the area was infected due to the extreme discolouration of the skin and what oozed out. That had never happened before. The break was always clean and precise and Natasha never broke the skin to ensure that very thing never happened. The breaks always healed within a month, if they stayed that much longer, and it was impossible to tell it had happened. That was Natasha’s style. It was precise. But judging by the state of your foot, it hadn’t happened like that for you and somehow Natasha had missed it. She never missed anything, but you had managed to shock her once more. 

  The Avenger left you to pace around her apartment and considered her next move. Really, she should’ve killed you. You weren't worth the extra effort required to deal with a medical situation like that, nor would you be fun to toy with the more unresponsive you got. The easiest course of action for the Russian would be to walk back into that bedroom and snap your neck - You weren't even really worth a bullet. However something about the concept didn’t sit right with the redhead. Perhaps it was just that she didn’t want to throw out an uncompleted project. She had yet to be able to figure you out entirely and if she killed you she would never know. Or perhaps part of her wondered ‘what if?’ What if you were able to stick around for an extra few months if she just dealt with this infection. It would save her the hassle of acquiring another woman after you. 

  Besides, if Natasha did kill you, she would always have to know that it was because of a mistake she made. Her pride wouldn’t take that too well. So Natasha begrudgingly took out her phone and sent a swift text to one of the only people she would let step foot inside her apartment. He soon replied, letting the redhead know he would be there shortly so the Russian went back to the bedroom where you lay whimpering in agony. 

  Natasha sat down on the edge of the bed next to you and watched with interest as you writhed around, seemingly without realising the redhead was there. Natasha brushed the hair away from your face and your eyes shot open to meet hers, though they didn’t quite seem to register the redhead. She frowned as you turned away and began shivering uncontrollably again. Natasha pulled the discarded sheets back over your body and got a washcloth and bowl of water from the bathroom to set about cleaning your ankle as much as she could. She needed it to look as presentable as possible so that she didn’t seem like a complete idiot to the other Avenger. 

  Just as she set the bowl aside, Natasha heard wisps of sparks forming just outside the bedroom and turned her head in time to see Strange appear in one of his portals and step foot inside the apartment. He wasn’t in his usual cloak, instead wearing his plain shirt, trousers and jacket combo though his ring remained stubbornly on his finger.

  Natasha nodded to him and he did the same back without a word needing to be exchanged. The pair weren’t close and they both knew why Stephen was there so there was no need for pleasantries. He strolled into the bedroom with his usual air of arrogance that had always led the redhead to know they had a mutual understanding in their morals and that they were on the same wavelength. Strange was no angel either. 

  “So this is the latest,” he commented as he watched you claw at the sheets as though searching to find some kind of relief. Natasha didn’t answer and instead pulled back the covers to reveal your broken ankle that had grown more angry looking in the past hour. The movement pulled you from your restless sleep and you gazed down the bed at the pair through hooded eyes. You weren't sure that Strange was even real at first, never having expected to see someone else in the apartment but you had just enough sense to understand they were both looking at your ankle. Natasha had brought a doctor to see you. 

  “I know it’s infected but I need you to tell me if antibiotics are going to be enough,” the redhead said loud enough for you to hear. Infected?

  Strange knelt down in front of the bed and placed his rough hands on your ankle, feeling for where the bone had snapped. You whined and tried to crawl away from his uncomfortable grip but he only held you tighter and ignored your protests. Natasha clenched her jaw at the sound, not liking that someone other than her was hurting you. “I didn’t ask you here to fuck it up more,” she quipped. Strange stopped and shot Natasha the same irritated look he used to when other surgeons disagreed with him. 

  The sorcerer stood up and began to swipe his hands through the air several times, creating another circle of sparks though this time it looked in on the bones in your foot, almost like an x-ray. He hovered over you long enough for Natasha to pry and see a small, barely identifiable mass forming around the detached bone. Just as Strange was looking for. 

  “She has Osteomyelitis,” he concluded and began to venture out of the room, apparently done assessing you. You watched him go with a frown. 

  “That’s never happened before,” Natasha called back as she followed him out. Your frown deepened as you registered the words. Before? 

  “Well that cut is infected and now it’s attacking the bone,” Strange explained. “Antibiotics might be enough but you should take her to a hospital or at least Tony’s lab to be sure. If the drugs aren’t enough she’ll lose her leg if she’s lucky. If not, she’ll die.” 

  “She’s not going anywhere,” Natasha said firmly. That was a non negotiable. Strange turned to the redhead and hummed. 

  “So you don’t care that she could die?” Strange enquired curiously.

  “What makes you think I would?” Natasha spat back. 

  “The fact that you called me here for one thing. You never did that for the others,” he pointed out.

  “The others never got sick. She’s convenient, I wanted to make sure that I wouldn’t be wasting my time getting antibiotics if it wouldn’t be enough. But I’m also sure as hell not taking her outside this apartment.” Natasha explained defensively but Strange didn’t buy it.

  “So now you know, the antibiotics might not be enough, are you still going to get them?” The Russian tightened her jaw, wanting the American out. 

