#found some cats in the backyard and took them in. got a job at one of the most elite firms in my field completely out of the blue | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bonny-kookoo · 8 months

Text

Jungkook x Reader/ Yoongi x Jimin

𝓢𝔀𝓮𝓮𝓽 𝓣𝓸𝓸𝓽𝓱 [Strawberries]

Yoongi and Jimin are each proud owners of hybrids, and these days, slowly falling in love with one another. And everything could be so perfect- if it wasn't for you absolutely resenting Jungkook- for no reason?

Tags/Warnings: Human!Yoongi, Human!Jimin, Rottweiler hybrid!Jungkook, Cat hybrid!Reader, Enemies to friends to lovers, mentions of past traume, some Yoonmin here and there oops, Main story focus are MC and Kook though

Length: 3.5k words

There is no taglist for this fic.

-> Masterlist

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

Jungkook and Yoongi have been living together for years by now.

The older producer had taken the young dog hybrid in back when the system was a lot more complicated than it is now- requiring a hybrid to actually have an owner as a legal guardian in order to work anywhere, no matter in what field. And after getting to know the back then rather unsure dog hybrid, Yoongi had simply found it unfair that he couldn't proceed any sort of proper education for the kinds of jobs he was dreaming of. So he'd filled in the spot of a legal owner for Jungkook- giving the Rottweiler hybrid the chance to take those chances and make something out of himself.

And nowadays, he's happy- still staying in Yoongi's care, even though he technically doesn't have to with his own job. But he likes Yoongi a lot, sees him as a brother rather than just a friend who helped him, and Yoongi feels the same way. Living with him is comfortable, it's home- it's how he wants things to stay, maybe even forever.

But.. things have been changing, recently.

A couple of weeks ago, the sign stating that the house next to the human-hybrid home of the two was for sale got taken down, signaling that it was finally in the hands of someone new. This caught both their interests, as they watched over the next few days how furniture got delivered, old fences taken down and exchanged for newer one's, and how the overgrown garden in the backyard got finally mowed and put back into a more proper shape- though at the moment, still bland. And then, they moved in. The new neighbors finally showed up, and introduced themselves. Or rather.. one of them did the introducing, while the other simply glared from a distance.

Park Jimin is the name of the friendlier one, a dance teacher very well known in his profession, or so Yoongi had found out by googling his name that same day. The man with the soft facial features owns a hybrid- and from what Jungkook has seen, you're a feline hybrid, a cat with the softest tail he's ever seen. You're always wearing the prettiest, most princess-like clothing, bows and frills and delicate lace decorating all the sleeves and hems of your dresses and skirts. You're pretty, adorable really-

but you're not very friendly, at all, to put it mildly.

When Yoongi had visited Jimin together with Jungkook for a simple dinner (Jungkook has noticed right away that there's something going on between his owner and Jimin), and you had locked yourself into the bedroom the entire night, refusing to come out despite Jimin's constant tries to coax you out. It had made the young man a little uncomfortable, having constantly apologized for your behavior, despite Yoongi's words of comfort and that it didn't bother him.

Jungkook had felt a bit odd, that night. Maybe you were just a little scared? He knows from his job after all that some cat hybrids have a natural fear for dog hybrids that they can't control. Maybe you were one of those?

It took weeks for you to finally sit at the same dinnertable as Yoongi and Jungkook- tonight finally attending, though you glare at Jungkook across the table whenever Jimin isn't paying attention to you. And something both Jungkook and Yoongi notice is just the way the human cares for you.

You're absolutely spoiled rotten.

From getting endless treats and snacks before dinner was even on the table, to the glimpse Jungkook got into your room while passing by towards the bathroom. It's full of plush animals, white and pink furniture, a canopy bed with frills and lace and endless pillows and blankets. It's clear to both Jungkook and Yoongi that your behavior might not just be your own fault- but could also be the result of Jimin's clearly spoiling behavior.

You don't just look like a princess- you're clearly used to being treated like royalty as well.

And Yoongi just watches for tonight, not saying anything because he's simply not in any position to do so. After all, Jimin and him are really just getting to know each other at the moment- and while yes, there are some emotions growing between the two, it's not yet to the point where he'd say that he wants to jump into a relationship yet. And neither does Jimin.

And maybe that's gonna have to stay this way for a while longer- because if you and Jungkook won't get along, there's simply no way that Yoongi could ever be truly happy with Jimin.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

Jungkook is currently busy picking the strawberries from the bushes in his garden when he feels eyes on him, like lasers on the back of his head. One look over his shoulder confirms his suspicion- you're currently peeking over the fence of your own backyard, thinking he cannot see you. Your gardens are so close together that only a small fence really splits them apart, so he has to swallow down a laugh since you're not really being very slick with your blatant staring.

He stands up now, tail wagging in a relaxed, friendly manner, and at that you flop down from your tip-toe position, ears slowly moving backwards in a more defensive manner. "Do you want to try one?" He asks you, and you seem to take a breath to say something, before your eyes spot the ripe, red berry in the rottweiler hybrid's hand. It does look good- probably sweet, and fruity, and delicious- but your eyes keep snapping back to his face.

Maybe you really are scared of him? He feels his heart fall a bit. He really doesn't want to scare you.

"I'm not gonna do anything, promise." He tells you, slowly walking closer with the small basket in his hand. You're taking a step back, but you're also only doing that once- staying at the fence, just making a bit more space, it seems like. "Here- you can have those, and share them with Jimin?" He proposes, and your lips move into a slight pout as you clearly start to contemplate.

You're so cute- even more so up close. Jungkook hopes that you're someone who needs a bit more time to warm up- that you just have to get used to him, maybe.

"Jiminie!" You call over your shoulder, and moments later, the man in question looks out of the back door, greeting Jungkook with a wave and a smile. "Can I have the strawberries?" You ask, and Jimin nods, walking closer now.

"Sure. Are you sure it's okay for us to have them?" He says, a hand on your head making you instinctively purr- and simultaneously Jungkook blush a little, as he realizes his slight feelings of jealousy at seeing you so at ease with the older human.

"We have more to pick, don't worry! But you can have them! They're really sweet." Jungkook says, noticing from the corner of his eye how Yoongi seems to observe the interaction from behind the window.

"Alright then, Thank you." Jimin smiles brightly, before he looks at you expectantly- but you just take the basket without any words, observing the large berries in the basket. Jimin sighs- before he speaks again. "Oh- Yoongi, hi!" He beams, and at that you look up and at the man being greeted, who looks at you with a gaze that shows an entirely different form of expectation.

It looks more demanding than expecting, and you feel yourself shrink in on yourself a bit, ears tilting backwards.

"Jungkook cares for the plants pretty well. He puts a lot of effort into them." Yoongi says, not taking his eyes off of you- as if he's pressuring you with the info of his dog hybrid's hard work. You know exactly what he wants- but he's not your owner. He's got no control over you. So you simply stay stubborn, glaring at him- making Jungkook watch a bit uncomfortably.

"Ah- it's really fine. I get lazy with them sometimes, it's more like a hobby than anything serious." He tries to lift the mood a little, and Jimin nods, before he looks at you now as well-

"…thanks." You huff under your breath, before you quickly turn around with a red face. "Jiminie can you help me wash them?" You instantly ask, jumping a little as you make your request, and Jimin sighs a little, nodding.

"I'll be right with you." He promises, watching you run inside the home, successfully escaping the situation. "I'm sorry about that.." He mumbles, rubbing the back of his neck.

"She can't wash them herself?" Yoongi asks, facial expression a lot softer now.

"I mean she can- I just tend to do those things for her." Jimin says, while Jungkook walks off to pick the rest of the berries, Jimin looking after him for a moment. "She- ah, she comes from a pretty bad background, I'm just trying to give her what she deserves, you know?" Jimin quietly explains.

"I had a hunch." Yoongi nods, crossing his arms. "But don't you think you're spoiling her quite a bit?" He asks, and the younger man nods.

"I'm aware. But it's hard not to." He laughs. "I've gotten used to it. I don't really know how she'd react to change." He offers, and Yoongi shrugs.

"Well, things are about to change if you want us to get anywhere at any point." Yoongi says. "You know this won't work if she keeps her behavior up." He says, though his voice is gentle.

"I know. But it's hard." Jimin whines almost, looking over his shoulder for a second.

"Well, let me ask you this." Yoongi says. "Do you want this?" He gestures between himself and Jimin, and Jimin nods almost instantly. "Then let me help you."

"How?" He asks, unsure.

"Listen, Jungkook might seem like an angel, but he'd act the same if not worse than her if I was to treat him the same as you do her." The older man laughs. "I can help you with her. I won't take over as an owner, absolutely not- that's your role after all, and it's gonna stay that way." He explains to Jimin.

"Yoongi.." Jimin sighs, crossing his arms now as well, while he thinks for a moment. "Okay." He nods after a while. "I want this to work out- and I know, really, that I need to change how I'm doing things right now." He agrees.

"Alright." The older man smiles. "Then let's make it work. Hopefully she'll get over her hatred towards Jungkookie too." He jokes, though Jimin sighs a bit sadly.

"She really doesn't hate him, you know?" He offers. "She's just- you know, back at her first home, and in the shelter, she was bullied quite a lot. And the.. things that happened to her made her awfully defensive towards everything and everyone around her- and she just tends to lash out whenever she feels scared, or you know, upset. She used to yell a lot of mean things at me too, when she was younger and I had just brought her home with me." He explains, and Yoongi nods, now a lot more sympathetic.

"I see. It makes sense then that you've become so soft with her." He offers in understanding. "But Jimin, she's not the same girl you brought home all those years ago."

"I know." Jimin nods. "But it's hard to forget that." He admits, when suddenly, you squeak out, running out the door. "What happened princess?" He worries, as you look at him with wide open eyes, pupils tiny slits.

"There was a bug in the berries!" you yell, and at that, everyone laughs-

Jimin letting go of a big sigh, before he says goodbye to Yoongi to help you fight the evil insect.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

As part of Yoongis plan to make you grow more comfortable with both him and Jungkook, you've all decided to go on a vacation together. A camping trip- something everyone found a great idea, Jungkook all excited since he loves camping- though you had been way more reluctant, considering your fear of bugs and fire, and your distaste for long car rides and anything dirty.

But this time, Jimin had apparently put his foot down- because he'd informed Yoongi not even a day later that it was a great idea, and that him and you would definitely come along. What Jungkook however didn't knew until right now, is that he's gonna share a room with you-

alone.

"But she hates me!" Jungkook complaints, as he stands in the cabin Yoongi is currently unloading the groceries in. "There's no way she'll sleep in the same room as me." He huffs, and Yoongi sighs.

"Well, she has to learn. I already talked to Jimin about it-" He says, putting everything into a box that doesn't have to be stored in the fridge. "-and he agrees that he's spoiled her quite a bit until now. She needs to learn to be a bit more independent." He explains calmly, though he's internally very well aware of your distaste for his dog hybrid. He knows exactly why- but he also respects Jimin's decision to not tell Jungkook anything about your past trauma, claiming that that's something you need to tell, no one else.

And Yoongi agrees with that- but he also feels for Jungkook, who's been really trying to make you warm up to him. He already struggles to find friends due to his intimidating hybrid side and sometimes rather chaotic personality. Seeing you so defensive against him does clearly hurt, no matter ho much Jungkook tries to play it off.

But for once, Yoongi also wants to be a little selfish. He wants to spend time with Jimin, alone time away from you both, just to properly figure out where he truly wants this to go from here on out. It's why he's organized this trip in the first place. To find out if this could truly work out.

And he fears, deep down, that it won't. Because if you and Jungkook don't get along, there's no way Yoongi can ever be happy with Jimin.

A few hours away from the Cabin Yoongi and Jungkook are already setting up, you're pouting next to Jimin in the car, slumped down and with your arms crossed. "Making that face won't make me turn around, princess." Jimin says, voice light- but inside, he's torn. This is going to be tough for you, considering that you're gonna have to stay with Jungkook during the night- and the poor dog hybrid has no idea that you don't actually hate him. You don't hate at all, in fact.

Your defense mechanism when confronted with something you fear however, is to lash out. And that is most of the time taken out of context, making you appear rude and arrogant, when in reality you're just trying not to seem weak or vulnerable.

Because in the past, that would immediately make you the perfect target. Pushed aside and scolded for everything that wasn't ever your fault in your first home, used as a punching bag for other hybrids in the shelter later on, you had to somehow make up a tough façade so you wouldn't end up in those positions ever again. You learned to keep yourself safe by being the one who bites first- and it took Jimin years to truly gain your full trust.

He fears that that's all you can do though. That he's going to forever stay the only person of comfort for you.

And that's an issue. While he himself had been a bit defensive about his treatment of you with Yoongi, he knows that the older man is right. Jimin has been wrapping you in layers of bubble wrap, has spoiled you and nursed your bad habits into what they are today simply because he always saw the scared, shaking hybrid back at the shelter.

But that's not you anymore. You technically have no reason to be scared of anything anymore- but Jimin understands now, after talking numerous times about it with Yoongi, that he's partially at fault for your lack of social skills.

Jungkook had come from a good household- had been raised well, so Yoongi had never really experienced anything like Jimin did with you, but nonetheless, his advice still counts, and is still valid.

You need to learn at some point. You have to realize that there's nothing to fear anymore- and that Jungkook isn't an enemy ready to eat you alive in your sleep.

"Come on, stop pouting now, hm?" He tries, running a hand over your head once at a red light. You just look out the window. "Is Jungkookie that scary?" He asks, and you shake your head.

"He's dumb." You deny, putting your legs up and onto the seat.

"Hey.!" He scolds gently. "Jungkook isn't dumb. He's trying hard, okay? You could be at least civil with him, sugar." He tells you, and you sigh at that, leaning against the door.

"I don't want to." You say defensively, tail angrily flopping around. "You just say that because you wanna be with Yoongi." You huff.

"Partially, I admit that." Jimin nods. "But I also agree with him that you need to be nicer. Jungkookie is really trying to be friends with you, you know?" He sighs.

"I don't care.." You mumble to yourself, angrily looking out the window. You know that Jungkook isn't a threat- but he's still scary to you. He's tall, and a lot of muscle, and he's loud, and energetic, and just.. scary. Intimidating. Potentially dangerous. And that potential alone is enough to make you feel threatened.

Jungkook and Yoongi are currently ruining your perfect life you had with Jimin. So you've got enough reason to be absolutely pissed.

And so you refuse to exit the car in front of the cabin- rather taking a nap inside, until Jimin breaks through Yoongi's advice to just 'let you have your tantrum', unable to right away just let you be. It's unsurprising to the older human- so he doesn't really take it personally, letting him go out and talk to you so you finally come inside.

"Maybe she should sleep with Jimin tonight." Jungkook says, having rather reluctantly brought your luggage into your shared room with him.

"No, she's staying with you tonight, and that's final." Yoongi shakes his head, coincidentally saying exactly that when Jimin walks inside the cabin with you holding his hand. It earns him an angry glare from you, before you let go of Jimin to instead dash past Yoongi and Jungkook and into the room, door slamming shut. Jimin sighs.

"I'm really sorry about her." He shakes his head, sitting down and running a hand over his face. "Ah, this is so uncomfortable!" He laughs a bit, trying to lift the mood, as Yoongi sits down next to him, running a hand over his back.

"It's fine." He simply says, before he nods towards Jungkook, who reluctantly walks away after saying goodnight, opening the door to the dark room.

He gets ready for bed, but he notices that when he returns to the room after brushing his teeth and washing his face, you're still under the blanket in your day clothes, not having moved at all. Assuming that you're in one of your tantrums again, he quietly turns off the lights, and gets into his own bed across from yours, closing his eyes-

when he hears it.

Quiet sniffles, scent of distress coming from you filling the room. It makes him sit up again, eyes having adapted to the dark by now, a little light bleeding in from under the door as well. "You okay.?" He carefully and quietly asks, but you don't answer, instead simply curling up a little tighter. "You.. your bag is next to your bed-"

"Leave me alone!" You hiss, sitting up now and glaring at him with glossy eyes and a runny nose, tail angrily slapping around behind you. "This is your fault! Yours and Yoongis!" You snarl at him, and he's taken aback.

"What did I do?" He asks, unsure, and you scoff.

"You're taking Jimin away from me!" You say, new wave of fresh tears rolling down your cheeks. "He's gonna see how fucking perfect and nice you are instead of me, and then he's gonna bring me back to the shelter so he can be all happily-ever-after with you and Yoongi! Hope you'll be happy then.!" You growl, before you turn around and throw yourself down again, pulling the blanket over you before you quietly continue to cry.

Only now does Jungkook realize that Yoongi was right- you don't hate him. And you're not scared of him either-

you're scared of being left alone.

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #hybrid imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #yoongi imagine #jeon jungkook imagine #yoongi fanfic #jimin imagine #jimin x reader

961 notes · View notes

ccraccz · 6 months

Note

If you have seen the mv can I request with the reader being the owner of Ernest and found her dog ended up with Heartsteel after their music video. When she went to go get him Ernest want to stay with his new owners so she decide to co parent with the boyband

ERNEST?!

