#dry fruit tray

[nibblesgifts]

Nibbles & Nuts Dry Fruit Wicker Tray

The Nibbles & Nuts Wicker Tray is a beautifully crafted, rustic tray designed to elevate your snacking experience. Made from high-quality wicker, it offers a charming and eco-friendly way to serve a variety of snacks, nuts, fruits, or treats. With its natural, woven design, it adds a touch of warmth and style to any setting, perfect for gatherings, picnics, or simply enjoying a cozy snack at home. Durable and versatile, this tray is both functional and decorative, making it a great addition to your kitchen or dining area.

[duskylory11]

What Makes a High-Quality Dry Fruit Tray? Key Factors to Consider

Dry fruits are a beloved snack choice, both for their flavor and their numerous health benefits. Whether you’re purchasing a dry fruit tray for personal enjoyment, as a thoughtful gift, or for a festive occasion, choosing a high-quality tray ensures that you're getting the best in both taste and nutrition. However, with so many options available, knowing how to identify a premium dry fruit tray can be a bit tricky. This article will help you understand what makes a dry fruit tray stand out in terms of quality.

1. Visual Appeal and Freshness

One of the most important qualities in any dry fruit tray is the freshness of the fruits and nuts inside. Fresh dry fruits have a lively color and natural sheen, which indicates that they haven’t been sitting on the shelf for too long. For example, fresh almonds should be smooth and have a slight gloss, while raisins should look plump, not shrunken or hard. Cashews should appear creamy, not dull or overly dry.

When inspecting a tray, check for any visible signs of dryness or discoloration. The best dry fruit trays will feature fruits and nuts that look appetizing and fresh. Items that appear overly shriveled, discolored, or powdery could be indicators of aging or poor storage conditions, which can affect both taste and nutrition.

2. A Balanced Assortment

Variety is another hallmark of a high-quality dry fruit tray. A thoughtfully assembled tray will include a selection of nuts, dried fruits, and sometimes seeds, offering a range of textures and flavors. A well-balanced assortment might include:

Almonds: Known for their crunch and high levels of vitamin E and protein.

Cashews: Soft, buttery nuts rich in minerals like magnesium and copper.

Pistachios: Small, green nuts that are both delicious and a great source of fiber and healthy fats.

Walnuts: With their slightly bitter taste, walnuts are full of omega-3 fatty acids and antioxidants.

Raisins or Sultanas: Naturally sweet, raisins are packed with iron and provide a chewy contrast to crunchy nuts.

Dried figs or apricots: These provide a chewy, slightly tangy sweetness and are full of fiber and vitamins.

A diverse mix in the tray ensures that there’s something for everyone, and it also enhances the visual appeal of the tray. Premium trays often contain unique or exotic fruits like dried mango, pineapple, or even cranberries, making the assortment more special.

3. Quality Packaging

Presentation plays a big role when selecting a dry fruit tray, especially if it's intended as a gift. High-quality trays often come in elegant packaging that not only looks great but also preserves the freshness of the contents. Look for trays with secure seals or airtight containers, which keep moisture and contaminants out while maintaining the crunchiness and flavor of the nuts and fruits.

Some trays come in reusable boxes or eco-friendly packaging, which can be an added bonus if you’re looking for something environmentally conscious. The packaging should also be sturdy enough to prevent damage during transport or handling, ensuring the items inside remain intact and in perfect condition.

4. Free from Additives and Preservatives

One key indicator of quality in dry fruit trays is the absence of artificial additives. Ideally, the fruits and nuts in the tray should be as close to their natural state as possible, without added sugars, oils, or preservatives. Many cheaper trays include fruits coated in sugar or nuts that have been roasted in unhealthy oils, which diminishes both their taste and nutritional value.

A healthier, high-quality tray will feature raw or minimally processed items. If you’re particularly health-conscious, look for organic dry fruit trays. Organic products are grown without synthetic pesticides or fertilizers, making them a safer and more natural option.

5. Nutritional Content

Dry fruits are known for their dense nutritional value, so a good tray should provide a rich source of vitamins, minerals, fiber, and healthy fats. Different types of nuts and dried fruits offer unique health benefits. For example, almonds are high in vitamin E, which is good for the skin, while walnuts are rich in omega-3 fatty acids, which support heart health.

Dates and raisins offer natural sugars that provide quick energy, making them great for a healthy snack. However, beware of trays that include heavily processed fruits with added sugars or syrups, as these can negate the health benefits that dry fruits typically provide.

6. Ethical Sourcing and Sustainability

In recent years, many consumers have become more conscious of where their food comes from. If sustainability and ethics are important to you, consider the source of the dry fruits in the tray. Some companies ensure their products are ethically sourced, which can mean anything from fair-trade practices for workers to sustainable farming methods that minimize environmental impact.

High-quality dry fruit trays may also highlight the region where the products come from. For instance, some of the best almonds come from California, and top-quality dates may come from the Middle East. Knowing where your food is sourced can give you greater confidence in its quality and freshness.

7. Value for Money

Finally, while it’s tempting to go for the cheapest option, when it comes to dry fruit trays, you often get what you pay for. High-quality dry fruits tend to cost more because of their nutritional value, freshness, and better sourcing practices. When evaluating value, consider not only the quantity of fruit and nuts but also their quality. A tray that’s packed with premium selections is worth the investment, especially if you’re buying it for a special occasion or as a gift.

Conclusion

A high-quality dry fruit tray is not only a treat for the palate but also a smart choice for your health. By paying attention to factors like freshness, variety, packaging, and ethical sourcing, you can ensure that you’re selecting a tray that’s worth the price. Whether it’s for yourself or for a loved one, choosing a premium dry fruit tray guarantees a mix of delicious flavors, textures, and nutritional benefits that are sure to satisfy.

[rahultistabene]

Elegant Tray Sets for Your Home Décor

Discover elegant tray sets that elevate your home décor. From modern to classic designs, find the perfect set for any room. Browse our collection today!

[gtagiftbasket]

Gift Basket Hacks: Elevate Your Dry Fruit Presentation

Dry fruits are a healthy and delicious gift option, perfect for any occasion. But let's face it, a bag of prunes doesn't exactly scream "festive." Fear not, gifting guru! With a few clever hacks, you can transform your dry fruit selection into a show-stopping centerpiece in any gift basket.

Preparation is Key:

Visual Appeal: Sort your dry fruits by color and size. Apricots, golden raisins, and cashews will create a vibrant mix, while darker fruits like prunes and dates can be arranged for contrast.

Freshen Up: If your dried fruits seem a little dull, a quick refresh can make a big difference. Plump raisins by soaking them in a little rum or orange juice for 15 minutes. Apricots and mangoes can benefit from a light dusting of edible glitter for a touch of sparkle.

Container Creativity:

Ditch the Bag: Skip the boring plastic bags that come with store-bought dried fruits. Opt for clear cellophane bags or small decorative boxes. These allow the vibrant colors to shine through and add a touch of elegance.

Layer it Up: Create visual interest by layering different colored fruits in your container. Start with a base of a darker fruit like prunes, followed by a layer of golden raisins, and top it off with vibrant apricots or cranberries.

Think Outside the Box (Literally): Don't limit yourself to traditional baskets. Mason jars, decorative tins, or even beautiful mugs can be transformed into unique and reusable containers.

Sweet Additions:

Chocolate Drizzle: For a touch of indulgence, melt some dark chocolate and drizzle it over your arranged dry fruits. This adds a luxurious element and makes them even more irresistible.

Nutty Nachbarn: Complement your dried fruits with a selection of roasted nuts. Almonds, pistachios, and pecans add a delightful textural contrast and a touch of healthy fat.

Spice it Up: For an extra flavor boost, sprinkle a touch of ground cinnamon, nutmeg, or even a pinch of chili flakes over your display.

Edible Flowers: For a truly show-stopping presentation, consider adding a few edible flowers like pansies or violets. These add a touch of whimsy and sophistication.

Presentation Perfection:

The Finishing Touch: Don't forget the finishing touches! Tie a colorful ribbon around the container or add a decorative pick for a festive touch.

Personalize it: For an extra special touch, consider adding a handwritten card with a heartfelt message or the recipient's initials made from dried fruit slices.

Bonus Tip: If you're feeling extra crafty, line the bottom of your container with shredded colored paper or crinkled tissue for an extra pop of color and visual interest.

With these simple hacks, your dry fruits will go from ordinary to extraordinary. So, the next time you're looking for a thoughtful and healthy gift, consider a beautifully presented dry fruit arrangement. It's sure to leave a lasting impression!

[giftdubaionline]

Traditional Special Gifts for Ramadan and EID

Gifts for Ramadan and EID

Traditional Special Gifts for Ramadan and EID The Holy Month of Ramadan is one of the most significant months in the Islamic timetable This is a special time that brings families and communities closer together. It’s a Tradition to bring gifts similar as food and incense to a host’s home as an act of love, Kindness, and Respect. The end of Ramadan is the launch of Eid Al Fitr, which means the ‘jubilee of breaking the fast ’. The stylish occasion of Eid makes sure everyone from associates and musketeers and extended family members exchanges gifts to partake in their gratefulness. Gifting is an important tradition in Arabia, recognizing close bonds and strong connections. According to Islamic Book, Prophet Muhammad (PBUH) would frequently give and admit gifts of incense, beast, apparel, and especially food, which is why it’s come to an integral aspect of indigenous culture.

Take a bite into the Traditional Food & Gifts for this EID and Ramadan month with GDO

Dates and Nuts

Enrich your tastebuds with Premium Dates. Get the Best Arabic Dates in Dubai, and Send Gifts Online to friends and family in Dubai. Take a bit into crunchy pistachios, cashews, and almonds, and Celebrate this Ramadan with the Best Dates and nuts in UAE

Dry Fruit Basket

Dry Fruit Basket is the Traditional way of Celebrating Ramadan month, especially during iftar. Get The Best Enriched dry fruit basket with a gift option to offer your dear ones on Ramadan. The crunchy almonds, cashews, and pistachios will relish their taste buds and express your love and care for them in the best way.

Fruit Baskets

Ramadan cannot be complete without Fruit Baskets, especially during iftar. Playing to get fresh and healthy gifting Optional and also planning it to be Grand. With GDO get the Best Fruit basket in town that fits your budget and share love and good health with your dear ones this Ramadan month.

Cakes

Cupcakes and celebration Cakes make the moment alive Gift Ramadan Cakes to your Homes and witness the Love that blooms in your Family. With GDO you can get the Best Ramadan Cakes and Iftar cakes that brighten your face and your heart at your Home

Get the Best of Traditional Gifts for this Ramadan and Eid. Send Gifts to all your friends and family members with GDO and celebrate this Ramadan season with the Grace of the Lord Almighty. Dive into the divine touch of traditional Ramadan gifts and sweets and treats from GDO family.

[yandere-daydreams]

file #1: the piss fic.

part of the FREAK SHIT MARCH evidence packet.

pairing: yandere!neuvillette x reader (genshin).

length: 3.2k.

warnings: fem!reader, non/con, omorashi, semi-public sex, humiliation/degradation play, unhealthy relationships, obsessive behavior, and unbalanced power dynamics.

The first sign that something was deeply, deeply wrong should’ve been the small glass bottle perched on the edge of your bedside table – filled to the brim with water so clear and so pristine that you might’ve thought it was empty, had you been a touch more optimistic.

You blinked once, then twice before summoning the strength to sit up, confusion and well-earned paranoia fighting to clear the fog over your exhaustion addled mind. Neuvillette stood at the foot of your bed, already dressed and currently focused on securing his cravat with a pointed intensity, or so he seemed to want you to believe. “What’s that?”

“Water. Fresh from the finest springs in Fontaine.” He allowed for a lengthy pause, then went on. “Admittedly, I thought you would’ve been more familiar with the concept.”

“I know what—” You started to defend yourself, then thought better of it – gritting your teeth as you snatched the bottle from the tabletop. It was odorless, unclouded, and as far as you could tell, containing a negligible amount of a foreign entity’s bodily fluids. All good signs, but Neuvillette wasn’t the caretaker type, and he knew you weren’t the type to want to be taken care of. You’d learned, over time, that any explicit display of his fondness for you was to be followed immediately by a demand that you reciprocate that fondness or, more realistically, grit your teeth and bear it while he poured further ‘affection’ onto you. “Is it… Is it supposed to be for me?”

“If you’d like for it to be.”

“And you didn’t put anything—”

“Please, love.” His voice was flat, but gentle. “I’d hate to find myself in the middle of an interrogation so early in the morning.”

You were more than tempted to refuse, but your dry throat and bleary mind provided ample motivation. With no small amount of reluctance, you brought the mouth of the bottle to your lips before pulling it away just as quickly, sending Neuvillette a half-hearted glare. “What are you getting out of this?”

At that, he folded. There was an airy sigh, a slight shake to his head, a notable pause before his answer – less hesitant and more measured, tempered. “As long as you’re under this roof rather than that of the Fortress of Meropide, you’re within my guard. That means your health and well-being is my responsibility, as well as your containment.” You opened your mouth, but he went on before you had the chance to cut in. “Left to your own devices, you’re prone to neglecting yourself. Is it so wrong of me to want to correct that?”

You shrunk into yourself, glowering. You could’ve done without the reminder that he saw your personality as something to ‘correct’, but compared to his methods, nudging you towards hydration was a negligible offense. “Fine,” you muttered, more to yourself than to him. “But don’t get it into your head that I’m some… some incompetent child that’s going to start crying for your help every five seconds.”

His only response was a soft smile, as tender as it was ingenuine.

~

A member of his personal staff left your breakfast (Neuvillette never ate with you – in fact, you were beginning to wonder if he ate at all) in front of the door a few minutes later, and Neuvillette made sure you’d finished the bottle of water, everything on the tray, and an additional glass of bulle fruit juice before he let you dress. Usually, you were allowed to entertain yourself while he attended to his responsibilities as the Iudex, but today, you were taken by the hand and guided to his office – keeping your eyes on the floor as you passed by the secretaries and bureaucrats that populated most of the Palais Mermonia’s administrative floors. You might’ve had Neuvillette’s favor (however much you could’ve gone without it), but in Fontaine, a criminal record wasn’t an easy thing to erase. You tried not to draw too much attention from those who surely thought you should’ve been buried underneath the nearest ocean and forgotten. “I miss you most in the dull hours of the early morning,” he said, when you asked him why you were being denied your usual freedoms. “Bear with me just this once, and I might be able to find time for a stroll through the palace gardens, this afternoon.”

No part of you wanted to spend your day rotting on a loveseat in a dusty corner of his frigid office, but the promise of being able to step outside (a privilege you were rarely afforded) was irresistible. You dutifully nursed a lukewarm cup of bland peppermint tea as he sorted through decade-old casefiles, made a show of gulping down a mug of hot chocolate brought to you by a doe-eyed melusine while Neuvillette reviewed evidence for an upcoming trial, and managed to hold a strained smile when a man with a wide smile and a jarring laugh stopped by with two armfuls of vintage wines – gifts for the Iudex from a wealthy merchant hoping to buy for the favor of Fontaine’s most influential. Since Neuvillette didn’t have a taste for anything with more flavor than morning dew, you were called over to sample each in generous portions as their conversation stretched on and on and on.

By the time the man took his leave, your thoughts were fuzzy around the edges, your lips were stained red, and there was a pressure on your lower stomach that you didn’t care for. You made it about a minute, then another after his departure before pushing yourself to your feet and starting for the door. If you were quick, you shouldn’t have to weather the disdainful looks of too many of Neuvillette’s—

“Dearest?”

You cursed under your breath, glancing over your shoulder. Neuvillette spared a small smile when he caught your eye, tapping his knee. “If you have a moment?”

Your grin faltered. “I… I was hoping to—”

“It’s rather important.”

You pursed your lips, but relented. You’d already done your time. You weren’t going to jeopardize your reward, now.

Irritation written clearly across your expression, you made your way to Neuvillette and, with another tap to his thigh by way of command, clambered into his lap. He positioned you to his preferences; Your legs thrown over one armrest while your back rested against the other, your shoulder pressed gingerly to his chest – the contact minimal, but enough to earn a sigh, a feather-light kiss to your cheek. One of his hands settled on your waist while the other cupped your chin, tracing over your jaw for a moment before dropping lower – to the lace of your low neckline, then your stomach, where it settled. You tried not to squirm as he lowered his head, his cold breath fanning over your neck before his lips came to rest against the side of your throat. “Such a beautiful thing,” he muttered, his voice low enough to reverberate against your skin. “I’ll have to get you another dress in this color. It’s unbearable, just how lovely it looks on you.”

The praise was far from alien, but no less frigid for its familiarity. Whereas his wardrobe seemed to contain only the harshest of blacks, the purest of whites, and the richest of blues, he favored you in softer tones, faded pastels and desaturated hues that always made you feel like a doll, buried in sheets of silk and lace and left to gather dust on a forgotten shelf. The style, too, was a distinct departure from what he preferred for himself; all plunging necklines and full skirts and lacey bodices pulled so tight, you were tempted them to a proper corset. It was far from immodest, even for a setting so formal, but the length of your skirt never seemed to stop his hand from slipping under the many layers of fine material, his gloved fingers skirting over the length of your clothed slit. You felt his lips ghost over the side of your neck, the points of his unnaturally sharp teeth grazing over your jugular, but you shoved him away before he could make contact. “Wait, Neuvillette, I—I don’t—”

Your voice gave out, and Neuvillette raised his head curiously. “Is something wrong, my love?”

“I… I, uh…” You balled your fists in your lap. “I can’t, right now.”

You couldn’t remember ever seeing his smile so wide. “You… can’t?”

“Shut your mouth,” you mumbled, face burning with humiliation. “I… I have to use the restroom.”