  “Considering that will be less of an inconvenience than having to get another one, yes.” Strange hummed and took another glance towards the bedroom before creating another portal in the middle of the room.

  “They’ll be with you within the hour then,” he said, strolling back through the portal to leave Natasha with what he had said.

  Arrogant ass doesn’t know shit about me. Natasha thought in distaste as she came back to you, though once she got another look she reconsidered her disregard for Strange’s point. She didn’t want you to die, she knew that, the question was merely why. 

  Was it purely down to convenience like she played upon so heavily? Perhaps it was more because Natasha had yet to fully understand you yet and didn’t want to leave the mystery unsolved. Or maybe there was something more that she wasn't allowing herself to explore. The redhead crept around the bed and laid down with her back against the wall, pulling your head into her lap. You were getting weaker. 

  Natasha was fond of you, she decided. That was the adjective she was just about comfortable enough to admit to herself. She was fond that you were something unfamiliar, the type of challenge she hadn’t found herself facing in several years when she was first bringing home women and figuring them out. They became so predictable after a while and Natasha had been able to break them so effortlessly that sometimes there was little fun in it. But you had responded to very little things the way she had anticipated. Using the knife, the plate, craving her touch without giving in entirely, not leaving. They were all unexpected and Natasha wasn’t willing to let go of something that could provide her with more entertainment. 

  She wasn’t going to take you out of the apartment, but Natasha would do what she could for you within those four walls.

*

  You  basked in the feeling of Natasha swiping the shower sponge across your body in a steady, relaxing rhythm that almost lulled you to sleep in the tub. You kept your eyes shut and the faint smile across your lips hadn’t faltered since Natasha had placed you in the pleasantly hot water. She never joined you in the tub as you often wished she did to sit herself behind you to drape her arms around your front as she washed you. Instead, she crouched on the bath mat beside you to wash you. 

  “All done, malysh,” the redhead spoke gently so as not to startle you while she finished rinsing your body. Draping a towel around your shoulders, Natasha helped you stand up and sit on the edge of the bathtub while she finished drying you off dutifully. Her towels were always so soft and unscented that you wondered what kind of miracle conditioner she used on them. You had asked her once but she had chuckled and told you that you didn’t have to worry about that sort of thing. She was right. 

  Applying a couple of lotions and rebandaging your foot, the Russian led you out of the bathroom with a firm hand on your waist and a watchful eye on your foot to examine how well it supported your weight. Not great, but improving. A couple days prior you hadn’t been able to walk at all. The antibiotics, medications and treatments she had been giving you were quick working, having been given soon enough that Natasha narrowly avoided the necessity of bringing you to a hospital. She knew she could handle you fine on her own. 

  After helping you get dressed, the redhead set up a new disk on the record player she had recently brought into the bedroom. The records ranged from American artists from the 80s and 90s to classical and even some Russian songs from an era you were unfamiliar with. You enjoyed listening to them and discovering a part of Natasha you hadn’t expected to learn. It felt as though she was letting you in while also providing some entertainment for you during your healing process. You were oblivious to the fact the redhead only brought it in because she always listened to the records as she worked and it was purely for her own benefit. She knew you didn’t see it that way and didn’t correct your thinking. 

  Once you were settled in bed, Natasha brought over a container with a few pills in and a glass of apple juice. It was your favourite but it was also recommended by Strange. You winced at the pills but the redhead gave you a warning look so you begrudgingly put them all in your mouth as quickly as possible and chugged them down with the whole glass of apple juice. You could feel the bile rising in your throat immediately after but a swift slap to your cheek made the feeling evaporate. It was the only way you could take pills you had both found after little trial and error. The only way you didn’t throw up was if Natasha gave you a shock. It was necessary, you told yourself. It was a bonus, Natasha beamed. 

  The redhead sat down against the headboard next to you and set about working on her laptop as you lay under the covers next to her and listened intently to the music. That was how it had been since Strange came to see you and how it would continue for a short while longer. The redhead helped you with everything you needed and ensured you were as comfortable as possible to help aid your healing.

  Slowly but surely, you got better. Over the course of a week or so, the antibiotics kicked in swiftly and helped you regain some of your strength, though you still contained yourself to the bedroom and bathroom. The pain in your foot, while still present, was reduced significantly so that you could wander to the bathroom on your own as much as needed and Natasha was always right by your side to help. In fact, she rarely left you at all. The spy never left the apartment in the time you were getting better. She ordered groceries and medicines to the door that she was insistent on helping you take for the first few days so that you didn’t spill anything on her sheets. Whatever the reason, you loved it. 

  Though Natasha went through the motions with a sense of duty rather than care, you were none the wiser and only saw everything the redhead was doing as kindness and perhaps reconciliation. She tended to your wound periodically and ensured you were always laying in the most comfortable position. You felt cared for in a way you never had before, from anyone. It was electrifying. 

