#Gonna head straight to bed and go to the gym in the morning :) New Order got me thru it for tonight - so shout out to their music

[lunasilvis]

Bit in a funk tonight, idk. Going to get some sleep

[bokutosworld]

seasons change, our love remains the same | miya o. 

pairing: timeskip osamu x f!reader  word count, genre: 1.8k words, established relationship, fluff.  warning: none summary: a story of how osamu’s love for you began and how it will never end. a/n: this is a piece for the haikyuu-cafe x hqhangout collab! 

It was springtime when words of love flowed out of him. 

“What are you looking at?” 

Osamu peers over your shoulder to get a glimpse of the yearbook in your hand. His eyes land on a younger version of himself who was barely smiling at the camera. He grimaces internally, shaking his head at the memory of the day when the picture was taken.

Sitting down on the floor, he slings his arms around you and brings you closer. “Where did you get this?” 

“Unlike you, I actually kept our yearbook. It’s a nice memento of the past,” you laugh, turning the page and going further down the memory lane. You reach a section containing different pictures—montages of photographs from the sports day, the cultural festival, and, the one that caught your eye, the graduation ceremony. 

“Hey, do you remember this?” Osamu follows where you were pointing at. There, at the middle, was a blurred image of some Class-1 students, his and your class, under a cherry blossom tree. Though the colors were muted, he could vividly remember that moment when the pink petals were dancing around in the air, everyone dreamily looking up at the bloom, but all he could focus on was you standing by his side as the teacher captured the photograph. 

He remembers how his heart was beating so crazily at that instant. And what followed then was the moment that he’d been preparing for. 

“Of course, I do. What do you take me for?” His arms encircle around your waist, he kisses the top of your head. “That’s when I confessed to you.” 

You chuckle, “Wrong. You haven’t confessed to me here yet.” 

“Oh, right,” he rests his chin on your shoulder, looking straight in your eyes. He narrates the past to you, “After we took that picture, I asked if you could come with me at the back of the gym.” 

You hum and he continues, “You awkwardly followed behind as we walked together. Then when we arrived, I brought out a single carnation flower. You stared at it with wide eyes for minutes and I was so scared that I would get rejected right there and then.” 

“Well, that’s because you weren’t saying anything! How was I supposed to know you were confessing when you were just standing there with a flower?” 

“I’m pretty sure I said I love you,” he teases. “You just didn’t hear it.” 

You put down the book on the table and turn to the side so you could face him. “You’re lucky I’ve been in love with you since middle school.” 

He chuckles, bringing one hand to cup your cheek and the other to brush away some hair on your face. “I really am lucky.” And before you knew it, soft lips touch yours and it makes you feel warm and tingly. “Being with you is like a dream that I don’t ever want to wake up from.” 

Summer when you found yourself running to him for comfort. 

The front door to Onigiri Miya chimes, alerting Osamu of a new customer. He looks up momentarily from his task of rolling sushi to greet the person who’s come in, only to be surprised to see it was you. 

“Hi.” You smile weakly and take the usual spot at the counter, right at the front where you could watch him cook.

“What are you doing here? I thought I’d see you at the apartment.” 

“I’m tired. And it was so hot, I couldn’t take another minute of commute,” you groan as you drop your head on the table. “The trains were jam-packed and I didn’t want to be sandwiched between people and feel their sweat on skin.” You imagine the scenario if you didn’t walk your way towards his shop tonight, and the thought had you shuddering in your seat. 

“Anyway, I went here and thought we could go home together.” You peek at him from behind your arms. “Also I just really, really wanted to see you already.” 

Osamu instantly softens. At the moment, he wanted nothing more than to close shop, take you home, and lie on the bed with you in his arms. All the time in the relationship, he felt like he’s been the one who’s constantly relying on you. But right now, you were running to him and he wanted to be there to catch you. 

“There’s only few customers left but I think can finish this in twenty minutes.” He slides over a glass of iced tea to you. “Can you wait for me?” 

You nod and he leans to give you a quick kiss before returning to his work. You watch in awe as he skillfully moves around his area, hands deftly making the customers’ orders. And not before long, he’s standing beside you, already changed out of his work uniform to his usual beige polo shirt (the one you gifted him and his obvious favorite). He holds out a paper bag with his shop’s logo. You take it with a curious look. 

“It’s not gonna bite you,” he jokes and it makes you roll eyes. “I figured you haven’t eaten dinner yet so I made yaki-onigiri. You can eat it at home.” You’re silent as he takes your hands and guides the two of you out of the store, waving to his employees and reminding them to close. 

“You remembered my favorite food.” 

He squeezes your hand and brings it to his lips, “Of course, I remember everything about you.” It’s his beautiful smile that makes you weak at the knees and instantly chases your exhaustion away. 

In autumn, he made a promise. 

“Hold my hand so we don’t get separated.” Osamu insists after having lost you for the fifth time in a row. The two of you were in Kyoto for a long overdue out-of-town vacation. After some time, you were both fortunate to finally free up your busy schedule and Osamu had planned a five days and four nights trip to the region. 

“I’m not a kid, Osamu,” you whine but still lace your fingers with his and move deeper into the park. Osamu lets you take the lead as you stroll along the path in Arashiyama Bamboo Forest, the one place you’ve always wanted to visit. 

The moment you stood at the entrance of the grove, you were struck at the beautiful, soaring green stalks that seemed to welcome you to another world. Osamu could feel the excitement radiating from you and whenever you smiled, whenever you turned to him to gush about the scenery, he finds himself falling in love with you all over again. He’s smiling as he watches you take photo after photo, unaware that he’s also taken his phone out to capture a picture of you. 

As you’re standing in the midst of the crowd, looking like you’re having the best time and so beautiful with the way the faint light from above falls on you like a spotlight, Osamu has a fleeting wish that he could be the one to make you happy for the rest of your life. 

You suddenly stop admiring the view in favor of searching for your boyfriend who seemed to have stopped moving for minutes. The two of you stare at each other, neither one making the move to walk closer. Osamu tilts his head to one side as he mouths at you, “Hi.”

Confused, you mimic him. “Hey.” 

It takes him five big steps to close the distance. He grabs your face, thumbs grazing at your cheeks as he stares affectionately. Time slows down but your heart races when he says, “Let’s get married.” 

You thought you heard wrong. But that was until he brought out a box that’s been hiding at his coat pocket. You gasp audibly, tears pooling in your eyes, as he takes the ring out and holds it in front of you. 

“I love you more than life itself. I want to stay by your side and keep you happy for as long as you’ll let me.”

You’re crying as you say yes and his vision is also blurry when he slips the jewelry on your finger, a symbol of his commitment and love for you. 

And in winter, the two of you were home. 

It’s well past morning. The clock reads 9:58 am but somehow you could not find it in you to get up from the bed. You move your body but it proved futile when you felt a pair of arms tightening around you, refusing to let you go. 

You feel hot breaths fanning your neck, craning to look back at the person sleeping behind you. Reaching a hand to stroke his hair, you feel Osamu only nuzzle closer and seeking warmth from your body. 

“Good morning,” he hums. 

You turn around, wrapping your arms around his waist and pressing a kiss on his lips. “It’s always a good morning waking up next to you.” 

He chuckles, the low voice sending goosebumps on your skin and causing the blood to rush on your face. He takes you by surprise by suddenly flipping you over, trapping you in a bear hug while you laid above him. 

“Wait, Osamu, let go!” Your voice muffled on his chest. 

“I don’t want to.” He loses himself in your sweet scent and he feels slowly being lulled back to sleep. “It’s cold. Let’s stay here longer.” 

Your struggle did not last for long, eventually giving in to your husband’s grip and you lay peacefully, hearing the calm beating of his heart. A glance to the windows and you can see the trees covered in thick white, making you excited as you realized the snow has made its fall overnight. 

You look up at him, “We should get breakfast.” 

“You mean brunch.” 

Giggling, you begin to sit up which only makes Osamu groan and reach out for you. “Come on, I’ll make your favorite hot chocolate and we can look outside at the snow.” 

At the mention of hot chocolate, he slightly peeks his head from the blankets, catching you before you exit the door. “With marshmallows?” 

“Of course.” You tease, knowing how much he loved his hot drink with those soft, pillowy white confections. 

This makes him smile and finally, he gets out of the bed and makes his way to you. He slips hands into yours before walking with you out of the room. 

Mornings with Osamu were the best. And as much as you looked forward to spending every day with him, he is also anticipating what’s in store for the rest of his years with you. 

[firetextskpop]

Omg poly OT23 ofc no sexual stuff for jisung or chenle,but like imagine poly ot23 just babying y/n oml🥺

I love the idea of this sm, I’m sorry it took so long to write it. ♥ I’m going to break it down to days of the week and how they’re typically spent with the boys. I'll make it a multipart series.

 Monday

Mondays were the days you woke up in the Dream Dorms. Often you found yourself in bed with Jaemin, his arms wrapped around you as he scrolled through a food delivery service. “Good morning” you mumbled and cuddled deeper into his side. “Good Morning love, what are you feeling for food?” He asked and rubbed your shoulder. You groaned for a bit before telling him your preference. Jaemin nodded and ordered food for the entire dorm. The both of you shared the dreams you had and discussed them until there was a knock on the door. “You guys up yet?” Renjun asked cautiously cracking open the door. Once he sees the both of you laying in bed with your eyes open, he smiles and properly greets you. The younger of the two informs the elder that food is being delivered. Junnie acknowledges him and tells you both that Chenle arrived. Quickly the two of you get out of bed and throw on a T-shirt to greet your other boyfriend. Once the two of you make it to the living room, Renjun has his arm around Chenle, and Jeno is cuddled against Jisung. "Good morning my loves! " You say rushing to sit on Chenle's lap and hold him close. He chuckles and the 3 males you haven't yet spoken to bid you a good morning. Jaemin went to cuddle with Jeno and Jisung. To your luck, Chenle brought Daegal, who also clung to you. As everyone talked and discussed their plans, the food arrived. You thanked the delivery man and sat next to your youngest boyfriend. "So yeah Y/N, We're going to go to the park then grabbing some food. Wanna come?" Jeno asked putting his hand on your knee. "Of course." You agreed, ruffling his hair. Once everyone finished eating, you and Renjun went into the kitchen to wash the dishes remaining. He washed, you dried. After all of the dishes were finished, Renjun loved giving you kisses all over and little praises to make your day just a little better. Jisung walks in and gags a bit at how you two can be like this any and everywhere. You rolled your eyes at the tall boy and go back into Jaemin's room to find some cute clothes to wear. After preparing for your 3-way date, you meet the boys in the living room again. "Since you won't give me the love out there, can I get my hugs and smooches in here?" You ask looking at Jisung. He nervously chuckled and nodded. Your arms wrap around him tightly and he kisses your forehead. He leans down a bit for you to kiss his cheek and nose and then you break the hug. Jeno pouted a bit before mumbling about not getting his affection. "Well you'll love me in public but Sungie is a bit shyer." The pout still stood on Jenos face. You went over to Jeno and kissed him, held his hand and the three of you went to the park. At the Park, Jisung rode a skateboard while eating his ice cream, and you and Jeno followed him by walking while still holding hands. After a few hours of the three of you being active, you all sat on the bench, and you cuddled against Jeno. He scrolled through the NCT/WayV group texts, which contained lots of memes, plans, and scheduling. You looked at the texts with him, then looked over at Jisung. The mentioned boy was thoroughly enjoying the scenery around him. With the people busy, the wind blowing against the trees and your skin, and quiet nature sounds, he truly felt at peace. Being here with people he loved just made it all the better. You reached out a hand to put on his and he looked at you and smiled. Before you knew it, Jeno's phone rang and it was Haechan asking when you 3 will be home. A brief discussion happened that ended on agreeing to go back at that time. On the way back, you held Jisung's hand in the car and told both of your boyfriends how much you appreciated the time together and that you loved them. They smiled and reassured you that the love was reciprocated. As soon as you got to their dorm, Mark and Haechan were sitting on the couch while bickering. It wasn't over anything serious, just a little teasing. "Hey, big head!" You mess with Haechan. He turns to you and throws a pillow at you. "Your head is way bigger than mine," Channie stated. "Whatever," You joked and

messed up his hair, now sitting between him and Mark. The boys talked to each other about upcoming scheduling to make sure everyone was prepared and aware. Mark rubbed his hand against your arm to warm you a bit. "The boys at the 127 dorms are excited to see you." He says loud enough for you only to hear. "Really?" You responded happily. Lately, 127 have had promotions which just finished. The promotions made it a bit harder for you to spend as much time as you'd like but never impossible. Mark nodded and checked his phone. "Our ride is here, you two ready?" You and Haechan nod and say your goodbyes to the Dreamies. The car ride to the 127 dorms was comforting, Mark flirted with both you and Haechan which made you blush. Once you arrived at the dorms, everyone actually still was quite busy. Jaehyun, Johnny, and Jungwoo all went to the gym, Doyoung, Taeyong, and Yuta all went to grab a bite of food and maybe even a drink, and Taeil went straight to sleep after returning home. Leaving you, Mark, and Haechan to your own. The younger of the two played on his switch as you cuddled against him in Mark's bed. Mark played his guitar while writing a new rap for his upcoming mixtape/solo release. Slowly you began falling asleep but when Haechan failed something in his game, you woke up a bit. You checked your phone to see that the boys who went to the gym had returned and began to get up. "I think I'm gonna sleep in Jae and Jungwoo's room tonight." The two youngest members nodded. "Alright, I think I'll go back to my room too. Johnny gives the best cuddles." Haechan said and looked at Mark. "Wait but you told me I did this morning." The 99 liner said a bit upset. "Did I? Well it's Johnny, he's like a big teddy bear an-" The older of the two could now see that the younger was messing with him and threw a stuffed animal at him before they began bickering again. You chuckled a bit to yourself before heading to Woo and Jae's room. When you open the door, you're surprised to find Jaehyun alone in bed. Judging by the fresh smell, headband, and him being in sweatpants only, you concluded that he just got out of the shower not too long ago. "Hey babe," He greeted you with a smile. "Hey, where's Woo?" You asked getting in bed with him. He wrapped his arm around you and put his face into your neck. "He decided to join Johnny for a bit." A hum of acknowledgment left your mouth as you got comfortable. Both of you drifted into a sleep while talking about your days.

[hanniiesuckle17]

Ateez Reaction: Hangover

A/n: i am so obsessed with Ateez. like wow. damn. so this is my first ateez reaction but i cant wait to do more! I'm still a new Atiny so please go easy on me and i hope you like it!

Tag List: @ashisparanoid​ @mini-meanhoe​ @leggomylino​ @hanstagrams​ @desertofdessert​ @hoes4hoseok​ @yangomangos​ @jeonqqin​ @geminirules​ @crscendoforsung​ @mrsunshine999​ @jisungsjheekies​ @hannie-squirrel00​ @cotccotc​ @kodzu-ken​ @konenichi​ @yangs-jeongin​

Warnings: cussing

Hongjoong:

You awoke to pain between your legs and sore muscles all around your body. Normally, you took pretty well to hangovers. They never bothered you much. However, the night prior both you and your boyfriend had quite a lot to drink which led to a very...explorative and wild night.

You made a small attempt to sit up, but that was quickly stilled by the aching pain all over your mostly bare body. Rolling over, you grabbed the closest shirt on the floor and wheezed at the twinges of pain as you lifted it over your head. Looking over you saw Hongjoong still fast asleep. He lay on his stomach, the muscles in his back shifting every now and then. 

Smiling, you pressend gentle kisses along his bare skin. Slowly he began to wake up. “Oh- my head-.....good morning, gorgeous.” His voice was raw sending shivers down your spine. His red hair was sticking up in wild directions, reminding you of a cute Einstein. His lips were puffy and there were several red marks on his neck and shoulder. “Is your hangover as bad as mine?” He mumbled, rubbing the fatigue and sleep away from his face.

“I have a small headache. I’m mostly sore...and hungry.”

“Ooooo! You know what sounds perfect?” Hongjoong mused, bottom lip tugging between his teeth. “Pizza.”He laughed seeing your eyes light up. Reaching over on the night stand he pulled out his phone and began ordering a huge pizza, with you looking over his shoulder. 

“Do you think they would deliver it straight to the bed? I don’t wanna get up.” 

Hongjoong laughed and finished the order before rolling on top of you and covering your face with lazy kisses. “Good thing I have the day off. I feel like shit and I have no plan of leaving this bed.” After a little while the two of you heard a knock at the apartment door. “I’m not getting up,” Holding out your fist the two of you played rock, paper, scissors for who had to get up and answer the door. Hongjoong groaned as you crushed his two fingers with your fist. 

“Fuck you,” He said with a light hearted laugh before throwing off the covers and grabbing a clean pair of sweats to cover himself. 

“You already did. Multiple times.”

Joong left laughing and came back with a pizza in hand. The two of you sat in bed the rest of the day, snacking on the greasy food and chasing away the hangovers and aches.

Seonghwa:

Seonghwa didn’t drink often. He preferred to be the sober one of the group; making sure no one got arrested or molested or something like that. Even when he got drunk with you, the next morning he was always the one taking care of you. He’d pop about twelve painkillers and rush around making you soup and getting medicine for your headaches. 

This morning was not the normal case. Last night he and Hongjoong had gone out and come back blasted. Waking up to Hongjoong drooling on your couch was definitely not what you had expected. After kicking him out with money for a cab and a thermos of coffee you turned your attention to your now groaning boyfriend. You leaned on the doorframe and watched Seonghwa starfish and moan in the center of your shared bed. 

“Morning, Toothless.”

“This is not morning. This is death. I am Death. Your Toothless is dead.”

There was no stopping the laugh that bubbled up in your chest. “What about my Seonghwa? Where is he?”

“He’s dead too. Too much vodka.”

Nodding, you played along before slinking into the bathroom and grabbing two Advil and glass of water. The cup thunked against the night stand and Seonghwa buried himself further into the blankets. “Tell your ghost there is medicine on the table.” The only answer you received was a shaky and pathetic groan from a lump of blanket. “Such a fucking drama queen,” You mumbled with a laugh.

You spent the next thirty minutes making Seonghwa hangover soup. You had found a recipe marked “For Tequila Y/n Aftermath” and assumed it should get your boyfriend back in working- or at least functioning- order.

Carefully, you brought a steaming bowl into the bedroom and forced Seonghwa to sit up against the headboard. He turned to you with puppy eyes. “Feed me?” Rolling your eyes, you reached for the bowl and gave him a spoonful. His eyes lit up with a happy smile. 

“You’re lucky you’re cute, Toothless.” 

Yunho:

“Wake up, lovebirds!” San screamed, throwing open the curtains. 

Both you and Yunho shrugged away from the light. “San, fuck off!” You mumbled, burrowing further into Yunho’s chest. You whined as he sat up. Hearing San shriek you could only assume Yunho threw a pillow at the younger boy. 

“How bad is your hangover?” Yunho asked, wrapping his long arms around you. 

“How bad is yours?”

“Not too bad.....” You scoffed and pinched his arm making him yelp. “Okay-that was a lie. It’s pretty bad.” 

“Same here.” 

Your cold fingers wrapped around the blankets and pulled them over both your heads. “Let’s never drink again.” Yunho mumbled, eyes closing. The sheets rustled as he threw one of his long legs over you, hugging you with his entire body. 

You chuckled, poking your boyfriend’s puffy cheek. You could only imagine how bloated your face was. “You and I both know that’s not gonna happen.” His lips pouted in frustration, eyes still closed. Unable to resist his cuteness you leaned up and pecked his lips. One peck turned into a few. A few turned into many. 

“Hey, baby?” Yunho mumbled, lying on his back. You hummed, tracing patterns on his chest. “I think I’m gonna be sick.” You laughed and let him loose from your arms. Your giant boyfriend lumbered into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. 

Your body ached and your head was throbbing against the frame of your skull. After a few moments Yunho emerged with a wet washcloth and his breath smelling like mint tooth paste. He still looked very hungover. “Come back to bed, bear.” He crawled over, careful not to get the blankets wet with the washcloth, and rest his head on your chest.

“For you, baby.” His long fingers gingerly lay the cool cloth on your forehead, easing the headache you were having. “What do you say to a few more hours of sleep?” He asked, listening to your heartbeat. Your hands slowly ran through his hair. 

“Sounds pretty damn great.”

Yeosang:

The last you had heard from Yeosang was the ten drunk voicemails he left in your inbox. You called the boys’ manager and made sure that they got home safely. A few minutes ago you received a text from Hongjoong saying all the boys were now up (at two in the afternoon). Hopping in your car, you drove over to their dorm. 

“Knock knock?” You entered the dorm knowing most of the boys would be like zombies. Just as you predicted several of the boys were strewn out in the mostly still dark apartment. The second you opened the blinds they yelped, still sensitive to the light. “Where’s Yeosang?” You asked between laughs.

Mingi groaned from the couch and gestured to the kitchen. There you saw Yeosang attempting to stir something in a pot. He got tired halfway through the motion and rested his head on the counter. Quietly, you took off your coat and approached him from behind. Your boyfriend jumped almost a full foot in the air when you wrapped your arms around him from behind. “Y/n? When did you get here, honey?” 

Yeosang abandoned the pot for you, choosing instead to nuzzle his head in your neck. “Just a few minutes ago.” He pulled you into a soft hug, breathing in the scent of your perfume. “So how much and what did you drink last night?” You asked with a laugh. He pulled away and drowsily looked you in the eyes. 

“Ummmm....I remember lots of soju....then San made us do tequila shots.” Out of habit you pushed his soft hair out of his face as he spoke. He leaned into your hand like a moth drawn to light. 

Reaching up, you felt his forehead. “Aww baby. You’ve got a little bit of a fever.” He nodded reattaching his head to the crook of your neck. Normally Yeosang was the opposite of clingy. He was shy and preferred to not flaunt his affection for you. “You want me to finish making your food, Sangie?” He pouted with a nod and shuffled so he was behind you. Picking up where he left off you began to finish his meal.

“More spice please.” He asked cutely pressing a kiss to your neck. 

San:

Sweet, sweet karma. What did you do to deserve this? You thought with a grin. Everytime you had a hangover San was the first to unleash all hell at you. He played loud music in the morning. He “dropped” pans while making breakfast. But worst of all....without fail, he dragged you to the gym and made you work out with him. He claimed it was the best cure for a hangover. 

Now here he lay, still completely knocked out from the night before. Your boyfriend’s legs were tangled in the sheets and his arms were wrapped tightly around a pillow, a sad replacement for your body. “Sweet revenge, you are mine.” Swiftly you kicked San’s leg only earning a groan from the man. “San,” you sang.

“What.” The man said lifting his head up and glaring at your smiling face. 

“Did you have a little too much fun last night, baby?”

“No.” He simply hugged the pillow tighter and attempted to go back to sleep. 

San flinched, grabbing his head as you slammed down his favorite sneakers on the nightstand. “You what the best cure for a hangover is?” Knowing he wasn’t going to answer you yanked the blankets away. San whined and groaned like a little child. “A workout.”

“NO!”

Depsite his protests, like your boyfriend had done to you many times, you now dragged him to the gym and forced him through a seemingly endless exercise routine. You couldn’t help but laugh at the sight beside you. San looked terrible as he struggled to keep up with your pace on the treadmill. “You good to keep going?” He glared knowing it was not a question but his face quickly changed. 

“Fuck- I’m gonna be sick.”

Jumping off the machine, San sprinted to the gym’s bathrooms, most likely to wrench his guts out. Emerging, San wiped his mouth and looked at you with a guilty smile. “What are you never ever going to do again?”

“I will never make you work out with a hangover.”

“Good,” Laughing you watched his face twist embarrassment. Regardless, he leaned down capturing your lips in a kiss. You curled away, shivering. “Okay, I love you but no more kisses until you’ve brushed your teeth and showered.”

Mingi:

Your head was pounding. Thankfully your bedroom was still dark except for the small source of light emitting from your boyfriend’s phone. “Mingi?” The boy turned hearing his name. His head was resting against the head board, colored hair sticking up in random places. 

Little blue rectangles reflected the screen of his phone in his glasses. “Hi, baby,” He mumbled, voice still raw. Like the big baby he was, Mingi rolled over ontop of you, eliciting a groan from your lips. 

