How about Gachiakuta boys take reader get wisdom teeth removed but once the doctor finish the anesthesia didn’t wear off yet!! And reader shows all types of emotions (happy,mad,sad!!) to the guys!! (Even saying like “ur girlfriend is very lucky” (even tho reader is their girlfriend!))
𝐠𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐭𝐚 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐚 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐝𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝!
⤷ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬.ᐟ- the boys decided to go with you to get your wisdom teeth removed, just in case. but when it was over, you were still under anesthesia, which made you switch through a bunch of different moods. they took care of you the whole time while you were still loopy, staying with you until the anesthesia finally wore off!
⤷ 𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠.ᐟ- rudo ৴ enjin ৴ tamsy ৴ zanka ৴ august ৴ gris ৴ follo ৴ zodyl ৴ jabber
rudo woke you up early that morning, knocking lightly on your door even though he could’ve just barged in like he usually did. he knew you were nervous, and he wasn’t trying to make it worse.
“hey… we gotta go,” he murmured, voice low and gentle. “i’m coming with you the whole time.”
you nodded, trying not to think about what was coming. rudo didn’t say much on the way to the clinic, but he stayed close, hands tucked in his pockets, watching you from the corner of his eye. every time you fidgeted, he’d nudge your shoulder like, i’m here. relax.
when it was finally time, you laid back in the chair while the nurse placed the mask on your face. “i’ll be right outside,” rudo said, touching your hand awkwardly. “i’m not going anywhere.”
you believed him.
and he kept that promise.
but when you woke up… oh boy
the doctor wheeled you out after the procedure, and rudo instantly stood up so fast he knocked into a chair. “is she okay?” he asked, stepping closer. “she’s totally fine,” the doctor smiled. “anesthesia just hasn’t worn off yet.”
and oh, rudo realized quickly that you were very, very not normal right now.
the moment your eyes landed on rudo, they lit up like he was the sun itself.
“RUUUUDOOO!!” you reached out your arms as if you were about to launch at him. he froze, cheeks turning pink. “what— why are you yelling?”
“because you’re sooo pretty,” you slurred dramatically. “my boyfriend is sooo handsome. are you my boyfriend? or am i dreaming you? you can’t be real.”
“…i’m real,” he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. “let’s just… get you up.” but when he helped you stand, you grabbed his face between your hands and whispered loudly:
“your girlfriend… she’s sooo lucky.” rudo blinked, jaw tensing. “…you. that’s you. you’re my girlfriend.” you gasped so loudly another patient turned to look.
“NO WAY. I GET YOU?!” you practically squealed. “i won the prize?!”
rudo had to bite his lip to keep from laughing. “yeah. now we’re leaving before you start yelling that again.”
you were fine… until the fresh air hit your face. then you suddenly stopped walking, eyes wide with betrayal. “rudo,” you whispered, voice trembling, “how could you.”
he stiffened. “what now?” “you let them… steal my teeth.” he stared at you. “…they didn’t steal them.”
“THEY TOOK THEM RIGHT OUT OF MY MOUTH,” you yelled, pointing dramatically back at the clinic. “those were my TEETH, rudo. MY WISDOM. and you just LET THEM.”
you hit his shoulder, but it was so weak he barely felt it. “i want them back,” you demanded. “you’re not getting them back,” he said, guiding you toward the car.
“rudo surebrec,” you hissed like a villain, “you have betrayed me.”
his eye twitched. “you’re being ridiculous.” “give. me. my. teeth.”
“no.” you gasped like he’d stabbed you. “heartless.”
rudo finally got you in the car, buckled you in because you kept trying to grab the seatbelt like it was a snake, and shut the door with a sigh. when he climbed into the driver’s seat, he found you staring at the floor, lip trembling.
“…what now?” he asked carefully. “do you still want me?” you whispered.
his whole body tensed. “what the hell are you talking about?” “my wisdom is gone,” you sniffed. “they took it. so now i’m dumb. do you still want a dumb girlfriend?” rudo’s eyes widened, and he immediately leaned over, cupping your face gently.
“hey,” he said firmly, “you’re not dumb.” “but my wisdom teeth—” “don’t make you wise,” he cut in. “you’re still you. i still want you.” you sniffed again. “promise?” he rolled his eyes but the corner of his mouth lifted. “yeah. i promise.”
you smiled sleepily… and then burst into tears again. rudo groaned softly, tilting his head back. “this is gonna be the longest day of my life.”
but even then, he reached over, wiped your tears, and tucked a blanket around you. because no matter how chaotic you were, he was still rudo.
and he was still staying right beside you.
enjin didn’t even let you finish talking when you mentioned your wisdom teeth appointment. you were only halfway through explaining when he looked up and said, completely flat and serious, “i’m going with you.”
you stared at him. “you don’t have to—”
“i’m not asking,” he cut in, sliding the blade back into place. “you’re not going alone. you’re gonna freak out the second they put the mask on you.”
“i won’t freak out,” you argued. he raised an eyebrow. “you cry when your food gets cold.”
“it was last week,” he reminded, already grabbing his jacket. “get your shoes. we’re leaving.” on the way to the clinic, he walked slightly in front of you, not holding your hand but constantly glancing back to make sure you hadn’t wandered off or chickened out. whenever your fingers started trembling, he flicked your forehead lightly.
“stop thinking,” he ordered. “you’re not helping.” “i’m not trying to help.” he smirked faintly. “i’m trying to distract you.”
inside the clinic, he sat with his arms crossed during check-in, glaring at everyone who got too close to you like he suspected they had ulterior motives. when the nurse finally called you in, he followed until she physically blocked him from entering the room.