  Though she would never admit it, Natasha was relieved when she recognised the signs of your infection clearing and health improving. She was ready for you to return back to normal so that she could resume where she left off, except she hadn’t realised how much her dutiful care had shifted things in your mind and, unbeknown to her, the redhead’s. 

  “What did you mean when you said to Strange that this had never happened before?” You asked one night when you were lying peacefully listening to the tunes on the record player. 

  “It doesn’t matter,” Natasha was quick to answer, not feeling like telling you about the others. You hummed, not wanting to push the good mood the redhead was in. You liked her like that, the last thing you wanted was to ruin it. 

  Several minutes passed before you spoke again. “Thank you for looking after me,” you said gratefully, tracing a small circle on the Russian’s exposed collarbone. 

  “I’m the reason you needed looking after,” Natasha pointed out plainly. 

  “I know but…I don’t much care,” you shrugged simply, not knowing how else to phrase something that was entirely the truth. You looked up at the redhead with a smile, admiring the way her loose hair fell around her face. She had it down that day and combining it with her black hoodie gave her a comforting soft feel. 

  Natasha examined the way you were gazing at her and felt an unfamiliar lump in her throat form. No one had ever looked at her like that before, not with that much…adoration and gratitude. It was unfamiliar and Natasha’s first response to something unfamiliar was to run and examine before engaging. Unfortunately, that didn’t work well in such a situation. 

  “There were others before you,” she started, insistent on driving a wedge between you. You listened intently and it only made her angry. “Other women. There has been for years. I take women who are nothing, who have nothing, no one, and I bring them back here to lay in this bed with me so that I can break them just like I’m owed.” Natasha’s eyes darkened and your chest tightened. 

  “The thing that never happened before? Well I’ve broken a lot of ankles doing that test but none of them made such a pathetic fuss about it. You got sick because you’re the weakest I’ve ever had and I should have never wasted my time with you,” Natasha spat, getting up from the bed but keeping her eyes on you so you could see the hatred within them. Poison dripped from every word and you felt it work its way into your system with no delay.

  “Strange told me to take you to the hospital but I would have much rather snapped your neck than waste that kind of energy on you. You’re just a toy to fill my time with,” she finished with one final glare. She turned and left the room, slamming the door behind her. 

  You stared at the closed door for a while, not believing what you had just heard and willing yourself to wake up from a bad dream, a nightmare. But instead, you were forced to lay there and listen to everything be repeated in your mind. You thought she genuinely cared about you. You knew it was wrong to expect that of someone who literally kidnapped you but you wanted it to be true so badly, you wanted the connection you thought you were laying down the foundations to build. 

  You were wrong. You were naive. You were just like the others.

[twstgarden]

❀ ❝ 𝘁𝗼 𝗺𝘆 𝗱𝗲𝗮𝗿𝗲𝘀𝘁 𝗽𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗰𝗲 ❞

━ malleus draconia x fae! gn! reader ━ part 2 of so close yet so far. unable to find the strength to let the prince know of your true feelings, you decided to pen down your thoughts every night. unfortunately, you failed to safeguard those letters properly, which caused the prince to receive those letters and reply back to you with a surprise announcement. 

may include a few spoilers for chapter 7! f/n stands for first name.

do not steal or translate without my permission.

‘to his royal highness prince malleus draconia,

this is another of the unsent letters that i’ll write to you. we have known one another for a century or so, and i have always thought this job of mine would be mediocre, but i often find myself waking up in the morning filled with motivation to guard you properly and to be around you. 

though inexperienced, i am no fool for i immediately knew i held romantic feelings for you. however, i do not have the intention to make you aware of it. you’re a prince and i’m your guard, that’s all we’re destined to be. 

it is enough for me to stand by your side in regard to your safety. it is enough for me to see you sit in the lounge with the rest as you sip on your drink and zone out from time to time. it is enough for me to be around you. 

with how sappy and emotional this letter sounds, i am, quite frankly, relieved that i do not need to send this letter to you. 

forever yours, f/n l/n’

you sighed to yourself as you placed the pen down and folded the paper, tossing it into the treasure chest box by your study table along with the other unsent letters you wrote for the prince. your working hours were done a few hours ago, so you found yourself seated alone in your room as you stared at the disorganized stack of folded letters in the treasure chest.

after a while, you stood up and stretched your limbs before crashing onto your bed to get a good night’s sleep and forget about your worries for a moment. 

another day to persevere and hold back your feelings for the young master.

you were currently in the courtyard with the young master and the other two retainers. it was minutes after class dismissals and malleus wanted to sit in the courtyard for a while, possibly to relax. it was quiet, at least for you since you were zoning out. silver and malleus were both talking about the black coffee they drank this morning before class and sebek, once again, seemed rather upset at not being able to spend some quality time drinking the same drink as malleus due to his dislike towards the beverage.

at some point in their conversation, malleus told the two of them to go ahead and train since the courtyard did not have a lot of people around, leaving you and malleus to sit together on the bench. despite the blank expression on your face, your heart was beating really fast at the slightly close proximity. 

well, you need to calm down because he’s only sitting. 

your eyes stayed on silver and sebek as you observed their combat moves, unaware that you were already evaluating their performance and felt proud at how they’ve improved over the years. after their combat training, sebek looked at you with a rather proud smile and even the usually reserved silver was smiling at you too.