“What time is it?”

“Early....but late....but also early...”

“Mingi are you still drunk from last night?” He shook his head, nuzzling into your neck. He was unquestionably still drunk. The boys had roped you into their crazy antics which resulted in you and Mingi drunkenly stumbling into a cab back to your apartment. Mingi did have.....a lot...to drink. Way more than you. 

“Lemme get the curtains.” With a goofy smile, Mingi pecked your lips before his tall form wobbled over to the covered window. Pulling back the curtains he gasped and turned to you cutely. “Babe!” You snorted at your cute, still  tipsy, boyfriend. “Shit! It’s dark outside! Did we sleep the whole day?” 

Laughing, you checked your phone. “Mingi, it’s just raining. It’s only 10:00 AM.” Feeling the effects of your growing hangover you snuggled back under the covers. “Babyyyyy, come back to bed.” You whined watching Mingi mess with something on his phone.

“Noooo! I’m up! Oh my god! Y/n! Let’s dance!” 

Mingi began playing a loud sound on his phone and dancing over the foot of the bed. “Baby.....you’re still drunk.” He shook his head and began singing the lyrics quite loudly. Headache spiking, you covered your ears.

Launching the nearest pillow at him quickly shut your boyfriend up. “Why did you do that?” He asked with a pout. 

“Aww bub...come back to bed.” Finally obliging, Mingi crawled back into your arms and the two of you slept off the remaining effects of alcohol. 

Wooyoung:

You awoke to heavenly smells of something good floating from your kitchen. Squinting at the bright light in your room you sat up and turned to see Wooyoung’s side of the bed cold and empty. 

“Woo?”

Your throat was dry and scratchy as you called out to your boyfriend. It shocked you to see your usually stoic and sarcastic boyfriend rush into the room, spoon in hand. “You’re awake?” He asked quietly. You groaned as Wooyoung pounced on top of you in a bear hug. “How bad is your hangover?” He asked kissing all over your face. 

“Very bad.”

“Well, you did try to drink San under the table.”

Your eyebrow quirked up and Wooyoung laughed at your sleepy face. “The question is....did I win?” He laughed even more before nodding. “Then I deem this hangover- ‘worth it’.”Gently, Wooyoung tucked his hands under your legs and lifted you up.

You were glad your sore muscles didn’t have to move much as your newly doting boyfriend carried you into the kitchen, even setting you down on a stool at the counter. This was a new side of Wooyoung you hadn’t seen. 

“Whatcha cookin’, good lookin’?”

“Hangover soup just for you, love.”

You watched him cut the remaining vegetables and ingredients with expert skill and slide them across the cutting board and into the pot. Watching Wooyoung move around the kitchen like it was second nature sent a warm bubbly feeling to your chest and stomach. “Were you always this domestic?” You asked resting your chin against your palm.

A light layer of sweat rested on his forehead, pieces of black hair clinging to the skin. The steam from the pot after up onto his handsome face.  “Does it turn you on?” He answered wiggling his eyebrows.

“And there is my horny, evil, chaotic Wooyoung.” 

The corner of his lips lifted up in a smile as he ladled the warm homemade soup into bowls. Setting yours in front of you with a kiss on the cheek he encouraged you to eat. “You love me all the same.”

“Yes. Thank you for taking care of me,” A smile filled your face as you tried some of the soup, Wooyoung anxiously awaiting your opinion. You nodded eagerly and quickly ate the rest of the bowl, feeling better by the second. 

Jongho:

“Never again. Never again will I drink.”

The phrase left your lips like a mantra as you rolled around in bed. The room was dark, blinds drawn and your head stuffed under the covers. Your whole body was sore and your head was throbbing. “Oh...shit....here it comes.” You cried feeling the contents of your stomach begin to crawl up your throat. 

Rushing to the bathroom you hurled into the white porcelain bowl. You hated throwing up. Not being able to stand the vile taste in your mouth, you immediately brushed your teeth. Grabbing your phone on the way back to the warmth and comfort of your bed, you unlocked it and winced at the harsh blue light.

Pressing the device to your ear, you listened to the dial tone and awaited the sweet sound of your boyfriend’s voice. “Hi my baby!” Jongho greeted in English. Despite the piercing volume of his voice, you couldn't help but grin. How was it possible you were dating the cutest man on the entire planet. “Say hi to Atiny!” Nevermind. He was no longer cute. He put you on speaker phone. 

“Hi, Atiny! Jongho, darling, take me off speaker for a sec.” 

He hummed in response. “Did you just wake up? When I left you last night you tried to get me to dance the Harlem Shake with you.” You covered your face in embarrassment. You and Jongho and gone out last night and you may have had way too much to drink. 

“What time is it?”

“Like.....4 pm.”

“OH MY GOD!”

Jongho’s laugh was like music to your ears. “Should I come over later? I’m done about seven-ish.” Groaning you rolled over, struggling against the urge to vomit again. “Is that a no groan, a yes groan, or I’m too hungover to speak groan?”

“You said seven? Could you bring medicine..........and pizza.....yeah. Lots of pizza.”

“So pizza, meds, anything else?”

“Nope! I love youuuu!”

Jongho chuckled over the phone. “I love you too, baby. See you later,”

Masterlist

[dnarez]

Chapter 7 - Autumn Coat

It's been a few months since you started to work as a caretaker, nothing grand happened, but the times you left for your break once every 14 days, you always come back to a crying Keigo, and a missing mother.

The last time he wrecked the house, there was glass on the floor, footprints on the ceiling, walls painted with... wine? jelly? blood? You don't know, but it was hell to clean, which of course you made lil birb help too.

By questioning him after cleaning everything and then cleaning him, you discovered that his "mother" gave him coffee, and A LOT of it, and went her merry way to meet with someone.

---

To say that you were pissed was a mistake, you were furious, but the commission didn't let you reprehend her, so you had to teach him to not eat and drink something that his mother gave to him, without knowing what it was, and that if he drank coffee he would stop growing, which made him cry, but you promised a day outside with him, where they would eat out, maybe go to a mall, and he could have anything that he wanted.

It was his first time going out to have fun, instead of just going to the gym, or the doctor appointment, so with the 'okay card' from your boss you took him for a stroll, which is why there is a very excited Keigo jumping on your bed at 6am.

"COME. OOOOON!!! WE STILL HAVE A BEAUTIFUL DAY AHEAD OF US!" he shouted while jumping up and down on your bed, his wings flapping behind him.

"Hun, what time it is?" you yawned and sat on the bed.

"It's 6AM! On a Monday!!!"

"I wish you would be this easy to wake up every day, it would make my mornings easier" you huff and got up. "Go wash your face, I will get changed and come to help you change yourself."

"I don't need help! I'm a big boy! I can change myself!" he pouted and crossed his arms.

You smiled at him, seeing how much he opened up to you in comparison to the first day, when he would tremble form how scared he was, and how he talked so little. "I know you can, but you need to put warmer clothes than normal, and it would be better if you didn't pick that awful t-shirt again"

"The one that his written 'Daddy's little boy' with the Endevour's face?" he tilted his head a little.

"Exactly, that one! Now go, we will eat breakfast outside today."

"Woo-hoo!" he raised both hands and was about to jump down to the floor when you held him back and fills his face with kisses "Let me go mommy!" he giggles a lot, and you keep doing it until you decide to release him.

"THE FLOOR IS LAVA!!" You shout and jumps up "If you aren't on your bedroom in 15 seconds the world is going to END!" You say dramatically and open's the door to the laundry room "1... 2... 3... aaaaaand... he's gone" as soon as you opened the door and started the countdown he flew off your small home to his room.

After fixing your bed and washing your face, you went to get changed and choose something comfy, some black jeans, a long sleeved red shirt, a black purse and your favorite beige coat that had white fur on it.

You went to his room to get him ready when you were surprised by the scene, him, Keigo, your baby birb, the cute little shit that was getting more confident with each training, that had the most beautiful smile you had ever seen.

On the floor, curled up in a ball, with a few drops of blood on the ground of the floor, and his mother with her hand in the air, like she was about to hit him...

The world was turning slowly, almost stopping, after three movements of your finger, the one that the nail was always painted black, the dame that had cut the wall.

As the world was moving slowly, you were moving like normal.

5... you calmly walked to Keigo

4... you took him on your arms

3... you put him on the bed

2... you took the pillow case from the pillow

1... you tied both of the hands of Keigo's mother.

The world was back to normal, and Keigo blinked looking at what was now his mother on the ground and you on top of her mobilizing her, while he was no longer on the floor, but on his new fluffy bed that you picked for him "so quick..." he mumbles and look at you with admiration.

You took your phone from your purse, and sat on top of her back "Hello? You saw from the cameras, didn't you? Yeah... I think she needs a few days of vacation... about a week? Okay I let her on the couch then? Thank you, good bye" you turn off the cellphone and look at Keigo who was mouth agape looking at you with shiny eyes. "Let's go?" You smile and pick him up.

"YOU WERE SO AWESOME!!! And didn't you told me to change my clothes?" He hugged your neck

"We can just buy it on the mall but... outside is really cold..." you put him back on the bed and took off your coat "here, I'll lend you my favorite coat, please take good care of it"

He sniffs the coat and is meet by the soft smell of lavender and sweetened coffee.

He looks at you with shiny eyes, "okay!"

You pick him up again and hold his mother's ankle while you drag her to the living room. "Tomorrow is your trainer's day off, so today you can sleep later"

"Woo-hoo!!"

You chuckle and let the woman on the couch, then you go out with him.

"Let's have breakfast and then go out and about"

You carried him to the car, and there you put him on the backseat and when you were going to buckle him up he stopped you.

"Let me do it! I'm a big boy" you nod and watch as he struggles, but after some time does it.

"Good job" you kiss his forehead and goes to the front seat.

As you drive around you put some kids pop, which he sang along to the Disney songs from the movies you showed him.

As you stop at a café that you liked, "Let's go?" He unbuckles himself, and you open the door to him, picking him up again

"I can walk!"

"Not with that bare feet of yours" you tickle his feet which makes him squirm and giggle.

Walking in you take a sit and sat Keigo beside you. "You can get anything, ask away" you took the menu and give it to him "since you learn how to read better I'm sure you can pick what you want"

"Okay!..." he spends 20 minutes  choosing his food, which ended up being a chicken breast sandwich and a soda, you immediately told him no soda in the morning.

"How about some juice?" You offer

"What are you going to drink?" Keigo tilts his head to the side.

"I want to go out and by sweetened coffee from the vending machine, it's my favorite, and no you can't have some"

He giggles and nods "I want strawberry juice!"

"I'm gonna go order it to the cashier, two chicken sandwiches and a strawberry juice"

"Can I pick a dessert?"

"After you eat everything, sure, here play a game on my phone while you wait, I'll be right back" you give him your phone unlocked and go to the cashier.

Keigo is playing on your cellphone when someone approaches him, his little trained feathers don't recognize this person's vibrations, so he looks up and sees a dude with a scary look and long black hair.

They both just stare at each other "sup" Keigo say and discreetly send a feather to you and taps your feet.

You come back to the table and is surprised to see your oldest friend, you give him a big smile "Shouta-niisan!" You hug him, but he only pats your head.

Keigo looks surprised at the interaction, you don't talk about yourself, only the basic and vaguely gives information about what you did before him.

"Is this your kid?" The man looked at Keigo, the man looked like it was around 23 maybe 25.

"Yeah! I'm his-... mom, yeah! I'm his mother" you smile breaking the hug and sat down "too busy to stay?"

He nods and put a can of your favorite sweetened coffee in front of you "You're doing a good job, just be careful, you never know"

You nod back at him and give him a big smile "I will, at least I'm no longer doing patrols, don't forget to call me once a week"

"I never broke a promise, won't start now" he pets your hair and goes away.

Keigo watched the weird transactions extremely curious "Who was him? Is him your older brother? You don't look alike. Why didn't you say goodbye to him? Why does he look like a bun? Why-"

"Enough!" You put your hand on his mouth "He's an old friend, I call him nii-san because I always called him that, no we aren't blood related, he always looked like that, and... we promise to never say goodbye to each other"

"Why?"

"Because a goodbye can be forever, so we just don't say it" a waitress comes to you both and puts everything on the table.

You open the canned coffee and drink it, smiling at him as he eats, you both eat and then went shopping.

...

Keigo could fit in anything, and he would look cute you just loved the way he looked on yellow or beige, they fit well with his red wings.

"Hey mom... I wanted to know if-..." he was scared, uncomfortable maybe? About something.

"You can ask me anything Birb, there is no way that I will not answer" you kneeled on the floor besides him and looked at him through the mirror.

"What's your quirk?" He looked at you while fiddling with his hands.

You smiled at him "It's kinda hard to explain, It's better if I show it to you" you took his hand and paid for the clothing, now that he was with some clothes that were good for the Autumn cold weather.

After getting to the car you drove off to the training gym.

"Why are we here?" Keigo recognized the building quickly.

"My power can be a little destructive, its1better to do this in a place that no one can get hurt" going in you went to your private training room with the little boy following you like a baby duck.

"How destructive?" Keigo held your hand and you held his.

"Very, now stay back" you pressed a bottom on the wall "My quirk needs ink all the time to do anything, and I always have it around me, most likely on my point finger, here I can do almost anything" you made a straight line in the direction of the dummies and cut 3 at the same time, cutting through them.

"Woaaah! What else?" Keigo's wings fluffed up at your awesomeness.

You walk to the middle and make a dot next to him, a huge tree appears from nothing surprising him, he falls to the floor shocked.

"I can also make a path of flowers, and the tree will only stay there for a few seconds, but it can surprise the enemy enough to take them down" you move your finger around under Keigo's feet and there grows some flowers.

"My ability is called Celestial Brush"

"THIS IS SO COOL!" He runs to you, and you pick him up when he's close enough. "MOM YOU ARE AWESOME!"

You look at him surprised and hug him tightly "My son, you are awesome too"

You two stay like that for some time, until he bugs you to show more of your ability,  which you do, you show him each trick and technique you learned until now.

https://youtu.be/BRcfqu3hQkY (your quirk)

(Yes this is your quirk, and everything you can do with it)

After showing him everything  you picked him up and you both go back home to take a shower, eat and sleep.

Those moments in his life were the happiest that Keigo had ever been, always protected by you, he was given the love and affection that he always wanted, he didn't care for everything else, he just cared about you, because you were his true mother, the woman that he would run to when he got himself hurt, to ask about life, to ask about anything really, since you also were his teacher. When he had nightmares you would hold him until he calmed down, would kiss his head, would compliment the small things he had done, and would scout him when he did something wrong.

Keigo loved you more than anything in his life, and Hawks miss you dearly in his, because in the end, you still worked for the commission, and he too didn't have a choice when you went away for an important mission.

The day before your departure you both made a pillow nest in the living room, you induced him on his bird instincts, HD wouldn't have such luxury after you went away.

Neither of you talked about you leaving, instead you showed him your favorite movies, snacks and old latin folktales, the feeling of sadness was there the whole moment.

You tried to give as much advice you could, and only took him off your arms to use the bathroom.

Keigo also didn't wanted to let go of you, both sleep hugging each other, you promised that you would come back as soon as you could, that tou would  ever forgive him if he died while being a hero, that you knew he was build for greatness.

Only when you had to leave that you allowed yourself to cry, at the door with only a backpack in hands, you put your coat on Keigo while he sleep, also letting your diary on his bed, to let him have you all the time.

After tucking him on his nest, you kissed his forehead and kisses his toy's head, going out of that house took a lot of strength, you didn't wanted to go, but duty called, you just hopped it would take less then a year.

. . . . .

But it didn't took a year, it took 18 years to take the ring leader down, and just now you were finally going back to Japan, and to the now number 2 pro hero Hawks.

.............. As you can see there is more to this book

[btsmakesmehappy]

Cookies Charades

Genre: Roommate to Lover, Friends to lover, Fluff, slight angst.

Pairing: Jimin x Reader

Word Count: 4,5k

Rating: PG-13

Warning: the reader is a little insecure, grinch joke, ugly christmas sweater, low budget christmas party, a pandemic quarantine itself is a big warning (Please stay safe!)

Summary: A pandemic quarantine, cookies, a bet, and a night with just the two of you; you and your very own crush who is also your best friend. What could happen?

A/N: this drabble is for @btswriterscollective​ ‘s holiday event! It’s my first time joining an event since I wrote my fics. And this fluffy Christmas fic is dedicated to @lunar-jimin​. Merry Christmas! I’m still new at writing fics so It’ll be a little messy but I hope this will make you happy! - your secret Santa, Rain

also thank you for my beta reader, @arizonapoppy​ Merry Christmas<3

“So what are you doing for Christmas?” Jimin asks casually as he puts chips into his mouth. His eyes are glued to the TV which plays Princess Diaries out of nowhere, and you’re pretty sure that both of you don’t even pay any attention to the movie. Today is supposed to be your movie night with your best friends, just wine, and a lot of food, and maybe some board games if you can’t find anything to watch. But since the pandemic, you can’t just barge into your friends’ home easily. That’s why you are stuck in your apartment with your roommate, Jimin.

You’ve been living with him for two years, introduced by mutual friends. You searched for an apartment, Jimin looked for a roommate, it was perfect. There was just a little thing that your friends knew: that you had a crush on him.

Well, who doesn’t?

Jimin is hot, smart, and cute all merged into a fine man. A fine man with a body that makes other men envious. It’s unfair too that he is also kindhearted. It’s like everything you need for a man, you can find in him.

Jimin is like a chameleon. He can be a nerd in the morning, and a fuckboy in the evening. He can be a bulky gym-addicted man to start and then turns into a cuddly soft boy in the space of minutes. He can be a boy that an older woman loves, or a strong-fatherly figure that girls would obsess over. He cooks, he cleans, and he also takes care of you when you’re sick.

He is so perfect. So fucking perfect.

That’s why it’s hard for you to not fall in love with him, not when he is just a room away from you, and not when he becomes your best friend so very soon. It’s like Universe wants to torture you. Like the Universe sees an opportunity to mess with your heart, let alone your relationship with people.

Yes. You’re in love with your best friend who is also your roommate.

You like him, a lot, to the point that your hand goes clammy whenever he’s close to you. To the point that his scent after shower raises your heartbeat. To the point that you feel a stab of pain to your chest whenever he comes home with Jisoo.

You sip your wine slowly. “I might be skiing again right now, if we weren’t in a pandemic.” Your eyes wander to the photo frame above the TV; it was when you were on a skiing trip with your friends last winter.

“Do you want to do something with me then?” He turns his head to face you, eyes twinkling in excitement.

“Sure, why not?” you shrug. “We’re going to do these for Christmas, after all. So yeah, just make an appointment for that.”

Jimin snatches the wine glass from you and puts it on the shaky table in front of you so clumsily that he almost makes it fall and colors your cheap white carpet red. “That’s not what I meant! Let’s just make a small Christmas celebration just the two of us. We should bake, cook, and decorate!”

“Won’t it be bothersome, though?” You’re actually pretty worn out. Your finals have just ended, all of your assignments and papers are all submitted. Not to mention you just finished your internship program for this semester, because somehow they didn’t cancel the program because of the pandemic. You were pretty busy. What you really want is just food and your bed. Celebrating Christmas? Maybe it’s just a privilege for you.

“Come on!” he whines. “It’ll be fun! This is the first Christmas, just the two of us!”

And maybe the last one, you think. Staying with Jimin has been hard for your heart. You’re supposed to move this year. You’ve searched the possible rooms, looking for extra jobs to afford it, and anything you need to rent the new room. But again, because of the pandemic, that plan will be postponed. There’s no way you would move at the time like this. So, yeah. Maybe this Christmas would be a nice memory. “Fine. So what should we buy then?”

The corners of his eyes crinkle with his widening smile. “Should we exchange gifts? What do you want for Christmas?”

You fold your arms, thinking. “Ehm. I know! I read it online earlier this morning, there’s a discount in the supermarket for instant noodles. Can you believe it? Buy three get two for free!”

“That’s not what I meant!” he whines. “Clothes? Books?”

“Not really; Why would I buy clothes when I spent most of my days in the apartment? And besides I’m broke.” Well, you’re not lying. Even though you’re gonna spend Christmas away from your family, it doesn't mean you won’t send them gifts, and with those pricey gifts and delivery fees; yeah, it costs you a little more than you’re expected.

Jimin pouts. “Fine… So no exchanging gifts then. Well, Christmas Eve is tomorrow anyway, there’s no way we can find gifts in such a short notice.”

You poke his sides playfully, “come on don’t be sad. And I remember you said something about baking?”

He smiles widely and rises from the couch. He walks inside his bedroom and returns with a legal pad in his hand. “What about decoration? I believe we can still find a Christmas tree downtown,” he suggests as he scribbles his ideas on the pad.

Your hand automatically stops his moving hand. “Let’s skip the Christmas tree. It’ll be too expensive. How about we just make paper chains or something like that?”

“Why? It’ll be like an investment! We can use it next year.”

“I know, but…” You bite your lips, hesitant to tell him. “It’s just…”

Jimin looks at you for a moment and then draws an X on the pad. “Fine. No decoration. Let’s keep our budget to minimum then. What about food?”

“I’m not sure. With all of the baking we’ll do, it’ll be a mess if we decided to cook too.”

Jimin taps his pencil on his chin. “You’re right. Let’s order pizza and chicken then?”

You give him a thumb up and pat his shoulder. “Okay. We should go shopping in the morning.” A yawn leaves your mouth and you rise from the couch. “Well, I’m going to retire for the night. Good night.”

“So early?” He looks at you with a raised eyebrow and then to your abandoned glass of wine. “Fine. See you tomorrow.”

You give him a wave and head to your room. With the weight in your heart, you plop on your bed and sigh. Again, you missed the chance to tell him that you’re going to move out. Your mind wonders whether it’s a good idea to spend Christmas Eve tomorrow with him. Just the thought of that makes your heart race again.

Get your head straight, Y/N!

He is your best friend. Control your feelings!

Just hang in there a little more, Y/N.

Hang in there…

You’re awakened by the sound of metal crashing outside your room. You grunt as you reach the phone, eyes widening when you see that it’s noon already. You rise and walk outside to look for Jimin.

“Hello, Sleepyhead.”

You rub your eyes slowly and stretch your body. You were asleep for more than twelve hours, and instead of energizing you, it physically drained you. Your body aches. “Why didn’t you wake me up?” you ask hoarsely.

Jimin smiles as he hands you a mug of hot chocolate. Even if it’s noon already, it’s still winter and sure a hot beverage wouldn’t hurt. And the time and weather on your phone says it’s actually colder than yesterday, which is why even Jimin wears a thick black turtleneck instead of his usual pajamas. Not that you’re complaining about it. He looks good, like very good. And he just stands out perfectly in your all-white kitchen. “Because I know you’re tired. I feel bad, too, because you did this because I asked you. I’m sorry. And besides, you’re scary when I wake you up by force.”

You sit on the counter, collecting warmth by holding the mug. “Thank you. But don’t feel bad. I agreed to do it, too. So, if you give me fifteen minutes we can go to shopping-”

“That’s not needed anymore.”

Your eyes widen in surprise as your lips touch the hot chocolate, dripping some of it from your mouth. “But.. I thought we’re gonna bake cookies?”

“Yes, we are.” He cleans your chin with his thumb slowly, makes you jolt a little at his touch. The way he licks his thumb casually afterward is not helping at all. “But I already went for groceries!”

“I see, but you should just wait for me. We could go together.” You blow the beverage to cool it down and sip it slower than before.

His hand travels to your cheek and pinches it softly. “That’s fine. So just wake up already and help me bake!”

You look puzzled and yet you walk back again to your room, leaving him humming Christmas songs in the kitchen. You lean on the back of your door after you close it. Your face feels hotter as if you can still feel his fingers on your face. Smooth and warm. The warmth slowly fills your chest and makes you hard to breathe. It’s like magic. And it's even more magical that you still can stand even though your knees are all wobbly.

You shake your head to clear your mind, to clear any unnecessary thoughts, and head to the bathroom. This is going to be a hard day.