Chracters: aphelios, ezreal, sett, kayn, k'sante, yone x fem!reader

Oh Ernest

You love him and trust him a lot

He has helped you through some of your hardest days and made you smile through them

He's your alarm, your annoyance and happiness, your protector, your best friend!

He's your everything

So when you arrive home from work or school (or both, ouch) and Ernest doesn't come running up to you in happiness that his human is back?

You basically felt your heart leap into your throat, and your stomach drop onto the floor

You dropped your stuff on the sofa and search high and low for him

Calling out into your backyard,.looking for if he'd made any holes in the ground and scooted through and out

Looking into your room, in the bathroom

You looked everywhere for your best friend

Tears had just started to appear in your eyes as you sat down on your sofa with a dreadful feeling in your stomach

You felt sick

Breathe in

Breathe out

Breatheeee innn

And out

You stood up, took a cold shower to clear your mind, and changed from you work/school clothes to more comfortable clothes

You grabbed your phone and keys and got out of you home.

You will find your baby Ernest as soon as possible.

———with Ernest———

Kaun was taken off guard when they found a dog during the shoot

And ezreal and Sett being the dog lovers they are, absolutely go crazy for him!

They love him already and they just met the pupper

They basically begged Yone to have him on the set for a while

While Yone was just,,, so tired about their bs

Aphelios didn't seem like the one to like dogs, more like a cat person, but Ernest was the one who came up to him first and sat on his feet for pets and affection

He definitely fell in love with that squishy and incredibly round face

K'sante is definitely mire if a cat person, but doesn't mind any dogs, he's a strong mannnn- uh oh HES GROWLING AT HIM

Yone agrees to keep him on the set, but on the condition that after they record, they call ernest's parent/parent's

They all agree and start recording their new drop with the dog.

After shooting, ezreal, sett, and kayn were all playing with ernest while yone and aphelios were editing their video

K'sante was left with the job of calling Ernest's mom (They found out after your phone led them to your custom voicebox)

With you? You were crying your eyes out

You've been searching everywhere for Ernest

You had just arrived home to shower again, change and cry yourself to sleep

And what made your day even worse than it already is, your phone died and your charger won't work so you don't have a phone for a few days (you were free for a few days due to the boss having some problems)

You could totally buy a new charger but you felt too depressed to do that

You arrived home and fell asleep when your head hit the pillow due to emotional exhaustion.

You just hope that Ernest is doing well

And that this is all but a bad dream

————————————

K'sante tells Yone about Ernet's mom not picking up and they decided to keep him in their shared place

Safe and sound

Sett literally let Ernest sleep with him

Throughout the night, Aphelios stayed up to edit everything, so it was ready to post the next day (impossible ik but IMAGINE LMAO)

That next day, you would have been excited to watch this new boy group that was debuting but

Ernest wasn't there to make your day better

So you did your daily routine without your happy boy, a sad cloud floating about your head.

You didn't do anything throughout the apartment, it being horribly messed up because of Ernest's dissapearence

Eyes bloodshot, you watched the music video on the tv that was posted only for them to woden when you saw your boy in the video

You had to pause the video

it is Ernest

You were just about to cry before you look at your phone

They must have been calling you about it, but because you were so distracted and sad and more

You didn't pick up

You fell to the ground as you cried

Your baby is okay, he's fine

Nothing happened

You're so happy but so guilty

After you wrap your head around what is happening, you instantly get ready to head out.

You get your dead phone and keys, lock the door, and drive ti the nearest gas station and buy a charger

And right when that phone hits 1%, you turn it on, wait a few seconds...

And when it turns on, the calls come rolling it

The voice-mails and calls

So many OH gosh

As you call them back, you couldn't help but let tears start filling your eyes

"Hello?" An accented voice came through, the voices in the background being quite loud

"Umh, hi... I'm sorry for not uh,,, picking up yesterday, I'm Ernest's owner..." You sniff after talking, tears threatening to fall over

"OH yeah! Thank you for calling back! Where would you want to meet to take im back?"

"Urh,.anywhere is fine. I can buy you guys something in the coffee place nearby for leaving you with Ernest"

After that, you landed at a small coffee place, waiting outside for a group of men to enter with a dog

Your legs wouldn't stop moving, and your mind was running a thousand miles per second

This cannot be healthly

It is only when you see a tall man with red and white hair walk in front of a group of men with a leash in hand and a dog pulling on him

Only then does Ernest pause and become sheepish

His nose knew that smell, you were sad

And he knew he was the reason for it.

So, as the group walked towards your table, were you were standing

Ernest ran towards you as you fell to your knees and cried

The boy group couldn't help but feel sad, just imagining how they would feel if their pet or best friend wasn't there where you're used to seeing them?

Yone felt like he should have tried calling more

But sett, ezreal, and kayn felt way more worse

They were loosing their new friend

Poor babies

Aphelios tried to comfort Sett and Ezreal while Yone and K'sante spoke to you about how they found him and how they tried to contact you

And you told them your side of the story

At the end, before leaving the coffee place, ezreal built up the courage to ask if they could come visit and play with Ernest later on

And you, knowing that Ernest most likely loved being with the boys, you agreed.

They gave you their number so they could set up some days and basically babysit Ernest while you're at work and you take him to their concerts where you'd get free/cheaper tickets so they could see him after performing!

How sweet they are 💙💚💜💗❤️

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

Note!

Oml what an adorable ask!!! I LOVED IT SO SO MUCH 🤤🤤

Thank you so much for requesting lovely!! (Also so sorry it took so long! I'm sick and school has been kicking my ass 💀)

#heartsteel kayn #heartsteel sett #heartsteel yone #heartsteel #heartsteel aphelios #heartsteel ezreal #heartsteel k'sante #heartsteel x fem reader

138 notes · View notes

kalyri · 2 years

Text

I actually just went back through my posts, because I wanted to know if I’d ranted about certain things already--personal posts, I don’t like to make them too much unless there’s like a witty attempt at a joke at the end.

But I don’t have one of those right now.

It’s been, I think, 5 weeks since I quit my job and came home to spend more time with my dog before I would have to make the unfortunate--for me--decision to put her down. She was reaching her 16th birthday, her bad legs weren’t working, and she was in so much pain daily that she actually bit my dad when he was trying to help her up the minuscule step into the house from the front porch.

I was going to try and take her up to where I used to live in NC, where her other mom is--my best friend actually got her from a shelter 14-ish years ago and through some unfortunate events (Sushi was hella smart and would escape the yard with the other dog so much that the landlord said my friend couldn’t keep either of them) had to get rid of her. So I took her in. Sushi was just so excited to still be loved instead of being taken back to a shelter, and she loved the new challenges of escaping this new backyard with 6-foot tall wooden privacy fences.

And she did manage to escape the back yard a few times over the year. It didn’t make us angry at her, and the neighborhood understood. Plus, we owned the house we were living in, so we wouldn’t run into the same issue my friend ran into.

Anyway. I ended up having that choice ripped from me, and I was never given the chance to say goodbye. On the 1st or 2nd of August, my parents made the decision to put her down. And I don’t disagree with the decision, and I don’t hate that they made it because it was in Sushi’s best interest. She hadn’t moved from the living room for days, she wasn’t eating, drinking, or going outside. Just a solid 24 hours of no movement. And she’d bitten my dad again and then had a freak out all over the front entryway to the house because she was so scared that they’d do something to her because of it. (She was an abused dog before she came to my friend, this wouldn’t be the first time she’s had this kind of freak out, but this was the first time it was to this extent). So my parents had called our vet--each independently because mom found out how to go about it, but dad still had questions. And they took her in the following Monday. And mom said it was the hardest thing either of them had ever had to do.

To put it in perspective, we’ve had many pets over the years, but we’ve never had to go in on a regular business with the decision to put our pets down. We either had to give pets away (a lab/chow mix I had as a kid), they ran away (several cats), or they died in our arms at an emergency vet visit (a dog from middle school and my sister’s cat from high school). This was the first pet that had reached old age and their body was just failing them. Sushi was almost 16, we knew this was coming, I’d just thought I would be able to spend her last week with her. And I couldn’t because of the nature of my job.

Anyway, they’d taken her in and then opted not to call me and tell me. I had no idea. I told my mom that Tuesday I believe, that I’d quit my job and I was coming home to take some time to heal from the shitstorm that was OTR trucking, and also to spend the last few days with my dog. And I would be home either that thursday or that Friday. And she told me nothing. A couple of days later, I was in the middle of my work day and I guess the strangeness of their lack of mention of Sushi had worked its way to the forefront of my lizard brain, and I asked Mom about her. And Mom told me we’d talk about it when I got home. And my heart dropped.

I kept the tears back, but I physically remember the emotional center of my brain and my heart turning off. I couldn’t have a freak out at that second, I was driving 63mph down the interstate in an 18-wheeler. So I asked her if she was still breathing, and after a solid minute of silence, mom said “No.” And my world cracked. Still, no reaction from me. I asked if it happened in the house, Mom said they took her in a few days ago. And that Dad was going back to pick up her ashes the next day. And I wasn’t angry at the time, it made sense to me why I wasn’t told. They’d done this to me before, but it made more sense then, than it does now.

When your grandfather dies during spring break when you’re enjoying a week off from school in your last year of high school, you don’t want to cut that week short by being like “Your grandpa passed away, we’ll see you at home.” Over the phone on a Tuesday when your kid is in Myrtle Beach enjoying a week of semi-freedom. But this was different. I wasn’t given the choice to say goodbye, something I really wanted. Because the other animals that had died in my arms had been forcibly taken from me, and I hadn’t gotten the chance. And I feel every day that I failed Sushi. Because through the time she spent as my dog, I was off going to college, or I was off working for two weeks at a time--and I couldn’t take her with me.

I wasn’t allowed to say goodbye, and they tried to hide it from me. And that’s the decision I don’t like. I might even venture to say I hate they made that decision. It doesn’t help the rocky relationship I already have with Dad, because of other issues between me and him. But it’s definitely fractured something between me and mom. And I don’t want to live in this house anymore, but I’m still so shattered at this point that I haven’t been able to take care of anything I need to take care of. And she’s still sitting in a box. And I just constantly feel like I’m failing her, even still. I loved her so much that it broke me. But I can’t even be strong enough to take her out of the box and put her in the places she loved most, like I’ve wanted to do for a month now.

I miss her so much. The stupid nicknames I gave her that she responded to, I almost call my cat them once every day. And I just... don’t know how to function some days. Video games and avoidance it is, I guess.

#kaly's being a dumbass #tw: animal death #idk what else to tag this #but i'm putting a majority of it under a cut #if i can remember how #very personal #very much pet death and the aftermath

1 note · View note

fxandchill · 2 years

Text

It's my birthday 💖 life update it's kind of long because I've been going THROUGH IT and need to vent.

I thought by now I'd be moving in to my new apartment and starting my new job but I had a mental breakdown and that was over long story but last year a friend from San Diego asked me to move in with her, then her friend from Ohio wanted to leave Ohio and live in California so my friend asked HER to move in and told me we can live together some other time...so basically ditched me. Then in July her friend thought "hey we should get another roommate" so my friend asked me to live with her AGAIN but the friend from Ohio wanted all this stuff from the apartment like walkability and public transportation (I tried explaining California to her and she wouldnt fucking listen she thinks this is Amsterdam or some shit) and we were looking at no pets allowed places and she had two pets but thought "oh it's fine the landlord wont find out." I wanted to secure a job before moving and her friend is really impulsive and wanted to move right away, she made me feel Bad that we had the same amount of savings and she is down to move and live off savings for a while but I wasn't...so anyways we got offered an apartment that they liked but I didnt and they were like "but if we dont say yes to the first place that approves us we will NEVER find a place" so they ditched me and my friend said "maybe we will live together another time" AGAIN. Funny thing is that same day I got an email from another apartment that approved us. I was so angry at how I was treated by my friend and her friend. My friend apologized and acknowledged she did ditch me for her friend because she seemed so much more ready to move and they both didnt want to wait but I was ready. Eventhough I didnt like the apartment, the budget was decided by them not me, i was too scared to say anything if I disagreed because I thought if I showed any hesitation I was Out so all the apartments had stuff her friend wanted but the stuff on my list like parking was "not a deal breaker" as in if it didnt had what I wanted but had what her friend wanted that was fine. My therapist and i talked and we decided her friend had a lot of red flags for a roommate and its probably good I avoided living with them but now I dont have any roommates...same friend is in a group chat with me and two other friends and when I tried organizing a lil brunch date for my bday they all cancelled on me lol which is fine because I ended up with 3 cats and I'm too busy taking care of them to go.

Sooooo after the roommate shit I got covid and after THAT I found a cat in my backyard. I recognize the cat used to like visit lily but now this cat was skinny and it was a heatwave outside so I took her in. I took her to the vet to check for a chip and she wasnt chipped, so I asked about getting her a check up and spayed and they made me an appointment for next week. After a week, her owners saw her flyer and contacted me. So I gave her back to her owners the day before the vet appointment, I told them I made it and gave them the info to go. I found out the cat is named Momo and is two and not fixed, been pregnant twice, and leaves the house for days at a time so the owners didnt even look for her, they just thought she was off getting pregnant again. I was really upset after meeting the owners, I realized they dont care about their animals and I gave momo back to them. I had a really bad feeling they wouldnt take care of her.

Literally the next day my dad went and adopted two kittens. I told him we should wait but he saw one on the shelter website and if he waited the one he wanted would be gone, then he ended up getting her and her sister. Their names are Zoë and Chloe and they're really great kittens. Just after a week and a half of having the kittens, momo's owners contacted me again and said they're moving and asked if I would take momo. They said if I dont, momo is going to the pound. They do not care at all. My parents said that 2 cats are enough but they dont want momo to go to the pound either so they agreed to try.

Well I texted the owners back and they didnt respond with anything like how it was gonna go, like when do I get her when are they moving etc etc. I couldn't sleep I was so worried, then we found momo in our backyard AGAIN. I called the owners and the carelessness. They were like "oh yea she got out again. No we didnt get her fixed that appointment was the same day I was going back to college so i was too busy. Also we think when she got out she got pregnant again." 1) when I met the owners the first time they knew they were moving and they couldn't go to the vet appointment why didnt they say anything I could have taken her then 2) she was so nonchalant about her cat being pregnant a third time like no consideration to this poor cat going through heat then labor then heat then labor then heat then....?!?! I bet they decided to ask me to take her once they noticed she was starting to look pregnant again probably thought "ugh let's just dump this responsibility on someone else"

So I take momo in, seperate her from the other 2 cats, and get an appointment at the vet....AGAINNNNNN. the owner is still contacting me and OFFERS to pay for it. I ask about momo's history like has she ever been vaccinated (no) so she needs to be spayed and vaccinated, and before that tested for anything that can be transmitted to Zoë and Chloe like FIV (since she was outside gone for days at a time....unfixed and not vaccinated) and dewormed as a precaution. All of this will mean anesthesia and fluids and antibiotics and pain meds which I'm not surprised by, I just had two years worth of that with lily before I lost her last year by now im a pro at giving cats medicine.

Well.....the cost was more than the owner expected because it's an extra charge for spaying pregnant cats and she needed additional stuff. I told the owner about the additional stuff before too and she just said okay let me know what your zelle is. I kid you not, yesterday we got it all done and I paid then zelled the owner and the owner was like "this is too much" I explained each thing in detail, I showed the receipt, I even tried compromising that she pay for just the spay and not the other stuff. No reply. The owner just peaced out, probably ghosted me.

The thing is she offered to pay and every treatment we had to do was a result of their negligence, how could you never take your cat to the vet then give the cat to someone else and put all that on a new owner? Even the shelter where we got the kittens gave us a discount on the spay, and a free vet check up and food and toys to help us get started. The vet I took momo listened to my story and felt Bad so they gave us a discount like almost $200 off. I took lily to the vet enough to know what they charged us was actually not that bad (for everything the total was $549 i put $100 down when I dropped her off and paid $449 when i picked her up). To top it off, way back when I found the owners the first time I found out they had another cat, who I dont like because it ruined our screen door trying to break in and attack lily.

Because of how they treat their cats, their cats have so far 1) damaged my property 2) costs me hundreds in vet bills taking care of what they didnt 3) let loose who knows how many kittens momo and the other cat had. And that's just at my house. My lawyer friend was even telling me to call the c*ps and force the owners to pay for the screen and the vet bills but I hate the pigs and know they won't do anything and even if they did i still dont want to escalate it by bringing in Meanies With Guns into my neighborhood...so my parents agreed and told me to just forget about the owners.