It sounded so pathetic, so childish. More out of embarrassment than anything, you moved to stand, but Neuvillette’s sudden stock of mercy had evidently run dry. With an airy laugh, his arm found its way to your waist, his hand slipping under the thin fabric of your panties. Now, he chose not to waste time – the pad of his thumb finding your clit and pushing slow, languid circles into the sensitive bundle of nerves. You couldn’t temper your reaction, your elbow jutting into his chest as you jerked away from his abrupt touch, but Neuvillette held you tight, his fingertips digging into your hip as two of his fingers skimmed over your entrance, the leather of his gloves smooth and freezing against your cunt. Your stomach ached, your eyes flitting unconsciously towards the very much unlocked door of his office, but if Neuvillette noticed your lasting hesitancy, it wasn’t enough to stop him from pressing a lingering, open-mouthed kiss into the corner of your jaw, then the crook of your neck. Usually, you tried to bear his unwanted affection with a silent grimace, but you couldn’t help but shift uncomfortably as he gathered the arousal slowly starting to drip down your thighs. “Neuvillette, I don’t want to—”

“Hush, now. There’s nothing to be afraid of.” Another kiss, this one to the dip of your shoulder. “You don’t have to worry about anything, I’ll take care of you.”

“I’m not worried, I’m—” You started to protest, but Neuvillette cut you off with a sudden nip to the tender patch just above your jugular. You weren’t enjoying this, you didn’t want to enjoy anything, but it would’ve been impossible not to feel something as his cool breath fanned over your neck, your chest, as his thumb fell away and he ground the heel of his palm into your clit, drawing a pained whine out of the back of your throat.

It took a conscious effort to keep your mind off of the fullness sitting heavy in the base of your stomach, to stop yourself from squirming quite so pitifully as he pushed two fingers into you with a cruel sort of ease. His pace was just as slow as it had been when he was only toying with your clit, but you didn’t know whether to curse or be thankful for the lethargic, ebbing way he pumped his digits into you, only ever pausing to spread them apart when his knuckles were flush to your entrance, when he knew he’d be taking advantage of the most vulnerable parts of you. Despite his vice-like hold on your waist, it took a considerable effort to stop yourself from swaying, from shifting, from moving in any way beyond the little, inevitable bucks of your hips you just couldn’t seem to suppress when his fingers brushed against that soft, sensitive spot inside of you. Moving only made it worse. Everything only seemed to make it worse, and it was only getting harder to ignore the pressure mounting against the walls of your bla—

Without warning, the hand on your waist fell to your hip. On moment, you were laid across his lap, and the next, you were straddling his thighs, your back pressed against his chest and your ass slotted against the now unignorable bulge in his pants. Whatever complaints you might’ve had about the previous angle were tripled in an instant. A third finger was forced into your cunt alongside the last two, the stretch immediately turning from awkward to unbearable. You thought you’d gotten used to the size of his hands, his monstrous tongue, even his twin cocks, but suddenly, it was like you were being forced to take him for the first time again, every new quirk and flick of his wrist bringing tears to your eyes, drawing fractured whimpers from deep in your chest. You tried to raise your hands, to cover your face, to make the thought of crying in front of him for the first time in months that much less devastating, but Neuvillette was faster – his hand finding your chin, tilting your head back and tearing away any foolish thoughts you might’ve had about hiding from him. His mouth crashed into yours with enough force to bruise your lips, his tongue shoving its way past your teeth and raking over your own with an almost zealous desperation – a type he rarely showed. His mouth moved against yours for a second, then another before he let out a throaty growl, the noise rough and gravely. If it hadn’t known it was coming from such a refined man, you might’ve taken it for that of an animal. “You still taste like that bastard’s grime.” It was the angriest you’d ever heard him. “To taint such divine purity with such wretched filth – it should be a crime, no, a sin.”

And yet, he was already reaching for the wine glass on the corner of his desk – still half full of a sugared white variety, nearly colorless if it wasn’t for the slight, pinkish tint to its hue. You tried to twist away as he raised the glass to your mouth, but there was nowhere to go, nowhere to run, and it only took a few seconds for him to slot the curved rim against your lips, to tilt the glass back and fill your mouth with sickeningly sweet alcohol. It was too hasty, too clumsy – wine splashing against your face, trickling out of the corner of your mouth despite your feeble attempts to swallow it down and save yourself just an ounce of further embarrassment. You’d barely managed a mouthful when Neuvillette’s patience gave out – the glass falling away, shattering on the floor of his office as his hand dropped to your midriff, groping at your bloated stomach while his fingers pounded into your aching core. “Stop,” you managed, between broken moans. “Stop, Neuvi’, I can’t— I don’t want to— Stop.”

He let you whine and mewl, twisted and thrash, but it didn’t make a difference. Neuvillette only nuzzled into the nape of your neck, laughing as he spoke over your pitiful noises. “It’s alright, love,” he muttered, the harsh edge of his tone softened by heady affection. “You don’t have to fight it. I promise, I’ll take care of you.”

You tried to reach for the edge of his desk, to make one last desperate attempt to pull yourself away from him, but it was already too late. You clenched your eyes shut as you came undone on his fingertips, as some badly beaten wall inside of you finally gave out and an awful, awful warmth sopped into the fabric of your gown and trickled down your thighs. You didn’t want to look, didn’t want to know how bad the damage was, but as Neuvillette nursed you through your stilted climax, you couldn’t stop your eyes from rolling open and dropping to the dark stain slowly spreading in the lap of your skirt, couldn’t stop yourself from hearing Neuvillette’s deep, rumbling groan as your… your accident began to soak into the priceless fabric of his pants. This time, he didn’t stop you when your hands shot up to cover your face, to muffle your broken cries as he finally drew back, pulling out of you entirely for the first time since he hauled you into his lap.

There was a second of stillness, of sweet-nothings muttered into the curve of your throat, but whatever relief you might’ve been able to feel was quickly replaced with a jarring, painful sort of vertigo as Neuvillette’s hands fell to your hips and he lifted you onto his desk – your chest pressed flat to the chilled wood and your ass raised high enough for your shirts to pool around your waist. You sobbed unabashedly as your ruined panties were torn away entirely, as the flat of Neuvillette’s tongue ran over the length of your slit, his saliva only adding to the terrible blend of slick and piss and mess leaking out of you. Any concerns he might’ve held for your pleasure were forgotten as he lapped and licked at your pussy, his tongue fucking shallowly into your cunt as his fingertips bit into your waist. If your nerves hadn’t been so fried, if your mind hadn’t been so clouded with embarrassment and despair and pure, undiluted humiliation, you wouldn’t have been able to feel anything worth salvaging, but somehow, you found little, wavering moans breaking through your incoherent sobbing, something other than pain and pressure beginning to coil in the pit of your stomach. You buried your face in your arms as you clenched around his tongue against your will, as Neuvillette left you whimpering and grinding against his mouth, helpless to stop your pathetic body from doing anything he wanted it to.

It was only when the final aftershocks of your second climax faded and the first pangs of piercing overstimulation began to set in that he pulled away, panting as he straightened his back. He didn’t so much collapse onto you as deliberately drape his form over yours – his chest pressing into your back as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. “Perfect,” he mumbled, voice distant, dream-like. “So perfect for me. You did beautifully.”

Your only response was another wobbling cry, a trembling sniffle. You couldn’t so much as imagine attempting to stand on your own, but Neuvillette didn’t seem to need you to. With one arm wrapped around your midriff and the other underneath the bend of your knees, he pulled you against his chest and hummed softly as you sank into his shoulder, your ruined dress falling into place like a leaden shroud around you. You decided, in that moment, that you would burn it as soon as possible, as thoroughly as possible. Neuvillette’s chambers didn’t have a fireplace and you’d never found so much as a candle within the walls of the Palais Mermonia, but that didn’t matter. You’d get rid of it if you had to break down the furniture for kindling.

“Can I…” You melted further into him, your eyes drooping before shutting entirely. “Can I go back to my room, please?”

“Soon enough.” He pressed a tender, lingering kiss into your temple. In your dazed state, you could nearly miss the scrape of pointed fangs against delicate skin, as he pulled away.

“I believe I promised you a walk through our gardens, first?”

[elysianightsss]

Okay I know this trope has been done time and time again but it’s a fuckingggg classic okay? Okay.

Best friend Johnny who keeps a photo of you in his pocket so he can remind himself what he is fighting to get home to.

Best friend Johnny who’s face lights up as soon as he sees you waiting for him at the airport with one of them big signs saying Johnny on it. It looks like you spent a lot of time hand decorating it.

Best friend Johnny who doesn’t argue when you ask him to stay at your house his first night home, he simply smiles with a nod because why would he ever refuse you.

Best friend Johnny who already has some of his clothes in your drawers for whenever he stays over. Brought over a duffle bag full of some a while ago and just stared filling your drawers.

Best friend Johnny who snoops around after he gets out the shower to see if you’d gotten any new toys while he was away. (You had) he grins while inspecting the new one, not a vibrator this time. No this one was moulded like a real man, very detailed he noticed. He would never tell you how he held it next to his to see the size difference.

Best friend Johnny who grins at you when he comes out of your room freshly cleaned and in new clothes to find you in one of his shirts and just underwear, dancing to the ABBA songs you were playing through Alexa.

Best friend Johnny who dances with you just so he had an excuse to have his hands on you. And oh boy does he, his thick fingers running over your body. Hot breath on your neck as you both laugh.

Best friend Johnny who feels on cloud nine while he makes dinner with you, the domesticity of it all making him yearn for more. The way you’re both moving around each other, flowing and fitting in with each other perfectly.

Best friend Johnny who even though is eating the same thing as you, still tries to feed you with an “Op’n up fa me lass.” Spoon in hand resting softly against your lips waiting patiently for you to accept, “K’mon bonnie.”

Best friend Johnny whose face drops when you tell him all about the date you had been on with a complete and utter douchebag while he was away. You don’t notice the way he freezes at your words, you don’t see the fire behind his eyes.

Best friend Johnny who finally finds the courage within him to say you don’t need to date anyone. You have him. He’s yours, always have been bonnie.

Best friend Johnny who goes crazy when you finally let him touch you. Desperately laps at your pussy, clit swollen and aching as the Scot wraps his lips around it wanting nothing more than to show you how well he can take care of you. How quick he can make you cum all over his tongue.

Best friend Johnny who is the best fuck you’ve ever had in your life. He’s all over you, he’s in your every thought, your every breath. You feel him in your throat when he slides his thick cock into your slick pussy. You’re dripping a mixture of cum and Johnny’s spit.

Best friend Johnny who’s so hot the way he’s desperate for it, pathetically desperate to slap his hips against your ass. The shlick shlick shlick sounds loud in the air with the way his heavy balls slap against your clit sending rolls of pleasure through you with each thrust. “Fuck lass, so pretty! Do ye ken what ye do to me? Dis wee cunt is addictive!”

Best friend Johnny who makes love to you well into the early hours of the morning. You’re a complete dishevelled mess by the time he’s done. Hickies anywhere his mouth could reach, hand marks on your hips, hair a mess, drool on your chin, throat dry and sore from screaming his name and your cunt dripping with his cum. But you fall asleep satisfied with a smile on your swollen lips.

Boyfriend Johnny who kisses you softly all over, whispering praises and I love yous into your skin as he uses a warm flannel to wipe away the sweat and cum from your body.

Boyfriend Johnny who makes you breakfast in bed, all your favourites and some pieces of fruit for healthiness. Who delivers it to you on your bamboo tray, an apron wrapped around him that says ‘I’m cute’ on the front. His naked arse out of full display.

Boyfriend Johnny that watches you eat with a smile on your face and happiness bubbling in his chest.

[navybrat817]

Can lumberjack Bucky take care of me?

Yes, nonnie.

To-Do List

Pairing: Lumberjack!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Bucky shares a list of things to do with you when you wake up. Word Count: Over 600 Warnings: Fluff, pet names, talk of sex, light humor, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: More Burly and Bambi . @tavners, can we manifest this? ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky’s spot on the bed beside you is cool when you wake up and reach for him, seeking out his warmth. You don’t want to start the day cold.

But he’s back in the bedroom before you can get up to look for him, a tray in his hands and a smile on his face as you yawn.

The shirtless sight of your burly man is enough to chase any lingering tiredness away.

“Wanted to surprise you with breakfast in bed, Bambi,” he says as he sets the tray over you and lets you look over the feast he prepared. “You drooling over the food or me?” he teases.

You wipe at your chin, thinking for a moment that you did drool. “Both,” you smile, tucking a strand of his hair behind his ear once he gets back in bed. “What’s the occasion?”

It isn't your birthday and or anniversary. No reason to celebrate anything.

“No reason at all, darling,” he answers, sincerity in his bright eyes before he presses a kiss to your forehead. “Just want to take care of you.”

Your heart flutters because no other guy had ever done anything for you just because they wanted to. “You take very good care of me,” you promise, feeding him a bite.

You watch him lick his lips after his bite, your heart fluttering for an entirely different reason. “This is just a start,” he says, feeding you a bite in return.

You would never turn down his cooking or him feeding you.

“What else could you possibly have planned? You have to work.”

“No work today,” he replies, nodding to a small piece of paper beside the plate.

A smile spreads across your face due to the impromptu day off before you pick up the sheet and scan it, recognizing his handwriting. “‘Burly and Bambi’s To Do List’,” you announce as he chuckles. “Breakfast in bed.”

“Check,” he smiles, feeding you another bite.

“Cuddle in bed,” you continue.

“After breakfast.”

A giggle bubbles up when you read the next thing on the list. “This just says ‘Each other’,” you state, which you would happily help him cross off.

He puts a hand on his chest when you laugh more. “Are you making fun of my list? You wound me.”

“I’m not,” you promise. Any excuse to do your lumberjack, you’ll take it.

“Good. Because I have us doing each other as number 6,” he smirks, your throat dry when his gaze falls to your chest. “And 9.”

You laugh all over again, careful not to shake the tray. “6 and 9? 69? Really?”

“It’s a good number,” he says nonchalantly. “And as your personal lumberjack, I’ll also be happy to split you in half.”

It’s a tempting offer and you’ll take him up on it. “After we eat.”

“Good idea,” he agrees, popping a bite of fruit into his sinful mouth. “You need your strength.”

“Cocky,” you whisper, but he’s right. You do need your strength because he’s insatiable. “You also have watch a movie together and snuggle with a blanket under the stars.”

“I’ll keep you nice and warm,” he promises, gesturing to the sheet. “Flip it over.”

You’re not sure how you manage to hold back tears as you read it, falling more in love with Bucky as you read out loud, “Tell Bambi how much I love her every day.”

He grasps your chin so you can’t hide your face. “I love you, Bambi,” he whispers, pressing his soft lips against yours.

You ask yourself how you’re lucky enough to be his girl as you kiss him back. “I love you, too, Burly.”

And you would tell him every day, too.

These two. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[nibblesgifts]

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[duskylory11]

Decorating Your Kitchen with a Premium Dry Fruit Tray: Elevating Style with Different Designs

The kitchen is often the heart of the home, where family members gather, meals are prepared, and memories are made. It's a space that deserves both functionality and beauty. One easy and effective way to enhance your kitchen decor is by incorporating a premium dry fruit tray. While traditionally viewed as a serving accessory, a well-designed dry fruit wooden tray can also double as a decorative centerpiece, adding an air of luxury and sophistication to your kitchen. In this article, we’ll explore how you can use different designs of dry fruit trays to elevate your kitchen decor and make it stand out.

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A modern dry fruit tray could feature compartments or sections, each holding different types of nuts or dried fruits, presenting a geometric and organized look. By choosing a contemporary design, you’re not just adding a decorative item to your kitchen, but you're enhancing its overall style and sophistication.

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Conclusion

Decorating your kitchen with a premium dry fruit tray is an easy and stylish way to enhance the space's overall ambiance. Whether your kitchen is modern, rustic, or somewhere in between, there’s a dry fruit tray design that can complement your decor. From creating a luxurious centerpiece to adding a rustic touch, the options are endless. With its blend of functionality and aesthetics, a premium dry fruit tray can transform your kitchen into a more inviting, organized, and visually appealing space.

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[81buttons]

'Childcare, skates and kisses'

F1- OS

Franco Colapinto x reader

Summary : Where Franco and you have to spend a day together with your niece

Warnings: So, I kinda realize Idk anything about kids’ ages, so maybe she’s too young for the stuff she’s doing, but whatever, you just play along… lots of fluff ‘cause I really need it. It’s just Franco with kids it’s cute, it’s sweet, that’s all. And maybe a little flirty hint (because, well, it’s Franco) & English is not my first language so sorry :) and i already gave a name to your niece sorry

I’m posting this fic 'cause I’ve had the idea since Vegas. Just to be clear it’s not saying Franco should have kids or anything—he’s still young... It’s just a cute story and it works well since I found out a few days ago that I’m an auntie for the first time,  hiiii !!! To a little niece, so the inspiration came naturally !

NB: Y/B/N = your brother's name

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Franco parked in front of your building, slamming the door of his car with a sigh. He was tired, still a bit out of it from his last trip for a GP, but happy to be back with you after a long race weekend. All he wanted was to curl up in your arms, enjoy your smile, and maybe have a quiet evening together. He knocked softly on the door and waited. A few seconds later, the door opened… but instead of your usual smile, a little girl around five years old, wearing a unicorn pajama, with messy little curls and holding a stuffed animal way too big for her, stood there, looking up at him with a bright smile that reminded him of someone.

— Hi! Who are you? the little girl asked cheerfully.

Franco stammered, clearly confused:

— Uh… hey? And who are you?