Fifteen minutes later, you go back to the kitchen, finding Jimin playing with his iPad. “What cookies should we make?” you ask as you lean on the counter, head propped on your chin. You’re wearing your Christmas sweater that your mom sent you earlier this year. It has a Grinch on the front of it and a huge Christmas tree on the back. It screams ugly in every Christmas sweater contest. You’re supposed to wear this together with your family, sitting together in front of a fireplace. Since it’s not going to happen, at least the sweater can give you some warmth this Christmas.

He lifts his head up and his eyes fall on your green sweater. “It suits you really well, not gonna lie.” He throws his head back in laughter.

His laughter again sways your heart, stealing your breath. You hit him softly on his shoulder and tie your hair loosely in a low ponytail. “Shut up. So what should we make?”

“It’s gingerbread cookies! We can decorate them too. I bought like a dozen cookie cutters just for this day.” He opens a plastic box to show you proudly.

You pick some of the cookie cutters, trying to identify the shapes. “Are you sure you picked the right shapes? Isn’t this like a mermaid-ocean-package?”

“What?” He immediately scans the box and sighs. “Fuck, I’m sure I picked from the right shelf. I’m sorry.”

“What are you apologizing for? Maybe some people are mixing it up. That’s fine!” You pat his shoulder reassuringly.

Jimin grabs all of the cookie cutters and stuffs them into their box. “Just wait for an hour. I’m gonna have this exchanged.”

You grab his arms to stop him from walking away. “Don’t bother. They’re still cookies and edible even though they’re in different shapes. I mean, mermaids celebrate Christmas too, don’t they? In any case, it doesn’t really matter.”

“It does matter!” He pouts. “It’s our first Christmas together, I want it to be perfect.”

You chuckle. “Why would you want that?”

He sighs and scratches the back of his head. “I just feel we’ve been too distant lately, and you look very tired. I just want to make you happy.”

You freeze for a moment as you look at his face. A hopeful thought sneaks to your mind and you clear it immediately. “We can just make our shapes then. You know, just cut it with a knife or a toothpick or anything.”

He looks you back in the eyes, waiting for another reassurement. “Really?”

You smile. “Yes, it would be fun, making our own shapes. Besides, we don’t need perfect-shaped cookies just to make our Christmas perfect, do we?”

He returns your smile with a wider smile and pulls you into his chest. “Alright. Thank you, Y/N.”

You’re again puzzled with the sudden act and clear your throat as you pat his back. “Alright let’s bake some cookies then.”

He releases you immediately with pinkish cheeks.. “By the way, I’ve already mixed all of the ingredients a few hours ago, just so you know. The dough needed to be chilled.”

“Really? So I’m going to just cut them out and decorate it?”

“Yep.” He opens the fridge and pulls out a bowl of brown mixture. He scoops some flour with his hands to the counter and throws down the cookie dough. “Don’t worry I’ve cleaned the counter a few times.”

You’re not a cook yourself but you know a thing or two about cooking and baking. You baked cookies a lot when you're a kid, but as an adult? Not so much. So you just watch Jimin using his rolling pin to thin the dough with admiration on your face.

“What’re you doing? You should help me!”

“Oh right.” You laugh and walk to the sink to wash your hands. You snatch the rolling pin from his hand and start rolling it slowly. “Let me roll this.”

“Wait a minute.” He walks to the cabinet nearest you and grabs an apron. “Don’t want the Grinch to be dirty.” He unfolds the apron and throws the loop over your head.

You hold a breath when he touches your sides to tie the apron around your waist. You clear your throat just so you can distract yourself from the shivers that come from the feeling of his breath on your neck. “Is this fine?”

He pulls away from you. Looking around your shoulder, he eyes the dough. “I think this is the perfect thickness.”

“So how do you want to shape it?” Your hand moves to the corner of the tempting brown dough to rip it and puts it on your mouth, letting the dough melt on your tongue. You open the drawer to search for a small knife. “I’m thinking a puppy would be cute, but without the proper cutter, I’m afraid it’d turn out horrendous.”

“Oh my God, I just have a nice idea!“ He claps his hands together, eyes twinkling. “Should we have a competition then? ‘Who’d make the best identifiable cookies’. It would be like charades!”

You chuckle. “That’s like totally random. I think you hang out with Taehyung too much.” The second bite you ate is sweeter and all you can taste is just sweetness and the ginger. Did I taste some cinnamon in there?

He smiles proudly. “I think we can ask Taehyung to guess. What topic should we use… Animals would be too easy. How about food?”

“Fine! What’d the winner get?” you ask as your hand moves again towards the dough, but Jimin slaps it lightly.

“Why do you keep eating that? It has raw egg for god’s sake. Anyway, I think...” he rubs his chin and leaves a hint of flour on it, thinking. “What about the loser should grant the winner’s wish?”

You pout and use your sleeve to clean his chin. “A wish? Sure, but we should make some rule-”

“Make that three wishes,” he grins.

“Three??” your jaw drops.

He takes a step forward, forcing you to step back. Your hip bumps the counter as he reaches out his hand. “Are you afraid to lose, Y/N?”

You laugh in amazement. “No. Three wishes just for today,” you reply as you move closer to him and accept his hand. “Deal.”

After hours of baking the cookies, letting them cool off, and decorating them, it’s time to play the cookie charades, as Jimin named it. Both of you have written all of the answers on a piece of paper so it’d be fair, and no one can change the answer later.

Jimin holds his phone as he waits for Taehyung to answer the video calls. Just after a few rings, Taehyung picks up the phone. “What’s up Jimin? Aren’t you with Y/N?”

“Hey Tae!” you wave at the phone when Jimin shows it to you. “What are you doing? We miss you!”

“Nothing. I just played games for twenty -four hours straight so I’m resting my eyes right now. What do you want?”

Jimin clears his throat and faces the camera. “So, Y/N and I are baking cookies, and we want you to guess the shapes. It’s kind of a battle.”

Taehyung grunts. “Why would I want to get involved in your rivalry? It’s so bothersome.”

“If I win I can give you one of my wishes!” you chime in, snatching the phone from Jimin’s hand.

“Yah! That’s bribing.” Jimin yells.

You scoff. “Fine! Pretty please?”

Taehyung rolls his eyes and sighs. “Fine. Let’s just get this over with.”

Jimin snatches his phone again and flips the camera. “Alright, thirty seconds on the clock each part and you should answer as many cookies as you can. To be fair, we’re not telling you whose cookies they are. Do you understand?”

“Yes. Can we do this immediately?”

You open your timer on your phone and set to thirty seconds. “Alright, one two three. Start!”

The first cookie’s shaped like a circle, but decorated with multiple colors. It has a brown-black stripe, red stripe, and green stripe stacked between two brown-yellowish stripes. “Hmmm, Hamburger?” Taehyung answers.

“Correct!”

The second one is also a circle with a light brown color, with a little orange accent on it. “What’s that… a potato?” he squints his eyes as he looks at his phone screen closely.

“Wrong, it’s a hotteok.”

“The fuck I should know? It’s nothing like hotteok!” Taehyung rants on the other line, seemingly excited about the game.

“Just answer it! Fifteen seconds left!”

The rest fifteen seconds and another thirty seconds flew fast and Jimin concluded the game as he waves to Taehyung. “Alright, Tae. Thank you for playing with us. I hope to see you soon!” Jimin yells.

“So who’s the winner? Ya-” Taehyung asks as Jimin hangs up the phone.

Jimin puts his phone inside his pocket and looks at the answer sheets. “So, the first one has four rights and the second one has three rights. So that means…”

You bite the inside of your cheeks to control your emotion, but looking at Jimin’s face, you’re losing it. “FINE! You win!”

Jimin smiles wider as he jumps happily. “Of course I’d win!”

“I still think that putting Sprite as a question is cheating.” You cross your arms over your chest. “It’s not even a food!”

He laughs again mockingly, “It is if I say it is.”

You pout. “Fine, whatever. What are your wishes then? Remember, that those wishes are only valid until midnight.”

Jimin walks to the couch and sits with a smug expression on his face. “Let’s start with cleaning all of those cookie sheets and mixing bowls.” He picks up a remote and turns the TV on to play some movies. “Start cleaning, Cinderella!”

You sigh as you look at the piled-up dishes. Why did I even agree in the first place? you mumble quietly as you brush the crumbs from the pan and the hardened icing from the bowls. And the fact that it is filled with icing sugar before only makes it harder to clean. You scowl as you run them under the hot water, leaning in to scrub them more harshly.

“Don’t be mad, Y/N. You can win it next year,” Jimin reassures as he bites into his cookies. His voice is only half-mocking.

You slam the bowl into the sink with a clang, sending a cloud of bubbles across the counter. “Yeah, right. Like I would want to visit your apartment next year.”

“You what?” he asks, his voice blurred with the sound of the song coming from the TV. He turns his head to look at you weirdly.

You freeze, realizing that you just blurted the one thing you don’t want him to know. “Nothing,” you reply as you continue to wash the dishes, avoiding his gaze.

Jimin rises from the sofa and turns the TV off. He walks back to the kitchen and grabs your arm harshly, forcing you to look at him. “What do you mean?” His voice is cold, the smile vanished from his face.

“It’s nothing.” You try to brush his hand away and continue washing the dishes, but his grip tightens.

“I said, what do you mean?”

You take a deep breath. The scrubber slips from your hand under the water as you turn to face him. “I think I’m going to move out from this apartment.”

“What? Why?” His forehead creases. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No. Not at all. You’re a perfect roommate.” You clear your throat awkwardly. “It’s just, something happened.” You reach for the scrubber again.

He pulls at your sleeve, and you look at him again. “What happened? Is it a money thing? If it is, don’t worry about it. You don’t even have to pay right now. Just tell me.” His mouth is pursed with worry and your head roils with a sudden guilty feeling.

You shake your head weakly. “No, it’s not something like that. I’m fine.”

“Then why are you not telling me? I’m your best friend!”

“IT IS BECAUSE YOU’RE MY BEST FRIEND!” you yell, yanking your sleeve from his hand.

“What? What do you mean?” he demands.

You control your breaths. “Nothing.” You turn the faucet off and stomp towards your room. Jimin’s hand grabs you again before you get two steps, stopping you from leaving him. The warmth of his hand seeps into your body. You feel nauseous. You need to stay away from him right now. “I need some time alone.”

He bites his lips, annoyed with your answer. “Well, then you have to tell me what’s wrong.” He steps closer to you, eyes glaring. “It’s my second wish.”

“That’s not fair. I--” Tears threaten to fall at your sudden exposure.

“Tell me, Y/N. You promised me you’d gran-”

“I LIKE YOU, OKAY?” You confess as tears fall from your cheeks. Your knees turn weak after you let it out, and you slump at the counter. The secret that holds your relationship together, that makes you the way it was. It’s over for you and Jimin.

Jimin steps back from you, loosening his grip around your hand. “You what? Then why would you move out?” he asks softly.

Your fists tighten to stop your tears from falling even more. “I tried to not like you, but it is too hard, Jimin. I can’t control my feelings. I’m sorry. I really wanted to be your best friend and also your roommate, but I just ca-”

Your words are interrupted with his lips crashing on yours, catching you off guard. His lips are soft and you can taste the cinnamon-sweetness from the cookies mixed with the saltiness of your tears. Just when you try to comprehend what’s going on, he pulls away. His hands find their rest on your face and cup it gently, swiping any tears leaving from your eyes. He rests his forehead against yours and sighs. “You’re stupid.”

“Wha-what? Why?” you stutter, throat drying because of the sudden closeness.

“Why do you think I chose you to be my roommate?” His warmth spreads to your cheeks, sending another hope to you. His gaze softens and you gather all of your courage to meet him back. “It’s because I like you too.”

Again you freeze on the spot. Eyes widening, breath stopping. And it makes Jimin giggle. “I always liked you, Y/N.” He leans in and gives a chaste kiss on your nose and moves downward to plant another on your lips.

“Bu-but I thought you.. With Jisoo….” There’s no way Jimin would like you. It doesn’t make any sense. You pull away from him. “Stop playing with me.”

Jimin pulls you in his chest, resting his chin on your head. “I don’t know what you are talking about, Y/N. There’s never been another woman. It's always been you.” He takes a deep breath, and continues. “Jisoo is my cousin, and she knows about my feelings.”

“Cousin?”

“Yes. She sometimes crashes at our apartment when she has a fight with her boyfriend, who is, by the way, none other than our dear friend Taehyung.” Jimin smiles and pulls away, but keeps his arms holding your waist close to him. “And even though she sleeps here, I always take the couch. She always leaves early in the morning because Taehyung picks her up. Their relationship is a little weird, if I may say so.”

“Taehyung?”

“Look I can even call my family members just to prove it to you, if it’s what you want.”

You shake your head, looking lost. You know Jimin is telling you the truth, but still you can’t believe that he likes you. Like he actually likes you.

“I was going to tell you tonight, but this somehow happened.” He calls your name softly to gain your attention. “So yeah, I like you a lot. And don’t ask me ‘since when’, because I don’t even know the answer. It just grows each day and each moment I spend with you.”

And just like that relief washes in you along with your tears. All of the thoughts you have of losing Jimin are vanished. All of your doubts are answered. You bury your head in his shoulder.

Jimin laughs and hugs you tighter. “Why are you crying?” He strokes your back to calm you down as you sob in his chest. “It must have been bothering you a lot, does it? I’m sorry it took me so long to tell you this.”

“I’m not stupid.” You sniffle as you put your arms around him, hugging him back.

“Sure, you’re not.” He laughs again and kisses the top of your head lovingly. “So, here’s my third wish.”

Your eyes widen with the sudden change of topic, looking at him in confusion. “Like right now? Wha-what is it?”

He looks directly to your eyes, gaze softens each time he takes a deep breath. And with this proximity, you can hear his heart racing inside his chest, playing the rhythm answered with your own beat. Not even a Christmas carol can top this symphony. Not when the world is only yours and Jimin. Not when is just you and Jimin, and nothing else matters.

And finally, Jimin opens his lips slowly. “Be my girlfriend?”

Thank you for reading! Hope you all have a merry christmas!!

[missinghan]

give it a chance ⤖ lee minho

❖ genre : college au; roommates au; friends to lovers au

❖ word count : 9,6k.

❖ warning : explicit language, slightly suggestive & mentions of alcohol

❖ summary : you convinced yourself to attend a party in order to prevent Lee Minho from doing stupid things; however it’s not so stupid anymore when your roommate said he needed to tell you something important.

❖ a/n : the continuation of what if we is dedicated to @chaninfused, so *clears throat* this is where I hereby declare that she deserves more than what the entire universe can possibly give her; oh hi furat, this is why I’ve been so cryptic all this time. I know this isn’t much but I want to thank you for tolerating me and letting me be mean to you even though we only started talking for a few months; you’re an incredibly great friend and an amazing writer, don’t ever forget that 🖤

one.

It’s been almost a week since Jisung last talked to Minho (albeit texts and FaceTime) and he wakes up to his best friend roaming around his crusty kitchen, struggling to find a bottle of honey. Seungmin’s mom has been constantly sending them thirty packets of rib soup per week. And Minho thinks the sight of Han Jisung slurping on nothing but distorted rice with pork ribs while stressing over his paper for seven days straight is more tragic than his non-existent love life.

“It’s like you’re trying to turn us into gym rats,” Hyunjin snickers lazily, flinging his bangs away from his face. “You even brought us Tupperwares, are you really expecting us not to order tacos impulsively on study nights?” He’s a little dubious about stuff like this because he can feel the actual horror of only eating chicken breast and string beans just by seeing Chan cooking them up. 

Seungmin chucks a piece of lettuce towards his direction, “Don’t you have anything else to do other than complaining?” He knows that when Jisung and Hyunjin decide to order food on study nights, they’re gonna do anything but study.

“Uhm, I actually do,” he replies nonchalantly. “I’m going through Minho’s phone.”

Jisung takes a seat next to him by the counter, propping his head onto his hands, “What’s the point? There’s nothing but cat photos and cat memes...and also Y/N as his background.”

“That angle is hideous, by the way,” Hyunjin comments like the true photography geek he is, which is completely ignored by Minho because he’s too cranky to start a fight at ten in the morning. “But it’s kinda cute for you to do that, so I’m gonna turn a blind eye.”

Jisung asks out of the blue, “Who’s going to BamBam’s party this Sunday? Well, besides the other two-thirds of 3RACHA.” 

“I have a midterm on Monday, dumbass,” Seungmin mumbles while washing his vegetables at the sink. 

“And I’m sleeping over at Lix’s for a project,” Hyunjin informs him lamely, having no intention to attend another single frat party. At least not BamBam’s frat parties—that guy has the weirdest friends; a chick was so drunk that she thought Hyunjin was her boyfriend and almost tried to make out with him on the dance floor. 

Jisung secretly hates going to parties without his friends- no, actually, he never goes to parties without people from his social circle because he dreads the whole introduction part that requires formalities and inevitable awkwardness. But it’s not like that with Minho, ten minutes into their very first conversation and he feels like he’s known him for years. 

In short, he will die if Minho doesn’t come to the party. Chan can only chat with him for so long until his DJ duty occurs and Changbin’s probably gonna be too busy doing keg stands to care about his antisocial friend. 

“Fine, I’ll go,” Minho gives in while chopping up the chicken breasts and this prompts Jisung to clap happily like a seal for the next twenty seconds as he skips over to the fridge to fetch a water bottle. “But we’re gonna need a ride, I’m not taking my motorbike for some crackhead to puke on it. Ask Chan later when you crash at his place.”

Jisung tosses his head back to take a peek at the clock hanging by the bookshelf, and it reads 10:07 AM. He really should be getting for his class at eleven because traffic sucks but he’s not feeling like sitting through two hours of Park ranting about marketing strategies. “Can’t Y/N just drive us? I don’t think she’d let anyone else take you home when you’re not sober,” he ponders, earning a nod of agreement from both of his roommates. 

Just when Minho opens his mouth to brush it off, he stops himself to process the information again and holds back a ‘you’re right’ because he hates letting people know that they’re not wrong. He wouldn’t let anyone drive you home when you’re drunk either. “Her car’s with her dad right now,” he tries to sound casual when three pairs of curious eyes are glued onto his back. “I, uh, sorta had it run into a tree last week.”

“You what? How are you still alive?” Hyunjin’s jaw is on the floor and Seungmin accidentally dumps too much vinegar into his salad while Jisung’s choking on the iced cold water, coughing furiously after into the sleeve of his hoodie. Guess Chan’s gonna have to drive them both. After all, he can never say ‘no’ to J.One. 

Minho murmurs, “A dude rear-ended me, fucking idiot.” He finishes marinating the chicken breasts and arranges them nicely onto a tray with aluminum foil on top, pushing it into the preheated oven. “And basically she’s never letting me touch her car again,” he sighs while staring into midair dreamily, flashbacking to last Friday when you immediately Ubered yourself all the way from campus to downtown after picking up his call. All he got was thirty seconds of affection; you made sure that he’s not hurt and the rest was just a monstrous tantrum. He ended up sleeping on the couch that night. 

“My my, you two are just like an old married couple,” Hyunjin chuckles lightheartedly and shakes his head, scrolling through the series of texts in amusement, “What even is this? I swear your conversation consists of 60% ‘when are you going home?’, 40% ‘your lunch is here’ and 20% terrible cat memes.”

“We’re roommates,” Minho drags the word through gritted teeth, holding back all the murderous thoughts inside his head because he feels like Hyunjin’s just asking for a death wish. It’s too early for this. 

Unexpectedly, Seungmin decides he’s in a pretty good mood today since he aced his OChem pop quiz yesterday; meaning, he’s gonna stick his nose into his friend’s business whenever there’s a chance. “Don’t you guys share a bed too?” he pretends to play dumb only to receive a kick in the shin from the older boy. 

“We’re also broke,” Minho cranes his neck tiredly, washing the dirty knife under the tap. “Besides, the heater in the living room sucks.”

“You both even smell the same, it’s getting kinda creepy. Please don’t tell me you guys also share showers to have a light water bill,” Jisung makes a gagging noise and Minho thinks he’s already said too much. His grip on the knife tightens for a split second before letting it drop into the sink. He doesn’t trust himself with anything sharp the moment Hyunjin started this unwanted conversation. He also regrets stealing Changbin’s meal prep recipes to feed his trash friends. 

Minho questions callously, “We just use the same shampoo and shower gel, what’s the big deal?” His hands go for the box of oatmeal that Felix left here last time in the cabinet full of random food. He doesn’t get why Seungmin would buy so much groceries like he’s in a pandemic knowing damn well that his idiotic roommates can’t cook for shit. 

Hyunjin purses his lips, trying to prove his point, “Don’t you think that it’s weird? You don’t do those things with us.”

“Because none of you would fucking house me when I was on the verge of being homeless!”

“And why is she yelling at you through texts anyway? Bro, there’s like ten missed calls here with at least a hundred ‘where are you?’. Why is she terrorizing you this early in the morning?” Minho immediately snaps out of his semi-angry trance, chest heaving up and down. 

“Oh shit,” he facepalms himself. “I promised to pick her up at ten from class, what time is it again?”

“You’re fifteen minutes late, my friend,” Jisung supplies unhelpfully. “It’ll take another ten to arrive at campus, without traffic that is. You’re so dead. D-E-A-D.” It feels weird to hear something correct coming out of Jisung’s mouth (twice in a row) and now Minho wishes he could just whack his friend unconscious on the floor with the new set of microphones that Chan gave him last year for Secret Santa. 

“Oh, I left your rice sitting at ‘warm’, by the way,” Minho makes a grab for his biker jacket and helmet on the counter before fleeing out of the apartment with his sneakers half-way tucked in. It’s not even been thirty minutes since they’ve seen each other for the past week and Jisung’s already choked on water, not once, but twice because of Lee Minho. Sometimes he wonders if the universe is telling him that he needs new friends. 

two. 

“Your boyfriend is late.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you hiss at Yeji while staring at Minho’s contact on your phone anxiously. There’s no reason for you to be; worst-case scenario, you can just take the 0325 home and lock him outside for the night so that he’ll have no choice but to endure Chan’s embarrassing sleeping habits. He wouldn’t even notice either way because he’d be too busy swearing in his sleep to be annoyed. 

Yeji puts her hair up into a ponytail after stretching her limbs tiredly. She only has one class today and no choice but to stay on campus for her shift at the café before lunch break. Too bad Woojin can’t cover her today because of midterms. “I’m only speaking facts,” she tells you with a yawn and notices the slight pout on your face. “Hey, don’t be sad just because your stupid boyfriend can’t pick you up. I can call Chaeryeong if you need a ride here and there, she wouldn’t mind.”

“I’m not fucking sad!”

“Y/N, you look more depressed than Ryujin when she got a B+ in calc.” That’s irrelevant, Shin Ryujin already has a GPA booster after signing up for Kim’s stats class, one B+ won’t make it any less sparkly.

You only let out a prolonged sigh after checking your phone for the tenth time in the past half an hour. He isn’t picking up any of your calls, your messages probably can’t even reach him and now you’re sitting at M.I.A Cafe with a cup of plain water after standing outside at the front gate for so long like an idiot. An idiot, who’s hopelessly in love with her roommate- wait what? 

Listen, you already know that this is going to happen. It’s awfully inevitable and it’s getting harder and harder as the days pass by because summer is almost here. Meaning, Minho’s gonna move out soon, according to the contract. 

Are you sad about that? 

Yeah, kinda.

The more you think about it the more you regret your decision that day to let him stay with you. Because now you don’t think you’d be able to sleep without him next to you, hogging the blanket all to himself; you get angsty when he’s not home even if he’s just at dance practice; you’re definitely getting way too used to sharing an earphone with him while you both are dreading your assignments silently at the kitchen counter. And now you’re getting nervous just because he’s thirty minutes late. He’s never late, not even to your Monday Movie Night where you both can pig out and binge-watch the Avatar: The Last Airbender series until you’re sick of it. 

Maybe you’re relying on him too much. Hypothetically speaking, it’s not his fault for the damage of your car but you’re just making excuses to be with him. You even set him as your emergency contact. It’s kinda tedious to be your roommate, you realize. All of those things aren’t mandatory and he can simply mind his own business without having to feel obligated because of the ‘roommates’ label yet he’d still choose you, over everything else. Perhaps he’s dealing with his own first world problems and forgot to leave you a message this time. 