“sir, you can’t be in here during the procedure.”
“why?” he demanded. “because it’s a sterile environment.”
“i’m cleaner than half the people in this building.” he pointed at a random man eating chips in the waiting room.
the nurse firmly pushed him out and shut the door in his face. he stood there for a full ten seconds, staring at the closed door with an offended expression before sighing and sitting down with a heavy flop, muttering to himself, “whatever. they better not mess anything up.”
he waited, tapping his foot, arms folded, jaw tight. he didn’t read, didn’t look at his phone—just kept flicking his eyes toward the hallway every five seconds. the second he heard the wheels of the chair coming, he stood so quickly the chair behind him scraped loudly.
“is she okay?” he asked immediately, stepping up before the doctor could even finish turning the corner. “she’s fine,” the doctor answered with a smile. “the anesthesia hasn’t worn off yet, so she might be a little—”
enjin stopped listening the moment you lifted your head and spotted him. your eyes went wide, sparkling like you were seeing a celebrity.
“ENJINNN!!!” you yelled, arms flinging out toward him as if you were reaching for salvation. he froze. “…why are you yelling.” you grabbed his jacket like he was your long-lost soulmate and pulled him down toward your face.
“you’re soooo handsome,” you slurred loudly. “my boyfriend is the prettiest boy ever.” he blinked. hard. “okay. let go.”
“your girlfriend is soooo lucky,” you continued dramatically, pressing your cheek to his chest. “you’re the girlfriend,” he said flatly. your eyes widened with the force of a revelation. “i am?! HOLY CRAP THAT’S AWESOME.”
someone laughed in the waiting room. enjin glared so sharply they choked on their spit and looked away instantly. he scooped you up under the knees and lifted you before you could start another loud speech. “we’re leaving. before you start calling me pretty again.” his voice was gruff, but his grip around you was steady.
you rested your head on his shoulder, humming happily. but the second you both stepped outside, your mood suddenly switched. you stopped moving, your expression slowly morphing into pure betrayal.
“enjin…” your voice dropped into dangerous territory. “…what now.” “you… let them… steal my TEETH.”
“they didn’t steal them,” he answered bluntly. “you needed them gone. they were crooked.” “THEY WERE MINE.” you jabbed your finger at his chest. “you LET them take my wisdom.”
“you didn’t have any wisdom before the teeth,” he muttered. you gasped like he stabbed you. “take me back. i want them. now.”
“they threw them out already.” “YOU LET THEM THROW OUT MY CHILDREN?!” “they were literally rotting,” he said, not even blinking. “ENJINNNN!!!” you cried, hitting his arm with the force of a limp noodle. he sighed deeply. “if you don’t walk, i’m carrying you like a sack again.”
“you’re so mean,” you sniffed. “i know.” he picked you up again anyway.
once he got you in the car and buckled you in—because you kept poking the seatbelt like it was alive—he handed you a bottle of water.
“drink.” you pouted. “no.” “drink it or i’m pouring it over your face.” you took a sip instantly.
you stared at him for a few seconds with wobbly lips before whispering, “enjin… do you even love me anymore?” his head snapped around so fast you startled yourself. “…what?” he asked, his usual sharpness cracking.
“they took my wisdom,” you said, tears forming. “now i’m dumb. you don’t want a dumb girlfriend…” he leaned in close, one hand cupping your jaw gently but firmly. “you’re not dumb,” he said in a low, steady voice. “you’re drugged. and you’re talking nonsense.” “but—”
“listen.” he brushed your hair back behind your ear, pretending not to care about the way you leaned into his touch. “i wouldn’t spend my whole day here for someone i didn’t love.”
your tears spilled instantly. “so you do love me?” he shut his eyes for a second, like he was preparing himself. “yes. i love you. happy?”
“promise?” “yes. i promise.” you sniffled, suddenly smiling. “your girlfriend is soooo lucky.”
he let his head fall against the steering wheel for a second. “you’re the girlfriend. i swear, if you say that one more time—” “that’s SO COOL,” you whispered, absolutely amazed.
enjin started the car with a long, exhausted groan. “this is gonna be hell. absolute hell.” but even as he said it, he kept one hand on the wheel and the other resting over your knee so you wouldn’t feel alone.
because yeah—maybe he was blunt, bold, tough, and sometimes a pain.
but he stayed.
he always stayed.
tamsy had always worn his gentle mask well. calm voice, polite smile, helpful hands — everyone saw him as the reliable cleaner who never raised his voice and always kept a cool head. he moved like a breeze, talked like a soft lullaby. but underneath that smooth exterior was something sharper, something calculated. tamsy liked control — he liked knowing things others didn’t, liked staying one step ahead, liked keeping you close under the guise of caring.
so when he heard you were getting your wisdom teeth removed, he didn’t even ask. he just appeared at your side that morning with a warm smile and a quiet, “i’ll come with you. you’ll need someone you can rely on.” and of course, who would turn down calm, composed tamsy?
the truth was he didn’t want anyone else taking care of you while you were vulnerable. he wanted to be the one you reached for. the one you trusted. he liked the idea of being the only voice you listened to while you were half-conscious.
the clinic was cold, the kind of cold that made your fingers twitch. you were nervous, fidgeting with your sleeves, and tamsy placed a gentle hand over yours — gentle enough to feel reassuring, firm enough to keep you still.