He looked behind her, trying to figure out what was going on, but all he could hear was the sound of a cartoon playing in the living room. Before the little girl could answer, you appeared quickly, holding a towel to dry your hands.

— Oh, babe, you’re here! Sorry, I didn’t hear you knock, you said with a soft laugh.

You walked over, lifted your little niece into your arms, kissed her cheek, and gave Franco a quick kiss hello. But Franco, still frozen, couldn’t resist teasing.

— So… do you have something to tell me? Like… we had a baby and you forgot to tell me? he said, raising an eyebrow playfully.

You burst out laughing at his shocked face, and your niece giggled in your arms.

— Silly. This is Emma, my niece. Remember, I told you my brother needed me to look after her today?

Franco sighed, pretending to be relieved:

— Oh, okay. Because I was wondering how I could’ve forgotten something like that. She’s a mini-you, it’s kinda creepy. I thought it was a tiny version of you.

You set Emma down and invited her inside. The little girl, curious, didn’t take her eyes off Franco.

— Are you Uncle Fran? Emma asked excitedly.

Franco raised an eyebrow, glancing at you, amused.

— Uncle Fran? That’s what you call me now?

— I might’ve told her a little about you… She was super excited to meet you, you admitted with a smile.

Franco bent down to look Emma in the eye and pretended to be serious.

— So, you must be… Princess Emma, the mini-version of your auntie Y/N. Nice to meet you, young lady.

Emma burst into laughter and reached her arms out for a hug. Franco, touched, picked her up.

— I hope you didn’t inherit your aunt’s temper, or we’re in trouble.

— No, I’m funnier than her, Emma replied with a laugh.

— Hey! Traitor! you protested, pretending to be offended.

Franco laughed out loud, and you all walked into the apartment. He noticed a tray of cereal, fruit juices, and toast on the table.

— You could’ve told me. I would’ve brought some candy or something, he said.

— Since when you need an excuse to eat candy? you replied, rolling your eyes.

Emma sat down in a chair, but as soon as Franco sat next to her, she climbed onto his lap.

— I want to eat on Uncle Fran’s lap! she declared.

Franco raised an eyebrow, amused.

— Well, princess, you don’t waste any time, do you?

While you made a cup of coffee, you shot a playful look at Franco.

— “Watch out, don’t let those pretty eyes and angel face fool you. She’s going to get you to do whatever she wants,” you warned.

As if to confirm your words, Emma started laughing with an adorable smile. Franco was done for. 

He burst out laughing, beginning to hand her pieces of toast while listening to her chatter about Frozen, the butterflies she learned to draw at school, and her love for unicorns. You watched the scene, amused, as Franco seriously engaged in her conversations, even giving his opinion on unicorns.

When Emma finished her bowl of cereal, she looked up, eyes sparkling.

— Uncle Fran, is it true you’re a race car driver and go super, super fast?

Franco paused dramatically.

— Hmm… who told you that?

— Auntie Y/N, she said mischievously.

Franco looked at you with a teasing smile.

— Oh yeah? You talk about me to everyone, huh?

— Not really. Just to people who care, you replied with a playful look.

Emma tugged at Franco’s sleeve.

— Do you go as fast as Lightning McQueen?

Franco nodded, amused.

— Exactly, mi amor. Like Lightning McQueen, but better.

— And do you always win?

Franco leaned in close, whispering like it was a secret.

— Of course. I’m the best.

From the counter, you burst into laughter and couldn’t help but tease.

— Not always, huh? Sometimes Uncle Fran gets overtaken.

Franco placed a theatrical hand over his heart, pretending to be hurt.

— What’s all this slander? I’m a champion!

Emma, with admiration:

— I think he’s the best!

Franco winked at her and tickled her, causing her to burst into giggles. You watched them, touched by their immediate bond.

You rolled your eyes, but a fond smile played on your lips.

“Alright, champion, since you’re so perfect, could you do me a favor?”

Franco looked at you, a teasing sparkle in his eyes.

“Hmm, depends. What’s the favor?”

You walked up to him, holding a brush and a little flower hair elastic.

“Could you do Emma’s hair while I finish getting ready?”

Emma, hopping with excitement, added:

“I want braids today! Like Elsa!”

Franco raised an eyebrow, confused.

“Braids? You want me to do braids?”

Emma jumped off his lap and ran to grab a blue snowflake hair clip. From across the room, she yelled:

“And my Elsa clip too!”

You crossed your arms, mischievous.

“So, champ, ready to take on the challenge?”

Franco sighed dramatically.

“Fine, okay. But if I mess up, you won’t hold it against me, right Emma?”

Emma trotted back, handing him the clip before sitting down obediently in a chair. Franco stared at the brush in his hands like it was a complicated object.

“So, do I start by brushing? Is that the thing?”

A smirk formed on your face as you sipped your coffee.

“Congrats, you’ve already got the basics down. Keep going, genius.”

Franco began brushing Emma’s curly hair, but the knots made it tricky.

“Ouch, Uncle Fran!”

Franco panicked slightly.

“Oops, sorry, sorry.”

He struggled to separate the strands to make braids, but nothing stayed in place. Passing through the living room, you couldn’t help but smile at the scene.

“Everything okay, champ? Getting through it?”

Franco grumbled in response.

“This is tougher than a gp, your thing.”

You burst out laughing, watching him struggle.

Emma, still cheerful:

“You’re funny, Uncle Fran!”

After several failed attempts, Franco gave up on the braids and went for two pigtails.

“Well, Emma, I think pigtails suit you better than braids. Don’t you think?”

Emma nodded, eyes shining.

“With my Elsa clip?”

Seriously, he pinned the clip to the side and let out a sigh of relief as he admired his work. You came back into the room and inspected the result.

“Well, it’s not perfect, but I’ll admit, you did okay.”

Franco shrugged, pretending to be modest.

“That’s called natural talent”

After breakfast and the hair episode, you suggested a trip to the park. Emma jumped for joy at the idea. Franco, though clearly tired, agreed with a shrug.

“Alright, princess, let’s go to the park. But if you tire me out too much, it’s Aunt Y/N who’s going to have to carry me back.”

You crossed your arms with a smile.

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll end up carrying Emma AND her backpack.”

Emma, already bouncing near the door:

“Yeah, Uncle Fran!”

Franco shot you a teasing glance.

“You see? I’m the favorite here. Sorry, baby.”

Amused, you grabbed your bag while they got ready to leave.

The trio arrived at the park on a beautiful winter’s day. Emma immediately ran towards the playground but quickly turned around.

“Uncle Fran, come with me!”

Slouched on a bench next to you, Franco sighed.

“She’s got too much energy, that little one.”

You chuckled softly.

“Come on, Uncle Fran. Show her you’re the king of the playground.”

With an exaggerated sigh, Franco stood up.

“Fine. But if I get hurt, you’re massaging me tonight.”

You smiled, teasing.

“Watch out for making a fool of yourself instead.”

With a wink in your direction, he went to join Emma, who was eagerly waiting for him…

Emma climbed up the slide and called out to Franco.

“Uncle Franco, look at me!”

With his hands on his hips, Franco responded,

“I’m watching, princess. Show me what you’ve got.”

Emma slid down laughing, arms in the air. Franco clapped loudly.

“Bravo! But you know, I’m the champion of the slide. No one can beat me.”

Emma looked at him, surprised.

“Really?”

To prove his point, Franco climbed up the slide. With his height, he was clearly too big for it. From a distance, you burst out laughing as you watched him get stuck halfway up.

“Need some help, Uncle Fran?” you shouted teasingly.

Struggling to move, Franco replied,

“No, no, I’m fine!”

Emma, cracking up, encouraged him.

“Uncle Fran, you’re too big for the slide!”

Finally, Franco managed to slide down, landing in the sand, covered in dust. He stood up, proudly brushing himself off.

“There you go, mission accomplished!”

You gently teased him.

“Yeah, really impressive…”

Walking over to you with a mischievous grin, Franco said,

“Jealous? Want to try it, baby?”

You shook your head, amused.

“No thanks. I like to keep my dignity.”

After a busy morning, you all sat down on a blanket while Emma played, building castles in the sandbox.

You said to Franco, a bit admiring,

“You’re really good with kids.”

Franco shrugged, pretending to be modest.

“Of course. Kids love me. I’m irresistible.”

You rolled your eyes, smirking.

“Still as humble as ever. You know that doesn’t work if you’re the one complimenting yourself?”

Franco winked at you.

“You’re lucky, Y/N. I like your brother, but I like his little princess even more.”

You let out a playful laugh.

“And now I have to deal with two kids…”

You both burst out laughing, interrupted by Emma, who came running toward you, super excited.

“Look at my castle, it’s so pretty, right?”

After their trip to the park, you all returned to the apartment. Emma, full of energy despite the already busy morning, didn’t seem ready to calm down.

“Uncle Fran, can we play a game?!” she squealed, bouncing up and down.

Sinking into the couch, Franco gave her a tired smile.

“A game? But I’m an old, tired man…”

Emma placed her hands on her hips, her face determined.

“You’re not old, Uncle Fran! You’re just lazy!”

You burst out laughing, sitting next to Franco: “She got you there,” you teased.

Franco raised an eyebrow, pretending to be offended.

“Lazy, me? Alright, little princess, what game do you want to play?”

Emma clapped her hands, excited.

“Hide and seek!”

Franco raised his hands in surrender.

“Okay, but I’m warning you, I’m the king of hide and seek. No one’s ever found me.”

Emma crossed her arms, determined.

“We’ll see about that!”

And so, the game began.

Franco slowly gets up, stretching exaggeratedly, before signaling to Emma.

“Alright, it’s you who counts, little spy. But no cheating, okay?”

Emma closes her eyes, placing her hands in front of her face.

“I’m counting to ten. Get ready, Uncle Fran!”

Franco gives you a quick glance, a mischievous smile on his lips.

“Watch closely, baby. I’m about to prove I’m the best,” he whispers.

You roll your eyes, amused.

Emma starts counting out loud.

“One… two… three…”

Franco quietly runs through the apartment, looking for a hiding spot. He hesitates between hiding behind the living room curtains or in the bathroom bathtub, but finally decides to lie down behind the couch.

Emma finishes counting.

“Ten! Here I come!”

She opens her eyes and looks around.

“Hmmm… where’s Uncle Fran?”

She walks through the living room, checking behind the curtains, then turns to you.

“Auntie Y/N, do you know where he is?”

You give her a teasing smile.

“Maybe. But I won’t tell you.”

Emma squints her eyes, as if she suspects something.

“You’re kidding! That means he’s close by!”

She runs into the living room, circling the couch. Franco, lying on the floor, deliberately lets part of his shoe stick out.

Emma lets out an excited shout.

“A-ha! I found you, Uncle Fran!”

Franco pretends to jump in surprise.

“Noooo! How did you do that?!”

Emma bursts out laughing.

“I’m too good!”

Franco stands up, lifts her into the air, and spins her around gently.

“Okay, okay, you’re the best. But now, it’s your turn to hide.”

Emma runs off to hide, her laughter echoing through the apartment. Franco turns to you.

“She’s probably going to pick an obvious spot, right?”

You shrug with a smile.

“Maybe. But pretend to have trouble finding her, or she’ll get upset.”

Franco nods, playing along, and starts searching loudly.

“Hmmm… maybe she’s here?” he says, deliberately checking under a cushion.

“Nope.”

He moves toward the kitchen and opens a cupboard.

“Or here? Still nothing… Where could she be?”

Emma, hiding under the table with a tablecloth hanging all the way to the floor, tries to hold in her laughter. Franco walks past the table, then stops, glancing at you.

“This is impossible. She’s evaporated,” he says dramatically.

You join in on the game.

“Maybe she snuck back home.”

Franco pretends to panic. Emma bursts out laughing, giving away her hiding spot. Franco suddenly turns his head.

“What?! That sound?!”

He quickly crouches down, lifts the tablecloth, and finds Emma, who’s laughing uncontrollably.

“A-ha! Gotcha!” he exclaims, grabbing her.

He lifts her onto his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, making her laugh even harder.

After several rounds of hide-and-seek, Emma, tired, settled onto Franco’s lap on the couch. She was playing with his hair while he held her gently. Sitting next to them, you watched the scene with a soft smile.

You rest your head on Franco’s shoulder, happy to see him being so sweet with your niece. This simple but perfect moment of closeness reminded you once again why you loved him.

A little later, Franco insisted on making something, even though he wasn’t exactly a master chef.

Franco, rummaging through the fridge: “Let’s see… Eggs, cheese, ham… Perfect, I’m making you an omelette.”

You cross your arms, a teasing smile on your lips.

“An omelette? How original… Should we call a food critic to rate it?”

Franco taps his chest, feigning offense.

“Babe you’re talking to a master of simple, efficient cooking. I can make meals with an even emptier fridge. Get ready to be impressed.”

You hold back a laugh.

“You don’t make them, you order them.”

Franco rolls his eyes, amused.

“Yeah, well… We do what we can, okay?”

Emma, sitting at the table, watches him with admiration.

“I want an omelette with lots of cheese, Uncle Fran!”

Franco turns to her with a smile.

“Of course, princesa. Anything you want. But if Auntie Y/N keeps doubting my chef skills, she’ll get a tiny omelette.”

You shake your head, amused, and decide to set the table while Franco prepares the meal.

After lunch, Emma enjoys a yogurt, but your phone rings. It’s your brother. You pick up immediately.

“Hello? Oh, Y/B/N, are you okay?”

On the other end, your brother sounds stressed. He explains that he’s stuck at work because of an unexpected emergency and won’t be able to pick up Emma as early as planned.

“Can you pass me the phone, please? I need to explain it to her.” your brother asks.

You look down at Emma, who’s playing with her spoon, and hand her the phone.

“Emma, it’s your dad. He wants to talk to you.”

Emma eagerly takes the phone.

“Hi, Daddy! Are you coming soon?”

In a soft but apologetic voice, her dad explains that he won’t be able to come because of work. Emma nods, but her smile fades.

“Okay, Daddy…”

She hands the phone back to you, clearly disappointed.

Seeing the little girl sad, Franco sets his napkin down and kneels next to her.

“Hey, princess. Why the long face?”

Emma, her eyes downcast:

“Daddy was supposed to take me to see Santa and have a big hot chocolate. But he can’t come…”

Franco thinks for a second, then claps his hands.

“Alright, here’s what we’re gonna do. What if me, Auntie Y/N, and you go see Santa together?”

Emma looks up, her eyes sparkling.

“Really? You’d come with me?”

Franco, with a big grin:

“Of course! And I promise we’ll get the biggest hot chocolate we can find.”

You cross your arms, teasing:

“And I’m supposed to carry all the gift bags, right?”

Franco raises an eyebrow.

“Obviously. Who else?”

Emma bursts out laughing, her mood completely lifted.

A few hours later, you arrive at the mall, lit up with Christmas decorations and twinkling lights. Santa is sitting in a big red chair, surrounded by fake presents and a giant Christmas tree.

Emma, jumping with excitement while holding Franco’s hand, looks at you eagerly.

“Uncle Franco, do you think Santa will recognize me?”

Franco, with a serious smile, replies,

“Oh, of course. Princesses like you, he never forgets them.”

You can’t help teasing the little one.

“And maybe he’ll ask you why you didn’t listen to Uncle Franco when he told you to eat your vegetables at lunch.”

She stares at you, horrified.

“No! Uncle Fran, did you tell him?”

Franco bursts out laughing.

“No, mi amor, I’ve got your back. But next time, eat your veggies, okay?”

She nods vigorously, clearly relieved.

When it’s finally her turn to meet Santa, Emma climbs onto his lap, her eyes sparkling. You take out your phone to capture the moment, while Franco, next to you, can’t take his eyes off her, touched by the sight.

“She’s really adorable. She looks so much like you.”

You shoot him a playful look.

“At least she doesn’t have your ego, though.”

He pretends to be offended but just smiles, absorbed in watching Emma happily chat with Santa.

A little later, Franco insists that you all go to the mall’s café. He orders a hot chocolate with lots of whipped cream for Emma, a coffee for you, and a hot chocolate for himself.

He shows his cup to Emma with a smile.

“See? Even big guys like me love hot chocolate.”

The little one bursts into laughter.

“With lots of whipped cream, like me?”

“Exactly.”

You watch them, amused, rolling your eyes but unable to hold back your smile.

As you leave the mall, Emma, holding Franco’s hand and hopping with joy after her huge hot chocolate, spots an ice rink set up outside, surrounded by twinkling lights and Christmas music.

“Ohhh, Auntie Y/N, Uncle Fran, look! An ice rink! Can we go, please?”

You furrow your brow, eyeing the ice. “Oh, um… I don’t know, Emma. It looks slippery, and dangerous, and…”

“But, Auntiiiee… I just want to try, just a little bit!” She gives you that irresistible puppy-dog look.

Franco, next to her, grins slyly. “Come on, love. Let her have some fun. She’s small, and there are helpers to guide them.”

You sigh, already knowing you’re going to give in. Emma knows exactly how to make you crack. “Alright, fine. But only if she has all the safety gear.”

“Yessss! Thank you, Auntie Y/N!”

Once at the rink, you find a helper ready to assist the kids on the ice. Emma, equipped with skates, a helmet, and elbow pads, looks like a little doll in her pink puffer jacket and matching gloves.

She awkwardly glides on the ice, laughing out loud and sometimes holding onto the barriers or the helper. Franco, by your side, watches her with a fond smile.

“Look at her. She’s adorable. A real champion.”

You smile, touched. “Yeah, and so brave. I could never do that.”

Franco turns to you, a teasing smile on his lips. “Never? You mean you’ve never skated before?”

“I have, when I was little. But I was awful. I kept falling. And I’m not about to embarrass myself today.”