“lieutenant! i did better than silver, right?! have you seen how i blocked his last attack?!” exclaimed sebek in excitement as you smiled at them. you hummed with a nod as you responded back, “mhm, you two did great. you’ve improved a lot! keep at it, you two.” silver thanked you politely as you continued conversing with the three about their swordsmanship and combat skills.

with your attention focused on your juniors, you failed to notice the way his sharp eyes stayed on you for a long while. though his expression was blank, it was evident that he is impressed with your skills as he always has been and will continue to hold you in high regard. 

later on, you got back to your dorm room as it was already late at night. you sat by the window as you stared out at the dark backyard of diasomnia in silence, spacing out and falling into your daydreams with a small smile on your face.

however, your little delusional moment was interrupted by a bird flying right into your window and settling on the windowsill with an envelope in its beak. you raised a brow in confusion as you noticed the words ‘to l/n’, “for me…? thanks.”

you grabbed the letter from the bird as it flew away from your window, leaving you alone with the letter and opened it to read the contents with an intrigued and confused expression because who sends letters at 2 in the morning? especially to you of all people?

‘to my dearest,

this letter may arrive to you in the dead hours of the night and you may find yourself wondering who or why this was sent to you. i have received one of your “unsent”, as you claimed, letters. perhaps it ended up on my desk by accident, but i recognized your handwriting immediately. 

to know that you’ve held such deep feelings for me leaves me astounded. it is a surprise, but a wonderful one. 

you may remember the conversation a few days ago in the lounge about lilia announcing my grandmother’s wish to aid me in my search for a spouse. i have no need for the aid as i had already found the person i wish to marry and i, as well as my grandmother, have spoken to your family yesterday to request your hand. 

you say we are destined to only be the prince and the guard, but perhaps a proposal from me will make you change your mind about this ‘destiny’ that you speak of. 

meet me in the dorm garden 30 minutes after the bird sent you this letter.

i shall see you then.

eternally yours, m.d.’

you blinked your eyes several times as thoughts started running through your mind. ‘m.d.? m.d.??? as in malleus draconia? as in my master? his royal highness? the man i’ve been crushing on?’ 

“holy fuck,” you mumbled in surprise as you stared at the letter. he claimed to have already spoken to your family yesterday, so it seemed your father was made aware of the young master’s interest in having you as his spouse. your mind started to drift back to that night when you heard the announcement from lilia, and thought that there was something you might have missed that made you not realize it was you all along.

"so, i've heard queen maleficia wishes to help you find your significant other, malleus... what do you think of it?" asked lilia, which broke you out of your trance, suddenly interested in the conversation but remained silent, as usual. 

"hmm..." 

a hum escaped malleus' lips, setting down his teacup on its saucer as his sharp green eyes stared at his beverage in deep thought. your eyes were glued on his figure, taking in his features as you awaited for him to share his response. he had always looked strikingly beautiful, malleus was one attractive man and you would never deny that.

you loved everything about him - those striking green eyes of his, his beautiful horns, the adorable child-like smile he would display every time he was happy, his commanding presence, his voice, his powerful skills and abilities, and so on. 

there was something about this man that you promise to serve with your whole life, so it was not a surprise that you had fallen for him over the course of your time together. 

you snapped out of your thoughts as soon as malleus cleared his throat, preparing to share his response with a smile, "that's fine... i already have someone in mind..."

ah... 

stupid.

delusional. 

you were stupid enough, delusional even, to think that the feelings you hold for the man you're serving will be reciprocated.

what a joke. 

despite the smiles on lilia, silver, and sebek's faces, you remained indifferent as you felt your heart slightly crack. you didn't want to ruin the happy atmosphere as much as you wanted to sigh out in despair and run up to your room, you didn't want them to suddenly be concerned if you decided to storm out.

so you sat there silently, tuning out the conversation as you were no longer interested to listen to something that you knew will hurt your feelings even more. 

with such thoughts in mind, you failed to notice the way malleus was staring at you. he had his eyes on you for a while now after the announcement, but frowned a little as he noticed your silence. lilia, silver, and sebek looked at you as well, noticing that indifferent expression as you cast your gaze on the coffee table before you. lilia then glanced at malleus as he asked in a soft tone, “do they know?” the latter shook his head in response, making it clear that you were not aware of any of this and it may seem that you’re plunging your mind with negative thoughts. 

“f/n?”

silver called out to you softly, but you didn’t respond. maybe to you, you believe none of the four would ever address you by your name in such a familiar way, but little do you know about the several missed calls of your name and not your title due to your spacing-out habits. sebek continued to look at you as he called out this time, “mx. f/n?” 

a soft sigh left lilia’s lips as he mumbled, “they’re spacing out again…” he continued to stare at you for a bit before calling out to you a little louder than those two did, “lieutenant?” you snapped out of your trance as soon as you heard lilia's voice calling out to you, addressing you in your official title and not your name. 

because you were spacing out.

