#chew him like a dog toy and then make him a home cooked meal and give him a forehead kiss

[untitledvik]

i miss my husband guys..

aka shitty pre-sketches |HEAVY ON PRE|

Three of these are heavily referenced pictures that I'm using to try and figure out shaping, especially clothing and anatomy. Hopefully one day if I'm not dead by then that I won't need refs or help posing. Yeeeeaaaayyyy, the joys of being an amateur. I hate art sm. LET ME OUT OF HERE AAHHHHHHHHHHH

Hopefully most of these will make more sense when actually done. Lol.

[webraciszekbastion]

Some Headcanons from Rain Code

Yuma Kokohead

Yuma knows how to cook, and when he remembered this, he saw no problem at all in preparing a meal for everyone, which sometimes even equates to making a different dish for everyone. Since, rediscovering his predisposition to be a chef, Yuma has practically never left the kitchen. Cooking has become the only thing at which he is now calm and not once does the thought "who is he ?", "is he really a detective ?" fly through his mind. etc. The kitchen, is his kingdom, a quiet place where inventing new dishes, elegantly serving and decorating plates, gives him joy and where he really helps people, effectively killing hunger.

Shinigami

Since she understood that you and Yuma are just friends and you are not her rival/rival for attentions, she also started treating you as a friend. Of course, you only see each other in Myster Labyrinths, once you remember her existence. In the human world, you have no way to communicate, which makes Shnigami sometimes very disappointed. Watching you near Yuma, she noticed that you have a tendency to make origami when forced to sit still. Shinigami often sneaks them and stores them in Yuma's room. She claims and explains this to Yuma that somehow she has to take care of your friendship when she has no way to show you.

Kurumi Wendy

To say that this girl is sweet is as huge an understatement as considering all creatures living in the ocean to be fish. Kurumi is a walking sugar-fueled machine. She could all meals, eat sweet. For her, buying instead of lunch, for example, a whole cake, a tart, or a box of doughnuts and eating them at lunch, is no problem or feat. Of course, out of respect for her health and her teeth, she tries to eat fairly normally, but her craving for sweet, makes it necessary for her to have something sweet to chew on after every meal. This has gone so far that Kurumi, when a sour apple hits her, she makes a grimace as if it were a revulsion. And when she only has snacks like chips and popcorn at home, she makes herself a chocolate dip to dip those chips in.

Aphex Logan

It is known that the boy reacts impulsively, and tries to distance people as much as possible. However, the detective remembers all the days he considers important and likes to return to those moments with his memories. No one knows, but Aphex used to buy a toy in the lottery machines on the day that was important to him. Whether he draws a figurine, a rubber ball, a bracelet doesn't matter to him, what matters is that he has something to remind him of that day. Each of these items has a special place in his room and he cares about them, more than anything. The day you called Aphex a friend was the day the boy won his most precious treasure. He won a cat key ring, which he wears always pinned to the pants of his detective outfit to keep it with him at all times.

Melami Goldmine

Melami, is a huge magnet for dogs. Melami is very careful about what clothes she wears, as well as their neatness, so it's obvious that she doesn't have a pet of any kind. However, despite this, Melami loves dogs, and with great reciprocity. The girl lives in a friendly neighborhood, and more than once it happened that a dog came up and started to cuddle. Of course, any four-legged dog in this situation, was thoroughly stroked by Melami and petted as " budgie". No matter where Melami is, in the city, in the park, or at the home of friends who have dogs, these just fetch. So it's no surprise, a situation in which Melami calls out to a dog, one of her neighbors, "Hey Budgie," then the dog will come running to her with six others.

Pucci Lavmin

By her forte, Pucci whether she wants to or not witnesses many conversations including not one street argument. Because of this, walking around town or riding public transportation is a real horror and anguish for her. She used to use soundproofing headphones, but she is not used to total silence, also felt bad. She needed to hear something in the background, so everywhere she goes, she carries her MP3 player with her headphones with her favorite playlists. It's been a nice escape from so many voices and silly conversations, and in order not to give up this convenience, she's also learned to lip-read and use sign language. This way she doesn't have to take off her headphones as she talks to someone, and also showing a few gestures is easier than saying a whole sentence.

Zilch Alexander

Everyone knows that Zilch loves nature and animals. This has caused him to acquire several animal traits, one of which is that Zilch outright loves it when you pet him on the head and under the chin. Whenever he feels your touch, he feels muted and relaxed, so much so that you can sometimes catch the boy purring quietly. Zilch is too proud to admit it, but he is very comfortable with this way of showing affection. He will never ask you directly, but when the detective sits down next to you and leans his head against your shoulder, it's a clear sign to you that he craves affection.

Zange Eraser

The nickname "Grandpa" has not stuck to him because of the large age gap between him and the other detectives in the group. Zange really is a grandfather to the rest of the detectives. The stories from Zange's life and his old investigations, you can all listen to for hours and for each at least 10 times. Zange is always ready to listen and comfort anyone who is sad, he even carries candy in his pocket for such circumstances. For that, the weekly tea with Zange is important to many in the agency, especially when it comes to you, Yume, Pucci, Zilcha and Fubuki, for you these teas are sacred. Despite the fact that Zange has never been in a long-term relationship and did not ultimately live to see children, this does not prevent him from showing pictures of you and the rest of the young detectives as his grandchildren when talking about grandchildren. The photos of you and the rest of the team even have a special place in his gallery.

Yakou Furio

He has lived in Kanai Ward since he was born, so it is obvious that he is familiar with all the rumors, legends and gossip circulating on the streets of the rainy city. One urban legend that stuck in his mind said that in underground paths and tunnels, people can dissolve without a trace. Yakou had never witnessed, such a situation, nor did he know anyone who had reported such a disappearance, or knew more about it. Nonetheless, ever since you arrived in Kanai Ward, whenever you go through sewers or other underground tunnels together, he intuitively grabs your hand or puts his arm around you. Sam is not sure whether to consider this a myth or take it completely seriously, but he doesn't want to risk losing you.

Halara Nightmare

Believe it or not, but Halara is the type of person who outright loves festivals. Of course, Halara's motivation isn't to have a good time, to have fun, or for the best street treats. Halara goes to festivals for nothing more than the games they can offer at the festival. Sugar cutouts, target shooting, fishing, prize drawings. In everything, Halara aims for the highest prize and wins it without much effort, as well as with complete grace. The best night to fish legitimately is a sin for Halara to skip this event. Of course, food, too, is provided, and it's completely free, because every time, in the spirit of competition, every competition between Halara and Deshuhiko, ended in a severe defeat for the boy, so that he had to fund food for himself, as well as for Halara.

Fubuki Clockford

To say that Fubuki has the memory of a goldfish would be a big insult to fish. Fubuki often gets names wrong, and she often forgets who she looks like. Because of this, every day, she comes up with nicknames for you. Once, when Fubuki came to the agency, she forgot your name, and since just at that moment, you were eating a puff, for the rest of the day she called you "Puff." And so she changed nicknames every day, as you were lying on the couch when she came in, you were "Sleepy Puff," as you changed a burned-out light bulb because Yakou got knocked out of his chair, you were "Radiant." Even when you remind a girl of your name, she prefers made up nicknames.

Deshuhiko Thunderbolt

Deshuhiko, is a favorite of any party. By this I mean events to celebrate a holiday or a specific day. If in his city, there will be such iventy events, Deshuhiko will be the one, the most charismatic and cheerful elf for Christmas, for St. Patrick's Day, he is the most cheerful and loud lepricon, for Halloween he will be the ghost with lots of fun and stories to tell. Deshuhiko enjoys a good pinyin and is so because of his energetic and flamboyant nature. He can effectively draw attention to himself and encourage those gathered to dance or participate in some games. It is also worth mentioning that he is also a favorite among children, as he always has candy and small gifts for the younger company, depending on the disguise he wears. For example, as an elf, he always has candy canes and fake elf ears for children to enter the ranks of Santa's helpers. As a leprikon, he always has chocolate coins in his pockets and stickers in the shape of a rainbow or clover, etc. Deshuhiko, too, knows many of the songs he teaches the children, so not only does everyone have a good time, but the children are curious, keep busy and parents don't have to worry about them. Of course, all the residents realized this when Deshuhiko was assigned to the affair that took place on Independence Day, they realized that without the energetic favorite, the whole event was not so enjoyable.

Vivia Twilight

Everyone knows about his tendency and strange predilection for sitting in dark, cramped or uncomfortable places. Just as the fireplace and the place under the piano used to be his favorite spots, so now, his favorite place, which he would most happily never leave, as if he didn't have to, is the bed after your dog. The boy often lies with his knees curled up, reading a book, because that's where he feels comfortable, and he spends more time with you. The longing for your four-legged friend has taken its toll on you more than you thought, making you long to have your old dog's bed by your side. Thus, seeing the deterioration of your condition Vivia immediately intervenes and tries to comfort you. An additional advantage for Vivia is that you sometimes start to stroke him on the head, as you used to stroke your dog. However, the detective is fine with this, because he likes any kind of attention you give him.

[timextoxhajima]

KISS & MAKE UP: PARK SUNGHOON

≛ an anthology series of break-up stories that end up in a one-night stand [only hyungline] -> HEESEUNG | JAY | SUNGHOON | JAKE

≛ genre: pretty explicit smut, angst

≛ warnings: alcohol, cursing,

≛ word count: 2.9k

≛ synopsis: it’s been a couple of months since you broke up with your high school sweetheart. the reason? he wanted a family and you wanted freedom. but come the day you meet him again and park sunghoon apparently hasn’t moved on. 

≛ taglist: @from-xero​​ @haechanhues​​ @abdiitcryy​​ @kyleeanne​​ @dontcallme20​​ @vantxx95​​ 

what a petty man, you think to yourself. you should’ve known you’d run into sunghoon - this was his territory. but bringing his personal feelings onto work grounds? 

unprofessional. 

“the labels?”

you frown at him. “what labels? i wasn’t told to label anything.”

a sharp glare. “the food? the condiments? the drinks?”

“you’re only telling me now, ten minutes prior to it starting?” you scoff and turn towards the storage. “i don’t even know if i have labels.”

sunghoon initially doesn’t follow, but you can hear his loud louboutins clacking against the floor as he hurries after you. “i find it hard to believe as an experienced event organiser, you had the brains to forget this. or rather, the lack thereof.”

ignoring him, you scour through your storage boxes. 

“great, now it’s gonna start without labels.”

“you have a strange obsession with labels,” the items in the box clunk against the sides as you shove them around like sand in a pit. “besides, if you’re running this event for the privileged, i’m almost positive they’d be clever enough to figure out... oh, i don’t know. a plate of chicken wings?” 

“but how will they know if it’s spicy or not?”

halting in your movements, you turn, still squatting, and glare upwards at him. he has his arms crossed over his chest, the curve of his tie winding outwards between the two sides of his blazer. there’s a little pinch of hair that’s sticking out from the rest of his head, and you’re just itching to cut it off. maybe stick it up his nose or something. 

“you did not just tell me to label hot wings.”

“i just did,” he clears his throat and finally relaxes his hand to point accusingly at you. “don’t mess tonight up. i don’t care what you do, don’t mess it up like you messed up everything else.”

the packet of labels in your hand falls back into the box when you stand, squinting at him in disbelief. 

“’everything else’? excuse you, it’s absolutely not my fault that we wanted different things. did you think you would still be happy if we stayed together despite knowing we wanted different things?” 

“i’d like to think we could’ve gotten through it together,” the vulnerability is nothing but a smear in his voice. this is what he likes to do - make you believe him for a moment, just long enough to win you over, before he goes back to his own beliefs. at first, you fell for it like a dog obsessed with his favourite chew toy, but at time went by, all you saw it as was manipulative. 

“don’t play that card again.”

“what card?” sunghoon frowns his dark brows together. 

“the ‘together’ card. i’m so sick of you talking about being together and getting through things together when it’s just you giving me the fucking problems and i pull you through them-”

“but isn’t being together the fucking definition of a relationship? you called it quits just because we were on different roads-”

“i called it quits because we were on different roads. you wanted a home and a family and have a dainty wife at home cooking all your stupid meals because you don’t bother how to learn to pick up a knife- but does it look like i wanna do that?”

“what’s so bad about having a home and a family, huh? is it my fault that i wanted to spend the rest of my life with you and i was just obsessed with the thought of having you to myself forever?”

“oh, my god. even now... you don’t care about how i feel and what i want. you only think about how prestigious and how privileged i should be that you’re in love with me and that’s all that matters to you. the value of you to other people, and never the other way round.”

sunghoon doesn’t scare you. at some point, you loved him. he may have been spiteful and manipulative with his words but he always had good intentions, though it may have been for his own benefit. you would never know. 

it was difficult to come to terms with how bitter the relationship had gotten. nearing the end of it, you were hoping he’d be able to find the strength in him to agree to an amicable break-up. but sunghoon is a raging eternal fire stuck in ice buried deep underground, and so initiating the break-up was as good as shoving a bomb down under. 

‘amicable’ was an antonym. 

“what do you want me to say?” he looks down at you, brown eyes staring into your soul. he doesn’t cry easily, but here he is, tearing up. 

are those crocodile tears?

“i wanted a fairytale and you wanted a reality. i don’t know how to tell you that i don’t think either of those was wrong. i just thought we could come to a compromise.”

“compromise? what compromise would it be had i done what you wanted? then i’ll be living your dream, not mine.”

“and what exactly is your dream? you’ve been working so hard and yet you’re still here! you may think it’s noble of yourself that you’re putting this amount of effort and that it’ll reap some kind of harvest at the end but i was watching you work your life and time away. all i wanted to do was let you rest and relax at home at your own comfort. was that so wrong?”

“where is park sunghoon?”

the voice from outside is a relieving break from the confrontation. it worked for you, because you had no rebuttal. 

sunghoon sighs and looks down at his feet, then he looks up to the ceiling and sucks in a deep breath, finally using his fingers to push the pinch of hair on his forehead back into the rest of his dark brown locks. he rubs his eyes, getting rid of his tears. 

he clears his throat and pats down his blazer before squatting to reach behind you for the labels. he turns without a word, leaving you to look at the surrounding floor. 

but he stops at the door for a moment, then turns. 

“you think i’m not good for you because i stop you from living your life the way you want to. but it frustrates me to see you run around in circles with yourself. all i wanted to do was come home to you, stress-free and happy. but if you’d rather spend your time chasing after your own tail, then be my guest.”

he swallows, his adam’s apple shifting up and down. the door clicks open and he leaves the storage. 

“oh, there you are! god, we were looking all over for you and the event organiser. do you happen to have any kind of labelling or signages for the food? i have guests that can’t have hot wings.”

“was just looking for them.”

the footsteps fade away. the conversation gets further. the storage light flickers off due to the lack of movement.

the evening runs in slow motion. sunghoon had all the food and drinks labelled just as the doors to the event opened, and somehow used it as a conversation starter for everybody greeting him at the table. something about how he tried to snag one or two wings before it started and instantly regretted it because they were spicy.

as someone who didn’t particularly love spicy foods, sunghoon had developed a keen instinct to telling whether something was spicy. 

but occasionally, you’d sneak a peek at sunghoon, hard at work and immersed in the conversation he probably initiated. it never failed to wonder you how the introvert in him is able to hold professional conversations. 

there are few regrets in the world you would admit to having. one of them was falling out with him. 

the happier you were, the more upsetting the break-up was. sunghoon loved sneaking into your room and spending the night, but that made it all the more harder when you spent them alone thereafter. he had a knack for picking you little flowers off the road, wrapping them in napkins and leaving them at your window, but they began rotting away and flying off in the wind like ash from your ended love. 

sunghoon isn’t a man of many words - words that make sense at least - but it’s in his ache and heart break that he means every syllable he articulates. 

it’s annoying that they make sense. 

by the end of the night, you realised that sunghoon had saved you from ruining the event - half the hot wings were left untouched because they were too hot for the public. they were samyang flavoured. 

once the event had ended, sunghoon spent most of his time at the doors, seeing his guests off and making sure everyone got into their respective vehicles. you are left with the mess in the storage, that you begin to pack, worried about how you would respond when he comes in to tell you “i told you so”.

“thirty minutes,” he calls out from the outside. you assume he was talking to the person in charge of locking up the space. “thanks.”

mindlessly dumping what was left into the storage boxes, you try to lift it onto the trolley you have parked in the room. you use your thighs, but the edge of the box is heavy and it seeps into your flesh, leaving a mark. then the weight causes it to slide off and just before everything can spill out-

“what the hell-” sunghoon quite literally steps over the boxes and into a space in between - the ends of his pants rolled up thanks to the other boxes in the room - one hand gripping the edge of the box and the other holding the trolley still. “are you-”

his eyes automatically look down where the box had been resting on, and he notices the little rip in your nylon pants where the box had been resting on. with a gentle tut of his teeth, he snatches the box from you and rests it atop the others, a frown on his head. 

“you’re a fucking idiot, you know?” he grabs your arm and pulls you out of the mess. 

“i was just finishing up-” trying to move back in to take responsibility of your logistics, you take a step forward. 

“you. stay. right the fuck. there,” he says, jabbing the air with every word. he rests his arm by his side, frame awkwardly slanted over the mess on the floor. his blazer hangs by his side, the tip of the expensive material kissing the roll of mahjong paper sticking out from one of the boxes. he sighs, and purses his lips, turning around and squatting to repack the boxes. 

“i... come on. just leave it. i can do it.”

“stop trying to think you can do everything,” he rebutts, turning to look at you from his squatting position. with a gentle huff, he lifts the box infront of him and dumps it on the trolley. “if you were superman, you would’ve figured it out earlier.”

“okay, well... i get it, alright? you don’t... you don’t have to keep rubbing it in.”

“i’ll rub it in because i can and because you don’t listen,” he finishes with another box and stacks it. sunghoon stands, taking in a deep breath and combs his hair with his fingers.  

the strands of your fringe come loose from the rest of your hair, but your eyes travel down to the floor. there’s an issue of pride that you can’t overcome, but your heart drops and you forget about it when sunghoon reaches out to tuck your hair behind your ear. 

your fringe falls back into your eyes, so he pushes it up, and keeps his finger there as he looks down at you with a gentle frown on his forehead. 

before you can say anything, he leans forward. with the other palm, hot and slightly sweaty from all the lifting he’s been doing, he presses his lips into yours. 

by instinct, your eyes close. the scent of his cologne is worn, but still identiable. your hair falls back onto your lids when he releases it to cup your other cheek, and the memories of him flood back into your heart. all the nights of playful bickering about what movie to watch, all the late night strolls in the park and the skating rink dates he would drag you on just because he wanted to let you into his world. 

you had forgotten what it was like to feel special, to be the only person that sunghoon had been able and willing to open up his heart to. knowing that he still loved you made you feel like you were still special. 

your hands find the collar of his blazer, gently pushing him away. through pursed lips, you look at him with tired eyes. “hoon, i don’t think this is healthy.”

he’s quiet, refusing to remove his hands from your face. he remains his position, even after you reach up in a bid to pull his hands away from your cheeks.

“not everything anybody does in their life is healthy,” he presses his forehead unto yours. “i’d love an unhealthy love with you even if it means we’d fight and cry about it. this... cannot be replaced. not by anybody. you are my unhealthy love, and that is what i want.”

your heart is racing. you can hear the beating in your ears, and if he wasn’t holding you, you might’ve started shaking. 

but he leans down and kisses you again, this time begging you to remember everything that you once had with him, convincing you that it wasn’t worth giving up. 

it’s so much easier to know that you’d crying in his arms after a fight, than worrying about forgetting him. 

sunghoon gently pushes you back until your rear hits a countertop, and he blindly pushes whatever was on it aside. lifting you by your thighs, he places you on the surface and runs his fingers down the length of your arm. your skin tickles under his nails and his cold fingertips, which stop at your hands. he interlocks his hands with yours at the edge of the counter, then he stops and pulls away, slowly tilting his head upwards to kiss your forehead. 

his thumb and index finger are on your chin now, gently pushing you back so you were laying down. 

“wait, isn’t there a camera here or something-”

“you forget i know the people who own this building,” he raises his brows and moves backwards to kneel. then, his lips are on your ankles, undoing the straps of your heels. hold palms move up your calf and under your knees after your shoes come off, and he stands to undo the buckle on your pants. 

he helps you lift your hips, the silk sliding off your skin and to the floor with ease. sunghoon kneels again, kissing the inner side of your knees and thighs and then your hip bones, your fingers finding the crown of his head and making a mess of his waxed hair. 

your head tilts back when the final piece of clothing in his way comes off, and the heat from his skin hits where you’ve missed him. guiding your legs to rest on his shoulders, he has you like you had been in a long-distance relationship.

your toes curl, heart thunking in your chest and fingers gripping his hair tighter and tighter. 

then he stops, licking and biting his lips to get the rest of it off. you sigh, relieved from the sudden affection he’s providing you. you look down and watch him undo his belt, but he doesn’t bother to remove it, simply unbuttoning himself and pulling the zipper down. 

then he gently pulls you towards him, and it’s a moment of truth as you lock eyes with him. 

he waits for you to protest.

but you don’t. 

so he eases himself to your comfort, and your lips fall apart like your hair on the counter top as you lay back again. there’s a gentle frown in your forehead that he kisses away, his breath heavy in your hair as he gives you a few seconds. 

so, like the good ol’ times, he stands upright and starts to move, sounds and movements still tamed. but blame it on the yearning, blame it on the unhealthy need for him and the feelings he provides that cannot be replaced - it doesn’t take long for him to find where it makes your mind turn to static. 

“finish for me, princess,” he presses down with his thumb. 

and like a well-behaved one, you do. he pulls out once you’re finished, and he releases himself on your thighs. 

sunghoon is slightly panting, but he eases his breathing with a deep breath. turning around to your logistic boxes, he pulls out a packet of wet wipes. 

“are you sure i don’t have to worry about the cctv in here?” your fingers press into your temples. 

sunghoon chuckles, helping you sit up. “the only thing you need to worry about now is how you’re going to tolerate me for the rest of your life.”

[twsthoodstar]

Twst x Pokémon Pt. 3

This is a part 3 of the last Pokémon post I did, this time with the vice dorm leaders. Sorry this is so late, I’ve been feeling under the weather recently 😓 But I’m starting to feel better now.

Request/idea received from this Anon

Babysitting their crush’s Pokémon while they’re away. However, that task has proven more difficult than expected.

Trey Clover ♣️

Trey was both delighted and nervous when you asked him to babysit Slurpuff. He had only hoped it wouldn’t be as troublesome as certain glutinous monster cat, although he had to admit he was curious. Slurpuff looked so soft and squishy! It couldn’t be that much of a handful could it?

Well needless to say, Slurpuff was actually very helpful in the kitchen. It’s unique sense of smell helped pick the best ingredients and it was more than happy to aid in assembling the treats for the Unbirthday Party, nudging Trey to taste the batter. It reminded Trey of his little siblings back home, how they’d always try and sneak a piece.

However, it all went downhill once the part started. One by one everyone’s cakes and cookies disappeared without a trace. Unaware of the pink Pokémon sneakily using Physic to float the wonderful pastries into its mouth. But it’s cover was blown when it tried to steal Riddle’s tart, and Trey had to step in before the poor little thing lost its head.

Ruggie Bucchi 🐾

Better hope Ruggie doesn’t eat your precious little bundle of wool, might be hard to hold himself back. Shi shi shi, he’s only kidding! He wouldn’t do that to you! Unfortunately, Wooloo seemed to take that very personally and rolled away! It hadn’t even been 5 minutes and Ruggie was already chasing it down!

Poor Wooloo; perhaps leaving it in a dorm full of hungry carnivores wasn’t the greatest idea. Because it zoomed all over the place, trying to flee from any large beastmen. Though I’m sure it looked hilarious seeing the vice dorm leader chasing after a living pillow. Ruggie eventually needed Jack’s help in catching the little guy, and it surprisingly took a liking to the first year!

Wooloo was all over Jack, hiding behind his legs and nuzzling into his bushy tail. Peering at Ruggie with big nervous eyes. He hadn’t planned for this, Ruggie wanted to show you just how responsible he was all on his own, that included caring for your pet. But it couldn’t be helped. Jack hadn’t planned to babysit, but it seemed he had no other choice.

Jade Leech 🐬

(I love Psyduck so much 🥰)

Now Psyduck here is a bit of a special case, so you were a bit hesitant to leave it with Jade. Now there was nothing to worry about, Jade makes sure your Psyduck is well taken care of, he’ll pamper it to perfection. He has claimed he enjoys serving others. Although it appears Psyduck is a rather sensitive creature. But that just makes things more interesting, plus it’s adorable to boot.

Constantly rubbing it’s head, it takes in its surroundings rather slowly. It barely realized you left the room and was just recently waddling around looking for you, poor dear. 😅 Well this shouldn’t be a problem; playtime with rubber duckies, drawing a bath, Jade makes sure Psyduck is in top shape until you get back! However, there was one mishap Jade wasn’t preparing for.

It takes special skill to escape Jade’s well trained eye, and Psyduck just happened to find that perfect moment. Before it knocked into Jade’s terrarium, spilling out all kinds of plants and muck onto the floor with a big bump on its head. It was an accident, but Psyduck couldn’t shake that sudden glare in the eel’s eye. Not even when Jade rubbed its bruised head affectionately.

Floyd Leech 🦈

Oh boy, Gible was not happy about you leaving. Especially leaving its care to a stranger like Floyd. It stomped around and grumbled like a fussy toddler, aggressive to anyone that came near it. While everyone was afraid of getting their hand chewed off, Floyd remained as careless and as brave as ever. So Shrimpy left this little sharkie to be his playmate? How fun!

Gible did not want to play with Floyd, it tried making that as clear as possible. Playing basketball? Deflated. Some squeaky toys? Shredded to pieces. Dancing? It chomped the radio to bits. A yummy platter? Scarfed it down, plate and all. Floyd was clearly losing his patience and started to shift into one of his outrageously random mood swings.

Talk about bad timing when you have an angry Gible pouting across the room. Floyd, now upset the Pokémon wasn’t accepting his friendship, made the mistake of trying to squeeze it. Gible bit him 😬. Chomped right down on his hand, but suprisingly Floyd was fine. It did take Azul and Jade awhile to pry it off, then to keep Floyd from biting back! Hopefully, you’ll return soon before the Lounge ends up in shambles.

Jamil Viper 🐍

Honestly Jamil thinks your Salandit is super cool. Sly and cunning with a streak of mystery, it reminds him of himself. (You smug snake 😑) It was almost the perfect pet for himself, a powerful on way that. Now I’m sure Jamil has some experience with animals, he is Kalim’s right hand man and a servant of the Asim family, the kid knows a thing or two about parades.