“Baby, that’s part of the fun. Besides, I’m here. I’ll hold you up. I promise.”

You hesitate, looking at him. “Franco, no. I’m definitely going to fall.”

He insists, a charming smile on his face. “If you fall, I’ll catch you. I’m your safety net.”

You roll your eyes, but Emma, from the ice, starts cheering you on.

“Auntie Y/N! Come skate with us! It’s so fun!”

After a lot of persuasion, you finally agree to put on skates. Franco holds out his hand to help you onto the ice.

“Oh my God, it’s so slippery. I’m going to die,” you murmur as you put one foot on the ice.

Franco laughs softly. “Baby, it’s an ice rink, and I’m right here. Relax.”

You grab his arms immediately, refusing to let go. “I’m warning you, if I fall, I’m killing you.”

“If you fall, we’ll fall together. It’ll be romantic,” he teases.

With a lot of effort and you clinging to him like an octopus, you move slowly on the ice. Franco chuckles as he guides you. “Baby, you know you’re supposed to move your feet, right? You’re just hanging onto me.”

“I’m moving my feet, you liar! It’s just… Aaaah, that guy’s going to run into us!”

A fast skater passes by, and you panic, losing your balance.

As you slide backward, Franco tries to catch you but loses his balance too, and you both end up on the ground, laughing uncontrollably.

“I told you I was going to fall!” you say between laughs.

“Yeah, but you could’ve avoided dragging me down with you!” He laughs too, lying on the ice.

Emma, having seen the whole scene, approaches slowly with the helper’s help.

“Auntie Y/N! Uncle Fran! Why are you on the ground?”

You try to get up, still laughing. “Because your Uncle Fran is terrible at skating.”

“Hey! You fell first!” Franco retorts, helping you get back up.

He rubs your back, concerned despite his smile.

“You didn’t hurt yourself, did you?”

You shake your head. “No, I’m fine. Just my ego.”

“Your ego can take it. But let’s call it a day, okay?”

You both make your way to the edge of the rink while Emma continues to skate joyfully with the helper. Your cheeks are still red, and you glance at Franco.

“I hate you for making me do that.”

He plants a kiss on your temple, smiling.

“No, you love me.”

“Hmm… Maybe. But don’t expect me to get back on that ice.”

Franco smiles, wrapping his arm around your shoulders as you both watch Emma laugh and skate, full of energy.

After their crazy day at the mall and the ice rink, Franco, Emma, and you finally make it back home. Emma’s cheeks are still rosy from the cold, but she’s buzzing with energy, even after everything. Franco’s got her in his arms, and she’s wiggling around happily.

“Uncle Franco, do you think we can have some candy before dinner?” she asks, eyes wide with hope.

Franco grins, teasing. “Candy? Well, you know, candy are only for good kids mi amor. Are you sure you’ve been good today?”

Emma pulls the most adorable pout. “Yes! I’ve been good!”

You can’t help but laugh as you take off your coat, watching their back-and-forth. “Franco, stop messing with her, she’s been perfect all day. Plus, you’re the first one to cave when she gives you those puppy eyes.”

He raises an eyebrow at you, still playful. “Hey, it’s not my fault she has your look. How am I supposed to resist?”

While Emma settles in the living room with some toys, you and Franco get started on dinner in the kitchen. You’re chopping veggies while he’s distracted, digging around in the fridge. But it’s clear his mind’s not really on food. When he shuts the fridge door, you can feel him right behind you before he even says a word.

Without looking back, you call out, “Franco, I know you’re there. Don’t even think about it, I’m busy.”

“Me? I just wanted to… watch,” he says in a teasing, innocent voice.

You feel his hands rest lightly on your hips, and he leans in close to your ear, his voice low and soft. “But honestly, babe, after a day like today, I think I deserve a little reward.”

You roll your eyes, a playful smile on your lips. Holding your knife, you turn slightly towards him. “Franco, Emma is literally three feet away. Can you calm down a bit?”

“Calm? Me? Baby, I’m perfectly calm.” His hands glide gently over your hips, pulling you a little closer to him.

You feel his warm breath on your neck as he adds in a more provocative tone, “But you know, I missed you, and it’s your fault. With you in the same room as me… How am I supposed to stay focused?”

A soft laugh escapes you, though you try to keep a straight face. “Franco, let go of me. And stop with your nonsense before I cut you off a finger.”

He leans in further to plant a light kiss just below your ear, making your cheeks heat up. “Oh, I promise I can distract you in a much more fun way…”

Blushing, you say, “Franco!” before turning completely around to try to push him away. But he stays right where he is, that cocky grin you know so well on his lips.

“What? I’m just trying to help…” He glances down at the cutting board, then back up at you, amused. “But honestly, cutting carrots isn’t really my thing. I prefer when you do other things with your hands…”

You’re left speechless, shocked by his insinuation, but before you can respond, he bursts out laughing.

“Franco, I swear, if you keep this up, you’re sleeping on the couch tonight,” you say, crossing your arms.

He tilts his head with a charming smile. “On the couch? Oh, babe, you know I can’t sleep far from you.”

He moves even closer, his lips almost brushing yours. “And neither can you,” he whispers.

You roll your eyes, but he sees your smile starting to give away your amusement. “You’re impossible, do you know that?”

“Oh, I know. But admit it, that’s why you love me.”

Before you can reply, he captures your lips in a soft kiss that quickly turns more passionate. You both completely forget where you are.

A little voice suddenly rings out from the kitchen entrance. “Ewwww!”

You both jump apart, caught red-handed. Emma stands in the doorway, hands on her hips, with an exaggerated grimace.

“What are you doing? Why are you kissing like that? It’s disgusting!”

Franco takes a small step back, a mischievous smile on his lips, while you turn bright red. “Nothing at all, Emma. Uncle Franco is just… annoying,” you quickly reply.

Emma, narrowing her eyes, asks curiously, “Annoying? Why? Did he steal a candy?”

Franco laughs and crouches down to Emma’s level. “No, little princess, it’s because your Aunt Y/N is really beautiful, and I love giving her kisses. And even though she pretends otherwise, I promise you she loves when—”

A well-placed dish towel smacks him on the shoulder, and interrupts his sentence. He rubs his shoulder, laughing out loud, before adding, “Plus, you see, princess. If I had stolen a candy, I’m sure Aunt Y/N would have already punished me.”

You hold your head in your hands, tired of his antics, while Emma looks at him skeptically before changing the subject.

“I’m hungry. Is it ready?”

“Not yet, sweetheart. Give us five minutes,” you say with a smile.

She nods and heads back to the living room, but not without a final warning. “Uncle Fran, be careful. If you bother Aunt too much, I’ll tell Santa.”

Franco raises his hands, amused. “Promise, princess, I’ll be good.”

You shake your head with a mix of amusement and frustration. “See what you’ve done? Even Emma is wary of you now.”

He shrugs. “But baby, I can also try to be really good with you… but I’m not sure you’ll like that version.”

You give him a light elbow in the ribs, but your laughter betrays you—despite everything, you adore him

After dinner, you all crash on the couch.

“Auntie Y/N, can we watch Frozen?” Emma asks, her big eyes all hopeful, her stuffed animal gripped tight like it’s her lifeline.

You laugh, shaking your head.

“Again? Haven’t we watched it, like, ten times already this year?”

Franco, clearly enjoying this, jumps in.

“Come on, babe, don’t be a buzzkill. Let It Go is a masterpiece. I’m all in.”

You look at him, half amused, half annoyed.

“Really, Franco? Don’t encourage her, she’ll want to watch it three times tonight.”

Franco grins and winks at you.

“I’m ready to duet with her if that’ll win you over.”

Emma bursts out laughing, clapping her hands.

“Yes, Uncle Fran, sing with me!”

You roll your eyes but give in anyway.

“Alright, alright. But you two watch and sing, and I’ll just chill and nap through it like always.”

You all settle on the couch: Franco in the middle, you on his left, and Emma on his right, all snuggled up with her stuffed animal. The movie starts, and Emma is totally hooked from the opening scene. Franco, though, keeps sneaking glances at you, grinning as you try not to give in to the song.

Franco, whispering: “Admit it, you’re gonna get up and dance when Elsa sings.”

You glance at him, not buying it.

“In your dreams, Colapinto.”

“Oh, trust me, my dreams are way better than that.”

You nudge him playfully, but he grabs your hand and kisses it gently, still smiling.

“Ugh, stop kissing!” Emma says, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

You laugh out loud, and Franco raises his hands in mock surrender.

“Okay, princess, no more kisses in front of you. Promise.”

Emma nods happily and turns back to the movie.

As the movie goes on, Emma starts blinking slowly, her energy fading fast. You’ve leaned your head against Franco’s shoulder, half asleep yourself. Franco wraps an arm around your waist, the other one around Emma, who’s finally asleep against him, her stuffed animal still clutched tight.

Franco, whispering, glancing at you: “She’s pretty cute, huh?”

You close your eyes, barely mumbling.

“Yeah, she is. You’re not too bad as Uncle Fran either.”

Franco smiles softly and plants a kiss on top of your head.

Soon enough, all three of you are knocked out.

An hour later, your brother arrives, using his spare key after knocking with no answer. He freezes when he walks in, seeing you and Franco both out cold on the couch, with Emma curled up between you two, her stuffed animal still held close.

He stands there for a second, just watching, a soft smile on his face. Finally, you wake up a little, hearing a noise. You open your eyes, confused, and jump when you see your brother.

“Whoa, you scared me!” you whisper, panicked.

Your brother grins and says, “I’m here to pick up Emma. But… honestly, you guys are cute like this.”

Blushing, you sit up carefully so you don’t wake Emma.

“I’ll wake Franco.”

You shake him lightly, and he blinks his eyes open, looking half-dazed.

“What? What’s going on? Let me sleep a bit longer, please…”

You laugh, saying, “Wake up, my brother’s here to get Emma.”

Franco slowly sits up, but Emma, still asleep, clings to him like a little koala.

“No… stay…” she mumbles, half awake.

Franco gives you a soft look and smiles.

“I’ll carry her to the car.”

Franco walks your brother to the car with Emma in his arms. She stirs a little but doesn’t wake fully, and Franco takes advantage of that to buckle her into the car seat without a fight.

Your brother, smiling, says, “Thanks for watching her. She had a great day.”

Franco, grinning: “It was fun. She’s awesome, your little one.”

Just before leaving, your brother adds, “Hey, you guys mind keeping her next weekend? Just for a night?”

Before you can answer, Franco jumps in.

“Of course! We’d love to!”

You chuckle and shake your head.

“He’s gonna steal her from you, watch out.”

You all laugh before saying goodbyes.

When you and Franco finally got home, you were completely exhausted. Franco shut the door behind you, kicking off his shoes with a sigh of relief, while you collapsed on the couch, arms spread out like you’d just finished a marathon.

“Man, I didn’t think a five-year-old could be so… energetic.”

Franco flopped down next to you.

“She’s adorable, but yeah… I’m wiped. How does your brother survive every day? Does he have special training or something?”

You burst out laughing, resting your head on his shoulder.

“It must be in their DNA. I still haven’t recovered from today.”

Franco wrapped an arm around you, a mischievous grin on his face.

“So, Colapinto, you thinking about starting a career in babysitting?”

“Maybe. I mean, I’m pretty good at it.”

“Admit it, you’re a little jealous that Emma preferred me. She wanted to hang out with Uncle Fran all day.”

You rolled your eyes.

“Oh, stop. She liked you because you spoiled her. Mr. ‘I’ll skate, sing Let It Go, and have a tea party dressed as a princess with an Elsa headband.’ I can’t compete with that.”

Franco, amused, protested.

“What?! I looked amazing in that headband, and you know it.”

“Amazing, maybe. Ridiculous, definitely.”

You both burst into laughter, your shoulders shaking with exhaustion. Franco turned slightly toward you, his playful look softening into something more serious.

“Honestly, though, I had a great day. Emma’s awesome. But you weren’t bad either. Even though you freaked out on the ice and ended up falling into me.”

You gave him a mockingly outraged slap on the arm.

Franco gave you a heated look.

“What? I’m just saying you were irresistible. You remember on the ice? Clinging to me like your life depended on it? It was almost sexy, babe.”

“Stop teasing me! I thought we were gonna die out there!”

Franco smiled, one corner of his mouth twitching up.

“Die? A little dramatic, don’t you think?”

Blushing, you snapped back.

“Stop it! And I remind you, it’s your fault we fell.”

“Me?! Baby, I was holding you, but you panicked like we were about to die. You were literally clinging to me like I was your last hope.”

You gave him a soft tap on the shoulder.

“Well, you were supposed to be my last hope, Mr. Know-It-All.”

You both laughed again, but this time, the laughter faded, leaving a softer silence between you. Franco looked at you, his teasing expression giving way to something more serious.

“You know… watching her today, playing with her… it got me thinking.”

You looked at him curiously.

“Thinking about what?”

“About us. Maybe one day. Not now, obviously! I know it’s not the time. But… have you ever imagined yourself, you know, with a kid?”

You paused for a moment, your face showing a mix of surprise and tenderness.

“Honestly… I don’t know. It’s scary, right? Being a parent, it’s so much responsibility. And look at me, I couldn’t even convince a little girl to put on her hat properly today.”

Franco smiled softly, running a hand through his hair.

“Yeah, but you’d be amazing. Seriously. You have this way of making everything seem easier. Even today, with Emma, you were great.”

To lighten the mood, you teased him.

“Great? Are you sure we lived through the same day?”

“Absolutely. You were sweet, caring… a little panicked on the ice, but hey, nobody’s perfect.”

You laughed, nudging him lightly.

“And you? Mr. Perfect Uncle Fran. You really see yourself as a dad?”

Franco took a deep breath, thinking it over.

“Yeah… I think I could be. Today, when Emma looked at me with those big eyes and asked if I could carry her… it was like I really mattered to her, you know? And… I liked it.”

You looked at him, a soft smile pulling at your lips.

“You know, you’d be a really great dad.”

Franco turned his head toward you, a playful glint in his eyes.

“Is that a subtle way of telling me something, babe?”

You laughed quietly, shaking your head.

“No, not yet. But I see it, you’ve got a way with kids. She adores you. And you were amazing with her. I think you’d be an incredible dad.”

Franco shrugged, feigning indifference.

“Of course I would be. With you by my side, we’d make an awesome team.”

You gave him an amused look.

“You really know how to flatter a girl, huh?”

Franco gently pulled you closer.

“I’m just telling the truth. And who knows? Maybe one day, our little boy or girl will beg you to sing Let It Go with me.”

You burst into laughter, resting your head against his chest.

“If that happens, we’ll have to wait a while. For now, we’ve got a lot on our plates. But maybe one day…”

Franco kissed your forehead, gently squeezing your hand.

“One day, then. But only if you promise not to freak out on the ice in front of our future kid.”

“Promise… but only if you promise never to wear an Elsa headband again.”

You both laughed again, and you snuggled a little closer to him. The day had been long, but in this quiet moment, everything felt just right. Together.

[giftdubaionline]

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[opiopal]

thinking about mams being a good boyfriend cuz I need it rn lol.

imagine being at a party at Lord Diavolo’s castle. It’s noisy and crowded, and every single person there seems so important, and mc just can’t seem to figure out if it’s ok to say hi or even look anyone in the eyes. Their outfit is… nice, but it’s uncomfortable in all the wrong places and they can’t help but feel a little insecure and intimidated by everything. They’re trying their hardest to stay by themselves, off to the side, but every single glance from anyone at all makes their face grow red in embarrassment. they start to fumble with their hands, pulling and picking at their nails and the dead skin around the area. It’s a bad and nasty habit and they know. but they had nothing else to fidget with to get their anxiety to go away, and they simply just can’t help it right now.

just then they feel a hand gently grab onto one of theirs and carefully pulls it away from them, of course they jump a little and then their head to see who’s grabbing them-only to be met with the familiar and handsome face of their boyfriend. he avoids eye contact for a moment to look around the room before turning to look at them, he looks calm but it’s obvious he knows very well how stressed they are right now. he scoots closer to them, intertwining their fingers as he gently squeezes their hand, he offers them the glass he was holding, which was really just some sort of fruit juice, it was obvious it wasn’t one of the multiple fancy alcoholic drinks that were being served, at least it didn’t taste like it was. Honestly it was hard to tell if it was something that was actually being offered by the multiple servants walking around with trays in hand. mc quickly chugs down the drink to get rid of the dry sensation in their mouth, they set it down on a near by table and simply scoots closer to their boyfriend, reaching over and grabbing his hand with both of theirs now as they press their forehead to his shoulder. Squeezing their eyes shut.

his free hand carefully yet firmly rubs against their back as he leans his head down and mumbles to them,

“do you want to go home?”

Mc nods,

“alright, then let’s go” ”but what if someone notices..?” “Well then they can go kick rocks. If you don’t wanna be here then you shouldn’t be forced to. I’d rather deal with my brother scoldin me for hours then you have to be here for another second, ya hear?”

Mc falls silent again before nodding, he moves his hand to the back of their neck and gently kisses their forehead, then wraps his arm around them to exit the ballroom without being noticed by anyone.(especially luci.)

back at the HOL they both decide that his room would be the best to hangout in for the time being, they both throw off their formal wear as soon as they possibly can, and as mc puts on something much more comfortable and less itchy, mams makes a run downstairs to the kitchen to get them some snacks. once they feel they’ve got everything they need, they both snuggle with each other, most likely with a movie playing on his projector in the background, though they clearly aren’t focused on it much. They both sat there in silence, mc had their head laid against his chest as his arms draped around them and his hands were slowly rubbing their back, mc closes their eyes and breaths in slowly,

“this is better.” ”i agree,” ”I love you,” ”i love you more,” ”that’s physically impossible by the way,”

They both giggle as mc turns their head to look at him, and they share a quick kiss before finally turning their attention to the movie.