I had all these plans for my birthday week but now I'm taking care of momo and two kittens it's very stressful and tbh I'm overwhelmed as fuck. All this accumulated yesterday after the vet with momo I just had a breakdown. Why does everyone treat me like shit when I try to be nice and do the right thing? My friend ditching me for her other friend, then that friend totally bulldozing me when the three of us were looking for apartments, all my friends cancelling on me for my birthday saying "something came up" when I told them over a month in advance, momo's ex owners walking all over me and genuinely being so oblivious to how awful they are to their cats. This is my villain orgin story.

#personal #long post #cw mental breakdown #life update #kinda hate everyone but cats...cats only friends i have #also i cant find the thing that put the post away under a line im sorry just putting it all out there

0 notes

wishesunderthestars · 3 years

Text

Eunoia // Ch. 14

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

Pairings: Hybrid! BTS x reader

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

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

Word Count: 15k+

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

Masterlist

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

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

The taglist is now closed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Open,” you called.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“When?” Namjoon asked.

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

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

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

You couldn’t skip another event.

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

“I could come with you,” Namjoon offered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You giggled as you separated.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“For me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Another one to add to the list.

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

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

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

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

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

"You won't catch me complaining."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Five,” you said.

He had been sleeping for more than three hours.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” you asked.

He sniffed at the air. “You…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How did you learn of it?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“He is.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Goodnight.”

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

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

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

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

Straight to the point, every word chosen precisely to attract attention. A display of power and wealth. Of course, that’s what sold copies. That’s what people wanted to read; how one of the richest and most famous directors of your generation was showing off their wealth and power. Hybrids continued to be a sign of money. To adopt four hybrids meant you were crazy rich, but people already knew that when similar headlines had swept all tabloids just a year ago, brought on by the outrageous purchase of the Castle.

Four pages were dedicated to you and your hybrids, completed with more photos of the same day and quotes from “insider sources”. You closed the magazine and went to the counter. The cashier scanned it without glancing at your face, which saved you some trouble. You almost thought you would have to re-enact the comedic scene of the cashier looking at the magazine, then at you, then back at the magazine, then back at you like a robot that had stopped working. You shoved the magazine in your bag, self-conscious of anyone seeing it on you, and went back to the studios.

Filming would begin very soon, which meant you were swamped with work. Everything had to be perfect because that’s the kind of director you were. A perfectionist. If it also gave you an excuse not to think about the hybrids and all of the implications of the flutter of your heart when you were with them, you weren’t complaining. And if you were a little more distant, that could easily be attributed to your work too.

Sleepless nights became too common, your head was too loud and Jimin laying next to you only made it louder.

Filming started and your schedule changed. Most days you still woke up early and returned late at night, but because each scene required a specific time of the day there were nights you came back hours after midnight. You had promised the hybrids you would take them with you on set but every morning you got in the car alone.

Fourth day of filming and unexpected rain forced you to cancel the outside shooting. You only had outside filming that day. You rushed to make adjustments and switch to scenes that could be filmed inside the studios. The crew would need time to prepare everything for the filming so you had been left with the morning off.

You unlocked the door, hiding inside the house from the rain. It hadn’t rained like that in a long time. The heavens had opened up and the rain refused to stop coming down like it was determined to turn Los Angeles into a gigantic lake. Your shoes left puddles wherever you stepped, you would have to mop the floors later. You took them off and placed them by the door. They had suffered the most, the rest of yourself was relatively dry with the exception of the lower part of your pants.

No one was attacking you with hugs as you closed the umbrella someone from the staff had handed you, the hybrids mustn’t have heard you coming in. If they had heard you, you would have had an armful of Jimin and Jungkook by now.

“Oh, hey Yoongi,” you greeted the panther hybrid coming out of the kitchen. Your tactic with Yoongi was to act like you were talking to someone who didn’t strongly dislike you. The scowls and the sneers had decreased turning into a plastic sort of indifference and that’s what made you pause. His scowl could cut you like a knife. “Are you alright?”

Yoongi stalked past you. “What are doing back?” he asked harshly.

You were taken aback for a moment. He hadn’t spoken like that to you since before you had left for Virginia. “I have the morning off because of the rain. Did something happen here?”

“Why do you care?” Yoongi stood by the staircase, his black tail unmoving behind him.

“Why would I not care?” you shot back. The rain had already ruined your plans for the day and caused you enough stress to last you for a few more, you didn’t have enough energy to deal with Yoongi. “Seriously, what happened? Is Hoseok alright?”

A low growl vibrated through the room, you almost took a step back at the threatening sound. “Don’t you speak his name. Was caring for him another way to make you feel powerful? Is this some kind of sick way for you to gain power over someone?”

You were too tired to handle this delicately as you should, you recognized that and proceeded to ignore it. “What the hell is this about? I just came back from work.”

Yoongi scoffed, it was an ugly sound. “Because you have brainwashed everyone else, don’t think I don’t see you for who you are. Have you sold our story yet? About how you saved Hoseok and nursed him back to health? I am sure that will sell many magazines. Show them all how all-powerful you are.”

Through the haze of the day, the words started to click. “You found the magazine.”

“You didn’t try to hide it.” You couldn’t remember where you had left it, it had probably ended up in the stack of magazines under the living room table. “I knew no one would take four hybrids in out of the goodness of their hearts. Did it work? Was it worth it or are you already getting bored? Maybe you should adopt a couple more. Make more headlines.”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” you gritted out.

“That’s what you’d like to think,” Yoongi sneered. “All of you are the same. Hiding in your mansions and looking for the next chance to brandish your name. It’s a constant chase of power and standing, isn’t it? And you’ll use anyone you’ll find in your way to climb higher. I know how it is. You can’t fool me. I’ve been dealing with people like you for years!”

Your pants and your wet socks were sticking uncomfortably to your skin. Your head was buzzing. It hurt because that’s everything you had been trying to avoid. Everything you had promised yourself not to become. Everything you had criticized your parents and their circle for. You weren’t like them. You had never been like them.

“You don’t know me, don’t pretend you do,” you said forcefully. “Do you really think that’s how magazines work? I just call them and tell them I want them to write about me? Put me on the front cover? That’s not it. Even if it was, why would I do that? I couldn’t care less about the power-plays you’re talking about. I’m a director and my work speaks for itself. I don’t need magazines to brandish my name because my movies and my shows are more than enough. The paparazzi saw the chance and they took it. Their goal is to sell and their headlines showcase exactly that; what people would buy. I never hid the fact that I adopted hybrids but I wasn’t flaunting it to the media either.”

“Why should I believe you?” Yoongi growled.

You sighed, a sound full of frustration. “Frankly, I don’t see what else I could do to make you believe me! I tended to Hoseok. I didn’t ask any questions. I tried hard not to cross any boundaries and to make you feel welcome. What more do you want me to do?”

“Nothing,” Yoongi said simply. “Nothing you do can change my mind.”

It was like a stone dropped in the pit of your stomach. You shouldn’t have expected anything else. Yoongi had been through a lot, that much was clear, but it was unfair that he was taking out everything on you. You were paying for the scars other humans had inflicted on him.

“I’m not who you think I am.”

“You don’t know what I think.”

“It’s pretty clear,” you muttered. “Alright, I can’t change your mind, I won’t even try. I know how to pick my battles. But if you really despise me so much then why bother? Nothing you say will change anything. Are you trying to uncover some hidden truth about me and how evil I am? Then what?”

The fur on Yoongi’s tail and ears stood on end. “I don’t care. I don’t care about you, about what you have done and what you will do as long as we’re gone from here. I don’t care for your charity or your pity. Did it ever occur to you that I never wanted to be here in the first place?”

You swallowed, willing your heart rate to calm down. “Then tell Hoseok and Jimin yourself. The keys are by the door.”

You didn’t wait for Yoongi to say anything else, turning around and locking yourself in your room. You laid down on your bed, your hands gripping your hair. The exhaustion this time was beyond physical, beyond mental. Your hands retreated from your hair, sliding down your cheeks. Your fingers were wet.

Later when Jimin and Jungkook knocked on the door, you had to open the door or risk worrying them. They jumped on the bed and snuggled close to you. You held your phone waiting for the call to go to the studios.

You didn’t face any new problems with filming. The actors were all incredible, seemingly one with their characters. You did a lot of filming at 300 Fox Way, the psychic’s house with its mystic aura and weirdly compelling assortment of objects. You instructed the actors, talked with the crew, and analyzed the script down to each comma. Focusing on anything other than Yoongi’s words and your hybrids had turned into an art form.

The sleepless nights didn’t cease, you and the moonlight had become good friends. Jimin’s visits to your room thinned out. He had noticed you pulling away. You didn’t hug him anymore or kissed his forehead before falling asleep, you couldn’t come to terms with doing that after everything that had happened. You had thought that maybe you would sleep better alone but that had been proved false soon after.

You got out of bed for the fourth night in a row. Every position was uncomfortable. Keeping your steps light you left the room. The large house was eerie at night, the living room area with its glass walls looked endless, combining the actual living room, the dining room, and what the real estate agents had called the family room that was really just another living room.

You couldn’t stay in your room on nights like these, it was too contained. The night air on your skin sent shivers down your frame as you walked out on the balcony. It was two days before the full moon and its glow illuminated the world.

What had you gotten yourself into? You wished you could go back to that morning and decline your mother’s invitation to the gala. Maybe, just maybe, then you would be able to sleep, your head wouldn’t be fighting you at every turn, at every chance.

Little pieces of moonlight shimmered and danced on the lake. The calmness of the world was a stark contrast to the mess in your head. You remembered how Jungkook had looked at the lake in awe that very first night, you had noticed then that he looked at Jimin the same way. You wondered how you looked at them and if anyone had noticed.

The moon had no answers for you.

Two golden eyes were looking up at you from the garden, they shone like the fires that had been extinguished earlier. Namjoon tilted his head, inviting you down. A weird sense of deja vu took over. You had lived something very similar before, a night that had changed so much.

You shouldn’t go. You should stay where you were, alone and safe, away from fluttering heartbeats and dangerous warmth. But the night had its way of calling out the risky nature of people. The thrill was so much more enticing when darkness ruled.

Climbing down the stairs, you kept your steps quiet. You never knew which sound would wake up the hybrids. Namjoon was standing by the flower bushes close to the curtain of vines that lead into the forest. He was wearing a dark blue pair of pajama pants and a simple black T-shirt.

“What are you doing awake so late?” you whispered, like everything around you had ears.

“I could ask you the same thing.”

You shook your head. “I have trouble sleeping, remember?”

Namjoon had caught you a few times wandering the house at night, he was the only one who knew that a lot of nights sleep didn’t come to you willingly. His own nightly adventures were more complicated.

“Why are you awake?” you asked him again. “Please don’t tell me you smelled distress or something again or I’ll freak.”

Namjoon chuckled, you had missed it. Keeping your distance meant you only saw them for barely two hours every day. They all tried to not make too much noise with you in the constant mood of ‘tired and gloomy’.

“No, that’s not it.” He looked up, over the trees. “It’s the full moon.”

“You have to be kidding me. Do you turn into a wolf too?”

Namjoon raised his hands in surrender, his dimples on full display. “I’m joking, I’m joking. I couldn’t sleep either and I like being outside at night like this. It’s peaceful.”

You couldn’t disagree with that. There was something alluring about the quiet of the night. You would describe yourself more as a morning person than a night owl but both of them were true, waking up early for work then staying up late for it too.

“Are you alright?” The smile had fallen from his lips.

You squirmed under the intensity of his gaze. “I’m just tired, that’s all. Filming takes a lot out of me.”

Namjoon sighed. “Are you sure that’s all there is? You have been acting differently, did you think we wouldn’t notice?”

You knew they would notice but you had hoped they would think it was because of your work. Work did take a lot out of you but it also used to be the reason you were so much happier returning home.

“It has been going on for too long. You don’t spend any time outside your room or your office if it isn’t to eat. You are avoiding us. Jimin and Jungkook stopped scenting you because they think they’re making you uncomfortable.”

“It isn’t- They aren’t making me uncomfortable. I’m just tired from work and I don’t-” you tried to deny it but you fell short of excuses.

“You were working before too, but it wasn’t like this,” he pointed out. “You were tired then too. Some nights you came back and I could smell the exhaustion around you like a disease. But you smiled when Jimin and Jungkook ran up to you and didn’t let you go, you laughed at Jin laughing at his own jokes. You came to me when it got too loud here.” He pointed to your head.

“We weren’t filming then.” It was a weak attempt but you had to make it.

Namjoon regarded you carefully. Beams of moonlight got tangled in his gray hair turning it silver. He looked at home right there at that moment, close to the trees with the moon shining on him. He was every bit of magic you had ever witnessed.

“This started before filming did. I knew there was something wrong when you came back from the gala. Something happened there,” Namjoon concluded. “I should have come with you.”

You shook your head vigorously. Imagining him next to you while your mother spoke about hybrids like that was torture. “No, you shouldn’t. You shouldn’t have been with me.” You paused to compose yourself. “It wasn’t good, it was really bad actually. It wasn’t the gala itself, there some interesting people and… My mother…” You took a deep breath. “I don’t think I like my parents very much,” you admitted.

It was hard to say after years of half-hearted attempts at mending your relationship with them. All those years apart you had become very different people. You had trouble remembering what they were like before they left you in your aunt’s care. You couldn’t see any traces of them in yourself, you didn’t enjoy what they enjoyed, your interests and priorities, the way you viewed the world were very different.

In the past few days, you had grown to hate your mother’s voice in your head but you had a feeling that it had been much longer than that. The only difference was that before, you had been able to ignore it.

Namjoon came closer, his hand touching your palm waiting for you to make the first move. You took his hand in yours, laying your head on his chest. “That’s alright. You don’t have to like them, no one is forcing you to.”

“But they are my parents.”

He stroked your back gently. “It doesn’t matter, that isn’t enough of a reason.”

“They aren’t bad people.”

“They don’t need to be bad people for you to dislike them.”

You stayed like that for a few moments, taking in his presence. You had missed being in his arms so much, like an ache that couldn’t go away.

He stopped stroking your back, cupping your cheek and pulling back so you were facing each other. “I’m always here for you. I don’t care about anything else but seeing you happy. I’m here.”

“I missed you,” you admitted like it was a secret.

Namjoon smiled softly. “I missed you too.” His thumb caressed your lower lip. There was a tingling sensation all over your skin. “Can I?” he asked just like the very first time.

You let out a shuddering breath. “Should we be doing this?”

“Do you want to?” he asked carefully.

You bit your lip before nodding. He leaned down connecting your lips. It was soft and careful, all the longing and hurt of the past days poured into the kiss. You pulled him closer and he came willingly. You could hear your heartbeat in your ears.

An awful laugh cut through the night. You pulled away from Namjoon like you had been burnt. Yoongi was one with the night, dark like a shadow.

“So this is it? Is this why you adopted them all? So you can have your pick when you’re in the mood?” The expression on his face was cruel, twisted up in disgust.

Namjoon growled, his sharp canines shinning in the moonlight. In that moment, Namjoon looked more dangerous than ever before. “Shut your mouth.”

“I see she has turned you into her dog. How long did it take to tame you?”

You held Namjoon back before he could lunge at the panther. You were afraid that if you let him go, there would blood on their clothes. “Don’t.”

Yoongi took a tense step forward. “That’s right, listen to your owner. Is that what she has turned all of you into? Her toys? Just for a roof over your head and food?”

“Shut the fuck up,” Namjoon growled. “Don’t you dare talk about her like that. You have no fucking idea what you’re talking about.”

Yoongi clenched his fists. There was anger and something else you couldn’t see in the night amidst your panic. “I knew it. I knew no one did what you did without any kind of agenda. Seems like the magazine was right, at least in part. You can’t fool me, even if you managed to fool everyone else.”

With that he was gone, like he was never there.

You couldn’t breathe. Your hand was still wrapped around Namjoon’s wrist and you couldn’t breathe. You counted in your head. One, two, three…

When Namjoon tried to touch your shoulder, you pulled away. “I’m going back to my room,” you said. Your voice sounded shaky to your own ears. Namjoon called out to you but you didn’t stop. He didn’t try to touch you again.

Please comment and reblog it motivates me to keep writing

#btscreatorscorner #castlebangtan #bts #bts hybrid au #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #jimin x reader #namjoon x reader #seokjin x reader #yoongi x reader #hoseok x reader #taehyung x reader #poly!bts #poly!bts x reader #bts poly au #bts fanfic #bts scenarios #bts angst #bts hurt/comfort

2K notes · View notes

lillywillow · 3 years

Text

Birthday Wishes

Summary: Bucky wants to plan the best party ever for his young daughter

Word Count: 2430

Square Filled: Free Space

Pairings: Singledad!Bucky x Female Reader/ Steve x Peggy

Warnings: None really

Written for @star-spangled-bingo

Ever since the mother to Bucky’s daughter passed away when she was a baby, he had been totally devoted to her and every year on her birthday, he went all out trying to make it the best one ever.

About a month ago, Tony’s daughter Morgan had a mermaid themed party; complete with a woman dressed as a mermaid. Bucky’s daughter Rebecca had totally raved about it and with her own birthday coming up, he made a note to take one of the business cards with him.