So it’s a cake walk babysitting Salandit, at least for the most part. Pokémon are unpredictable creatures and unknown to Twisted Wonderland, so Jamil’s in for a big surprise when Salandit starts dripping actual v e n o m. The red liquid oozes out of its mouth as it starts to burn small holes in the carpet. Of course panics because, that carpet is expensive! And why did you have such a creature in your possession!

He was not prepared for this. Apparently it was having a scuffle with Kalim’s magic carpet, the piece of matting simply wanted to play with Scarabia’s new guest, but the poisonous fire-type took it as a threat instead. Chasing each other around like wild dogs. Reacting quickly, Jamil put it outside using Snake Whisper before things escalated, but decided to give you a call.

Rook Hunt 🏹

You thought Jade was pampering, Rook is over the moon for this fairy type! What a wonderful creature, absolutely beautiful! Rook is completely captivated by the fairy-like creature, the pure pink essence of love in its true form!~ ✨ As he puts it anyways. 😅 Rook will smother Sylveon with attention!

He’ll groom it to perfection and flaunt it to the entire dorm, this of course draws some attention. No one has ever seen a creature quite like Sylveon, with its sweet voice and flowing ribbons. And you left Rook himself in charge to take care of it isn’t that wonderful! ~ ✨ This basically turned into one big photo shoot, with Rook at the center gushing over his new friend.

He even takes Sylveon out on a hunt stroll with him. Man cries when it wraps it’s ribbons around it’s wrist. Let’s just hope no rowdy students make fun of their little adventure, they’ll have a merciless arrow drawn back ready to face them. Rook won’t tolerate gossiping, no one is allowed to tarnish the beauty you and your partner share together.

Ortho Shroud 🤖

Ortho was more than happy to take care of Pikachu for you! He was the one that actually accepted in the first place. It was just so cute and round and soft and friendly, a perfect companion for our little Ortho! Plus, he was really excited to analyze it for his database. Although, in reality he took this opportunity to get Idia out of his shell and help him.

Humans and animals were already a well known subject Ortho knew plenty about, even a few beasts were a well known species. So a loveable Pokémon shouldn’t serve a problem. While Idia wasn’t all that excited about watching a living, breathing, messy pet (virtual pets were much easier) Ortho was not having it and saw this as a good experience.

Playtime was his favorite, Pikachu was just so fast and full of energy. Zipping back and forth with a Quick Attack to chase the bouncy ball, or using its tail to play catch. It was such a cheerful little sunshine, it even shocked Ortho a bit with its cheeks. Emitting little sparks of electricity, which felt really nice. They’re both just so cute together, Idia snuck a few pictures of them napping together.

Lilia Vanrouge 🍷

Another child for Lilia to adopt!! Oh how precious! Immediately Lilia’s fawning over your cute Noibat, however, you tell Lilia to be careful as this Pokémon is quite young. Of course Lilia heads your warning and bids you a graceful farewell, before rushing off with the cutie in his arms to flaunt to his whole dorm.

Almost immediately Lilia’s going to test his cooking skills; a growing boy like that needs to eat right? Well don’t worry, chef Lilia will whip up something nice, which of course has Noibat cheering for a hot meal. The trio of terrified fae and their drowsy human: they couldn’t have Lilia kill off something so precious, you’d be heartbroken!

However, perhaps they were a bit too slow in stopping Lilia, because thanks to his magic he had already whipped up a horrendous looking hole of soup. But what had everyone’s jaws dropping was that Noibat enjoyed it! It even cooed for seconds, nudging Lilia with the bowl. Of course Lilia was over the moon, he’ll have to ask to babysit more often.

[ackerfics]

the parent trap — levi ackerman (iv)

— levi ackerman x female reader (modern au | the parent trap au)

— warnings: angst??? and feels, i think

— summary: after assuming that everything was starting to shift further away from the plan, the people in the ackerman estate found out the identity of the boy mirroring the twin they know so well.

— word count: 8.6k (i know, i had to do it bc it's been so long)

— author's notes: finally, after weeks of not touching this series, i finally updated it. this part is centered around the reveal in levi's side of things. to those who watched the movie, you know things will go down from here. happy reading everyone !!

part one | part two | part three | masterlist

The news that was dropped on Altair last night stole away every ounce of sleep from him.

At first, he felt like everything collapsed on his shoulders. His mum is getting married? In what universe? There wasn’t even a decent man in a five-meter radius around his mother, well, except for her employees at the bridal shop. Nonetheless, all of the men trying to court her were turned down in an instant but why was she getting married to an idiot when he was away from home? The number of times he ran his hand through his hair and wishing everything was perfect can’t be counted on his fingers. First, it was that Cindy woman and now, an unknown man wooing you with serenades and God knows what in London has added himself in the list of pesky outliers. There shouldn’t be outliers in the first place. Throughout the night, Altair made his mind busy by making adjustments in their plan, eyes fixed on the ceiling in concentration.

The next thing he knew, daybreak dripped on his eyelids, peeking through the spaces between his curtains. Altair sat up on his bed and rubbed his eyes free of sleep crust before turning to his alarm clock on the nightstand. A red 9:34 glared at him, telling him he overslept. The boy huffed and plopped himself back on the plush mattress, his pillows swallowing him whole as he tried to give himself more hours of sleep. His five-minute doze was interrupted with a knock on his door. It took everything in him not to shout ‘five more minutes' so he decided to might as well wake himself up by walking to the door and answering the person on the other side.

Petra’s face beamed at him and Altair had to narrow his eyes because Petra’s smile was too bright for his own good. It was like looking too long at the sunrise.

“Good morning, Al!” the redhead greeted him.

“Morning, Petra,” Altair replied, rubbing his eyes again. “I’m sorry I overslept.”

Petra waved him off. “It’s fine. I expected it yesterday since you just came home from camp. You must be so tired. Why don’t you go take a bath and change and come downstairs for some breakfast? I’m sure this will wake you up — I cooked your favorites.” The boy nodded at her suggestion. She tried teasing him by calling his name again, Altair turning around to acknowledge his nanny with a raised eyebrow. “You know, I’d probably oversleep, too, if I were up in the middle of the night making mysterious phone calls from my bathroom. It’s pretty quiet in here at midnight so I think that pretty much exposed you.”

Altair froze at Petra’s inquiring tone, blinking his speechlessness. In an instant, he doesn’t feel sleepy anymore. He scratched his undercut. “Uhm, it was a friend from camp. He just wanted to talk to me, that’s all.”

The redhead hummed as she crossed her arms. “Ooh-kay. Well, your breakfast will be waiting on the kitchen counter!” She shouted while making her way downstairs.

“Okay!” Altair yelled back.

He opened his closet and took out a blue flannel, a white undershirt, and a pair of jeans. Without wasting any more time, Altair got himself ready by taking a bath just as Petra suggested and made himself presentable once he reached the kitchen. His hair was still wet, a towel wrapped around his shoulders when he inhaled the savory smell of breakfast on the first floor. As Altair sat on the high counter stool, Petra turned around from cutting up fruits and placed too many plates in front of the boy with a smile. He couldn’t control the twitch in his eyebrows as he stared at his breakfast. Is his twin really eating this much food every morning? He realized he might be coming off as rude since he was only staring at the number of bacon slices on his plate so Altair took a bite of bacon and let the sound of knives against the cutting board flit through his ears.

“Petra?”

“Hmm?”

“Can I have a cup of rose tea?”

Petra stopped cutting the mangos and stared at Altair, who was immersed in doing small bites of his breakfast. The redhead stared for a moment and assessed the way Altair picked up his fork and knife — it was the same way a certain someone did back in college when Levi’s friend group and lover ate meals together. Now that Petra remembered it; when you gave birth to the twins, she mentioned how one of them inherited the shape of your eyes. It could be a trick of the light but Altair’s eyes were softer in the edges instead of the sharpness Levi adorned, the boy’s eyelashes slightly fuller than usual.

“Petra?”

The said woman jumped at the mention of her name, with Altair’s face scrunched up in worry at her lack of response. She cleared her throat while transferring the mangos in a small bowl, sliding it towards Altair. “Yeah?”

The silver-eyed boy rose an eyebrow. “Are you alright? You look like you were in a trance there.”

“I’m fine.” Petra washed her hands before wiping them dry with a clean towel. Her gaze went from the boy’s expectant stare to his unfinished breakfast. This was weird. Altair usually never leaves any leftovers on his plate, it was what Levi taught him since he could eat on his own. Pushing this matter at the back of her mind, she smiled. “You’re not going to finish that, Al?”

Altair looked down on his half-eaten scrambled eggs, bacon slices, and still full pasta salad. He only had a couple of bites from the last dish and wished he could eat more but the two slices of bacon and scrambled eggs made him full in an instant. His stomach couldn’t handle too much in an early hour. He needed the tea to wash all this down. “No, I’m not, I think I’m full,” he answered, patting his stomach with a grin. He hoped Petra wouldn’t notice that his appetite wasn’t like his twin. That idiot (his twin, never Petra) appeared small like him but the buffoon has a vacuum inside his torso, always hungry at the wee hours of the day. If this was roast beef, this was a different story. “Must be because I’m tired from the trip. I don’t feel like eating and moving around too much.”

Petra nodded in understanding, preparing the rose tea the boy requested. She was waiting for the water to boil as she glanced at Levi’s pride and joy. “So why rose tea?”

“Pardon?”

Pardon? With a suppressed chuckle, Petra turned around with an incredulous expression on her face. “Camp made you prim and proper, huh? So why rose tea, champ?”

“Because I thought it would be nice to try the flower teas instead of the fruit-flavored ones this time. I know Dad has been experimenting with flowers for the next blends.”

Petra hummed, letting the tea steep for a few minutes. The scent of roses immediately wafted across the kitchen, making the two sigh in contentment. Petra wasn’t one for tea but smelling the pink drink made her want to try one. She presented the cup of rose tea to the black-haired boy, who was leaning forward to finally have his drink, his silver eyes sparkling at the small petals floating on top of his tea. Petra knew she was watching Altair closely but all her doubts flew out the window when she witnessed the boy hold the teacup the same way Levi does. Maybe she was looking into this too much. She shook her head and took away the leftovers, placing them in containers.

She missed the way Altair blew out a sigh of relief, a small half-smile tugging on the corner of his lips.

Altair stood up from his seat, patting his lap from imaginary dust and placing the towel from his shoulders to the back of the counter stool. He took a long sip of his tea before grinning widely at his nanny. “Thank you so much for breakfast, Petra!”

“No problem, kiddo. Oh, and your Dad wants to talk to you about something. He’s in his office.”

“Okay!”

The black-haired boy walked past the archway leading to the living room, where the glass double doors to the patio were located. Snuggling on the floor and chewing on his toy was Levi’s golden retriever, Captain. Altair flinched when he saw the dog shift their head in his direction. A series of barks came out of the pet, making the boy hurry for the handles of the double doors. His heart was pounding when he couldn’t get the doors to open, pulling on them as Captain was now standing up to give him another round of barks. It caught the attention of Petra and the woman instantly shot to the living room but not before shouting something that made Altair’s ears turn red of embarrassment.

“Push, Al.” Petra was now wrapping her arms around the dog, eyebrows furrowed with confusion.

Altair stopped for a moment, twisting the handles of the double doors and pushing them just as Petra said. He turned around with a sheepish smile, chuckling nervously because this mistake might have lost him the plan. “Must have slipped my mind.” He had never gotten out of a house that quickly in his entire life.

Only when he stepped foot on the patio that he could breathe normally. Altair kicked a pebble on the pathway, hands snug inside his pockets, as he thought about what his father will tell him. He followed the pathway until he was met with a slope, a building looking the main estate was sitting on top of the small hill overlooking the plantation. With a bundle of nerves swirling in his stomach, Altair took a deep breath and trekked the hill. The higher he got, hectares of a variety of tea trees greeted his vision, mimicking the sea with its vastness. It was the first time he saw something so wide and before he knew it, questions started entering his mind.

If the Ackerman family held so much money, why did his grandparents make his mum go back to London? Why did they take away the only person who made her feel loved in every sort of way possible? She could’ve been happy here. Everything is so soothing and secure.

The sound of people talking snapped him back to reality. Altair shook his head and continued his small walk towards the building. It looked like there was more activity in here than he imagined. People were sorting out the tea leaves they harvested and others were manning a machine meant for grounding the leaves. It was so busy that he didn’t realize he stopped in front of the huge window showing all of the employees trying to keep Levi’s business booming.

A person rounding the building noticed his gawking and smiled a little. They clutched the flowers they picked for the new blends Levi was experimenting on and went to the black-haired boy. “Al, welcome home. I’m sorry I couldn’t be here yesterday to welcome you back.”

The silver-eyed boy turned around to the young woman sharing his features — the same jet-black hair, pale complexion, and shade of silver for the eyes (though hers were more on the bluish side of the spectrum). He tried recalling the family members his brother told him to remember. There was a woman with the same appearance in one of the pictures. She was hugging the Altair she knows, their smiles shining through the piece of shiny paper. She was the older cousin his twin was telling so many stories about since she was the only one closer to his age around the household. The Altair standing in front of her right now smiled, muttering her name, “Mikasa.”

Mikasa returned the smile with her own, sitting on her heels to meet the boy’s eyes. “How was camp?”

“My opponent in a fencing competition pushed me in the washing area of our pavilion.”

Mikasa winced, ruffling the boy’s hair gently. “Why did they do that?”

Altair shrugged, feeling proud of himself for doing that to his twin despite being guilty to this day. “Guess he was better than me at fencing. He has a teacher specifically for that sport back in their hometown.”

“Oh, wow. If you want someone to practice fencing with, I’ll gladly help you.” The young woman tilted her head with a smile. “That is if you want to go back to that camp next summer. I’ll even learn the rules for you.”

The older of the two had so many records in her portfolio. Altair recalled that his brother was gushing about how Mikasa was a part of the track and field team the entirety of her stay in college. She was also a part of a volleyball club when she was in high school. This young woman has everything in her belt and it would be so good if Altair practiced fencing with her. However, he also realized that Mikasa probably had her hands full with academic and familial responsibilities. “But you have your final year in college, though, and you’re so busy in the plantation.”

Mikasa once again tousled Altair’s hair, chuckling under her breath. “Anything for my baby cousin so don’t worry about it.” She looked down at the pile of flowers in her arms. She handed a single red lily flower to Altair. “Here, to brighten up your day.” Mikasa stood up and waved at Altair. “I’m testing these flowers out with some berries, kiddo. I’ll be in the kitchen by the sorting room with Annie. If we can get the right combination, we’ll let you try some. Your dad is in his office waiting for you.” With that, Mikasa turned around but not before ruffling Altair’s hair again.

Altair nodded at nobody in particular and entered the building with a slight skip in his steps. The office was situated on the second floor of the manor-like establishment. The color palette of red and olive green was still observed in the interior but the large, open balcony let in enough light to illuminate the second floor. There was a railing surrounding the middle space of the entire floor, perfect for looking down and observing the bustling life inside the house. Altair’s destination, however, was the door to the left side of the second floor down a painting-covered hallway. He tentatively knocked on the door with his father’s name pinned on it. Altair faintly heard someone call inside the room and opened the door to peek his head in.

Levi was behind his desk, phone close to his ear. “Yes, Erwin. I thought you will be visiting because of Altair today. I see. No problem. You can visit the plantation anytime.” He glanced at the opened door, seeing Altair meekly staring at him. He smiled a little before telling Erwin, “Al’s here. Yeah. The stocks are fine and the new blends are coming out great. Sure, I’ll send you some. Bye.” The silver-eyed man sighed as he placed his phone on the desk. “You can come in, Al. Usually, you just barge in here and wait for me on the couch.” Levi hummed, eyes softening at the sight of his son grinning in front of him.

Altair chuckled, scratching the back of his head. “I thought it was an important call.”

“It was just Eyebrows.”

“Whatever you say, Dad.”

The boy sat on the couch, eyes inconspicuously roaming around the office. He heard the sound of a chair scraping against the floor and Altair looked up to find his dad preparing a cup of tea in the kitchenette installed in the room. He looked away from Levi and shifted his attention to the framed photographs on the desk. Everything wasn’t facing him but there was one frame positioned to face the person behind the desk. Altair craned his neck to get a glimpse of the picture, his eyes going back and forth between the frame and his dad, who was waiting for the tea to steep. With his body draping over the couch and neck stretching as far as he could (the position was starting to hurt), Altair saw that it was a picture of you, his mum. The silver-eyed boy gasped because it was you in a wedding dress.

“Blimey.”

“Al?”

Altair dropped the position with a huff. He straightened himself to face a confused Levi, a tray of two teacups filled with raspberry tea held by his hands. “Thought I could just, you know,” he nervously chuckled, “get a good stretch after oversleeping. So what’s up, Dad?”

Levi hummed, placing the tray on the low table. He sat beside Altair, body facing the little boy as he surveyed the innocent smile plastered on his son as he sipped on his cup of tea, the two of them mirroring how they held their cups. Maybe it was because Al went away for summer camp in the last eight weeks or maybe he was just missing you and your presence in his life, but Levi felt his heart clench at how fast his little boy was growing. The summer camp must be a blessing in disguise because his boy came home with newfound manners and the whole time he was away, he thought hard enough to make a decision he won’t come to regret. Eight weeks was a long time, things are bound to change. So Levi cleared his throat and readied himself in spilling his carefully thought-out plans to his son.

“There’s something really important I want to talk to you about, Al,” Levi started, putting this teacup back on the low table.

“That’s funny because there’s something really important that I want to talk to you about.”

“Yeah? Well, you go first, kiddo.”

Altair shook his head rapidly, gulping down his tea first. “No, you first, Dad.”

“Hmm.” The black-haired man carefully formulated the words in his mind. The first order of business was to cut off any people who would dare hurt his son. Yesterday was just the catalyst in his ongoing debate with Petra all summer to get rid of the publicist leeching off of him. From the look on Altair’s face while he was wading in the pool, Levi figured that Cynthia said something to him that might have shaken his mind. He leveled his gaze with Altair’s and told him, “Okay, I want to talk to you about Cynthia, the hired publicist for the teahouse and plantation.”

The boy turned his body so that he was seeing his father eye to eye. “And I wanted to talk to you about Mom.” Altair furrowed his eyebrows in distaste. “Oh, so Cynthia’s her name. What about Cynthia?”

Levi blinked in surprise. He knew Altair was a smart kid but he didn’t expect him to pick up on things so fast. There was no one in the estate that he shared his current sentiments. Petra was known to be a person not careful enough to keep a secret hidden from Altair and Erwin will most likely tease Levi throughout the day if he revealed his plans. Not to mention that Mikasa will probably indulge his kid in spilling every embarrassing thing about him so that makes his niece out of the list of people worthy enough to be told a secret.

With a calm voice, he regarded his little him with a flat expression. “What about your mom?”

Altair groaned in exasperation. “Dad, I’m almost twelve. I’m at a point in my life to ask about the whereabouts of my mom. You can’t expect me to believe the stork story all my life!”

A slow inhale and a look at the ceiling was all Levi needed to compose himself. “You know what, that is a story for later. But first, we’re going to talk about the publicist. Did she say anything to you? Anything that might have hurt you in any way yesterday?”

One pair of gray eyes looked away from the other to examine the invisible dust gathering on top of the coffee table. Altair wanted to tell Levi that Cynthia was trying to exploit him, trying to wound him in her trap and to make him fall in love with her. But the way that his father was insisting on the topic of Cynthia instead of you didn’t sit right with him at all. To Altair, it looked like Levi was desperate to clean the woman’s name and to make him build a relationship with her when the time comes that she’ll be carrying the Ackerman name. He mentally apologized to his other half across the ocean for not having the strength to continue the plan. Because as he glanced at Levi, the man’s concern apparent on the glint of his eyes, Altair wanted his father to be happy — to love someone without any pain that spanned for more than a decade.

“No, she didn’t say anything to me. She just told me how happy she is to be on the plantation.”

As much as he was scared to be a father when his boys were born, Levi always knew if his son was lying after years of raising Altair alone (with the help of Petra but the nanny will always give him the credit). Right now, however, he couldn’t tell if Al was lying or not. “Al, are you telling me the truth? If not—“

The door burst open, bringing with it an overly dramatic woman. “Levi? Are you here, sweetie?”

Eld followed after Cynthia, his face betraying his aggravation at the woman. “Don’t just enter Levi’s office without permission, Ma’am!”

Cynthia scoffed, insulted at the term. “'Ma’am’?! I’m not that old, employee.”

The blonde man bristled. He tried puffing his chest to remind the publicist that he has more authority than just a last-minute accommodation in the staff, but he stopped when he saw Levi starting to stand up from the couch. He had never seen his boss express anger in his years of being Levi’s secretary, however, the apparent look on the onyx-haired man will probably drive Cynthia more than six feet under the surface. Eld dismissed Cynthia with a roll of his eyes, focusing on the annoyed man walking towards them with terrifying footsteps. “Levi, she just went inside the building. Believe me, we were trying to prevent her from getting her head cut off by you but she wouldn’t listen!” The blonde glared at the woman who was gasping dramatically, manicured hand pressed on her chest. “Levi, you have to believe me. Mikasa even had to—“

“I understand, Eld.” Levi’s voice was uncharacteristically icy. Sure, he was known for being blunt and dismissive at times but that was the man's nature in forming social relationships. The employees were used to him being that way. Right now, though, his glare could have frozen Cynthia in place. “What is this, Miss Maryland? I thought I told you to leave a message to my secretary if you want to have an appointment with me. But I remember telling you that I’m not free this day.”

Cynthia pouted. “But I also told you that I wanted to have lunch with you! Is your job more important than me? Or are you just using that as an excuse to not make time for me?”

Eld looked scandalized at the woman’s reaction while Altair was wincing at the sound of Cynthia’s whine.

Levi was praying for his ears as well, pinching the bridge of his nose to calm himself down. He looked at Altair at the corners of his eyes. “I don’t recall you being on my priority list, Miss Maryland, and I have plans with Al today anyway. Horseback riding.”

“You’re lying!” The woman turned to Altair. “Is this true, Al, darling?”

The boy quickly took note of the hint of desperation from his father’s eyes so he smiled. “Yeah, I’ll be riding Nox since I miss my horse while I was at camp.”

“You heard my kid,” Levi drawled. “Now get out. You’re invading my privacy — sounds fitting for your job.”

Cynthia’s face scrunched in disgust, turning around abruptly, her hair hitting Eld in the face. The blonde man sputtered before incredulously staring at the retreating publicist. There wouldn’t be any need for Mikasa to restrain her if needed since she knew the way out. Eld turned back to Levi and Altair, his face showing how guilty he was. “Levi, I’m really sorry. If I’d known she’ll barge in here like this.”

“No, it’s fine. Thank you, Eld.”

“Alright.” Eld trailed off, shifting his attention from Levi to Altair. He waved at Levi’s son before pointing at the door behind. “Have a great afternoon, you two.”

Levi nodded at his friend, sitting on the couch with a sigh when the door closed. He had to get rid of that publicist, she was starting to become a headache. Levi then felt a small weight on his shoulder. Turning his head to the side, a head of onyx hair greeted his vision. With a small smile, he lifted his arm and wrapped it around Altair, letting him snuggle into his side some more. The two of them cherished the silence as if the room was their haven, away from pesky publicists and the bustling activity a floor below.

Speeding through the plantation felt liberating for Altair. He wanted to raise his arms in the air as they zoomed by the small tea trees but that would mean having Levi being suspicious of him. At first, Altair thought that the predicament with Captain would be the same with Nox but the black beauty of a horse nuzzled his palm affectionately as if he was the real owner. Of course, it couldn’t happen without the help of the sugar cubes laid out on his palm. Now, he was laughing as he raced with his dad, their destination was the hill on the other side of the plantation. It looked like Levi was winning but Altair tried to spur Nox faster. A blur of black reached their landmark, a tree with a swing on it, and Altair whooped at the top of his lungs.

“I won!”

“You always win,” Levi told him, a loving stare directed at his son.

Altair turned his horse to meet Levi’s stare. “I do?”

A confused frown painted the silver-eyed man’s lips.

At that, Altair brightened immediately, realizing his mistake. “I do! Just slipped my mind again. I can’t seem to stop forgetting things. That’s so weird.”

Levi guided his horse to walk towards Altair’s. “Yeah, so weird,” he murmured until he was beside his son. They stared at the plantation with varying expressions. The boy looked so mesmerized at how the sun touched every single tree while Levi blankly surveyed the rows of what brought him to this moment. It was once upon a time when he brought you here during spring break in junior year at college, telling you his dreams of starting a tea plantation. You looked radiant against the sunset, the rays creating a halo that Levi wanted to preserve forever. Altair’s laugh when he won has the same smile as yours when you manage to outrun him in a race. Levi couldn’t help but think of a life with you and the twins here in the plantation and estate, the two boys growing up with each other and with both parents unlike now. The four of you wouldn’t experience the pain brought by the separation. But reality struck him hard when Altair breathed out an expelling sigh, eyes soft around the corners like yours.

“So, Al, do you think we’re lonely?”

The said boy looked at his dad, who was wistfully looking at the plantation like it was hurting him. “I don’t think so.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Altair’s grip on the reins tightened. “Why are you asking this, Dad?”

Levi took a deep breath. “Believe it or not, Al, but I feel lonely every night. The moon and the stars must be tired of my internal monologues to them, all wishing to have a normal night with our complete family. But with Maryland here, there seems to be someone at the back of my head telling me to make a move. You know what, Al, I want—“

“Race you back to the ranch, Dad!”

“What—wait, Al! Hey, slow down, kiddo!”

Tears were starting to blur Altair’s vision as he rode around the plantation. No, the plan wasn’t going to work. His twin brother was a liar when he said he had an amazing and genius plan. Everything was starting to burn in flames and Altair had no choice but to watch it fester until only ashes remain. When he reached the stables, he tied the reins to the post with hurried yet precise knots. And Altair ran and ran. Up the slope leading to the manor, past the building where the workers were happily interacting with another until he felt himself bumping into someone. He brushed off a concerned Mikasa shouting at him to slow down. Minutes later, Levi passed by the fretting young woman, the latter asking if Altair was alright. But the onyx-haired boy finally reached the safe confines of their manor, passing by the opened double doors. He started pacing around the living room.

Altair buried his hands in his hair, his accent coming out as he rambled. “This isn’t going the way he expected it to. Bonkers, this is a mess! I’m just a kid and I couldn’t handle everything at once. Now, Mum’s getting married to a person I don’t know and Dad is tying the knot with Cindy—Cassandra—whatever!” He leaned on the back of an armchair, body slumping on the plush cushion. “And I don’t even know Dad as much as he does. How am I supposed to fix this?”