[lemon-russ]

Sometimes I just want to take care of Mortarion, cook for him, give him a nice bath, with a massage and take care of his skin with soft lotions, so I can get my hands all over him. And then wrap him in a soft fuzzy bathrobe and tuck him into a freshly made bed. That boy needs someone to take care of him, and he sure as fuck isn't going to do it himself

I got carried away, partially because @moodymisty won't stop talking about the stinky nasty man and I NEEDED to wash him.

Get cleaned, idiot.

Tags: @sleepyfan-blog @undeaddream @scriberye @lisikk,

and thank you for dividers @squishyowl

Mortarion x F!Reader

(Actually i dont think there's any reference to the reader actually being fem?)

CW: kinda gross Mortarion stuff, vague suggestiveness

Word count: ~2000

Mortarion trudges through the threshold to your shared chambers. You gasp and shoot up from your seat where you had been reading. He'd been gone for months on a mission, and you weren't expecting him home for a month still.

“Mortarion!” you say, rushing to his side. He blinks slowly, turning his tired gaze onto you. He takes a moment to fulky process you're there.

“I… return.” He rasps through his mask.

You frown, seeing the grey circles gathered under his eyes, his gaunt cheeks. He always looked ill, but today he looked a foot in the grave.

“You look exhausted, my love.” You say gently, leading him to a chair. He sits with a soft groan, slumping back and letting his head roll back. His robes are dirty and stiff from being worn so long, and you wrinkle your nose. You're glas the serfs brought fresh laundry today.

“It was a long, long ordeal…” he rasps again. You sit on the arm of the chair and push back his hood from his face. His grey hair, greasy and dust caked, falls around his face to his shoulders. You ran a hand along his cheek and he looked up at you tiredly with his cloudy green eyes.

“Here-” you say softly, standing, “you must have not had a decent meal in weeks, let me get you something-”

He blinks, scrunching his brow and raising a pallid hand a bit as you scurry away from the chair.

“You don't have- come, we have serfs for that-” he weakly protests, but you're already out the door.

You return quickly with a spread of cheeses, fruits, meats, and some wine. Mortarion couldn't get drunk, but he sometimes enjoyed the taste. You place it on the sidetable nearby, hopping back next to him. This time he places an arm around your side, but carefully as not to touch you.

His pale eyes soften at the plate. “…thank you. That is… very kind.” He says, reaching for his respirator.

You watch him take the gas infusing mask off, and wince when he starts gasping rattling sounds. You hand him a cloth to cough into, and rub his wide back as he hacks and wheezes while his lungs struggle to rebuild themselves enough to breathe unaltered air. When he's able to breath mostly uninhibited, he swallows a few times and looks up at you again, a thin sweat on his brow.

“You don't have to… always stay with me, when I take off the mask…” he croaks weakly. You smile and give a soft sigh.

“It's alright. I can handle it.” You say gently. You bring him over the tray, and he scrunches his nose and coughs when a tart fruit hits his tongue. He instead gulps some wine, then sighs.

“Tastes… awful, at first.” He mumbles in his hoarse voice.

“I know, my love.” You soothe, rubbing his shoulder and ignoring the dust and blood caked robes. “But your taste will kick back in soon like always.”

You slide off the chair again, and his dry, paled lips give a small frown. You smile back. “I'm going to run you a bath while you snack.” You say, flittering over to some cabinets. You start gathering scented herbs and oils and soaps.

Mortarion gives a resignated sigh. “Very well, then… I have… learned better than to fight with you on this. Go make your soup.” He gruffs, halfheartedly waving a hand your way.

You giggle. He may give you attitude about it, but you suspect some part of him liked the comfort and attention, as antithetical to his personality as it was. But he had to keep up appearances.

You leave him to his food, hearing him occasionally cough over a bite, and head to your bathroom. You asked Mortarion to build a spacious bathroom when he asked how you wanted your chambers. He delivered, a large heated bath pool set into the floor, big enough that he could sit fully submerged. You turn on the water and throw in the oils and herbs.

Ginger, because he looked like his muscles were sore, and it helps his throat and cough. Lavender and chamomile, to help with the stress you could see in his tense shoulders. And some jasmine scented epsom salt for- well, everything else going on with his cracking, healing skin. Plus, you like the smell.

When the pool was sufficiently full, you return to him, now resting with his head back and an empty tray. You smile, content that he has real food in him, and gently take one of his hands in both of yours. You purse your lips at how bony his knuckles feel.

He cracks a red rimmed eye at you. “Is there something you'd like?” He asks, voice sounding a tad clearer.

You pout. “Come, before the water cools.”

He lets out a deep, rattling sigh, but seems too tired to argue. He rises with a groan, and dredges after you as you lead him to the bathroom.

His clothes are… well. They're going in the burn pile. Mortarion doesn't do laundry, so much as replace clothes. The serfs enjoy the lack of washing, but the tailors don't love the constant sewing of huge outfits.

He watches you, expression unreadable as you start undoing his various belts and ties. You free his hooded robe, and he helps you slide it off his shoulders, leaving him bare armed in a loose, sleeveless tunic. You undo the belt to that, fumbling with the knot around his hips, and glance up at him when you notice he's staring.

His face looks taught, and your brow knits. “My love…?”

He squeezes his tired eyes shut, making a small noise. “Its- nothing.” He hisses, turning his head away.

You frown, but shrug and go back to fiddling with the tied fabric. The dirt seems to have made the knot hard to loosen, but you manage to free it, and toss it aside and start tugging at his soiled tunic. He groans a little, but leans to help you tug it off. He kicks off his boots himself, and when you reach for his pants, he gently grabs your wrist, dwarfing it in his hands.

“I can manage the rest.” He says, voice strained. You smile and step back, watching as he peels the pants off. He gives you a look, before sighing and peeling his loincloth off as well. You don't know why he makes a spectacle of getting undressed. You've seen it all before. And more.

You giggle, but move a stool over for him. He sits, and lets you take buckets from the bath to rinse off the more offensive dust and grime. You'd prefer his bath not immediately turn black when he touches it.

When he's rinsed, he trudges tiredly over to the pool and lowers himself in. He hisses through his teeth as the water hits his cracked skin, but lowers in anyway, leaning so only his head is unsubmerged. His grey hair- brighter now without so much filth- splays across the tiles. You smile and sit behind him cross-legged on the floor.

You drizzle some flowery scented shampoo on his hair, and start massaging your fingers into his scalp as it lathers. He sighs a deep breath, sinking into the pool a little more. It takes a few rinses and lathers before you're confident his hair is actually clean, but his dull gray hair is now shiny silver once again.

You undress yourself next, and he tilts his head up to peek at you as you do. You giggle. Again, he acts like you aren't getting in the bath lole this. You slip in with him, his eyes never leaving you.

“What?” You chuckle softly.

His eyes roam your body, and he almost smiles the tiniest bit. “Nothing. Please, continue with the frivolities.” He replies, settling back again.

You do just that, using a loufa to gentley exfoliate the skin that was cracking and shedding as his body recovered from the gas.

He makes a small groan now and then, moving every so slightly to give you better access to him as you scrub sweet soaps into his skin. You make him roll over, and he does so, propping arms on the side of the pool as you nearly climb his back to scrub and exfoliate.

He looks half asleep by the time you're done, and his shoulders are slouched in a much less tense way. The red around his eyes is now pink, and his pallid skin is starting to look less translucent and waxy as the heat and healing slowly brings a hint of blood to his face. And, apparently, other places as well, you chuckle to yourself.

You run a comb through his hair, detangling it with scneted oils. He watches with half lidded eyes as you sit in his lap, gently tugging out knots.

“Why….?” He mumbles, letting one of his hands splay across your small back.

You smile up at his tired, soft face. “Why what, my love?”

He sighs and rubs his thumb over your spine. “Why… this? Me…?” he murmurs.

Your face softens, and you set the comb aside so you can cradle his face between your hands.

“Because you're you.” You say gently.

He sighs and lets his cheek rest in your small palm, eyes fluttering closed. You stay like that a moment, stroking his cheek and cuddling in the warm waters.

When the water starts to chill, he sighs and pulls you up with him as he stands.

“You'll catch a cough if we stay.” He says quietly.

He places you carefully on the tile floor, and you're quick to scurry over and fetch towels- one to wrap around you, and a massive one for him. You hold it up to him with a grin, and he cuckles a rattling sound, coughing slightly from the exertion.

He kneels so you can toss the fluffy towel over his head and dry his hair, then the work it down his shoulders and back.

When you've given him a once over, he plucks off your own towel, making you squeek, and plops ot over your head. You giggle and towel off your own dripping hair, and when you pull it off, you see Mortarion holding your robe out for you.

“Last time you caught a cough,” he says, “you couldn't get up for days. Don't walk around cold and wet, you're too… frail.” He grumbled.

You smile and chuckle as you slip into the robe. “I get sick one time, while you're always sick, and I get lectured…” you huff softly.

He makes a small grunt. “It's different.”

You roll your eyes, but tug him to the bed, and he doesn't protest when you urge him to lay on his front, crawling up to the plush pillows and letting his face flop into them. You smile at the sight, the pale king, face first on a bed, hair fanned over the pillow, looking like a kitten that was fighting off falling asleep right there.

You scoot to the bedside table and take the oatmeal and honey lotion you have made just for him. His only response when you start working it over his broad shoulder muscles is a resigned, tired groan. You follow the contours of his back, working your hands over his fair skin, kneading away at his muscles, down his arms, over his fingers.

You make him roll to repeat the process over his chest, sruggling to push into the firm muscle. You take a break to shake out your tiring hands, and notice mortarions eyes are shut, and his breathing is slow and rythmic.

You smile, returning to massaging the sleeping primarch down his thighs and calves. When you are content that youve worked out at least some of his muscle knots, and lotioned all of him you could reach, you sit back and smile.

Clean, fair but slightly pink toned skin, silvery hair slightly disheveled over his face, the dark circles of his eyes fading already as he slept. The peacefulness of his sleeping face, silvery lashes fluttering as he dreams, lifts a worried weight off your shoulders.

You pull a few covers up over him, slipping in beside him. He automatically hooks an arm around you, holding you to his chest like a stuffed animal without stirring his sleep.

With a heavy, worn and contented sigh, you rest your head on his shoulder, taking in the smell of lavender and honey, and let your own eys fall shut in sleep.

[ldysmfrst]

American Mate (10) - A Date in the Right Direction

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

Status: Ongoing series

Chapter number: 10 of unknown

Word count for Chapter: 13,065

Work count for Story: 69,332

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

A little about the author: I am a mother of two beautiful children, one of whom has special needs, and the other loves everyone. I am currently not working because of a broken foot. I started a Patreon, and I would be grateful if you donated to help me make ends meet while I am out of work.

Warnings: (I am not good at this, but I will try. Let me know if I missed anything!!) NOT BETA READ!! This story will have a bit of angst, fluff, smut, f/m, m/m, and m/f/m. This chapter does have mentions of lost pregnancy, pack dynamics, comfort, Alpha/Luna vibes, and close proximity, but mainly, it is just Fluff.

BTS HYBRID ANIMAL TYPES: Seokjin - Roan Ferret, Yoongi - Black Jaguar, Hoseok - Marten, Namjoon - Alaskan Timber Wolf, Jimin - Red Panda, Taehyung - White Southwest African Tiger, Jungkook - Flemish Giant Rabbit

AMERICAN MATE MASTER LIST / LDYSMFRST MASTER LIST

The next morning, you completely departed from your usual routine. You had meticulously set your alarm for 7:30 a.m., anticipating that a quick shower would suffice before your medical appointment. But fate had other plans in store for you.

Shuffling, giggling, and the hushed “Quiet Kookie” woke you. Wait… is that water running? What time… what?

Stretching as you blink your eyes, you end up face to face with Jungkook, “Ah! Jungkook! What are you doing?”

“Good morning, my sweets,” the bunny smiled brightly with his big eyes. No care in the world that he just woke you with a scared startle.

Still hearing movement, you take a look around. Jungkook is kneeling on the bed but not inside your fort. Yoongi has popped his head out of your bathroom, and Seokjin stands at the entry door with a tray.

“Good morning, Jungkook, Seokjin, Yoongi. What time is it?’ rubbing your eyes and stretching again. Man, that was your deepest sleep in a long time.

Each Alpha wants to coo at your cute little stretches, which are maddeningly hidden by Taehyung’s blanket.

Seokjin is the first to snap out of watching you, “It’s almost 7 a.m., dear. I have a light breakfast, and Yoongi is drawing a bath for you. We want to make sure you're comfortable and ready for your day.”

Looking at Seokjin with a bit of a question furrowing your brow. Yoongi retreats into the bathroom now that he sees you are not upset at the intrusion.

 “Sweets, we heard your doctor’s appointment was this morning. I hate doctor’s appointments, and we thought it might be uncomfortable for you, too,” Jungkook says while he giggles at your expression.

“Thank you, Alphas. I was going to try a shower today, but a bath sounds good,” you say. A smile blooms on your face at the knowledge that the Alphas are trying to make your day good; it’s kind of cute.

“Princess, the bath is ready. I used the Cassia and Cherry scented bath bomb for you today. I set a towel to the side for you like last time. When you are done, please call for any of us to help dry your hair, okay?” asks Yoongi as he heads toward the door.

“Sure thing, Yoongi. Thank you again.” With another smile, Yoongi looks pointedly at the youngest packmate before leaving to get ready, presumably.

“Jin, is breakfast something that will get cold, or can I eat it after the bath?” you ask. Meanwhile, you note that Jungkook has scooted closer to you but still not close enough to touch you or your fort.

“It’s a simple breakfast: just some fruits and a bagel with cream cheese,” his eyes widened. He looked at the tray and then back at you. “You do like fruit, bagels, and cream cheese, right?”

Giggling, you kick out of the blankets and start scooting toward him. “Who doesn’t like those? They would be crazy not to like those!” You look at the array of foods on the tray, “Thank you, Jin. It looks good. Oh, you got mangos, my favorite!”

You happily take a large bite of the slice and close your eyes to enjoy the burst of flavor. Seokjin watches you eat intensely, and Jungkook approaches your side.

Opening your eyes, you look back at the bunny, asking, “Can you have mangos?” At his nodding, you offer him to take the rest of the mango in your hand. Leaning forward, Jungkook eats the mango from your hand. His lips barely touch your fingertips, temporarily short-circuiting you.

You immediately drop your hand and look back at Seokjin, only to notice he is watching Jungkook eat. You feel like you are getting too warm over witnessing something as mundane as eating fruit, but then you remember the look Seokjin gave you when he fed you that first dinner. Looking between the two, it feels more like it should be between mates only.

“Umm... I am gonna go take that bath now,” you say softly. Bolting into the walk-in closet, you look for something comfortable and yours to wear today. You pull out a pair of leggings, a sports bra, a crisscross tank, and a non-thousand-dollar sweater.

When you leave the closet, you notice that the tray has been left at the end of the bed, and the two remaining Alphas have left the room.

Softly, you bang your head on the door frame and mumble, “Good job, y/n. Way to keep professionalism.”

Your mind didn’t focus on any one thing as you dried off and dressed. That seems to be your mode right now. Your mind is like a laptop with 20 tabs open, and you cannot figure out where the music is coming from or what language it is even in. Walking out of the bathroom, you towel off your hair and head to the door to ask Yoongi for help, as instructed.

At the sound of your name being called from inside the bedroom, you jump and spin around to see Seokjin sitting down with a brush and cordless hair dryer.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you, but it sounded like you were almost done with your bath. I wanted to help you with your hair,” Seokjin says, holding up the tools as if to help prove that he was being honest. “That and I wanted to talk to you while you ate.”

“It’s okay, Jin. I had joked with Yoongi earlier about getting him and Taehyung a bell, but now I think it’s not them being sneaky,” you say, shaking your head and making your way to sit on the bed in front of the eldest Alphas.

You smile as you relish the feeling of someone else brushing your hair. Reaching out with your good hand, you pull the food tray closer and start munching. The mango, strawberries, and grapes are so fresh. The bagel and cream cheese also tasted like they were made this morning.

Behind you, Seokjin noticed how tangled your hair was still. This prompted him to go into the bathroom and get some leave-in conditioner. As Yoongi did after Namjoon’s failed proposal of your so-to-be new position, Seokjin gently brushes your hair.

When he goes to blow dry your hair, you turn around, stopping him from continuing, and ask, “Jin, umm… I wasn’t able to wash my hair as well as I would like to have. Can someone take me to a salon to wash it?”

“You could have asked one of us to help, dear,” Seokjin says, quickly adding. “Like to wash it over the sink or something.”

“I didn’t think of that. Not used to having people willing to help me,” you respond, looking down shyly, knowing that you had, in fact, thought of that but didn’t want to overstep.

Putting a finger under your chin, Seokjin tilts your head back to look at him. “I understand. It will take time to depend on the seven of us, but we are all here for you. I will see what I can do about getting your hair done. For now, what would you like me to do, dear?”

Thinking about a temporary style that wouldn’t look like trash, you say, “I would normally braid it, but that won’t work. Mabe a bun?”

“I can do a bun or see if Tae is still here. He has sisters, so I am sure he knows how to braid,” he offers.

“A bun is fine. We don’t have much time, and you said you wanted to talk to me,” you say, turning around and resuming your munching.

“I did… wanna talk to you.” Finishing up the bun, he puts the brushes in your bathroom and asks, “Namjoon talked to you about the outings that the pack wants to do with you, right?”

“Oh yes, it was Jimin who told me at my flat. I think it is nice of the pack to want to do that. I thought this would be more of a group activity kind of pack since you are all bonded. It shows you cannot make assumptions,” you giggle, happy but nervous about spending alone time with each of them.