“you’re fine,” he whispered, thumb brushing a slow circle on your palm. “i’ll be here the whole time.”
his tone soothed you, but there was something in the way he looked at the doctor — a quiet, sharp warning, a silent message that said: don’t mess up.
they guided you back, gave you the anesthesia, and the world dipped into softness.
when you woke up, everything felt fuzzy. your mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton, your hands numb, your thoughts floating in little clouds. the anesthesia definitely had not worn off. your emotions came in big waves, crashing one after another.
tamsy leaned forward in the chair beside your bed, elbows on his knees, watching every twitch of your face. he looked calm. too calm. calm in a way that hinted he was enjoying every second of this.
“hey,” he said softly, like he was talking to a startled kitten, “how’re you feeling?” you blinked once… twice…
“tamsyyyyy,” you sobbed, grabbing his sleeve like your life depended on it, “it hurts. my soul hurts. my teeth hurt. my everything hurts.” his brows lifted, and for a split second he looked amused before smoothing it over.
“i know, i know,” he murmured, patting your head in slow strokes. “i told you i’d stay with you. see? i’m right here.” you clung to him and wailed louder, and tamsy quietly adjusted his position so you were basically curled into him. he didn’t look bothered — he almost looked pleased with how tightly you held onto him.
but then—
your mood flipped.
your tears stopped instantly, replaced with a bright, dreamy smile. “wow,” you said suddenly, staring at him like you’d never seen him before, “you’re so handsome… like… crazy handsome.” tamsy blinked, caught off guard. “am i?”
“yeah,” you giggled, kicking your feet, “your girlfriend is soooo lucky.” he froze. then narrowed his eyes just slightly. “my girlfriend?” he repeated, voice still soft, but with an edge hidden beneath. “you mean… you?”
you gasped dramatically. “me?? noooo, i wish! she must be, like—” you looked around with exaggerated shock, “the luckiest girl ever. you’re like… so calm and pretty and nice. she must be obsessed with you.” he stared at you. deadpan. then he exhaled slowly through his nose.
“you’re unbelievable,” he muttered under his breath, leaning back with a smile that looked gentle but felt a little too sharp.
then suddenly — your mood snapped again. you squinted at him with pure suspicion.
“wait… wait… why are you here? did you steal me? am i stolen?” tamsy pinched the bridge of his nose. “no. i didn’t steal you.” “that’s exactly what a thief would say.”
he cracked — a tiny laugh escaped him, the real kind, the kind he almost never let slip. “you’re going to be exhausting today, aren’t you?” you puffed your cheeks. “you don’t love me anymore.”
“i literally just drove you here,” he replied, still smiling, “and you told me i had a girlfriend who isn’t you.” you paused… stared… then whispered in horror, hands covering your mouth: “i’m the girlfriend.”
“yes,” he said flatly, “you are.”
and you lit up like a star.
you grabbed his face with both hands, smushing his cheeks. “i’m your girlfriend,” you repeated proudly, like you just solved a complicated puzzle. tamsy let you squish his face — mostly because you were too weak to stop anyway — but he leaned in close, eyes half-lidded, whispering:
“just remember that when you’re not drugged, too.” your blush nearly burned your face off. then your emotion flipped again and you suddenly gasped, panicked. “tamsy— tamsy i think one of my teeth fell out.” “yes,” he said gently, “that was the entire point of the surgery.” you gasped louder. “WHY WOULD THEY DO THAT?”
“because you signed the papers.”
“YOU SIGNED THEM FOR ME!”
“you told me to.” “i don’t remember that!”
you fell into his arms again, dramatically sobbing, while tamsy held you with that same peaceful expression — though his eyes glittered with something darker, something secretly entertained.
and when the nurse said you were ready to leave, you gripped his hand like a lifeline. “don’t let anyone else take care of me,” you mumbled. he leaned down, brushing your cheek with his thumb, his voice low and silky:
“i wouldn’t let anyone else touch you even if you begged.”
he carried you out, calm and gentle as ever on the outside — but deeply pleased on the inside that you depended on him, even in your delirium.
zanka arrived at your place that morning like he always did — quiet, composed, polite. every step he took was measured, every gesture controlled, every word soft and reassuring. “i’ll go with you,” he said simply, voice low and smooth, almost like he was stating a fact. you nodded immediately, feeling relief.
his presence always made everything seem manageable, and right now, you desperately needed that.
what you didn’t know, what no one could see, was the storm brewing beneath that calm exterior. zanka’s hands itched with tension, his jaw tightened just slightly with a barely noticeable tremor, his pulse thrummed with a quiet energy that demanded control.
he hated chaos, hated uncertainty, hated the thought of you being uncomfortable or scared — and yet, the very unpredictability of you made him feel alive in a way he rarely admitted, even to himself.
the drive to the clinic was silent, save for his occasional soft, soothing words. “you’ll be fine,” he said once, keeping his eyes on the road. “i’m right here.” you leaned back in the seat, grateful for the calm, polite presence, unaware of how the slightest movement, the tiniest twitch of your hands, made his pulse spike with both irritation and exhilaration.
a honk from another car made his grip on the wheel tighten for just a moment, and his breath hitched — but to you, he appeared perfectly serene, composed, unshakable.
at the clinic, he walked beside you with that same calm poise. he answered the nurse’s questions politely, asked precise, measured questions that made you feel reassured, while simultaneously scanning the room, noting every detail, every potential disruption.
he maintained a smooth, pleasant tone, but his mind was alive with tension — imagining every scenario, every thing that could go wrong, every chaotic reaction you might have once the anesthesia hit.
when it was time for the procedure, he knelt slightly to meet your eyes. “don’t worry,” he said, calm and polite. “i’ll be right outside when you wake up. you’ll be fine.” his thumb brushed yours gently, reassuring, tender, yet controlled — a calculated touch to anchor you while he prepared to handle everything. beneath the calm, though, his chest thrummed with excitement and barely restrained frustration at the thought of the upcoming chaos.
and chaos came. the moment you woke, the world was fuzzy, your thoughts muddled, your emotions swinging wildly. the first thing you saw was zanka, sitting calmly in the chair beside you, polite, composed, hands folded neatly, smiling like nothing in the world could bother him.