Yeji inquires breezily, wiping a cup dry with a towel, “Also, are you going to BamBam’s party this weekend?”

“For me to carry your ass home after getting shitfaced and sit through another two-hour lecture from Lia? I’ll pass thank you very much.”

She indicates with a quirk of her perfectly dark brow, “What if I tell you that Minho’s gonna be there?” Now she sounds like she’s the one who’s crushing on Lee Minho and not you. Never knew that your friends can be this creepy but the more you learn… “Jisung just told me he found a plus one aka Mister Celebrity to attend that frat party with, you wouldn’t have the heart to let me be the loner right?” she pouts with her nose scrunched and it reminds you too much of Light Fury so you look away, knowing that you wouldn’t stand a goddamn chance if she kept this up.

“How is that my problem?” you merely roll your eyes, slightly annoyed. “And also, isn’t Jisung supposed to have his marketing class now?”

Yeji doesn’t give a damn about what on Earth Han Jisung is doing with his life so she just brushes your question off. “Would you let Minho drink irresponsibly?”

You nod without hesitation, though it feels wrong coming out of your mouth, “He can do whatever he wants...as long as my carpet remains clean after his hangover.”

“Would you let me drink irresponsibly?”

“The same goes for you,” you tell her monotonously. “And I only picked you up because Lia sounded like she was hyperventilating when you attended that one law brat’s birthday party. Na Jaemin, wasn’t it? Hate that guy, by the way.”

Yeji thinks it’s time for you to open up even more and not despise people that much. Having Lee Minho as your roommate is already a huge step-up but it’s not like there have been any modifications to your routine except the fact that another human being is simply enduring your bitchy ass of a loner. She wants you to be really out there, just not messing with shit like doing keg stands because Seo Changbin is a terrible influence. Woojin once had to drop his shift at the sushi place to drive Jeongin home because Changbin left him hanging on the beanbag chair for a game of beer pong. Jeongin has never gone to another single party since. 

“You hate literally everyone!” Yeji’s getting impatient, you can feel it.

“Are you telling me it’s my fault that people are shitty?” you bark, massaging the sides of your temple tiredly. You wish you could just drop the entirety of your current presentation to Yeji because your brain cells are already evaporating one by one into thin air.

She barks back, merely sneering, “C’mon! Y/N, it’s not like you ever have plans for the weekend.”

“But I’m having midterms on Monday, I didn’t spend my time on those notes for nothing.”

She shakes her head at you almost in disapproval. Sure, you’re a coward for backing out on this because BamBam’s no stranger to you. That Thai kid has been hanging out with Chan since middle school and he always offers to buy you coffee whenever you happen to drop by as they’re working on a project together. He’s a nice guy, but you don’t know him that well. Something in your gut is telling you that he has weird friends (he totally does). And you’re not about to overdrink only to blurt out an awful confession to Minho while being surrounded by a bunch of crackheads that aren’t in your social sphere.

“I heard kids are vapi-” Yeji stops herself, thinking she should just give up, and get ready for the next batch of sleep-deprived customers coming in at lunch break before Jeongin chucks an avocado at her direction for chit-chatting too much about your gigantic crush on Minho. “Nevermind, it’s not like you’d care anyway, have fun with reviewing I guess.” And with that, she leaves you alone with the cup of plain water to dump the used coffee grounds in the trash.

It takes you at least ten seconds to comprehend what she just said. And you’ve come up with a new yet very last-minute decision: screw midterm because you’re making sure that Lee Minho’s going home in one piece. 

Very timely, your phone buzzes on the wooden counter.

[10:38 AM]

lino | hey you still on campus?

three.

The blush scattered across your cheekbones just grows ten shades darker when you see Minho at the front gate leaning against his black Kawasaki; disheveled hair, hands stuffed inside his pockets, occasional puffs of smoke escaping his lips, and unbothered gaze. You’ve never told him this, you’re not telling him this now, and you’re never gonna tell him; but he looks stupidly good in that biker jacket. Again, you don’t get how someone can look this good early in the morning. 

“What are you doing here?” you murmur grimly, approaching him from behind. It feels like he’s doing this to your heart on purpose, without even trying. And those girls over there are making you very uncomfortable by eyeing your roommate up and down like he’s an expensive piece of steak with a gold leaf sticking to it.

Minho turns sideways and flashes you a smile; your little heart just did a perfect cartwheel because of that, it can only take so much. “Sorry, I kinda lost track of time, but I still promised to pick you up, didn’t I?” he says casually as your face morphs into a deep frown because you’re basically confused. The only problem is: you don’t even know why you’re confused. There’s this fluttering feeling at the pit of your stomach and now you feel as though someone just gives you a blow to the head when Minho looks straight into your eyes, brows slightly knitted together.

This is not healthy. 

“You didn’t answer my calls or my texts.”

Minho thinks you look cuter than usual when you’re silently fuming because you’re not the type to lash out on people. But it’s not so cute anymore when you threatened to flush his AirPods down the toilet that one time when he spilled ketchup on your carpet. He just hopes he doesn’t end up sleeping on the couch tonight like last time. 

“I put my phone on silent, as always,” he reminds you of how much of a pain in the ass it is to receive a call-back or a simple reply from him. 

You make a face, “Whatever, didn’t I tell you not to make a scene? Have you seen those chicks back there? They’re watching me as if I’m sabotaging their dreams of eating you alive.” Well, you can’t exactly blame your roommate for having girls gushing over him wherever he goes because...it’s his fault for looking like a snack all the time. 

Minho quickly detects how you’re not overly fond of his admirers and needless to say, he’s fairly amused. “Then let them,” he puts an arm over your shoulders and pulls you flushed against him, ruffling your hair. Moments later, you’re already hearing scandalous gasps along with hushed whispers going through your eardrums like a never-ending train. It’s really setting your nerves on fire. 

“Don’t you think that this is weird?”

“What?” Now it’s Minho who’s confused here. 

You slightly push him away and avert your gaze elsewhere to avoid eye contact. “We’re roommates, right?” you mumble, slightly unsure about...all of this. 

“Hmm, what about it?”

“Well, I don’t know…” you fiddle with the hem of your jacket and sigh. “What if people keep getting the wrong idea about us?” You sound somewhat regretful as if your decision of taking him in as your roommate was a mistake, as if you feel like it’s better off if he wasn’t in your life at all, as if the past month was completely meaningless. Since when did things become this complicated? It started with a harmless one-month contract and now Minho’s not sure of what he should do next. But that’s not it, is it? Maybe he’s just overthinking too much. 

He looks hesitant for a moment there, very not-Lee-Minho of him. “We’re still cool right?” Minho tilts his head to the side, the afternoon sunlight slips through fluffs of white clouds and brings the constellations in his warm brown eyes to life. Though he looks like a scolded child, you can’t help but want to put this moment into a frame and simply cherish it for the rest of your life. 

“Beats me,” you breathe out, silently hating yourself for not being able to get angry at him. It’s harder than you thought, really, and it doesn’t help when his eyes keep doing that thing to your poor little heart. “Make me pasta and we’re good,” you end up chuckling when Minho’s expression turns a solid three hundred and sixty at the offer.

“That’s not a very smart move for a business major, your loss,” he replies with a goofy smile, tossing the helmet that he got you yesterday in your direction. And if you pay attention enough, you can almost see Minho exhaling out of relief. But you’re too busy staring at the ground to douse yourself in your own giddiness to notice. “Oh crap, I think I left my wallet at Hyunjin’s,” he tells you after swinging a leg over on his shiny vehicle. 

You narrow your eyes at him, “You don’t need your wallet to make me pasta now do you?”

“By the way, are you going to BamBam’s party?”

“Only if you’re going,” you scratch the bridge of your nose with your ring finger, a little embarrassed to admit that he’s the only reason why you’re ditching midterms. 

Minho’s hearty laugh fills your eardrums, shit-eating grin and all. “If it makes you feel better, Chan’s driving us,” he voices without looking at you, but your chest still swells either way. 

You fucking hate how you have the softest spot for him. 

four.

You’re already regretting this although you’ve only been sitting in Chan’s back seats for less than twenty minutes. Crankiness takes over your body as a result of reviewing for the whole afternoon, your eyelids are getting droopy, and your head seems to be all too big for your neck at this rate. More reasons for you to not drink tonight. 

“Ugh, why am I even here?” you groan, and Jisung scrunches his nose, slightly alarmed because you’re not usually this loud unless you’re high on caffeine. 

Minho tells you in the most lighthearted way possible, “Because you love me.” 

You wish you could just put his head through a wall because everything and anything coming out of his mouth are never healthy for your mind, or heart. “Uhm, no I don’t.”

“But you did confess your love to me,” he singsongs as if he just hit a jackpot with his lottery ticket, angling his head to toss you a wink. “I have receipts, ma’am. They’re right here, in my heart.” Minho’s never seen you so giddy before so he recorded everything, but he’s not planning on putting himself on a chopping block by telling you that. 

You shove his arm and purse your lips, flaming cheeks but the car’s too dark for him to see it. “I was sick, asshole, I talk shit more when I have a fever than when I’m drunk,” you defend yourself helplessly, not enjoying the fact that he had to bring it up when you’re in a confined space with Seo Changbin and Han Jisung. 

“Minho doesn’t like it when Y/N raises her voice.” Great, now he’s talking in third person. 

“What are you even? Four?”

He winks at you, “Baby me, baby.”

“Oh my god shut the fuck up and get away from me!”

“You’ll never get rid of me, baby.” Eventually, you give up because you’re too mentally exhausted and there’s still a long night ahead of you. You’re not wasting your energy in pointless arguments with him because you both yell at each other on a daily basis anyway. 

“Maybe he’ll zip it if you tell him that you love him,” Jisung suggests innocently with a not-so-innocent look on his face. He’s already acting dumb when he’s this fucking sober so you’re not looking forward to two hours later when vodka’s practically replaced his own blood. 

“I’d rather chew off my own foot.” Changbin snorts involuntarily at your stiff remark, Chan mutters a small ‘ouch’ while Jisung’s too busy laughing his ass off. And a demeaning silence descends after that. 

Minho’s right next to you, oddly unresponsive to the situation, his head leaning against your shoulder as he gazes dejectedly out the window. You don’t see how stormy his eyes are. He also misses his motorcycle tremendously because Chan’s the safest (slowest) driver to ever exist. No joke, if he keeps going at the pace of thirty miles per hour then you should just skip the party and watch a movie while getting drunk at his place altogether. 

“Can you go any fucking slower?”

“Excuse me?” Chan laughs in disbelief, he’s a little offended because he personally thinks he’s a good driver, maybe a little bit too obedient when it comes to the law. Hey, at least you know you’re in good hands. “I’m not trying to get us all killed before BamBam could poison one of you guys.” 

Jisung purses his lips as he’s reminded of the last party where he ran into that Thai dude. He gave him a plastic cup, telling him that it’s merely a harmless fruity vodka only for Jisung to get kicked out by an Uber driver after throwing up in the back seats. Turns out, the lemons and oranges in the cocktail were relatively spoilt. 

“I’m gonna die from boredom before we could even get into a car accident,” Minho informs him unconstructively, staring at some random notifications from Instagram of people commenting on his cats’ photos, text messages from his mom and swipes them all away. Mostly to chuckle to himself like a moron because of his lock screen. Yes, your stupid face is still on there after three weeks and you don’t know if you should be crying or laughing.

Chan narrows his eyes at the rear-view mirror, “It seems like you’re entertaining yourself just fine by looking at Y/N’s face.” 

“This photo does make me laugh because it’s priceless,” the younger boy states without turning his head to look at you. “But still, bored.” 

The car grows silent again soon after because Chan’s already been stressed out enough from traffic since clearly, people can’t drive to save their own lives. But it’s not like your friends can keep their mouths shut for the rest of the trip anyway. 

“Boreddd,” Minho voices randomly while a J.One’s song is blasting through the speaker. It’s a terribly soft song and it doesn’t help when Minho feels like he can downright sleep through an earthquake, potentially falling into an enormous crack on the Earth’s surface and still being able to nap like there’s no tomorrow. He’s just glad that Jisung grew out of ‘Wow’ and embraces his awkward self through his own music. It’s..sentimental but what’s a J.One song without that element?

Changbin looks up from his phone for half a second, wholly uninterested. “Then shut up and sleep,” he says expressionlessly. Very timely, his most recent track comes up next on the playlist and he starts rapping along with it. Minho thinks he can really use a good eye shut as SpearB is performing live right behind him because Changbin can only stay sober like this for so long until he gets his hands on one of BamBam’s sketchy-looking concoctions. 

You’re starting to get bored too at this rate because usually, during times like this when the car is filled with nothing but music and everyone (except for the driver) feels like they’re falling into a food coma, a certain idiot will—

“Y/N, don’t you have a midterm on Monday?” Ah, there it is. 

Jisung bends himself forward and drapes an arm over the leather seat, scrunching his nose at the sight of Minho sleeping soundly against your shoulder. He’s still bitter about the fact that Minho refuses to drive anyone other than you with his motorcycle for some reason. Exclusive things are always so annoying. 

You exhale deeply because Jisung reminds you of that one kid who always asks questions that stress the hell out of the teachers back in high school. Would it kill for him to just shut up once in a while? 

“I do, and I haven’t got a wink of sleep since yesterday afternoon,” you tell him rather lazily, shifting when Minho snuggles himself closer to you, his hair tickling your jawline. You pray he doesn’t know how fast your heart is beating. “A little alcohol might spare me a night of crying myself to sleep.” 

Jisung lets his bottom lip stuck out like he’s a fucking five-year-old not allowed to get his favorite ice-cream flavor. “Aww, you should have asked Minho for cuddles then, pretty sure he’d be more than happy to—,” he remarks sarcastically and you wish you could just throw him in the middle of an intersection. He’s lucky because Minho’s a heavy sleeper or he would have been knocked senseless or something. The last thing Chan needs is being forced to pull over for having wild animals wrestle the shit out of each other in his vehicle. 

“Hey, fuck off,” you snarl at him, knowing you should have chosen the passenger seat instead. That way, you wouldn’t be fuming inside because you can’t physically strangle Han Jisung to his imminent death. He has already tattooed that image into the back of your brain and you swear you’ve never heard a creepier chuckle from your friend. 

Jisung notices the coral tint on your cheeks and sneers, leaning back against his seat. “Yeah right, as if you’re actually gonna get drunk,” he says snarkily. “You’re just gonna be there to prevent Lee Minho from making bad decisions.” 

“I decided to come because Yeji wanted me-“

“Yeji who? In what world will you have time for her when you’re too busy staring at Minho like a total creep? Wanna bet ten bucks?” 

That’s bullshit because Lee Minho is already your entire world. 

Chan butts in, “Make that fifty.”

Changbin raises his hand, “I’d bet my Tesla.” Your friends really spelled out ‘a bunch of fucking clowns’ in bold, gigantic capital letters and you’re this close to facepalm yourself against Chan’s steering wheel. This is why you don’t go to parties with them that often because you’re stuck with cleanup duties with Seungmin until these crackheads grow out of their amateur drinking habits. 

“You’re just jealous because he would rather call you an Uber than give you a lift himself,” you say pointedly and Jisung lets out the loudest, most scandalous gasp. So dramatic. 

“You,” he jabs a finger at you, eyes wide in accusation. “Need a nap.”

You laugh dryly, ignoring the urge to snap a picture of his flabbergasted expression and turn it into a new meme for your group chat. “You don’t say, Han, you don’t say.”

And Changbin rolls his eyes over the moon, vividly picturing where this disastrous conversation is gonna go. Basically, he wants you to get shitfaced as soon as you step foot into BamBam’s house so he’ll have a sappy, drunk confession video to toss on Twitter tonight because Woojin just posted a picture of him with a drumstick dipped inside a glass of what looks like a watered-down Margarita. He’s highly concerned since there hasn’t been anything juicy on his feed other than his friends creeping people out with their questionable content. 

“If you two don’t end up getting drunk and kiss, I’m gonna be pissed,” Changbin says casually as if it’s just an afterthought. This prompts you to chuck your phone in his direction—you can care less about your screen protector at this point if it means stopping him from taunting you further. 

He asserts like a snake, “Hey, remember that time where you tripped over Kkami and totally crushed Minho under your weight?”

“I blame gravity for that.”

“But Albert Einstein said you can’t blame gravity for falling in love.”

“Who cares about Albert Einstein?!” you whisper-shout harshly, cautiously eyeing Minho’s sleeping figure. He scrunches his nose and murmurs something that you can’t quite hear before turning over to face you completely. His arms unexpectedly slip underneath yours like second nature. He furrows his eyebrows occasionally, other times he’d be grinning like an idiot and his lips are slightly agape, full eyelashes framing his eyes beautifully. Sometimes you wonder how weird his dreams are whenever you caught him talking (and cursing) in his slumber. 

Changbin wants to pry aloud when you start staring at Minho for too long; he might as well be tossed on the freeway at this point before exasperation squeezes the little amount of oxygen left out of his chest. This is worse than Hyunjin’s terrible rom coms. He props his head onto his hand in boredom as Chan pulls over and turns off the engine. “Hey we’re here, why not wake your prince up with a kiss—”

“I’m gonna kick your ass,” you threaten. 

Now there are two distasteful tattoos at the back of your head. And you will not hesitate for a heartbeat sacrificing the entirety of your bank account to get them removed. To get Lee Minho removed from your mind.

If only it were that easy.  

“Mhmm,” the figure beside you lets out a low grunt and hugs your arm closer instinctively. His warmth seeps through the fabric of your denim jacket and sets your heart on fire. You’re ready to flick his forehead any second now to interrupt his slumber but before you could even do anything, Seo Changbin aggressively opens the door and you widen your eyes in horror. Where the fuck did he get a megaphone? And what for?

“Bitch wake up! Those drinks aren’t gonna finish themselves!”

It’d be a miracle if you ended up finding him alive by dawn. 

five.

“Y/N you ass, give it back!

“No, we’ve only been here for three hours and this is your fifth cup already,” you tell her in a mildly serious tone before dumping her cup of whatever the fuck of a yellow substance that Ryujin gave her ten minutes ago into the sink. 

Yeji plops herself onto the sofa in the living room after you drag her out of the kitchen where people are making out on the marble counter. Glad to see nothing’s changed...idiots. “God, you’re such a party pooper, I shouldn’t have told you to come,” she complains in between small hiccups, alcohol tinting her cheeks beet red. 

“I’m here to save your ass and this is how you’re repaying me?” Your question didn’t come out as coherent and threatening as you imagined and every single cell inside your body is shaking for no specific reason. 

Your friend narrows her eyes down into a mere glare like a detective in those crimes shows that you spend way too much time on and you’re debating whether you should be laughing or pissing yourself. She fucking knows that you’re lying. She fucking knows the sole reason for you to be here. “Give me a break, it’s not like you’re doing anything besides staring at your boyfriend from afar,” Yeji scoffs dejectedly. 

“God forbids ‘Lee Minho’ and ‘my boyfriend’ go in the same sentence,” you grit, subconsciously averting your gaze around the living room to spot your roommate. All he’s been doing is being held back by Chan when he tried to murder Changbin once, catching up with his old friends from high school and hanging out with some of his classmates, ranting about how much he dreads Kim’s eight AM, gushing with Hyunjin over some senior’s choreography set. By the looks of it, Jisung must have handed him at least seven of those red party cups from the bar—thanks to BamBam who keeps restocking them every hour. 

Yeji chuckles creepily when the alcohol finally hits her hard, you think you just got chills by the way that she’s leaning closer. “Of course not,” she hiccups into your ear, words slurred, “Lee Minho’s not my boyfriend, he’s your boyfriend.” You look at her in the eye, and mentally regret your life choices. How insufferable. 

“I mean, seriously,” she slams her body back onto the couch and groans; you can’t tell if it’s out of frustration or the cushion is too soft for her back. “It’s like you’re living the life of the main protagonist in a Harry Styles fanfiction! Do you know how many girls and boys would kill to live in the same apartment as that?” Her index finger is pointed directly at the person you’ve been watching and avoiding all night, across the room with a dart in his hand as he stands in front of the dartboard. 

“Were you aiming for the board or were you plotting to kill me? Because I can’t tell! I-can’t-fucking-tell!” Changbin shouts over the music and you momentarily cringe at the crack in his voice; it’s never a college party without one of your friends riling each other up over the dumbest things. And also, who thinks it’s a good idea to lend an unstable Lee Minho a sharp object of any kind?

You look away as heat flares through your nostrils when Minho accidentally glances at you after laughing at some corny joke that Chan made. He’s more than mildly hammered right now, you suppose, because, well, Chan can only make people laugh when they’re exceptionally drunk. 

A stupid question then slips out of your lips. “With what?” It sounds like you only have one brain cell and are perpetually dumb. It makes you feel even dumber when there’s nothing but a can of Coke inside your body. 

“A hottie who dances, cooks, has a good sense of humor, lowkey a genius, highkey a tsundere, shares a name with a famous actor. Far more handsome than the actor himself, if I dare.” Yeji has no hesitation whatsoever naming every reason as to why people on campus shamelessly throw themselves at your roommate on a daily basis. And now your head grows ten times fuzzier, floating mundanely in the clouds above. Basically, you feel like you’re drunk—except your confidence isn’t sky high enough to do something stupid—which makes no absolute sense. 

The silver-haired girl next to you puts an arm around your neck and giggles, you’re highly perturbed that her vocal cords are gonna give in tomorrow when she convinces you through FaceTime that you should be extra careful with your notes since she won’t be showing up to class. “Oh! And he has three cats, right? Cat people are said to be more intuitive and thoughtful, that’s a bonus,” Yeji asserts and your jaw is on the floor at this rate. She doesn’t even spare him a second glance during lunch break and she already knows this much?

No wonder Minho never talked about his cats with Felix and Seungmin again.

“I bet you read that off a Buzzfeed article.” 

“Doesn’t necessarily mean it’s wrong!”

You inhale and exhale deeply, linking your fingers together, “Yeah, but that’s all people will ever see.”

“Well, what else can they like about him?”

“I don’t know,” you say bluntly, but the rouge on your cheeks is anything but ‘blunt’. “They don’t see how stuck-up he is, how he loves hogging the blanket all to himself, how he secretly stocks up a stash of trashy snacks. They don’t see the way his eyes sparkle when he looks into their eyes during a conversation because he’s actually a very attentive listener.”

Yeji pats your back without turning her head, slightly amused, “I think you meant how he looks into your eyes during a conversation.”

Your eyes scan the room one more time to find Minho hugging his stomach from laughing too much, there are actual tears in his eyes because Changbin just lost a bet and apparently he has to belly flop himself into the pool as a punishment. You haven’t seen him this happy in a while, even when he’s potentially dying from a really bad stomachache but it still puts your heart at ease knowing he’s having fun tonight. 

Needless to say, he always knocks the breath right out of your lungs without much effort. Even when he’s ditched the leather jacket and ripped jeans, you still think no one looks better than him in a large t-shirt and sweatpants. 

“But I don’t get it,” Yeji looks over at you this time, real carefully because your tone just grows firmer and more serious. “How can he just stand there, laugh...and look so beautiful?”

“I told you—”

“Yeah that’s exactly what I need to hear right now, Yeji,” you facepalm almost immediately, highly disappointed in yourself. 

Jisung’s getting his ten dollars on Monday when you surprise him with two slices of cheesecake from his favorite dessert place. Changbin can keep his Tesla and Chan...Chan isn’t getting anything.

You push yourself off the blue velvet couch and groan, you’re getting sore quickly because the cushions are far too soft. “Let me get some fresh air, I feel like I’m gonna to lose my mind,” you tell your friend but you doubt that she caught it since the music is all too loud for students to communicate properly. Maybe that’s one of the reasons why fistfights during parties are a thing. 

“Uhm, wait,” Yeji tugs onto your sleeve and jerks her head towards the direction of Minho. “I’m sorry but what the hell does your boyfriend want now?”

“Huh where—“

Like..three feet away. Or a whole lot closer. 