“Right, I may love my mates together, but sometimes you just need some alone or one-on-one time,” smiles Seokjin with a shake of his head and rolled eyes.

Sitting on the other side of the food tray, he can see that you have avoided all the different melons on the plate. With a curious look, he asks, “You don’t like melons?”

“Not really. I mean, I will eat watermelon and cantaloupe if that is the only fruit, but I am not much of a honeydew fan,” you answer while scrunching your face in distaste at the idea of eating the permanently green, underripe-looking fruit.

Seeing his shoulders drop at your response, You take a grape, eat it, and smile, “It was a great breakfast for not knowing me that well, Alpha.”

Smiling softly, he notes that he will tell the rest of the pack to avoid melons at all costs and stock up on strawberries, grapes, and mangoes.

“So, the umm… outings. It will be interesting to fit them into your guys’ schedules soon. This first week is practically shot since it’s almost over, and the contract hasn’t even been finalized yet. Will they start next week if all goes well?” you ask, hoping to get back to his main topic.

“Actually, that is what I wanted to talk to you about,” Seokjin gently takes your hands in his. “Y/n, I know the contract isn’t finished, but it really doesn’t matter. It’s more like a formality than anything at this point.”

You think of how everything has not followed standard operational procedures. You can hear Derek yelling at you about legalities. You nod slowly in hesitant agreement, waiting for him to continue.

“With that being said, Miss Y/n,” Seokjin looks into your eyes, allowing his confidence and childlike anticipation to show. “Would you do me the honor of joining me tonight?”

You automatically feel your face burst into a blush at his question. For some reason, you thought they would just tell you who would take you and where. But no. Kim Seokjin, the talented singer of the world-famous K-pop group, is asking you to join him… tonight. The contract is not set; you haven’t passed anything yet, and he is still asking.

After letting the slight shock and embarrassment of being asked out by the eldest Bangtan packmate, knowing that the pack had already planned and agreed upon this, you smile, “Tonight sounds great, Jin.”

Why does it feel like you just agreed to go on a date with the eldest member of the Bangtan pack?

The doctor took you into your room and performed the physical exam, wanting to get that out of the way as quickly as possible. Given its vulnerability, something about it makes the Alphas feel uneasy. Now, you are all sitting in the dining room, an alpha on each side, with the focus laser-focused on Dr. Blackwell, who seems not to be affected at all.

“Miss Y/n, these questions are personal in nature, and you can deny the presence of the Alphas at your side. They would be required to leave the packhouse and be out of earshot so you can answer comfortably. Do you want them to stay or leave?” the Doctor asks.

Feeling the hybrids at your side shift at the notion of having to leave you, you answer, “They can stay, Dr. Blackwell. Everything you ask will be in a report and added to the contract for them all to see anyway.”

“Very well,” she finally glances at the two men. “If either of you thinks you may hear things you do not want to hear, please take your leave now.”

“We are good,” Yoongi replies, and Jungkook nods in agreement.

“All right. Well, Miss Y/n, can you tell me of your family history, any health conditions, addictions, or genetic background?” the doctor asks.

“Sure. My brother is healthy like a horse and is currently backpacking around the Blue Ridge Mountain range. My mother is relatively healthy but does drink heavily in social situations. My grandparents were healthy too and drank socially also.”

“Are those your mother’s parents?” the doctor asks for clarification.

“Oh yes, this is all my mom’s side,” you reply. I don’t know anything about my father’s side. He was only in my life until I was about 10 or 11. He and my mother divorced, and Mom took away all contact with him and that side of the family.”

“You don’t know your dad?” Jungkook asks with a frown. Bunny hybrids live in large family colonies, so it doesn’t make sense to him that you don’t have contact with your dad, much less what sounds like little contact with your brother.

“No, I don’t. I tried to find him when I turned 18, but my mother threatened to disown me and stuff, so … yeah. I had tried for almost a year before she found out. He would have contacted me by now if he wanted to.” Placing your hand on Jungkook’s, you smile softly at him, “It’s been years, Thumper. I am okay.”

“What about your personal history, Miss Y/n?” the doctor says, getting everyone back on track.

“Well, besides my being considered obese by medical standards,” you hear a soft growl from the jaguar but continue, “I have Hashimoto’s Thyroiditis. The main symptoms I experience are tiredness, inability to lose weight, some food sensitivities, and pretty much cold 24/7.”

“Can you list your food sensitivities, please?” The doctor pulls out a separate paper to take notes, “This is imperative for the contract, as all dietary restrictions must be factored in, Miss Y/n.”

“Umm... yeah. I can typically find my way around it, so there are no restrictions to worry about,” you hurriedly say, trying to find a way to avoid the question.

“Princess, Hyung is going to want to know the specifics. His love language is food; remember his promise to keep you well-fed. This will help ensure he doesn’t hurt you in the process,” encourages Yoongi.

“Yeah, sweets. Even Jin-hyung is allergic to garlic, Tae Tae cannot eat spicy foods, and Joonie and Jiminnie-hyung don’t eat seafood. I don’t think it's an allergy for them, but it might as well be,” Jungkook adds, trying to help you feel comfortable.

“Okay,” you nod at both and turn to the doctor. “I am allergic to chocolate. Citrus and spices give me blisters in my mouth. Sometimes, bananas and avocados make my mouth itchy because of my latex allergy, but I love them. I don’t have a gallbladder, so I avoid red meat for the most part.”

You glance at the jaguar hybrid beside you, expecting a negative response. However, you are met with a gummy smile and a tail wrapping around your thigh, “Thank you for sharing, Princess. You and Joonie can share all the surf and turf meals.”

This causes everyone to laugh, effectively making the mood lighter than before.

You continue to answer a series of questions, and then you come to the questions that you hate: the social history, a.k.a. ‘how lame your sex life is’ questions.

“Miss Y/n, since the Bangtan Pack has requested that the rut clause not be included, we have to ask you about things that will affect that. It's best to rapid-fire these to avoid any awkwardness,” the doctor suggests while giving the two Alphas stern looks.

“Sure, rapid-fire works, Dr. Blackwell.”

“Gender at birth?”

“Female.”

“Identify as?”

“The same.”

“Orientation?”

“Heterosexual and sapiosexual.” Piquing the interest of the Alphas at your side, but the doctor presses on.

“Ever had intercourse?’

“Yes.”

“Pregnancies?”

“Yes, one that failed. I had a miscarriage.” Jungkook’s hand squeezes yours as Yoongi’s tail softly brushes your forearm, which is still securely around your thigh.

“Last sexual encounter?

“Th… three years ago. I.. I stopped when I had the miscarriage.”

“Birth Control?”

“IUD implanted shortly after the miscarriage.”

“Well, I think that is all. Your IUD will still be usable for another 2 years, and the bloodwork will tell us if there is anything else to worry about.”

“Thank you, Dr. Blackwell. I will walk you out and… I think I will walk around the property to get some fresh air.”

Both you and the doctor go outside, chatting about random things.

When she goes to get into the car, she stops you from walking off, “Miss Y/n, I didn’t ask with the pack being there, but do you want any information on a therapist?”

“Oh no, Thank you, Dr. Blackwell. I can give you Ryan’s number if you need it for the report. He is the Licensed Social Worker that I was seeing until about a year ago.”

“Yes, unfortunately, without his report, I would need to do a psych assessment for the contract.” With that, you gave her all the information for Ryan before she got in her car and left.

You also decided to call him on your walk and to make sure to get the proper forms to release the sensitive information. Being a good therapist, he questions how you are doing, if you are having any complications with all the questions, and the change in your situation.

You don’t hold back and let your former therapist know everything. At the end of it all, you realize you have no issues with what has happened. You are playing your future with caution, and today’s visit wasn’t as terrifying or problematic as you thought it might be.

Inside the packhouse, however, Yoongi and Jungkook were very much dealing with how worrisome the doctor’s visit had become for them about you.

Once you and the doctor left, they went to Yoongi’s den and chatted with Namjoon and Seokjin over the phone. Yoongi went over everything that had happened during the doctor’s visit.

Seokjin was the calmest of the four. He was happy to learn about the dietary restrictions now and not during your date with him tonight. Being the eldest, he figured you had had an entire life before them. Your reactions to their advantages, the level of panic in certain situations, and your negative self-image have already told him more than enough.

Namjoon remained primarily silent throughout the conversation. With every new bit of information, he resolves to talk with your family pack without you being solidified. Not to mention, his Alpha now wants to ensure that your experiences with the pack are top-notch. He smiles, knowing Jin’s plans for tonight will hopefully start things off on the right track.

Ending the call, Yoongi and Jungkook head back downstairs and outside. They can hear you walking around the yard, but you are talking to someone about Dr. Blackwell and records. Considering that you made this call without them, they sit on the back patio. This allows them to watch over you, calming their Alphas by providing protection while respecting your privacy.

Bangtan Pack Group Chat

Prime (Namjoon): Hey guys, I want to ask you all something. Hob-ah already knows about this because we talked about it last night. Prime: After Y/n’s appointment today, which revealed a few new things, I think this idea is really our best bet. Mochi (Jimin): What is it, Hyung? V (Taehyung): What happened at her appointment? Is she okay? WWH (Seokjin): She is fine, but there were some concerns, which we will discuss later. Namjoon, what is your idea? Prime: I want to go and talk to the Y/l/n Pack. Bun (Jungkook): You did that already, though, with Jimin and Yoongi-hyung.  You wanna go again? Seokie (Hoseok): Let him talk Kookie! Bun: Sorry. Prime: It’s OK, Kookie. Thank you, Hobi-hyung. I want to go but I want to go without Y/n. Yoons (Yoongi): You better have a good reason to see a pack without their Luna, Namjoon. Prime: I want to tell them Y/n is our mate. Bun: So we are okay with lying to her but not to her pack? Seokie: No, Bunny. We are not lying to her. We are waiting till the right time to tell her. Bun: Same difference. Prime: Talking with her pack and letting them know might get them to tell us more about her and how to tell without her running from us. WWH: I agree with Yoongi. This is playing with fire. But it may be our best chance. They could help open her mind to the idea. Prime: Does anyone want to go with me? Bun: Nope. Not even. She will be the next person I tell about the mate bond. Yoons: I am with Jungkook on this one. I will stay out of this. V: I will go with you, Hyung. I would like to meet her family pack to start with. Seokie: I will go, too. WWH: When is this happening? Prime: I don’t know yet. I was hoping for tonight. Prime: but maybe this weekend will be better? Mochi: Sorry, but Manager Sejin asked what was happening. Mochi: He thinks this is a good idea. The weekend would work best. Mochi: also, Seokjin and Namjoon should go, but no more than 4 Mochi: So, I am out. I saw them, and I still have other stuff. WWH: If you plan it this weekend, I will go. Tonight, I am taking Y/n out on a date. Prime: Okay, Jin and Hobi-hyung plus TaeTae and I. Got it.

“Hello, this is Sejin,” he answers on the second ring.

“Manager Sejin, it’s Y/n,” you quickly identify yourself, but you're not sure if he has your number saved. “How are you today?”

“Oh, Miss Y/n! Hi. I am doing well. Thank you for asking. Yourself?” he says, seemingly surprised by your call.

“I am doing, umm… well, I’m ok,” you hesitate to ask why the two Alphas are avoiding you.

“Yeah, should I pretend to believe you?” asks the BTS manager. Of course, he isn’t going to notice, but at least he is giving you an out.

“Can we put a pin in it for now? I want to go over a few things with you first,” you ask. While the missing or avoidant Alphas are really bothering you, you aren’t their mother, and other things are more pressing at the moment.

“Sure thing. What did you want to discuss? Actually, how did you get my number?” His voice was light. He accepted the random call and was still curious about why and how.

“Your number is the only number listed on the preliminary contract, Manager Sejin,” you giggle slightly.

“Oh yeah, sorry, most Playmates don’t get a preliminary contract. Anyway, is there something I can help you with?” he asks, probably busy and wanting to get to the point of the call.

“Yes, but first– Dr. Blackwell has come and gone. She did the full physical exam, blood sample, and full history. I also gave Dr. Blackwell my prior therapist's phone number. After she left, I contacted him, and he said he would email me the ROI so I could sign electronically.”

“Wonderful news. You can tell this isn’t your first rodeo, even if you haven't been a Playmate before,” he says with an air of appreciation for your knowledge.  “Aside from the mental health report, everything else should be done by tomorrow afternoon.”

“Ryan is already working on a mental health summary report and will have it ready by tonight. He is really quick with that. He is a PMS contracted therapist, Manager Sejin,” you explain.

“That is even more perfect. Nothing seems concerning on our end, or the doctor would have already called me,” says the manager, pleased at how smooth things are going.

“Well, one would think that nothing is concerning,” you say, clearing your throat.

Glancing at your door and deciding you are unsure where the Alphas are now in the house, you move to the bathroom, close the door, and turn on the sink.

“Miss Y/n are... Are you in the kitchen?” he asks.

“No, I am hiding in the bathroom. I don’t know where Yoongi and Jungkook are, but they have been… umm, well… they have been observing me from afar,” you explain, bringing you to the concern and reason for the call.

“Observing from afar? Like, what do you mean?” he requests for clarification.

“After the doctor left, I took a walk outside because some of the information at the end was intense but not unpleasant… for me.” You nibble on your bottom lip, “But maybe they aren’t okay with it.”

“Okay. I agree that their behavior indicates that something is off,” he starts. After a beat continues, “Have you tried going to them? Maybe they are giving you some space.”

“No, I got nervous. I guess I got used to them always coming to me,” you contemplate. “Oh! Can you possibly have someone take me to the salon?”

“Umm, I take it you have no idea what you are doing for your date tonight?” he says with a hint of amusement.

Your breath catches in your throat when he calls tonight a date. You turn off the sink and walk back to the bedroom.

Is that what this is?

Is that what he called it?

Does the pack know?

“Well, yes, to all that,” answers the hamster hybrid. “Seokjin said you agreed to go out with him tonight. Is he supposed to call it something else?”

“Shit! I said that all out loud?” you whined.

Manager Sejin chuckles, “Miss Y/n. It is okay. All of them know about your date with Seokjin tonight. I think that may explain the distance.”

“They do? It does?” You sit on the edge of your bed. The revelation that everyone is calling this a date has you reeling.

“They do and don’t tell them I told you, but everyone is nervous about it. Seokjin may not be the Prime Alpha, but… he is the oldest mate. There is significant pressure for him to make sure tonight goes well,” he explained.

“Oh, he could do a movie night in, and I would be happy,” you quickly reply, not wanting them to think that you expected something grand just because they were rich K-pop idols.

“Well, this is Kim Seokjin,” he comments, as if that should be enough of an answer before he adds, “I doubt you'll be having a movie night at the Pack House. I suspect he has more things planned for you than you realize.”

“Oh boy, I need to get my hair done then, ah… Where are we going? Do I need to go shopping? Do I have the right thing to wear?” you ask, the paranoia of looking like a slob next to the eldest packmate starting to build.

“Miss Y/n now is not the time to spiral,” reassures the manager. “He will let you know what is happening soon. Just be ready. Since it’s already lunchtime, I suggest snacking on something.”

“Wait, you still haven’t explained why tonight Jin has to do with Thumper and Yoongi staying away,” you circle back to the original topic.

“I'm going to try not to laugh at you calling Jungkook Thumper,” he says, clearing his throat and trying to mask his laughter. “I am sure you have heard that Alphas are territorial, right?”

“Riiiiight, but Namjoon said they weren’t territorial like that, and he didn’t think they would be with these… ah these dates,” you say, feeling a flutter.

“They won’t. What Yoongi and Jungkook are doing right now is why they won’t,” he explains.

“Oh, but we sat beside each other when I spoke to the doctor,” you bring up because apparently avoiding you earlier wasn’t an issue, but it is now, which is weird.

“Well, if you want to have a super happy Alpha tonight, you might want to change clothes and wash your hands but know you don’t have to. He isn’t the possessive one in the group,” informs the manager.

You were too nervous to eat now, so you looked around for the other two Alphas, which you knew had to be nearby.

Only to realize that you, a human, were trying to hunt down two adult male Alpha hybrids. One of them could turn into a bunny that could fit who knows where and has the prey instinct to hide. The other was an apex-like predator hybrid, and because of his sneakiness, you have already threatened to get a bell for him. Giving up, you returned to your room and wasted time scrolling through Tumblr and Instagram.

It has just hit 1 p.m. when you get a knock on your door. When you answer, you are met with a woman in a pantsuit who doesn’t say anything and hands you a phone. Looking at the screen, you see that there is an active call.

“Umm… Hello? This is Y/n,” you speak into the phone.

“Hello, my dearest,” replies the voice on the other end of the line.

“Jin! You had to send a bodyguard to call me?” you questioned.

“How else would I contact you? I haven’t been allowed to get your phone number. Her name is Jen, and she will be your driver today,” he says calmly.

“Ah yeah, I should get that to everyone, but why do I need a driver?” Smiling at the now-named woman, you cover the mic on the phone, “Hello Jen, I am Y/n.”

“Yes, you do,” he agrees. “Are you ready for tonight?”

“No, not even close,” you answer honestly. “I don’t know where we are going, so I don’t know what to wear. My hair is still in the bun. Yoongi and Thumper have been nowhere to be found in the last hour or more.”

You hear a low chuckle from the phone line and look at the phone with irritated confusion: “You’re laughing?”

“From now on, the only Alpha you need to worry your pretty little head with is… Me.” His voice has taken a lower tone than other times he has spoken to you, and there is something so stimulating about it. “Now, my dearest, please go with Jen. She will take you to Mare Salon in West Hollywood, and you will join me for an early dinner. Ready?”