"yes...?"

you replied softly, finding no energy to speak after feeling so downhearted. you noticed the hint of concern in your comrades' eyes whilst your future king looked over at you with curiosity as lilia spoke, "you haven't said a word ever since we started sitting on the lounge. is there something on your mind? we've been calling out to you for a while now, but you didn't respond."

"oh... um..."

you couldn't think of a proper excuse as silver asked, "are you tired, lieutenant? you can retire for the night..." you hummed in response as you shook your head, "i'm not tired yet. my apologies for being in a trance and spacing out." 

"hmm... well, that's fine since you're with us, but you must remain vigilant when on guard duty. it is troubling to think that you might not be paying attention to malleus or your own safety if you're in a daze," reprimanded lilia as he leaned back on the chair. he may have already been retired, but he was still your mentor, he taught you all the sword-fighting skills that you practice today as well as combat tips that are useful in the field. 

you meekly nodded as you mumbled, "yes, sir. my deepest apologies." 

you went silent once again as the conversation between them continued, but malleus was also silent. his gaze stayed on you as he thought to himself, ‘i wonder what keeps their mind busy… i shall inform them of my interest soon, then…’ 

and so, you found yourself in the garden of your dormitory as you found the tall man standing by the bushes, eyeing the dark scenery as he waited for your presence. once you arrived, you gave him a polite bow as you spoke softly, “my apologies for making you wait, young master.”

malleus turned to look at you and shook his head in a dismissive manner, replying back to you in that attractive voice of his, “no need for an apology. i simply came earlier than needed. i assume you have received my letter, then?” 

there was a small smile on his face as his expression seemed more lighthearted and softer than usual. you couldn’t help but nod in response as you tried to keep your blank expression on, “yes, sir…” 

“perfect… and just call me by my name. there is no need for formalities between us, f/n.”

oh my, he addressed you by your name this time. you nodded your head once again as you spoke calmly, “as you wish, malleus.” you then continued to converse with him for a while until he turned his head to look at you with a smile. his smile looked beautiful as it always was and you find yourself smiling back at him.

the prince then handed you a rose, speaking in a tender tone as his eyes stayed fixated on you. 

“i would be happy to have you as my spouse if you’d let me.”

© twstgarden 2023 || please do not steal, translate without my permission, or use this to train a.i.

[kaisers-house-of-desires]

Can you do an Yandere Idia x male reader

with reader being Idia's fake boyfriend so Idia's parent don't have to worry or talk about his social life but then Idia got too attached to reader during their fake relationship.

reader sleeping on Idia's room and Idia's horny thoughts took over him and he ended up fucking reader and then after that guilt tripped reader to staying with him as he was starting to become more and more desperate for reader's prescence, time, and body.

(i can't think of deeper details im so sorry 😭)

No need to apologize, reader! I think this is quite doable~

Title: Attached

Characters: Idia x m!reader

Contains: Dark Themes(Yandere, manipulation), somniphillia, handjob, biting

Fandom: Twisted Wonderland

Full request below the cut

All characters are 18+

MINORS, FEM ALIGNED, AGELESS/BLANK BLOGS DNI

Reblogs > likes

For Idia, to finally have his parents stop asking about a partner was a blessing, but unfortunately for him, it would start a mess.

It had been over a month, maybe two, since this pretend relationship started. You agreed to help the socially awkward male to get his parents off his back. Did it mean having to share a kiss here, a hug there? A few Magicam images to really sell it?

Sure, and really, neither of you minded.

Except now, in the hours of the night, Idia found himself staring at the ceiling, unable to even play a game or check his phone to distract him. His thoughts ran wild, and you sleeping beside him didn't help. His yellow eyes, practically glowing in the dark as they darted to your sleeping form and back up to the ceiling. The whole reason you were here was at his request. It seemed out of the ordinary for you two, and you couldn't quite understand why he would want you over, but assuming it was to set up another farse to fool his parents, you agreed.

Now he was almost regretting it.

Sitting up, Idia's gaze started from your head to your legs. In your pajamas, you slept on top of the blankets, having commenting on how warm it was in the dorm. Idia had yet to change, but he had assured you he would.

He didn't. His mind was too busy.

The only thing he kept thinking about was you.

He never broke his stare, leaning towards you with an outstretched hand. He had plans to turn you, but luckily for him, you turned on your own, now lying on your back. He got a better view of your face, your sweet, sleeping face.

The memories of your fake dates called back to him. The way you held his hand was far too real, the way your fingers would intertwine. The looks you would give him would cause pink to rise to his pale face. He longed for this more than just for the time he needed. He longed for you, for your time, your energy, your...

Idia positioned himself over you, his head over yours, His heart hammered as sinful thoughts danced along his mind.

Blue lips carefully brushed against your slightly parted ones. You didn't stir, which Idia was thankful for. He firmly pressed his lips to yours, enjoying a sweet, yet needy kiss. It was quick, as he didn't want to wake you from your slumber, not yet.