“Why didn’t you answer my texts?” And you find Minho standing in front of you with his arms crossed stubbornly, eyebrows knitted together and tinted pink cheeks. He looks a little pissed off, and you don’t think you’re both on the same page here. 

When you give him a ‘what do you mean’ look, your roommate feels the need to unlock his phone and jab his index finger against his poor crusty screen as he shows you at least fifty messages that he’s been spamming in the last half an hour. This reminds you of the yellow Post-It note that Minho violently smacked onto your fridge the very night when he first moved in. 

‘I hereby fucking declare that if we did end up going to the same party (doubt btw), we would keep our phones with us 25/8 so one can save the other’s ass from stupid decisions— lee minho’ he wrote. Minho knows all too well the only ass that needs to be saved is his. And you’ve thought about taking the note down several times but you don’t think you’d have the heart to. 

“Oh,” your head draws a blank canvas and you look for your phone in your pocket. But then, “I left my phone in Chan’s car.”

Minho rolls his eyes at you and decides that he’s too impatient to wait for Chan to sober up and remember where he left his keys. “Whatever,” he manages to crack a small smile, one that shines through the dimmed LED light on the ceiling and makes your heart stuck in your throat. “Let’s get out of here, I have something to tell you.” 

“Hey hey hey,” Yeji tries to get up from the couch but her limbs are too wobbly. “You can’t just tap out all of a sudden and steal her from me like that. Don’t even think for a minute you second rate—”

“Yeah, no, she’s mine.”

You’re downright baffled. But you’re not sure if it’s because of what he said ten seconds ago and your heart is going haywire, your brain cells are giving in on you or it’s because he’s tugging you by the wrist and piloting you through the impending chaos of sloppy college students. 

You’re not sure if you want to know. You’re not sure if you’re ready. 

six.

Fall arrives sooner than you thought and it almost makes you miss summer. Though you didn’t really have anything exciting besides an internship that refrained you from living on YouTube for too long. 

The evening is oddly cold, but you’ve never had a problem with the tips of your fingers growing chilly. It’s different tonight—it’s the kind of coldness that slips through your flesh and into your bones, coming in contact with the thumping force of your heart, causing it to shiver. There’s nothing to do but keep your gaze straight forward, your feet moving on their own with the one and only goal of heading home. Clouds with the murky color of wet ashes pass by, and the ground as its dank reflection—a reminder of how humanity is ruining the planet. 

The streets are so quiet and tranquil; you’re afraid that Minho might be able to hear your heartbeat. Now you’re pointing a finger at society in accusation because it’s the weekend yet no elder couples are taking their night strolls, no middle-aged ladies in fluffy jackets are walking their spoiled teacups dogs and no wasted college students are roaming the streets with ‘trouble’ spelled out on their forehead. Really, you’d rather stare at people in a creepy way and zone out than constantly thinking about Lee Minho when he’s right beside you. 

This is terribly suffocating and you don’t think if you can keep this up in the next thirty minutes until both of you get home and melt into the comfort of your bed. 

“Sober up, Mister Celebrity, that’s too much fun for tonight.” Minho winces slightly when you press a can of cold green tea against his cheeks as he’s about to doze off on the wooden bench next to the vending machine. While he’s taking a swig, you feel a silent obligation to take a seat but your eyes are determinedly fixed on the curb. 

The bench suddenly feels far too big and the night breeze is far too cold for Minho’s liking, so he shifts his body closer, fingers brushing over yours and sending electricity down your spine. “What do you mean?” he scoffs, finding it hard to not look at you so his gaze is temporarily glued onto the can of green tea in his palms. “Tonight was nothing compared to Jisung’s birthday.” He can still feel the remaining warmth from your hands, it makes him wonder how it’d feel to actually hold them. 

“Ugh, god,” you shake your head in disbelief, internally cringing. “Don’t even remind me.”

You still don’t know what Hyunjin fed him that day to the point he couldn’t remember what happened. All hell broke loose Felix posted a video of him pretending to be a stupid ostrich and trying to do a mating dance towards Jisung on Twitter. No one dares to talk about that scarred video since. Now that he’s reminded you of it, you wish you didn’t own brain cells in the first place. This is why the internet is scary. 

“What is it that you wanted to tell me anyway?” 

Minho stops for a second at your question and places his beverage down on the bench. He stares distantly at the space ahead as if he’s fighting with himself inside his own head, seriously contemplating something. It’s come to your attention that this isn’t very like his usual self. Minho never hesitates for a second when he has something in mind. Even when he knows that you might rip his head off.

He exhales deeply, turns his head, and makes direct eye contact with you for what seems like an eternity. His eyes are as wide open and honest as a child’s, they possess something so much more the longer you stare at them. A warmth, safety. Your heart is gonna combust if he doesn’t get this over with soon. 

Then, “I think I forgot to put yeast in the batter.” Wait what?

“Minho!” you punch his arm, earning a low grunt from the blond-haired boy. “Don’t fucking scare me like that!” He’s looking at you as though your eyes are turning red with rage and smoke is coming out of your ears, scared for his own life but truthfully, you’re just relieved. Surprisingly. 

“Wait, so you’re not mad?” he asks you with a wide-eyed expression, trying way too hard to keep a straight face. “Aren’t we supposed to bring homemade bread for the get together at the nursing home tomorrow?”

“Old people still enjoy Bingo for some reason, they can have that instead of bread.” His mouth forms a small ‘o’ as he scoots closer to you and you can tell that he reeks off alcohol, which is making you a little dizzy. When your gaze falls elsewhere but Lee Minho, you attempt to appear casual, “But if you wanna bake so badly, I can still pull an all-nighter and start over with you.” That was doable, but you could have done better—should have sounded like you didn’t really care. 

Minho flings his bangs away from his face and tosses his head back, chuckling breathlessly. “Don’t you have a midterm to stress over instead of me? I don’t want you to pick out every single strand of hair on your head after baking with me.” He finally said something nice once in a while, you sorta appreciate it. “It’d be embarrassing when my parents FaceTime me and see you as bald as my great grandfather.” Nevermind, he’s still the same old jerk. 

“You don’t have to be embarrassed, you’ll be moving out in two weeks, either way, right?” Your tone sounds sad and grim all of a sudden; it really dampens the atmosphere because Minho is now looking at you with concern laced in his brown eyes. “Look, I get that it’s bothersome to be my roommate so there’s no need to feel bad. I’ll be fine going back to my old life where my feet don’t get cold in the middle of the night because no one would be there to hog the blanket anymore.”

Minho feels the need to clear things up here. “I never said anything about moving out,” he grabs you by the shoulders and hopes you could just look at him when he’s being serious for once. “Y/N, who even said anything about moving out? Was it the landlord?”

“No,“ you say, still not willing to face him directly. You’re such a coward. 

“If so, why would I move out? Did I do something wrong? Did I piss you off or something?”

You’re trying so hard not to snap at this point. “No!”

“Then why can’t you just fucking look at me?!”

“You’re still drunk, let me buy you another—“

Minho shakes you forcefully, hoping to knock some common sense into that brain of yours. “For fuck’s sake, I’m not drunk!” he cries helplessly, not caring about the fact that he’s waking up every cat possible in the neighborhood. “Just- just look at me, will you?”

You stubbornly keep your eyes anywhere but him. “Why would I look at your stupid face?”

“Don’t bullshit me, Y/N. You’re not usually like this.”

Every single cell inside your body quivers simultaneously when he says so—good god, no, he’s testing you. Minho knows something’s off. Now to think about it again, you’d rather let him dirty your carpet than being put on trial like this.

“You wanna know why I’m acting like this? It’s because of you! You’re making me nervous! It’s your fault for making me feel this way!”

“What?” he blurts, eyes blinking numerous times in disbelief. “What did I ever do to you?”

“God, Minho, you can’t possibly be this dense. Tell me, that you’ve never, not even once, seen me turning beet red when you simply look at me in the eye. Or when you’re just sitting there, laughing your ass off about something stupid. It makes my heart flutter, okay? You make my heart flutter. Do you know how much of an effect you can have on me? You don’t go around juggling with others’ feelings like that,” your voice grows smaller and smaller towards the end until there’s nothing but an oddly comfortable silene floating midair. A sense of relief washes over you; you unknowingly exhale.

Minho stares at you in awe for a moment there, until he also speaks up for himself. “Maybe you should take your own advice,” he almost snickers, and this causes you to peel your gaze away from a random bush to gawk at his response. “You’re telling me to not go around juggling with others’ feelings? If anything, you’re the one who keeps messing with my heart. What am I supposed to do? Not get drunk so that I won’t be able to get away for doing dumb things?”

“What dumb things?”

“I don’t know, kiss you?”

“Fuck, you can’t get away with it this time now, can you?”

You’re already regretting this and there’s no turning back. Because when Minho subconsciously runs his tongue over his bottom lips, you’re already fighting the rouge spreading on your cheekbones. He shortens the distance between your heads until your lips are practically a breath away from his. Impatient, you grab a fistful of his shirt to smash your lips against his. Minho stays frozen for a nanosecond, taken aback by your boldness before pulling you closer by the waist. You’re hesitant at first, but he guides you through it, telling you that it’s okay by embracing you more tightly. Dear god, Minho’s kissing you and the world just falls away. It’s slow, comforting in ways that words can never be. He slackens his jaw to deepen the kiss, smiling into it when giddiness bubbles up inside his stomach. 

The world still feels like it’s spinning when he parts away, an alcoholic taste mixed with the green tea ghosts your lips, and your face grows ten times hotter. Even in this cracked darkness, Minho sees you blush hard and is fully aware that his cheeks are mirroring yours—he doesn’t even bother to convince himself that it’s from the alcohol, because it isn’t. 

“Why aren’t you saying anything?” Minho questions though his breath is still a bit shaky from the kiss. He really didn’t lie when he said that he could never stop bothering you. 

You can’t help but smile at him brightly; this causes his heartbeat to spike inside his chest. “Well, do I have to?” He shakes his head and stares down at your hands until he musters up every strand of courage left to finally intertwine them with his own. Fits like a glove. 

“Come on, let’s go home,” he tells you softly, eyes crinkling into a pretty crescent moon shape. But you stop him right there when he attempts to stand up and wordlessly lean your forehead against his. Minho understands that you simply need a moment so you both hover right there, simply melting into each other’s touch. But what you say next just makes the ignited passion inside his heart flare-up. He’s at a loss for words, utterly speechless. 

“I am home.”

“Welcome home then, Y/N,” Minho whispers.

Everything feels like a dream that you’d never want to wake up from. His hands are clasped on either side of your face, resting just below the lobes of your ears. His thumbs gently caress your cheeks so that you won’t drift away, your breaths mingling. Never before has your own name made your heart flutter. But you guess it’s only because Minho said it. You do know that it’s not an afterthought, nor out of impulse. It’s a promise, for whatever’s coming your way on this path, he’s never gonna leave you behind. And the moment he feels that thing beating inside his chest is in sync with yours, he slowly leans in again.

Albert Einstein once said you can’t blame gravity for falling in love. And you have every right to argue with him in the afterlife because you’ve confirmed that Minho is your gravity. Gravity keeps you grounded, always get a hold of you so that you won’t ever have to wander off too far away. It’s there for you but it doesn’t have to act like it cares. Minho’s kinda like that too—he picked you up every time you said you’re good walking home, he only stocked up the stash of candies to secretly feed your midnight cravings. They only differ so much where his heartbeat for you is loud, undaunted and he loves you fearlessly; nothing shall meddle with his feelings for you as long as the way your eyes light up when they meet his doesn’t change. 

Before you met Minho, you didn’t know that it was possible to just look at someone and smile for no reason. The way his lips curl up when he smiles, his sarcastic remarks, his kindhearted nature though he’s awfully good at hiding it. That’s what people do when they’re in love, they say—to fawn over the littlest things but they’re what makes you fall so hard for him. But as time passes by, you’ve learned that it’s actually quite nice to be in love with someone. Because then, you get to spend your time and effort on their happiness as well, not just your own. In exchange, that person is capable of bringing colors to your dull world, tearing down your walls, and showing you just how beautiful life can be. Surely, Minho might not stay by your side forever in this crazy game of Monopoly but you’d risk it all for him even if the sky comes crashing and the universe turns upside down. 

After all, you can’t love alone. 

[golbrocklovely]

remember me // colby brock

A/N: this is not a request, but this is something i have been thinking about for a long time, probs since i started writing. i only finally wrote this out bc i’ve seen a lot of edit on insta that are like ‘what if your fave didn’t exist?’ and i figured this was sign for me to finally write it. if you guys want me to make a sequel to this, lmk. hope you enjoy.

prompt: everyone has forgotten colby, except her. but why?

trigger warning: angst, kinda sad, ppl forgetting colby

word count: 3567

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The day started out like any other day for Colby. Nothing felt out of place as he woke up and laid in bed for a couple minutes. He knew today was going to be one of the less crazier days for him and Sam. No meetings of any kind, and no filming either. He had gotten everything done earlier this week and he was excited to have a bit of a day off. The only thing he had planned for today was to go workout with Sam early. He glanced at his phone. 9:34 A.M. Perfect time for him and Sam to go down to the apartment's gym and get some work done.

Colby stretched as he stood up, stumbling over to his closet and changing into what he usually worked out in, a muscle shirt and basketball shorts. He trudged into his bathroom and brushed his teeth quickly, opting to take a shower after he got home from the gym. He slipped his sneakers on as he walked into his kitchen and got a water bottle from his fridge. Taking a big gulp, he grabbed his keys and headed straight down the hallway to Sam's apartment.

He knocked three times, calling out to Sam as he waited for the blonde-haired boy to open the door. Finally, Sam did, rubbing his eyes and staring at Colby confused.

"Hey dude, did you oversleep?" Colby smirked, "That would be a first."

Sam narrowed his eyes at Colby, his voice still tired. "Um, I'm sorry?"

“Don't you remember? We planned to work out this morning. We talked about it last night.” Colby replied, twirling his keys in his fingers.

“What are you talking about?” Sam scrunched up his face.

“Last night after we filmed your video, we said we should go workout this morning…” Colby chuckled lightly, “Are you okay, brother?”

“I'm sorry, but... do you have the wrong apartment?” Sam asked nicely.

Colby exhaled. “What?”

“You must be looking for someone else, dude. I have no idea who you are.” Sam mumbled to himself, “Or how you know my name…”

“Okay, ha-ha. Very funny. Come on, Sam. Let's go.” Colby stated, taking a step back to leave.

Sam insisted, his voice getting louder. “No seriously, I have no idea who you are.”

“Babe, who is that?” A voice called from inside the apartment.

Colby looked over Sam, seeing Kat walk around the corner in her pjs. Colby glanced above Kat and noticed something off but ignored it.

“Hey Kat, did Sam hit his head last night?” Colby joked.

Sam turned to Kat. “Do you know him?”

Kat took a step back, glancing at Colby quickly. “No, I have no idea who he is. Do you?”

“No, I don't.” Sam shook his head.

“What are you guys on about? Of course, you know me.” Colby hissed.

“Seriously, I have no idea who you are or how you know me. But you gotta leave.” Sam ordered.

“What?” Colby raised an eyebrow, his voice softening, “Is this some type of prank?”

“Leave now, or I'm gonna call security on you.” Sam grunted.

Colby started. “Dude what are you talking-”

Sam slammed the door in Colby's face, locking it loudly. Colby scoffed, staring at the door for a second.

If this is a prank, I'm so gonna get him back for this.

Colby rolled his eyes and went down to the gym. He couldn't wrap his head around what just happened. Why was Sam pranking him if they already filmed last night? Was he trying to film for next week now too? Was this for someone else's video?

I mean, this has to be a prank... right?

Colby shook his head, ignoring the strange thought. Of course, this was a prank. It was probably for Jake's video. Maybe even Kat's. Or Kevin's. Someone was doing it to him. He couldn't remember the last time he had pranked somebody. But whoever he did, they were probably trying to get him back now for it. And they were doing a pretty good job.

Colby jumped onto the treadmill, keeping the pace slow at first as he searched through Spotify to find his playlist. Where was his playlist? As cheesy as it was to listen to the playlist he made for fans, it was filled with his favorite songs, so he would actually listen to it a lot. But now... he couldn't find it.

Where the fuck is it?

He searched, even going to his profile, but it wasn't there. Gone, like it never existed.

Maybe Spotify is acting up. Let me just go to Youtube.

Colby clicked on the app, searching up a song he wanted to hear. Then he paused for a moment, deleting the text he had written and typing in 'sam and colby'.

No results found.

“What?” Colby murmured, twisting up his face.

He then typed in 'colby brock'.

No results found.

Colby's heart sped up in his chest, his breathing quickening. Did his channel get deleted? Why were there no results for his channel, or 'Sam and Colby' for that matter? He finally typed in 'sam golbach', and Sam's channel appeared.

Colby clicked on it, glancing around at the different layout. This wasn't the layout Sam had had before. The only time they change it is when they are starting a new chapter, and they always do it together. Maybe he changed it last minute?

He clicked on Sam's videos. Scrolling through the list of them, he noticed something weird.

Sam always included Colby in the thumbnail. But now... he was nowhere. Now someone different was in the thumbnail, like Jake, Kevin, or even Corey. But... Colby was nowhere.

What the fuck was going on?

Colby clicked on a video he knew he was in, 'This Is How He LOST The Game’. He watched through the first ad, waiting impatiently. Finally, when the video loaded, his eyes widened at what he saw.

He wasn't in the video.

Sam had started the video off like normal, showing all the guys sitting on the couch as he explained the name of the game. But Colby, who knew for a fact he was in this video, was no longer there. His spot empty.

It was one thing to pretend not to know him, it was one thing to remove him from the thumbnails. But to remove him from videos all together...

“It's impossible.” He uttered under his breath.

Colby rushed off the treadmill, no longer in the mood to workout. He ran up to his apartment, feeling his heart bang against his ribcage.

Maybe this is all a weird ass dream? Or an extremely elaborate prank?

Colby went into his closet, deciding he wanted to change out of his clothes into something more comfortable. He gazed over at the corner of his closet, where he kept all of his merch, along with the XPLR ones too.

It was empty.

“What the fuck?” Colby grabbed at the empty hangers, spinning around his closet. He threw open drawers to try and find his merch, but he couldn't find it.

Colby swiped open his phone, sliding to his pictures. He knew him and Sam had a recent photoshoot in the new XPLR merch, so as long as those photos were there, he knew everything's okay.

As he opened his photo album, a certain dread trickled through his body.

Colby never deleted anything off his phone. He wanted to keep as many photos as possible. Plus it was always good to have extra photos in case he didn't have anything to post on his Instagram. But now, every photo he had was different than it once was. He had many photos of him and Sam from their years of friendship. But now every photo that had him and Sam in it... was gone. It was no longer Sam and Colby. It was just... Colby.

I'm not doing this right now. This can't be real.

Colby shook his head, his nerves getting the better of him as he laid back down on his bed. He took some deep breaths, trying to relax. This must just be the most realistic dream he's ever had, and he just needs to go back to sleep and wake up to everything normal again.

Normal... Sam's neon sign was gone.

Colby groaned to himself, closing his eyes and getting comfortable in bed. No, this is not the time to think. I just need to sleep.

As Colby felt himself relax into sleep, his dreams that followed were confusing and dark. Nothing made sense, but all he knew was that he was in a panic.

Colby jolted awake suddenly. He could tell by the way the sun was peeking through his windows that it was later. He opened his phone. 1:34 P.M.

He sighed deeply. Colby was used to waking up on his days off this late. Everything already felt better.

Did I dream all of that? Or was that prank real?

As he slid out of bed to the bathroom, he decided to check twitter. If that was all real, maybe Sam had mentioned the prank to the fans.

Colby opened twitter and nothing seemed out of the usual. He looked at Sam's account, and noticed it was not following him anymore.

He's being extremely thorough, isn't he?

As he went to switch over to the Sam and Colby account, he noticed the icon wasn't there. His fingers twitched as he typed 'sam and colby' into the search bar. Everything but that account showed up. 'Sam and Colby' twitter didn't exist.

A nauseous feeling rolled through Colby's body. Colby went to his profile, looking through the people he followed, not even noticing the significant lack of followers he had. He knew he followed a couple fans, maybe they knew what was up. As he scrolled through, he noticed the usernames were different.

He knew a bunch of fans off-hand. A lot of fan accounts always stuck out to him; and it was easy to remember the username, especially if it was named after him.

But nobody's username was.

He saw a lot of 'Golbach', but no 'Brock' or even 'Golbrock', which he always thought was cute. Not a single username was related to him anymore.

Alright, that's enough.

He angrily clicked on his contacts, needing to call Sam and tell him to call off this prank. It was no longer funny and honestly, he didn't even want to be a part of it anymore. Most pranks he was fine with, but this one was going too far for him.

Colby gasped as he stared at his contacts, dropping his phone like it electrocuted him.

All his friends were missing from his contacts. The only people in his phone were his family, and that was it.

Colby began to hyperventilate, unable to stop the panic that surged through his body. He bore at himself in the mirror, staring at his stress-ridden face. He gripped the counter of his sink, trying to calm himself down.

If he couldn't turn to Sam, who could he turn to?

He picked his phone back up, leaning against his counter as he called his mom. He just needed to know that someone remembered him.

“Hello?” His mother’s voice sang through the phone.

Colby breathed, slightly relaxing against the counter. “Hey Mom, how are you?”

“Hi Cole-baby. I'm doing okay. How are you?” She asked sweetly.

Colby pouted. “Um, I'm feeling a bit... off, to say the least.”

“Oh no, what's wrong?” She responded.

“I know this is gonna sound like a weird question, but do you remember my friend Sam?” Colby questioned, tapping his hand against the counter.

She hummed, guessing. “Sam? Sam... Johnson?”

“What? No. I never knew a Sam Johnson.” Colby rolled his eyes, frustrated, “I mean Sam Golbach. Sam Golbach. Do you remember him?”

“No... should I?” She admitted.

His heart dropped at her words. “Yeah, you should. He's my best friend. We were friends all through high school. We started a literal career together, he's basically your third son at this point.”

“Woah, honey. What are you talking about?” She puzzled.

“You don't remember Sam? He's the whole reason I moved out here, Mom.” He urged, needing his mother to remember.

She paused, then spoke. “Colby, you moved out to LA alone. Last month.”

“What?” He choked.

“You worked all through high school and college and saved up money and just recently moved out there.” She informed.

His eyes widened. “Mom, I've lived in LA for almost five years now.”

Also... college?

“Maybe it feels like five years, but honey, you only moved out a month ago at max.” His mom’s voice softened, lowering slightly. “Are you okay?”

“No momma, apparently not.” He sighed, “Who was I friends with in high school if I wasn’t friends with Sam?”

“Honey, you didn’t have any… or none that you ever brought home.” She mentioned.

Colby queried. “And college?”

“You didn’t really talk about anyone. You were very focused on your schoolwork.” She explained.

That literally doesn’t sound like me at all. I couldn’t even pass math without Sam.

Colby glanced down at his tattoos for a second, pursing his lips. “Another quick question, I was allowed to live in our house with dyed hair, tattoos, and pierced ears?”

She gasped. “Wait what? You got a tattoo?!”

“Mom, I have like five.” Colby deadpanned.

“When did you find the time to get them?!” She hushed, “Cole, you know how I feel about tattoos.”

Colby grew tired. “So, you've never heard of a Sam Golbach before?”

“No, absolutely not. But don't try to change the subject on me, Cole Robert.” She scolded.

He huffed. “I'll talk to you later, momma.”

She sputtered. “What? Don't you-”

Colby clicked ‘End Call’, lowering his head to the counter, taking in a deep breath and holding it.

“What the fuck is happening right now?” He demanded out loud.

Colby jumped up, going to his closet and slipping on some clothes quickly. The only thing he knew for certain is that something wasn't right, and he needed to get out of his apartment and go somewhere else. Anywhere else.

He grabbed his keys and rushed down to the parking lot, getting into his car quickly and driving off.

He drove for a while, finally pulling into another parking lot and turning off his car. He needed to get something to eat, and then maybe he could figure things out. He glanced around and noticed the parking lot he was in was for a diner named Meyer's. He locked his car as he left, swinging the diner's door open hastily. The diner wasn't packed, but it wasn't empty either. A nice lull of conversations droned on as he sat down at the furthest booth, cracking his knuckles nervously.