“Yes, Alpha,” you respond quickly, instinctually not wanting to upset the Alpha, who controls the rest of your day. While you are not a pushover, you want to be open to tonight and figure you might as well go with the flow.

“Good. Please hand the phone back to Jen and get ready to leave,” orders the eldest Alpha.

Following his instructions, you hand the phone over. Then grab your purse, phone, and jacket. When you return to the door, Jen is no longer on the phone. “Ready when you are.”

(NOTE: If you would like to see what is being described, please go to https://pin.it/xP7XzD1FH)

She leads you to a sleek, all-black Town Car and opens the back door for you. Taking your seat, you find an envelope with your name next to you. Inside is a handwritten letter which reads:

My dearest Y/n, I want you to know that I am in awe of your grace throughout this past week. Even in the ups and downs, you held your ground, spoke your mind, and brought a life to the pack that none of us knew was missing. Tonight, let us celebrate our paths crossing and our lives intertwining. Our first stop of the night is Mare Salon, and this is my first chance to show you that I can treat you as you should be. They will only show you options that can be completed in time to make our dinner reservation. Feel free to pick any of the packages offered. Enjoy yourself right now. See you soon, Kim Seokjin

You read the letter multiple times. He calls you his dearest as if you are something important to him, and he is treating you to a top-tier salon experience.

Seokjin may be known as Worldwide Handsome, but he is a Worldwide Charmer.

First, you had a personal attendant, probably because you were their only customer for the rest of the day.

Secondly, they offered you a smoothie of your choice, and you got a Peanut Butter Bananrama, which was so good.

Finally, you had so many spa packages to choose from. Ultimately, you picked a Tea Tree treatment and a hydration facial.

About halfway through your experience, you received a delivery with a large black box, a medium purple box, and a black bag. Automatically, a smile blooms on your face, and around you, the sounds of the staff cooing at the gesture have your face tinting pink. Attached to the large box is another envelope with your name on it. The letter inside reads:

Are you relaxing, my dearest? Let me know if they treat you like the Luna you are. Do not hesitate to ask Jen or the salon staff for anything. Once you have completed your pampering, Jen will drive you to meet me at the restaurant. I know you were concerned about what to wear tonight. I hope you do not mind, but I took care of that. Just as I promised, I will take care of you. Please let the one who delivered these to you know if any alterations are needed, and they will make the adjustments per your request. It shouldn’t be much longer, my dearest. See you soon, Seokjin

You really shouldn’t feel an emotional response from a mated man, but his words are so sweet that anyone would swoon. Over your shoulder, you hear the staff mention something about being committed to a fan service.

It’s like ice buckets get thrown over you—fan service. You have seen videos of Idols treating their fans to a day of fun with them. Just recently, you saw NCT 127 make dinner for a super fan.

You were becoming a playmate. This wasn’t much different. They would soon be paying you to be their friend, their companion. It’s nothing more. You continued the services you had requested.  Even after you reread the letter, the goods that were delivered remain untouched. You had been excited, but now the thrill of the letters and the day's excitement seemed dull and almost forced.

“Miss Y/n, you have a phone call,” your driver, Jen, said while handing you the same phone from before. Taking the phone, you smiled and nodded at Jen, then waited for her to move away.

Putting the phone to your ear, you answer, “Thank you for calling… wait, no. Sorry, Hello?”

You heard a soft sigh, “You didn’t open the gifts.”

Hearing the statement, you didn’t feel the need to say anything, but there was a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach.

“Dearest, why haven’t you opened them? Did I overstep a boundary?” he asked, concern dripping on every word.

You didn’t know what was worse: the sinking feeling that you had disappointed him by not opening his gifts or the feeling that you were making him feel guilty.

“Seokjin,” pausing to take a breath, you were interrupted.

“Seokjin? I am Seokjin again. What did… Y/N, please tell me where I went wrong?” he asked, his voice weak but somehow controlled.

“You haven’t done anything wrong, nor have you overstepped any boundaries,” you respond. Muttering to yourself, “Your service is top-notch.”

A confused sound is heard before he asks, “My what?”

“Shit. I didn’t mean to say that out loud. I am sorry, Jin,” you whine softly.

“Explain,” he states, his voice a new, more demanding tone you haven’t heard before.

“Fan service. The staff here are all giggly about how well you are treating me,” you answer. “Then, one mentioned how this was a committed fan service.”

Another sigh comes over the phone, “My dear, my dearest Y/n. This is not fan service. I have not, nor will I ever treat a fan in this way.  All of this is for you.”

“You don’t have to do all this for me. I am just me,” you counter.

“Yes, you are just you. My promise to you and only you is to ensure you eat well, so I am taking you to dinner,” he begins.

“Jin…” you breathed out.

“No, let me continue,” he cuts you off before continuing, “I had promised to keep you happy and healthy, and spoiling you with this spa hair trip and the gifts was my attempt to follow through on that promise.”

“All this is so much. It’s more than I ever have been given,” you try to keep going.

“I want to impress you, Y/n. Not as Worldwide Handsome or Kim Seokjin of BTS but as Jin, the eldest Prey Alpha of the Bangtan pack.” With a hopeful tone, he asks, “Can you allow me to do that for us?”

Now, Jen was pulling the car up to a very green door with a lovely painted woman’s face and the word Amore in green, fluorescent lights.

The first room has vine-covered brick walls and glass ceilings, giving the feeling of being outside. The booths are beautifully set with candles, and a lovely chandelier hangs in the center of the room. Continuing inside, you are greeted by large wooden panels along the main wall with built-in wine racks, highly decorative green and white walls, and a classic bar in the corner to your left.

There stands the first person you have seen since you arrived. She smiles softly at you and tilts her head, indicating that you should turn in the other direction.

Following her subtle hint, you turn only to be greeted with a sight that steals your breath.

Kim Seokjin

He is in all black.

Your eyes drop as you take in Seokjin’s appearance.

Classy wingtip dress shoes.

Dress slacks that are loose but accentuate the length of his legs.

The dress shirt with the top two buttons is undone, allowing you to glance at his collarbones.

Finally, you catch his eyes, which seem darker than usual. However, he doesn’t hold your gaze. Instead, his eyes travel along your body.

It’s like he was waiting for you to watch him as he assesses his gifts on you.

He has also dressed you in all black.

Your dress is made of tulle, and various parts have a dark silver metallic lining.

Your neck was a halter with a deep V-neck, which stopped with a cinched high waist and bellowed out into an asymmetrical high-low skirt. You found this in the large black box.

Out of the purple box, you discovered shoes that allowed you to show off your newly pedicured feet, colored with a deep blue polish. They were silver chain-buckled sandals with box heels that matched the lining of your dress.

Finally, the small bag contained a lovely pair of silver and sapphire earrings and a matching bracelet. The silver parts looked like a flower made of hearts, with gems lying between them.

As his eyes traveled back up your body, he found his voice, “You look stunning.”

“Thank you, Jin,” you say with a shy smile. “You are quite handsome as well.”

He holds his hand out to you, beckoning you forward and sliding your hand in, which feels natural. His warmth even pulls you in, relaxing the tension you didn’t realize you were holding.

“Thank you for my gifts, Alpha,” you say, genuinely loving each piece.

“I am sorry about your experience at the salon,” he apologizes. “Please don’t ever feel like we are just going through the motions. Everything that I do and that the pack does is for you.”

Nodding, you say, “Jen said something about the staff being jealous Army and that I needed to get used to them if I stuck around.”

“Ah, yes,” he says while guiding you into a small half-circle booth. His Alpha growled in his head, still wanting to fire the one who made you doubt the night's intentions.

When you sat down, you thought he would go to sit on the other side, but instead, he sat down on the same side, scooting you over to make enough room and draping his arm across the back of the couch.

“In Korea, the crazy ones are called sasaeng. Anyone with fame has to deal with them,” he comments with his eyes focused on you. “Sadly, you will also have to deal with them. You may end up getting your own, but we do our best to protect you from them.”

“I have heard of them. Probably more often than you think. They would sometimes show up to the office either trying to apply to be a Playmate or trying to catch an Idol coming through the halls.” Looking around the restaurant, “Jin, are we the only ones here?”

“Yes, I booked the whole restaurant. I wanted to make sure we had time to talk without getting bothered.” He gestures to the waitress that you saw when you came in.

“Jin, this is amazing. Have you ever been here?” you ask, still admiring the abeyance.

“Nope. It had excellent reviews online, and the chef was willing to accommodate our diets without complaint,” he said with a playfully bright smile.

He looks at the waitress and says, “Please let the chef know we are ready for the first course. I will stick with water for now, but my lady can have whatever she wants.”

“Miss, would you like to see the drink selection?” she asks, looking at me.

“Water. Ice water would be perfect, please, and thank you,” I reply.

“Make sure the water does not have a garnish. She is allergic to citrus,” he tells the waitress. Your jaw drops at the fact that he already knows this information.

“Oh, and please make sure the chef has read the restrictions. I do not want my lady to get sick while eating here,” his voice thick with authority said. From your angle, you could not fully see his face, but if the waitress's reaction was any indication, it was not the happy face from a moment ago.

Soon, his attention was back on you, and the waitress was gone. He must have caught your earlier reaction because he gave you a sly smile, “Yoon and Kook let me know of the food concerns right after Dr. Blackwell left, in case you were wondering.”

“Well, that makes sense. At least they talked to someone after the appointment,” you say bitterly.

“Did they do something wrong or make you uncomfortable with your appointment?” Jin asked, his face crunching with concern.

“Oh no! They were great and supportive during the visit. They actually helped me feel better about opening up,” you quickly said. Looking down, you focus on the bracelet he gifted you as Seokjin waits patiently for you to continue. “I spoke with Manager Sejin about their behavior. He said I shouldn’t worry.”

“Y/n,” he says. “What did the boys do to make you call someone outside the pack for advice?”

Looking back at Jin, the seriousness of his face takes you back a bit, and you quickly answer, “I don’t want to sound like a child, but” you sigh softly. “They ignored me after the appointment. I don’t think they were comfortable with what they learned about me.”

You go to scoot back, wanting a bit of room between you and Jin before saying, “Manager Sejin said that it was more of a courtesy thing for you.”

That information was like a light bulb turned on over his head. The stern face melted away to a warm smile, “Do you know about Alpha bonding time and possession?”

“The only thing I know is what Derek, my Beta, said, but that included imprinting and territory domains,” you answer.  Your words pulled a soft chuckle from Jin.

The waitress took that moment to bring your drinks and a lovely plate called a Caledonia Blue Prawn Carpaccio. It looks incredible, with thinly sliced prawns, small piles of what looks like foam, and a yellow gastrique.

“Here, my dear.” While you had taken a sip of water, Jin had gathered some of the carpaccio and was now offering it to you. “I want to give you the first bite as a show of following through with my promise to keep you well-fed.”

Blushing slightly, you lean forward and say, “Thank you, Alpha.” The bite offered is unlike anything you have eaten before. The play of textures and flavors sings. Humming in delight, you watch as Jin tastes it as well. His instant smile shows he agrees with your reaction.

“Now, back to our jaguar and bunny. I think your Beta is pretty spot on. However, it’s called territorial dominance and not domain. You’re not a website,” Jin says as he continues to feed you bites of food while he talks.

“Oh. I knew it was something like that, but Namjoon said there had never been any issues. So, what gives?” you ask, sipping your water.

“Oh gosh, how do I explain this to a non-hybrid?” He goes quiet as he contemplates.

Internally, what he is trying to tell you would require you to know you are his mate. Whenever one bonded Alpha claims a day or time with their mate, the rest of the pack will avoid that mate to ensure several things:

1- The called mate(s) is aware that bonding time is needed 2- The calling mate(s) prepares for the bonding time for themselves as well as the called mate(s) 3- The remaining mate(s) keep their distance from all mates involved for temporary scent fading 4- The one or more of the remaining mates are put in charge of guarding the involved mate(s) until it is time for the bonding

It is an older version of bonding time rituals. Having all Alphas in the Bangtan Pack, this version allows the called mate to fall into a following-like state of mind while the calling mate falls into a leading-like mindset.

Sipping your water and watching Jin figure out how to tell you whatever it is, you take a note to ask Derek or Evie where you can find some reputable online courses to learn more about the Alpha sub-gender.

At the lull in conversation, the waitress brings out a tray with new dishes. The first is a Perigord Truffle Chawanmushi, Uni, and Trout Roe dish. After looking at it closely, you determine it is something like a flan made with fish and something else on a plate. Next to it is this soup puree topped with sea urchin and fish eggs.

The second is known as a Comte Cloud, and that is when you try not to laugh because it is just a poached egg with shavings of something on toast: those 1% folks and their fancy-schmancy names for things.

You are 90% sure the soupy thing is raw and smells strongly of fish. The speckled flan looks interesting— until the server dumps it into the soup.

So, the only safe thing is the poached egg on toast. You quickly pull that dish closer to you and hope it shows you want that and not the other concoction.

“I guess the easiest way to say this is…” Jin watches you pull the plate to you with a raised eyebrow.

“I love eggs. May I eat this one, Alpha?” you say sweetly, attempting to get your way and not being forced to eat something raw.

“Of course, but here, try this too,” he agrees while he gathers a fair sample of the raw fishy flan dish. Bringing it up to your mouth to have you try it, you keep your mouth shut.

Looking at him with pleading eyes, you ask, “Can I skip the Chawanmush… chawamjush. That,” you say, pointing to the spoon. “Can I please skip that?”

Laughing. That was his answer to you. He laughed to the point where he had to put the spoon down or risk dropping it.

“Alpha, it looks raw and smells fishy. We just ate that prawn dish; it was nearly raw, and I am not much of a raw or smelly fish eater.” You continue to pout at the thought of the Alpha making you eat it.

“Fine, you don’t have to eat the Chawanmushi. I quite enjoy things in the natural raw state, even if it’s a bit fishy.” He watches you intently while saying those words, then takes a bite.

Why does it sound like he isn’t… wait nope. You are not gonna go there. You are going to eat your poached egg. Cutting into it, the yolk runs out just as it should, and you scoop it up and take a bite. Yum.

“Oh, good. It’s dripping nicely. It must be creamy and rich, too,” comments the Alpha, slightly causing you to choke on your bite. Jin casually pats your back and reminds you of the water to help you swallow it.

You have got to get your mind out of the gutter.

You tell the doctor today that you have been on a three-year re-virginity plan, and now that you are at a high-end dinner with Worldwide Handsome, everything is becoming an innuendo.

Get a grip!

“As with any hybrid, scents are essential to us. It allows us to identify many things,” states as a matter of fact. “Pack bonds, mating seasons, emotions, and such. When one of the individuals joining in the bonding time carries the scent of another pack member, no matter the sub-gender, it can block or alter the purity of the individual’s scent.”

Jin further explains, “Territorial dominance is not a bad thing. Since you will be with Bangtan now, we all want to bond with you properly. As an all-Alpha male pack, our individual Alphas can become quite controlling.”

“Wait,” you remember something from the scenting session. “The night you guys brought me the extra bedding, Jungkook wanted to scent before bed, right?”

Jin nods while continuing to eat the fishy soup.

“Yoongi said that Jungkook wanted to go last because he was my ‘Alpha right now.’ Was your youngest mate controlling you and Yoongi?” you ask, mind replaying the comment and Yoongi’s nonplus yet endearing attitude.

Jin's soft smile confirms it. He says, “In a way, yes. That wasn’t due to bonding; that was situational.”

You had thought you had figured it out until his last comment. To clarify, you ask, “What do you mean? Do you guys switch who is in charge? Is there an Alpha of the Day or something?"

“No, no… The Alpha who found you in need of something was Jungkook, and therefore, he became the Alpha in charge of your bedding requirements. Yoongi and I supported him with that,” Seokjin says with a hint of amusement.

“Okay.” You pause to think, then say, “Okay, and I know that Yoongi is responsible for my wrist, I assume, for similar reasons, but how long will Jungkook be in charge of my bed?”

Seokjin, who has been fighting his laughter, finally loses the battle, and you look at him with a baffled expression. 

“That is a question for you to ask Alpha Kook. As the youngest Alpha in the pack, Alpha Kook has never had someone to take care of,” muses the still chuckling Alpha.

“What about the other playmates? Most of them were his age or younger. Didn’t he take care of them like a proper Alpha?” you ask, a bit perturbed by being laughed at.

“Be careful with that,” warns Jin, with a serious look on his face falling into place. “Not every playmate is the same. You are, by far, not the same. You are someone special to have gotten not only Alpha Kook and Alpha Yoon but also Alpha Tae to greet you.”

“What’s so special about that?” you ask, entirely lost at how meeting their Alphas is a big deal because it had been so easy.

“Since we are a mate-bonded pack, our Alphas tend to stay away from others unless there is a threat.” At your widened eyes, he quickly continues, “You have never been a threat to us. So, it is impressive that you met so many of our Alphas. Topping it off with the fact that some of us don’t typically scent except for calming nerves, getting one of us out of Alpha Space, or during times of pleasure.”

Before you can say anything more about the topic, here comes the waitress again. Duuuddee… How many courses are there in fancy restaurants?

In front of Seokjin, she places a Colorado Lamb Saddle with a Cacao-Miso sauce, white truffle, and roasted Brussels sprouts on a bed of chimichurri. The colors on his plate are vibrant. The lamb doesn't look dry, and the chimichurri is such a bright green, but the dark brown sauce stops you from wanting to ask for a taste.

“Did you say Cacao-Miso sauce? Did you not verify the restrictions?” Seokjin’s voice becomes dry and monotone.

“We did get it, and the chef and the rest of the staff reviewed the list several times,” says the waitress before glancing at the tray and reading over what is written on paper.