...

The moment Bucky walked into the building, he was in awe. The front of the store was full of costumes, dolls, plushies, pirate treasure chests, fairy wings and wands... every kind of fantasy item a child could possibly want and a lot of it looked handmade. Out the back, he could hear squealing and laughter. A party in progress, perhaps?

“Good afternoon, welcome to Childhood Dreams. How may I help you?” the receptionist asked.

“Hi. I’m looking to book a party? It’s for my daughter...”

“I see. Well, before booking a party, you’ll need to make an appointment with Y/N. She likes to customise her parties to the client. She’s currently doing a performance but if you’re happy to wait, she’ll be done soon...”

“I can wait...”

“Great. Follow me please...”

Bucky followed the receptionist into the back. There was a pirate party taking place with all the children dressed up as pirates. There were props and decorations keeping in tone with the theme and an incredible cake. On the stage up the front was the same woman who had played the part of the mermaid at Morgan’s party, this time she was a pirate, enacting a mighty swordfight with another actor. She really put her all into the performance.

Bucky watched her for a moment before the receptionist pulled him along and guided him to an office along the side. The inside of the office was just as cheerful and childlike as the rest of the place. The desk was lined with small trinkets. Along the walls were various photographs of the woman in different costumes. A princess, a fairy, a friendly witch... there was a costume for every occasion. Bucky was in the middle of admiring them when the door opened and the subject from the photos stepped in.

“You must be the gentleman wanting a party,” she smiled, taking off her hat and eye patch before sitting at her desk and encouraging him to take a seat. “I’m Y/N.”

“Yes, that’s right. My name is Bucky and I’m looking to do a birthday party for my daughter Rebecca,” he said, getting his phone out to show her a picture.

Y/N smiled at the photo of the little girl who was dressed as a princess.

“Tell me about Rebecca. I take it she’s a princess fan?”

Bucky’s face lit up as he spoke about his little girl. Everything that she loved about princesses and fairytales, down to her favourite colours, animals and mythical creatures.

“I’m probably rambling now...”

“No, no, I think it’s sweet to see a father so dedicated to his daughter. Let me show you a few of our packages,” she smiled.

Y/N logged into her tablet to show him a few of the princess themed parties they offered. Bucky looked through the options before deciding on a fantasy type one with princesses, wizards and all things in that vein.

“Will you be having the party here or elsewhere?”

“I think home would be best... unless... here would be better? I don’t know...”

“Some children feel more comfortable on home base and some like going out. It’s really up to you. My job is to give your child the best possible experience...”

Bucky nodded slowly and thought.

“She might like a party in her own backyard...”

“That’s totally fine. I’ll need to visit ahead of time just so I can work on a setup. Now, will you be providing your own cake? If not, I can recommend an excellent bakery.”

“A family friend agreed to make the cake,” Bucky replied.

Y/N nodded and jotted down a few notes.

“What about food?”

“Yes, we’ll be making our own food too.”

Y/N nodded again and wrote down a few more notes. After agreeing on a price, a date and time to meet, his address and the date of the party, Bucky started heading out the door.

“One more thing...”

Bucky turned to look at her.

“I like to ask our clients how they found out about our business...”

“A while ago, you threw a mermaid party for a friend of mine’s daughter. Rebecca couldn’t stop talking about it for days after that...”

Y/N smiled fondly.

“I see... well, I guess I’ll see you when I come to do my inspection. Goodbye, Bucky.”

“Bye.”

As Bucky left the office, he could feel his heart fluttering like it hadn’t done in a long time. Ever since his wife’s passing, Bucky hadn’t even looked at another woman. Well, he had looked but he had always been so busy taking care of Rebecca, he didn’t really have time to be pursuing women. Sure on occasion, he would go on a blind date now and then and Steve would babysit but that would be the extent of it. Bucky thought for sure his dating life was over but talking to Y/N just now... it gave him a lot of hope.

...

Time went by and eventually the day arrived when you went to meet Bucky at his place. Bucky greeted you at the door with a smile and ushered you inside. Smiling, you looked around the place. Pictures of Bucky’s life lined the walls and shelves. Photos of him with friends but most of them were of his little girl. One thing you noticed was the lack of pictures of the girl’s mother. There were a few of her before having the child but not many after.

“So, um... what do you need to see?”

“You mentioned a backyard?” you said, referring back to the interview you had a few days ago.

Bucky nodded and showed you the way. First, you scoped out the best place to conduct your performance then took out your measuring tape to size up the props you might need. As you worked, Bucky could see the gears turning in your head.

“Do you go out to different locations a lot?” Bucky asked, trying to strike up a conversation.

“Not a lot but it’s always fun when we do.”

“How long have you been in business?”

“It’s taken me about ten years to get it off the ground. It’s only been gaining popularity in the last year or so...”

“Wait, so you own Childhood Dreams?”

“Sure do. You see, I always believed childhood should be about fun and games before going onto the drudgery of adulthood. And I help out local business in the process. Most of the items available for purchase were made by local artists. I’m always willing to lend a hand when they need it. That’s why I ask about food. There’s a small bakery a few blocks from the building we’re located who does the most beautiful cakes...”

You suddenly were interrupted by something brushing up against your leg. Looking down, you saw the most adorable white cat.

“Why, hello there. Aren’t you a cutie?” you cooed, bending down to pat the snowy feline.

“This is Alpine. Rebecca is just crazy about her. She’s been a really big help ever since...” Bucky paused, feeling a lump in his throat and tears well up in his eyes.

Alpine trotted over to him and purred as he picked her up.

“Sorry. It’s just... ever since my wife passed when Rebecca was a baby; I’ve wanted to give her the best life possible. I try to give equal amounts of time between her so she can look up to me and work so she has the best things in life...”

You went over and gave him a hug.

“You’re a good man, Bucky. I’ve been in this business long enough to tell the devoted parents from the off-standers. Just by spending a few minutes with you, I already know that you love your daughter and think the world of her. Just make sure you spend a few moments taking care of yourself, okay? It doesn’t have to be much, just enough so you feel good too.”

Bucky gave you a soft smile, knowing that you were right. Everyone had told him as such but sometimes, it’s harder to take advice from the people closest to you.

“Can I get you anything to drink?” he offered.

“Actually, I should get going. I’ve got a children’s charity event I need to get ready for. It’s been really nice seeing you again, Bucky. I guess the next time I see you will be for your daughter’s party.”

“See you then,” Bucky smiled.

He couldn’t wait for the party.

...

Finally, the day of Rebecca’s birthday arrived. Bucky had spent the night before busily transforming his humble home into a castle fit for a princess. He wanted everything to be perfect for his little girl’s special day, buying the most glittery, ruffled princess dress for her to wear, complete with a sparkly tiara. Bucky himself hired a prince costume and even managed to obtain a kitty sized dragon costume for Alpine.

Bucky spent the morning cooking, starting with a plate of pancakes for breakfast before moving onto the finishing touches on the food for the party. He had most of it prepared already but some of it needed heating.

The first to arrive was Wanda with her twin boys who were both in costume. The boys instantly ran over to play with Rebecca while Wanda was left holding the cake she had made along with her purse and the present she had bought. Bucky rushed over to help her with the items and after exchanging greetings and pleasantries, she showed his the cake.

It was everything Bucky could have ever hoped for and more. The cake was purple with ice cream cones decorated like castle turrets, topped with little princess and unicorn figurines and the words ‘Happy Birthday, Rebecca’ written in icing along with the age she was turning. Little pink flowers were piped along the sides.

“Thank you so much, Wanda. Becca’s just going to love it.”

“You’re welcome,” she smiled, giving him a hug.

Soon after Wanda’s arrival was Steve and Peggy with their child followed by Tony, Pepper and Morgan, Sam with his kid and it wasn’t long before all the party guests had arrived. The adults all mingled while the children played together happily. Right on time, Y/N arrived with her scene partner in full costume. She was wearing a knight costume while her partner (whom she introduced as Phil) was dressed as an ‘evil’ wizard. Bucky settled the kids in front of the makeshift stage and let the performance begin.

Y/N started by introducing herself as a knight dedicated to Princess Rebecca.

“That’s me!” Rebecca squealed in delight, jumping to her feet and clapping.

Y/N knelt down to be level with her, crossing her right arm over her chest in a salute.

“I vow to protect you from the evils of the kingdom.”

Suddenly, Phil jumped out of his hiding place.

“Mwa-ha-ha! I am an evil wizard and I am here to change all the cakes into broccoli!”

Bucky thought he was laying it on a little thick but there was a wave of horrified gasps from the kids.

“Not so fast, evil wizard! We will defeat you! Kids, if I’m going to beat him, I’m going to need your help...”

Y/N and Phil made an amazing pair. While Y/N encouraged the children and even a few of the parents to join in, Phil played off their reactions until he was ‘defeated’.

“You win! I will change my evil ways and use my powers for good!” he dramatically cried.

The children all cheered and clapped. The two actors took a bow and started to pack up as Bucky announced it was time for cake. The kids all raced over to where the cake was being brought out.

“Would you two like to stay for cake?” Bucky offered.

Phil looked at Y/N for permission, a hopeful glint in his eye.

“Sure. We have some time before our next appointment,” she smiled. Phil gave a big, childlike grin.

Once everyone had sung Happy Birthday to Rebecca and she had blown out the candles, the cake was served out. Steve approached Bucky.

“Hey, man. How are you doing?”

“A bit tired but seeing the smile on that little girl’s face makes it all worth it,” he softly sighed.

Steve followed Bucky’s gaze to where Rebecca was talking animatedly to Y/N. He could tell the smile on her face was genuine and not just for show. This was a person who loved their job and loved children.

“Is that the same Y/N you’ve been going on about all week?”

“I haven’t been talking about her that much...”

Steve gave him an incredulous look.

“You know, it’s okay to like her. Why don’t you ask her out?”

“What about Rebecca?”

“Peggy and I can look after her while you go out on date. You deserve to be happy too...”

Bucky thought about it for a while and headed over to Y/N and Rebecca.

“Daddy, daddy! Y/N was the mermaid at Morgan’s party! She’s magical...” Rebecca was absolutely smitten with the woman.

“I see... Can I talk Y/N alone for a minute? Then you can open presents,” he smiled.

Rebecca giggled and hugged his leg before running off to play with her friends.

“She’s a darling,” Y/N warmly smiled.

“She is... Listen, Y/N... I was wondering... if you’re not busy tomorrow night... if maybe you’d like to have dinner with me...”

“Like a date?”

Bucky’s face flushed.

“I mean, if you want it to be...”

Y/N kissed his cheek.

“I’d like that. How about 7:00 at the restaurant around the from the Childhood Dreams building. They do an amazing meal...”

“Sounds perfect,” he smiled.

This was one the best days of Bucky’s life. Not only did he pull off the perfect party for his daughter but he took a step back into the dating world with an incredible woman who somehow stole his heart.

#ssb2021 #Free Space #Birthday Wishes #Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #single dad!bucky #Rebecca #Children's birthday party #Acting #phil coulson #Steve Rogers #Friends #Fluff #Alpine

189 notes · View notes

forever-rogue · 3 years

Text

Wonder

A/N: This is completely unwarranted and unnecessary, but I was in a mood, so please enjoy some Javier softness.

Pairing: Javier x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: mild language

MASTERLIST

JAVIER MASTERLIST

»»————-　♡　————-««

Javier ran his hands over his tired face before letting out a long sigh. His whiskey glass had long been emptied, his pack of smokes long gone, and the letters and numbers on the pages in front of him swimming. It was late, far too late for him to still be sitting in his office, but here he was...once again. After rubbing the bleariness from his dry, tired eyes, he stared at the ceiling, mentally preparing to drag his tired body up from the chair and head home. At least he had you to come home to. It was something he’d never imagined, but in reality, there was nothing better than coming back after a long day and crawling into bed with you.

“Hello Handsome,” before he could get too lost in his fantasies of you, it was your very voice that pulled him back into reality. Quickly sitting up and straightened himself, a smile graced his features as he drank you in. You were dressed in pajamas - topped off with one of his old, threadbare sweaters. Perfect.

“Hi cariño,” his dark eyes seemed to grow lighter and they softened as you walked over and hopped onto the edge of his desk. Javier wasted no time in standing up and caging you in with his arms, his face near yours, lips brushing yours ever so lightly, “it’s late pretty girl, what are you doing here?”

“I should be asking you the same thing,” you closed the gap and offered him a gentle, slow kiss. Your hands went to his shoulders and slowly wrapped around his neck and held him close, causing him to practically melt into your touch and wrap his own arms around your waist, “it’s late and I was missing you. I thought you might need me to drag you home and it turned out I was right.”

“I was just-”

“Finishing up,” you finished his sentence, causing him to make a sound between a sigh and laugh, “I know how you are, Javi, and I know you’ve been working way too much. Come on - come home with me. Humor me for at least one night. I��ve got dinner and everything waiting for you.”

A few different looks crossed his features before eventually he swallowed the lump in his throat but gave you a nod. Pressing a kiss to his nose, you slid off the desk and took his hand in yours as you pulled towards the door. Javier hesitated for a moment, causing you to turn around with a worried expression on your face.

“Javier? Is everything alright?”

“I…” he paused for a moment, opening and closing mouths and looking utterly lost. Eventually he shook his head to himself, “i-it’s nothing. Let’s go home, cariño.”

“I love you, Javi,” you laced your fingers together before giving his hand a gentle squeeze. He squeezed back, a sign of reassurance that the two of you had developed.

“...love you too…”

»»————-　♡　————-««

It was an early morning, but as luck would have it, you were already up and flitting about the apartment, cleaning up and organizing things in the midst of making breakfast. You were a creature of habit, and your job required you to be early, which you tended to do on weekends as well.

Doing your best to keep quiet and let Javier sleep in was a challenge, but normally you were a pro at it. Today however, it proved to be a herculean feat as everything seemed to slip from your hands or make a ton of extraneous noise.

After the tin of coffee slipped and fell to the hardwood floor, making the most racket you had ever heard, you were ready to give up.

"Fuck," you hissed under your breath as you hastily tried to clean up the mess of discarded grounds. It was an effort in vain as you panicked and tried to scoop them back up; a small, pathetic sound left your lips.

“Cariño,” his voice was thick and croaky with sleep as he looked at you. Despite your annoyance at your butter fingers and the mess and the noise, you couldn’t help but grin at the sight. He was only sporting his boxers, his dark locks were tousled, eyes still bleary with sleep, light, patchy scruff covering his face, “what’s going on, baby? Do you need a hand?”

“Oh, my love,” your face flushed as he rubbed the heel of his palms against his puffy eyes as he kneeled down to help you, “I-I am so sorry, Javi. I was just doing some cleaning and trying to make breakfast. I’m afraid I am making a mess of everything so far. I wanted to let you sleep in.”

“It’s okay,” he whispered softly, brushing a lot of hair out of your face, “it wasn’t you - I just don’t sleep as well without you anyway. Lemme help.”

“Javier,” you put your hand on his cheek and gently brushed your thumb across the soft, warm skin, “it’s your day off. Get back into bed and sleep a little longer. I’ll have breakfast and coffee soon.”

“What if I don’t want to?” keening into your touch, he turned to press a gentle kiss to your palm, “or you come back with me.”

“Don’t try to sweet talk me, Javi,” you beamed at him. With his help, you managed to finish cleaning up and set the can back on the counter. You reached out a hand to your lover and slowly hoisted him back to his feet, pulling him closer as the two of you studied each other, “back to bed, mister.”

“Nuh uh,” he insisted firmly, his large, warm hands finding your hips as he fluidly hoisted you on the counter and stood between your legs. Placing your hands on his freckled, tan skin, you leaned in and kissed along his shoulder. He must not have been expecting your action because he was barely able to choke back a moan, “baby…”

“You wanted to stay out here,” you grinned as you buried your face into his shoulder, nipping gently at his skin, “take what you can get, Javi.”

“I get way more than I deserve,” he promised as he pulled back and put a finger under chin, turning face up to meet his, “I mean it - you are way too good for me. I have no clue why you stay with me sometimes.”

“Shush,” you pressed a finger to his lips, shaking your head in the process, “I love you for you, Javier. You don’t have to see what I see - but please know that I love you more than you will ever know. You’re a good man, Javi, even if you don’t see it yet, but it’s true. If I have to, I will keep reminding you every single day just how much I love you.”

“I love you too,” he whispered as you slowly removed your finger but grabbed his face and nuzzled your nose against his, “I can’t wait until the day we get out of here and can go and make a home somewhere new - just us.”

“I can’t wait for that either,” you grinned, “it’ll be just us, maybe a dog - oh and a cat - and that’s it. It’ll be good enough for me. I just want you there.”

“Baby...I-”

Before Javi could say anything else, the oven dinged in a shrill, high pitched sound, signaling that your muffins were finished baking.