He picked up the menu that was already at the table, staring at the front of it. He didn't even realize a waitress had walked up next to him.

"...Are you okay?" The soft voice said, breaking him out of his thoughts.

Colby stared up at the waitress, noticing her eyes first. They were captivating and beautiful, much like herself. Her hair shined brightly in the sun that basked through the window. Her smile was wonderful to see after a day of unpleasant looks.

He stuttered. “What? Uh-I. Yeah, no, I'm fine.”

She giggled. “Okay. Can I get you something to drink?”

“Um, a water. No, a soda. Please.” Colby muttered.

“Alright. Coming right up.” She nodded.

Colby stared at the menu again, gazing over the pictures of sandwiches and wraps. He wasn't really hungry, but he felt like he should just eat something, even if it was just to pass the time.

The waitress came back over with his soda, placing it lightly down in front of him. “Are you ready to order?”

“No, not yet.” Colby answered, not looking up from the menu.

“Okay, I'll be right back.” She started to walk away, then stopped and turned back. “Are you okay? I know I already asked you that but... you look really upset.”

Colby’s shoulders slumped as he gazed up at her. “I-I... don't even know how to explain it.”

“Why? Is it complicated?” She guessed.

“You could say that,” Colby glared down at the menu. “It just doesn't make any sense. It sounds fake, to be honest.”

“Well, you can tell me. I won't judge.” She smiled.

I might as well tell somebody...

“Everyone's... forgotten about me?” Even Colby was confused at his words.

“What do you mean? Like they're ignoring you?” She questioned, her hand resting on her hip.

“No. Like they literally forgot I exist. Or, I somehow don't exist in their lives anymore, when yesterday I did.” He confessed.

She shrugged. “Well, maybe they're trying to ignore you instead of talking things out.”

“No, I don't think you understand. I don't exist to them. They don't know me. Like, at all,” Colby corrected. “My best friend, my brother, the fucking dude I got arrested with, doesn't know who I am.”

“Wait, you've been arrested?” She raised an eyebrow.

“It was just breaking and entering. And having fake IDs,” He commented. “But that's not the point, the point is no one remembers me, but I remember them.”

The waitress stood there silently, awkwardly.

“I don't know what to say.” She whispered.

He gulped. “I don't know either. But if you have a solution, I'd gladly hear it.”

“Maybe it's a prank?” She speculated.

“I thought about that too. But if it is, this is extremely elaborate. And borderline impossible.” Colby disclosed.

She argued nonchalantly. “People do crazy things for social media.”

“Yeah, but even my friends wouldn't take it this far for just a dumb video.” He complained.

“Are your friends famous?” She inquired.

“I wouldn't say that. My best friend is Sam Golbach.” Colby revealed.

“Sam Golbach? Why have I heard that name before?” She asked quietly.

“He's got a lot of followers. He’s a Youtuber.” He pointed out.

“Wait, you're Sam's best friend?” Her eyes widened.

“Yeah?” He cocked his head to the side.

She gasped. “Oh! You're Colby Brock!”

“I'm what?” He stammered.

“You're Colby, right?” She doubted for a second, “Or did I get that wrong?”

Colby jumped up out of his seat. “Oh my God, you know who I am! Wait, how do you know?”

“My one friend is a huge fan of you and Sam. She showed me you guys like a month ago.” She paused for a second, smirking. “She's actually really into you... Maybe I should call her.”

“Please do. I need to know if she knows who I am.” Colby pleaded, sitting back down.

The waitress followed him, sitting across from Colby. “Of course she does, she literally has you set as her wallpaper.”

She pulled out her phone, glancing around to make sure no one was watching her. She clicked on a contact, putting the phone on the table and clicking ‘Speaker’.

“Hello?” A voice broke in through the phone.

She grinned, staring up at Colby. “Hey Sara, you need to come down to the diner real quick.”

“What why?” Sara questioned.

“Colby Brock is here.” She announced.

Sara remarked. “...Who?”

“Colby Brock, the guy you're in love with.” She repeated.

“I have no idea who you're talking about. I've never heard that name before.” Sara denied.

“He's Sam Golbach's friend.” The waitress described.

Sara exclaimed. “Oh my God, is Sam there?! Because I’ll-”

She interjected. “No, he’s not.”

“Oh... then I don't want to come.” Sara recalled, “I've never heard Sam talk about a guy named Colby before.”

Colby swallowed the lump in his throat, his eyes falling off of the waitress’.

She fretted. “Okay then. I'll talk to you later.”

“Alright, bye.” Sara ended, hanging up the phone.

After a moment of silence, the waitress stated, “I'm sorry about that.”

“What's there to be sorry about?” Colby quavered.

The waitress scoffed suddenly. “Is this some kinda joke?”

“What?” He queried.

“Are you pulling a prank on me? Was Sara in on it? Because I’ll kill her if she met you and didn’t tell me.” She jeered jokingly.

Colby shook his head, deadpanning. “I haven’t met Sara, and I’m not pranking you.”

“How can I know if you’re lying or not?” She questioned, squinting her eyes.

“Google my name. Search me on any social media,” Colby suggested. “I don’t exist.”

“Okay…” She agreed.

The waitress quickly typed in his name into Google, coming up with no images that looked like him. None of his social media links came up either.

She gazed up at him slowly. “This is really weird.”

“You’re telling me.” Colby uttered, “No one remembers me.”

She blurted. “But I do.”

“Yeah… why is that?” He inquired.

“I-I don’t know.” She sputtered, confused. Then she jolted up from her seat instantly. “I-um, gotta go help out my other tables. Do you need me to give you some time to look over the menu?”

“Yes…” He continued, “But one other thing.”

“Sure.” She leaned in, her hands resting on the tabletop.

“Can you help me? Please?” Colby begged, lightly grabbing her hand.

She silently gasped, whispering, “How?”

“I don’t know. But I think you’re the only one that can.” Colby divulged.

The waitress stuttered, but no words fell from her lips.

He exhaled, staring into her eyes. “So, will you?”

| >>

[rattlemycage]

I Should Have Known Again (But Here It Goes Again)

NOTE: I posted this from a browser. It shows as under a cut there. I don’t know how to put it under a cut for mobile. If someone tells me how to do it, I’m more than happy to put a Read More in...I just need to know how to do it because the methods on Google are proving useless.

Word count: 22k....again. 

Rating: NC-17. There’s a lot going on here. 

Warnings: uhhhh Dom/Sub undertones, Daddy Henry, spitting, spanking, oral (F and M receiving), choking, unprotected sex, humiliation kink, I’m sure I’m missing something. IDK it’s nasty that’s all you need to know. 