“Ah, here. This Cacao-Miso sauce is made with carob. I suppose I could have called it a Carob-Miso sauce instead,” says the waitress, looking down to avoid Seokjin's piercing look.

“That is so considerate of the Chef to make that change, Miss. Since the dish is for him, he could have still made it with its original ingredients,” you comment, trying to ease the tension that now fills the space. “Please give the Chef and the staff our gratitude for their consideration and follow through,” you smile brightly.

Glancing over at you, a softness blooms on his face. “If they did that, then I wouldn’t be able to share it with you, dearest.”

The endearment causes you to blush. The fondness in his eyes only increases it, but the silent coo from the waitress causes you to look away and fiddle with the napkin in your lap.

The waitress then serves a Lavender Duck Breast with Carrot Puree and Endives finished tableside with a Romesco sauce. The smell is divine, and you can’t wait to try it. Duck wasn’t something you had ever had, but it was poultry, right? You were used to eating a lot of chicken, and, of course, you had turkey for most big holidays. Duck is just another one of the bigger birds that you could eat.

You wonder what Yoongi or Taehyung would think of your all-poultry-tastes similar thought process. You giggled at the thought. The sound fills the room like chimes, drawing the waitress's and Seokjin's attention.

In the silence of the room, you looked up from poking at the duck with your fork, pausing to wonder why Seokjin was looking at you with a crooked smile, “What?’

“Does your food normally quack you up?” Seokjin asked with an exaggerated serious face, to which you could only giggle more.

Looking at the waitress, he asks, “Does she get any quackers with her Duck?” This caused both of you to start laughing.

“Should she be worried about quacking her teeth, or is it cooked to perfection?” he continued, but he couldn’t hold back this time and started laughing with the two of you.

After clearing the table and refilling your drinks, the waitress leaves you two alone again. You cut the delicious food she brought out, and the taste shocks you.

Duck, in fact, is not like chicken because it is much richer and heartier. It is almost like eating a steak while still having that poultry gamey flavor.

Seokjin waits patiently, watching you take your first bite. Your moan of delight at the taste feeds right into this fixation. Quickly looking away, he cuts into his lamb and offers it to you.

Taking a sip of water to clean your pallet, you smile, “You trust them to make it without the cocoa, Alpha?”

Watching as a frown takes over his face, bringing the lamb up to smell. You wait for his reaction. You have heard that a hybrid’s sense of smell is higher when smelling other people or hybrids, but you never thought it would be related to food.

“Honestly, it smells more like a lamb and has a musk scent. I am sorry for not checking first. I just wanted you to try it. I think you are safe, but if you would rather be cautious, you don’t have to try it,” he almost whines.

“I don’t have my Epi-pen on me.” With a sad tilt of your head, you say, “With past experiences, I would rather not risk anything. But I would love to try your Brussels sprouts, Alpha?”

“Ah yes, sorry again,” apologizes the Alpha. He eats the bit and seems to enjoy it, but less than if you had been the one to eat it. Scooping up your requested bite, he offers it to you.

“Thank you for providing for me, Alpha,” you say before eating the bite. You watch as he opens his mouth along with yours. His eyes never actually look at the food offered.

It is a burst of flavor with the char on the sprout and the hint of the chimichurri it was served on. You hum in delight, wanting nothing more but to have another bite.

Looking down at your plate, you also desire to share with him. He has provided for you as an Alpha should, but you also want to care for him.

You know it’s part of your “job” that has yet to start, but it also seems more than that. Deciding to follow your intuition, you cut a piece of your duck coated in the sauce and offered it to him. “Alpha?”

“Hmm?” His eyes were still focused on his plate.

“Can I offer you some of my duck?” You ask as you move the fork closer to his sight.

You watch as his eyes snap to the fork. There is a brief hesitation, which makes you second-guess him when offering him food.

You are not an Alpha.

You are not a hybrid.

Unlike offering food to Evie or Derek, you are not his Luna or of his pack.

Pulling back your offer, his hand shoots out and takes hold of your wrist. His eyes snap to you as he watches your face and eats the bite you have offered him.

Your eyes, however, glance at your now empty fork to his lips as he licks up the sauce and then down to his Adam’s apple as he swallows. Finally, your eyes land back on his face.

“It tastes lovely, but was it Miss Y/n who offered me the taste, or was it Luna Y/n?” he asks, pinning you in place with his intensity, still not releasing his hold on your wrist.

You swallow, searching his face for the correct answer. You should have kept to yourself. Your mother always said dotting on others was a sign of bad breeding.

Why did you do it?

Your scent starts to waver, pulling onto the side of the perfume, which alerts the alpha. You feel his thumb rubbing your wrist, and then you feel like you can breathe again.

“I don’t… I just...” You close your eyes and take a breath. “I am sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I wasn’t trying to take your position, Alpha. I promise.”

“Y/n, look at me, please?” You listen and open your eyes, preparing for whatever he says next.

“Y/n, I am Alpha and man enough to know you are not trying to take my position. I am asking because I would like to gauge how to respond to you properly,” reassures Seokjin.

“It's just me, Jin.” Taking a breath, you explain, “I just felt I needed to share with you and take care of you in a way. I know I am human, but I had to follow my intuition. I am sorry.”

As you speak, he smiles and shakes his head, “My dear, you have nothing to be sorry for. Trust me. Remember, this is us learning about each other. This is also where you learn a lot about Alphas.”

“Then why does it matter if it’s Miss me or Luna me?  I am me. I am not your Luna,” you say, still unsure why it matters.

“They are both you, this is true. I suppose I am trying to learn how much of a Luna you are,” he says, confused.

Nodding, you add, “You guys are the first to call me Luna outside Evie and Derek. I mean, even Evie’s mate, who is an Alpha, doesn’t call me Luna.”

“How does it make you feel when we call you Luna? Is it the same feeling that you get when your family pack calls you that?” Seokjin asks, completely forgetting to eat as his focus is solely on you.

“Ah, well, it’s not the same. Bangtan Pack has only called me after I had to correct my Omega, but no one has used it since then. Well, until now, and even then, you weren’t calling me that. It was just a title,” you say honestly but vaguely.

“But how did you feel when Yoongi and Jimin called you Luna? Did you hate it? Did you feel empowered, aroused, or silly?” presses the hybrid Alpha.

Your mind takes you back to the balcony at your pack house, Yoongi’s soft touch and hot breaths: “Your actions were a sight to see, Luna.” Next, you feel like you are back in Jimin’s arms as he holds you. Alpha Chim shines through with a playful smile: “Luna.”

As your body remembers the thrum of energy playing at their touches, at their words, a tang of arousal filters into your sweet pea scent. The change in your scent tells Seokjin more than enough.

You nibble on your bottom lip, debating what to tell the Alpha sitting next to you. You decide to be honest because you are not sure exactly how it made you feel. You say, “It was awkward to hear it from them. I felt a kindling, but I am sure it was just nerves.”

“A kindling? That is understandable. Thank you for telling me, dearest. Now, since you don’t seem to understand the difference between being ‘human you’ and ‘Luna you,’ I will drop it, but that might be something to speak with Namjoon about,” he says, returning to his meal and taking another bite.

Feeling slightly relieved but concerned about the new concept, you say, “Thank you, Jin.”

You learned about this family, including his older brother, who was … still... younger… than you. You also learned more about his and Bangtan's passion for anti-bullying, which led them to become involved with UNICEF.

While you knew he had a fantastic voice because of the song Abyss, you still took the time to listen to his development and struggles as an artist and eldest member of Bangtan.

Dinner ended with a lovely traditional mille-feuille for the two of you to share. Jin had suggested a walk around the area, to which you agreed. You had eaten more than expected, and walking would do you good.

Once outside the door, it was clear that the fall season had started to settle. When Seokjin requested that you walk to the side, away from the cars, you smiled and felt slightly giddy. So far, he was a gentleman.

He had never interrupted you or pushed the conversation too far. Even though he was letting his flirtatious sideshow, it never made you uncomfortable.

You took about five steps before the Alpha covered your shoulders in his suit jacket. His naturally broad shoulders make it easy to drape across yours, even though you weren’t a skinny minny.

The scent of cherries and vanilla permeated the air. The scent brought a sense of calm over you. “Hmm… interesting.”

“What’s interesting?” asks Seokjin, though his eyes still look around at the passing cars and people.

“I think I am starting to determine your individual scents to a degree,” you say, smiling up at him as he stops.

“You can. Who have you figured out so far?” he asks, gesturing to a nearby bench.

Sitting down, you angled toward him, saying, “I am pretty sure I know Jungkook’s, Yoongi’s, and now your scent. Maybe even Jimin’s, but I am least sure about his. I haven’t a clue about the rest.”

Leaning back and bracing his arms along the back of the bench, he takes a moment to think about this: If you can smell the scents, do you also smell the mate scent? The idea that you could, or the hope that you could, would make explaining that you are a mate easier, but he needs to know that you are actually smelling their scents and not just some random human-associated scent thing.  So, he asks, “Let’s see how close you are. What’s our baby Alpha’s scent?”

“He smells like my favorite cookie, Snickerdoodles,” you smile, remembering the warmth that comes with Jungkook’s scent. “Well, it may not be that specific, but it's sweet, like sugar, with a spice that reminds me of cinnamon and warm butter.”

“Very good. Cinnamon, sugar, and butter are his primary scents.” Chuckling, he added, “He would love it if you told our Kookie he smelled like a cookie. How about Yoongi-ah?

Tapping your bottom lip, you try to figure out how to explain the jaguar’s scent, saying, “Now his… I swear his changes.”

This comment causes the Alpha to sit attentively and ask, “What do you mean?”

His Alpha is very curious to know what scents you have smelled when it comes to Alpha Yoon, especially since humans shouldn't be able to detect changes like that.

“Well, typically, he smells like Petrichor, my favorite scent that rain can have. But the other day, I swore I smelled like a stormy ocean-like scent,” you explain.

“Yoongi… smelled like a storming ocean?” You nod and look at him curiously while he tries not to look shocked. Then he informs you, “Whenever he smells like the ocean, it means his Alpha is out in full force, and the storm is when he is mad.”

“Oh well, okay, yeah,” you agree with a nod. “That explains it.”

Tilting his head at your easy acceptance but odd comment, Seokjin wants to know what you mean, “Explains what?”

Your eyes widened a bit before you looked down and pulled the jacket closed more. You still answer, saying, “It was when Prime Alpha made the request before Yoongi took me upstairs.”

“Ah, yes. Not one of our finest moments. Alpha Yoon was not happy. Honestly, I don’t think any of us were,” Seokjin comments, his mind taking him briefly back to that night with a frown before getting back on topic. “What about Jimin? You mentioned you might know what is his.”

“Well, I figured out his scent yesterday, or I think I did,” you start, trying not to remember his physical actions. “Jimin’s eyes. The darkness stole away the white and tinged red when Alpha Chim… came out?”

“Fronted,” the eldest Alpha corrects you.  “When our Alpha’s ‘come out,’ as you said, it is called fronting. Our Alphas are always present in our minds, but they are only in front when there is something they want.”

“Yeah, Alpha Chim called me Luna. He said I smelled of Alpha Yoon but that it was okay because he is a mate, but then he asked if it was okay to scent me, too,” you summarize the events but try to leave out the heavier details because, after all, Jimin is his mate and not yours.

Scooting forward, Seokjin took your hand and looked at you with a vulnerability you hadn’t seen before. He asked, “Alpha Chim asked to scent you. Did you let him?”

“Yes, of course I let him,” you smile. “I wasn’t about to turn him away after what he shared with me, and it felt like it was supposed to happen.”

“His oranges blended with Alpha Yoon’s, and it smelt like I was in an orange grove after a spring rain,” your eyes soften as you remember the tender moment between you and the shorter Alpha.

Seokjin squeezes your hand with a soft smile, “Y/n, you don’t know how happy I am to hear that Chim scented you.”

Smiling at Seokjin’s reaction, a tension you didn’t know you were carrying eased away, and you smiled, saying. “I am glad your pack doesn’t get upset with everyone scenting me. Jimin’s was surprising to me because of how distant he has seemed from the start.”

“Jimin may be a bit more hesitant than his Alpha when it comes to you, not that it’s your fault,” he says, squeezing your hand reassuringly.

“I understand. He told me about what happened.” Looking down at your joined hands, you recall the story of Seul-ki. You choose to let the ferret know that you talked about more than what just happened by saying, “He also said that everyone seemed okay with playmate contracts aside from Hoseok and Yoongi.”

“I bet that is hard to imagine. I mean, with how Yoongi is acting around you,” he teased.

Seokjin notices that the temperature has dropped a bit more, and though you have his jacket, you are starting to shiver. Using your jointed hands, he pulls you up and starts walking back to the can where Jen has been waiting and watching the two of you.

“I know it's been said many times, but things have been and will continue to be different with me for the pack. I haven’t been trained to be a playmate, and I don’t know much about Alphas,” you start with the intention of trying to find a way to tell Seokjin that this will be unexpected.

“Don’t worry too much about being a proper playmate,” he interrupts. “I, for one, don’t feel like that title sets well with you. You feel more important than that.”

When you approach the car, he waves off Jen to open the door for you himself, still being the perfect gentleman. The action, though simple, sets your heart a flutter and causes the vanilla of your scent to bloom as you hand back his jacket and enter the car.

Once you are in, you revel in the warmth it brings. The cold from outside had penetrated you deeper than you thought—one of the side effects of having an autoimmune disorder.

Seokjin joins you in the backseat but notices you still shivering, “Y/n, are you okay? Did you get too cold?”

“I will be fine. I am used to it,” you say as if it were no big deal. I have always run colder than the rest of the world, it seems. I have Hashimoto’s thyroiditis.”

Smoothing out your skirt, you continue, “I know you will get more information with the contract. Just understand… I have had it for a while and am used to it. So, don’t worry.”

Next thing you know, an arm engulfs your shoulders, and you are being manhandled into the middle seat. You’re now angled to have your back pressed against Seokjin’s chest. The action causes you to tense up, which only causes him to hold you a bit firmer.

“Relax, dearest,” says Seokjin softly in your ear like he is telling you a secret. “As a hybrid, we run warmer than humans. As an Alpha, I run even hotter. Allow me to warm you up again, please?”

With every second that passes, you can already feel the tightness in your back release. The Alpha is almost like a heated blanket at your back. Nodding your head, you settle into his hold, “Thank you, Alpha.”

Smiling to yourself, you think about how safe and accepted Seokjin has made you feel all night. Your previous dates, boyfriends, and even your brother never took the time to treat you like a lady. You take a slow breath as you relax and rest your head against his chest. Replaying the night in your mind, the Alpha’s scent surrounds you in the backseat, “Cherries.”

“What was that dear?” asks the Alpha, who was replaying the night himself while staring out the window, trying his hardest not to focus on the feel of you leaning against him.

“Cherries, your scent is subtle, but it's cherries, right?” you ask, moving your body enough to still lean against him but see his face.

“Yes,” a shy smile tugs on his lips. “It’s not one of the stronger scents out of the pack.”

“Sometimes the best scents are not powerful,” you notice the hint of sadness in his eyes. It stirs a desire to get the smile to reach his eyes and prompts you to say, “They are meant to comfort and not intimidate. Any Alpha can intimidate, but it takes an amazing Alpha to comfort.”

Resisting the urge to kiss you, Seokjin softly smiles, saying, “Thank you.”

Aside from you confirming what he had already suspected, he learned relatively little from you because you may need to learn to yourself better or trust him more. He understands that trust takes time and can be built on transparency, so he was happy to answer your questions. This dinner had more riding on it than he thinks you will ever understand.

Though he is not the Prime Alpha, being the eldest Alpha means he has been acting as the Pack Luna. His connection to you is just as crucial as Namjoon’s, which is its own problem for another day.

While it is clear that you have a connection with Yoongi and Jungkook, the mate bond must be solidified by all the mates. It's an all-or-nothing deal.

When the car comes to a stop, he gets out and then helps you as well. Ever the provider, he pulls you tightly to his side to keep you warm as you walk up the steps.

Shockingly, no one is waiting for the two of you to come home. While you look around, wondering where everyone has gone, Seokjin has hung his jacket and kneeled to help you remove your shoes.

“Thank you, Alpha,” you whisper, trying not to break the peace that seems to have settled over the packhouse.

Retaking your hand, he leads you to your bedroom door, pausing briefly before he leans forward to rest his forehead on yours.

In a soft and reverent voice, he says, “Dearest Y/n, taking you out tonight was a pleasure and an honor. I hope you see I am more than just Worldwide Handsome Jin.”

You nod and go to say something, only for him to continue, “Please think on tonight. How you felt going on a date with me, how it felt spending time with me, and how it may be with the rest of us.”

“I had a lovely time, Jin,” you whisper back with your eyes closed, relishing in his closest, if just for tonight. “I have never been treated like a lady of class before, and it made me feel special. Thank you for everything.”

“You are more than welcome. Thank you for giving us a chance.” With that, Seokjin pulls back just enough to kiss your forehead. His Alpha rejoices as you step forward and wrap an arm around his waist in a gentle hug.

“Good night, Alpha,” you say as Seokjin hugs back, rubbing his cheek on your hair in a small act of absent-minded scenting.

“Good night, my dear,” says the eldest Alpha before opening your door and backing away as you close it with a tiny wave. Turning around, you lean against the door, your heart thumping faster than usual. Seokjin’s kiss still feels warm on your face. 

Stepping out of his hold felt more challenging than it should. You weren’t just stepping out of his arms but leaving some of yourself behind.

That’s when you realize you will be a mess at the end of six more dates. At least you have several weeks to sort yourself out before your heart breaks eight times.

Right?

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