“Oh!” you pressed a kiss to his cheek before delicately nudging him out of your way and reaching for the oven mitts, “I made your favorite! Lemon-blueberry with poppy seeds. I picked up some fresh fruit at the market yesterday.”

“Y-you made them for me?” he watched you with wide eyes as you turned and gave him an of course type expression, “you didn’t...have to.”

“I wanted to,” you insisted softly, “for your day off. It was supposed to be a surprise, but obviously I ruined that! Now - get back to bed and rest and I’ll finish all of this.”

“Nope,” he insisted as crossed his arms over his chest, “I’m helping you finish, and then we’ll get back into bed together. Si?”

“Si, Javier.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

"Stop!" you chased after the small, wiry little dog with ears much too big as he decided it was play time in the garden. You'd just set all the new flowers and bulbs that you were planning on planting that day but Stevie decided that he had other plans.

He paused momentarily and looked back at you, tail wagging madly as he barked and stole one of the bulbs before running again.

"Stevie! You're cheating! You've got four legs and I need to plant that!" you huffed lightly as you tried to slow him down to no avail. Unfortunately, you'd completely forgotten about all the holes you’d already dug to plant your new arrivals...and promptly proceeded to trip and fall. At this you didn’t fall onto the desk, but tumbled into the soft soil, landing with a small oof.

The bulb dropped from Stevie’s mouth as he frantically ran over to you, trying to make sure you were okay. You wanted to be annoyed, but couldn’t find it in your heart to be so, instead falling into a fit of giggles at your own misfortune and the soft, wet nosed kisses that were being pressed all over your face.

“Now you’re playing dirty on top of it,” you laughed at the little dog as you managed to get back up on your feet. Scooping up the forgotten bulb you showed it to him before bringing your arm back and throwing it across the across. He yipped excitedly before running after it as you shook your head in amusement before trying to brush off some of the direct that was all over your clothes.

“What the hell happened?” you turned and found Javier opened the sliding glass door to the backyard, an expression of confusion and amusement clouded his features as he pulled off his aviators, “are you okay?”

“Hi honey!” you gave him a sheepish wave, “I’m okay - we’re both okay - just ummm...playing?”

“In the dirt?”

“Uh huh…”

“Uh huh honey,” he mused as he set his sunglasses on the table and walked over to you. When he spied the gardening supplies he quickly put two and two together, “Let me guess - playing involved him stealing something and you...tripping?”

“Perhaps,” you grinned as Javier reached over and tenderly brushed some of the dirt that was smudged across your face away, “you’re home early? What happened?”

“Such a nice day,” he mused with a noncommittal shrug of his shoulders, “decided to take advantage of it and left the office early. I thought maybe we could barbecue or something tonight, spend some time in the sun.”

“Oh Javi, that sounds wonderful!” you couldn’t help but throw your arms around him and pull him close. It wasn’t until afterwards that you realized you’d probably gotten him as dirty as you were, “oh no. I’m sorry...I think I just ruined your shirt…”

“You really think I care about that?”

“No,” you agreed with a grin, “but that one’s my favorite on you - tight in all right places. It’d be a shame to see it ruined. Perhaps you should take it off…”

“Aye, cálmate,” he shook his head in amusement as you pouted your lips at him, “how about I go and change into something more comfortable, I’ll start the grill and we can finish planting your new flowers?”

“Fine,” you pouted, causing him to press a kiss to your lips, “I’m glad you’re home, Javi. I’ve missed you. Is it bad to say that life in the suburbs is almost too quiet?”

“Are you telling me that you prefer the craziness and danger of Colombia?” he quirked a brow in amusement as you vehemently shook your head.

“Definitely not,” you insisted, “I like this - boring quiet life. It’s just different, and I’m sure we’ll get used to it. I like coming home every evening and having you there, and knowing that you’re working across the city, safe and sound. But promise me one thing?”

“Anything,” he put his hand on your cheek before pressing a kiss to your temple.

“We won’t become boring old people that never do anything that end up hating each other…”

“That will never happen,” he laughed, “not with you - with us. That much you’ll never have to worry about, pretty girl.”

“Good,” you grinned, “now get changed and help me with the manual labor! You may be retired from the DEA, but you’re not retired from husband duties-”

You froze in panic as soon as the word left your lips. You had meant to use that word, not really anyway. While it may have been what Javier was to you, and in turn you to him, but you never officially crossed that bridge. It was something that had been on your mind, especially after settling down in your quaint Texas neighborhood, but you’d never brought it up much. Neither of you needed a piece of paper to tell you that you were husband and wife...but in some ways you wouldn’t have minded it…

“Javi, I didn’t mean it...like that...just a turn of phrase,” your face felt warm under his curious gaze but he remained silent for a long moment before nodding slowly, “it’s...you know I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. A piece of paper doesn’t change anything. It’s you - it’s always been you.”

“I know baby,” he promised, his soft smile appearing back on his face as you relaxed. The last thing you ever wanted was for him to feel pressured in asking you to marry him. Even if it never happened, it would be okay; Javier wasn’t going anywhere and neither were you, “I love you. Let me get changed and I’ll be back.”

“I love you too, Javi.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Luna!” you ran across the kitchen, attempting to stop her from running away with the kitchen scissors in her chubby little first, “no, no, no! Come on, baby! Stop for Mama!”

She squealed in delight as she toddled away from you, her dark curls bobbing wildly Luckily, she’d only really mastered the art of walking, and barely running, somewhat recently and it wasn’t hard to catch up to her. An arm went around her waist as you swooped her up and quickly snatched the scissors out of her gasp and set them on the table. You’d actually knocked them off the counter and she was quick as lightning when it had come to picking them up.

“You silly little thing,” you breathed a sigh of relief as you held the toddler tightly against your chest, but not before smothering her in little kisses. She giggled happily before babbling at you and attempting to put her little arms around your neck, “you just have to keep me on my toes, huh? Just like your Papa!”

At the mention of Javier, her eyes lit up and she grinned, showing off her little grin and the singular dimple she had definitely inherited from her father. Ruffling her curls, you pressed a kiss to the top of her head before you dragged her high chair into the kitchen and set her down in it. She loved being around the two of you, even if it was one at a time, and was an observant, curious toddler that loved watching whatever was going on.

“Alright, little Miss Luna,” you turned back and gestured to everything on the counter, ”tonight we’re going to make my favorite dessert, but your Papa’s favorite meal. I called your grandpapa and he walked me through each step so I can make it perfectly. You grandmama used to make it for him all the time when he was a kid. I figure we can make it for time as a surprise!”

You threw your arms wide open in excitement as she giggled and clapped her little hands, “and I expect all of your help - my expert sous chef!”

Almost as if she understood, she appeared to nod as you grabbed a cutting board and knife, along with some of the vegetables. You took your time, making sure everything was uniformly and evenly sliced, explaining it all to her, in between telling her some stories about Javier. The appropriate for an almost 18 month old versions, of course.

“You know,” you dumped the sliced vegetables into the big pot, “sometimes we didn’t always get along when we first met. He was stubborn and hardheaded...just like now, but I knew I loved him from the start. We met at work you know, in Colombia. I worked at the embassy building and he worked for the DEA…it was...well, I’ll tell you the nitty gritty when you’re older. But just know that we went through a lot, and we didn’t always get along, but I always loved him. And I like to flatter myself and think he always loved me too.”

“He did,” the sound of Javier’s voice caused you to jump and almost drop the wooden spoon in your hand as you turned around and found him walking into the kitchen. As soon as Luna spotted him, she made grabby arms for him all while excitedly calling out papa!

“I didn’t even hear you come in, nosy!” you playfully chided him as he leaned over to press a gentle, saccharine kiss to your lips, “how long have you been home, honey?”

“Just long enough,” he grinned, “long enough to watch this little brat decide she wanted to start a life of crime! I thought you were supposed to be sweet, Princesa!”

He held her up in the air as she laughed before giving her cheeks a couple of big kisses, “she takes after her father!”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” he snorted in amusement as he wrapped an arm around your shoulder and pulled you in for an embrace. He stilled for a moment and you listened to the steady beat of his heart as held the two of you, “my favorite girls.”

“Javier…”

“Marry me?” he asked after a beat of contemplative silence. You were so surprised, you pulled back and looked into his eyes, brows knitting together in confusion as you were sure you hadn’t heard him correctly. He laughed as if he could read your thoughts before pressing his forehead against yours, “I mean it, baby. Will you marry me? Finally?”

“Yes,” it was said without hesitation, without a moment of doubt, “of course. Of course I’ll marry you, Javi.”

“Do you know how long I’ve been wanting to ask?” he said, almost nervous as you softened under his gaze, “how many times I almost did? How long I’ve had that ring hidden away?”

“What?”

“Yeah,” he laughed at your expression, “so many times, baby. I just...I didn’t want to ruin what we had...what if you had said no?”

“I never would have.”

“I know, I guess I always knew…”

“Why now?”

“It just felt like the perfect time. I couldn’t have asked for more...and I just wanted to. I love you, and Luna, more than you will ever know…”

“We love you too, Javier. More than you will ever know.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

Permanent Taglist: @queenbbarnes @persephonesnebula @ah-callie @blushingwueen @thisis-theway @rosetophighlander @rae-gar-targaryen @hiscyarika @readsalot73 @huliabitch @ollyoxenfrees @coffeeandtodd @beepbeepsephy @scarlettwitcher @nerdyknightwritersblog @choicesarcade @arrowswithwifi @everythingaboutnothingstuff @suckerfor-fanfics @bestintheparsec @javihoney @aeryntheofficial @hail-doodles @engineeredfiction @aeryntheofficial @asgardianvamp21 @keithseabrook27 @karmezii @dearspacepirates @thatsuitlooksgoodonyou @paintballkid711 @mrpascals @lv7867 @artsymaddie @gooddaykate @rosiefridayrogersunday @heyitmelexie @criminalmind1927 @justanotherblonde23 @coni-martina @thewayofthemandalorian @phoenixhalliwell @lucifer @cosmoschick @kochamcie @linkpk88 @leaiorganas @nikkixostan @haley-the-comet @chibi-yuki @computeringturtle @4ng3lf43 @intu-witch-tion @wondergal2001 @gingerbreadandpaper @willowtheewisp @milkxxkookies @smollpinkgirl @zukoyonce @boomtownboy @velia27 @discowitchyy @kiss-evans @theorganasolo @mishasminion360 @its–fandom–darling @emmy626 @nyasiaaaaa

#javier peña #javier peña x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader

322 notes · View notes

wienerbarnes · 3 years

Text

A Certain Romance (2/6)

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 1,685

Warnings: not rlly anything

A/N: a lil bit of a deeper dive for these two’s relationship👀... enjoy!

MAIN MASTERLIST | A CERTAIN ROMANCE MASTERLIST

Your apartment is nice. Very you.

Sam invited him out to some restaurant, but after the last one he suggested, he decided to pass. And when Sam asked him what he was doing instead, if he was seeing you, Bucky lied and said yes. It made Sam happy and got him out of going to another ridiculous restaurant, so he saw it as a win-win.

Once Sam left, though, his thoughts did drift to what you were doing.

You two exchanged numbers at the pizza place after your date, but you two haven’t texted much. He texted you making sure you got home safe, which you did, and a day or so after, you texted him a picture of some advertisement with an awfully cheesy pick-up line written on it, which even he agreed was awful.

But that’s about it. So, he texts you.

Hey. What are u doing?

About to make dinner. Y?

Told Sam I was seeing u. Wanna hang out?

Come over.

Simple enough, he thinks.

You two haven’t had the most meaningful text conversations, clearly, but it’s still nice. No flirting, no typing and retyping messages in order to hook, line, and sinker, no ghosting. No relationship texting.

It was a dream for him. To have a new friend. He’s made plenty of friends, both in New York and in Wakanda. But it’s all under the same… umbrella. Always an agent, a fighter, an analyst of some sort. Someone to train with, to fight with, to fight for. Never someone like you. Someone that works a mundane job and lives in a mundane part of New York where her weekends are filled with going on mundane blind dates or otherwise cooking dinner for one.

It’s a breath of fresh air to not talk about fighting or missions or press or media or anything else he has to hear about at work. The only connection you have with Sam is that you met in a coffee shop a few years ago that has since closed down. He was one of your first friends here.

You could care less about Captain America, too. Which hurts Sam’s ego, and in turn, makes Bucky smile.

So, he goes over to yours.

He’s not sure what you’re making, but he brings a bottle of red wine as a courtesy. You are making dinner after all. Besides, women love wine, right?

Your apartment is nice. Very you.

Enough going on to show that someone does indeed live here, but also enough to show that you’re not exactly swimming in riches, like most people that live in this city.

The place smells like garlic and basil, and he’s glad that he brought the wine.

Shoes discarded at the door, he helps chop up the rest of the ingredients while you put a pot of water to boil. He chops up mushrooms, onion, pancetta, eyeing the bottle of vodka out on the table and tube of tomato paste next to his hand.

It's an understatement to say he’s excited. Most of the pasta he makes is from a bag of precooked noodles and a jar of tomato sauce.

Basic small talk floats through the air as the two of you dance around one another in the kitchen. Even though you’re “dating”, you don’t know much about each other. This isn’t too uncommon from how dating was for Bucky when he was a teenager; you’d marry women knowing very little about them.

Your favorite color is orange. You played violin in grade school. You had a childhood dog named Chowder. Bucky tells you his favorite color is green. He played a little bit of piano when he was younger, but did boxing in his late teens and early twenties before the war. You poke fun at him when he can’t remember the name of his own childhood dog.

“He’s probably rolling over in dog-heaven.”

“Good boy; he’d deserve a treat.”

You laugh.

Easy conversation continues on the couch as bowl after bowl of pasta is eaten and replenished. As fun and seemingly simple questions are asked, like each of your favorite movies or whether or not you pour the milk before the cereal, the room that’s left is used for deeper questions.

“What’s your most embarrassing moment?” You ask him.

He thinks for a moment before opening his mouth, only to close it again. “One time when Princess Shuri was fixing my arm it wasn’t secure completely, so it flew off while I was playing with some of the children.”

“That’s not your most embarrassing moment. I know it’s not, now you have to tell me what it really is.” You tease him.

He’s never been the best liar.

“You’re right, it’s not my most embarrassing moment. My actual most embarrassing moment is just kind of… sad. And I didn’t want to ruin the mood or anything.” He explains, hoping you’ll accept that but instead you give him an encouraging smile to hopefully give him some comfort that whatever it is he wants to tell you is safe in your apartment.

“Okay, uhm. So, in the 40’s, after I was rescued by Steve, but before we shipped out again where I was recaptured for the second and final time. We were all holed up in this little dance club, all the soldiers and their gals. And in walks Peggy Carter in a pretty red dress,” He begins, only glancing at your eyes periodically as if to make sure you’re still there.

“I know she’s Steve’s gal, he told me all about her. I wasn’t flirting with her because I wanted her, I was flirting with her… to make sure I still could. I mean, after being held in that… place… they injected me with stuff, told me things that weren’t true, I mean Steve told me I was repeating my number over and over again when he found me, I didn’t even remember doing that. I felt… violated, used, not like myself. I felt like I wasn’t me anymore.

“So, when Peggy walked in, I thought about how everyone always called me a ladies man, how good I was with women, I mean, I’d take girls out about every damn weekend, you know? I wanted to feel normal, so I flirted with her, tried to get her to dance with me. And she completely ignored me. She never even took her eyes off of Steve. It’s like I was invisible. And it just sort of felt like the nail in the coffin for whoever James Barnes was before the war. It was a realization that I’m never going to be that person again. And it was embarrassing for me.” He explains.

He hasn’t looked up at you again, but he heard your fork stop moving around your bowl a minute or so ago. He feels a lump in his throat thinking about that time, how he knew he’d never get back the man he was, even before knowing what was in store for him after falling off that train. How he used to be this man that wanted a long, happy marriage, six or seven kids running around a big backyard, a white picket fence surrounding a big two-story house in a neighborhood of identical homes. He wanted the cheesy life, at one point. But the same man that wanted that life died falling off a train many years ago.

All of that’s forgotten, though, when you open your mouth, and seem to say the perfect thing to make him feel better.

“One time in the third grade, this girl pulled my skirt down in front of my crush, and I wasn’t wearing any undies.”

A snort escapes his throat as you, somehow, after he’s shared something so deeply personal, something he never even told Steve or Sam about, still found a way to make him laugh. Which is what he wanted, he realizes. The comfort of moving on from that confession and not having to wallow in it like other people would try to. His hand leaves his fork to cover his face as tears threaten to leak out from how hard he’s laughing.

He took that secret to the grave, even if it wasn’t his own. He told himself he’d never tell Steve about how he felt in that situation, and he never did. He never told Steve that he didn’t enlist, either. He couldn’t imagine how Steve would’ve felt knowing that the army would’ve rather taken men that didn’t want to go to war, men who were terrified to go to war, had too much to lose and wanted to be selfish and stay home, than men like Steve who would do anything to enlist. Including lying on the damn enlistment form.