“hey,” he said softly, “you’re awake.”
you blinked, then squealed, “z-zanka!!” and immediately flung your arms around him. he froze for just a second, jaw tightening, eyes flickering with suppressed tension. your energy, erratic and overwhelming, sparked a thrill in him — a pulse of anger at the chaos and excitement at how unpredictable you were. he could feel himself gripping his chair slightly, a quiet fire burning inside, yet he kept his composure, allowing you to cling to him.
“it hurts… my mouth… everything…” you sobbed, your voice high and dramatic. he held you gently, smoothing your hair back, murmuring in calm, measured tones, “i know… it’s okay… breathe… i’ve got you.” every word was soothing, but the intensity beneath his calm — the anger at the messy, uncontrolled world around you and the excitement of guiding you through it — thrummed in his chest, restrained by sheer will.
then your mood flipped. suddenly you were giggling, happy, reaching for him with dreamy eyes. “wow… you’re so… so handsome,” you slurred, “your girlfriend is soooo lucky.”
he blinked, half-amused, half-irritated, fighting the surge of energy that made him want to scold you for being so loud, for being so unpredictable. he managed a polite smile, voice smooth and calm. “you are safe,” he said. “and perhaps she is.” beneath that serene tone, his pulse raced, his mind alive with exhilaration at having your attention so completely, at the power in his ability to soothe and control the chaos you were radiating.
and then you panicked. “wait… wait… did they steal my teeth?!” “no,” he said politely, almost too calmly. “they removed them as needed.”
“BUT THEY’RE MINE! I WANT THEM BACK!”
his jaw clenched, a faint flicker of teeth visible behind his calm expression, pulse quickening. yet his tone never faltered. “they were necessary,” he said evenly. “you are fine. trust me.” the subtle undercurrent of tension, the slight edge in his voice, betrayed the intensity behind the exterior, the storm barely restrained, burning under his polite mask.
you continued to swing wildly between emotions — laughing, crying, whining, accusing him of theft, calling him names — and every surge of your chaotic energy sent his pulse racing, made his hands clench and unclench, made him feel the thrill of navigating the unpredictable while maintaining his calm. he leaned forward slightly, brushing your hair behind your ear, soft words anchoring you while the storm inside him crackled with every twist of your mood.
“i’m your girlfriend,” you whispered finally, exhausted, slumping against him.
he held you, calm, composed, polite, voice steady. “yes,” he said. “you are.” but inside, the thrill of the chaos you had just put him through still burned, excitement and anger warring beneath his serene exterior, and he smiled faintly to himself at how much power he had in guiding you, protecting you, and keeping the world in order while it spun wildly around the two of you.
when he helped you to the car, his calm, polite hands steadying you, his serene voice guiding you, the storm inside never ceased. every twitch of your fingers, every hiccup of laughter or sob of sadness sent shivers of excitement through him, a fire he hid perfectly behind his composed mask. and you, blissfully unaware, trusted him completely.
zanka drove on, calm, collected, polite — but every inch of him alive with intensity, anger, and exhilaration restrained behind a serene, unshakable mask. and he loved it.
august showed up at your door that morning like a hurricane of energy. his footsteps pounded against the floor, his voice boomed, and his grin was so wide it practically split his face. “alright! big day! wisdom teeth removal! are you ready for this adventure, my girl?!” he shouted before you could even answer, making you groan and cover your face.
“august… i’m nervous…” you mumbled, clutching your bag.
he crouched down to your level, eyes sparkling with mischief and excitement. “nervous? nah! it’s gonna be fine! i’m going with you, so no scary stuff happens. got it?” he grabbed your hand, squeezing it like it was a lifeline. “and if anything goes wrong, i’ll yell, cry, and probably punch someone. together, we got this!”
you couldn’t help but smile weakly. his energy was overwhelming, but oddly comforting. he dragged you to the car, still talking a mile a minute. “ohhh man, ohhh man! you’re gonna wake up all loopy, and i swear if you start crying, i’ll cry too, okay? maybe even scream a little! deal?”
“wait… you’re going to cry?” you asked, blinking in disbelief. “of course!” he exclaimed, jumping a little in place. “we’re in this together, always. crying, laughing, whining… it’s a team effort!”
at the clinic, august’s energy didn’t subside. he loudly charmed the nurses, made ridiculous faces to make you laugh, and kept whispering dramatic pep talks. “don’t worry, babe, i’m right here. if they try to do anything weird, i’ll glare, i’ll yell, i’ll probably cry a little, but mostly i’ll protect you, got it?”
when it was time for anesthesia, he held your hand firmly, giving it a little squeeze. “breathe in… breathe out… and remember, no matter what happens, i’m staying right here. if you wake up confused, scared, or emotional, i’ll be right here yelling, laughing, and crying with you.”
then everything went fuzzy. the anesthesia hit, and your emotions went haywire. when you woke up, the first thing you saw was august’s enormous, grinning face.
“ohhhh! there you are! hey hey hey! did you miss me?!” he shouted, voice echoing in the room.