“What are you trying to fix?” Petra suddenly appeared in the armchair. (She was there all along but she figured that by keeping quiet, she will learn more about why Altair acted strangely since he came home.) The redhead stood up, arms crossed on her chest. “Do you want to share something with the class, Al?”

Altair jumped back, placing a hand on top of his pounding heart. “You gave me a fright, Petra.”

Petra leaned back with an expression of disbelief. “What? Are you sure there isn’t anything you want to talk to me about? If you’re scared of your dad finding out your secrets right now, you can always tell me.” Altair remained silent as he stared wide-eyed at the nanny and housekeeper. “Care to explain to me why Captain doesn’t like you anymore when he has been with you since you were a toddler? Or how you can’t open the doors properly? Even your appetite change this morning. I have so many questions, Al, and it all stemmed from when you came home. Do you know something we don’t?”

The boy shrugged. That didn’t seem to alleviate the suspiciousness he carried. “I just changed over the summer, that’s all.”

Petra slowly took a step forward and tilted her head down to meet Altair’s eyes. “I’m starting to think you were raised …” She shook her head to dispel the thought and turned around to make herself busy in the kitchen. “That’s impossible. Never mind. I must be needing sleep from all these theories.”

“I am raised by who, Petra?”

She waved her hand to dismiss the question. “Forget it, Al. I’m not supposed to talk to you about this anyway.”

“Like I’m raised by [Name] [Last Name]? Like I’m the other half of one pair of twins?”

The redhead tensed at the question, her smile frozen in place. She managed to blink herself outside of her stupor, slowly regarding the onyx-haired boy, who was gradually turning into an image of you. Those eyes, though sharing Levi’s stormy irises, were reminiscent of your kind ones — always appearing as soft as they can be despite the intensity of a present glare. Petra was at a loss for words and she had to clear her throat a couple of times to find her voice. “How do you know her full name? How do you know that you have a twin, Al? How do you know about—?”

“About Caelum?” The boy pursed his lips, forcing himself to smile. He dropped the act because there was no use continuing their charade any further. Besides, this is Petra, the most loyal person from what he could observe during a full day in the Ackerman estate. She reminded him of Oluo, the way they stuck to each parent almost every day. His British accent came out when he said the next words, “That’s because I am Caelum.”

If this wasn’t a serious situation, Caelum would’ve laughed at Petra’s reaction.

“Altair?!”

Levi looked around when he stepped foot on the patio. However, he was surprised at the peculiar scenario welcoming him in the living room — it was as if Petra was looking at his son for the first time in years. The redhead had both hands covering her mouth, tears prickling her eyes, and an expression showing disbelief. He rose an eyebrow in incredulity because nobody paid him any attention. With measured footsteps, Levi placed a hand on his son’s shoulders, making the boy jump a few inches in the air.

“Hey, buddy,” his voice was so soft since his boy looked shaken up just as much as Petra, “why did you take off on me like that? I told you I wanted to talk to you about something.” His son looked up at him with wide eyes so Levi expectantly glanced at Petra. The woman was still silent with that constipated look on her face. “Petra, do you need to take a shit? Why are you looking at Al like that?”

Caelum was breathing heavily, eyes pleading with Petra to let him tell Levi the truth.

With a subtle nod, Petra wiped her eyes and turned to Levi, who had his face scrunched in perplexity. “Like what? I’m not looking at him in a special way.” She shrugged but with one look at the bright-eyed boy beside her friend, her voice started to falter. “I’m looking at him like I’ve looked at him for eleven years. Since the day he came home from the hospital, all wrapped up and squirming for contact with his parents.” Petra looked like she could cry any minute. (Levi was staring at her like she had grown a second head. He was ready to give her a day-off.) “Seven pounds, five ounces, 21 inches long. This is how I look at him.”

Caelum felt himself smile as Petra gestured at him.

“Can I hug him?”

Levi blinked and stayed silent for a second. He lifted his hand from his son’s shoulder and stepped back since Petra wrapped the boy in a tight hug. He felt the back of an armchair behind him, leaning against it with a sigh. “Everybody’s so weird.”

As the woman continued hugging Caelum, she exclaimed, “Oh, he’s so beautiful and he’s grown so much.” The boy nuzzled his head on the crook of his nanny’s neck, a large smile painted on his face.

For once in his life, Levi wanted to sleep the day off. Maybe everything might go back to normal.

Petra pulled away from the hug, wiping her eyes with her sleeves. She pointed at Caelum while trying to control her voice from shaking. “I’m going to make you something special to eat. What do you feel like eating? Anything? You know what?” She waved her hand once she reached the entrance of the kitchen. “I’ll just whip up something from everything we’ve got, okay?” With a last nod and an apologetic smile directed at Levi, Petra went to the kitchen whilst wiping her tears, leaving behind the two Ackermans’.

Now that heartfelt moment ended, Levi knew he had to tell his son what’s weighing on his mind for the past years. All it took were eight weeks for him to steel himself in making a choice he won’t come to regret. If only he had done this when you gave him your back, a baby looking like him snug in your arms and reaching out to a father he won’t come to have. If only he had chased you to London, fighting for your love in front of your parents, promising a life filled with enough luxury for your newfound family. If only he had the strength back then, none of this would’ve happened. So Levi gently directed his son to the couches, sitting in front of the boy on the low table. Their gazes matched each other and it looked like Levi was staring at his younger self.

“We have to talk.” The onyx-haired man’s voice was so soft, matching his visage that was contorted in slight wariness and expectation.

Caelum nodded. “Okay. Shoot, Dad.”

Levi nodded back. “I’ve been thinking about this since you were a toddler and this summer was the only time I could focus on debating with myself on it.” He took a deep breath, his heart thundering in his chest, and his cheeks burning. “Al, I want to get back together with your mom.”

The whole world stopped. Caelum stopped breathing for a few seconds. There was a lack of emotions inside him at first, him just staring like an idiot at Levi. Suddenly, he felt like jumping but that would look suspicious so Caelum abruptly stood up in front of his dad, tingles traveling in every fiber of his body.

“Al?” Levi asked, confused at the constipated look on his little boy.

Bright gray eyes stared back at Levi, Caelum’s grin erasing every doubt in his father’s body. “This is perfect, Dad!”

“It is?” The onyx-haired man trailed off before perking up a little, a small grin tugging his mouth upwards. “Yeah, it is. I decided that I will do everything right this time and have our family back again.” He looked down wistfully on the floor, fingers wringing with each other. He murmured under his breath, “I wonder how Caelum’s doing right now. Will he like me? I’m not exactly awarded with the best father of the year title.”

On the other hand, Caelum heard it and he couldn’t help but grin knowingly. He erased that on his face when Levi looked up at him. “So, Dad, what are you going to do about Cindy?”

“What about the publicist?”

Caelum sat back down, leaning forward to enunciate his next words. “Well, it’s quite obvious that she’s so enamored by you.”

Levi scoffed a disdainful laugh. “Why would she? I’m not interested in her in some way. I don’t even like women her age.”

“That’s the thing, Dad. I heard from her yesterday that you’re planning on telling me something. I figured it would involve her since she suggested it. It might be a different thing than what you told me right now.”

“Oh, that. I decided, with the help of Petra and the other workers, that you will be the face of the tea shop. Since I am not too comfortable with the idea of having my pictures posted on every branch, a majority vote prompted you to do the job. But Mikasa suggested that we also do that by putting you in the new label design. It doesn’t have to have your face on it, just your silhouette. I think Isabelle will do that well enough.”

“So,” Caelum prolonged the word, “you’re not engaged to her, right?”

Levi looked ready to barf his lunch. “What? Where the hell did you get that idea?”

A sheepish smile prevented the laugh that was bubbling in Caelum’s chest. “I tend to overthink at times, Dad.”

The silver-eyed man sighed, running his hand through his hair. “You get that from me.”

“I asked you that because yesterday, she told me you proposed to her because you wanted me to have a mother figure. She even told me you dated because you liked her at first sight. She mentioned that you went horseback riding in the sunset like a typical chick flick pairing and there you confessed that you felt lonely because Mom left you. Oh, I mustn’t forget how you reciprocated her feelings under a moonlit night. Hey, Dad, where are you going? Dad?”

“Don’t mind me, Al, I’m killing a bitch this afternoon and it’s best if you stay put while I do that.”

“Dad?!”

Cynthia Maryland is a fucking menace to society.

It has been so long since Levi met a person who just by talking, brain cells are diminishing at every word they utter. The first one who made him feel this way was a genius, however, they were too much for his social battery. They always hung off of him at times during college all because they were your childhood friend, who followed you to America to make you feel like you had someone in a foreign country back then. That was seen as endearing but this time, it’s fucking irritating. Levi didn’t even have to control himself from showing how much he wanted this meeting to be over.

“Miss Maryland, can you please listen to me for one second?” Levi spat out, the stress coming to him in a migraine.

“I am listening, doll, and I guess those plans with Altair didn’t happen because you have me in your office — doors closed and just the two of us,” Cynthia spoke in a sultry voice that didn’t have any effect on the man slumped on his chair. “I will do anything for you, Mr. Ackerman.”

“Thank God for that.”

Cynthia was over the stars at that statement.

“Because I believe it’s time for your job as my shop’s publicist to be terminated. So I suggest getting out of here.”

“What?!” The brunette all but shrieked.

At the commotion, a knock resonated in the room. “Levi, is everything all right in there?” Mikasa asked. “Do you need me to restrain her?”

“No need, Mikasa,” Levi answered, not looking away from the distressed woman squawking in front of him. “Hey, Maryland, what are you whining about? Didn’t you hear what I just said? You’re fired. What are you still doing here?”

“Pray tell, why are you firing me?! You need me!”

Levi rose an eyebrow. “Why would I need you when I have capable people working on the plantation right now? It was a mistake hiring you. Eld was actually the one who wanted to have a publicist for the tea shops and if my secretary said it would be beneficial to the business, I will always say yes. But I guess he hired the wrong person. As for the question of why I fired you, let’s just say, you were spewing things that weren’t even true. And of all people, you said those things to my son. What are you trying to gain from telling him we’re fucking engaged? Money? My last name?”

The brunette remained silent, angry tears dripping on her cheeks.

“Let me tell you this, Miss Maryland, you’re not worth those things. So if you don’t want me to get fucking angry at you, get the fuck out.”

While the whole debacle with Cynthia was happening in Levi’s office, Caelum was in the kitchen rolling a pin over a chunk of dough. The silver-eyed boy was helping Petra with the afternoon snacks, something that the nanny suggested since Caelum looked bored out of his mind, staring into the high ceiling of the living room while lying on the long couch. Only half an hour passed since Levi stormed into his office, demanding Eld to contact ‘that hysterical fucking woman’, and only two batches of apple turnovers were ready for the oven. There were a lot of workers on the plantation, all of them having big appetites, so Caelum and Petra had a lot of work to do.

Caelum just finished his story of meeting Altair for the first time and his shoulders felt so light after spilling everything out.

Petra pensively gave Caelum a wistful glance. “I’m happy that you two found each other.”

The boy looked up at the redhead. An air of earnest gratitude exuded from her, the idea of two twins reuniting was worth being happy about. Petra wasn’t the only one thanking the moon and stars for granting a request, Caelum felt like his world expanded because of that summer camp. “I am happy, too. I got to meet you, Mikasa, and the workers. I want this stay to last longer than a day but Al and I will eventually go back to our rightful homes.”

“Why are you being sad, kiddo? Didn’t Levi tell you that he’s planning on courting your mom again?”

“That’s the thing,” Caelum mumbled. The dough became too thin to wrap around apple fillings at the force he was pressing down on the rolling pin. He sighed, starting over again. “Mum is engaged to someone in London. I can’t even do anything about it.”

Petra hummed casually. “But Altair can.” Beside her, Caelum once again shifted his attention from the dough to her side profile, making her smile. “One thing I know about Al through the years is that he will do everything to make his plan a success. That brother of yours is a stubborn kid but he’s determined to fulfill his goal, which so happens to be what Levi’s planning, too.” She placed the knife on the cutting board, leaving the apples unattended, and faced Caelum with a half-smile. “How about this, you want to make this a success?”

Caelum nodded.

“Then tell your dad who you really are.”

The boy’s eyes widened. “No!” He looked down, cursing himself for raising his voice at Petra. “I mean, he’ll be mad for sure.”

The redhead chuckled before pointing a ladle at Caelum. “That’s where you’re wrong. Levi was always praying every night to have a glimpse of his other son across the sea. Now that you’re here, you’ll be giving him the happiness he always wanted for eleven years. He deserves to hug you, knowing who you are.”

This is how Caelum found himself standing in front of Levi’s bedroom. It was inevitable anyway — his dad finding out his real identity. Letting out a sigh, Caelum twisted the doorknob with clammy hands, opening the door to the image of Levi reading a book on his bed. The boy smiled when Levi looked up at the sound of the door opening.

Levi took off his reading glasses and smiled. “Hey, kiddo, come in.” He lifted his covers as an invitation for the tentative boy. When Caelum got on the bed, Levi placed his book on the nightstand along with his glasses. For a moment, he only looked at his son with soft eyes as Caelum adjusted the duvet to cover his lap. He pulled him close with an arm around the boy’s shoulders, letting Caelum relax against him. “Did you have a nightmare?” Levi felt his son shake his head. “Is something bothering you?” At the silence, Levi looked down on Caelum's onyx hair. He kissed the side of the boy’s head. “I hope you will feel better once we spend the rest of the day tomorrow.”

“I can’t, Dad, I’m sorry.” It was a low murmur that Levi had to crane his head to hear. “I have to go somewhere tomorrow.”

“And where will this somewhere be? Is Mikasa going with you? Or did Petra invite you to go get the groceries?”

The silver-eyed boy squirmed out of Levi’s hold, burying himself in the think blankets.

“Al? Are you feeling unwell? Kiddo?” Levi tried tickling his son’s sides but was only met with muffled laughs. “Al.”

A British accent enveloped the words Caelum uttered next, “That’s where I’m going! I have to go see Altair.”

“And where might Altair be?”

A pause. “In London.” Levi froze. “With his mum, [Name] [Last Name].”

It was as if cold water surrounded Levi, dunking him in a fever dream. It was too good to be true. Of all the surprises he received for the day, this is by far the most responsible for taking away his voice and steady breathing. He couldn’t think properly at the revelation. So this was the reason why Petra looked like she saw the boy for the first time because she did, after eleven years. His heartbeat echoed through his chest, making a duet with his clattering mind. Levi didn’t know what to do. Should he embrace the son he never got to hug in almost twelve years or should he stay quiet and let the night go on, pretending that this was a dream? His eyes started to burn with unshed tears as he carefully lifted the edge of the duvet off the small figure lying beside him. There was no way this was happening. But as he finally got a glimpse of his son staring up at him, eye shape boring some similarities to yours, Levi let out a shaky breath.

“Caelum?”

Caelum sat up. “Yes, Dad?”

Levi’s vision became blurry, arms instantly wrapping around Caelum. He hugged him tightly, worried that this might be a trick of his loneliness, that this was Altair pretending to be his twin to make him happy. But no. He knew Altair like the back of his hand and if he hugged him like this, the little brat would whine at the long physical contact. This was Caelum, hands gentle like yours as they patted his back. He didn’t know he was crying until Caelum rubbed rhythmic circles on his back to calm him down.

“Al and I met at camp and we decided to switch places.” His breath hitched, nuzzling his head on Levi’s chest. “Dad, I’ve dreamt my whole life of finally meeting you. Seeing you waiting at the airport nearly made me cry because you were exactly like Mum’s vague stories. And Al wanted to meet Mum as well so we sort of made the switch impulsively.”

Levi pulled away, a smile present on his face. “Who exactly made this plan?”

“Never in my life would I suggest switching places with my twin. I told Al this is an idiotic plan yet here we are.”

Levi snorted a laugh. “Of course it’s Al’s idea.”

“But Dad …”

“Hmm?” The man waited patiently for his little heaven to speak up.

“I hope you’re not raging at the moment because I love you so much and I just hope that one day, you will love me as me — not as a mirror image of Al.”

Levi pulled Caelum again in a hug, kissing the boy on the crown of his head. “Did you know I was the one who named you?”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Since your mom named Altair after a star, I thought it would be best if you were named after the realm the star is situated. You’re my little heaven, Cae, and nothing can change that. I’ve loved you your whole life. Stop being a mopey little brat — I meant that term in the most endearing way possible because your mother was the original one, she was my pain in the ass — and give your dad another hug.”

Caelum felt like he forgot something, choosing this moment to never mention you being engaged to someone and instead chose to let his dad’s warm hugs lull him to sleep.

taglist:

@loveprisms @halparkebitch @omlbarnes @a--nonymousse @nunufx @misslovingpearl @megumiisee @whalerus

just give me an ask if you want to be added to the taglist !!

[3rensgf]

pls ignore if you too many babe :) but may i request a drabble abt eren w a bunny girl ? <3

bunny girl eren yeager x reader

word count: 897

warnings: hybrid!au, fluff, nothing really this is a cute fic, not edited

notes: i wasn't sure if you wanted y/n to be erens gf or if we were going down the hybrid!au approach, so i made a wild guess and did the whole hybrid thing. if you'd like me to rewrite it to fit ur wants more, i wouldn't mind! hope you enjoyed <3 i had fun writing this one!

main masterlist

Usually after a long, hard day out and about in the real world, all anyone ever wanted to do was go home and relax. No worrying about bills, chores, schoolwork or returning Mom’s worried calls because she had another bad dream about you dying for the 60th time. As soon as you stepped into the comfort of your home, all your worries melted away. At least until you needed to worry about them again.

Same went for Eren, who currently stood in front of his apartment, head slumped against the cool door to ease his headache. Work drained away any life that was left from him and then some. Luckily for him it was Friday, and he didn’t have another shift until Monday. Slowly, he lifted up the hand holding his key to unlock his door. He barely even had any energy to unlock his front door.

The quiet click of his lock unlocking filled the empty halls. The pounding headache in his head made it sound even louder, making him wince. Twisting the knob, he started to open the door. All he had to do was open the door all the way, get changed into his sleep clothes and wind down for the weekend--

“Rennie!” a soft voice called out to him. The pitter patter of feet filled the hallways, and a bunny lunged at Eren to engulf him into a hug.

Eren grunted and stumbled back a couple of steps in surprise. His hands came to wrap around your frame to keep you steady. “Hey, Bun. Didja miss me that much?” he chuckled, petting your soft ears.

Untucking your face from his chest, you looked up at him with sparkly doe eyes, nodding eagerly. “Miss you much! Lonely alone. (Y/N) no like,” you said clumsily.

Adopting you had been one of the best decisions in his life. Couple of months ago, he had mentioned being lonely to his friends, saying the empty apartment felt suffocating sometimes.

“Well, you could always adopt a hybrid,” Armin shrugged, drumming his fingers against the can of his iced tea. “They could always use a good home. Just do your research first, ‘cuz they can be a big responsibility.”

Right as he went home, he started reading up articles on hybrid care. How to adopt a hybrid, what to feed certain hybrids, how to keep them safe and happy at home, proper etiquette to take them outside, you name it. Eren wanted to be as prepared as possible to bring a new friend home.

He had gone to the shelter to adopt a dog hybrid, thinking it would be the best fit for his personality. However when he passed your pen going down to the dogs, he fell in love right away. Seeing your shy form huddled up in the corner nibbling on a chew toy made his heart melt. Right then and there, he told the volunteer he was going to take you home.

You didn’t know much English at first, only knowing a couple of words. Eren had worked tirelessly to teach you how to communicate, and his lessons paid off. Although you could only speak in broken sentences, you could still speak. Eren always patted himself on the back when he would hear you mutter random English phrases under your breath to practice.

“Awe, I’m sorry, Bun,” he cooed, leading you inside the house and locking the door behind him. “Hey, I have good news. Rennie’s going to be home for the weekend! We can spend as much time as you want together,” he cheered, watching your wide eyes grow even wider in excitement.

Your nose twitched and a quiet purr came from your throat. You tried your best to contain your excitement, you really did! But you knew your Rennie came home tired from work, and you wanted to make it easier for him.

“Rennie,” you said, tugging his shirt. He hummed and petted your ears more, urging you to continue. “Bun-- Bun dinner. I make. For Rennie!” you said, bouncing in his arms. Eagerly, you squirmed out of his arms to lead him to the kitchen. “Rennie no work! Rennie relax! Bun take care Rennie!” you chirped excitedly.

Oh, what a sight the kitchen was. Plates and pots were thrown carelessly around, stains he couldn’t identify were splattered everywhere, and half the pantry was sitting outside on the floor. On the table were two plates, filled to the brim with various leafy greens and hay, your usual meals. He could see that both plates had some bites taken out of it. You probably got hungry while “cooking” dinner and couldn’t resist sneaking in a bite or two.

With the state the kitchen was in, Eren knew he wouldn’t be able to relax right away like he wanted to. Already, he could already see himself on his knees scrubbing away at the mess you made.

But when he turned to look at you, all his tension faded away seeing your excited face stare up at him, waiting for his praise for doing such a good job.

Eren smiled softly and brought a hand to pet your head again, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead. “Thank you, Bun. I appreciate it,” he cooed. Seeing your elated face stare back up at him made his worries melt away. He could worry about cleaning some other time.

taglist - @liaxxx109

3rensgf © 2021 ; do not repost or translate my work.

[dc41896]

New Roommate

Pairing: Paul DiskantxBlack Reader

���️: Fluff, slight mentions of seggsy time

“We’re gonna have so much fun bubbas. We’re gonna go to the park, on hikes-oh! And the beach! I already know you’re gonna love it,” you beam rubbing noses with the two-month, blue nose pitbull who was trying to lick your face. “First though, I gotta get your dad on board.”

It’s not that your boyfriend didn’t want or like dogs. He always said how he’d love to have one someday when he was settled somewhere.

However that “somewhere” to Paul was a house with plenty yard space, an adequate amount of privacy, and maybe located in the suburbs. Not your recently renovated, two bedroom apartment you both just happened to move into about a month ago.

You made an agreement that you wouldn’t get any pets (well besides a fish, and a small one at that) to not risk messing anything up and having some sort of consequence, which would more than likely be in monetary form. Entranced by the short haired, too adorable for words pup though, you honestly could care less about the consequences.

Plus you just knew your little buddy wouldn’t cause any trouble. You could see that in his round, soft grey eyes.

“So, you’re gonna stay with your auntie Raye until I can work my charm on him okay?” The pup only tilts his head before letting out a small bark and making you pout as you hug him close. “I know but it’s only temporary. A night at most.”

Paul typically didn’t get home until later in the evening now that he was on a new case, so you had plenty of time to clean up any traces of dog left behind after Raye would leave and start cooking his favorite meal. As an added bonus, you also thought about your short, lilac, ruched number with spaghetti straps that always made his eyes light up when you wore it. He claimed it perfectly complimented your skin and made you look even more angelic as his hands always seemed to find your sides, the small of your back, or lower if you were right beside him (which of course you typically were).

However, hearing the familiar thud of boots journeying down the hall and rattling of keys, something told you that plan might not work now.

You quickly stand up, taking the probably confused puppy with you to the bathroom where you sit him in the empty tub, along with his new bone shaped chew toy, kneeling with a finger over your lips.

“Stay here and be really quiet okay?,” you whisper just as you hear the front door unlock. Quietly rushing to close the room door behind you, you muster your best ‘I wasn’t doing anything’ smile while you approached the tired looking man.

“Hey beautiful,” he greets, sweetly pecking your lips.

“Hey, you’re home early today.”

“Yea, we had a break in the case and went undercover to get the suspect which led to a chase, then a fight, and me having bruises forming as we speak.”

Dropping his bag by the dinner table, a sigh followed by a short wince leaves his mouth as he sinks into the leather couch cushions letting his head fall back and eyes close.

“Alright plan B it is,” you think to yourself moving behind him to gently massage his shoulders, occasionally letting your hands journey forward along his pecs giving them attention as well. Hearing a soft moan at his approaching relaxed state urges you to continue, knowing you’d soon have him exactly where you wanted.

“Aww I’m sorry babe. Where does it hurt?”

“My sides mostly, but my back a bit too.”

He helps you remove his fitted black shirt, a favorite of yours, letting out a short hiss from having to extend his sore muscles. Guiding him to lie down and placing one of the small throw pillows under his head, you straddle his lap letting your fingers drag along the red and light blue marks littering his sides.

“It doesn’t hurt when you breathe does it?”

“No.”

“What about this?,” you ask pressing down to feel him flinch under you.

“Ow! Babe-,”

“Sorry! Sorry just checking.” Watching him settle back into his comfortable position with arm draped over his forehead, you slowly bend forward, lips inches from his bruise looking up at your boyfriend through your lashes. “And this?”

You feel his low chuckle vibrate his muscular upper body as your gentle, open mouthed kisses scatter from each injury to eventually find the spot just below his ear.

“I feel better already,” he smiles tilting your chin so your soft lips could meld with his. Kiss growing deeper with each passing second.

“Hooked like a fish,” you thought, lips never ceasing while being brought closer to his body as he sat up with hands squeezing your hips.

“Baby wait,” he states slightly leaning his head back and making you pout. “Let me go shower first. I’m sweaty and probably stink-,”

“What’s the point when you’re just gonna get sweaty again?,” you smirk taking his now red, fuller bottom lip between your teeth.

“All the more reason for you to join me then.” You can’t fully enjoy the combination of his tongue and lips on your neck from your brain hurriedly trying to figure out how to stop this man from finding your little surprise in the bathroom.

“Your, um..sides though! You know it’s gonna hurt trying to shower so just stay here with me.”

“Is there a reason you don’t want me going in our bathroom?,” he asks detaching from your neck with one final bite to eye you suspiciously.

“No, of course not. I just missed you.” Batting your lashes, you nonchalantly let your nail trace a line from where his pendant sat down the middle of his abdomen and just above his buckle before he shifted, swiftly lying you on your back with one hand hooked under your knee bringing it around his waist.

Men. Always so easy.

Giggling as thumbs graze the lower band of your bra and lips return to their assault on your neck and collarbone, a high pitched bark along with scuffling makes you freeze as Paul lifts his head confused.

“You heard that right?”

“Y-Yeah. It’s probably from one of the neighbors. Speaking of dogs though-”

When the barks and scuffling become more frequent, you start to wonder if Raye would mind you staying the night since you’d surely need a place to stay with Paul being mad at you.