He wonders if Steve is looking at him now. Watching over him as he shares something that he never did with his best friend, with you, a girl he’s met barely a week ago, on your couch over bowls of pasta while he points out leftover sauce on the corner of your lip.

“What’s your greatest fear?” He asks you next.

“Dying alone. Actually, no. Getting kidnapped, probably.”

“Oh, mine’s spiders.” He shares.

It’s so easy to laugh with you, he finds. He jokes with Sam a lot, all the bickering and teasing all in good fun at the end of the day, and it’s mostly pretty funny. But laughing with you. He feels like a teenager again. Somehow, everything is funny; he doesn’t remember the last time he’s laughed so much, especially about things that aren’t even that funny.

It’s raining at the end of the night. Early morning, rather.

“You can take the couch, if you’d like.”

“Nah, I don't mind a little rain, and I like the ride home.” He fed Alpine before he left, but he imagines his cat misses him, even if she’s probably busy licking herself to even notice he’s left.

“Suit yourself.”

You don’t push him. A simple pleasure that’s more of a luxury for him. There’s no pushing or convincing or Are you sure’s with you.

Certainly a luxury, you are.

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes series #bucky barnes au #marvel

193 notes · View notes

kinglazrus · 3 years

Text

Twice is (Never) Enough

Phic Phight for @syrren, continuation of the deadpool AU

AO3 | FFN

Summary: Danny remembers promising his friends two deaths was enough for him. He remembers when keeping track of how many times he died felt so important. Now, hundreds of fatal wounds later, he can't remember why.

Word count: 2374

A moaning wind pushes the fading storm clouds across the sky. Danny first saw them around noon, gathering on the horizon. From the streets of Amity Park, the clouds started as heaps of grey peeking above the buildings. Although the wind was rough and cold, the city basked in sunlight. If you found a spot to stand safe from the breeze, the sun's warmth was rather pleasant. Danny likes this kind of day the best. It helps, sometimes, when his body can't decide whether it's too hot or too cold, switching rapidly between sweats and chills at such a rapid pace that it might have killed a normal person.

Maybe it killed Danny, tool. On those days, it is normal for him to suddenly fall asleep, succumbing to the dizziness in his head and the shortness of his breath. He wakes up minutes later feeling healthy as ever. Then the struggle starts over again.

On those days, when the weather is as indecisive as Danny's body, he can hop from the comforting cold of the wind to the soothing warmth of the sun as needed. However, it only lasted a few hours today. As Danny's patrol took him to the edge of the city, he stopped by the bridge leading to Elmerton and found the distant clouds looming overhead, threatening to suffocate what little sunlight remained. Standing on the bridge's rail, overlooking the expanse of the river, he could finally see what the city had hidden from him before. The distant sky was a dark, stormy blue, filled with the haze of falling rain.

Within the hour, Amity Park was drenched. Freezing rain pelted against the sidewalk, rattled windows, blinded drivers. More than once, Danny had to swing down from the rooftops and rescue a pedestrian from certain death. These kinds of heroics weren't normally part of Danny's job description, but he was there and had nothing better to do. It earned him a few bruised ribs, a broken arm, and one skull cracked against the sidewalk. He got better, though. As he always did.

But that had been hours ago before the Fight Knight decided this gloomy weather was the perfect time to lay siege to the city. His mistake. He could only do so much as a one-man army, especially against a kid who doesn't fear death.

Danny shakes the Fenton Thermos, knocking around the occupant inside.

"Stop. Invading. My. City!" He throws the thermos in the air and boots it down the street. It pings off street lamps and cars (oops), nearly all the way down to the next stoplight. Danny, bored, watches it bounce with dull eyes. Maybe that will knock some sense into the knight.

A gust of wind tears down the streets, buffeting against Danny's back and knocking him forward a few steps. Danny hisses when his feet jolt against the pavement and the pain in his chest flairs. Right, the sword.

Gripping Soul Shredder's hilt, he braces himself before yanking it out. The blade bites at the edges of his wound, one last pointless strike against him. In his hand, the hilt burns, crying out against his possession of the sword. He hefts the blade over his head and waves it.

"This is mine, now!" he calls out to the thermos. The sword, as if protesting, burns hotter, but Danny is too stubborn to let go. Even as the heat burns the fabric of his gloves, his grip stays tight.

Another howling wind hurls its way down the street. It catches the thermos and sends it spinning away into the street and out of sight.

"Shit." Danny takes off after it. His chest, not yet fully healed, burns. Blood drips down the front of his suit, at least Danny calls it blood. He can't remember the last time he actually saw red dripping from his open wounds. Everything inside him turned black long ago.

He finds the thermos easily, caught beneath the tire of a parked car. It rattles when he picks it up. The Fright Knight is obviously displeased with his circumstances. Good. Maybe next time he will think twice before invading the city. This had to be, what, the sixtieth time? He stopped keeping track when it hit the double digits decades ago.

This isn't the first time Danny has thought about keeping Fright's sword, either. The temptation has followed him ever since he stopped bothering to sheath it in pumpkin near thirty invasions ago, but the sword never stays with him long. These past few minutes have been the longest he's ever held it without it disappearing on him.

Danny clips the thermos to his belt on one side and slides the sword into the other. The blade slaps against his leg as he walks. His belt pulls from the additional weight, too, but he can put up with it. With the threat gone and the city quiet, he stops in the middle of the street, hands on his hips, and sighs.

"Now what?" he asks the cold night air.

The wind answers him with a low moan.

"You are a terrible conversationist."

If the wind is offended it doesn't say, which only proves Danny's point. A good conversation needs some back and forth, none of this moaning and wailing stuff. He tried that for a year. It doesn't work.

With no more ghosts left to fight, Danny heads home.

—

The Master Mansion used to be the nicest house in Amity Park. No one could deny its grandeur; only the old Manson estate could challenge Vlad's house in size. But years of neglect have taken their toll on the Master Mansion. The once well-manicured lawn grows wild and tangled, the grass well past Danny's knee. Weeds fill the cracks in the driveway. Hedges, once trimmed to perfect circles, having become hulking green beasts of tangled limbs.

The mansion itself fairs no better. Broken windows, missing shingles on the roof. The garage house collapses inward, closer, and closer to collapsing every year. Once, a long time ago, Danny thought about fixing the garage, since it's his fault it ended up in such a state. It didn't take him long to decide he didn't care.

"Hey Fruitloop, I'm back," Danny calls as he walks through the door. His body, too flesh for an act so ghostly, resists. Walking through the solid would is like pushing your way through a lake of ectoplasm with a broken leg and deadweight hanging off your shoulders. Danny should know.

Opening the door like a normal person would have been easier, but if Danny's predicament is going to give him slightly convenient ghost powers, then damn it, he is going to use them. He has earned it.

Vlad doesn't answer him.

"Are you alive?" Danny shouts.

Still no answer.

He deposits the thermos by the door, leaving it on the front table. There will be time to release its prisoner later. He keeps the sword at his hip, though. During the long walk from the city to the mansion, Soul Shredder's weight has quickly become a comfort at his side. The blade still burns, but in the lingering cold of the storm, the heat comforts him more than it hurts.

Danny walks to the main hall, heading up the grand staircase to the second floor. The entire North wing of the mansion is Vlad's, while Danny has laid claim to the rest. It's more than generous, considering Vlad's a nutcase who doesn't deserve so much care. He can barely walk most days, anyway. If he tried to shuffle his way from one end of the wing to another he might just collapse and die.

Vlad's room lies at the far end of the wing, with large floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the backyard. It must have been quite the view when Vlad had dozens of domestic workers managing his estate from day to day. When Danny pushes open the door to Vlad's room, the first thing he sees is the curtains draws open, letting in dull moonlight. Outside, the clouds are finally blowing past Amity Park.

The bed is empty, covers rumpled and hanging off the mattress. Scanning the room, Danny can't find any sign of Vlad.

Danny peeks into the dark bathroom. "Did you crawl off like a cat to die alone?" Empty. He moves on to other rooms, the study, the library—which is basically the study but with a few more books—the Packers room. All of them empty.

"Remember when Maddie did that?" Danny continues his one-sided conversation. "I found her in the garage under that dumb Lexus you loved so much?"

He heads away from the North wing. Maybe Vlad didcrawl away to die. It is a miracle he could have made it so far. Danny's tempted to give up, but he spurs on anyway. He doesn't care for Vlad, despite living with the man. It is more for convenience than anything. And, perhaps, because they are more alike than Danny wants to admit.

His search carries him to the back of the house, through the kitchen, toward the entertainment room where Vlad used to hold parties. Sliding glass doors along the outer wall lead to the backyard. One of them is open. When Danny steps outside, he finds Vlad instantly. A shadow slumped over in a garden chair, looking out over what used to be the pool. Now it's just a hole in the ground surrounded by pretty tiles.

"Damn. I thought you'd be under the car," Danny says.

"Do I want... to know... what you mean?" Vlad has to pause every few words and take a breath. His comes out low and raspy, so rough that hearing it makes Danny's own throat itch. Danny can't hear a trace of the silky voice Vlad used to have.

"I don't know, do you?" Danny asks.

"Still... after all this time... so juvenile."

"What's the point of being an adult if you can't be a kid sometimes?" Danny says with his young voice in his young body, neither of which has changed in over fifty years. He leans against Vlad's chair, elbow resting on the back. His arm barely brushes Vlad's shoulder, but it's enough to make the man groan.

Vlad, like the house, has grown withered and neglected. Nothing but sagging scar tissue and brittle bones. It must have taken him hours to get down here, perhaps the whole day. It would surprise Danny if Vlad had still been making his way outside when he got home.

The hole where Vlad's right eye used to be serves as a bitter reminder of what, or who put him in this state. Perhaps comparing him to the garage house is a better analogy.

"What is it... like?" Vlad asks. It is hard for Danny to pick emotion out of Vlad's voice, but the tremble sounds stronger now. Not the tremor of a weak throat, although Vlad certainly has that, but a waver of fear. A small admittance of weakness that he rarely ever allows, much less shows to others.

But Danny isn't other. Everyone else is, always has been. He doesn't need to ask what Vlad means. "I don't know."

Vlad tilts his head. "How?"

Danny shrugs. "I used to know, I think, but..." Things change. Dying changes you. And dying over, and over, and over again changes you so much that sometimes it is hard to tell what you were like before. So many sensations. So many memories.

Jazz told him, once, that patients with dementia have an easier time recalling old memories, those earlier in their life, then later ones. It doesn't matter if the later memories formed before dementia set in, they're just too new. When someone remembers something for decades, it passes through their head again and again, etched deeper into their mind the more often they remember it. It makes it easier, later, when their minds start slipping, for them to recall those moments they burned into their brains over the years.

For Danny, one such memory comes from the early days of his abilities. At that point, he had only died twice, and he made a promise with Sam and Tucker. Twice is enough. It sounds ridiculous now.

Twice is enough? He died at least four times today, maybe five. He still hasn't decided if he blacked out from his fever that morning or if it boiled him from the inside out. His hand drops from Vlad's chair to Soul Shredder, fingers curling loosely around the hilt. It feels heavier than ever.

Twice is enough. Twice is a fool's dream, the passing wish of a child who knew too little about the world and about himself.

Closing his eyes, Danny reaches inside himself and finds a burning light. Thousands of them, little pieces chipped away from a part of him so far beyond his comprehension he didn't know it existed until Skulker, so rudely, opened his eyes to it. Together, they shine as one solid mass, but he knows the truth. Inside, Danny is broken.

He used to have a notebook. It was Jazz's idea. Confront your trauma through words. Write down what kills you then burn the pages. She got the idea from some therapy textbook. To this day, Danny isn't sure what burning the pages was supposed to do. Whatever great expectations Jazz put upon the ritual, they didn't work. Mostly because Danny never followed through.

He can still picture those first few pages, written with more care than he put into his English homework. Electrocution, suffocation, burning, bludgeoning. Every time he died, he made an entry in the book, put down the details. It seemed so important at the time. Include every detail, how he felt, what it felt like, how fast he healed, who was there to see him die. Pages upon pages of his most traumatic experiences bound together in a neat little coil ringer notebook.

Danny remembers the promise. He remembers writing those words. He remembers believing it meant something. There had to be a reason for it, an explanation beyond the science that would reveal to him some great truth about why this happened. He's not foolish enough to believe that anymore.

Twice was never enough.

#phic phight #phic phight 2021 #phanfic #phicc #dp fanfiction #danny phantom #deadpool au #danny phantom fanfiction #tumblroneshots #vlad masters

47 notes · View notes

settersloveletters · 4 years

Text

MR. HOTSHOT CEO

— part nineteen; yui

prev | masterlist | next

⤷ y/n is an outgoing and bubbly girl who just landed a job as a secretary for bouncing ball corp. kenma kozume, ceo of bouncing ball corp, works secretly as a gaming youtuber and streamer under the name kodzuken. after a miscommunication and y/n learns the truth about kenma both their worlds collide. what does fate have in store for these two?

a/n: AND ITS HERE,, this is the final chapter for MHSCEO (chapter 20 is the epilogue) i decided ti make it a written part just bc there were too many things that needed to be explained. anyways thank you guys for reading this series and i’ll see you in the epilogue mwah !

oh! and pls make sure to stream OYA for clear skin !!

➳ word count: 3.2k

➳ warnings: workplace harassment/bullying; mentions of drinking and alcohol

➳ written by: kiri ♡

[ ! ] written part is under the cut

The thirty minutes passed by quickly, and soon (Y/N) found herself sitting in the passenger’s seat of her boss’ car. Now that she was actually with him, she had no idea what to say. She stole a glance at Kenma, wondering what he was thinking. So many things had happened within the span of 24 hours; she wasn’t watching how much alcohol she was consuming, which then led to a picture of her and Kuroo getting posted across the internet — she cursed herself for that — but when she learned that Kenma also had one too many drinks, and proceeded to film himself drunk on camera, (Y/N) couldn’t have blamed herself more for everything.

“Stop blaming yourself.” Kenma’s soft voice interrupted her thoughts. Her head turned to look at the blonde, who still had his head facing towards the road. Those were the first words he had uttered since (Y/N) got into his car.

“How can I not blame myself”

Kenma’s eyes glanced at her quickly, before refocusing on the road. “It was my choice to be careless and drink that much (Y/N).”

She watched the blonde carefully, one particular question sitting on the tip of her tongue. “Why’d you become so distant Kenma. Why did you keep avoiding me?”

The Youtuber pursed his lips, staying silent for a moment before opening up his mouth to reply. “I was...I was just hurt.” (Y/N)’s brows furrowed at his words.

“Hurt?” She gave him a confused look. “I hurt you? When did I— what did I say to you?” she had a panicked look in her eye.

“No— (Y/N), you’re not the one who hurt me. Well, I’m not saying that you didn’t hurt me, but I wasn’t in the right state of mind to really process anything, but when I say that I was hurt, I wasn’t talking about you, (Y/N).”

That made her even more confused. “Then who are you talking Kenma—”

BZZT! BZZ! BZZT!

(Y/N)’s phone buzzed in her lap, interrupting her question. She had gotten a text. Her eyes widened as she bit your lip, hesitating before lifting up her phone to unlock it. Kenma took note of that, and when the car reached a red light, he turned his head to study (Y/N)’s face. He watched as her eyes read over the text that she received, eyes starting to water a bit. Her expression turned grim, and she sniffled before turning off her phone and stared out the window. What could have made (Y/N)’s mood turn sour?

“(Y/N)?” he whispered, and placed a hand over hers which pulled away, bringing it to her chest.

“Please, just, not yet Kenma.”

The two of them remained in silence for the remainder of the ride to Kenma’s house. (Y/N)’s mind too focused on the text she received, and Kenma too focused on what made her upset.

---

Once they both arrived at his house, Kenma told (Y/N) the directions to the room he wanted her in before going down a different hallway, leaving her alone. She walked straight down the hallway she was currently in, smiling softly when she passed by his recording room. If it wasn’t for that same recording room, she would have never found out about Kenma’s double life as a young CEO and a famous Youtuber.

(Y/N) passed by two more rooms, before reaching the room Kenma said to wait for him in. Sliding the door open, she scanned the room before her. The floor was covered with tatami mats, a small table sitting on top of them right in the middle of the room. On one wall, a painting of a small tabby cat taking a nap in a flower bed was strung on one of the walls. Across the same wall, led to his backyard, which just so happened to be a garden.

“(Y/N),” she turned yourself around to see Kenma standing behind her, holding what seemed to be a tea set on a silver tray. “Come on.” he said, walking into the room.

(Y/N) followed him and sat crossed-legged on the tatami mats, gazing at the garden the room was beside. She didn’t know why, but the garden certainly calmed her down. Still staring at the garden, she heard something being placed in front of her on the table. Kenma had placed one of the teacups that was on the tray he was carrying in front of her.