“au… august…” you slurred, waving your arms helplessly.
he froze for a moment, wide-eyed, then suddenly leaned in and hugged you with dramatic force. “it’s okay, it’s okay! i’m right here! i’m right here! everything’s fine!” and true to his word, he started sniffling loudly, tears welling in his own eyes because he couldn’t handle seeing you like this.
your emotions spiraled even more. you swung between laughing hysterically and sobbing uncontrollably. “au… you’re… so… handsome!” you exclaimed, pressing your face to his chest.
august laughed through his own tears. “i know, i know! my girl knows the truth! yes, yes! i’m handsome!” he hiccuped dramatically, wiping his face on his sleeve.
“your… girlfriend… is so… lucky…” you murmured, voice hiccupping between sobs and laughter. he blinked, then bellowed through a sniffle, “WHAT?! MY GIRLFRIEND?! she is lucky? you mean… you’re my girl?!”
you gasped like it was a revelation. “ME?! yeah! she’s sooo lucky!” you giggled and sobbed at the same time, arms flailing, kicking your legs.
he clutched you tighter, leaning back in the chair, tears streaming down his cheeks. “i… i can’t even… my girl… my girl is lucky? nonsense! i’m the lucky one! we’re both lucky!” he laughed, cried, and practically shouted all at once.
then your mood swung again. suddenly you were mad. “you… you let them take my teeth!” you accused, pointing a shaky finger.
august gasped dramatically, covering his mouth. “HOW DARE THEY?! that’s MY girl’s teeth! i… i’ll fight them… i’ll scream… i’ll—ohhhh we’ll get through this together, don’t worry!” he sobbed and waved his arms like he was going to challenge the entire clinic.
then you flipped to sad again, sniffing and curling into him. “i… i hate this…”
“nooo, don’t hate it! i hate it too! we’re both sad, we’re both crying, we’re both perfect! everything’s fine, my girl, we’re fine!” he sobbed again, exaggerating every word and shaking slightly.
when you giggled again, he laughed with full gusto. “my girl laughs! yes! my girl’s laughter is everything!” he cheered, wiping tears but unable to stop his voice booming.
by the time you were ready to leave, both of you were exhausted, covered in tears, and probably a little bit of drool. august’s arms stayed around you, voice still loud but softer, hiccuping occasionally. “you’re a warrior,” he said finally, trying to sound serious, though tears still clung to his cheeks. “and if anyone ever doubts you… or me… they’ll have to deal with me yelling, crying, and protecting you at the same time. got it?”
you giggled weakly through your pain, leaning against him. “you’re ridiculous,” you whispered.
“yep! but i’m YOUR ridiculous! and i’m always here! through laughs, tears, everything!” he said, voice booming one last time, eyes glistening. “that’s how much i love you!”
and you, exhausted, dizzy, and emotional, let yourself fall fully into his loud, passionate, chaotic, and utterly devoted love.
gris arrived at your door that morning with his usual quiet confidence, the kind of presence that made you feel like nothing could harm you. his movements were measured, each step deliberate, each word calm.
“good morning,” he said softly, bowing slightly. “i heard about your appointment today. i will accompany you.” his voice carried authority without being harsh, a steady reassurance that immediately made you feel safer.
you swallowed nervously and nodded, clutching your bag, feeling some of the tension in your chest ease just by seeing him.
he guided you to the car, placing a steady hand on your back to help you walk, his eyes scanning the world as if silently promising that no harm would come to you while he was near.
“don’t worry,” he said in his low, calm voice. “everything will be fine. i will make sure of it.” there was a quiet intensity behind his calm — an unspoken vow that he would protect you, no matter what. you felt it in the firmness of his hand, the controlled strength in his posture, and for the first time that morning, you allowed yourself a tiny sigh of relief.
at the clinic, gris remained composed, walking beside you with careful precision. he answered the nurse’s questions politely, always measured, always alert. you felt safe, like nothing could touch you while he was there, but even so, your nerves were high.
your pulse raced and your stomach fluttered with anxiety, which didn’t escape his notice. he reached for your hand, squeezing it lightly. “you are safe,” he said softly. “i am here, and i will not leave your side.”
then the anesthesia began, and the world softened into a haze of fuzziness.
when you woke, the world was strange and your emotions tumbled wildly. gris was sitting beside you, calm and composed as always, hands resting gently on his knees. “you are awake,” he said softly, eyes steady and attentive.
you blinked, trying to focus. “gris… did… did the dentist… put jellybeans in my mouth?” you slurred, waving your hands around randomly.
he tilted his head slightly, calm and patient. “no. you have anesthesia. nothing unusual has occurred.” “ohhhh… good… good… maybe the jellybeans will fight the aliens later,” you mumbled, laughing and then hiccupping, face turning red.
gris’s hand found yours, strong and steady, holding you in place. “you are safe,” he repeated. “focus on my voice. everything is fine.”
suddenly, tears welled in your eyes. “i hate teeth! they’re evil! they want to eat me! and… and… i love you… maybe… no… yes… i don’t know!” your words tumbled out incoherently, half-sob, half-giggle.
gris immediately leaned forward, wrapping a protective arm around your shoulders, holding you firmly but gently. “it is alright,” he said, his voice calm and anchoring. “i am here. nothing will harm you.” beneath the steady exterior, his chest tightened slightly at your vulnerability, but he remained unshaken, a fortress of strength for you.
you kept complaining, until your mood flipped again. “gris… your girlfriend is… sooo lucky… wait… i’m your girlfriend?!” you exclaimed, eyes wide and voice bouncing between joy and panic.