“Nah that sounds really close,” he replies unhooking your leg to go investigate for himself. The only thing you can do is sit and nervously wait for the inevitable hearing him open the bedroom door and eventually enter the bathroom. “Honey...!”

“Hmm?!,” you ask biting the corner of your lip, turning your head at the sound of Paul padding across the wooden floor holding the noisy pup.

“Mind telling me why this little guy was in our tub?”

“....Maybe he was a gift from the front office?,” you innocently shrug making him bring his free hand to his hip, sternly looking at you.

“Y/N...,”

“Alright. My coworker and I were bored one day and started looking through the pets the shelter had for adoption online and this little guy came across the screen and stole my heart.”

“Babe we talked about this. We can’t mess this place up.”

“I know and we won’t. Before you came home, we just hung out in here and he was so calm and sweet. Even in the tub he sat there like a good boy,” you smile standing up to scratch behind his ears making his tail wag against Paul’s side.

“That’s because he couldn’t get out since the tub is taller than him,” he retorts as you roll your eyes taking your new baby from his grasp.

“Cmon Paul look at this face and tell me you can say no.”

Holding the puppy at his eye level, there’s a few moments of silence as the two simply look at each other before the grey haired dog licks his cheek making him groan.

“You know I can’t say no. To either of you,” he softly smiles petting the short fur on his head. Seeing your pout as you bring your new friend next to your face, he lowly chuckles caressing your cheek as his lips find yours. “Alright he can stay.”

“Thank you!,” you excitedly squeal bouncing on the balls of your feet. “I already have the perfect name picked out.”

“What’s that?”

“Disco. After his dad,” you both laugh.

“Well, welcome to the family Disco,” he smiles taking him from your hands to place him on the floor where he began to sniff around getting acclimated to his new home. You’re caught off guard when you’re tossed over his broad shoulder, blood rushing to your head as you gently kick your legs laughing.

“Paul!”

“Disco, look after everything. Me and mom have some unfinished business,” he smirks closing the bedroom door behind him with his foot.

Taglist: @fumbling-fanfics @honeydulcewrites @honeychicana @lady-olive-oil @themyscxiras @melinda-january @lovelymari4 @maxcullen @literaturefeen @damnitaa @curlyhairclub @plokyu23 @fullofmelaninsarcasmandepression @nunubug99 @felicity-x0 @ellixthea @jojolu @jnk-812 @brwn-sgr @captainsamwlsn @wildfirecracker @nina-sj @iammyownlover @chaneajoyyy @scoop93535 @secretmysteriousperson

If anybody wants to be tagged, has asked to be tagged but don’t see your name, only want to be tagged for certain people I write for (can be found in masterlist), or no longer wish to be tagged just let me know🤓!

[lucy-268]

Revelations

A/N - This is ‘the talk’ and it takes place a week after Regrets. You can find that on my masterlist. Also, this meets the requirement for the @choicesweeklychallenge​. You belong to me can be found in bold.

Disclaimer: Characters belong to PB

Warnings: none? I don’t think even language.  

Series/Pairing: Open Heart - Ethan x f!MC (Charley Valentine)

Word count: 4,466

*****Thursday*****

“Has Denver General sent us any more information, or will I just find out when I get there?” June asked.

Consulting his notes, Ethan answered her. “Dr. Morgan said that he would send us the remaining test results as soon as he gets them. He’ll be sending them to all of us, so if you want to discuss the case with any of us we’ll all have the same information.”

June never looked up from the report she was reviewing. “I doubt it will be necessary.”

“Regardless of whether you think it’s a necessity, you will keep me informed of the case.” Ethan reminded her.

“Of course, Ethan.” June said. “If you don’t need me for anything else, I’m going to get ready for my flight?”

“You don’t want to hear about my new patient?” Baz asked her.

June glanced at him. “My flight leaves in less than three hours, so no. At least not right now.” She gathered her files and left saying goodbye to the rest of the team.

“Baz, what is going on with your new patient?” Charley asked.

“Late-onset Chediak-Higashi Syndrome. For me as an immunologist, I find it extremely interesting, especially as the patient is thirty-two and just diagnosed.”

Charley looked between Baz and Ethan. “Is this a team patient?”

“No. This is a patient of Baz’s. We will have a new patient coming in on Monday for which you will be primary.” Ethan held up a folder.

Baz briefed them on his patient, excusing himself when he received a page saying the patient was being admitted.

“And then there were two,” Ethan handed her the folder.

She flipped it open and read through the file. “Twenty-five year old male. Diabetic. Joint pain and muscle weakness.” Charley looked at him. “Do you know what it is and you want me to figure it out?”

Ethan shook his head. “I have a couple of ideas but I don’t know for sure what it is. You should have several ideas right now.”

“The symptoms can be just about anything. You said he gets here on Monday ?”

He nodded. “He’s already been to Mass Kenmore several times. Even though we have sent a release signed by the patient, Terrance hasn’t sent the files to us. So we may start with spinning our wheels testing for things that they have already tested for and eliminated.”

Charley studied the file again. “Did you see the iron levels here? I think the first thing is a liver biopsy?”

“Are you telling me that’s what you are going to do, or asking me if I think that’s the right choice?” Ethan asked her.

Her head snapped up. “That’s what I’m going to order. I’ll even have the order written so the test is run as soon as he’s admitted.” Charley met his eyes. “What?”

Ethan smiled. “There aren’t a lot of doctors who could have figured out to start with that test after reviewing a file for less than fifteen minutes. Let alone a second year resident. So I am impressed.” He reached over and stroked the back of her hand. “You often impress me.”

She turned her hand and laced their fingers. “It’s Thursday.”

“So it is.”

“Last week you texted me and said we would talk on Saturday.”

“Yes. And we decided we’d have dinner at six.”

Charley met his eyes. “You aren’t going to change your mind?”

“We’re meeting at my apartment. I’ll be there. We are long overdue for the talk. And I’m sorry for that.”

Charley smiles. “Will I finally get my chicken?”

“You will not. We’ve made the chicken together,” he held up his hand when she was going to interrupt, “this time, we’ll make something else. You plan the meal.”

“We may have made the chicken together but I never got to try it.”

“I want to see what you come up with. You can create any menu you want. Email me what we need and I’ll go shopping.” Ethan smiled at her.

Charley considered for a minute. “Anything?” When Ethan nodded, she continued, “My grandma had an amazing pot roast recipe. We could roast it in the oven or use a crockpot. It’s always best if it cooks on low in the crockpot, so that would take about seven or so hours. I’ll email you the list, and I guess I’ll be there late morning. I guess we’ll also have lunch together, too. That’s alright, isn’t it Ethan?” She didn’t even wait for his answer before she left the office.

Charley watched the office door to see if he was going to come after her and inform her they would not be spending the entire day together.

Ethan sat at his desk, he smiled as he realized that life would never be boring around Charley Valentine.

*****Saturday*****

Sienna pushed open Charley’s bedroom door. “Are yo-” Sienna stopped mid-sentence. She heard several loud thuds and  wanted to ask if Charley was okay, but she did not expect the scene she witnessed. She also didn’t see her roommate. “Charley!”

“I’m here,” Charley called, pushing herself out from under the bed. “I was looking for this shoe. That I can’t wear now. Thank you, Lucy!” The shoe had become a chew toy for their pet.

Lucy, their fennec fox, sat in the middle of Charley’s bed, looking proud of herself.

“Forget the shoe, we understand what happened to it.” Sienna looked around the room. “Was there a bomb? Are you telekinetic? Did your closet and dresser decide to vomit every article of clothing you own into your room?”

“I’m looking for something to wear, and I don’t have anything! I got off at five yesterday, I should have gone shopping!”

Sienna remembered the day a couple weeks ago when Charley got home late clad in someone else’s clothes. Based on her own conversation with a certain someone, Sienna had a pretty good idea who. Now she was frantically trying to find something special to wear. “What’s his name?”

Charley froze. “What’s whose name?”

“Obviously, the guy that you’re spending your day with. The same one you were with when you came home wearing clothes that were way too big for you. So, who is it?”

“No one,” Charley stated. “I’m not spending the day with anyone.”

“Yet you canceled on Bryce and me for today.” Sienna picked up a Columbia t-shirt and a pair of jeans with a rip in the knees. “Here, put these on.” She smiled. “I mean, if you aren’t doing anything special today, it doesn’t matter what you have on.”

Charley looked at the clothes that Sienna tossed on her bed. She had to leave for Ethan’s before Sienna would be leaving to meet Bryce, and she still didn’t know what she was going to wear.

Sienna watched her. “I heard that Dr. Ramsey also has today off. And he did when you had your second day off two weeks ago.”

Charley froze and looked to the door. “Everyone else is working today and they’re gone?”

Sienna nodded and sat down on Charley’s bed. “Uh-huh.”

“You can’t tell anyone.”

“So it wasn’t just the one night when he spent the night here?”

“That day we went to the country club and later I went to his apartment to talk to him? That was the first time, and the night after my hearing was the second. It was also the last time.” Charley sighed. “Then he went to the Amazon so we could ‘reset’ since he would be my director supervisor.” Charley sighed. “Since he’s been back he says we need to stay away from each other, but then he’ll kiss me. Today we’re going to ‘talk.’ We’ve been supposed to talk since right after the softball game, but it kept getting delayed.”

Sienna smirked at her. “You had on his clothes the day you came home.”

Charley's face turned red. “We spent the day together with his dad in Providence. We took his dog for a walk and I fell into a mud puddle.”

“You’ve met his family!”

“His dad. He hadn’t told Alan that he was bringing me with him. Ethan had never taken anyone home with him before, not even Harper Emery.”

“Dr. Ramsey and Dr. Emery were a thing!” Sienna’s mouth dropped open.

“I don’t know if it’s really common knowledge. Aurora probably knows. I saw the two of them talking once and it seemed intimate. It was the day before they announced the opening on the diagnostics team. I did ask him about it later and he said he likes to keep his private life private, but he did say they had an on-again, off-again thing but it ended permanently when she became chief.” Charley rested her head on her hand. “I probably shouldn’t have said anything. Don’t tell anyone.”

Sienna mimed sealing her lips. “I thought that you and Bryce were kind of together.”

“We hooked up a couple of times but we both agreed to be casual.”

“And with Ramsey, you don’t want casual?”

“I don’t.” Charley chewed on her lip. “Sienna, I’m terrified about today. I know that everything is going to change.”

“Well then, let’s get you ready.” Sienna picked up the t-shirt and jeans. “This probably won’t do; we’ll find something else.”

Charley was just getting ready to leave when her phone rang. She looked at the caller id and sighed. “If you’re calling to cancel-” she started.

“I’m not,” she heard his rich baritone as well as a smile in his voice. “I had to go to the hospital to pick up something. If you haven’t left yet you can ride with me. I’m outside your building.”

“I’ll be down in a minute.” Charley disconnected, smiling.

Soon they were in his apartment. She kicked off her shoes at the door and stood there when he walked further into the apartment. He got half way through the living room when he realized she wasn’t with him. He turned to find her at the door. “If we want to make this pot roast we need to go to the kitchen.”

Charley gave a nervous laugh and stepped away from the door. She tossed her purse on the couch as they walked into the kitchen. They washed their hands and Ethan pulled his crockpot out of the pantry while Charley pulled the roast out of the refrigerator. She saw the printout from her email with the image of her grandma’s recipe. Ethan gathered the rest of the ingredients while Charley brewed a pot of coffee.

“Why the crockpot instead of a roasting pan in the oven? I saw the recipe had directions for both with cooking times for either low or high in the slow cooker.”

“It tastes better and is more tender.”

Ethan smirked. “It does not. And we need to use the Dutch oven even if it’s just to brown the roast.”

“Maybe it doesn’t do a lot for the taste, but it is more tender.” Charley watched as the coffee finished brewing, standing  with her back to him. “It takes longer to cook in the slow cooker on low and I wanted to spend more time with you.” She gave a short laugh. “Funnily enough, now that I’m here, I’m nervous.”

“Why?”

She turned to face him. “I think that today may change everything, and I’m hopeful but I’m also scared. I’ve been wanting to sit down with you away from the hospital with just the two of us for so long, but now that we’re actually going to do that...” She bit her lip.

“Now you understand why I’ve been putting it off. But I’ve done a lot of thinking. And I talked to Naveen. We are long overdue. Today will change everything but we will be in agreement with it, I think.”

Charley nodded. Ethan turned back to the counter.  “Let’s get this set for dinner, fix lunch, and talk.”

Charley browned the roast in the Dutch oven while Ethan chopped the vegetables and herbs. Once the roast was in the crockpot, Charley cooked the onion. Once they started to soften, they added the rest of the ingredients, including the coffee. “Why coffee?” Ethan asked.

Charley smiled, watching the mixture simmer. “Is this a quiz, same as ‘why neat’ that first night at Donahue’s?”

“Genuine curiosity. As much as I love coffee, I’ve never had pot roast cooked in coffee. I found the recipe interesting.”

“It helps to tenderize the meat and gives the gravy a richer flavor.”

Once the gravy and onion mixture was cooked, Ethan poured it over the meat and set the timer. While Charley washed the accumulated dishes, Ethan fixed salads for lunch. They took their plates to the living room and sat side-by-side on his sofa.

“You talked to Naveen about us.” When he nodded, she continued, “I talked to Sienna.”

They fell into a silence while they ate. Charley glanced at him every so often.

He pushed the last piece of lettuce around on his plate before finally setting the plate on the coffee table. He turned to her; she mimicked his moves and faced him.

“Ethan, I’ve said for a while that a relationship with you is an easy decision for me. It’s what I want. I think that we could be good together, amazing even.”

Ethan nodded. “I know. You aren’t the problem, I am. I want to be able to push you to be the best doctor you can be.”

“You can do that professionally, regardless of any personal relationship we have. I can take criticism from Dr. Ramsey and know that it isn’t coming from Ethan.”

“You’re assuming that I can also have that division.”

That got Charley’s attention. “You’re Ethan Freakin’ Ramsey. You can do anything you try to. If you want to make the distinction you will. And if you cross the line, I’ll let you know.”

“Another problem-”

Charley put her hand on his arm. “If you just want to list a lot of potential possible problems, why are we even having a discussion? Earlier you said that today would change everything and you thought we’d be in agreement.” She folded her arms across her chest and focused on a picture hanging on the wall. “If you thought that I’d change my mind about us, you’re wrong. If you thought you could list all the reasons why we can’t be together and why you won’t be with me, I was right to be nervous about this. If that’s-”

Ethan reached over and grabbed her chin, forcing her to face him. “What I want to do is identify the obstacles or potential obstacles we face so we are both aware of them, and to decide how we need to handle them in the future.” He wiped a tear out of her eye. “Because in case you haven’t figured it out yet, I very much do want to be with you.”

Charley grabbed his hand and kissed his palm before lacing their fingers together. She smiled at him. “I’m sorry for my outburst. Continue, please.”

“Another problem is the board. They don’t like interoffice romances. Naveen seems to think this won’t be an issue. He seems to think that as long as it isn’t impacting the care of the patients, or the bottom line of the hospital, they wouldn’t care, nor would they even need to be aware. I disagree with him on this. I think the board makes it their business to know what goes on in the hospital.”

Charley interrupted again. “I know that there are married couples at the hospital. Was it a problem when you and Harper were together?” Ethan drew in a deep breath when she asked that. “If you don’t want to answer that you don’t have to.”

“I will. It was not a problem and the board did not have an issue with it when she was head of neurosurgery and I was a fellow on the diagnostics team. If our relationship would have continued when she was chief or if I had been a surgeon, it would have been a problem. Any other couples at Edenbrook do not work in the same area, and one member of the couple is not another’s supervisor.”

Ethan continued, “I don’t want anyone to think that you got the position on my team because of our relationship. I don’t want anyone to have any doubt about that. You earned it.”

Charley nodded. “I did earn it. You weren’t even the one who put me on the team. Naveen did.”

Ethan agreed that while that was true, many people at the hospital could have thought that he asked Naveen to do that.

“If anyone has doubts, I graduated at the top of my class at Columbia. Not near, I was ranked first. In fact if anyone had ranked all med school graduates my year from around the country, I’d probably be in the top fifty.”

Ethan laughed. “Someone did. And you are higher than that. You are somewhere in the top twenty. I’m not going to narrow it down more than that for you.”

“Based on that, I think I earned the right to be on the team. Not to mention helping to cure Naveen last year. Our relationship had nothing to do with it. Well except for the fact you inspired me to go to med school in the first place. And I wanted to work with you, which is why I came to Edenbrook.”

“We probably don’t want to advertise our personal relationship at work. The hospital has a wonderful gossip network and we’ll need to be careful. That being said it probably won’t be long before everyone knows about us.”

“That sounds okay. But some people will know. I told Sienna and you told Naveen. My roommates will know I’m seeing someone, and will make it their mission to find out who.” Charley wasn’t sure if she should mention the next part, but figured she might as well. “June does, or she thinks she does. At least that was what she implied the day I caught her with my personnelle file.”

Ethan froze. “She had your file?”

Charley nodded. “She said that she reads the files for everyone she works with. She tried to tell me you asked her to get it for you, but I knew you wouldn’t have.”

“I’ll deal with her when she gets back from Denver. Your roommates and Naveen are fine.”

“If my roommates know Bryce will also know; and if Aurora does, Harper might.” Charley looked up at him. “Can we talk about Harper?”

“I thought we already had.”

“You ended things when she became chief. If she wouldn’t have, would you still be together, do you think?”

“We would not. We were together because it was mutually beneficial to the both of us. But we were never going to last.”

She smirked at him. “By ‘mutually beneficial’ do you mean it was convenient and the sex was good?”

“Yes.” Ethan said. “But then last year something happened that I knew would never lead Harper and I together again.” When Charley tipped her head to show she was interested in his answer, he continued. “Last year, an intern showed up and turned my life inside out. And I can’t get her out of my head.”

Charley started to move towards him, and he stopped her. “What about the scalpel jockey?”

Charley lips twitched. “His name is Bryce.”

“I’m aware, and you didn’t answer the question.”

“We hooked up twice, once at our housewarming party and again once after we were at Donahue’s. We almost did the night we researched treating Mrs. Martinez, but you’d already kissed me in Miami. I wasn’t interested in anyone else at that point.” She looked at the ground before meeting his eyes. “Bryce is a friend and a good one. I trust him. I also know if I ever did want a relationship with him, I’d have that choice. I don’t, and Bryce respects that.”

“As long as he knows that you belong to me.” Ethan pulled her onto his lap and wrapped his arms around her, kissing her.

“And you belong to me!” Charley shifted slightly on his lap and felt his hardness under her thigh. “We could continue this in the bedroom.”

“A very good idea.” As Ethan stood and lifted her, she wrapped her legs around his waist as he carried her into the bedroom.

Several hours later, they were laying with their legs tangled together, voices soft in the quiet room when an alarm on her phone beeped.

“Somewhere you need to be?” He kissed the top of her head.

She pushed herself up. “Actually, yes. The kitchen. I need to start the vegetables.”

He walked over to his closet and pulled out a robe that on him would reach mid-thigh. He tossed it to her, before grabbing another for himself. This one hit him at mid-calf. “You could have this one if you wanted.” She indicated the robe she hadn’t yet tied. It fell below her knees.

He snorted. “Be responsible for you tripping in this one? I don’t think so.”

As Charley gathered what she needed for the roasted cauliflower, Ethan grabbed the green beans. Charley explained that sometime they would fix potatoes with the roast, but her grandfather grew up near Idaho and often decided he wanted anything other than potatoes, so they would have cauliflower. “I don’t like raw or steamed, but I really like them roasted with this mustard sauce.”

Charley watched Ethan pull a cake plate out of the refrigerator. “Dessert?” At Ethan's acknowledgment she asked what it was. He wouldn’t tell her, saying he wanted it to be a surprise.

They worked efficiently together in the kitchen, getting dinner ready. Ethan selected a red wine for them and opened it to let it breathe. He carried their plates to the dining room table.

“This is good; the coffee does make the gravy richer.”

“Grandma knows best. My grandfather grew up in Spokane and grandma in Seattle. They had a restaurant in Seattle that my dad and all my aunts and uncles worked in while they were growing up.”

“You have a big family?”

“My dad had three brothers and two sisters. But even though they had six kids, my grandparents only had four grandchildren. There was my brother and me; we grew up in Pennsylvania. My one uncle had two boys and they were in Oregon. All of my dad’s family is in the northwest and we didn’t see them often. My dad moved there after he retired and I started med school.”

Ethan watched her. “Are we going to talk about your mom’s family?”

Charley shrugged. “Not much to tell. Her parents were killed in a car accident when she was in college. She was an only child and you know why I don’t talk to her.”

As they cleared the table and kitchen he asked her what he had been wondering about. “Why did you decide to do your residency in Boston with most of your family now out west?”

“It doesn’t feel like home to me there. I figured I could do my residency anywhere; it wasn’t a commitment to stay somewhere for my life. It’s only three years.” She smiled at him. “Besides coming here let me learn from the best.”

Ethan poured coffee and set the mugs on a tray with two dessert plates. Charley watched as he lifted the cover off the cake.

“Lemon! How did you know lemon was my favorite?” Charley couldn’t resist. She swiped her finger on the edge of the cake to collect a sample of icing. She popped it in her mouth.

“I asked Sienna the other day and she told me.”

Charley stared at him. “She helped me get dressed this morning and she didn’t say anything!”

Ethan laughed. “You need help getting dressed in the mornings?”

She felt her face redden. “I… well… um. I didn’t know what to wear this morning.”

“I would have gone with clothes, but I understand that some people are fussier than others.”

“I wanted to look nice.”

“You always look nice.”

“I thought that I always looked satisfactory.”

Ethan cut two pieces of cake and added them to the tray with the coffees.

“I thought we could take these into the bedroom. If that would be satisfactory to you?”

She nodded and he carried the tray to the bedroom and set it down on the bed. He flipped a switch causing the gas fireplace to spring to life. Charley picked up her cake and snuggled back against Ethan. “I like the fireplace here.”

“I don’t often use it.”

“Why tonight?”

“Must be the company I’m keeping.”

Charley turned and straddled his lap. “You better be careful. This company could end up corrupting you.”

“I look forward to it, if that’s the case.” Ethan rolled her unto her back.

Several hours later, Charley looked at the clock. “I should go home. I have to work tomorrow and my boss can be tough if I’m late.”

“If you stay with me, I’ll be sure you’re not late,” Ethan buried his head in her neck.

“I don’t have clean clothes for tomorrow.”

“You can either grab some scrubs from the locker room or ask your roommate to bring something for you.” Ethan pointed to his dresser. “I cleared both of the bottom drawers for you, if you want them.”

Charley chewed on her bottom lip. “You knew what the outcome of our talk was going to be before we actually talked today. When did you decide you wanted-”

“The night of the softball game, when I kissed you.”

Charley stared at him. “Then why did you keep putting me off when I wanted to talk?”

“Because I kept coming up with all the reasons why we shouldn’t be together. And I decided not to do that anymore. I’m tired of avoiding whatever it is we have.”

“Why do I get the two bottom drawers?”

“You’re shorter than me!” He indicates the drawer on the right. “You actually do have clean clothes in there. What you wore when we went to my dads. You at least have something to wear to the hospital.” Ethan watched her. “Any other concerns for tonight?”

“Do you have an extra toothbrush?”

Ethan shrugged. “Yes, but it’s one of the standard ones dentists hand out. It should be fine until we can get you one to keep here.”

Charley put her head on his pillow. “Then I can’t think of a single reason to get out of the warm bed right now.”

He turned off the light and slipped under the covers with her. “Neither can I.”

Tag list (if you want to be on or off let me know) @oofchoices @openheart12​  @jamespotterthefirst​  @ohchoices​  @catchinglikekeronsene  @aylamreads​  @nerdydinosaursweets​  @eramsey28​  @txemrn​  @starrystarrytrouble​  @queencarb​  @thegreentwin​  @lion-ess24​  @caseyvalentineramsey​  

@choicesficwriterscreations​  @choicesweeklychallenge​  

[allsassnoclass]

hiii hazel, would love to see you take on "hi we're neighbors and omg are you alright I could smell (cooking) burning- whoaaa now that's embarrassing? step aside I'll handle this" with Lashton? or anyone with Luke tbh this is a Luke thing to me 💜

alrighty here you go! Luke being a bad cook is something that I try to include in fics as often as possible so this was fun

The hallway smells.

That's not completely unusual, because the apartment complex has a bunch of different people living in close proximity and inevitably some of them will like cooking or use too much air freshener or smoke weed, not to mention that the building itself isn't always scentless, either.  Ashton has been here long enough that he typically barely notices when he gets back from work.

Still, the hallway doesn't usually smell so strongly like burnt food, and he can't typically hear the sounds of someone swearing and fretting over their ruined dish coming from the door across from his.

That apartment belongs to a guy named Luke.  He's devastatingly pretty and owns a dog but otherwise lives alone.  That's the only information Ashton has managed to learn about him in their short time as neighbors, despite how much the first fact intrigues him.

More swearing comes from behind the door, then it's being thrown open, a little bit of smoke vapor trailing into the hallway.

Luke still looks devastatingly pretty, but in a much messier way than usual.  The top half of his hair is pulled back haphazardly in a scrunchy, the rest of it curling frantically around his neck and chin.  There's flour or a similar white substance smeared across his shirt (broad chest!!! Ashton's inner voice says), and something darker is smeared on his forehead.  He has two oven mitts covering his hands, and they need to be washed.

"Oh," Luke says, spotting him.  His face is red, but Ashton can't tell if it's from embarrassment or because he's been leaning over a hot pan or oven for too long.  "Sorry.  I didn't want to set off the smoke alarm.  There's no fire, don't worry."

"I wasn't," Ashton says.  "I could smell the cooking."

Luke laughs bitterly.  "You mean burning."

"What are you making?" he asks.  Luke leans against the doorframe, taking off the oven mitts and frowning at something dried onto them.

"I was trying to make quiche.  I have friends coming over and they keep saying that I can't cook.  I was trying to prove them wrong."

"Wow," Ashton whistles.  "Quiche can be hard.  Don't feel bad about messing it up."

"Okay, but I still have to face them when we eat take out instead of the home-cooked meal I promised."

"Can you make something else?" he asks.  Luke sighs, heavy like it's being dragged up from deep inside him.  He's pouting now, and something about a pretty boy pouting is making Ashton feel a little weak at the knees.

"I could help, if you want.  I'm a great cook."

Luke bites his lip for a moment, chewing at the corner.

"No, you have other stuff to do," he says eventually.

"Not really," Ashton says lightly.  "Seriously, I like cooking, and I'd feel better about the fire alarm if you weren't attempting to do it alone."