A kiss wouldn't be enough, however, and now that he had a taste, he wouldn't hold back.

Not moving from your side, Idia sat up, eyes darting to your pajama bottoms. With shaky yet eager hands, Idia undid the button that kept the fabric together at your crotch. Instead of digging into your boxers like he wanted to, he attempted to still, and instead gently rested his hand over the mound of fabric. A shuddering sigh left his mouth, eyes nearly fluttering at the touch.

Ever so carefully, he began to massage you, a soft hum leaving you through your nose. He had never done such a thing to another, only himself as he had many a night to think about all the things he wanted to do with you, to do to you. He felt you begin to harden under his hand, your brows furrowing as a breathy moan slipped by your lips. Your arm moved, causing Idia to stop. To his luck, all you did was rest your arm over your eyes, body stilling once you were finished. Idia waited a couple seconds before continuing, this time finally slipping his hand into your boxers to present your semierect shaft to the warm air.

Idia practically drooled at the sight, his face hot from merely holding it in his hand. There was no turning back, and ever so gently, he began to pump his hand along your cock. A groan startled him, but he pressed on. You felt hot in his hand, almost unbearingly so, and the last sane part of his brain screamed at him to stop, but all it took was a name to make him come to a screeching halt as his head slowly turned toward the source.

You weren't awake, you were still asleep, but you had uttered a name that made Idia's heart swell.

"I...dia...~"

A dream, he thought. He has to be dreaming.

And if you were dreaming, then that means you wanted this too, right?

Throwing caution to the wind, Idia attempted to carefully readjust, putting himself by your legs as he finally, yet reluctantly let go of your cock, which now was harder than what he started with. Excitedly, Idia worked to carefully remove your bottoms, boxers and pants now crumbled beside the bed. Idia messed with the buckle of his belt, shaky and sweaty hands fumbling with the leather and metal as he finally worked on his zipper. Eventually, his cock sprang free from the confines of his black boxers. Not wasting any time, fearing you would wake up soon, he positioned himself, lifting your legs up to gain access to your hole. He knew there was no prep, but time was of the essence for him. He pressed his cock to your entrance and--

"I-Idi--AH!"

At the same moment you attempted to speak his name, Idia pushed himself in, your walls not ready for such a protrusion, but the male didn't care, not at the moment. Right now, he stared you down, glazed yellow eyes meeting your pained ones. You had gripped the blankets below you, swearing out with a sob as you made a fist to hit the mattress in frustration.

"I-I'm sorry, y/n, but I...I couldn't help myself anymore." Idia's voice trembled, but not because of fear. It trembled because he was desperate. He needed to move, he could always explain what's happening in the meantime, right? With that in mind, he began to gyrate his hips into yours, both of you filling the hot air with sinful sounds of lust.

Unable to speak, all you could do was grip at Idia's sleeves, panting heavily with each blissful impact of his cock inside as you met his frenzied gaze. Not like Idia would answer anyway, as the man was babbling a mile a minute about how good you felt, about how incredible you were.

Idia fell over you, his head close to yours as his feral thrusting never ceased. He stared down at you, a twisted smile revealing his sharp teeth.

"I-I want you I want you I want you I want you...!"

Before you could give a rebuttal, or rather attempt one, you found Idia's mouth on your neck, those very teeth digging into the top layer of your flesh. All the while Idia's movements never stopped, not even while you let out a scream, the pain oddly sending a jolt to your stomach, heat to your cock.

And he didn't let go. Idia's jaw locked onto your neck, growls and panting sounding beside your ear. With his teeth sinking in, and his thrusts neverending, you found yourself in a taboo position. You were still waking up, and all of this was happening to you. You weren't sure how to react, what to say. Your body was assaulted with pleasure, and all you could do was let it happen.

But to your luck, or misfortune depending, Idia was quick to cum, likely due to his frenzied state, his desperate need to have you.

He filled your hole decently, a slip of cum escaping from the bottom of your stuffed ass. Part of you was grateful it was over, but another part didn't want it to end. Idia finally released his jaw from your neck, indents of teethmarks branding you, some having specks of blood from the pierced skin. As far as Idia was concerned, you belonged to him.

"Hah...~ Look at you...~ You're a mess...~" Though he was one to talk. Despite the sweat sheening on your forehead, the tired eyes that once again met the flame haired man, it didn't compare to the crazed look Idia wore, the toothy grin that just cursed you with a bite. "Don't worry, though. I-I like messes~ You're my favorite mess~"

"I-Idia..." Your voice sounded like a whine, a plea. Idia never pulled out, but instead remained inside, as if leaving would kill him.

"Shhh it's okay." He leaned back down, and you flinched, thinking he would bite you again, but instead he left a kiss on your forehead. "No need t-to say anything, okay? Couples do this. It's normal."

Couples...wait. Did Idia forget it was all for pretend?

"B-But we..."

"Hm? We...what?"