“yes,” he said softly, his tone unwavering. “you are my responsibility. you are safe.”
“ohhhhhh! i should tell everyone… tell the trees… tell the moon… they need to know my status!” you said, waving your hands dramatically, then hiccupping and burying your face in his chest.
gris rested his hands lightly on your shoulders, steady and grounding. “there is no need. you are safe, and i am here. that is enough.” you paused for a second, then suddenly flopped sideways, pointing dramatically. “but… what if… the squirrels are jealous?!”
he exhaled slowly, remaining composed. “they will not be a threat. you have nothing to fear. focus on resting.”
then another mood swing hit. “i love teeth… i hate teeth… i hate aliens… i love gris… maybe… possibly… yes… no…”
“you are safe,” he said again, voice low and steady, unwavering. “breathe. i am here to guide you.”
you leaned against him, hiccupping and muttering, “gris… can we… adopt a dragon? and… a sandwich?!”
gris chuckled softly, adjusting his hold to support you more comfortably. “dragons and sandwiches can wait. your safety is the priority.” but there was warmth in his tone, a subtle fondness shining through. he did not scold you harshly; instead, he anchored you, offering stability while your words tumbled over themselves in chaotic bursts.
then, suddenly, frustration hit. “why… why did they… take my teeth?! they’re mine!” you exclaimed, voice breaking, pointing shakily.
gris’s hands rested lightly on yours, firm but reassuring. “they were removed because it was necessary for your health,” he said calmly. “you are protected. i am here. nothing will harm you.”
tears welled again, but he did not flinch. he held you closer, his steady strength a constant presence. “i know it hurts. i know you are overwhelmed. it is alright. i am with you, and i will remain so.”
you laughed suddenly, hiccuping between sobs. “gris… you’re… so… strong… wait… i’m lucky… no… i’m… we’re lucky!”
he smiled faintly, voice calm but filled with quiet pride. “you are safe. we are both fortunate — fortunate that i can protect you, and fortunate that you trust me.”
time passed slowly, your emotions swinging wildly between random bursts of joy, despair, anger, and silliness.
you muttered nonsense about marshmallows, aliens, sandwiches, dragons, and trees. gris mirrored none of the chaos outwardly; instead, he held you, guided you, supported you with every ounce of strength and honour he possessed.
finally, when you were ready to leave, exhausted, rambling, laughing and crying in turns, he helped you to the car. “you have done well,” he said quietly, voice low and steady. “you are safe. i will remain with you.”
leaning against him, half-conscious, mumbling about imaginary creatures and random declarations of affection, you felt completely protected. gris, calm, honourable, strong, and utterly devoted, was your unwavering guardian — the rock you could cling to, the fortress that sheltered you from chaos, the kind of protector who could weather all your wild, random, and unpredictable emotions without faltering.
and through it all, his presence reminded you, in every quiet word and steady touch, that no matter how random, how chaotic, or how emotional you became, you were completely safe — in his hands, always.
follo arrived at your door that morning quietly, a polite smile on his face, posture straight, demeanor calm and controlled. “good morning,” he said softly, bowing slightly.
“i’ll accompany you to your appointment. it’s important that you aren’t alone.” there was a certain warmth in his voice, a kindness that immediately made you feel safe, but beneath the calm exterior, he was tense, his mind running in circles.
he always wanted to be the best, the most capable, and yet… he couldn’t shake the gnawing feeling that he wasn’t enough, that someone else could do better.
you blinked at him, still groggy from nerves, and murmured, “th-thanks, follo… i… i think i need you…” he nodded, steady and composed. “of course. i am here to protect you.”
the drive to the clinic was quiet but supportive. he occasionally glanced at you, eyes soft, checking for your comfort. “breathe slowly,” he said once, voice calm and reassuring. “you’ll be fine.”
but as soon as the anesthesia began, the world faded into a fuzzy haze, and your emotions went haywire.
when you woke, your words tumbled out randomly, your babbling chaotic.
“follo… the pancakes… they’re spying… or is it the moon… no, wait, the chair…” you muttered, gesturing wildly. he raised an eyebrow, maintaining his polite smile, but his chest tightened slightly.
“you are safe,” he said, voice calm and grounding. “i am here. nothing will harm you.”
“i… i think… maybe… ur girlfriend is… lucky? or is she… oh no, wait…” you hiccupped and trailed off, eyes wide.
follo’s expression softened. “you are… speaking nonsense,” he said gently, voice steady. “and yet… you are my responsibility. you are safe with me.” he felt a pang of unease beneath the calm — that old whisper of not being enough. what if you didn’t truly see him as yours?
“follo… wait… i’m your girlfriend?! or… or am i…?” you asked suddenly, panic and confusion swirling in your words. he blinked, maintaining composure, though his chest tightened. “yes,” he said firmly, gently taking your hand. “you are my girlfriend. you are with me. you are safe.”
“ohhh… but… what if… other girls… like… that turket one… wants you?!” you exclaimed, voice suddenly sharp with frustration. “she… she can’t have you! you’re mine!”
his grip on your hand tightened subtly, polite demeanor unwavering, but his heart thudded in a mix of panic and… something darker. jealousy? protectiveness? “no one else has any claim to me,” he said calmly, voice firm yet measured. “you are the one i am with. no one can take that from you.”
“but… but… what if i’m… not enough…?” you whispered, tears welling, shifting suddenly from anger to insecurity.
follo’s chest tightened, and he inhaled slowly. the words he wanted to say rattled at the edges of his mind, tangled with his own insecurities. he forced himself to remain calm, steady. “you are enough,” he said softly, voice steady and warm. “you are more than enough. do not doubt yourself.”