Thankfully, the joke makes Luke snort instead of falling flat.  Ashton watches his internal debate play out across his face with bated breath.

"Okay," Luke says.  "Thanks.  I need all the help I can get."

Luke's apartment is a mirror of his own, complete with a cluttered side tables by his futon in the living room.  The biggest difference is that there are dog toys scattered across the floor, squeaking when he accidentally steps on one.  The dog they belong to looks up from where she's laying in the corner, but otherwise makes no other noise or movements.  He wouldn't have even noticed her if her collar hadn't jingled.

"That's Petunia," Luke says.  "Piggy, this is Ashton from across the hall.  Be nice."

Petunia lays back down.  He'd be more offended over being dismissed by a dog if he wasn't fully focused on looking at the pictures Luke has on his walls, trying to spot if a significant other is present.

None of them look particularly romantic.  Interesting.

"How long until your friends arrive?" Ashton asks, following Luke to the kitchen.

"Half an hour.  I can delay them a little if I need to."

"What ingredients do you have?"

"Um, not much," Luke says.  "Cal is a vegetarian, so we can't use any meat."

"Pasta then?" Ashton asks.  "It's relatively easy but will still taste good.  We can add some stuff to the sauce, make it a little heartier."

"Sure," Luke says.  "I might have some garlic toast in the freezer, too."

He opens a cupboard, rifling around and pulling out a box of rotini from behind all the open boxes of cereal.  Ashton takes the opportunity to look at how his shirt stretches over his back, hugging his shoulders and ribs.

"I don't know if I have sauce," Luke says, breaking Ashton's trance.

"That's okay, we can make some.  I have canned crushed tomatoes, then we just throw some spices and garlic and maybe vegetables in there and it'll be fine."

"Sure, whatever you say.  I'm at your mercy here."

Luke leans against the counter, looking up at Ashton from under his eyelashes.  Ashton swallows.

"I'll nose around your spices then get the tomatoes," he says.  "You should put the water to boil."

He takes the time in his own apartment to try to compose himself.  He takes a few deep breaths, then checks his hair in his phone camera to be sure it doesn't look like shit.  He grabs the tomatoes and some mushrooms then heads back to Luke's apartment to be the cooking hero he needs right now.

Luke isn't an awful cook, but it quickly becomes clear that he's inexperienced and easily distracted.  Ashton doesn't exactly want to let him near more knives than necessary, but having him slice half a bell pepper and some mushrooms is safer than asking him to mince the garlic.

"Wow, that smells really good," Luke says, craning his head to see the pan where the garlic is cooking in a little bit of oil.

"Eyes on the knife, Luke," he commands.  "Don't cut off your finger, please."

Luke flushes and resumes his cutting.  Ashton gets a can opener and starts working on the tomatoes.

"So, you cook a lot?" Luke asks.

"Yeah, I guess," Ashton says.  "I used to make dinner for my siblings a lot, and I figure if I have to eat I might as well make things that taste good."

"I'm not good at teaching myself," Luke says.  "Nothing I try works."

"If you ever need a cooking tutor, I'm your guy," he offers.  "My rates are very cheap.  For someone as pretty as you, I'd do it for free."

Something clatters and Ashton considers that maybe he should have waited until Luke wasn't holding a knife to start being forward.  A quick glance over reveals that there's no bloodshed, thankfully.

"I'm sure I could find some way to pay you back," Luke says.  "I have many other talents."

"Oh?  Like what?"

"You'll have to stick around to find out."  Luke winks at him, cocking his hip a little.  Ashton feels a thrill  flourish in his gut.

"Ashton, the water's boiling."

Right, cooking.  Ashton is cooking right now, not only flirting with a cute boy.

The pasta goes in the water with a timer set, the garlic toast goes in the oven, and the vegetables and some basil go in the sauce.  Ashton and Luke move around each other easily except a few moments of contact like the brush of an arm or a hand ghosting over the small of a back, too purposeful to be coincidence.  It sets the hair of Ashton's arms on end.  The fill the time with more conversation, both small talk and a little flirting that Luke picks up and returns.  Ashton is so wrapped up in Luke and their food that the sound of the buzzer makes him jump.

"That'll be Michael and Calum," Luke says right as the timer for the pasta and the one for the sauce go off.

"Buzz them up, I'll take care of this," he says.  He turns off the stove and drains the pasta, putting it back in the pot and tossing the sauce in.  He's taking the garlic toast out of the oven when the door to Luke's apartment opens with a bang.

"Did you set off the smoke alarm?" one of the guys in the doorway says loudly while Petunia trots over to snuffle at their feet.

"Fuck off, Michael," Luke says.  "You're not going to get any if you keep insulting me."

The other man finishes petting Petunia and makes eye contact with Ashton, slapping his companion on the arm.

"Who's your friend, Luke?" he asks.

"This is Ashton," Luke says, coming to stand by him.  "He's going to teach me how to cook."

"Oh,this is Ashton," Michael says.  "Interesting."

"I'm Calum, he's Michael," the other man says.

"Nice to meet you," Ashton says.  "I should get going."

"Woah, wait," Michael says.  "You aren't going to stay for dinner?"

"Well--"

"Stay for dinner!" Calum says.  "Looks like there's enough food.  We've heard about you, but I think we should know Luke's cooking teacher."

He says "cooking teacher" with a waggle of his eyebrows.  Ashton wants to know what Luke could possibly have said about him before today.

"Calum," Luke hisses.

"Stay for dinner, Ashton," Michael says.  Ashton looks at Luke, who smiles slightly.

"Only if you want."

"Do you want me to?" he asks.  Luke smiles again, much too bashful for someone who was so confident while they were cooking, and nods.

"Okay," he says.  Michael and Calum cheer, but Ashton is more focused on how pleased Luke seems, tugging Ashton towards the table with a hand on his arm.

Sitting down to eat, Ashton hopes this is going to be the first of many meals together.

[fanficshiddles]

Predator to Prey, Chapter 10

When Loki returned inside after fighting off the four men, Akelia was still waiting on the sofa. He wasn’t sure what was wrong with him but he found his heart melting at the sight of her.

She was so adorably cute, for a mortal, curled up in his cape. Compared to the fierce and strong wolf side of her. It was like she had turned from predator to prey. He grinned to himself, realising that he was now the predator in comparison.

‘Are you hungry?’ Loki asked.

Akelia raised an eyebrow at him. ‘Yeah… But I’m not eating those guys.’

Loki threw his head back, laughing. ‘I thought not. Though your wolf wasn’t complaining before.’ He grinned.

She shrugged. ‘Meat is meat to a wolf. I’d been one for so long that as long as meat was cooked, I didn’t really mind.’

‘Wolves don’t tend to eat cooked meat.’ Loki commented as he went to the kitchen to get something sorted for them both.

Akelia wandered over, the cape tightly wrapped around her. ‘I know. I still preferred cooked meat to raw, but needs must if there was no other option.’

‘Ah, then you found Loki the sucker. Who would cook every meal for a wolf.’ He teased.

‘Pretty much.’ She smiled. ‘Can I uh… Can I get some clothes? Since it seems you’re not going to let me turn back into a wolf for a while.’

Loki chuckled. ‘Sure, go have a look in the wardrobe.’

When Akelia disappeared into his bedroom, he took that time to process everything that had went on in the last half an hour. He still couldn’t quite believe that she was a human. He was really annoyed that he hadn’t realised sooner. But he also felt relieved. What with his dreams of late about her… He was glad he wasn’t going mad for falling in love with a wolf. Not that he would have allowed himself to do so, not in that kind of way.

He was almost finished cooking some eggs and bacon when Akelia came out of the bedroom wearing one of his green shirts, it was far too big for her. And she was wearing a pair of his boxers that was like big shorts on her, she was quite short for a human never mind in comparison to a male God.

Yet he found himself staring at her for longer than he should have…

‘Is it alright that I wear these?’ She asked, unsure what to think of the way he was looking at her so intently.

‘Of course.’ He said, clearing his throat. ‘I will get some proper clothes for you soon.’

‘Thanks… But I uh, I don’t really need them.’

‘What do you mean?’ Loki frowned, turning the cooker off so their food wouldn’t burn.

‘Well, I’m not staying like this.’ She shrugged. ‘It’s not really me anymore.’

Loki leaned back against the counter and folded his arms over his chest. ‘I don’t mind you being a wolf at times, but you are not living here as a wolf twenty-four seven.’ He said firmly. ‘I know you’re a smart wolf, but it would be nice to have proper conversation most of the time.’

Akelia looked a bit startled at that.

‘You… You want me to stay here?’ She asked, eyes widening.

Loki frowned. ‘Of course. I’m not going to chuck you out. This is your home now, too. It has been for a while now.’

Akelia felt warmed at that.

The two sat down at the table to eat. Akelia found it weird eating as a human again, it took her a few minutes to get used to using cutlery.

‘I forgot how weird it is eating like this. A wolf’s teeth can slice through most things so easily, my jaw is hurting from actually having to chew!’ She said, shaking her head.

Loki chuckled. ‘I can imagine. How long has it been then, that you’ve lived as a wolf?’

Akelia wiped her mouth with a napkin and sat back on the chair, thinking.

‘I think it’s been around eighteen months.’

Loki’s eyebrows shot up. He didn’t think it would have been that long. ‘Wow, that is quite some time.’

‘I know. So I apologise in advance if I’ve forgotten how to be… human.’ She smiled at him.

‘I’m sure we will manage.’ He grinned back at her.

After finishing their food, Loki went to chop some logs for the fireplace while Akelia went for a bath. That was one thing she had missed when being a wolf for so long.

She took her time in the tub, enjoying the warm water against her skin. But her mind was racing with so many thoughts. Would Loki truly want her to stay here with him? What did that mean?

But one thing they’d both forgotten about, was the sacrifices…

Akelia was not long out of the bath, Loki was back inside, when they saw a young woman coming down into the clearing. Slowly and timidly.

Loki looked at Akelia, she was staring straight ahead out the window. Loki couldn’t read her face though, not sure what to think.

‘Change me back.’ Akelia said.

‘What?’

‘Change me back. Please. I don’t want to be around others in this form.’ She said in a hurry, pleading Loki with her eyes. Somehow still managing puppy dog eyes at him.

Loki ran his hand down his face. Glancing out the window, he saw the woman getting closer to the cottage.

‘Alright.’ He agreed and flicked his wrist, green shimmered around Akelia and she changed back into the wolf that Loki had come to know so well.

Loki wasn’t sure what to do. He was a bit conflicted. Whilst he was looking forward to having sex, toying with the sacrifice, he wasn’t sure if he actually wanted anyone else now…

He snapped out of his thoughts when there was a low knock on the door. Loki changed into his Jotun form. He knew how Akelia felt not wanting some people to see certain sides of you…

Akelia growled low and went over to lie on the sofa, watching the door intently as Loki went to answer.

There was the usual shriek of surprise from the woman seeing the frost giant answer the door. He grinned wickedly and grabbed her arm, hauling her inside before she changed her mind and tried to run.

The woman didn’t notice the big wolf lounging on the sofa as she was dragged straight through to the bedroom. Loki didn’t say a word to the woman, he just got straight to it. Instead of tearing her clothes off like he usually would, he took them off in a hurry but was careful not to ruin them. He tossed them to the side of the room, out of the way. Then he pushed the woman down onto the bed and started ravaging her.

Akelia quietly slipped into the bedroom once she heard pleas and cries from the woman, begging Loki to stop. He had her pinned down and was fucking her hard from behind.

Loki noticed Akelia walk in. He forced the woman’s head right down into the bed, so she wouldn’t see the wolf. Akelia lay down on her bed, eyes locked on Loki.

He found he couldn’t look away from her. Her eyes were just the same as when she was human, such a beautiful blue. He was in a trance as he fucked the woman beneath him.

‘Stop… please!’ The woman begged, her voice muffled in the blanket. But Loki ignored her and became even rougher, slamming into her with every thrust.

Akelia was still just watching, eyes on Loki the entire time…

Loki gripped her hair tightly and yanked her head up, forcing her to crane her neck painfully. But that’s when she saw the wolf and let out a scream.

Loki laughed wickedly and thrust into her hard, bumping against her cervix painfully. He then forced her head back down again and thrust once more before cumming inside her. As he moaned out loud, Akelia’s ears twitched at the sound.

He was breathing hard as he rolled off the woman and collapsed. She scrambled up as quickly as possible and made a move to grab her clothes.

‘Leave them!’ Loki barked, making her jump.

‘I… I need’

‘I said leave them!’ He snarled, getting up and moving towards her.

She took the hint and ran out of the room as quickly as she could. Akelia’s eyes briefly flickered over to her running away, then she looked back at Loki. In all of his blue magnificent glory.

Loki sat down on the bed, hearing the front door close he knew the woman was gone. No doubt running for her life back to the village.

‘Do you want turned back?’ He asked, looking over at Akelia, preparing his Seidr.

But Akelia had turned away from him and curled up, head down.

Loki sighed and fell backwards on the bed, rubbing his face. Even though he had cum, he still didn’t feel satisfied like he normally did…

[curly-bangtan]

A Drop of Heaven II: Doll

[Series Masterlist]

Pairing: ot7 x reader // this chapter: Seokjin x reader, some Taehyung x reader

Series summary: Seven vampires have secretly been roaming the darks of your world for millennia. Each brother selects a Feed who becomes supernaturally bound to him, whose blood will be fed on until their inevitable mortal death. They have spent their eternity hunting for the exorbitant rarity that is angel blood - the most heavenly of food for vampires that fuel them with desire, lust and satiety. So what happens when they all find you, the first angel-blooded being they’ve encountered in two centuries?

Genre: vampire au, poly au, smut, angst, enemies to lovers (e2l)

Warnings in this chapter: blood drinking, mentions of abuse, obv blood and gore, kind subtle baby girl fetish?? oc has trust issues

Word count: 9k

A/N: This took me so much effort to write for some reason… SIGH I feel like it’s shit and disappointing cos it contains filler info that’s necessary for plot building. As for the lack of _smut_ (which ik is what y’all filthy animals are here for), I promise the next chapter will make up for it!!

[prelude, i, ii, iii, iv, v, vi, vii, epilogue]

❦

“Here you go.”

The clang of the white floral-embossed porcelain dish against the glass surface of the dining table sounds particularly crisp to you ear. The fresh pungent seafood smell infiltrating your nostrils, strong and unmistakable, answering your gurgling stomach.

“Lobster truffle tagliatelle.”

You stare, gobsmacked, at the melon-sized plate of pasta placed in front of you. It’s been so long, so long, since you’ve had a remotely satiating meal. Eyes and mouth watering from the delicious scent, you almost don’t know where to start digging in.

“T-Thank you.” You remember to say, though it comes out as a stammer. The corner of Seokjin’s pursed lips turn up slightly, enough for it to count as a smile.

Fork in your hand trembling in excitement, you impale a large chunk of fresh juicy lobster and twirl a good portion of pasta around it. When the flavour touches your tongue, a grenade of bliss detonates in your mouth, flooding up to awaken the pockets of happiness in your mind that have laid dormant for a while. You can’t help the groan of pleasure that escapes almost indecently.

You stop mid-groan when you remember your whereabouts and present company.

“This is amazing. Thank you for cooking for me.” Clearing your throat, you thank Seokjin again. As you glance up at him, you notice the blush creeping on not his cheeks, but his ears. In any other circumstances, you would find it endearing.

“You’re welcome, it’s my pleasure.” He has a habit of not meeting your eye when he speaks to you, it hasn’t taken you even a day to notice, as his attention currently fixes on a particularly large blotch of oil stain on his cooking apron. “I… enjoy cooking.”

.

After the happenings yesterday, the taste of Namjoon’s blood still tingling the buds of your tongue, you have been trying to steer your mind away from him. You had learnt that vampires sleep during the day, while staying active at night. It had been Monday morning when Namjoon left you in the room after… that thing, and you haven’t seen him emerge from his room since, not even in the evening when he was supposed to be awake.

Good, you don’t want to even remotely think about that. Or him.

You hope you won’t have to encounter him again for the rest of the week now that your day with him is over. That sire bond magic… The memory of the carnal compulsion throbbing in your head and chest makes you shiver.

Is that going to happen with all of them? Because if so, you don’t know how long you can keep hold of your sanity.

So for the rest of the day yesterday, in the absence of your sire to dictate you around in his obnoxiously stern voice, you took it upon yourself to explore the manor and try find out more about this predicament you’re caged in. You made it not ten steps out your room in the eerie candle lit hallway when you stumbled across Hoseok. No, stumbling across is perhaps not the correct term. You have a feeling he had been lurking around, waiting for you.

In your weak-willed confuzzled state from the fixing of the sire bond, you could all but refuse to let him take you on a grand tour around the maze of a mansion the seven of them inhabit. Hoseok had leaped at your response, so enthusiastic, resembling a child receiving a brand new toy he had been begging his parents for.

Despite his constant unfailing smile, there is something quite uncanny about the red-haired vampire. If you look at him for long enough, you can spot the smallest spark of madness behind the glaze of his eyes.

Still, regardless of your hunch, you allowed him to tug on your freshly healed wrist after him. Last time you defied Namjoon, that happened. You didn’t dare to seek the repercussions of challenging another vampire, especially one appearing as eccentric as Hoseok.

Stunning is perhaps too little a word to describe this estate - this is a place of fairytales. Two stories high, a garden the size of a park, a swimming pool to supplement the natural rock pools and ponds, a fertile greenhouse, a library fit for royalty, an underground gym next door to the cinematic movie room… Almost all the facilities one would find in a town located under a single roof. On the second floor are the seven bedrooms, and though Hoseok didn’t take you into any of them, he explained that they are all ensuite and connected to another private room.

“It’s called the Feed room, where the Feed of each vampire resides. The room you were in earlier was Namjoon-hyung’s, his bedroom which he doesn’t allow his Feeds in is through the door opposite the bed.” The door through which he had fled, you had noted in your head. “We don’t normally enter each other’s Feed rooms - it’s disrespectful, invasion of an extremely intimate space.”

No wonder Namjoon had been so displeased with Jimin.

“I guess how it will work now that all seven of us are sharing you,” Hoseok continued. A muscle in your throat twitched at ‘sharing you’. “Is that at the end of every day at midnight, you will rotate to the next Feed room where whoever awaits you. Kinda like… speed dating, but with feeding, and minus the speed ‘cause it lasts a whole day, and also it’s a perpetual weekly cycle.” He let out a sudden burst of laughter, as if he had said something funny, but you found no humour in the situation.

A perpetual weekly cycle. For the rest of your life. Rotating between seven vampires every single day.

The malignant lump in your throat grows, suffocating you.

Hoseok paid no heed to your lacklustre reaction at his supposed joke, instead threw an arm around you and guided you down the corridor. You didn’t run into anyone else in the duration of the tour, no doubt because it was the middle of the day which meant the vampires were all fast asleep.

You wished you ran into someone, anyone, even Namjoon. The sole company of Hoseok was making you uneasy. His overt eagerness towards you, almost like a pet dog, threw you off your axes. Every time he reached out to touch you in some way, though it’s always a harmless friendly gesture, you suppress the instinct to move away.

He appears a very simple man, genuinely happy all the time, child-like cheerfulness, very easy going. But that is all the more reason to fear him. He can act like this with you now, as if you are his friend, yet will also show no mercy in drinking your blood. You still remember how fanatically impatient to feed on you he had been, practically pouncing at your collarbone once given the green light from his leader.

This gemini personality makes you unwilling to trust him one bit, regardless of his kind comical display.

As Hoseok dropped you off back at Namjoon’s Feed room to catch some rest himself, you wonder how he dared to leave you alone unattended. Surely you could sneak out while they’re all asleep and make your great escape.

You had sat at the edge of your bed plotting, deep in contemplation of whether to leave right now before it’s too late, or to earn their trust first. But what would they do if they ever found you again? Surely not kill you, they need you alive for your blood. Surely they won’t hurt you that much either, would they? But then there is also the problem of where to go. You have no home, no family apart from your uncle whose fate remains unknown, no money, no life to return to. What’s the point of escaping then? At least here, you serve a purpose, have a roof over your head and food cooked for you.

Though the harder you thought, the more a heavy exhaustion fell over you. Your daily routine would now have to be synchronised with these vampires, you would have to sleep during the day so you could be awake for them to feed on at night.

You fell asleep wondering whether it was the sire bond lulling you to slumber, among other things in you that it has control over which you do not know of yet.

.

“You enjoy cooking?” You ask curiously after chewing your enormous bite. “So vampires eat regular human food too?”

Seokjin pulls out the chair in front of you at the clothed banquet table and takes a seat. “Well, not really. I guess it’s just me. I find cooking kind of therapeutic and calming in a way, and even though it doesn’t satisfy my hunger, I might as well eat what I’ve cooked rather than let it go to waste. The taste took some time to get used to, human food tasted so strange at first, but I’ve learnt how to appreciate it now… You know?” As he speaks, his finger traces the gold embroidery on the black tablecloth. You oddly want him to look up and meet your eye, but he doesn’t.

You decide that you like Seokjin.

He possesses a soft, shy, delicate quality to him, and unlike anyone else you can tell with certainty that it isn’t a deceitful facade. He is almost very… normal. Namjoon, Jimin, Hoseok, you can believe to be vampires. Whereas with Seokjin, you can’t seem to comprehend.

“Well, you’re a great chef.” It is intriguing, peculiar, how he shows such interest in something as mundane as cooking. He has an eternity to live, yet he chooses to explore the food of mortals as his hobby. But judging by the way you had watched him cook, you suppose culinary skill is more of an art to him. You don’t know why you find that rather cute.

“Thank you.” He mumbles, finally glancing up to check your face only to quickly look back down at his hands when your eyes meet.

When the clock struck twelve at midnight, marking the start of a new day - Tuesday, your day with Seokjin, you woke up with a clearer mind. You would stay here, at least for a while longer, get a feel of this lifestyle, perhaps learn some of their secrets first before making the decision of whether to run away.

You hadn’t bother letting Namjoon know as you made your way to Seokjin’s Feed room. The place is significantly different from Namjoon’s; clean, creamy white, and a gold wardrobe full of laced garments. Very feminine. A note sitting on the pristine dresser wrote:

Good evening.

Please dress in the attire I’ve selected for you found in the wardrobe. If you have any problems, you are welcome to knock on my door to seek help.

- Seokjin

Already, you had taken a preference to him at that point. He seems polite, respectful, the opposite of Namjoon’s imposing rules.

“Why don’t you have some of the pasta? Not hungry?” You smooth over the crease of your ivory dress. It is very finely made, you don’t require an expert eye to be able to recognise; not only this but every piece of clothing in his closet for you. Where did they get all this money?

“Um, I…”

When his sentence fizzles out, you realise your mistake. Your ‘hungry’ is different from his ‘hungry’. He eats food for pleasure, not out of hunger; his thirst is only satisfied through drinking blood, of course. You feel stupid.

“Or… Thirsty?” Placing your silver fork down leaning against the plate, you wipe your mouth with a napkin.

Seokjin physically goes rigid, more so than before. “N-No, I’m fine.” The fabric of the tablecloth bunches up under his fist before he lets it loose. His lips are pursed tensely, rounding his spotless cheeks.

Somehow you aren’t convinced; he hadn’t said it with much conviction. But why conceal his thirst? For once, a part of you wishes for him to feed on you. Seokjin may be your only amicable ally in this house, your only way out even. Bridging the gap between the two of you could be of more use in the future than what you can imagine currently. Furthermore, despite yourself, you feel a sort of empathy towards him. No, maybe empathy isn’t the right word; it’s more like you see a potential of a friendship between the two of you, and you would like to understand him better.

The difference in your mood when you are with him compared to the others is quite drastic, you’ve noticed. You don’t feel bitter or defiant like with Namjoon, hesitant and timid like with Jimin, nor fearful and subdued like with Hoseok. You are at ease, his presence almost calms you though you can’t quite put your finger on the root of it. Perhaps it is because he is the only person thus far who you sense complete genuinity and even guilt from.

But you don’t push it. If he doesn’t insist on feeding, then he has his reasons. It just adds to his intrigue.

A silence falls over the both of you, with you preoccupied with your meal, which you don’t know whether to call it your lunch or dinner see as it is currently the middle of the night. Seokjin gathers himself and straightens, watching you devour his signature dish. He had woken up at the crack of dusk, just as the sunlight was trickling away into evening, to buy the lobster fresh from his well-acquainted vendor by the pier. It is always a nuisance to try to go unnoticed outside; he much prefers staying at home and avoiding the curious breed that is mankind. But he wanted to not only make you feel welcome, but also to impress you. Though you don’t need to know that.

Seokjin is sure your night with Namjoon could not have been a pleasant one. He has scolded his younger brother many-a-times before about being more lenient with his Feeds, but he is a stubborn self-righteous man. Seokjin knows he shouldn’t have but he couldn’t help but listen in on your argument with him, he blames it on the heightened hearing. Though, Namjoon’s Feed room quickly went very silent apart from a few whimpers, which he presumed was because he resorted to feeding to suppress you.

“So… I know this must not be great for you, it usually takes Feeds a while to accept and get used to their new life, but how are you coping with every?” You are surprised to find him meeting your eye and instigating such conversation. He knows he is shy, yet he is trying. At this rate, you will grow fond of him.

“Well.” You unconsciously pat your bloated belly, unaccustomed to having a full stomach; no matter how much you want to finish this glorious plate of pasta, you physically don’t think you can take another bite. “I think ‘not great’ is a slight understatement.” When he winces, you quickly retract your sour tone. “It’s just… a lot to take in. It is overwhelming, really, to be almost plucked out and inserted into a completely different world like I’m some character in a game. The whole supernatural magic thing, the sire bond, the blood drinking. I’m still trying to process it.”

“Of course, I understand that. Trust me, if I could have it any other way, I would.” There is a hint of melancholy in his voice, and his eyes seem to drift to a distant past that you wish to see too. “I guess it doesn’t help that we are all very different vampires fundamentally, with completely different methods of action.”

“Yes, I mean I have spent one day with Namjoon, and only have just briefly spoken to you, Jimin and Hoseok so I can hardly pass a solid judgement, but I can already sense your dissimilarities.”

“How was Namjoon by the way? Harsh, I imagine?” His gaze travels to your wrists, which you note he has been doing subconsciously quite often. Is it out of thirst? Or is it out of concern on whether you were mistreated?

“Namjoon-” Your heart lurches just from saying his name, and the coil that has loosened itself since the last time you thought about your debauchery begins to wind again. “Yeah, harsh.”