You blinked back the fatigue that crept up on you. "I-Idia...we're not really dating."

Surprisingly, his face went unchanged. "Of course we are. It's been two months. You agreed to go out with me..."

"Idia that's not--"

"So you lied to me...you were just pretending to date me?"

That...that was the whole point! This was all for pretend to get his parents off his back! You blinked back confused tears.

"We agreed--"

"I don't u-understand...why would you do this? Why would you spend...a-all that time with me...?" You felt the air change, his hair looking more active than normal.

"I-It was for your parents, remember?"

"My parents? My parents are thrilled I have someone! If you leave me they'll never let me hear the end of it!" Orange speckled the blue, he was close to popping off, but instead, you thought back on your actions. Perhaps...you had simply misheard him initially. Maybe you thought it was for the parents, but maybe that was a lie Idia came up with to ask you out, fighting his anxieties.

"I-I...I-I'm sorry. I must have m-misremembered..."

The orange settled, and a smile, not as deranged, grew back to Idia's face. "I don't blame you, love. It's late after all."

Finally pulling out from you, which caused you to whine out lightly, Idia got settled with you in the bed, pulling the blankets up to cover your half nude form with him by your side.

"Sleep. You need it, okay?"

Without another word, and afraid to turn your back on him, you curled up, closing your eyes...

...unable to see the traitorous grin that Idia wore.

[scintillyyy]

i just sometimes think with unpacking misogyny in comics we do need to move a bit beyond "this male character was condescending/mean to this female character and that's sexist and evil" and really get into the meat of how women are viewed as a class within the media in question.

because take robin (1993). the problem with it is not so much tim being mean to steph after steph has made a mistake that almost got or would have gotten someone hurt (such as the robin 80 page giant). the problem with it is also not *necessarily* that some main character traits of steph's are that she's never quite as good as everyone else and she's kind of a liability in the field and she's kind of prone to making mistakes (these are all things that make her a 3d character that's interesting, actually. and are fairly consistent character traits you see under writers who aren't dixon--including kelley puckett, devin grayson, lewis, scott, gabrych etc. the problem is really more the rather unfortunate execution of them than the fact that these character traits exist). the problem underpinning a lot of the issues people take with robin is how the writers view women as a class, and how write their female characters accordingly.

so take dixon. and to dixon, women are both extremely hypercompetent and also extremely incompetent at the same time. this is how he envisualizes women--they need men, but at the same time they are still capable of everything and more. and he also has a tendency to slot women into either the extremely hypercompetent, badass amazing role or the slightly incompetent, but still underestimated and badass role. and it's a sexist, reductive view of women as a class and it's why those character traits of steph that are interesting don't really work well under his writing. because steph very much starts off as the second one--and it's frustrating that she's never given a real chance, that she's given the role of being the more incompetent one who will never be as good as everyone else merely because she is a girl and that is the role she's alloted in life based on how dixon views women as a class.

however dixon's opposite tendency towards if a women isn't incompetent, she's gotta be hypercompetent is also sexist. i think a lot of that panel in robin where bruce tells steph she could be better than tim if she works hard enough, and it's interesting to me because people will forgive this because it's being nice to steph but it's also completely and wholly emblematic of dixon's brand of misogyny. because if she can't be incompetent, she has to be hypercompetent. there's no in between for how dixon views women.

and it's an especially interesting quote to me give the surrounding context--that particular quote takes place at a time when we know dixon had been begging for quite a bit of time to reward steph for her hard work and perserverence with robin. and we know that his plan for her as robin was going to be that she was just so hypercompetent and good and amazing and better than anyone at it, it was just going to fall apart because bruce would be too worried about her because she's a girl and be ultimately unable to work with her. so his story for her was going to swing from she's kind of bad at everything because she's a girl (bad, terrible way of how dixon views women) straight to she's amazing at everything because she was actually destined to be a hypercompetent female all along (which also happens to be a bad, terrible way of how dixon views women). it's definitely a total fuck you quote to editorial that kept refusing the idea of steph as robin. it is a fascinating facet of his sexism. and it's a reflection of how misogyny works in real life, too. the cultural expectations for women to either be the best or be nothing at all is a very real phenomenon.

because that's how it is as a whole. so when you just focus on how the male characters treat the female characters you're missing out on so much else that's misogynistic within a female character's story. misogyny in a narrative is about so much more than how one character is treated (though that's also important). it's about how even their successes/how they're treated "well" have to be viewed under a critical lens. the thing is that fixing misogyny is about ensuring there's an authentic variety and meaningful differences in how women are treated narratively, not just fitting them into a box of competent or not competent.

[twistedwonderworm]

Can i request AFAB smut monsterfucking with azul ashengrotto in his mer form👀

Sorry this took so long and sorry if it's bad. I got swamped by requests and despite that they're still open. So one of my friends helped by writing this for me with me being the one to edit it. So credit to her.