“i… i… maybe… the pancakes are mad at me… or the chair…” you babbled again, swaying slightly.
he let out a soft exhale, still polite and composed, holding you firmly. “ignore the nonsense. focus on my voice. you are safe. i am here. nothing will harm you.”
then you suddenly burst into tears. “i hate teeth! i hate… i love… i… i’m scared!”
follo carefully wrapped an arm around you, still calm on the surface, but inside he felt the familiar knot of anxiety and self-doubt tighten. he wanted to fix everything, to shield you completely, but he worried he might fail. “it’s alright,” he said softly. “i am here. i will not leave. i will protect you.”
“follo… maybe… maybe… pancakes… are spying… no, the aliens… wait, you… you’re mine!” you exclaimed randomly, laughter and sobs mixed together.
he gently steadied you, holding your hands, voice patient and kind. “yes. i am yours. only yours. you are safe with me. no one else can claim me.”
“ohhh… but… what if… someone… takes you?!” you cried suddenly, panic rising again.
he leaned closer, lowering his voice to a calm, steady tone, anchoring you. “no one can take me. i am yours. i belong to you, and only you.” beneath his polite exterior, a surge of protectiveness and quiet panic rolled through him. the very thought of losing you made his chest ache, stirred the inferiority he usually buried deep, and yet he forced calm into every word and movement.
you hiccupped, babbling more nonsense, about chairs, pancakes, aliens, dragons, even a turkey that apparently wanted him. follo’s hands remained firm on your shoulders, steady, grounding, shielding you. “it is alright,” he repeated gently. “focus on me. i am here. you are safe.”
as the appointment ended and he helped you to the car, you muttered random bits about pancakes, chairs, aliens, and his supposed admirers. he maintained composure, calm and polite, but his eyes softened, a small shadow of his inner conflict flickering — the anxiety of not being enough for you, mixed with the unwavering resolve to protect, cherish, and love you no matter what.
“you have done well,” he said finally, voice low and steady. “you are safe. i am here. always.”
you leaned against him, exhausted and rambling, while follo held you close, strong, polite, and protective — the guardian who bore his inner conflicts silently, never letting them affect the safety and comfort of the one he loved.
zodyl arrived at your door early in the morning, coat sharp, posture rigid, eyes scanning every detail of your apartment like he was preparing for a tactical mission. “you are going to the dentist,” he said, voice cold but controlled, “i will accompany you. it is safer this way.”
you blinked at him. “uh… thanks?” he simply nodded and held the door open for you. his movements were precise, measured — the kind of precision that made him seem untouchable to the world. but with you, he softened just slightly, enough for you to feel safe.
the drive was quiet. zodyl’s hands gripped the steering wheel with a calculated calm, eyes flicking to you every now and then to make sure you weren’t panicking. “breathe slowly,” he said once, voice low. “you’ll be fine.”
once the procedure started, he stayed in the waiting room, posture perfect, expression unreadable, but his mind was racing. not because of danger — he could handle danger — but because he knew your anesthesia would leave you vulnerable and emotional, and he wanted to be there for it.
when the procedure was over, and you woke up, the anesthesia had not worn off yet. the first thing you did was blink at him, cheeks puffed and drooling slightly.
“zodyl… oh my god…” you mumbled, voice fuzzy and slow.
he knelt beside you, voice calm, grounding. “you’re awake. i’m here.”
“you’re… you’re sooo… handsome…” you slurred, reaching for his face.
zodyl froze. “…hand‑some?” he repeated, tone flat but internally his chest tightened. “yes! soooo… i just… i wanna eat you up,” you whispered dramatically. he stiffened, and the faintest pink crept onto his cheeks — a rare sight. “do not… eat me,” he said carefully, keeping his composure.
“why not? you look… DELICIOUS,” you giggled, swaying in your chair. zodyl exhaled slowly, lowering himself slightly so he could steady you. “because i am not food,” he said firmly. “focus on sitting still.” you blinked rapidly, mood swinging instantly from flirty to panic. “wait… wait wait wait… am i your… girlfriend?”
he froze for a moment — not because he didn’t know the answer, but because the way you asked, eyes wide and lips trembling, was somehow more intense under anesthesia. “…yes.”
“ARE YOU SURE???” you shouted suddenly, waving your arms. “i am sure,” he replied, voice steady. “but… but what if… the nurse wants you?? or the lady outside?? or the clouds???”
“…the clouds?” he asked, deadpan. “YES!! they’re round and fluffy and they probably want you too!” zodyl pinched the bridge of his nose. “…no one wants me but you.”
your expression flipped again — now tears, now laughter. “but… ur girlfriend is so lucky… wait… i mean… i’m your girlfriend… right??”
he knelt closer, lowering his voice softly. “yes. you are my girlfriend.” “good… i love youuuu,” you slurred, leaning your head against his chest.
then, another shift — dramatic sadness. “zodyl… i hate teeth… they hurt so bad… i’m scared…”
zodyl’s hand rested on your shoulder, steadying you. “…i know. it is temporary. i will stay with you. you are safe.” “but… but what if… other girls… like the turket girl… want you??”
he sighed quietly, calm but flustered. “…no one else matters. only you are important.” suddenly, pure joy returned, and you reached up to poke his cheek. “you’re so… so… cute. i could smoosh your face like mochi… and maybe… eat your shoulder…”
zodyl’s jaw clenched. “you are impossible,” he muttered, trying to maintain his composure while internally panicking. you tilted your head, confused. “impossible? nooo… adorable… yes… handsome… i’m confused… but i love you…”
he rubbed the back of his neck, a rare gesture of vulnerability, and gently guided you to the car. “we’re going home,” he said, voice calm, grounding.
on the drive back, you rambled on about everything:
how his jawline was “illegal,”
how his eyes were “dangerously pretty,”
how the clouds were conspiring to steal him from you,
how pancakes might be jealous,
and how the chair in the waiting room was definitely judging him.
zodyl listened silently, patiently, flustered at your compliments, annoyed at your accusations, but entirely devoted. when you suddenly slumped against him, sobbing softly because your cheeks hurt, he held you tighter.