“You will have to forgive him. He is… particular about his ways, very set on regulations and discipline. To him, there is a very well-defined line between Feed, and everyone else. Though the rest of us are usually at least friendly with ours, he has always kept it a strict predator-prey relationship with his Feeds. He does not speak to them if not needed, does not see them unless it is to feed, does not allow himself to even converse with them lest they overstep the boundaries he sets. It is an obsolete way to live, as a vampire, yet flexibility and adaptability are not words that agree with Namjoon’s fundaments.”

That explains so much about Namjoon as a person. Perhaps he fears attachment and intimacy with one that he is supposed to view as no more than food.

“Right.” You ponder aloud, perplexed. “I guess I could understand that perspective. Tell me more, about all of you.” This insight into their characters is not only fascinating but is also such useful information, whoever you need to use it against in the future.

Seokjin hesitates, as if unsure he whether he is at liberty to reveal more. But to your relief, he continues.

“Yoongi, you really need to be careful with. I shouldn’t speak ill of him as his brother, but his methods with his Feed are… extremely questionable. A Feed usually lasts us a decade or more; Yoongi can drain his Feeds to death in weeks, even after healing them. The problem isn’t his thirst nor his self-control, it is his lack of empathy, his cruelty. The way he treats his Feeds are… inhumane. We aren’t human but we at least try to act civil, yet Yoongi embraces our nature as demons in its entirety. He doesn’t even try to act like he is more than the monsters we are. He is a sadist, loves to inflict pain, to crush pretty things in his fist...”

Your breath hitches. You had sensed his darkness from the moment you laid your eyes on him when you woke up to them surrounding your bed. He drains his Feeds in weeks? There is no way you’ll survive Yoongi alone, never mind all seven of them.

“And what day am I with him again?” Staring at your half empty plate, you feel your blood draining from your head. Even his own brother admits that he is a monster, you can’t begin to imagine what he will actually be like with you.

“Wednesday, tomorrow.”

It’s like being shoved down a great chasm. The pure dread dripping like acid down your throat as your heart sinks.

You thought Namjoon was bad, but somehow the thought of being bossed around by him sounds extremely pleasant compared to being with Yoongi. And you are going to be alone in his Feed room as well... With no one to stop him to hurt you however he wants… Surely someone will step in if he takes it too far right? Surely, now that they are sharing a Feed? Please?

Flashbacks to your uncle’s fist connecting to your temple flare in your mind, the way he would smile every time he drew blood as if it were some sort of achievement. But you’ve been tortured before. You’ve had it all.

Don’t be scared. Don’t be scared.

You’ve had it all.

You’ve suffered and survived. You can suffer and survive again.

When Seokjin notices the slight trembling at your throat, how your eyes are frozen and glazed over as if in a trance, he quickly says, “Look, don’t worry, Y/N. If he takes anything too far, seriously harms you in anyway, let me know and I will make him stop.”

You blink at Seokjin. And wonder quietly how someone as soft-spoken and gentle as him could command a devilish psychopath. You appreciate the offer, you trust his kindness, you just don’t believe he would be capable of stopping his brother from doing what he wishes if Yoongi with you is as he described.

“Why is he like this..?” Why are there men like him and your uncle? And why can you never escape them?

“He…” Seokjin sighs. “Yoongi was not always like this. We have lived for a really long time, have been through a lot of misery that we all cope with in our own ways. The Yoongi I knew two millennia ago is still in this husk of a man, deep down. He thinks detaching from his emotions, creating this evil persona of himself is the only way he can continue living for eternity. We’ve all tried to help him, trust me, we have. It’s heartbreaking to see someone you love-”

His voice catches in his throat, and you glance up at his face, beautifully contorted in such a candor pain, plump bottom lip jutted out. You pity him. It is torturous to love a monster, worse for immortals.

“I understand it must be.” You quietly say, unsure of how to console him. These vampires, the complexity and depth of their issues are nothing you can ever relate to. You can offer no advice except your sympathy.

You try not to think about how your encounter with Yoongi, the creature so sick and twisted that it broke his brothers’ hearts, is tomorrow. You hate him already.

Desperate to wipe off the sorrow in Seokjin’s features that constricts your heart, you swiftly change the topic. “Tell me about your other brothers. Hoseok? Jimin? Taehyung?”

Seokjin’s eyes widen, as if awoken from deep thought, a redness tinting his face as if embarrassed from the vulnerability he accidentally displayed. “Right.” After clearing throat, his voice resumes its stability. “I guess you should also be careful around Hoseok; he is rather wild and unpredictable, sort of takes everything with a dash of humour, but is also the one with the worst self-control out of us all. He’s impatient and childish, hasn’t really seem to have grown out of his teenage mentality even after two thousand years.”

Just as you predicted. You gulp. This is an improvement from Yoongi, but so is everything. Is that really the standard you’re measuring against now? Seokjin sees the concern in your expression.

“But-” he quickly says, “his intentions are never malicious in any form. I can’t stress enough that he is really just a child at heart who wants to find light in every situation, so don’t let his moods scare you.”

“He does seem… rather odd.” Borderline lunatic, but that would be too rude to call him to his brother. Maybe you are being rude and quick to judge. When did you become like this?

To your surprise, Seokjin lets out a chuckle. You watch his eyes crease in genuine humour, a sight that makes you smile without reason. “Yes, he is very odd. But you will grow to appreciate or even like his personality. Truly brightens your day.”

Oh? You can’t say you believe him. So far, with the exception of Seokjin maybe, you don’t trust any of these vampires. You don’t see yourself ever letting your guard down around them in the future.

“Now Jimin, he wears his heart on his sleeve - very affectionate and loving with his Feeds, almost the polar opposite from Yoongi. He only sires females, and more times than not he falls in love with them. Actually, forget more times than not, I mean every time.”

That both surprises and doesn’t surprise you. It surprises you because it means that tenderness he had shown towards you had not been false afterall. Yet it doesn’t surprise you because in your heart you had believed him when he said he values and respects you, and those emotive eyes of his cannot lie.

Does this also means he will fall in love with you?

You don’t know how to feel. It is oxymoronic to you, for his prey to also be his lover. But what scares you is that, if the sire bond had caused such a drastic change in the dynamic between you and Namjoon, you can only imagine how strongly it will hit a romantic dreamer like Jimin.

And you. Will you fall in love with him too?

“That surely isn’t wise; he must get devastated when his Feeds… pass away.” You ask, and Seokjin’s shrug conveys the same lack of understanding for his brother’s ways as you.

“His coping mechanism is to find a new Feed to fall in love with as quick as possible, find someone to replace that void in his heart. I can sympathise with the appeal of love, we have lived for so long, it gets lonely for someone as affectionate as Jimin who always seeks another half.” At the word lonely, your eyes meet, and for a second you swear you can feel Seokjin resonating with the feeling.

You get the urge to reach out to hold his hand across the table and tell him that he isn’t alone now, though you don’t know why. But you just stare at his creamy unblemished skin and reply, “Oh.”

It shocks you, the urge of emotions you sometimes feel for this man before you, despite knowing him for not a week. You truly, truly want to comfort him. He seems so pure, so undeserving of the title of a vampire. Confusion whirls in your mind.

“As for Taehyung. Oh, Taehyung…” Seokjin sighs in a way that instantly makes you even more interested in the boy he speaks of. “He has many layers to him that will slowly be peeled to reveal a heart of gold, but first you need to endure his mystery and mischief. He may appear unreadable and confusing at first - he’s always had this strange duality to him, but in the end he forms such deep bonds with his Feeds. He is very picky when selecting his Feed, it takes him the longest time to choose one as his taste buds are peculiar and he always assesses the person as a whole rather than settling for any blood.

“He likes to spoil them with riches, designer clothes, sparkling diamonds, anything they desire. Feeds are more like friends then food to him, perhaps on the other extreme from Namjoon. Not only this, he is kind to all of our Feeds too. Him and Jimin often like to share or swap Feeds, as long as one of them doesn’t get to jealous and possessive. He hides his compassion behind his rascal playfulness, but really, he grieves the loss of his Feeds the most out of us all.”

In the blur of your memory, you remember Taehyung as the blonde devilishly handsome boy who was the first to dig his fangs into you. You had been so susceptible to his charm, had leaned into his touch because you had wanted him. Now Seokjin is telling you that this boy is a deeply emotional being who treasures his Feeds as companions?

Should you perhaps not place so much trust in Seokjin? Afterall his opinion on his brothers will of course be biased. Or maybe it is your own judgement that you should doubt. You had been quick to decide on how you view these vampires with the prejudice that they are uncivilised beasts. Yet their complexities have been proven time and time again, shedding the misconceptions you had doled them in your head.

You shall reserve your judgement from now on.

“Also, he will probably ask you to be his muse.”

“Muse…?”

“Yes, Taehyung loves to paint.” Seokjin smiles down at the patterns of the tablecloth to himself with a glimmer of pride for his brother’s artistry.

“Talking about me behind my back, hyung?” A rich voice appears behind you so abruptly that you jump out of your seat, startled, your chair falling back loudly. The clang echoes up the tall walls of the dining room.

Before you can look back, you hear the newcomer effortlessly pick up the fallen chair and push it towards you until its cushioned edge hits the pits of your knees. You smell him before you see him, a fresh almost fruity scent.

“Careful there, Y/N. Can’t contain your excitement to see me?” As he whispers in your ear, an ice cold shiver runs down the course of your back, his breath tingling your skin like teasing fingers.

When you finally get the chance to fully take in his appearance, your legs almost give in and plop right down onto the chair. Some people are so stunning that every time you look at them feels like the first time, their beauty never ceases to strike at you, rendering you completely defenseless. You want to say the culprit is his eyes, but then you see the glorious arch of his nose, and Michaelangelo-painted lips. If Seokjin’s beauty is an iridescence flawlessly-round pearl, Taehyung would be the sharp vibrant amethyst glittering like an undiscovered galaxy.

His tongue swipes out to wet his lips. Something inside you screams.

“Taehyung-ah, it’s impolite to lurk around, and especially rude to intrude on a conversation that does not involve you.” Seokjin chastises, standing up as well to mirror your stance. Suddenly, he sounds quite authoritative, not dictating like Namjoon, but stern, imperious. Unlike his timid tone with you previously.

“Sorry, hyung.” Taehyung expels a childish puff of air through his nostrils and puckers his lips. “Just wanted to see our dear angel over here.”

He stares at you with such an overt desire, almost lewly, that you feel something crawl beneath your skin. You take a step back closer to the table and turn to face Seokjin, if only to save your senses from imploding.

“You may wait your turn to get to know her, like everyone else.” The older vampire states, and though irritation should be ticking his handsome visage, you find a softness in its place.

And once again, you catch a glimpse of the extensive love and tenderness Seokjin feels for his brothers despite their behaviour and his role to keep them in line as the eldest.

“I know, I know.” Taehyung doesn’t step towards you despite noticing the distance you’ve placed. From his tight jaw, you can tell that patience is perhaps not his strong suit. It is straining him. “Only wanted to say hi.” He grumbles, still pouting.

This boyish mannerism is a guise, you remind yourself, masking the sophisticated soul Seokjin was describing. But why? You don’t understand all these impostures they like to put up. Why must they exhaust themselves by constantly playing games of Hide and Seek?

“Well there you go. Y/N and I will get going now, Taehyung.” Seokjin strides around the long dining table to reach your side. As he approaches, you watch his broad shoulders swing from side to side, an irony against his gentle personality.

“Shouldn’t you wash the dishes first, hyung? Can’t leave dirty plates lying around.”

Humour does not find Seokjin’s face, but it does yours. This Taehyung is a daring one to test his brother like this. You glance over to find the same mirth glinting in his ocean blue eyes. You look back at your feet to stifle a giggle.

“I-” He lets out a resigned sigh. “Fine, I will do them right now, don’t you worry. Y/N,” you face him as he address you, and three feet away, his skin looks just as porcelain clear, “why don’t you meet me in my Feed room?”

“I’ll escort her.” Taehyung quickly chimes in.

You hear a noise of protest before you are whisked away by a large palm on the small of your back. When you turn your head back, you see Seokjin shaking his in disapproval and pushing his hair back to reveal the pale curve of his forehead. The action flusters you for some reason.

But then you are keenly aware of the vampire beside you, guiding you out the room towards the grand staircase. The pounding of your heart grows heavier, nervous, scared even. As you peek up at him, Taehyung meets your eye, that serpentine tongue sliding out again. Matching his meandering pace, the both of you walk up the stairs wordlessly. The polished rail happily meets his fingertips as he slides them along the bannister. Your mind scrambles to anticipate what he’ll do next.

At the penultimate step, he makes an abrupt halt. You take your final step onto the landing before your legs know to cease motion as well. And with one wrong turn of you foot, you make the mistake of spinning towards him.

With the height leverage, you are at eye level with each other. Nose to nose, breath to breath. You twisted so quickly out of surprise for his sudden stop that he has to catch you by your waist to prevent you from toppling onto him.

Satan...

It has to be black magic cloaking this boy because you find yourself being sucked into him no matter how lethal he appears.

“Sweet angel.” He takes in your face as if you are a work of art, and now your heart is racing. Because the way he looks at you is the way so many girls dream and dream to be regarded by beautiful men like him with even just an inkling of the longing in his eyes.

“I have turned this world upside down looking for you, you have no idea…” Slender fingers snake to the back of your hips, shooting a flaming arrow up your spine until it is tingling your scalp. You notice the subtle difference in his tone from before, more gentle, less fanatic. “And now I’ve found you. So please understand and forgive my forwardness, I really cannot contain my need for you.”

All you can do is blink at him.

“Uh…” The flattery that his words imbues in you sits in your stomach, tumbling your insides into a tight knot. The feeling of being wanted, needed...

Taehyung lightly tugs on your waist until your hips are touching. When he leans into you, you hold your breath, frozen, watching his lips near yours. But rather than meeting your own lips, they skim past the corner of your mouth, the sensation sending a hot pulse down to your core. His mouth puckers at your cheek, kissing it with a delicacy that you don’t expect from him.

You can’t tell whether the drop of your heart is from relief or disappointment that he didn’t kiss you.

If anyone had tried such an intimate gesture with you, especially a stranger you hardly know, you would’ve kicked them in the shin, or at least yell and pull away. But for some reason, you revel in the smoothness if his lips on your skin, like a cool silken handkerchief brushing against your face.

You lean in, feet digging into the wooden floor to ground yourself. Your fingers toy with the fabric of your dress to remind yourself that this is real.

His lips travel to your ear, breath tickling the sensitive microscopic hairs on your face. “You don’t have to be shy with me, okay?” His voice tunnels into your ear, like a hand reaching into you and tying up your lungs. “You don’t have to pretend not to yearn for me.”

It is a bold assumption he is making, but it is also a true one.

You do yearn for him, in more ways than you can comprehend. The fibres that make up your being goes against the logic in your brain that tells you to hate this blood-sucking demon. But the sire bond hasn’t even been set between you two yet, has it?

Taehyung takes his last step up the staircase to arrive beside you, hands not quite leaving your hips but rather falls loosely to your side. Incapable of uttering a word, you allow him to lead you along the U-shaped corridor, passing door to door that only differ by the gold initials engraved in the dark mahogany wood. Until you arrive before one with SJ - Feed carved.

“Thank you for walking me.” You say although it’s more him who is grateful for the opportunity to spend time with you.

“It’s my greatest pleasure, of course.” Dipping his head, you catch a glimpse of the most dashing of smiles that allows the tip of his fang to peak through. Are they permanently unsheathed?

In the silence that follows, you wonder about the other vampires, their current whereabouts, whether they can hear your conversation with Taehyung. It is eerily quiet, and this house is large enough for your voice to echo. Can they all overhear Taehyung’s brave advances towards you? Can Seokjin?

“I guess this is my least favourite part of our journey - parting.” Taehyung brushes a stray wisp of hair behind your ear. Then the mischief returns to his voice as he suddenly lunges and nibbles on your earlobe, fangs deliberately missing your flesh. “From now on, you will find yourself looking forward to our time together. I promise you, Saturday will soon become your favourite day of the week.”

Then he’s gone.

This vampire speed is beginning to get on your nerves. How dare they always take advantage of this ability to flee at the most convenient times?

Though it’s not like you would’ve been able to muster a response anyway. Taehyung has a talent in extracting all function from your brain.

You enter Seokjin’s Feed room and slump against the door. Truly exhausted from the interaction with such an unpredictable, intoxicating being. You actually begin to miss the older vampire, the comfort and security he provides.

It is interesting, though, how Seokjin has chosen a whole wardrobe of clothes for you. He hadn’t been insistent on you wearing them, but it’s not like there has been any provided alternative to the white-pink paletted, almost lolita-styled outfits either. You pad over the closet and swing the doors wide open from the gold knob. Today you had picked one of the plainer, more neutral white dresses, devoid of any lace unlike almost every article of clothing in this wardrobe.

So Seokjin likes lace, huh?

You pull open the underwear drawer, hand running through the rows of neatly folded panties. You imagine how flustered he must have been while folding these, and smile to yourself. Your fingers encountered a larger piece of undergarment. Hooking it out, the fabric falls open, revealing an ivory lace bodysuit dangling from your finger.

Yet what makes your eyes bulge are the suspender straps that hang from the bottom.

Oh.

Why has he chosen…

Oh?

You feel a strange sense of perversion as you line it against your body and look into the mirror. Does he wish for you to wear this? Surely not the shy Seokjin you were speaking to?

But then you look around the room and notice a very blatant preference that he has. Gold-rimmed white bed frame, pink-accented white sheets, pearl-embellished white curtains. The entire room is washed over with a pure, almost infantile aesthetic.

And when it clicks in your head, you recognise how obviously this corresponds with and reflects Seokjin’s clean appearance and virtuous nature.

Hesitant, you shed your dress and try on the body suit. To your amazement, its sheer material fits you like a second skin, hugging your body at your hips and bosom espeically. You inhale in wonder at your own reflection, marvelling how good you look in this garment.

Never have you worn anything that has made you feel remotely as sensual, as titillating.

Your appearance is an oxymoron; you look so innocent with the little bows and floral web, yet so provocative with the neckline revealing your cleavage and ass completely exposed by the thong cutting. A wave of cold hits you, and your nipples respond.

The door behind you opens.

In the mirror, your eyes meet Seokjin’s as he immediately freezes at the sight of you, one foot stepped into the room. And for a horrifying moment, your heart plunging down to earth’s core, your reflections just stare at each other. Utterly mortified.

There’s a glint in his eyes that stirs something in your stomach.

“Shit!” You shriek when you regain your awareness of the situation. Seokjin swiftly slams the door shut as he exits the room, yelling a stuttering apology from outside. You quickly dig out a pale pink sweatshirt and matching joggers, the most concealing outfit you can find, and throw it over yourself.

Your face is burning. You don’t know how you can face him again after he’s seen you in that... that sheer lacy lingerie...

A knock sounds from the door, slow and hesitant. “Um, are you… dressed?” His voice wavers.

You wait a second to get yourself together before answering, “yes.”

When he enters this time, both your eyes are fixed on the wooden floor. Seokjin’s ears are bright red, almost as vibrant as his pursed lips. His own heart is hammering, the image of you dressed in that bodysuit refusing to leave his mind. He is scolding himself for even allowing such a thing to happen. Has he no manners? How could he just barge into a lady’s room like that unannounced?

Awkwardness brews between you two until he manages to gather his voice. “I’m truly so sorry, I didn’t mean to- I didn’t think you’d be-” His breath hitches. “I-I should have knocked. I’m sorry.”

You glance up at him, cheeks still aflame, to find him frowning at his feet, so clearly screaming at himself in his head. So you say, “It’s fine. It was an accident, you didn’t know.”

Sitting yourself onto the end of the bed, you watch him stay standing by the closed door, motionless still. There is now a tension in the air, like the wall of privacy that separates you two has been breached.

“Um… You don’t have to… stand all the way there, you know?” You say to him, hoping to ease his discomfort. Hell, he seems more uncomfortable than you do.

Seokjin looks up, nods nervously and sits a meter away from you on the bed. You almost see the clockworks ticking in his brain, trying to find the words to say to you to lessen the weird atmosphere.

“I didn’t expect you this soon.” You mutter, also trying to find a way to communicate that it’s okay.

“I washed up quickly.” The image of Seokjin doing the dishes in vampire speed in fear of Taehyung trying anything on you actually spreads your lips into a grin. Your unexpected amusement surprises him, and he finds himself smiling as well.

When you look at each other, the tension begins to ebb away, the both of you starting to find humour in this stupid situation. You heart warms, and you decide in this moment that, yes, you want to grow closer with Seokjin. You haven’t had any sort of companion in a while, your sister the only exception, and though you have gotten accustomed to the solidarity, you often find yourself craving for someone who understands you, who’s always there to talk to you.

And thus far he has been nothing if not open and honest with you. Answering your questions, helping you ease into this new life.

“I want to ask you about your sixth brother.”

Seokjin blinks at you. “Jungkook?”

“Ah right, that’s his name.” There are seven vampires in this house, yet you have only really encountered six of them. That time when you had first woken up on that bed, only six of them had fed on you. You thought you had seen someone lurking in the corner of the room, yet in your delirious overwhelmed state, you hadn’t paid much attention. You haven’t met him since. “Where is he? How come I haven’t seen him at all?”

The sigh you get in response percolates your intrigue. “Jungkook doesn’t feed.”

You think you’ve misheard him at first. “Sorry?”

“Jungkook doesn’t feed.” He states with such certitude. “He drinks from blood bags only. Sundays will be your day off; I don’t suppose you’ll see much of him even then, I guess you’d be able to do whatever you wish on his days.”

Your gratitude is overshadowed by your curiosity. Why would he, a vampire, choose to drink stale blood when there is a fresh option? “Wait, how come?”

Another one of those strained sighs, like he is frustrated with his brother for being this way, but not quite. “It… isn’t really my place to tell his story. He used to feed, but all you need to know is that now he doesn’t want to anymore.”

You take this as a sign to not prod on this matter anymore, you shall seek answers elsewhere at some point. But now you’re immensely interested. What kind of story is it that he isn’t permitted to tell?

“I understand.” You nod, feigning apathy.

He seems relieved by your reply, no longer having to tread carefully around a sensitive matter. But then you ask-

“What about you, Seokjin?” His name still feels foreign on your lips, the syllables not quite coming naturally to you yet. “We’ve spoken about all your brothers, so what about you?”

Taken aback by your forwardness, he stares at you slightly dumbfounded. “I… There’s nothing much about me.”

From his eyes, you see that he isn’t lying deliberately, yet you don’t believe him. He himself just doesn’t realise his own peculiarities perhaps.

“Oh? Surely there’s something.” You glance at the wide distance across the bed between where you are sitting. You want to inch closer, it feels odd to sit so far from someone you’re speaking to.

“I mean, I like to cook, to read, to keep the house in order I guess…” His eyes trail to his knees, returning to the bashful state he was in. You don’t expect too much. You’ve just met, he isn’t going to pour his heart out to you upon your request. If he had asked you the same question, you would’ve shrivelled up into a raisin and not be able to answer either.

You’ll go about it in a different way then.

“That’s fair. But I wonder why you haven’t fed on me yet.” You cringe at your own words because it almost sounds like you are asking him to. “Isn’t the whole point of… all of this... for you guys to feed on me?”

Again, he stares at you, perplexed and kind of surprised.

“I mean… I just- Wait why do you want me to feed on you?”

“I never said that.” It’s your turn to be ruffled, your voice comes out higher pitched than you would like. “I was just wondering, like, what is my purpose if you’re not going to do what you’re keeping me here for? I just don’t understand…”

You hope he doesn’t think you do want him to feed on you. Because you don’t. You don’t.

“I just…” He sighs again. Seokjin is apparently a sigher. “I try to keep feeding to the minimal.”

“Why?”

“I don’t like the idea of it.”

A vampire is telling you he doesn’t ‘like the idea of’ drinking blood, especially the celestial blood you possess. You would’ve scoffed if it were anyone else.

“You mean, like Jungkook?” You take greater care now as you speak, not wanting to prickle any nerve. His whole demeanour has softened, reduced even. When you lean closer, hovering over the space between you, he gets startled.

“Not really, well, kind of but…” You wait patiently for him to formulate his next words, pitying his difficulty in doing so. One second. Ten seconds. Twenty. “I just hate it.

“I’ve always hated it. I hate how I have to inflict pain onto someone in order to feel satiated. I hate how good I feel when drinking someone’s blood, so good that I can’t even register their cries for help. I hate the guilt afterwards that just festers in my mind the more I look at my Feed. Everything about it is so wrong. I still remember the first time I fed one someone, how I cried and hid for days afterwards at the beast I’ve become. The others can do it so easily, so remorselessly and naturally, and I wish I could be like them but I can’t. And the worst part of it is that I’m stuck with myself for eternity, with no escape from this never-ending thirst. I hate being a vampire.”

The weight of his words land blows in your heart. Never did you even remotely expect his underlying motive to be self-loathing, and now you see clearly from his perspective. You remember the guilt flashing in his eyes when they had all fed on you days ago. To have the necessity of living be everything that you stand against must be so agonising. When you look at him again, you see him through a different lense. You understand his reservations, his sighs and stutters.

You also note how he said ‘the beast I’ve become’. Become. They were once not vampires. And that makes it more tragic because you can imagine how he misses that life.

You don’t know what else to do other than to throw your arms around him. You have never been a person of much affection, especially after how the past few years have worn you down and stripped you of anyone dear. Yet at this moment, you can think of no better way you express your sympathy and rapport.

Seokjin tips back from the impact of your embrace, looks down at your face buried in his side. He’s frozen, shocked by your action, blushed from your touch.

“You don’t hurt me.” You pull away before he has the chance to hold you back, and his chest cinches at the missed opportunity. “I’ve been hurt before. You don’t hurt me.” His beautiful features contorts in confusion, nose scrunches.

Slowly, you bring your arm up towards him as you scoot to close the distance. “Here. Just feed.”

If there’s one vampire you’d willingly let feed on you, it is the one before you right now, who had broken down crying at his first taste of blood.

“N-No!” He looks at you, bewildered, yet still so so handsome.

“Even if you don’t, someone else will. Don’t starve yourself just to save me from the pain. I’m well-acquainted with it now, trust me.”

Seokjin glares at your wrist, at your silky untainted skin, scars hidden away and buried much deeper beneath the surface. Inhale, exhale. Contemplating. Fibre by fibre caving into his temptations. He knows he has to feed sooner or later. Maybe it’s best that it’s sooner, so his appetite is less severe and the damage he inflicts is kept to the minimal.

His delicate fingers come to support your hand as he brings it close to his nose and takes a long sniff. Eyes widening, he drops your arm in an instant.