“Tea?”

Kenma nodded, as he held the ceramic teapot and poured some into her cup. “Chamomile tea. It’s to calm you down a bit, you were shaking a little in the car, and even when you were coming into the house.”

The girl had barely noticed it. (Y/N) bit the bottom of your lip due to habit before asking, “I didn’t think you’d be the type to be knowledgeable on tea.”

“Oh he isn’t sweetie,” a voice said from the direction of the garden. (Y/N) looked over to see an elderly woman sweeping the floors outside. “I saw him in the kitchen looking at the various teas we had. He ended up asking me what tea was the best to relieve one’s stress and anxiety.” the little old lady smiled, before sweeping away from the room.

When she looked back at Kenma, she could see him avoiding her eyes, a small tint of red could be seen on the tips of his ears. ‘How cute.’ she thought to herself. That elderly woman must have been Kenma’s caretaker.

“So,” (Y/N) started off after taking a sip of her tea. “If I wasn’t the person you said ‘hurt’ you, who were you talking about then Kenma?” she asked, as she recalled their earlier conversation before you were interrupted by that text message.

Kenma sighed, “I don’t like bringing this up,” he gazed into his tea cup. “But this happened a few months before I had met you.”

(Y/N) focused her attention on the blonde that was seated in front of her, as he started to tell his story.

“I had already made a name for myself in the business world. Sealing business deals, coming up with new concepts and ideas that no other businessman had thought of yet. I didn’t have a secretary yet, since I seemed to handle everything already, but Kuroo suggested I hire one thinking I’d become too busy to look for one later on. I trusted him on that, so I ended up hiring a woman around your age. Her name was Yui.”

She couldn’t remember if Kuroo or Kenma spoke of this Yui, but she noticed how tense Kenma got when he mentioned her name. “What did she do?”

He crossed his arms, and rested them on the table before continuing. “Yui played her role as my secretary to a T. She handled and scheduled my meetings within the first hour of her shift. She didn’t need any supervising when it came to typing any sort of documents I needed. Her papers were written excellently. She was the model secretary.”

“If she was the model secretary, why is she gone?”

“About three months into her position, she started to get closer to me. She would try to start up conversations with me. She would text me outside of office hours, inviting me out to dinner or drinks. I didn’t know what game she was playing at, and when I had asked her about it, the only thing she said was that she wanted us to be friends. I didn’t see a problem with that, so we went out a few times for lunch and dinner. I had started to talk to her more often, even video-calling her sometimes. We had our little inside jokes and banter that made my day. I started to develop feelings for Yui.”

(Y/N)’s eyes widened at that. It sounded like Yui reciprocated Kenma’s feelings, so what went wrong?

“I was never the best when it came to dealing with my own feelings and emotions — you can ask Kuroo that — so I never acted on them. I didn’t wanna ruin the relationship I already had with Yui, so I just stayed quiet. I was perfectly fine with just being friends with her.”

Kenma’s mood started to turn grim, and (Y/N) could tell something bad had happened between the two.

“I had completely forgotten about a lunch Yui and I planned one day, because of the endless paperwork I had to go through. I was behind on a video for my youtube channel because of it, so I started to record a short one. It looked like Yui was waiting for a while at our usual restaurant, and when she tried calling me it had only gone to voicemail because I turned off my phone during the recording session. Yui came here looking for me. She told my caretaker that I had invited her over, and she walked in on me finishing up my recording. Just like you, she found out about Kodzuken.”

Another person found out about Kodzuken? And they were also a secretary for Kenma? ‘Huh, what are the odds.’ (Y/N) thought to herself.

“When she found out, Yui promised and said that she would keep it a secret. I trusted her words. On the way out, Kuroo stopped by and I introduced the two. A few weeks passed and I noticed that Yui had started to grow more distant. We started to talk less, she passed on any lunches or dinners I invited her too. I started to get confused, and hurt. I thought that we’d gotten pretty close. But it turns out that Yui was just playing me the whole time.”

(Y/N) and Kenma both finished their cups of tea, and she moved to pour both of them a second one. As she poured the tea in his cup (Y/N) asked, “How was she playing you?”

“I was heading towards my office, when Kuroo texted me saying that he was dropping off some stuff his father asked him to pass on to me. I noticed that Yui wasn’t at her desk, so I thought that she was just running late. Pretty dumb of me now that I think about it, since Yui was never late to a shift. I ended up walking in on Kuroo and Yui, who had her arms wrapped around his neck bringing him down to kiss her. The minute I opened the door, Kuroo pushed her off glaring at her. He passed by me and I already knew that Kuroo had no intention of kissing her. I asked Yui what she was doing, and instead of her kind smile, she wore a different expression. One that felt darker. Turns out that the Yui I thought I knew was just an act.”

Kenma recalled how he was feeling back then.

“I was so confused then, and Yui just laughed at me. When I asked her to explain what the hell she was doing, she just laughed at me. Apparently, she put on that nice girl facade to get closer to me. She never really wanted to be friends with me, nor did she want anything else to happen between us. She saw me as this young rich guy who had power in the business industry and thought she could have used that to her advantage. Turns out that Kuroo was more her type, and she thought that she could have won him over by asking him to team up with her to take over my business. Obviously, she didn’t know that Kuroo wanted nothing to do with the business industry. I told her that she was fired right on the spot, but she wouldn’t let me.”

“What?” (Y/N) asked. “What do you mean she wouldn’t let you fire her?”

“Exactly as it sounds. She threatened that if I fire her without giving her some sort of compensation, she would expose me as Kodzuken. I had just taken over as CEO, and even though I made a big name for myself, not everyone approved of me because of how young I was. I knew that if word got out that I was a Youtuber on the side, everyone would have said that I wasn’t focused on the business. I ended up paying Yui fifteen grand to keep her quiet about Kodzuken.”

Kenma’s eyes widened when he saw (Y/N) choke on the tea she was drinking. “(Y/N)!”

“I’m sorry, how much did you pay her Kenma?”

“Fifteen thousand.” (Y/N) stared at him. She couldn’t believe her ears when he told her that’s how much it took for Yui to stay silent.

“And she was quiet ever since?”

Kenma shook his head, “She started to bug me a few weeks back, but I told her that I didn’t care if Kodzuken’s secret identity got out. I already proved myself to be a good businessman and entrepreneur, if Kodzu got out, it wouldn’t have been the end of the world.”

(Y/N) didn’t know what to say after Kenma shared his story. Her thoughts were jumbling together going over his past once again, before her phone gave another buzz.

BZZT!

She grimaced when she heard the buzz, and lifted her phone to see yet another text message sent to her. (Y/N) didn’t expect to start getting these texts again. She placed her phone, face down on the table before staring straight into her cup, deep in thought.

“I told my story, now what’s going on with you (Y/N)?” Kenma questioned, watching her.

“Who keeps texting you?” (Y/N) stayed quiet, not answering him. Kenma opened his mouth to say something before (Y/N)’s phone buzzed again once more. Unlocking her phone, she barely got to read the newest text, before Kenma grabbed her phone out of her hands and read what was on her screen.

His eyes widened, “(Y/N)— these texts—”

“These weren’t the only messages I got,” she muttered. “I just deleted the others when they started coming up.”

Kenma couldn’t believe what he was reading. Why was (Y/N) getting these types of texts? He looked back up at his secretary, whose eyes started to get glassy. She sniffed, before wiping a tear that escaped the corner of her eye. “Guess it’s my turn huh?”

“You already know that I had a previous secretary position somewhere else. I told my friends I quit, but I didn’t exactly say why. You talked about how Yui was great at her job, well I guess I could say that I was the Yui of my company— minus the whole two faced thing— I actually worked hard to move my way up the employment ladder. I got along with my boss who was a sweet old man, just on the edge of retiring. He reminded me of my grandfather, so I was constantly in his office making sure he wasn’t over-working himself.”

Her eyes started to squint, brows furrowing as she recalled the next events that took place afterwards.

“Guess I started watching out for him too much, because rumors started to surface saying that I was sleeping with him so I could become the next CEO. When that was far from what I had wanted. Each time I walked into the room, all conversations quieted down, and hushed whispers followed. They were speaking as if I couldn’t hear them. They kept saying things like, ‘That’s the girl who’s sleeping with the boss’ ‘She thinks she can become CEO by giving herself up like that.’ It started to weigh me down.”

Kenma’s fist clenched at (Y/N)’s words. Those were her coworkers? Kenma guessed that none of them really got to know (Y/N) otherwise they wouldn’t have thought those things.

“I decided to quit once they started harassing me outside of work. I told my boss who wanted to do something about it, but I told him that saying anything would have made things worse. So, I packed up my things when I knew everyone was gone and left that place for good. I still check-up on my old boss from time to time though. I didn’t think that this harassment would start up again. It’s a shame that these people have no lives.”

“Stop that.” (Y/N) looked up at Kenma.

“Huh?”

“Stop doing that,” he glared at her. “You show how you're feeling for a quick second, before hiding them away again. Stop hiding them already.”

“Kenma— I’m fine—”

“No you’re not. You were about to break down in the car, you were shaking when you came into the house and you were tearing up again just now. Don’t say you’re fine when you’re not.”

“I don’t want to become a burden to anyone. They shouldn’t have to deal with my feelings and personal problems.” (Y/N) argued.

“This happened again back when we were at the beach house. When you didn’t tell anyone that you weren’t feeling well because you didn’t want to ruin the fun for everyone else.”

“I can’t help being so self-less.” (Y/N) huffed out. “Would you rather I just stop being self-less, and just not care about anyone else?”

“What— no!” Kenma let out a big sigh. “How can I ask you to stop being self-less when it’s one of the things that made me fall in lo—” Kenma stopped himself before saying anything else.

“Made you what Kenma?” the blonde kept his mouth shut, cursing himself in his head.

Everything started to become much more clear to her now. “So if what I heard was correct, the reason you got drunk…”

“When I saw that gossip account post a picture of Kuroo carrying you, and I got jealous.” Kenma muttered. “Is that what you want to hear?”

“Question is, why did you get jealous, Kenma?” (Y/N) poked at him. “Why did you seeing me in Kuroo’s arms get you that jealous, hm?”

“I’m not saying it.”

“Say it.”

“No.”

“Hm, you’ll say it again eventually.” (Y/N) chuckled. “By the way, I feel the same way”

The Youtuber looked at her, “What?”

“Anyways, now that your secret is out, what do you plan on doing?” (Y/N) smiled at him as she diverted the topic. But before Kenma had the chance to answer,

BAM!

(Y/N) and Kenma both flinched at the sound of the door being slammed open. The two looked up to see both Kuroo and Oikawa standing there. They were both wearing suits as they leaned against the doorframe. “Come on you two,” Oikawa sang. “We managed to get a press conference for Kenma so he could provide his statement and his story on everything that’s happening.”

“Oh yeah, sorry (Y/N) we overheard you telling your past—”

“I can’t believe my poor baby was accused of sleeping her way to the top! Do they have no shame?!” Oikawa interrupted.

“Alright, Mr. Dramatic calm down. (Y/N) you could probably set those ex-coworkers of yours straight considering your picture got taken off, with yours truly. Let’s go fix this mess that you two fell in.”

As Kuroo and Oikawa walked away from the door, Kenma and (Y/N) looked at each other.

“Well, what better way to end both of our problems than to face them head on?”

“Count me in.”

❝ TAGLIST❞

#mhsceo smau #haikyuu smau #kenma kozume x reader #kenma x reader #kenma smau #kozume kenma smau #admin kiri

383 notes · View notes

tchallasbabymama · 3 years

Text

Gone

Hey y’all, here’s Chapter 6 of Playlist. Check out my masterlist HERE to read the other chapters if you haven’t already, and check out my other stories too!

CW: alcoholism

Word count: 4894

Two months had passed and T’Challa was still not taking it well. He was still internalizing the guilt he felt for putting Ashanti in harm's way, and it was all he could think about. He felt numb most days, and when he felt anything at all it was grief over losing his love. Whenever he wasn’t working he hid away in his chambers, staring at the walls and playing sad music. Today his favorite song to wallow to was “Gone” by N*Sync. He laid across his bed sipping from a bottle of whiskey with the song playing on repeat as tears ran down his face.

There's a thousand words that I could say

To make you come home

Oh, seems so long ago you walked away

Left me alone

I remember what you said to me

You were acting so strange

and maybe I was too blind to see

That you needed a change

Was it something I said

To make you turn away?

To make you walk out and leave me cold

If I could just find a way

To make it so that you were right here

But right now..

I've been sitting here

Can't get you off my mind

I've tried my best to be a man and be strong

I've drove myself insane

Wishing I could touch your face

But the truth remains..

You're gone..

Baby you're gone

Girl you're gone, baby girl, you're gone..

You're gone..

You're…

He barely spoke to his family anymore. Not even N’Jadaka could get anything out of him on their occasional walks when he would visit from Oakland. The king was a steel trap of emotions, and nobody could get in. His cousin could tell something was off, and began to worry about his health so he and Shuri decided to confront him about it. They knew it wouldn’t go well, but they never expected him to insult their intelligence.

T’Challa had been able to hide his drinking from Queen Mother, but it was hard to get anything past the other two. N’Jadaka had seen friends go down a similar route and he knew the signs, and Shuri had overheard the kitchen staff talking about sending three bottles a night to the king’s chambers. When he was scheduled to leave for a mission with the Avengers she was scared out of her mind that he would get hurt, so right before he left she and her cousin confronted him. He lied to them, for the first time ever, and straight up denied the accusations. Shuri was hurt to her core knowing her brother was in such a bad way that he would stoop so low, but N’Jadaka expected his response. When he left they saw him off as usual, but Shuri broke down in her cousin’s arms after the Talon took off. Ramonda quickly became worried for both of her children when Shuri told her of the burden she had been carrying for her brother. They both internalized too much, and Ramonda had Shuri start therapy immediately. She also had a grief therapist and an addiction counselor on standby for T'Challa's return. She would be damned if she lost her son to his depression.

The Avengers had also noticed a change in T’Challa’s behavior, so much so that even Sam of all people was concerned for him. Thor had tried to lighten the king’s mood with their usual banter, but nothing changed. Wanda tried to regale him with her physics-defying powers to no avail, and Natasha couldn’t get anything out of him in their sparring sessions. Eventually Steve and Sam took it upon themselves to do something, Steve as a friend and Sam as a former counselor.

“Catman, let me holler at you real quick,” Sam interrupted T’Challa’s brooding on the couch. He rolled his eyes, but reluctantly got up anyway. Sam led him into the kitchen, where Steve was already seated at the large table. Sam pulled out a chair and turned it around before sitting and resting his forearms on the back.

“Ok, talk. You’ve been moping around the entire time you’ve been here and you’re bringing the energy down-”

“I think what Sam is trying to say is that we’re your friends and we can tell something is wrong... come on, man, you really think I haven’t picked up on your new drinking habit?” he asked in all honesty before trying to lighten the mood a little. “You know, for a cat, you’re not that sneaky.”

T’Challa closed his eyes and sighed. He had hoped nobody else would notice before he could get it together. When Shuri and N’Jadaka confronted him before he left he lied to their faces. He had never done that before, and as soon as the words left his mouth he was filled with shame and had to leave quickly to avoid them prying any more into it. When he looked out the window of the Talon after taking off he saw his baby sister break down in tears, and his heart broke. He decided then and there that he would stop drinking, but it didn’t exactly work out that way. Here he was, a month later and still no improvement. He was doing his best to keep it under wraps, but for once his best wasn’t good enough.

“Problems at home?...Is it about Ashanti? I haven't heard you mention her in awhile.” Steve continued, trying to get something out of him.

A lump formed in the king’s throat and he nodded before averting his eyes to the table.

“She left me.”

He proceeded to tell them the whole story and watched their faces twist in disbelief.

“Wow, that’s...wow,” Steve couldn’t believe it and his heart went out to both of them for what they went through and for what T’Challa is putting himself through now. “You know, for the longest time I blamed myself for what happened to Bucky. It ate me up inside, but you gotta let that stuff go, man. If not, you’re gonna start spiraling out of control, and nobody needs that.”

“He’s right, T.”

T’Challa and Steve looked at Sam in shock, he never referred to him by his name or anything close to it. It was always “Catman” or whatever cat joke he could come up with at the moment.

“You need to talk to someone before this gets worse,” Sam said in earnest.

He thought back to his mother’s words shortly before he left Wakanda, “I’m worried about you, unyana wam. You have not been your usual bright self.”

T’Challa sat forward, placing his elbows on the table. He decided then and there that he couldn't keep doing this to himself. He was a king, he was a warrior, he was a superhero for Bast’s sake. He couldn’t afford to be a drunken shell of himself anymore, it was going to start catching up to him. He couldn’t keep blaming himself.

“You’re right.”

-------

After the incident, Ashanti moved back in with her parents so they could care for her. Kwame and Binta were over all the time, and Shuri even made a visit to bring her the new pinky she made for her. It took some getting used to how it felt on her hand, but she eventually got the hang of it.