“you are safe,” he murmured. “i will protect you. always.”
and when you finally drifted off in his arms, exhausted from emotions swinging wildly from happiness to sadness to rage and back again, zodyl stayed perfectly still, hands steady, heart quietly racing — cold and calculating to everyone else, but entirely soft and flustered for you.
jabber wasn’t supposed to be the responsible one. everyone knew that. but the moment you mentioned your wisdom teeth removal, he shoved everyone else aside and announced, loud and proud, “nah. i’m takin’ her. she’s my girl.”
so here he was — pacing the clinic hallway, boots tapping, grin sharp, fingers drumming like a man waiting for the main event of a show he’d bought front-row tickets for.
he couldn’t sit still.
he was vibrating.
when the nurse finally waved him inside, he practically sprinted. you were sitting in the chair, cheeks puffed, mouth stuffed with gauze, eyes glazed like a confused baby deer.
jabber slowed down.
stared.
and then—
a grin exploded across his face.
“ohhh, girl… you are DONE,” he cackled, leaning over you. “this is gonna be GOOD.”
you blinked at him. very slowly.
then squinted.
“jabber?” you whispered, reaching for him like he was a floating balloon. he leaned in immediately. “yeah, mamas? i’m right here.” you touched his face with both hands, squishing his cheeks together.
“you’re… so… PRETTY.” jabber froze. then choked on his own spit. “pretty?? you callin’ me pretty right now?” he laughed, but his ears were turning red.
“your girlfriend is sooo lucky…” you slurred dramatically. jabber raised a brow. “ma… you’re my girlfriend.” you gasped so hard the nurse outside probably heard it. “i AM???”
jabber snorted. “yes, girl. you been mine.” but your brain shifted gears instantly your eyes filled with tears.
“jabberrrr…” his smile dropped. “what? what now?” “i don’t… i don’t think i’m your girlfriend…” he cupped your face, nose brushing yours. “you ARE. end of story.” “but what if—” you hiccuped “—the nurse wants you??”
jabber looked personally offended. “the nurse? mamas… she ain’t my type.” “what about the cloud??”
jabber blinked. “…the CLOUD??” “it’s fluffy. it wants you,” you whispered. jabber slapped a hand over his mouth to stop laughing.
“mamas, you think a cloud is tryin’ to steal me from you?”
you nodded seriously. he leaned in, kissing your forehead. “not even god’s sky can take me from you.”
and then—
without warning—
you burst into giggles.
“jabber… jabber… your face is… so handsome… i wanna eat it.” jabber. malfunctioned. his shoulders stiffened, his cheeks flushed, and he tried desperately to look normal.
“…eat me?” he croaked. “YES. like a SNACK.” jabber dragged a hand down his face. “girl, don’t— don’t say shit like that in public, my brain can’t handle it—”
but you were already switching moods again. you suddenly glared at him. like he’d personally declared war on your family.
“jabber.”
“yeah?”
“WHY ARE YOU SO HOT? STOP BEING HOT.”
he raised both hands. “i can’t turn it off! it’s not a switch!” “TURN. IT. OFF.” “i would if i knew how!” he wheezed. you crossed your arms stubbornly, pouting. “i don’t like you.”
jabber pressed a hand to his chest, stumbling dramatically. “ow. right in the heart, girl.”
then, a second later, you reached for him again.
“jabberrr… come back. i like you. i love you. wait— i’m mad at you. no i’m not. come here. no, go away. no, come closer. i forgot what i’m saying.” jabber was laughing so hard he had to steady himself on the chair.
“you’re a mess, mamas.” your lower lip trembled. “my mouth hurts…” his laugh softened. he crouched beside you, brushing your hair back. “i know, girl. i know. let’s get you home.”
once he lifted you into his arms, you wrapped your arms around his neck and whispered, “jabber… your jawline is so sharp… i wanna chew it.”
“can you PLEASE stop trying to eat me?” he begged, flustered and shaking with laughter. “i’m walkin’ through a waiting room right now—” “you’re delicious.” “STOP.”
you gasped suddenly. “jabber???”
“what now, mamas?” “are you sure… i’m your girlfriend? really sure? like super real sure?” he kissed your forehead again. “girl. you’re mine. you been mine. you’ll stay mine.”
you relaxed instantly, laying your head on his chest like that answer alone restored your entire soul.
jabber carried you out of the clinic like you were a misbehaving kitten, grinning the whole way as you muttered:
“why is the sun looking at you like that?”
“jabber don’t let the chair flirt with you.”
“your hair smells like blood.”
“you’re so hot it’s annoying.”
“i like your face. and your arms. and your everything.”
and through every wild, chaotic emotion —happy, angry, heartbroken, flirty, confused— jabber stayed right beside you, entertained, protective, flustered, and secretly loving every single second of taking care of you while you were completely out of your mind.
「©valentinesxoxo˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ 」