“Come on, stop worrying.” You persist.

“No, it’s not that. Give me your other wrist, this one smells like Namjoon.” It’s your turn to stop breathing. Why did he have to say his name? Now you are reminded of the way he kissed you so desperately, and how your body sang in lust for him when that sireship formed despite the protest of your logic.

But at the same time, something in your core flutters at his comment. As if Seokjin had felt an ounce of territoriality, like he doesn’t want to touch anything that his brother has.

Wordlessly you pass him your right wrist. Your eyes meet as he opens his mouth, allowing his fangs to extend. Then the familiar blackness starts to overtake his irises, dark veins running around his eyes. “Look away.” Something in his voice cracks you heart, the shame.

“No. It’s okay, Seokjin.” With the hand that isn’t held in his, you carefully cup his face to face yours, thumb softly brushing the pulsing protrusions of vessels. The darkness in his eyes holds no true darkness at all though, you see through it. He can’t and won’t hurt you. There isn’t a single drop of fear inside you. Trust.

“I’m sorry.” And with that he sinks his teeth into you.

You brace yourself for the wrenching pain, yet in its place is a violent bloom of emotion. You feel. You feel so much. You feel everything he is feeling, the guilt, the disgust, the desire to be anything but what he is. You keep feeling and feeling.

Your mind feels as though it is melting into Seokjin’s, and your eyes shut from the violence of this godly force, attempting to make sense of it all. There is a roaring in your head yet the room is silent. The bond is forming, intangible molecule by intangible molecule. The pounding in your chest mirrors his own as he takes small suppressed gulps. His essence tickles your own, much like his tongue lapping your skin.

Why isn’t this hurting?

At this thought, you begin to feel a stinging at your wrist, as if the pain is slowly being summoned my your awareness. You try not to think about it, open your eyes and try to distract yourself with the pink tussocks of his hair that have somehow found its way through your fingers. You wonder if he’s feeling the same powerful binding as you are. The way he is hunched over your wrist right now, like a little timid kitten…

Then you notice that you legs are somehow over his lap. When did this happen? Yet you don’t move them off.

Your wrist is now starting to burn, the pain growing and growing by the second. But it is almost as if he could sense this because he pulls away at the right moment before it could hurt more.

He doesn’t look at you at first, turned away, the back of his hand dabbing at his mouth. When he does look at you, his eyes have returned to their human form, glassy warm brown, filled with the same turmoil that is tangling you. Lips tinted with your red.

You want to ask if the sire bond is always this violent, this overwhelming.

Instead you kiss him.

❦

@taexxxiiaa @serendipity-secrets @killcomet @askingtheimportantthingshere@blackpanther4550 @comingjimin @unatempesta-dipensieri @dapppphhhhh  @unatempesta-dipensieri @beach-bitch-bitch-beach @queerloser17 @linyi-lovbts @somewhereinthestarss @xxqueenwxtchxx @whitefeatheredwyvern @embrace-themagic @brokencrownqueen @i-dont-even-know-fck @bangtandimples @kalkeegan @beetaeass @confessionsofascientist @chimycthulhu @hisunshiine

❦

25/10/2019

© Copyright 2019

[diabloindigo]

Are you the person to open a box of cereal just to get the toy inside? As a kid yes. Right now, I don’t buy cereals with prizes anymore. Do they even stuff toys in cereal these days? 

Do you get scared easy? If it’s in the anxiety induced variety, yes. 

What was one of the stupidest things you cried over when you were little? Not sure, it could have been anything from not wanting to wear a fancy dress or dress shoes to a party or a broken toy. 

Have you ever drank milk from the carton? Despite having a working dishwasher and plenty of glasses, I “waterfall” milk and juice from the containers. 

Juice or milk? I go both ways, leaning more towards juice. Apple or orange. 

Do you ever turn off your computer properly? Once in a while. 

Do you wish you were a fish? Not really, though I kinda envy the blue Dory (Doctor Fish?) in the tank at my gynecologist’s waiting room. It likes to swim to the bottom of the tank and ride up to the top on a bubble jet. That damn fish has probably had more fun than I have in the past several months. 

Who’s your favorite super hero? Invincible (Amazon Prime). Along with Spider-Man (2002) and the Big Hero 6 movie, that character/series is a rare superhero show that makes me feel strong and vulnerable at the same time. 

Who’s your favorite super villain? Slade Wilson/ Deathstroke as seen in “Teen Titans: The Judas Contract” animated movie and the 2003-2006 “Teen Titans” cartoon series. 

Spiderman or X-men? Spider-Man. Tobey Maguire and Peter B. Parker from Into the Spiderverse. 

Movie theatre or stay at home movie night? Theaters. Alamo Drafthouse. I love ordering boozy milkshakes and finger foods.

Do you have a Blue Ray? I have one of those external drives for my Mac though I never use it. 

How about HD television? Yeah

Do you think HD television is kind of a waste of money? No. 

Do you get why people get so frickin’ freaked out during football season? I do not, and living in a state with a hard-on for (American) football makes it weird when I tell people that I do not have a favorite football team/player. 

Do you ever sneak scraps to the dog even though you’re not suppose to? I don’t sneak him food. If I cook or order too much to eat, then I scrape a couple of cup’s worth of leftovers in his bowl. He’s probably got only a year to live so let him live it up a little. 

Are you reading a book right now? If so what? A friend gave me a copy of “The Only Good Indians” but I can't get into it so I’m reading “Full Throttle” by Joe Hill. 

What was the last book you were required to read for school? It’s been so long I can’t remember. 

O donuts or jelly filled? Whipped cream filled. I love Krispy Kreme’s whipped cream filled donuts with raspberry filled donuts as a close second. 

If I’m feeling bland then I do like crullers. 

Do you like your ice-cream in a bowl or cone? Bowl unless it’s a tasty cone. 

Marshmallows in your hot chocolate or no? I could go either way unless it’s a tiny cup of chocolate. 

Do you like cherry coke? Hell yes. I love going to Sonic for a cherry-vanilla-lime Coke or this greasy little 1950s type burger joint for their cherry cokes since they load the cups with several cherries. 

Do you really think diet Dr. Pepper is the equivalent of a cupcake? No, it tastes artificial. Like a bastard child of a soft drink that wants to pass for cherry soda. 

Do you snore in your sleep? Drool? Talk? Snore and talk (I’m pretty stressed out).

Have you ever sleep walked? no

Are you a morning person? I am now. 

How do you wake up in the mornings? by alarm during the work week, naturally at 6-7 on vacation days. 

Do you think guyliner is hot? What is that? 

Is variety the spice of life? yeah

Do you think strawberry milk is disgusting? I like it. 

Have you ever drank after anyone? Like sharing a cup/bottle? Yeah, loads of times.  

Have you ever drank after anyone you don’t know very well? No. 

Do you have any limits on who you drink/eat after?

If we’re talking about sharing, then I will share food/drink with family and friends. If someone offers me bite-size pieces that are individually wrapped or can be torn off the main portion, I’ll eat it, but only from co-workers or acquaintances. 

Would you eat a sucker if someone already ate some of it? No. 

Would you chew somebody else's gum? Hell no. 

Do you know anyone who’s going to die of mono because of that? No. 

Do you enjoy school? My English and psychology classes. 

Are you a teacher’s pet? no

Do you have a job? Yes. 

How did you get to and from school? Parents drove me or I walked for elementary through high school. I drove when I went to college. 

Do you have a bedtime? And if so what is it? I’m in bed between 11-12 a.m.

What time do you get up? 6 am so I can walk/exercise before the sun boils the earth in full force. 

Have you ever pulled an all-nighter? Yeah in college. 

What’s more important? Beauty or brains? brains

Do you believe in yourself? Sometimes I do, and sometimes I don’t. 

Did you ever want to be an astronaut when you were little? No. Being a veterinarian or scientist were my highest ambitions as a small kid. 

How about the president? Never. 

What did you want to be when you were little? Veterinarian, scientist, cartoon character. 

Did you ever want to be a super model? no

Do you believe you’re attractive enough to be a super model? No.

Have you ever had an X-ray? Several in the past few months for pre-surgery and dental work.

What’s your favorite guy’s name? What’s your favorite girl’s name? Guys’: Shane, Mark, Tadashi, Austin, Cade, Trip.

Girls’: Quince, Sienna, Amy, Kit, Lizzie (Elizabeth), Raven.

Who’s your second cousin’s, grandparent’s, sister? The fuck...

Do you laugh to yourself whenever the ketchup bottle farts? No, in fact, I get annoyed when other people hear it and ask me if I farted. 

Do you have any real guns in your house? I have several. 

Do you know how to use nunchucks? No, I bought a pair at one of those Asian imports emporiums, but I donated them since I never learned to use them. They were these crappy foam padded ones with dragons printed on the handles. 

Do you know anyone who can use nunchucks? No. 

What do you want to be next Halloween? In better health and not shitting bricks about using up my paid time off to go to doctors’ appointments. 

Did you ever consider getting a job as a mall Santa? No. I’d rather be one of his elves or a reindeer. 

Are you the one responsible for taking out the garbage? Yes. Grosses me the fuck out sometimes with smelly discarded poultry trays or rotten food, but somebody’s gotta do it. 

Do you recycle? My city has the blue recycling bins, but I heard that since we’re an ass-backward community, “recyclables” and trash all go to the same place. I just place recyclables in the blue bin to help clear up space in the trash bin. Maybe I’m wrong and this city does recycle? Can’t hurt. 

When I was 11, I’d collect empty soda cans to take to the recycling guy since back in the day, they’d pay for aluminum cans. That’s how I scraped up funds for dollar movies and hot dogs. 

Are you a pyro? Yeah. I carry/collect Zippo lighters but mostly because the “click-click” is satisfying to hear since I flip the lids open and closed to relieve stress. And I burn a lot of old bills and letters with sensitive info on them. 

What was the last word/thing you wrote down? I was researching high fiber foods that are also low in carbs to make a grocery and dinner meal plan. 

Sleeping or eating? After my surgery, sleeping. 

Are you overall a positive person? I try to be realistically positive, if such a thing exists. The world will never be all sunshine and My Little Ponies, but I try to find some comfort and positivity when my world is a shit-show. Filling this survey out kinda helps. 

Do you hate hypocrites? Yeah, especially the “do as I say, not as I do” types. 

For instance, a certain family member is pushing good diet and health habits, but it aggravates the hell out of me if I see him drinking high sugar iced tea or eating ice cream. Or Door-Dashing Burger King, even if it is a Beyond Whopper with a diet Coke. 

Do you like to prank people? Yes, but I do benign pranks like leaving dirty riddles and meme drawings on their front doors. 

What was the worst prank you’ve ever done on anyone? I tried fucking with a telesolicitor but I could not stop laughing. 

Have you ever jumped on a trampoline in the ice? I don’t own a trampoline. 

Have you ever ice skated? No. I tried once after a local minor league hockey game. I got the skates on, but my ankles were bending/bowing out so I changed my mind.

Ever water skiid? No. 

Is vacuum spelled funny? Yes. 

Democrat or republican? I don’t associate formally with either party, but I hitch my pony a little to the left. 

Who’s the biggest asshole you know? My former boss circa 2013. Very unprofessional and a veritable loudmouth and a poor (shit) showman wannabe. 

Pen or pencil? Gel-ink pens. 

Should all paper have holes? nope

Speaking of holes. Swiss cheese, what’s the point of that? Fewer calories? Spinning slices in my hand like a TV cowboy spinning his revolver in the trigger guard with his finger? 

Have you ever been in a helicopter before? No. 

Own any airbrushed tshirts? Nope, not even in the nineties. 

Have you ever been suspended? No. 

Have you ever been in a fist fight? A few playground fights as a kid. 

Ever said something to someone that you didn’t mean to say? Yes. 

Do you forgive too easily? I don’t think so. 

What are you listening to right now? The AC running. 

Have you ever seen any of MCR’s music videos? Nope. 

Are you tan? No. 

Have you ever been in a tanning bed? No. I have no desire to look like a Cheeto or woo skin cancer. 

Have you ever played water volley? Once at my uncle’s neighborhood swimming pool. 

Ever had a sunburn? Yes, from neglecting sunscreen re-applications or underestimating the sun. 

How about wind burn? It hurts….. Nah, I don't live in a cold enough climate for that. 

What was the first word you learned how to say? I think it was “mama.”

[imagine-loki]

Predator to Prey, Chapter 10

TITLE: Predator to Prey CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 10 AUTHOR: fanficshiddles ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki lives in exile on Midgard in a forest, he can’t leave the boundary. But every night when the sun goes down he turns into his Jotun form until the sun rises again. He meets a wolf one day and befriends her, gains her trust. But the wolf is no ordinary wolf… RATING: M

When Loki returned inside after fighting off the four men, Akelia was still waiting on the sofa. He wasn’t sure what was wrong with him but he found his heart melting at the sight of her.

She was so adorably cute, for a mortal, curled up in his cape. Compared to the fierce and strong wolf side of her. It was like she had turned from predator to prey. He grinned to himself, realising that he was now the predator in comparison.

‘Are you hungry?’ Loki asked.

Akelia raised an eyebrow at him. ‘Yeah… But I’m not eating those guys.’

Loki threw his head back, laughing. ‘I thought not. Though your wolf wasn’t complaining before.’ He grinned.

She shrugged. ‘Meat is meat to a wolf. I’d been one for so long that as long as meat was cooked, I didn’t really mind.’

‘Wolves don’t tend to eat cooked meat.’ Loki commented as he went to the kitchen to get something sorted for them both.

Akelia wandered over, the cape tightly wrapped around her. ‘I know. I still preferred cooked meat to raw, but needs must if there was no other option.’

‘Ah, then you found Loki the sucker. Who would cook every meal for a wolf.’ He teased.

‘Pretty much.’ She smiled. ‘Can I uh… Can I get some clothes? Since it seems you’re not going to let me turn back into a wolf for a while.’

Loki chuckled. ‘Sure, go have a look in the wardrobe.’

When Akelia disappeared into his bedroom, he took that time to process everything that had went on in the last half an hour. He still couldn’t quite believe that she was a human. He was really annoyed that he hadn’t realised sooner. But he also felt relieved. What with his dreams of late about her… He was glad he wasn’t going mad for falling in love with a wolf. Not that he would have allowed himself to do so, not in that kind of way.

He was almost finished cooking some eggs and bacon when Akelia came out of the bedroom wearing one of his green shirts, it was far too big for her. And she was wearing a pair of his boxers that was like big shorts on her, she was quite short for a human never mind in comparison to a male God.

Yet he found himself staring at her for longer than he should have…

‘Is it alright that I wear these?’ She asked, unsure what to think of the way he was looking at her so intently.

‘Of course.’ He said, clearing his throat. ‘I will get some proper clothes for you soon.’

‘Thanks… But I uh, I don’t really need them.’

‘What do you mean?’ Loki frowned, turning the cooker off so their food wouldn’t burn.

‘Well, I’m not staying like this.’ She shrugged. ‘It’s not really me anymore.’

Loki leaned back against the counter and folded his arms over his chest. ‘I don’t mind you being a wolf at times, but you are not living here as a wolf twenty-four seven.’ He said firmly. ‘I know you’re a smart wolf, but it would be nice to have proper conversation most of the time.’

Akelia looked a bit startled at that.

‘You… You want me to stay here?’ She asked, eyes widening.

Loki frowned. ‘Of course. I’m not going to chuck you out. This is your home now, too. It has been for a while now.’

Akelia felt warmed at that.

The two sat down at the table to eat. Akelia found it weird eating as a human again, it took her a few minutes to get used to using cutlery.

‘I forgot how weird it is eating like this. A wolf’s teeth can slice through most things so easily, my jaw is hurting from actually having to chew!’ She said, shaking her head.

Loki chuckled. ‘I can imagine. How long has it been then, that you’ve lived as a wolf?’

Akelia wiped her mouth with a napkin and sat back on the chair, thinking.

‘I think it’s been around eighteen months.’

Loki’s eyebrows shot up. He didn’t think it would have been that long. ‘Wow, that is quite some time.’

‘I know. So I apologise in advance if I’ve forgotten how to be… human.’ She smiled at him.

‘I’m sure we will manage.’ He grinned back at her.

After finishing their food, Loki went to chop some logs for the fireplace while Akelia went for a bath. That was one thing she had missed when being a wolf for so long.

She took her time in the tub, enjoying the warm water against her skin. But her mind was racing with so many thoughts. Would Loki truly want her to stay here with him? What did that mean?

But one thing they’d both forgotten about, was the sacrifices…

Akelia was not long out of the bath, Loki was back inside, when they saw a young woman coming down into the clearing. Slowly and timidly.

Loki looked at Akelia, she was staring straight ahead out the window. Loki couldn’t read her face though, not sure what to think.

‘Change me back.’ Akelia said.

‘What?’

‘Change me back. Please. I don’t want to be around others in this form.’ She said in a hurry, pleading Loki with her eyes. Somehow still managing puppy dog eyes at him.

Loki ran his hand down his face. Glancing out the window, he saw the woman getting closer to the cottage.

‘Alright.’ He agreed and flicked his wrist, green shimmered around Akelia and she changed back into the wolf that Loki had come to know so well.

Loki wasn’t sure what to do. He was a bit conflicted. Whilst he was looking forward to having sex, toying with the sacrifice, he wasn’t sure if he actually wanted anyone else now…

He snapped out of his thoughts when there was a low knock on the door. Loki changed into his Jotun form. He knew how Akelia felt not wanting some people to see certain sides of you…

Akelia growled low and went over to lie on the sofa, watching the door intently as Loki went to answer.

There was the usual shriek of surprise from the woman seeing the frost giant answer the door. He grinned wickedly and grabbed her arm, hauling her inside before she changed her mind and tried to run.

The woman didn’t notice the big wolf lounging on the sofa as she was dragged straight through to the bedroom. Loki didn’t say a word to the woman, he just got straight to it. Instead of tearing her clothes off like he usually would, he took them off in a hurry but was careful not to ruin them. He tossed them to the side of the room, out of the way. Then he pushed the woman down onto the bed and started ravaging her.

Akelia quietly slipped into the bedroom once she heard pleas and cries from the woman, begging Loki to stop. He had her pinned down and was fucking her hard from behind.

Loki noticed Akelia walk in. He forced the woman’s head right down into the bed, so she wouldn’t see the wolf. Akelia lay down on her bed, eyes locked on Loki.

He found he couldn’t look away from her. Her eyes were just the same as when she was human, such a beautiful blue. He was in a trance as he fucked the woman beneath him.

‘Stop… please!’ The woman begged, her voice muffled in the blanket. But Loki ignored her and became even rougher, slamming into her with every thrust.

Akelia was still just watching, eyes on Loki the entire time…

Loki gripped her hair tightly and yanked her head up, forcing her to crane her neck painfully. But that’s when she saw the wolf and let out a scream.

Loki laughed wickedly and thrust into her hard, bumping against her cervix painfully. He then forced her head back down again and thrust once more before cumming inside her. As he moaned out loud, Akelia’s ears twitched at the sound. 

He was breathing hard as he rolled off the woman and collapsed. She scrambled up as quickly as possible and made a move to grab her clothes.

‘Leave them!’ Loki barked, making her jump.

‘I… I need’

‘I said leave them!’ He snarled, getting up and moving towards her.

She took the hint and ran out of the room as quickly as she could. Akelia’s eyes briefly flickered over to her running away, then she looked back at Loki. In all of his blue magnificent glory.

Loki sat down on the bed, hearing the front door close he knew the woman was gone. No doubt running for her life back to the village.

‘Do you want turned back?’ He asked, looking over at Akelia, preparing his Seidr.

But Akelia had turned away from him and curled up, head down.

Loki sighed and fell backwards on the bed, rubbing his face. Even though he had cum, he still didn’t feel satisfied like he normally did…

[hangsangwithbts]

Sunflower (6)

sm text au in which you and namjoon are childhood bffs.

an: this didn’t come out the way I wanted it to but oh well. I added some texts at the end.and am soooo sorry this took forever to update!

tagging: @flymetokorea​​ @mochiteddybear​​ @givebuckysomelove​​ @youthandtears​​

___________________________________________________________

“Thank god,” Namjoon groaned, raising his hands up to the sky. He had been the first one out of the car as soon as you parked in the familiar driveway.

“Oh, shut up,” you rolled your eyes, following after him. The drive to his family’s house was no more than an hour, would’ve been shorter if you hadn’t missed a turn but you didn’t mind as it gave you another chance to play spring day for the seventh time. “My driving isn’t bad.”

“But your singing is.” Namjoon replied and judging by the look on your face, he made the wise decision to run away from you.

“I’m telling mom!” You exclaimed as you ran after him, shoving him away from the door so you could be the one to ring the doorbell.

**

That’s how Namjoon’s mother found the both of you--shoving each other like the little children you used to be. You both came abruptly to a stop, trying to play it off as you composed yourselves. A smile lit up Namjoon’s mother’s face and before you both could greet her properly, she let out a cry of joy and pulled both of you into her arms.

“My loves!” She beamed, giving you a kiss on the cheek before pulling away.

She then turned to Namjoon, her eyes beginning to water. He smiled back at her, showcasing the dimples you found so adorable. He leaned down to be at level with his mother and she peppered his face with kisses. One for each day they had been apart, even though it had only been a couple days. “My son,” she cooed, pulling him into her arms again. 

Namjoon wrapped his arms tightly around his mother, basking in the comfort her hugs gave him for as long as he could. You watched--a broad smile on your own face at the heart-warming sight. Namjoon’s mother let go of her son to turn back to you. She used her free hand to grab yours, pulling you both inside with her.

“Your mother told me you were moving to Seoul for the summer. I was wondering when you’d stop by,” His mother told you. “It makes my heart so happy to see you two together again!”

The sound of the pitter-patter of tiny paws soon met your ears and you looked up just in time to see a white ball of fluff running toward you. “Rap-monnie,” you cooed, squatting down to pet him.

Namjoon followed after you and you laughed as his dog happily barked, running back and forth between you two, not sure on who to greet first.

“Oh!” Namjoon’s mother uttered suddenly, sparing you two a glance. She cupped her face in her hands in distress.  “I wasn’t expecting you two so I don’t have a proper dinner prepared.”

“It’s okay--” Both you and Namjoon began in unison.

“No!” His mother cut you both off, pointing a finger in your direction. “I must go to the store. I’m going to make your favorite, y/n!”

**

There was no stopping Namjoon’s mother once she had made up her mind. She refused for you and Namjoon to come along, claiming that someone had to watch the dog since Namjoon’s father and sister had left the house earlier, despite Rapmon being well-trained.

You and Namjoon resorted to lounging in the living room. The TV was on but neither of you were paying attention to it. Rapmon was in his cute little bed, chewing away at a squeaky toy. If he wasn’t so adorable, you would’ve chucked the toy somewhere far out of his reach since the squeaking was beginning to drive you insane.

Namjoon was on his phone--scrolling through his secret BTS fan account on twitter, no doubt--his legs dangling off the couch since it was too small for his tall frame. You pushed his legs aside, causing him to glare at you. There was an empty recliner right next to the couch but in your defense, it didn’t look as comfortable as the couch.

You stuck your tongue out at him as you made yourself comfortable next to him. He noticed the photo album in your arms and sat up in sudden interest, taking the album away from you as he opened it himself. “Is this from the year we learned how to roller skate?”

“And also the year our mothers thought it was a cool idea to deck us out in Mickey and Minnie mouse merch.”

Namjoon chuckled, staring down at all the pictures of him and you as a child with such fondness. Your mothers had met when they were in their third trimester of pregnancy and bonded instantly. Friendship at first sight, they said. They could only hope the same for you two and sure enough, it was. Namjoon was born first--two weeks earlier than you--but as soon as you were born, the two of you were inseparable.

Albeit, it was because your mothers were inseparable so it really left you two with no choice but to be around each other. It just sounds less cool when explaining it that way. Plus, it’s not like you and Namjoon hated growing up together. Even when you two went to school and had a say in who you hung out with, you chose each other.

Namjoon flicked through the pages. Most of the pictures were from after your toddler years, where you’d often go play at parks. You’d always pick at the wild sunflowers, even though your mother would tell you not to. You soon learned your lesson once you got stung by a bee and much to your dismay, you found a picture of yourself crying and holding out your finger to a concerned Namjoon. (Your mom had the habit of always taking pictures, even if the moments weren’t so pleasant. “It’s for the memories!” she’d always say.)

Sometimes, your parents would take you to the beach and it was there that Namjoon discovered his love for crabs one summer. That was also the summer you stopped eating seafood for a whole year. You had made that decision after making Namjoon cry when you had suggested crab for dinner. You also made a vow to yourself that day, that you’d never make him cry again and you’re proud to say that you’ve done well on that promise.

You leaned forward, resting your head on Namjoon’s shoulder to get a better look at the pictures. He tensed for a brief moment, his breath hitching but quickly covered it up with a chuckle as his eyes landed on a particular picture. It was the year Namjoon got glasses and shortly after, so did you.

“I can’t believe you pretended to be blind just so you could have glasses like me.”

“I wanted to be cool just like you.” You grinned, your eyes scanning over the picture of little Namjoon in his thick lens glasses being smothered into a hug by you, who was also sporting glasses. 

“You thought I was cool?” Namjoon couldn’t help but snort. He turned his head to look at you, regretting it when he realized just how close his face was to yours. If you were to turn your head to look up at him, your lips would be only an inch or two apart...

“I thought you were the coolest person ever.” You replied and when you looked up, you confirmed his suspicion. As quickly as his gaze flickered to your lips, he lifted it to meet your eyes instead. “I still think you are.”

At that moment, the front door opened and he couldn’t have been more glad for a distraction, giving him the perfect excuse to distance himself from you in a nonchalant manner. It was his younger sister, Minji, and his father. Minji squealed as soon as she saw Namjoon. 

“Joonie!” She exclaimed, pulling him into a hug. When she pulled away, she turned to you with another squeal, throwing her arms around you and causing the both of you to fall backwards onto the couch. “[Y/N]! I missed you.”

“I missed you, too!”

Namjoon’s father also greeted you two with hugs. “Your mother called and said you two were here so on my way back, I stopped by a hotteok stand and bought some.”

Namjoon’s eyes lit up and he happily took the plastic bag containing the goods from his father, giving him a thumbs up. “You’re the best!”

It wasn’t long before Namjoon’s mother came back from the store. You followed her into the kitchen, willing to help out with anything she may need. Namjoon had offered to help as well but Namjoon’s mother thought it best if he stayed out of the kitchen and kept his father company instead. Minji had gone to her room to freshen up, leaving his mother and you alone in the kitchen. 