Title comes from OK Go. 

~~~

You’d fucked up again. You were going batshit having to be cooped up in the house. You understood and supported the reasoning behind quarantine, hell, you even appreciated it at first since it gave you some much needed time with Henry. But the excitement of lock down had worn off a month ago and now you were starting to lose it. Taking Kal for a walk and breathing in fresh air only satiated you momentarily, but the buzzing in your bones, the itch to move and get up and do something would creep back in in short order.

Your frustration with quarantine had been mounting for weeks, but you hadn’t taken it out on Henry. Until last night. You’d been a brat, straight up RUDE to him at certain points during the evening, yet he’d kept his cool. You’d complained and pouted about his choice for dinner (he knew you hated fish yet still made it, leaving you to fend for yourself), you’d stomped around when he sat down at his fancy new gaming computer to play with his brothers for a bit, and you’d even pulled the curtains off the rod when he asked you to pick up your clothes that were littering your bedroom floor (only because you couldn’t do your laundry when HE was commandeering the washer and dryer for himself!). You were being an absolute fucking terror. You’d gone to bed huffy, only humming when he laid down next to you and said he loved you before turning out the lights.

It wasn’t unusual for you to wake up around 4AM to get a glass of water or use the restroom, nor was it unusual for Henry to already be up and at em by that time. You were a stark contrast to each other, with people always commenting on your contrasting features, preferences, and personalities.

You’d gotten up for water, deciding the chug the glass in the kitchen and leaving it on the counter for later before returning to your room. Seeing his side of the bed empty was normal, and Kal’s absence as well hinted to him being in his makeshift gym space in the garage.  You walked back to your room, already salivating at the thought of burying yourself back into the pillow and comforter nest. You’d just crossed the threshold to your room when he decided to strike.

Your arms were jerked behind your back, a twinge going off in one of your shoulders at the abrupt and uncomfortable movement.  Your momentum moved you backwards, your body hitting the absolute brick wall that was your boyfriend. You couldn’t help the gasp that escaped your mouth.

“Henry-“

He wound his arm around your waist, the left anchoring on your right hip to hold you to him, the right coming up to your face to cover your nose and mouth.

You couldn’t tell which was louder in your ears, your panting or your racing heart.

He placed his lips lightly against the shell of your ear, “Do you want to tell me why you were being such a fucking brat last night?”

Your eyes flashed; you figured he would just let it go. He’d let all of your minor outbursts go, but last night was clearly his tipping point, even if he’d maintained the picture of cool, calm, and collected in front of you. The fact that he was saying anything at all said enough. You shook your head, afraid to even speak at this point. He pushed you forward, ordering you get on the edge of the bed and lay back. You did as he said.

“Grab your ankles and spread your legs.” You reached down and wound your arms around your legs to grab your ankles; it was the most comfortable way for you to lay while opening you up as much as possible.

“Safe word?”

“P—“, you tried to speak, but your voice cracked. You closed your eyes, grounding yourself, and swallowed deeply before looking up at him and saying, “Peaches.”  

“And if you cannot speak?”

You shook your head side to side while humming an “uh, uh, uh” sound.

You laid there panting and gripping your ankles, eyes tracking his movements as he slowly made his way over to his dresser. He’d clearly skipped his workout this morning, probably in favor of the cardio he was about to put in with you. He’d taken the time to get dressed instead, wearing black, fitted slacks with a dress shirt and he’d even donned a tie. He faced away from you as he undid his cuff links.

And you thought you were over dramatic.

He turned around while rolling his sleeves up and moved his way over to the edge of the bed that you were currently resting on. You were thankful for your preferred pajamas of skimpy undies and a loose tank top. He looked down at you while you looked everywhere but directly in his eyes. He reached down and moves your shirt up to expose your tits, then hooks two fingers into the fabric of your thong, yanking the material to the side.

“You know why you’re here. You know what you did. And you know what you’re gonna do to make it up to me, don’t you?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

As soon as the words were out of your mouth, he slapped your pussy. You jerked and whined, torn between the pain and pleasure it brought. He looked down with a wolfish grin and grabbed the hair at the crown of your head, yanking you up slightly so you could see yourself. “Look at me.”  

The moment your eyes connected, he slapped you again. And again. And again. He was purposely striking his middle finger against your slit, bumping your clit, making you throb. He struck you one more time, the hardest hit yet, and you squealed at the pain. You let go of your ankles without even thinking—

“What did I tell you?!”

You whimper and reach for your ankles as quickly as possible.

“You won’t let go again, will you?”

You breathe out a quick “No, daddy” before he smiles and tightens his grip on your hair.

“No, you won’t,” he says mockingly, shaking your head back and forth so you have no choice but to reinforce his comment.

He undoes his belt, and you think for a minute that maybe he’ll take pity on you, offer a sliver of mercy, and he’ll just bind you together so you don’t even have to worry about keeping your limbs connected. He throws his belt on the ground instead.

He ceases movement, looks at you, just drinking in your appearance. You don’t want to piss him off any more than he already is, and you’re barely even breathing so that you don’t make a peep and interrupt his moment. He tilts his head to the side and quirks up one side of his mouth; he can see the fear and adrenaline and excitement in your own eyes. He knows his baby girl just needs the brat fucked out of her, needs the excess energy worked out every now and again.

He kneels down in front of you, and you’re confused for a moment as he levels his face with your pussy. Isn’t this supposed to be a punishment?

He grips your hips, pulling you even closer to his mouth. “Don’t cum,” and then he spears you with his tongue. Your eyes roll back and you let out a loud groan. He licks into you, swirling his tongue in your hole before dragging it up to your clit. He starts flicking back and forth while he grips your thigh with his left hand. He spanks the side of your thigh with the other so hard it leaves a mark. You can’t focus on the dual sensations, mind going back and forth between at the sting of the slap and the burning of a mounting climax.

Henry spanks you again, and then leans back and you see him purse his lips. He spits on your slit, using his index and middle fingers to rub it in before hooking his fingers in your hole. He doesn’t bother to give you any time to adjust, just starts swirling them like he did with his tongue, but reaching even deeper. You feel him brush his fingers over your cervix, circling over your g-spot on the way out before thrusting them back in again. You jerk at the feeling and moan wantonly. He’s pulling out the big guns.

“Ohhh, are you close? You look like it. Be a shame if you broke the rules right now during a punishment.”  

He’s trying to kill you.

He moves the hand gripping your hip up to your tits, grabbing them one at a time, rolling each nipple between his fingers and then pulling. You’re so fucking close. He’s alternating between rubbing and tapping inside of you, making you slicker with every moment. You can’t do this much longer even though you’re trying your best.

“Daddy. I-I can’t. I’m trying. Feels too good. I’m—“

He yanks his fingers out of you, let’s go of your tits, and it just went from 100 to 0 way too fast. You let out an involuntary whine.

“You don’t get to cum right now. This is a punishment.”  

With that, he stands up, reaches towards you and grabs the hair on the crown of your head. He jerks you up this time, “Let go of your legs,” and you follow the way his hand is guiding you by the hair. You go to stand up, but he moves his arm down.

Oh.

You get on your knees, letting your fingertips graze the floor, not sure if he’s really doing this or not. He takes a step in front of you. He undoes his button and fly, reaches in to get his cock out. Smart of him to skip the underwear. He’s still holding you by your hair, and guides you to his cock that he’s steadying with his other hand.

“Open.”  

You open your mouth immediately, sticking your tongue out as he had trained you to do. He slaps the tip against your tongue a few times, then leans down suddenly. His face is inches from yours. He spits in your mouth. You know better than to close.

He sticks his cock fully in your mouth then, not wasting any time. You feel him pull his foreskin back and you circle your tongue around the head, earning you a grunt that goes straight to your pussy. He slowly but surely picks up the pace, yet remaining gentle in his thrusts as he moves in and out of your mouth. He’s got a rhythm going and you’re getting lost in the feeling of him heavy on your tongue when suddenly, he doesn’t push back in and just lets his tip rest on your tongue.

You’ve worked on this. He slowly forces himself into your throat as much as he can. He’s big. While he doesn’t truly know that you’ll ever get to the point where you can graze his balls with your tongue when you’ve got his cock down your throat, he still likes to see you try. He likes to hear the sounds you make as you realize you need to breathe, likes to feel the flutter of your throat around him when you start to panic as you get more desperate for oxygen. This time is no different, and he just stands there and waits, enjoying the heat of your mouth while waiting for the panic to set in. He takes his time, slowly undoing his tie and unbuttoning his shirt, removing it from his body. He leans forward to put it on the bed, mostly so he chokes you with his cock just a little bit more. He sees your fingers starting to tap against your thigh—won’t be long now. Like a checklist, your nostrils flare. Then, your eyes start to well up. He reaches down with the hand not still gripping your hair and grabs his dick again. He moves it in small circles, swirling it in your throat. His abs jump and he moans loudly. He feels the flutter of your throat...check. Your throat jumps and he yanks his dick out; you gasp for air as he releases growling pants from his own lungs. Henry turns slightly, making sure to keep a grip on you by the hair. He leans to the side that you are on and takes a step forward.

Okay.

You put your palms flush to the floor and start moving. Henry leads you across the room by your hair, making you follow him on your hands and knees.

He sits on the couch with you still on your knees in front of him. He lets go of your hair and softly cups your cheeks.

“Touch yourself.”  

You immediately reached down-

“Ah, ah.”

You look up to see his eyebrows raised.

“Go slowly.”

Your move your hand back up a few inches to your tits. You grab one with your hand, enjoying the feeling of it. You slowly caress across your chest, and then grab your left nipple between your fingers. You roll it and tug a little before giving the right the same treatment. You reach up to your mouth to wet your fingers before returning them to your nipples to swirl saliva around each of them. The cool air reacts with the warmth of your spit, making your nipples even harder and the throbbing in your pussy more intense.

You look back up at Henry and let out a breathy “Please, Daddy,” before opening your mouth and sitting back on your heels quietly. He reaches a hand out, brushes his thumb over your lip, and guides you forward and back to his cock.

You grip it in both hands, stimulating what you can’t fit in your mouth. You’re moving up and down at a steady pace, keeping suction while swirling your tongue every time you come back up to the head and rotating your hands in opposite directions on the up stroke. He groans deep from his chest. You come up with a pop and put one hand on his thigh to anchor yourself while you keep twisting the other hand on his cock, moving lower to sweep your tongue on his balls before taking each of them into your mouth. His hands returns to your hair, though much more gentle this time, while his head hits the back of the couch and he releases a moan. He affectionately pulls your hair back and out of your face for you before transferring it all to one hand and his other hand reaches down to link with the one you had resting on his thigh.

Even when punishing you, he shows bits of affection. He is your anchor amidst the chaos of the sea that is your mind.

You move your mouth back up and lick the length of his dick before lavishing more attention upon the tip. His hips start to roll minutely, and he knows this will be over sooner than he wants it to be if he lets you continue.

“Come here,” Henry grunts out.

You slowly pull off his dick and rise to your feet, unsure of where exactly he wants you. He lifts his hips and shucks his pants down to his ankles.

He reaches forward and grabs you behind your knees, pulling forward until you fit yourself on top of him, caging him between your widely spread thighs to accommodate the muscle mass between them.

He promptly moves you over his dick and starting guiding you down, knowing you’ve been soaked since the second he laid his hands on you beyond the doorway. He makes you take it all in one go, thighs meeting his quickly and making you gasp out “Daddy,” before placing your hands on his pecs to steady yourself from the sudden fullness. Your eyes roll to the back of your head a little bit.

You’re rubbing his chest hair with one hand, an odd habit you’ve picked up over the years spent with him that calms you down.

Henry leans back, resting his arms on the back of the couch, and commands, “Ride.” You roll your hips and lift up only to let gravity pull you back down. Even with your effort to pull up, you’re only making it halfway up his cock. He’s so big. You’re so full. You keep moving, panting both with the effort and the slow burn that’s built back up in your pussy. He shifts his hips to slouch down on the couch, giving you more room to move. You’re able to go a bit faster, rolling your hips forward and back. You’re so turned on, so soaked, it’s almost hard to get any friction.

“You’re so fucking wet, sweetheart. Can hear it. Can feel you dripping down onto my balls already. Such a good slut for Daddy, hm?”

He’s really trying to kill you.

You can only move your hips so fast, and you need more. He’s got his hands on your hips now, trying to guide you faster and faster on top of it. You’re teetering on the edge of an orgasm, but can’t quite grasp it. You need something only Daddy can give you.

He stands up suddenly, still holding you by the hips, and now you’re impaled on him. His strength never ceases to surprise you. You’re shaking from him constantly rubbing against your cervix as he walks forward towards your large vanity. You’ve buried your face into his neck, whispering, “I’m sorry, Daddy. I’m so sorry. Need you. I’m sorry.”

“I’m not sure you are.”

He lifts you up slightly and sets you down in front of the vanity; you’re missing his cock already. He reaches up and grips you by the throat with both hands, putting just enough pressure on your neck to make you lightheaded. He kisses you gently at first, a ghost of a touch against your lips, deepening the kiss after awhile. He pulls away slowly, leaving a string of spit connecting your tongues. You’re mesmerized, put under a spell by the shiny thread linking you two together, so you’re taken aback when Henry spins you around and pushes your back forward. You take the hint and push your tits against the wood of the vanity, bracing your hands against the edge. You spread your thighs slightly and shake your ass at him, inviting him back into your depths.

He pulls your head up by your hair yet again, and when you link your eyes with him in the mirror, he spears into you.

“Yes, Daddy, ah!”

He’s able to thrust so much faster in this position and he isn’t holding back. He’s jack hammering into you, gripping your hip hard enough to leave bruises. “Fucking keep looking at me,” he hisses at you, yanking your head back up. You keep curling in on yourself from the pressure and pleasure, trying not to come before he says you can. He’s staring at you in the mirror, lip curling up on one side as he watches your face crumble in what would look like pain to an innocent bystander, but what he really knows is intense pleasure. You love getting fucked from behind, but he likes to see your face as he unravels you, and it seems as though you’ve stumbled upon a compromise.

“Daddy, gonna cum, please let me cum, please, please!”

You’re not above begging. You’re throbbing and you’re seconds away from exploding. He growls, crowding you into the vanity so you’re more upright than before. Your hips are slamming into the wood, and the pain against the bone is an amazing contrast to the pulsing pleasure of your pussy. You rest your head back against his shoulder. He reaches his right hand up to your throat and turns your head to whisper in your ear, “Look at me, you fucking slut,” while his other hand snakes down between your legs to your clit. He’s rubbing you and fucking you and choking you and kissing the side of your head and it’s all too much.

“I can feel you clenching. Not yet, baby girl.”

You’re trembling now; you’re trying desperately to hold back your orgasm until he tells you you can have it. Tears are pricking at the corners of your eyes, and you’re whimpering, “Daddy,” over and over like a broken record.

He pulls away.

You cry out, so desperate for some sort of release. He grabs you by the crooks of your elbows and yanks your arms behind your back. “You gonna be good for me, now? Not gonna be a fucking brat to me anymore?”

“No, Daddy, gonna be a good girl. Gonna be so good,” you somehow manage to pant out.

Henry walks you forward to the bed, returning you to the edge in your original position on your back. He grips his dick and moves his foreskin slowly back and forth just over the tip, running the head over your clit each time it’s exposed.

“Please. Just wanna come.”

“Aww, you wanna come, sweetheart? Beg for it.” And with that, he pushes back inside you, folding you in half as he surrounds himself in your warm. By the time his tip touches your cervix, your knees are almost touching your ears. You’re absolutely surrounded by him while he pounds into you. You’re so fucking close. You can hear yourself slick around him; can feel your wetness where it dripped down your ass and onto your thighs. You reach your hands up and grasp his forearms, clinging for dear life.

Henry leans onto one of his hands, grabbing yours in his and guiding it down your tummy. He sets it on your pelvis.  

“Come on, sweetheart.” You don’t even really need to touch your clit to get off at this point, but what Daddy wants, Daddy gets.

The minute you reach down and touch your clit, it’s over. It’s like you’ve been struck by lightning. You’re so sensitive. You cry out loudly at the contact and your fingers start to circle your clit in earnest. Henry shifts up slightly, folding you in even more somehow and lowering his torso closer to yours. He moves his knees up onto the bed and cages your head between forearms. He leans down nose to nose with you, smiles brightly, and says, “cum.”

You black out. You’re pretty sure the shrieking is you, but you can’t be sure at this point. You can’t even be sure you’re still alive at this point. You’re dripping and soaking his cock and pulsing around him and convulsing on the bed with your head thrown back. It’s one of the most intense orgasms you’ve ever had.

Your climax triggers Henry’s and he roars through it. Normally, he has no problem fucking you through a handful of orgasms before he even thinks about his own, but your pleasure is so intense and you look so beautiful, all undone underneath him that he can’t help it. His hips stutter, his head tucking into the nook of your neck to pant through it while he absolutely fills you up.

When he’s finished, he pulls up slightly to look at your face, noticing you’re still shaking and looking at him with wild eyes. He huffs out a laugh, leaning down to kiss you deeply before pulling out of you. He backs up to watch his cum drip out of you slightly and growls again at the sight of it.

He walks to the en-suite and gets a warm washcloth and wipes between your thighs while you still lay there is a daze. Once he’s done, he tosses the rag in a laundry basket and climbs onto the bed, dragging you up with him so you’re laying on his chest. You’re shivering now, and he leans down to kiss your head and put your hand on his chest hair. He holds your hand, rubbing it back and forth for you while helping you relax.

“Daddy?,” you manage to whisper out after awhile.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“I am sorry, you know. I wasn’t trying to be mean. I was just so bored.”

He looks down at you fondly, shaking his head. “I know. Sometimes you just need to be put in your place. All brats do.”

[mynumberfivethings]

Little!five and separation anxiety??

“Hey, I’m headed out, does anybody need anything from the store? I’ll stop by on my way back home tonight.” Vanya announces to the room at large. 

Five peeks up from his morning newspaper with a raised brow. “You’re leaving?” he asks. Allison is in California for the next two weeks with Klaus, who convinced her he’d behave if she let him tag along. Diego’s consulting on a case with the PD at the moment, so he hasn’t been home much the last few days. And Luther is working a double today at the local boxing gym-he left early in the morning after making some elaborate protein shake Five poked fun at him for. 

Vanya nods, “New client downtown and then I’ve got practice with the orchestra-I’ll be home in time for dinner though.” she throws her bag over her shoulder and then straps her violin case across her chest. “So, anything from the store?” 

Ben hums. “Can you get more of those vanilla cookies for the pantry? I think we’re almost out.” 

“Gotcha. Alright, see you guys tonight.” she waves goodbye and strolls out of the room, leaving Ben and Five to their own devices for the rest of the day. 

After a few minutes of silence Ben pushes his chair back and puts his plate in the sink to soak. “Five, I think I’m gonna visit the library today,” he decides. “Need anything?” 

Five sits up straight and puts his newspaper down fully. “Why? We have a library here.” he furrows his brows in confusion, frowning. 

Ben chuckles. “Well, Dads library isn’t exactly full of books for leisurely reading.” 

Five would beg to differ-”Cosmological Inflation and Large-Scale Structure” was a rather leisurely read, in his opinion. But he knows Ben’s recently gotten a taste for comic books and there’s absolutely no way in hell Reginald would have ever allowed such childish things in his library. “Right.” Five scratches the back of his head anxiously. He’s not sure exactly why he’s suddenly got this weird tightening in his chest, but he does. 

“When will you be back?” 

Ben shrugs. “Not sure. Probably before dinner, though.” 

“Do you mind if I come with you?” Five blurts out. “I-” he clears his throat. “There’s a book I’ve been looking for but I don’t think we have it here.” 

Ben tilts his head. Five is a homebody, Ben’s discovered, in the last few months since he was brought back to life. He enjoys sitting at home and reading books, occasionally he’ll watch Jeopardy and put the contestants on the show to shame with the odd amount of trivia he actually knows, but mostly he really only goes out if it’s necessary or if Allison plans a fun family outing and Five is in his little headspace.  

“Sure, I don’t mind. You wanna drive?” 

Five rolls his eyes. “I can just blink us over there.” 

Ben sighs, “Fine, but try to teleport us somewhere at least kind of inconspicuous?” The last time Five agreed to bring him somewhere Ben got an earful from a woman they scared half to death by suddenly appearing out of seemingly thin air not two feet away from her in the bread aisle of the grocery mart. 

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

The library is quiet today, which isn’t too surprising considering it’s before noon on a Wednesday. 

“I’m gonna go check out the upstairs.” Ben half whispers, already going towards the stairwell. 

Five watches Ben walk away with a longing he can’t quite place. He rests his palm against his chest-there’s an ache there he can’t identify. All he knows is that he wants to follow his brother, but he also knows what odd behavior that is. He’s not in his little headspace right now, after all. He doesn’t need to be chaperoned like a child, despite the body he’s in. 

Instead, Five decides to roam about the History section a bit. 

There’s a giggling that calls his attention about fifteen minutes into his browsing; he looks up to find across the library in the Childrens Books section a young mother and her toddler. She’s shushing the child, but there’s a smile on her face and she’s holding up a Dr. Seuss hardcover and pointing out the silly rhymes and the even sillier made up creatures. She’s sitting down with the boy in her lap and he’s curled up against her looking the picture of warm and snug and...happy. 

“Shit.” Five gulps. He can feel it coming on, can feel his control coming apart at the seams. Not here, he thinks, not now. But the tears prickling at the edges of his eyes tell him he’s got little say in the matter. 

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

Ben thought Five might join him upstairs after a while but it’s been about a half hour now and his brother’s nowhere to be seen. Curious to see what’s gotten Fives attention, he heads back downstairs. 

Ben looks practically everywhere-first in the sections where he thinks Five would most be drawn to-when he’s had no luck he starts to worry. Five knows better than to teleport without letting one of them know if he’s going elsewhere. It took him a while to learn that, in fact. 

“Um, excuse me, sorry to bother you,” he begins, speaking to the woman at the front desk, “But is there a chance you saw where my brother might’ve gone? I can’t find him anywhere. He’s thirteen, about this tall, black hair-” 

Thankfully there are so few people in the library at the moment that it doesn’t take much for the librarian to recognize who he’s talking about. “Oh, I think I saw him head for the restroom, right that way, to your left.” 

Ben thanks her profusely before heading in that direction. He steps foot inside and he can see Five’s shoes peeking out from under the one stall that’s not empty. “I’m gonna check out a couple of books and head to the Starbucks across the street, so meet me there when you’re done here, ok?” he calls out. 

He’s expecting an annoyed. “Fine.”-no one, Five most of all, likes to be interrupted while in the bathroom, after all. 

But instead he’s surprised to hear a stifled sob and a small, nearly inaudible. “Kay.” 

Ben immediately marches up to the stall, his concern coming back tenfold. “Five? Hey, you ok? What’s wrong? Did something happen?” 

Another stifled sob. “N-no.” 

That’s definitely little Five in there, no doubt about it, Ben confirms in his head. “Five, can you open the door for me, please? I just wanna make sure you’re ok.” 

It takes a second and some fumbling with the latch but when Five does open it, it’s only to reveal a splotchy red face streaked with tears and a runny nose. 

Ben pulls him into his arms without a second thought and squeezes. “What’s the matter?” Five melts into him, his little hiccups turning to sobs. 

“Don’t leave.” Five cries. “Don’t wanna be alone anymore. Please.” 

Ben’s heart shatters and he holds his baby brother all the tighter. Five has been acting a bit out of sorts since Allison and Klaus left, and then with everyone else in the house so busy lately that they’re barely ever there during waking hours-well, Ben can see now why Five’s been extra attentive when his few remaining siblings decide to leave the house. 

“I’m not going anywhere, I promise. I’m sorry I didn’t realize you were feeling this way sooner.” He manages to pick Five up pretty easily-the kid, unfortunately, doesn’t weigh much-and Five latches on instantly, his legs wrapping around Bens waist and his arms around his neck. 

He tucks his face against Ben’s neck and huffs out another sob. “Wanna go home.” 

Ben rocks him gently back and forth, rubbing a hand up and down his back comfortingly. “Of course.” They’re going to have to take the bus, seeing that they didn’t bring the car, Ben is thinking, just as suddenly they’re transported from the library mens room to Ben’s bedroom back at the Umbrella Academy. 

Ben blinks. Five doesn’t often use his powers when he’s in his little headspace-big Five has explained it to them before that when he does, it’s more of a reflex than anything, and oftentimes he ends up three feet to the left of where he’d intended to land, which doesn’t seem like too bad of a miscalculation, until it is. 

Ben sets Five down on his bed, intending to go into the kitchen and prepare him a nice warm bottle, but that’s a mistake, if the look of absolute devastation on Fives face has anything to say about it. Ben holds out a hand. “C’mere buddy, we can go downstairs together, ok?” 

Five takes the offered hand with both of his, gripping on like it’s a lifeline. 

Ben gives in once they’re in the kitchen and picks a sniffling Five up and props him up on his hip while he goes about heating up the milk. “You know,” Ben says quietly. “You can tell us if you’re ever feeling lonely or scared or...anything, really. I know you were alone for a really long time.” 

He can feel Five stiffen up in his arms. “Scary.” he mutters. And that’s all he has to say to that. The milk boils and Ben does some kind of magic trick in order to fill the bottle up while also holding onto a little. They end up back in Ben’s room and this time he sits down on the bed with Five on his lap. “Don’t wanna nap.” he whines softly, even though his eyes are already fluttering as Ben rocks him gently. 

“But you’re so sleepy already.” Ben chuckles at the yawn Five tries to stifle. 

Five shakes his head stubbornly. “Don’t want you to go.” 

Ben tugs Five in closer to his chest and leans down to kiss him on his forehead. “I won’t. I swear I’ll be right here when you wake up, ok?” 

Five looks up at him with big, teary eyes. “Ok.” 

Ben decides the milk is just at the right temperature now for Five to drink and so he places the bottle at Fives lips and sure enough the little opens up and sucks on the teat hungrily. The milk they feed Five is a special milk full of proteins and a decent amount of calories-it’s honestly the only way to get their brother to eat most days. So Ben is relieved when Five ends up drinking the entire thing instead of leaving it half full, as he’s prone to doing. 

Five is clearly drowsy, his eyes closing and then opening abruptly as he forces himself to stay awake. “Here, let’s try this.” Ben says, adjusting them so that they’re both laying down on the bed. He pulls Five in towards his chest and Five goes willingly, more than happy to be engulfed in Bens warmth. 

Vanya finds her two brothers sleeping in exactly that position a couple of hours later-her practice having been postponed for a later date. She grins and takes her phones out to snap a photo-ok, several photos-and sends them to the family group chat. 

[wackapedia]

Moving Day

Jin x reader, Fluff, Humor, Supernatural?? 2k words When Jin heard you will be packing up the music room equipment for the new Hybe building, he immediately invited himself to help hang out with you Warnings: Jin gets a little scare, y/n is being thirsty on main

The smell of fresh paint goes straight to your brain the moment you enter the room. You were fairly certain the walls were still moist as you sort out your equipment into your new office. Moving into Big Hit's new office building meant reducing your daily routine of writing and editing music into packing and unpacking boxes of files, equipment, and instruments which was the biggest hassle. Ask Min Yoongi, he agrees. In fact, you held one of the longest conversations with him while helping him sort out the music room of the old Gangnam office late one night. Yes. THAT one night. Big Hit somehow held a paranoia of outsourcing movers to help you to at least find a box for this electronic keyboard. Which is how you ended up with a 5-minute rant hosted by the great SUGA PD. "Security compromise my ass. What are they gonna do, film a building tour while moving up boxes?" Yoongi heaves a sigh, dropping himself like jello among the coiled wires. "Ho boy, you don't know how crazy these media people can go for a glimpse of that building..." You answer, squeezing a roll of wires into the box labelled accordingly before taping it shut and setting it near the door. Just then, Seokjin enters while catching his breath. Sweat caused his shirt to cling to his toned body, making you mutter an 'oh damn' under your breath for the sixth time this evening. "Load up the mixer and the box of wires. We'll find a box for the keyboard tomorrow. I'm starving." Yoongi orders his hyung and then sprawls himself on the floor. "Yah, I'm the one whos supposed to order you around!" Jin positions himself in front of the electric fan, raising his shirt up his chest to dry up his sweat. Oh damn. "You know what, we can just order food here so we can head straight to bed when we get to our homes." You declare. Yoongi groans in approval, crawling his way to his phone to place an order. Jin stacks up the mixer and the box of wires to load it downstairs. "I'll have jajangmyeon!" He tells Yoongi who acknowledges. You try not to observe how Jin's arms flex or how his strong thighs support the weight. "Are you done staring? Can you order now?" Yoongi claps in front of your face. You smack his good shoulder in retaliation. "Stop being rude!" "Ow, did you just hit me?! Show some respect to your elders!" Yoongi playfully reacts. "Well, you weren't a very good example earlier!" -------- Jin knew exactly what he was doing. He was riling you up with his unnecessary grunting, random shirt-raising, and strength-flexing right in front of you. He knew about your crush on him. He just enjoys giving you a show from time to time. Don't get him wrong though, he likes you too. A lot. He thinks you're cute when you pretend to not stare at him at times. No one asked him to help with moving the equipment but as soon as he overheard you talking about packing them up, he invited his handsome self to the party, keeping his eye on a certain Min Yoongi, who may or may not be making a move on you. Jin hoists the boxes up his chest as he makes his way through the hallway, struggling to press the elevator button to open. It was 9:15 pm, no one else was there since the rest of the rooms have been emptied days ago. Jin makes that little surprised squeak when the elevator door opens and reveals you, standing there. "Ah, you scared me there." He says, chuckling. "My hands are full, can you press the basement button?" Jin raises the box and pretends to have an easy time carrying the heavy box. Its showtime. The elevator closes and slowly descends. Seokjin racks his mind for some small talk with you. He hates being put on the spot. "Do you know which floor your new office will be?" He attempts. "I hope it will be near ours..." "Hmm..." Was the only reply he got. You were keeping your head down, probably containing your blush - Jin presumes. The doors open to the basement where a truck was waiting for the last boxes of the day. Jin deposits them on the rear containment before helping the staff driver shut the locks and respectfully thanks him for the job. Just as the truck makes its way out, Jin's phone rings from his pocket. "Y/n ;)" Jin looks back to the now empty elevator whose doors were left open, wondering why were you calling him. His thumb automatically swipes to take the call. Wait, is that... What's that stain on the elevator floor? "Y/n?" Jin answers, moving toward the elevator to investigate the red moisture on the floor. "Jin, the restaurant called, said they ran out of jajangmyeon. Would you like to have udon instead?" Your voice crackles through his phone speakers. Jin's eyebrows knit in confusion. "Noo, its gonna smell like udon around here.." Yoongi whines from the other end. "Its fine, were moving out anyway. Jin? What are you having?" You ask again. "A-are you upstairs? In the music room?" Jin stutters, looking around but finding no one else on the basement parking. "Right where you left us. Udon? Decide now, we're on the phone with the delivery guy!" Jin's brain was short-circuiting in the worst possible way. "Jin? Are you okay? Where are you?" Your worried voice alerts Jin to answer. "I'm at the basement y/n, can you please pick me up?" "O...kay?" "And don't use the elevator! And please stay on the phone..." ------- Your veins suddenly fill with adrenaline upon hearing Jin's shaky voice over the phone. Hopping up from the floor, you sprint out of the room, leaving Yoongi to speak with the delivery guy. "Jin, should I call security?" You stay on the phone as instructed while you make your way down the flight of stairs. "No, just please get over here.." Jin screams as the metal doors of the stairwell scrape against the concrete floor revealing your breathless form. Kim Seokjin rushes over to you and throws his 5'10" self on you. "The hell is going on?!“ you frantically look around the empty parking lot. "You were in the elevator with me and then you, who apparently isn't you, suddenly disappeared and there's blood on the elevator!" Jin's weight drowns you as he struggles to explain what just happened. You were beyond confused but relieved to find Seokjin not mauled by some crazy fan or paparazzi, but you were worried with what he was trying to explain. You take slow steps toward the closed elevator while Jin walks behind you, squeezing your waist with his arms, caging you between his chest. You look up to the digital counter of the elevator counting down: [G] [B1] [B2] And it stops. The doors rattle before opening, revealing a pale figure. Jin begins to pull you away by your waist, constricting your already labored breathing. The scream holds itself on your throat when you realize exactly what was in front of you. Rather, who. "Yah, I already said I was paying, but you guys are going extreme lengths to make sure of that!" Yoongi raises a bag of takeout. You were so relieved, you could cry. "I am never coming back to this building I swear to god..." Jin crouches on the floor, exhausted. "What are you guys talking about?" Yoongi realizes the gravity of the situation. "Lets just go eat at the dorms, please." Jin fishes for his car keys which were fortunately in his pocket and hands it to Yoongi. ---- "Ahh. I've heard that before..." Yoongi nods from the driver's seat after Jin explained to him his whole elevator experience. "I'm serious! I saw y/n in the elevator and wondered how did she get there when she was just in the music room when I left!" Jin defends, but is too tired to actually raise his voice. He was practically lying down on the backseat, his head on your lap. "No, I mean, I've heard the other staff talk about that. One guy was seen in the third floor while someone also said he was at the gym at that time. Its called a doppleganger." "But how is that even possible! She totally looked like y/n, her clothes, her height, though I didn't see her face... But it really looked like her!" "Can we please not talk about this anymore?" You were a little more than creeped out to listen to Jin talk about a ghost (or whatever) that looked exactly like you, leaving trails of blood and freaking people out around the building. ------ "Jin-hyung saw a doppleganger of y/n at the office basement!" Was Yoongi's introductory statement as he enters the dorm, greeting Namjoon in the living room. "Whoa, awesome!" Jungkook sits up at the couch wanting to hear more about it. Yoongi relays what Jin had said in the car, leaving you and Jin in the kitchen to unpack the food. Yoongi was feeling really chatty that night, because even when you've finished your food, Yoongi was still discussing doppelgangers with Namjoon and Jungkook. "Noona, it says here that your doppleganger manifests itself to other people when you're in danger!" Jungkook delivers the news excitedly, wiggling his eyebrows. "That's great!" You answer sarcastically. ------- "Yoongiii-aahhh~ I can't sleep~!" Seokjin whines to his roommate from his bedroll on the floor. He insisted that you sleep in for tonight, worried about what Jungkook had read online. You, on the other hand, were too scared to travel home and sleep alone so late at night that you agreed to take Seokjin's bed for the night. "If you won't shut up, I'm leaving you alone." Yoongi threatens. "Can we at least have the lights on?" You murmur from underneath the covers. "No." Sleep eventually took over you and Jin, due to the exhaustion and the scare of the evening. In the morning, Jimin, Hoseok, and Taehyung were surprised to see you walk in the kitchen wearing  RJ pajamas that were obviously not yours. You were prepared to face a new morning, refreshed and recharged, undeterred from last night's events. Before you could greet the boys a good morning however, Jungkook comes bounding into the room announcing "Jin saw y/n's doppleganger last night!" "Ah, daebak!" Were the maknaes' collective reactions. 'Oh shit' was Hoseok's. The next few days were uneventful. After breakfast, Jin drove you to your place and stayed a little longer just to make sure you were out of danger. There was also no reason for you to be at the old office, to which you were thankful for. Now you were in your freshly painted office, making sure all six of the "y/n" labelled boxes were present. Seokjin wheels in your computer chair with a shooky neck pillow on the headrest and leaves. Hm, You wonder where Jin's office is. Leaving the mess of your office, you visit the floor's reception table to ask about the artists' office arrangements. "Yoongi's is next to yours, and then next to it is Namjoon's." "Mmm... And Jin's?" "Oh, Seokjin hasn't dropped by yet, but he might pick the one across yours..." Yeji, the receptionist, smiles knowingly. Wait. "He.. He hasn't- you mean he isn't here?" You ask, a little too loudly. Yeji nonchalantly fixes her new Hybe lanyard. "Well, if he were here, you'd know because he always drops by to greet you, right?" "Thats the thing, I think I saw him in my office just a while ago..." You begin to put two and two together. "Y/n. I've been standing here for hours now, I would've noticed Mister Worldwide Shoulders Kim Seokjin walk out of those elevators but I didn't!" Yeji raises a fleeked eyebrow. Just then, the elevator opens to reveal two of Bangtan's OG maknaes, Jungkook and Jin. "Oh there he is! Jin!" Yeji waves him over. "Y/n and I was just arguing about whether you've arrived here or not because she claims to have seen you around the floor a few minutes ago." Jungkook, who was listening in, immediately realizes. "Ah daebak! The doppleganger moved in with us!" -------- Translation: Daebak (대밬): awesome