At first, Ashanti was scared to leave her parents’ home, so they found a therapist that made house-calls. It took some time for Ashanti to trust her, but eventually she did and Jamila was able to convince her to go outside for the first time in two months. They stayed in her parents backyard for a few sessions, before Jamila gradually got her to move further and further from the home. After about 6 months, she was able to go to the bazaar on her own. She still wasn’t up for running Taj’s, so she let her new employees Zina and Jafari handle it. So far they had been doing a great job and she wasn’t too worried about getting back to it just yet. She took some time to find herself again, painting for the first time in almost a year and spinning clay at her pottery wheel whenever she felt the need. She caught up on the books she had been meaning to read, and she slowly got back into the habit of running in the mornings.

Ashanti surprisingly had no problem with moving back into the house with Binta and Kwame. She missed the twins more than she could verbalize, but really did need her time away. Eventually, things went back to normal and it was almost as if the chapter of her life that included T’Challa never happened at all.

After a few months the twins pushed her to get back out there and she started dating a River tribe guy she met on her run one morning. She had tripped over a root and ended up falling flat on her face, but luckily another runner saw her fall and came over to help. He was a hot doctor named Zane. After he checked her ankle, he looked up and was captured by her beauty. He asked her out then and there, and three months later they’re still going strong. He was sweet, and smart, and funny, and all the things she wanted in a partner...but he didn't automatically know her favorite flower, and she didn't feel electricity from his touch. His kisses didn’t ignite a flame, just a little spark. He was a great lover, but the passion wasn’t there.

In short, Ashanti was faking it, but she was too scared to break his poor little heart.

Even her parents and roommates could tell she wasn’t really feeling Zane, so they sat her down to talk some sense into her.

“Why does this look like an intervention?” Ashanti joked when she walked into her kitchen and saw her family seated around the table, all looking up at her.

“Because it is, girl. Sit down.” Kwame pulled out the chair next to him and she tentatively took a seat.

“Sithandwa,” Bisa started , “you know we love you-“

“What’s this about?” she cut her off, nervous and ready to cut to the chase.

“Zane.” Binta and Kwame stated, matter of factly.

Ashanti knew what was coming. Each one of them had pulled her aside at some point to have what was sure to be the exact same conversation.

“Honey, you’re playing with that poor man’s heart. We can all see you don’t want him, he’s the only one who can’t.” Kwame reached out and grabbed her hand in his.

Ashanti sucked her teeth and rolled her eyes. She hated being called out on her bullshit, especially since it didn't happen often. She knew they were right though, she was wrong for stringing him along.

“He’s a good man, I know, but you both deserve to be with people who want you the way you want them,” Bisa added,

“I know,” Ashanti let out a sigh before hanging her head and collecting herself. “I know, I just- he’s a great guy so I just keep hoping he’ll grow on me. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

Everyone seemed to look at each other out of the corners of their eyes without Ashanti noticing. They knew exactly what the problem was.

“Nothing is wrong with you, intyatyambo. You are just still in love,” Chidi cupped her face with his hand and she stared at him in shock.

“No, it’s been over a year. I’m past that now,” she tried to dead the conversation before it went somewhere she really wanted to avoid.

“Are you?” Binta asked. “Because everytime you see his hologram on the news you smile a little without even realizing it.”

“And don't forget when you ducked into a random bathroom and texted me panicking because you saw Dora Milaje in the bazaar and thought he might be there.” Kwame added.

“I-I just didn’t want to see him, that’s all.”

“Mhm, then how come when I called you were you primping in the mirror?”

“I was not!”

“Sis…” he gave her the look.

Ashanti hung her head again.

“Fine,” she gave in. She knew why she wasn’t feeling Zane and why her palms still started to sweat when she saw pictures or holograms of him and why her heart almost beat out of her chest that day in the bazaar. She still dreamed of him. Her body still responded to the thought of him. Hearing his voice still sent chills down her spine. She still loved him, but she never wanted to admit it.

“Fine?” Chidi asked as he and his wife shared a hopeful glance.

“Yes, fine, you’re right. Happy?” tears came to her eyes, and as hard as she tried to keep them from falling she eventually lost the battle. She hadn’t allowed herself to feel the loss after the breakup, and it was all catching up to her right there in front of her family.

She sobbed on Bisa's shoulder and Chidi wrapped them both in an embrace while Binta rubbed circles on Ashanti’s back and Kwame held her hand. All four of them were relieved to see her finally come to terms with her emotions. They had been concerned that she seemingly blocked out that whole chapter of her life, not sure if it was due to the trauma or the heartbreak or both. Her time in therapy had focused on getting her through the trauma of what happened to her, and barely even touched her breakup. All she had done was lock her feelings in the basement and throw away the key, but they were still there and just as strong as ever.

After a few minutes Ashanti pulled herself together and looked at the people around her.

“I love you all so much,” she was able to get out through her tears and snot. Chidi grabbed some tissue and wiped her face.

“We love you too,” they all responded.

_______

After that day, Ashanti found herself thinking about T’Challa a little more than usual...ok a lot more than usual. Everything she saw reminded her of him, and it was starting to weigh on her. She still felt the same way about being with him, but she missed him more than she could say. Eventually she got the idea to give him a call. She talked herself out of and back into the idea for several weeks, and one day just said “Fuck it” and pressed his contact on her beads. She never got around to deleting it.

The trilling sound that followed filled her with dread. What if he didn’t pick up? What if she’s blocked or he changed his beads?

She didn’t have time to go too far down that rabbit hole because the trilling stopped and her ex boyfriend appeared in the palm of her hand. They both stared at each other in silence before T’Challa spoke.

“Miss Ashanti, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

She was saddened by his formality but stunned by the smoky timbre of his voice. She had missed it so much.

“H-hi, how are you?”

“I am well, how are you?”

“I’m doing ok.”

“Just ok?”

“Yeah, just ok…” Ashanti trailed off, leading to a long silence between the two.

“Ashanti, is there something you need?”

“Oh, um, no not really. I just-,” she sighed, “You crossed my mind a couple times and something told me to reach out so I did.”

A small smile appeared on the king’s face.

“Just a couple times? I’m disappointed.”

She laughed, a sound he hadn’t had the pleasure of hearing in over a year, forcing his crooked smile to grow larger.

“Ok maybe a few times,” she said, while smiling back.

“But seriously,” her voice softened, “how are you T’Challa?”

The hairs on the back of his neck stood up when she said his name, but he wasn’t surprised she still had that effect on him since it happened every time he thought of her. He wanted to answer her honestly, he really did, but he couldn't bring himself to tell her about his drinking problem and stint in rehab a few months ago. He went back and forth on the decision for a few moments before making up his mind.

“I am well now, it has been an uphill battle.”

“I know what you mean,” Ashanti replied before they both just stared at each other in silence for a moment. “Well, I um, I know you're busy, and I didn’t really want anything so I don’t want to keep y-”

“We’re going to be late, baby,” Ashanti was cut off by a gorgeous woman in a red dress entering the room behind T’Challa. She hadn’t even noticed that he was talking to anyone, barely looking up from her beads as she walked back out of the room. T’Challa cleared his throat.

“Unfortunately you caught me at a bad time, tonight-”

“That’s ok! Uh, have fun!” she panicked and ended the call.

“Why would you just hang up like that?” she asked herself out loud before flopping back onto her bed.

After that embarrassment, she doesn't know if she’ll ever be able to talk to him again. Of all the different ways she imagined that conversation going she never accounted for the fact that he could have already moved on to someone else. She knew it was selfish and hypocritical since she had been with Zane, but something about the idea of him with anyone else made her blood boil and tears come to her eyes. She let a couple fall before getting up and going on about her day.

Late that night as she laid in bed scrolling through her social media she came across an article about the king’s 30th birthday celebration on the 9th. It was open to the public, and for a moment she considered going, but then she remembered the silky, high pitched voice emanating from behind T’Challa and decided against it. She’d rather not have to feel that embarrassment in public. Ashanti shut off her beads and closed her eyes, letting sleep take her for the night.

-------

The drummers were extra hype today, playing their hearts out as all of Wakanda danced and celebrated their king’s birthday. As they partied into the early morning T’Challa spent the whole time glued to his girlfriend Tamala, the Mining tribe princess. She had a habit of being clingy and wouldn’t allow anyone else to steal a dance. Around 1 in the morning, he had finally had enough and excused himself to go to the restroom. Making his way out of the venue, he caught the eye of someone he hadn’t seen in a long time.

“Kwame?”

“My king,” he saluted T’Challa, but he waved him off.

“Please, you know me.”

“Better safe than sorry. Happy birthday man!”

“Thank you, thank you. Are you here alone?” T’Challa’s eyes scanned the crowd.

“No, I'm here with the usual people,” Kwame said, smirking in the king’s direction.

“So Ashanti is…”

“Over in the back corner avoiding you and the aggressive supermodel on your arm,” he took a sip of his rum punch.

“I can understand that,” the king and Kwame stood there awkwardly, not knowing how to continue the conversation. “It was good seeing you Kwame.”

“You too!”

The two quickly parted ways and Kwame ran straight to his friends at the table they had commandeered in the back. He sat down on Omar’s lap and told Ashanti of his interaction with the king, leaving out that he told him where to find her. Ashanti noticed Omar’s hands make their way around Kwame’s waist and she wished she could feel the king’s arms around her like that one more time.

“I knew I shouldn't have come here, why did I let you two talk me into this? He has a girlfriend already.”

“Because your man knows how to throw a damn party!” Binta slurred a little, very obviously teetering between tipsy and drunk. Ashanti rolled her eyes at her ‘your man’ comment but agreed, looking around at all the happy partygoers. She sighed, wishing she could enjoy herself like they were.

On his way to the restroom T’Challa was stopped by not one, not two, but three separate elders commenting on how good he and Tamala looked together and asking about marriage plans. T’Challa knew the council was anxious for him to get married and produce heirs, but no matter how much he wanted to, he just couldn’t see it with Tamala. She had everything he was looking for, but she was missing a special something. More like she’s not that special someone. She’s not her.

For the rest of the night, T’Challa avoided the elders and slyly kept his eye on Ashanti and her friends. He was mesmerized by her colorful curve-hugging jumpsuit and her natural hair that had grown much longer in the year they’d been apart. Her shoulders seemed to glow and her deep purple lipstick drew his eyes to her lips. His eyes travelled down her body, noticing that she had kicked off her shoes and he smiled fondly, remembering her disdain for heels. She looked up and caught him staring more than once, but he just couldn't stop. Everytime she caught him she’d quickly look away, too embarrassed to hold his gaze. His staring angered Tamala who also caught him staring more than once.

“Do you know her?” Tamala asked with an attitude, standing in his line of vision. T’Challa rolled his eyes because he sensed another argument coming. Tamala was a lot of wonderful things, but jealousy was her worst quality, hands down. He had never been one to have a wandering eye when he was with a woman, so normally her jealousy annoyed him to no end. However, this time he understood where she was coming from.

“Yes, I do. She’s an old friend.”

“A ‘friend’ huh? Do you think I’m stupid?”

“Tamala, please, not here. This is a celebration, try to be happy. For me, please.”

The Mining tribe princess rolled her eyes and stormed off, shoulder checking Prince N’Jadaka on the way.

“Yo, me and your girl are gonna fight fight one of these days. Like, for real,” he said as he walked up to his cousin.

T’Challa chuckled as he sipped some more of his non-alcoholic ginger beer.

“Let's go for a walk in the gardens,” he requested and the prince obliged. N’Jadaka pulled out a pre-roll and lit the tip, passing it to his cousin. “She’s upset because Ashanti is here.”

“Oh! She is, huh? Interesting...I’m surprised she showed.”

“I’m not,” he handed the blunt back to the prince, “she called me the other day. It was a very short conversation but...I still felt something and I think she did too. She looks good, really good. She asked how I had been but I couldn't really tell her the truth... She seems like she’s gotten so much better since the last time I saw her.”

The two walked in silence for a couple minutes passing the blunt back and forth before N’Jadaka broke the silence.

“So you still love her?”

T’Challa didn’t even have to hesitate.

“Of course, I never stopped.”

---------

The next day, Ashanti and her roommates were all laying in the living room nursing hangovers while they half watched an old classic Wakandan movie. Ashanti was sick to her stomach, but she couldn't tell if it was from the alcohol or the sappy love story she was forced to watch. After it was over, Binta pulled up the news and right as the meteorologist finished explaining the upcoming weather patterns, a huge picture of T’Challa and Tamala kissing took over the screen. Bile rose in her stomach as Binta scrambled to change the channel. Before she could, Ashanti heard the anchor say the very words she dreaded hearing, “Could there be a royal engagement on the horizon?”

Binta turned the hologram off altogether, and the three of them sat in silence for a while until Kwame couldn’t take it anymore.

“Are you ok?”

“I will be, it’s just rough right now. I’m happy he found somebody though, they look happy.”

Neither twin wanted to pry so they left it at that and changed the subject to food.

“I’m hungry, but I don’t feel like cooking.” Binta said in a huff, throwing herself back into the couch..

“Mood,” Kwame and Ashanti replied.

“Ooh how about I grab some food from my parents? They’ve been wanting me to stop by,” Ashanti offered.

“Bast bless you, my child.” Binta grabbed her hand and kissed it.

Ashanti threw her shoes on and was out the door in no time flat. She needed to get out of the house and clear her head. They looked so happy…

She was on autopilot when she reached the restaurant, barely even shooting a glance towards Taj’s before immediately heading back home. Chidi and Bisa could tell there was something bothering her, but chose not to pry.

Almost a week passed by with her being forced to see the new “it” couple everywhere she turned. It was starting to get to her so she called Jamila for a session, which turned into Ashanti seeing her on the regular. After a couple more months she no longer felt weighed down by her seemingly unrequited feelings for T’Challa and was genuinely ready to move on. She even downloaded a dating app on her beads and started meeting new people. Nothing really came of it, but she enjoyed herself nonetheless. Ashanti threw herself back into work, mostly focusing on her commissions while her employees handled Taj’s. Princess Shuri had spread the word about the artist after she received her necklace and since then Ashanti’s business had been booming. Everybody from farmers to nobility was knocking down her door for a custom piece. She even made a necklace for Shani, Chieftess of the Jabari. thAll was going well in Ashanti’s life and her therapy sessions were working, so when she saw the news of the royal engagement she allowed the grief to wash over her before shaking it off and going on about her day. On the other side of Birnin Zana, King T’Challa sighed as he watched the media coverage. He knew she was out there somewhere having to see it and he pushed back against the feeling of guilt that often tried to overcome him. He had to do it, though. He had been pushing the council to allow immigration into Wakanda and they just wouldn’t budge, just like he hadn’t budged on the issue of betrothal. It wasn’t until he announced to them that he had plans to marry Tamala that the council started to see things his way. This way everybody would be happy. He would be able to open up Wakanda more to the Lost Tribe, and they would have a queen and hopefully, soon after, an heir to the throne. A week later the news leaked to the press somehow and it quickly became all anyone could talk about.

During his weekly visits to the Merchant tribe T’Challa tended to avoid the Bazaar for fear of running into Ashanti, but this time he decided to venture in. People greeted him as he walked through, perusing the merchandise, and stopping periodically to chat. This is why he loved coming there, everyone was always so cheerful and bright. He had crouched down to talk to a nine year old girl who wanted his attention, and on his way back up he saw a woman in a purple headwrap walking out of a storefront, going in the opposite direction. He would’ve recognized that walk anywhere. T’Challa wanted to call out to her, but didn’t want to embarrass her or start a scandal. He watched her turn the corner and disappear from his sight. The king said goodbye to the little girl and her baba before heading off in the same direction she went, almost leaving his Doras in the dust. When he rounded the corner he stopped abruptly at the absolute vision staring right back at him. She was in shock, obviously not expecting to run into her newly engaged ex.

“T’Challa, h-hi.”

“Hi,” he said back, wanting to kick himself for not being more articulate.

“Um, congratulations on your engagement. I saw the news, well, everywhere.”

“Oh, uh, Thank you.”

“What brings you down here?”

“Just my usual weekly rounds.”

“Oh yeah, I remember those.” She smiled at the memory and his heart thumped a little louder in his chest at the sight. “You always looked forward to Mondays just for that…”

“I still do.”

They both awkwardly stood there, neither one of them saying what’s on their mind.

“Well, I uh, I have to go open up the store. I’ll see you around T’Challa.”

There was so much that he wanted to say, but he just couldn’t get it out. Being in her presence again after so long had him freezing up, something he never did.

She saluted him and winked before turning around and heading towards Taj’s. He couldn’t help but watch her hips twitch as she walked away and something told him she knew he was watching. She did.

Next Chapter

Taglist:

@maddeningmayhem, @theblulife

#cecewritessometimes #black panther fic #t'challa x oc #t'challa #playlist #black!oc

53 notes · View notes