Mating Season (TWST NSFW)

Pairing: Azul Ashengrotto x AFAB!reader

Warnings: rough sex, mer sex, afab terms, reader wearing makeup (forgot to edit that out, I'm sorry)

Word count: 1,138

🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙

Y/n was heading to the Octavinelle dorm, to visit their boyfriend Azul. The couple were planning on spending the summer together. When they got there, they looked around and saw both Jade and Floyd standing almost in front of Azul’s office.

“Hey guys, why are you standing in front of the door? Is Azul busy?” they asked the two. Both Jade and Floyd looked at each other before they looked at Y/N.

“Well…Azul is having a week to himself as he has been really stressed.” Floyd said to them to try and get them away, but Y/N was determined to see their boyfriend. They eventually got the two to move so they could get inside. Jade tried to warn them but the human wouldn't listen.

As Y/N opened the door, they noticed that it was dark, and they closed the door. When they did so, they could see a blue light but what got their gears going were the soft moans they heard. It sounded like Azul though his voice sounded a little deeper than normal. Y/N walked forward to find their boyfriend. When they did find him, their face heated up as they flushed upon seeing what Azul was doing.

Azul was laying in a water filled tub that the twins probably brought in for him, jerking off almost desperately… and in his Mer form no less. They had to admit that he was actually quite beautiful in his mer form, sleek and toned. The coloring also quite gorgeous. But they quickly shook their head to get those thoughts out of their head. Unfortunately, it was futile. They could only think about him being inside them. About him making them see stars. However, Azul had noticed that they had walked in, and he stopped his hand. He looked back at their red, flushed face. He couldn’t help but smirk and called them forward with a finger. His aura was different when he didn’t have his glasses on, and his hair was a slight mess.

“Ah angelfish. I see Jade and Floyd let you inside. Well, since you’re here… come on and help me out, will you?” He purred seductively to them.

Y/N could only gulp softly, What have I gotten myself into? they thought before walking over and slowly going to their knees. They took his cock into their hand. It was a lot bigger than they anticipated and was quite odd, as they had assumed it was one of his arms. Nevertheless they aimed to please.

Soon enough Y/N started to suck on his cock, using their tongue to play with the tip. They soon took in more as they felt Azul’s hand grip their hair, which caused them to deep-throat him. They gagged in surprise from the sudden action, almost choking. Normally, Azul would be flushing at their actions, but would stay soft and tender. Instead he was rough and desperate to cum. It didn't take long before Y/N felt him twitch in their mouth, and they were pulled off.

He scooped them up and moved them to his desk on their back. While they were still being surprised at how easily he was able to do so, there octomer divested them of their bottoms and underwear. His extra arms wrapped around their thighs, keeping them open as he leaned down and attacked their clit with hard sucks and licks. Because of Azul’s heat he was unable to stop even if they begged him to. Though he knew he would at least try even though they tasted so divine. Once he felt they were wet enough, he pulled away with a pop and smirked.

“Oh, don’t worry, angelfish. I’ll give you what you want…if you beg for it.” He said with a chuckle. Y/N could only blink as they whined trying to move their hips but the tight grip of his tentacles were tight. They wanted him to continue but they didn’t want to beg either. Soon they let out a small yelp as one of his free tentacles smacked their clit. They looked at him just to see that damn smug look. The one they both loved and hated. They bit their lower lip and whined again.

“P-please Azul, please taste your prey.” They begged and boy, did Azul deliver. As he ate them out, he could hear them cry out his name over and over again, getting higher each time. Before long they soon could feel the knot tighten then snap as they climaxed on his tongue.

Azul soon pulled away, licking his lips as he moved up and aligned himself before he thrusted all the way in. This wasn’t the first time they had sex, but it was the first time they did it during his heat and in his Mer form. But even if he was in a lust driven haze, he still allowed them to adjust to his size. His tentacle was slick and smooth inside of them, twitching inside them every now and then. Once they gave the okay, they would soon find out why the eels tried to keep them away.

They were moaning loudly as Azul pounded into them, and he could only laugh at their state. Their hair messed up and over their eyes. The lipstick they wore was smeared and the eyeliner streaked down their cheeks from the tears that fell while Azul was giving them great oral.

What they didn’t know was that Azul was on the last day of his heat as it was the strongest. They soon looked at Azul with pleading eyes as their climax was taken away twice now. They could feel that he was close, and so were they. Soon enough azul’s tentacles moved to action as two touched their chest and nipples while another rubbed their clit at a quick pace that sent them spiraling into a hard orgasm. They screamed out his name and almost passed out from pleasure as their body tensed up. When Azul felt them orgasm, clenching around him and trying to milk his cock, he soon followed. He slammed in one more time before he orgasmed himself, pumping them full of cum. He panted and held them close as he shifted back into his human form. When he was back in human form, he sat down in his desk chair, his legs being too wobbly to stand. Soon Azul chuckled and helped them get cleaned up and smiled.

“Are you alright dear? Did I go too rough on you?” he asked them with a knowing smile. All they could do was nod and smile softly. Even if he was rough they knew the next time he had his mating season they were definitely helping him. Afterall, Mer people couldn’t get humans pregnant…or could they?