“How is Seoul treating you so far?” Namjoon’s mother asked.

“I like it.” You answered as you helped cut up the vegetables she had bought. “It’s nice to be close to everything again.”

“I hope you do come visit more often now, especially if you ever want a home cooked meal or a quiet place to spend the night.” His mother sincerely offered, resting a comforting hand on your shoulder. “Don’t be a stranger like your mother!”

“She’s too infatuated with her new beach house and still in the honeymoon stages of her new marriage but she’ll come around soon.” You assured her, knowing your mom was missing her best friend, too.

“And you?” Namjoon’s mother asked, taking the cut up vegetables from you with a grateful smile. “What happened to the boyfriend I met at your graduation? Henri, I think?”

“I don’t know,” you replied with a frown. “Boys are just stupid…”

“Don’t worry, not all boys are stupid.” She said, pulling you into a brief side hug and rubbing your arm. She then shrugged. “Whatever happened between you two, I’m sure it’s his loss. I didn’t like him anyway.”

Your lips curved into a smile and you couldn’t help but laugh at the phrase you’ve heard more than a couple of times from her. “I don’t think you’ve liked any of my boyfriends.”

Namjoon’s mother looked in your direction with a knowing smile and while you continued to chop away at the vegetables, you failed to realize that she had her gaze fixed on something--or rather someone-- behind you.

 “And you have yet to wonder why.”

You paused your actions, resting the knife on the cutting board. “Huh?”

“Joon-ah!” Namjoon’s mother exclaimed, beaming at her son and choosing to ignore your confused state. “Help [Y/N] set up the table, will you?”

Namjoon hadn’t meant to eavesdrop. He had walked over to the kitchen with the intentions of throwing away the package remains of the hotteok him and his father just finished. But instead, he found himself right outside the kitchen doorway, watching as you and his mother prepared dinner. He couldn’t help but admire the way you two smiled and interacted with one another, a warm feeling settling in his stomach.

He felt his face grow hot at the implication of his mother’s words. Did she--? He rubbed his neck in an awkward manner as you followed his mother’s gaze and turned around to look at him.

**

After Dinner

(a/n: during dinner, you realized Joon was quiet and deep in thought.)

[saunteringhusbands]

“What are your thoughts on me?” Jason looks down at Roy who begged the question while tying his shoes. Jason opened his mouth, though nothing came out, as he wasn’t quite sure what it implied. Roy rose up, locked eyes with the other boy. Looked to his lips then back up, studied those blue eyes and waited. 

“I’m not sure what you mean,” the response was gravelly. He turned his back on the red-head to put on his jacket. 

Roy grabbed at Jason’s hand and tugged. He spun him around and took a step forward, holding the other man in place. “You know exactly what I mean.” 

Jason stared down at their hands, eyes transfixed on how perfectly their fingers tied together. Roy was right. He knew exactly what he meant. He couldn’t answer yet, though, the words weren’t there and any spoken would simply be forced. He leaned forward instead, squeezed the hand he was holding and parted his lips and fell into Roy. And one could say that was an answer enough for Roy. He smiled into the kiss and moved his arms to embrace Jason. Both consider it the start of their life together.

Not much time passes, some months, maybe a year maybe two. They’re shopping downtown, in some furniture store and Jason is looking at plates. He’s holding a blue one in his hands, inspecting its ridges. Roy looks up from a selection of hand cloths to focus on Jay. He smiles softly. 

“What are your thoughts on moving in together?” Roy asks, stalking over. 

Jason raises an eyebrow, ponders slightly, and bites his lip. He eyes the atrocious, bright orange wash cloth in Roy’s hand. “Fine,” he starts, “but only if I’m in charge of the decor.” He tears the cloth away and gives Roy a kiss in place of it. It’ll simply have to do.

They’re walking through the park. It’s warm, that first solid week of spring when all signs of winter are out of sight, out of mind, and the flowers begin to bud. They’re hand in hand, strolling down the sidewalk path. Neither is really talking, save for simple phrases, lines about the weather and a bird over yonder and what they’ll have for dinner. Things are good for them right now. 

Roy takes mental notes of the dogs. He turns to Jason, ever so suddenly. The corner of his lip rises and he looks down at the ground thoughtfully. 

“What are your thoughts on getting a dog?” 

Jason chuckles. They spend the rest of the afternoon spit-balling names back and forth. They spend the following day picking out chew toys and a leash and collar and harness and food bowls and a bed at the local pet store. By the weekend they’re at the shelter, wandering up and down aisles of kennels. They find a pitbull named Raptor. Jason chats with the receptionist and fills out adoption papers. Roy sits with the dog on the ground, covering him in kisses, scratches, and belly rubs. Jason smiles at the sight.

They just finished dinner, a roast chicken with mashed potatoes and corn. Jason cooked the majority of it, and he does the dishes now, scrubbing away at their plates and setting them aside to be dried. He hears Roy enter the kitchen and teases him with a comment about having to do dishes alone. No response. He rolls his eyes and shuts the water off, drying his hands, ready to say something else, but Roy beats him to it.

“What are your thoughts on marriage?”

Jason’s jaw drops the slightest bit. He turns around. Roy is knelt before him on the ground, a look of pure wonder on his face. One hand is caressing an open box, revealing a simple gold ring. The other reaches out for Jason. He grabs that hand, pulling Roy up. There’s a foot of space between the two and neither’s quite sure what to do. One is holding on anxiously, awaiting an answer he’d hoped would come without thought. The other is terrified. His mind is going a million miles a minute. He loves Roy. He’s sure he loves Roy. Yet, there’s still a tugging, a fear. 

It doesn’t matter. It can’t possibly matter. From their last four years together, Roy has given Jason everything he could ever possibly need; every ounce of solace, every kiss, every hug, every dance, every smile. Life with Roy is comfort. It’s serenity. It’s everything he’s never had, everything he’s longed for.

He collapses then, into freckled arms, an embrace. “Yes,” he relieves. “God fucking yes, Roy, god do I want to marry you.”

They spend the night covering one another in kisses, drinking the finest wine their cupboard could serve them, straight from the bottle. They make plans. They aren’t in a rush, but they are in love, and perhaps there isn’t much of a difference. 

Their wedding is small. Immediate family and friends only. Alfred walks Jason down the aisle. They marry and eat cake and Dick gives a speech about each of the grooms and they spend the night dancing to a shitty playlist put together by Tim. Oliver and Bruce try to outdo each other with wedding gifts. And at the end of the night, when it’s just the pair of them, Red Hood and Arsenal, Robin and Speedy, Jason and Roy, they hold one another close and talk in soft voices, breath entwining, much like their bodies beneath the sheets. They speak of love and promises. 

Months later. Roy is working at the dining room table, clicking away on his laptop. Jason is in the living room, rereading Hamlet for the umpteenth time, twisting his wedding ring around on his finger. He loves that damn ring. Once so afraid of the weight it might bring, he’s been met with the utter opposite. He finds relief in it all. In having someone to hold onto when the nights get long, look forward to on the stressful days, lounge with when the outside world is gray and he’s in need of a day off. They work together. Everything aligned so perfectly, fit so snugly, like pieces of a puzzle. 

Jason’s never been happier.

He looks up now and is met with the image of Roy standing in the door frame, laptop in his hands still.

“What are your thoughts on a house with a white picket fence?”

They move to the middle of the country, far from both Gotham and Star City. They hang up their capes and never touch a weapon again. Their days open up and begin to be spent painting the walls of the house. Their nights are spent cuddled up on the couch, Jason reading aloud to Roy and Raptor, exposing them to worlds they’d never before tasted, never even thought to step foot in. 

With bliss comes rain and when it rains it pours. They just had a big fight. Each party said things he didn't mean, and though they both know they weren’t coming from truthful places, neither is ready to apologize just yet. 

They sit side by side on their bed, a few feet between them. Both stare absently at the wall. They won’t go to bed angry, it’s something they both agreed on. Still, this waiting game doesn’t seem to be going anywhere and it’s getting late. Roy has work early the next morning, Jason an appointment. 

It’s half past one when Roy breaks the silence. He gnaws on his cheek, straightens his back, bows his head and looks at his husband out of the corner of his eye. 

“What are your thoughts on kids?”

Jason’s shoulders drop, all pent-up tension released in a single second. He crawls across the bed and falls into Roy’s lap, wrapping arms around a slender waist. They stay up late dreaming up a family. 

Jason doesn’t make it to his appointment that day. Roy calls in sick to work.

Over the course of the next few years, they adopt three children, who they love as much as if they were their own. Their house becomes chaotic, the good kind. Jason cooks family meals and cleans up and gets the kids to school. Roy works as an engineer for some company and comes home every day to his husband and children. 

When the kids are asleep, and the house is still, and the night is a haven in opposed to a battleground, Jason and Roy still snuggle up on the couch for Jason to read aloud to his husband, their dog at their feet. It’s a particular night. Jason’s back is against Roy’s chest, Roy’s fingers are running through Jason’s hair as he reads Picture of Dorian Gray. There’s a candle burning on the coffee table, and a small, warm lamp is turned on from its place on an end table, but besides that, the house is dark, it’s sleepy, it’s homey. Roy trails kisses down Jason’s neck.

“What are your thoughts on me?” He begs, a whisper.

Jason smiles. It’s been twelve years since he was first asked that. He remembers his response to it then: a passionate kiss, a skipped patrol, a night in bed together. He had been young, full of fear, yet lust, yet a deep, growing love for this boy before him. And now, today, tonight, he sits with twelve years of experience in his back pocket.

He’s fallen in love with Roy. With his hands, freckles, eyes, cupids bow, back dimples. With his corny jokes, useless inventions, stupid catch phrases that aren’t catchy in the slightest. With his mannerisms, the essence of him, the ins, the outs, the very existence that is Roy William Harper.

Jason’s heart swells, it’s warm, his head is an eruption of butterflies and he simply thinks to himself, “I love him.”

“My thoughts, Roy Harper, love of my life, father of my children,” Jason starts slowly, taking small breaks between words, as if sounding it all out, warming up to the water before jumping in head first. “Are that I love you, and that you complete me.”

Roy buries his face in the crook of Jason’s neck. “God, I fucking love you.”

They fall asleep there, on the couch, a tangled mess of limps and a book discarded to the floor. They awake the next morning to their children bouncing atop them. They spend the Saturday as a family. Roy plays a board game with the youngest two while Jay helps the eldest with a history assignment in the kitchen. In the midst of it all, they exchange a look, a knowing look, a loving one, one which promises so much, one which reads, ‘we’ve made it.’

[quercussp]

The Fantastic Mr. Whiskers

Rating: T

Word count: 3.1k

Summary:

Mr. Whiskers does not approve of guests. But this human? This human was ok. This human could stay.

Authors note:

Happy holidays @babethepig! I hope you like this fic, even though I interpreted the prompt a bit loosely.

Written for the prompt: Phil can talk to animals but he keeps his power hidden. Dan and Phil start dating. Dan has a cat (because in this universe Dan has the right opinion and Phil is not allergic) the cat is really grumpy and usually hates everyone but it loves Phil. Dan is confused especially after he keeps catching Phil and the cat in -what looks like- deep conversations. The cat doesn't like certain things and Phil seems to know just why it is grumpy all the time, Dan gets suspicious and Phil ends up telling him about his power.

A huge thank you to my betas @alittledizzy and @templeofshame and the WWC crew for the support and encouragement. I couldn't have done this without you <3

Warnings: very minor homophobia (blink and you will miss it)

[read on ao3]

Mr. Whiskers was fond of his human. Most of the time. Ok, about half of the time. He assumed that the human meant well, but why did he keep buying this disgusting fish flavored dry food when Mr. Whiskers obviously hated fish? How many times did he have to turn over the bowl or sulk in the corner under the table for his human to figure that out? Weren’t humans supposed to be the most intelligent animals in the world? (Mr. Whiskers internally snorted at that. Yeah right, they think that, but then they also shout at pictures moving in the big box in the living room. Even the most stupid alley cat knew that they can’t hear you if they’re inside the box.)

His human also insisted on inviting the most horrible people into his flat. One of them was apparently his brother, and they always cooked some kind of ridiculous meal with no meat whatsoever, only carrots and stupid broccoli. Not even a little dash of milk! Absolutely no edible scraps Mr. Whiskers could steal from the table and enjoy in peace. The other person who came over to their home was a woman with a loud voice and different colored hair, and the tendency to constantly want to squish Mr. Whiskers with no consideration of his dignity or desire to be squished. He wasn’t some kind of lap dog to be “cuddled” and cooed at! Didn’t that woman have a mother who would teach her to KEEP HER STUPID FURLESS HANDS TO HERSELF? Honestly, some humans needed a little scratch once in a while to know their place, and he didn’t care that his human would yell “Mr. Whiskers, behave yourself!” every time he did it. He’ll behave himself when the guests behave themselves.

And the third semi regular visitor his human had was his mother, who called his human “Daniel” and would sit on the sofa drinking tea in silence. Sometimes she would ask a question like “So, have you decided about going back to university?” or “Are you still working at that convenience store? I think you should be looking for something more serious,” or “Have you been seeing anyone? My friend’s daughter is about your age, I think you should give her a call.” And even though she never did anything annoying to Mr. Whiskers and even sometimes brought him a nice treat, he absolutely hated having her over, because his human would get sad and quiet afterwards, and sometimes lie in bed for an entire day. And no amount of rubbing against his hands or purring on his chest would make him smile.

But most of the time, it was just the two of them. His human would usually have to be woken up by Mr. Whiskers’ insistent meowing. Honestly, if it weren’t for him, the human would probably never get to work on time. And Mr. Whiskers would never get fed. After giving Mr. Whiskers some food (ok, why the constant fish? Urgh, it’s disgusting), the human would pour some milk over his dry food (without fish, one would note. Why does the human get fish-free dry food while Mr. Whiskers has to suffer?) and sit at the table slowly chewing on it. If the human would get too slow or close his eyes for too long, Mr. Whiskers would make sure to drop something off of the counter to wake him up. Then, the human would go into the bathroom and shower (yet further proof that humans are not that intelligent. Why would anyone voluntarily pour water over themselves? Idiotic.) and get dressed. There would then be the regular argument where Dan would shout “Why did you have to sleep on my work pants again? You got fur all over them! Just use the fucking bed I bought you!” and Mr. Whiskers would hiss and jump straight into the pile of clothing on the floor of the bedroom and start kneading at them. Show his human who’s boss. Then the human would leave and Mr. Whiskers could get some good sleep in the human’s comfortable bed. (Dan wonders why Mr. Whiskers doesn’t sleep in the bed he bought him? Well, why did he buy him a bed that’s like 20 times smaller than his own? Does this human seriously thinks that he needs more space than Mr. Whiskers? Ridiculous.)

The evenings were mostly spent with the human sitting in front of the big box with some kind of toy and screaming loudly at the moving objects while Mr. Whiskers lay curled up on the couch and eyed his human with pity. They are never going to hear you, you fool. Just give up already. And after dinner (fish dry food, again; someone needs to smack some sense into this human) they would go to bed, Dan under the covers and Mr. Whiskers usually on the large chair where the human put his black work pants that night. (What? The chair is comfortable!)

So when one evening, someone Mr. Whiskers never seen before walked in with his human, Mr. Whiskers was immediately suspicious. The new guest was as tall as Dan, but had black hair and bright blue eyes. He was smiling and out of breath, and was looking around the apartment in wonder.

“So, this is my place,” Dan said, his voice sounding uncharacteristically shaky. “And this is Mr. Whiskers. Don’t mind him, he’s very grumpy, so don’t be offended if he hates you.”

Mr. Whiskers hissed in indignation. He wasn’t grumpy! He was an absolute delight if you knew how to behave yourself. He even let his human pet him a couple times the day before, and only hissed at him twice this morning! And Dan dares to call him grumpy?

“Hello Mr. Whiskers!” replied the stranger. “I’m Phil! It’s very nice to meet you.”

There was something really weird about this new human’s voice. Mr. Whiskers couldn’t exactly place what it was, but something was very different.

“Phil, you’re so funny! You honestly think he understands you?” Dan laughed and Mr. Whiskers meowed, offended. Did his human think he’s stupid?

“Of course he does, Dan, and I don’t think he likes you saying that.”

Ok, Phil seemed to be acceptable so far. He seemed respectful. Mr. Whiskers could give him a chance. For now.

“Oh Phil, you’re so precious!” Dan replied, and looked at the new guy with a smile on his face that made Mr. Whiskers want to roll his eyes. He looked at him like a little kitten looks at his first bouncy ball, or like his mother used to look at him when she would lick his face. Disgusting.

They ended up sitting on the couch and shouting at the lit up box together, and Mr. Whiskers felt his good opinion of the new ‘Phil’ human decline a bit. He might be smart enough to know that Mr. Whiskers understands them, but still obviously not the brightest kitten in the litter. He was also a little odd in other ways, biting Dan on the shoulder sometimes and giggling all the time. Perhaps he was hungry? Mr. Whiskers would also sometimes bite his human for food, but Dan seemed to react very differently to Phil biting him. When Mr. Whiskers would bite, his human would screech and call him a “dirty animal.” When Phil bit him, however, Dan would flush red and giggle. He looked like a tomato, it was frankly ridiculous.

It was long dark outside by the time Phil stood up from the couch and headed out. He hugged Dan and whispered something in his ear, and then looked Mr. Whiskers directly in the eyes and said “Goodbye Mr. Whiskers! See you soon!”

Something was definitely off about this person.

***

After that night, Phil became a constant presence in the flat. He would come over almost every night and stay later and later. Occasionally, he would stay overnight in the human’s bed and eat breakfast with them. He also seemed to progress from biting Dan to doing all sorts of other stupid things, like licking and sucking on his mouth, laying on his shoulder or on his chest and nuzzling into his neck. And his human seemed to not only allow it, but do the same to Phil. At one point, his human actually pushed Mr. Whiskers out of the bedroom and closed the door. And didn’t let him in the entire night, which was so unthinkably rude that Mr. Whiskers had no choice but to pee in Dan’s palm tree. The next morning they both emerged looking like they didn’t sleep at all, which of course they didn’t. Who would be able to sleep without Mr. Whiskers watching over them? And why did Phil have dark spots all over his neck?

However, even with all of this, having Phil around all the time definitely had some benefits. First of all, Phil apparently loved pizza, which meant that if Mr. Whiskers whined hard enough, he would always get a little pepperoni or sausage out of their plates. Additionally, Phil’s presence drove away Dan’s need to invite other people and Phil himself was always very respectful of the “don’t touch the cat if he doesn’t want it” rule. And of course, Mr. Whiskers was somewhat satisfied to see his human so happy. Some might even say that Mr. Whiskers was happy for him, but those people would be wrong, of course; Mr. Whiskers was far too important of a creature to really care about the wellbeing of his human (even though he did know that if Phil dared to hurt Dan, he would scratch his eyes out and not even think about it).

But the most significant changes came from the fact that Phil seemed to somehow just know things. Or, at least, guess some of the things Mr. Whiskers wanted. For example, one time when they were having breakfast and Dan was pouring the horrid fish dry food into Mr. Whisker’s bowl, Mr. Whiskers let out a frustrated meow. While Dan refused to get the hint for several years, Phil immediately seemed to understand Mr. Whisker’s frustration and told Dan that “I don’t think your cat really likes this type of food, maybe we should get him something different?” And indeed, a couple days later Phil brought over several different bags of cat food and had Dan perform a complicated taste test to determine which one was Mr. Whisker’s favorite. And somehow, Phil was able to exactly tell Dan which one Mr. Whisker’s liked most (the duck flavored one, of course, although the beef and rabbit one were also not bad).

Phil also would always say a proper hello and goodbye to Mr. Whiskers and always asked him if he could pet him. But the weirdest thing was that when Mr. Whiskers wasn’t in the mood for sentimental cuddles, Phil would just chuckle and say, “Ok, ok, maybe next time.” And whenever Mr. Whiskers allowed Phil to pet him, the human managed to scratch the perfectly right spot. Mr. Whiskers has never met a human who understood him as well as Phil.

***

One morning, Mr. Whiskers could tell something was wrong as soon as he woke up. The day before was one of the rare nights Phil wasn’t here, and Dan had spent the previous evening outside the house, only to come home at two am, pale, shivering and with puffed red eyes. He immediately went to bed without even saying hi to Mr. Whiskers or giving him the normal scratch behind the ears. The next morning, no matter how much Mr. Whiskers meowed or scratched at him, no matter how many cups he threw off of the counter, his human refused to get out of bed. He was lying under his blankets, covering his entire head, and Mr. Whiskers could hear a quiet sobbing from under it.

That morning Dan never got up for work. He just lay in bed, standing up only once to go to the bathroom and carelessly throwing some food in the general direction of Mr. Whisker’s bowl. The sun set and his human never stood up to turn on any lights. He just lay in bed motionless, sometimes letting out a quiet sob.

It was fully dark when Mr. Whisker’s heard the door open.

“Dan? Baby? Are you home?” Phil’s voice rang out in the darkness. Mr. Whiskers immediately raced to the door and started meowing at Phil. If anyone could cheer his human up, it would be Phil. Something was definitely wrong.

Phil entered the living room and turned on the light. Then he looked Mr. Whiskers right in the eyes and said, “You’re saying he didn’t get out of bed at all?”

Mr. Whiskers stared in shock at Phil.

“Listen, Mr. Whiskers, I can speak to animals, it’s no big deal. I just didn’t want Dan to know in case he thought I was weird or something. But we can discuss this in detail later; can you please tell me what happened to Dan?”

If Mr. Whiskers were a less dignified cat, he probably would have freaked out. But Mr. Whiskers doesn’t freak out. He’s always collected and poised, and honestly it’s not like he was that surprised, truly. (He definitely was.)

Quickly collecting himself from not being shocked at all, Mr. Whiskers proceeded to tell Phil exactly what was going on. Phil just looked intently at him and nodded along.

“Did he have anything to eat? He was crying yesterday? He was supposed to stay at his parents, but you’re saying he came back in the middle of the night? Ok, ok. Wait, slow down. Oh, he sometimes cries when his mom visits? Ok, I’ll see what I can do. Thank you, thank you!”

With that, Phil poured some water into a glass and quietly opened the door into the bedroom.

“Let me see how Dan is doing and I’ll feed you, Mr. Whiskers,” Phil whispered. Ok, that was fair. As long as it didn’t take forever, because dinner was supposed to be served at least two hours ago.

After a couple minutes of waiting, Mr. Whiskers slid into the dark bedroom and saw that Phil was lying in bed next to Dan, combing his fingers through his curly hair and murmuring into his ear.

“I’m so sorry, love. It’s his loss, you’re perfect. I’m so so sorry.”

“I wanted them to get to know you…” Dan sobbed. “I thought they would be happy for me.”

“They’ll come around, Danny, and if not, it’s their loss. It’s going to be ok, I’m here.”

Mr. Whiskers wanted to remind Phil of his promise to feed him dinner, but decided that he might not actually be that hungry. Instead, Mr. Whiskers climbed onto the bed and firmly planted himself between the two humans, kneading at the softness of Dan’s stomach and purring loudly. Dinner could wait until his human was a little happier. Maybe Mr. Whiskers would even curl up in Dan’s lap later, and let him pet him for an hour or two. Mr. Whisker’s was generous like that.

***

The next morning Phil woke up earlier than Dan and slipped out of bed into the kitchen.

“Let him sleep” he whispered to Mr. Whiskers who was about to start the normal process of waking Dan up. “I told our manager he won’t come into work today; he had a rough night.”

Mr. Whiskers followed Phil out into the kitchen and jumped up on the breakfast bar.

“So…” Phil said.

Mr. Whiskers stared at him.

“You hungry?”

Of course he was.

“Why is all of this crap on the floor? You tried to wake him up that way? Honestly, Mr. Whiskers, are you expecting me to clean this up? Of course you are.”

Phil quickly swept up the broken china and put the rest of the junk off the floor back onto the counter.

“Here, let me get you some food. Do you want the duck or the rabbit? Duck? Ok!”

He poured some food into the bowl and put it on the table.

“Come have breakfast with me, Mr. Whiskers. I think Dan might be sleeping in for a bit.”

Phil made himself a cup of coffee and got a biscuit from the cupboard. They sat at the table in silence, both munching on their food for a bit.

“So… Alligators are pretty cool, aren’t they?”

Mr. Whiskers just stared at him.

“What? They are! I went to the zoo with my family once and the alligator told me that my thighs are my best feature! Although I don’t know if he was saying that from an aesthetic or food related point of view. Either way, that was really nice of him.”

Mr. Whiskers glanced down at Phil’s thighs.

“Well, the alligator liked them, so you can keep your snarky comments to yourself,” Phil laughed. “Dan appears to like them, so shush.”

Mr. Whiskers laid down on the table and flicked his tail.

“Hey, don’t insult my boyfriends taste. He chose you as a pet, didn’t he?” Phil smirked. “Well of course he didn’t choose you, it was the other way around, what am I even saying. And you did a good job, you have a nice human there, don’t you.”

Just as Phil was saying that, the door to the bedroom creaked open and a sleepy-looking Dan emerged.

“Who are you talking to, Phil?” he asked, rubbing his eyes.

Mr. Whiskers and Phil shared a glance and the cat jumped off the table and walked towards Dan. He rubbed his side on Dan’s legs and purred.

“Why are you suddenly so nice? What’s going on?”

“Nothing, babe, we were just having breakfast. Do you want something?” Phil replied in an exaggeratedly innocent voice.

Honestly, Phil was the worst liar Mr. Whiskers has ever seen. Dan looked at Phil with even more suspicion.

To break the tension, Mr. Whiskers had to plunge his claws into Dan’s naked shin.

“Owww, you animal, what the fuck!?” Dan shouted, and Mr. Whiskers proudly walked away, successfully defusing the situation. Watch and learn, Phil. Watch and learn.

“Will you still move in with me if this monster of a cat lives here?” Dan asked Phil, rubbing his scratched up ankle. He plopped himself into a chair at the table and took a sip of Phil’s coffee.

“Do you seriously think I would dare move in without getting Mr. Whiskers’ approval?” Phil replied. “It’s not like it’s up to you or me if I get to live here.”

Mr. Whiskers jumped into Dan’s lap and curled up into a ball. Dan automatically started combing his hands through his soft fur.

“Do you approve, Mr. Whiskers?” Dan asked him. “I think he approves,” he smiled widely at Phil.

“Oh, he does, as long as we keep buying him the duck-flavored cat food,” Phil replied.

Mr. Whiskers started purring loudly in Dan’s lap. Phil was ok. Phil could stay, he decided.