[yayeetsonny]

New Beginnings~Chapter 3

This is shorter than I’d like but hopefully that’s okay. I noticed my timeline was all screwed up so the book is actually set in 2020, my bad. Also the pandemic doesn’t exist in this universe. Enjoy!

4 1/2 Months later…

Ryley PRO//

It’s been over 4 months since my accident and I am finally out of all my casts and no longer have to use a wheelchair to get around or write with my other hand. I won’t sugar coat it the first 4 months were hell and there was a lot of tears and lot of moments where I wanted to give up but Christen, Alex and our teammates made it all worth it. They helped me through the lows of physical therapy and they were there to celebrate the highs too. They had to return home after the first 2 weeks but came to visit at least once a month if not more. I was initially worried that I wasn’t going to recover in time for the Olympics at the end of July but after putting in a lot of work and pushing myself past my limits sometimes I was able to get through physical therapy much sooner than expected and I was able to show Vlatko that I still deserved a spot on that roster.

After that scare I had in the first month when I woke up not being able to breath the girls took me to a doctor and I learned that I did in fact have asthma and that I had experienced a laryngospasm because of it. I was given an inhaler and everything was explained to me so now I know what to do if it happens again, but I haven’t had one since, nor have I had any asthma attacks. Alex and Chris hovered a lot after that but now they’re much better at trusting that I’ll be okay.

I ended up finishing my junior year online and when I was able I moved back to the group home in Colorado. I didn’t want to but I couldn’t remain under Christen and Alex’s care if I wanted to be able to travel with the team this summer to Japan. They would have had to adopt me in order for that to work but I still wasn’t ready and they understood. We still text and call all the time of course and they come to visit me when they can. I still haven’t told them the true extent of how poorly I’m treated here but I decided that was for the best. 

It was warm out today and I had decided to ride my skateboard around town, my free time before I had to leave for the olympics was coming to an end so I had to take full advantage of it. We would be getting on a plane in a week and then hopefully we would return home with the gold and we could say that we pulled off the impossible: World Cup champions one year and olympic gold medalist the next. 

I reluctantly decide to head back to the group home after another hour and when I get there it’s no surprise that the house is full of potential adoptive parents and families. After politely introducing myself to a few of the people I make my way upstairs knowing no one would be interested in getting to know me. I check my phone and see I have a few texts and missed calls from Alex.

“Hey sweet girl, hope you’re having a good day. Chris and I Love and miss you.”

Read one text

I decided to call her as I had been missing their voices. She picked up on the third ring

“Hello?” Came her raspy voice through the phone.

“Hi Alex.”

“Well hello my sweet girl, how are we doing today?”

“I’m doing good, I miss you guys though.”

“I know but we’ll see you really soon.”

“Next week, do you think we’re ready?”

“As ready as we’ll ever be baby.”

“Am I ready?”

“Don’t second guess yourself, of course you are. You are going to do amazing I just know it.”

“Thank you for always believing in me.”

“Always have, always will. I love you kid.”

“I love you too.”

“I gotta go but we’ll see you soon okay?”

“See you soon. Tell Chris I said Hello and that I love her too.”

“I will, bye R.J.”

“Bye Alex.”

While I was talking to Alex I was completely unaware of Ms.Williams listening outside the door and when I hung up Ms. Williams stormed into my room, completely disregarding my “Knock first.” Sign, yanked my phone out of my hand and prevented me from taking it back,

“This is now mine, thank you.”

“What did I even do?!” 

“You were talking to that Alex Morgan girl.”

“Okay first of all she’s a grown ass woman and second, why is that such a problem?”

“Whenever you talk to her or that Christen girl they give you false hope.”

“What? Again, they’re grown women, not teenagers. What do you mean “false hope”? That doesn’t even make any sense.”

“I’m talking about the fact that you think you’re going to the Olympics.”

“I am going, I already made the roster.”

“If you think I’m going to let you leave the country while I’m still responsible for you, you’re sorely mistaken.”

“You can’t just not let me go! That’s not fair.”

“Life isn’t fair.”

“You can’t stop me from going, it’s my life.”

“While you live here I decide what you can and can’t do.”

“Well, then I just won’t live here then.”

“Pfft, where are you gonna go then?”

“Anywhere is better than here.”

“If you leave now you’re not allowed to come back.”

“I don’t care. Give me my phone.”

She threw my phone on the bed and left, leaving me to grab my duffle bag and get out of here. I packed only things I would need, grabbing my board I started to climb out the window, using the tree by my window I was able to get down safely and remain unseen by the families that were still in the house. I didn’t know where I was going to go and I realized this was probably a really dumb thing to do but I couldn’t give Karen the satisfaction of knowing I had backed out. 

I just started walking in a random direction and kept going until I couldn’t anymore. When I took in my surroundings I realized that I had already walked pretty far and that it was getting dark, if I wanted to find at least a semi-safe place to sleep I need to start looking. 

I was able to find a good enough bridge to sleep under for the night and settled there. Chris and Alex are so going to kill me.

The next week flew by, I was able to make the bridge a “home” of sorts and I was able to do some chores for the manager of the grocery store I walked to everyday and in exchange he paid me with food. This way I could save my money for Tokyo and for getting more clothes before I left. I knew that he had his suspicions about me being homeless but he never brought it up and by the time it was time for me to go to the airport we had become good friends and I even told him about the team and going to Tokyo. As for showering I was able to convince the owner of one of the gyms in town to let me take showers there without having a membership. I was just wrapping up my last day of chores when the manager of the store, Kevin came out of his office to see me off.

“Hey kid, you leavin’?”

“Yeah, I’ll miss you Kev.”

“I’ll miss you as well kid, good luck in Tokyo. Bring home the gold.”

“Yes sir. I’ll try to visit from time to time.”

“I’ll look forward to seeing you again.”

After we said our goodbyes I grabbed my stuff from the back and started to ride my skateboard to a department store where I could get a suitcase and some more clothes. Then I headed for the airport. It took forever and having to hold a suitcase made it pretty hard to stay balanced but I finally made it and after getting my luggage checked and going through security I just barely made it on time for my flight. I would be flying to Portland first and then from there we fly as a team to Japan. It would be a long couple of days and I’m sure I’m going to be exhausted by the end of all the flying but it’ll all be worth it once we get there.

When I arrived in Portland I was greeted by almost the whole team, a few people’s flights were still just landing or would be arriving shortly. The first people I saw were Chris and Alex, they ran to me and wrapped me up in their arms, smothering me with kisses. I hadn’t told them about anything that happened over the last week, they still thought I was at the group home. It got a little hard when they called me a couple times and there was a lot of commotion on the bridge but I just told them I was out riding around and that it was traffic in the street.

“Hey baby! We missed you so much.”

 Christen all but tackled me to the ground as Alex came around to hug me from behind. We landed on the floor and I found myself in a Chrislex sandwich. 

“I missed you guys too!” I gigged at their excitement

I made my rounds and was sure to say hi to everyone as they arrived and once everyone was together we were ready to head to our gate for our second flight. We had to wait around for an hour or so before we were able to board, I sat in between Al and Chris. Mal, Rose and Sam sat in front of us and Morgan, Kelley, and Emily behind us and Ali, Ash, Megan, Julie, Tobin, Crystal and Lindsey in the rows directly across. Everyone else filled the remaining rows. This 13 hour and 10 minute flight was going to be long and it would probably get really old fast but I knew my teammates would make it fun and entertaining for at least part of the time. 

14 and 1/2 hrs later…

We had finally landed in Tokyo and after almost 15 hours of traveling we got to the hotel and were able to go straight to our rooms. It didn’t surprise me that I had been placed in a room with Christen and Alex, after not seeing each other for a while I was glad to be with them. Everyone was exhausted, so much so that all anyone said to each other as we went to our rooms was “Night.” Or just a grumble as a way to say “See you in the morning.” 

I was allowed first dibs on a bed so I picked the one closest to the window. 

“Goodnight baby love, see you in the morning.” Christen said from her spot on their bed.

“Goodnight kiddo, sleep well.” Alex yawned

“Goodnight guys.”

They both fell asleep instantly and I was left to wonder how I was going to tell them about everything. I knew I had to tell them the truth soon, I just didn’t know how. On one hand I knew that they would be mad that I had taken off from the group home but I also knew they were going to be even more upset that I didn’t tell them. I knew that if I had they would have come to get me and then they could be arrested for kidnapping or something like that if Ms. Williams found out and decided to report me as missing just to spite me. And yes technically she could do that now and it would be 10x worse since I left the country but she’s not going to risk her reputation by doing that. At least I don’t think she would. 

I ran through what I was going to tell them in my head over a dozen times before I was finally able to go to sleep. I knew tomorrow was going to be tough but I just had to hope that I’d be ready to face the music. 

//

Hey guys, this isn't my best work and this is probably all over the place but I hope it was still good. Sorry for mistakes.

- N

Tag list: @slow-dance-in-the-dark​ @messyheath​ @yeetlysonnett​ @anniekin-98​ @kayleighromae​ @ihavebeenchangedforgoodmenzel​ @laikato​

[devilatmydoor]

love is fatal part 10

a/n; hello all beautiful people, i hope you are all doing well. this was such a fun chapter to write. as always, let me know what you think in the tags, my ask or dm me! please let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist! 

previous chapters- part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6 part 7  part 8 part 9 

masterlist 

word count; 4.4+ (just under 5k hehe)

warnings; smut, language, drinking/ drug use 

The view of the mountains in the distance as palm trees surrounded the resort, when they arrived at the resort it was nothing like he had seen before; they had their own villas with a kitchen, dining room and living room area, shower separate from the bathtub with a king sized mattress. There was a spa, golf course, gym, arcade, two separate dining areas and two different pools. They unpacked their belongings and got acquainted in the room before changing into their swimsuits. 

She grabbed their key and left the room hand in hand when they got to the smaller pool, everyone was sitting on lounge chairs or by the bigger pool. 

She set her key and towel down on the floor before she sat down on the edge of the pool as he jumped in. She giggled as she watched him swim around the vacant pool. He hummed as he swam up to her, she giggled as he moved closer slowly spreading her legs as his hands traced circles on her thighs. “Calum.” She knew exactly what he was thinking. He pulled her closer to the edge of the pool. 

He smirked as he moved closer slowly untying her bikini bottoms, She gasped softly as his thumb ran up her clothed heat. “I haven’t eaten since this morning” 

He slowly pushed her bikini bottoms aside as his thumb ran up her slick folds, “Baby, there are people here.” 

He winked as his finger continued to tease her, his thumb softly circling her clit, “And? What’s your point?” 

“We just got here, we can’t get kicked out because you’re horny.”

Her breath hitched as he softly kissed her clit, “I’m not the only one.”

He slowly licked a stripe up her folds as she bit her lip while he softly sucked on her clit as he gripped her hips. She gripped the edge of the pool as he sucked harder on her clit, she let go of her bottom lip and let out a soft whine. He spread out her lips as his tongue entered her causing her to throw her head back. He knew that with each stroke of his tongue drove her crazy as his casual switching from kitten licking to slow and sensual licking had her close, “I-I’m gonna cum.” 

His pace quickened as he licked up every ounce of her orgasm hitting his tongue, his pace slowing down as he rode out her orgasm.  She watched him as he licked her clean before moving her bottoms back as he tied them,  “You were so good for me, so quiet so no one would know how good I made you feel.” He winked as he got out of the pool and sat down next to her. 

Her hand rested on his thigh as she looked at him, “You couldn’t wait until we got back to the room?”

He chuckled as he kissed her lips softly, “Why would I wait for dessert when it's right there?” 

She shook her head as she kissed his lips softly, “Let’s go back to the room before I turn into a tomato.” 

He chuckled before standing up and helping her get up, she bent down to grab the towels and room key. He couldn’t help but smack her ass before she stood up straight, “Calum!” 

“What? Your ass doesn’t quit.” 

She shook her head playfully as he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close. They walked back to their room as he held on to her tight. She opened the door, he followed her inside as he watched her. She started drying him off as she left soft kisses all over his skin causing him to moan with each kiss. She grabbed the waistband of his swim shirts and pulled it back so it softly hit his skin, he looked at her with the familiar lust in his eyes. She slowly slid his shorts down to reveal his hard cock springing free. She dried off his thighs completely neglecting his cock before she softly kissed the tip of his cock before standing up straight. She grabbed the other towel to dry herself off causing Calum to groan loudly. She slowly took her top off as she dried off her breasts and stomach, following her arms. She untied her bottoms before letting them fall to the floor. She dried herself off as she maintained eye contact with him. 

She slowly kneeled down before slowly pressing open mouth kisses along his length causing his moans to grow louder. Her tongue traced the prominent vein on his cock before palming him. She swirled her tongue around his cock before she softly sucked on the tip of his cock as she continued to make eye contact as he moaned her name. She took as much as she could in her mouth as she bobbed her head as she palmed the rest of his cock, “God Veronica, you look so pretty around my cock like that.”

She bobbed his cock faster as he groaned loudly while his head threw back causing his vein to pop out of his neck. She continued as she felt cum dripping down her neck, she slowly moved his cock out of her mouth as she swallowed and sucked his tip as he groaned. 

“V-Veronica I’m gonna cum again.” 

She winked as she bobbed her head pushing his cock back in her mouth as she hallowed out her cheeks. She moved her hand to fondle his balls as he bit his lip and his second orgasm came rushing in as the familiar taste filled her mouth. She swallowed slowly as she let go of his cock with a pop. 

She licked her lips slowly before standing up straight making the space between them nonexistent. His thumb ran over her lips as he kissed her lips softly, “Are you gonna be a good girl and lay down for me?” 

She nodded as she led him to the bed and laid down motioning him closer; he smirked as he hovered over her and gripped her hips before kissing her jaw. He sucked on the soft skin as he softly nipped at it long enough to leave a mark, “You need some new hickeys angel, guests need to know your mine.” He softly growled as he kissed her sweet spot softly before sucking on her skin. He rubbed her hips as he left marks all over her neck. He licked up the valley between her breasts before one hand cupped her breasts as his tongue flicked at her nipple causing it to harden. 

He swirled his tongue around her nipple as he tweaked the other one softly tugging on her piercing, her hips bucking in response. Moans escaped her lips as his lips wrapped around her nipple as he softly twisted the other. She gripped his shoulders as he moved to the other nipple to do the same treatment. 

He kissed her jaw as his fingers ran through her slick folds as his thumb rubbed her clit, “So wet for me baby.”

She moaned as his fingers slid into her with ease as he pumped his fingers inside of her as his other thumb circled her clit. Her hands found a home in his curls as her eyes fluttered shut. “Come for me pretty girl.” 

His pace quickened with ease as he curled his fingers inside of her hitting the right spot causing her orgasm to rush through her body. “Fuck!” She moaned loudly as he slowed his pace riding out her high. He slowly took his fingers out of her as he licked them clean. 

“I know you’ve got more in you.” He smirked as he teased her folds with the tip of his cock before pushing in cock inside of her. She gasped as his thrusts were precise; hard thrust at a face pace. She wrapped her legs around his waist as she moaned his name, “Let me hear you baby.” 

He pulled all the way out before thrusting all the way in harder than before causing her to moan his name louder. He kept that pace as he gripped her hips, “C’mon baby, I want everyone to know who's making you feel so good.”

His grip on her hips tightened as he wasn’t letting up, his thrusts faster and harder, “Calum!” She moaned loudly. 

“Louder.” He softly growled as she could feel all of him simultaneously as he hit her g-spot.

“Calum!!” She yelled as her release rushed through her body, her head throwing back against the pillow as she bit her lip. 

He chased his own high as he came deep inside of her as his thrusts slowed, his grip on her hips loosened. He sloppily kissed her lips before pulling all the way out of her, “I’ll be right back, gonna get a towel angel.” 

She nodded as her cheeks flushed pink, he climbed off the bed and walked into the bathroom and grabbed a washcloth and ran it under warm water. He run it out and cleaned himself off and flipped the washcloth on the other side and walked over to the bed as she propped herself up on her elbows. He hovered over her and cleaned her up before kissing her forehead. He brought the towel back into the room and threw it in the hamper. He walked up to the bed as she patted the bed and he climbed on the bed and smiled at her, “You still need more hickies, c’mere.” He motioned her to his lap and she smiled as she straddled his lap and he held her hips. 

He sat up as he kissed her sweet spot before he started sucking on the skin as she held onto his arms, she softly moaned as his teeth nipped at her soft skin. 

He kissed the new mark on her skin as she looked in his eyes, “Yes baby?”

She bit her lip before she slowly grinded on his cock causing it to harden underneath her, he moaned as she winked at him, “I’ve got an idea that will make us both happy.” 

“What’s that pretty girl?” 

She stopped grinding on him before hovering over him and lining herself up before lowering herself onto him causing them both to moan, “Much better, continue.” She winked. 

He held her hips as she rested her hands on his chest as he continued to leave hickeys all over her neck down to her chest. Once he finished they decided to get dressed and go to dinner at the restaurant within walking distance from the resort. 

He couldn’t keep his eyes off of her as she wore a red dress with black heels, as they sat down to eat she looked at the menu and he was too distracted by her to bother reading it. She ordered him salmon and a salad as she ordered a calamari salad with soup. 

“You’re lucky I know what you like or you’d be starving tonight.” She winked as she grabbed his hand. 

He chuckled as his cheeks turned pink, “Not entirely, I always get dessert.” He winked causing her cheeks to turn bright red as her eyes widened. 

“Calum! I swear to god!” She giggled as she shook her head playfully before taking a sip of her sangria. 

“You love it.” He cockily smirked as he drank his whiskey. 

“Calum!” She chided as she gave him a look and he chuckled in response to embarrassing her. 

He chuckled as he winked at her as she shook her head playfully at him. Her blue eyes glistened under the lights as she smiled, “I can’t believe we pulled this off.” 

“I can’t either, thank god I didn’t give Mikey much of a choice.” He smiled before kissing her hand. 

“I didn’t give my manager one either, thankfully she owes me so it worked out,” She pressed her soft lips to his hand before tracing his veins with her fingertip, “You are the only man I’ve taken to our timeshare.” She blushed before sipping her drink. 

His eyes widened as he realized what she meant, every summer she’d come to Palm Springs whether it was on her own or with her family. Grayson had only gone once, “Really baby?” 

She nodded before kissing his palm, “Yeah, I don’t know how to explain why and have it make sense.” 

He grabbed her hand and kissed it, “You don’t need to explain it to me, I’m just happy to be here with you.” 

She smiled as she took another sip of her drink before she talked about her girls day with Penelope coming up. Grinning from ear to ear as she explained they both took the day off and spent the entire day together, half of the time her sister Tatum attended. Finishing their food he snatched the bill from Veronica’s hand as she playfully shook her head at him. 

“Before we head out I should run to the bathroom.” 

“That’s a good idea my love, I’m gonna go for a smoke outside. I’ll be waiting for you.” He smiled as she got up from the table and walked to the bathroom. He grabbed the receipt before standing up and walking towards the front door. Once outside he leaned on the wall of the restaurant not even realizing there was a bar next door. He grabbed a cigarette from the pack and lit it before inhaling. He exhaled as he looked around and inhaled, he saw a girl walking towards him. He exhaled as she stopped in front of him, it didn’t make sense to him why she stopped until she looked him up and down. He didn’t have any hickeys on him and he wished she had given him hickeys. 

“Hi!” She said abruptly. 

“Hi.” He replied as he inhaled his cigarette as they looked at each other. 

“You’re not from around here are you?”  She replied. 

“No, how would you even know if I was?” He was confused as to why she'd ask a complete stranger a question like that. 

“Because I live here and know most of the locals.” She mentioned as she moved closer to him causing him to step backward. 

“And? Your point being?” 

“I’d remember you if you lived around here.” The girl stated as she stepped closer to him, he took another step back. 

“Must have a good memory then.” He exhaled his cigarettes before shoving his hand in his pocket. 

(Veronica POV)

She put her phone back in her clutch as her heels clicking on the ground giving her confidence as she strutted to the front door. She didn’t see Calum as she opened the door, but she heard his voice when her gaze was fixed on him talking to a girl. 

Jealousy invaded her thoughts instantaneously as he didn’t notice her stepping out of the restaurant. Whether it was the girl standing in his view or him busy talking to her it ignited heat rushing through her veins as the girl’s hand touched his shoulder. She took a deep breath before making her move. She walked in their direction as his brown eyes finally met hers, she pushed the girl aside as she gently pushed him against the wall ignoring the girl's comments about watching where she was going. She didn’t give Calum a chance to speak before her lips met him in a soft and fleeting kiss as his hands held her hips. She heard the girl scoff before walking away, she kissed his lips again but playfully nibbled on his bottom lip as her eyes met his. 

Her fingertips ran over his jaw as she traced the moles on his cheek, their faces close enough together they shared breaths, “Hi.” 

“Hi pretty girl, what was that for?”

Her thumb traced his chin before resting her hand on his chest, “Nothing.” She didn’t want to admit she was jealous even though she knew she had no reason to be jealous but she couldn’t help it even if she tried. 

“That was nothing- Wait, were you jealous?” His cocky smirk made her giggle giving away her secrecy.  

She kissed his sweet spot and toyed with his collar, “Maybe.” 

He let out a low chuckle as he rubbed her hips, “Veronica.” 

Her eyes met him as she kissed his jaw, “Hmm?” 

“You were jealous of me talking to someone else weren’t you?” He smirked as he grabbed her waist and started to walk. 

She wrapped her arm around his waist and nodded, “Guilty as charged.” 

“It’s sexy that you're jealous.” He purred as he pulled her against him. 

“Hood you are something else.” She giggled as she kissed his cheek as they walked back to their villa, talking about their plans for the remainder of their mini-vacation. 

_ 

She flattened his shirt over her stomach before looking in the mirror. She hadn’t worn lingerie like this for him before and she couldn’t explain why it made her nervous. She slowly opened the door and stepped outside of the bathroom, his attention fixed on his phone. She cleared her throat and he set his phone down and looked her up and down before sitting up straight on the couch. She walked closer to him as his eyes fixed on her, “Hi.” 

He motioned her to come over to him and she followed, “Hi baby, I love seeing you in my shirts.” 

“I know you do.” She blushed as she straddled his hips and he held her hips, he toyed with the waistband of her panties and he let out a loud groan, “Oh baby.”

She ran her fingers along his jawline that she could swear could sharpen knives, “Yes?” 

His warm hands roamed up her shirt as he cupped her breasts, “All of this for me?” 

Her lips ghosted over his before she softly licked his lips before playfully nibbling his bottom lip, “Mhmm.” 

 She discarded his oversized top and he groaned as she felt him harden beneath her, she kissed his new hickeys returning her gaze to meet his. 

He looked her up and down and bit his lip. “Baby if we start I don’t think I’m going to be able to stop.” 

“You say that like it’s a bad thing Hood.” She winked as she held onto his shoulders as she slowly rocked her hips against his as she felt his cock harden underneath her. He moaned loudly as he bit his lip, “Fuck.” 

She continued to grind on him as her panties continued to get wet from the friction, he gripped her hips, “Wanna ride you.” 

He bit his lip as he shimmied his boxers off springing his hard cock as she bit her lip, she shimmied her panties down before lining herself up with him as she teased the tip of his cock with her arousal before slowly sinking down as she felt him fill her up. Breathy moans surrounded them as she slowly rocked her hips as he groaned her name, “Fucking hell that’s it baby.” 

She moaned as her pace quickened, her hand rested on his throat for balance and she felt his hips buck in response.

“Oh fuck baby.” 

She added pressure before as she continued, his hips bucking as she kept the fast pace. She gasped as her stomach tightened before her orgasm rushed through her as her grip on his throat tightened. “F-Fuck!” 

His eyes fluttered shut as he came inside of her causing her to let go of his throat, “Fucking hell,” He panted as her pace slowed down. 

His hands moved up her sides as he took off her top before he cupped her breasts as he leaned forward to kiss her neck, “I can’t get enough of you on top of me.” 

She rolled her hips causing him to groan, “I’m gonna cum again fuck.” She repeated her actions as he gripped her hips as she felt his cock twitch inside of her as he came again as his fingertips dug into her hips. 

She kissed his jaw as she picked up the pace again as she felt her stomach tighten again as she rode out his orgasm as her second one rushed through her as she gripped his shoulders. His thumb rubbed her clit as intense pleasure rushed through her as he applied pressure to her clit as she squirted. Seeing stars pressed her forehead against hers as her fingers ran through his curls. She slowed her pace as she breathed against his neck, “Oh my fuck, Calum.” 

He panted as his grip loosened on her hips, “Yes baby?” 

Her eyes met his as she couldn’t even think of words, she just stared in his eyes as he wrapped his arms around her waist as he held her. 

--

They finished dinner that they ordered from another one of Veronica’s favorite restaurants in the area, of course Calum refused to let her pay since she was paying for their stay. He refilled their champagne glasses before kissing her lips as his hand rested on her thigh, “To us.” 

She blushed as they clinked their glasses and then they took a tip, “To us.” 

His thumb traced soft circles on her thigh as they drank their champagne and talked about everything and nothing. His hand continued to trace circles on her thigh as her leg draped over his. She knew the night wasn’t going to last forever but she wished on her lucky stars it would. It felt as if the world had completely stopped as they sat in their room drinking champagne, her phone across the room as she couldn’t keep her eyes off of him as he laughed at her crazy stories from previous visits, his eye dimples as he laughed and when he covered his mouth made her cheeks hurt from smiling. Her stomach sore from laughing so much as she slowly realized Calum was getting tipsy because he was getting handsy, more than he usually is. 

She looked to see that it was past 2am and his eyes were getting heavier as he rambled about how he slept better on the mattress in their room than at home. She helped him stand up as she wrapped his arm around her shoulder as she walked with him to the bed, it wasn’t an easy feat since he was moving slower than normal. “C’mon baby, almost there.” His weight shifted against her as she walked him to the side of the bed as she laid him down on the bed as he looked at her. “Thank you for helping me baby.” 

She smiled as she reached for her bag with her pain medication and grabbed her bottle of aspirin before setting it on the nightstand. “I’m gonna get you some water baby.” She said before walking towards the sink and putting a cup under the spigot as she filled it with water. She walked back over to him as he sleepily looked at her, “Here.” 

He grabbed the water and took a sip as he waited for her to hand him the aspirin, she handed it to him and he swallowed it as he finished the cup of water. “Thank you for the water.” 

She smiled as she grabbed the blanket and draped it over him before kissing his forehead, “Of course my love, now get some sleep.” 

The look in his eyes was so soft and loving as he grabbed her hand, “You truly are the best my love. I don’t deserve you, I love you.” 

Her eyes widened as the last 3 words that spewed out of his mouth echoed in her brain. She wasn’t completely in shock but she didn’t expect it from him, he was drunk and he didn’t know what he was saying. Before she could respond he pouted and looked at her, “Veronica I’m in love with you, I love you. You’re supposed to say it back.” 

She looked at him as she felt her heart race skyrocket, she felt like her heart was going to burst out of her chest as he sleepily closed his eyes and passed out. He’s drunk, he has no idea what he’s even talking about. 

***

His last conversation with Veronica replayed in his head and throughout his dreams the entirety of the night. He woke up multiple times to see if she’d left the bed or even left him completely. It wasn’t that he didn’t mean every word he said because he absolutely did in every sense he was completely and madly in love with her. Every passing moment with her made it clearer and clearer, he hadn’t remembered a time in his life where he felt like this. Her coughing brought her back in the room and he turned his body to face her. “Morning handsome” 

“Morning beautiful.” He smiled before pulling her as close he possible could before leaning forward to kiss her before she hid her face. “Baby I want my good morning kiss.” 

She squirmed in his arms before facing him, “I haven’t even brushed my teeth!” 

“And?” He chuckled before kissing her lips softly as she sighed against his lips. 

“You’d think I’d be used to your morning antics by now.” She giggled as she kissed his nose. 

“You should be baby.” He chuckled as he kissed her forehead. Looking in her beautiful ocean eyes reminded him of their last conversation. 

She slowly moved out of his arms and kissed his cheek, “I’m gonna go to the bathroom baby, I’ll be right back.” She smiled before getting off of the bed as he watched her walk to the bathroom. 

He sat up in the bed before climbing out so he wouldn’t sit and let his thoughts consume him. He walked to the kitchen and made coffee as he anxiously and nervously waited for her to return. He felt like he was going to burst before she stepped out of the bathroom and walked up to him. “I meant everything I said to you last night, I meant every single word. I don’t deserve you, you are too good for me. The way you make me feel is like how they describe it in movies. I love you Veronica, I am madly and deeply in love with you. I don’t want you to feel pressured into saying it back.” 

She held his face in her hands before sweetly kissing his lips before smiling bigger than he’s ever seen it, “I didn’t say it back last night because I didn’t think you meant it, I thought you were too drunk. I have never been the one to fall in love with someone as fast as I am with you. I love you Calum.” 

The words he had waited all morning to hear were music to his ears, he held her hips as his lips met hers in a passionate and loving kiss, she asserted her dominance as she pressed her body against his as he held on to her tight.

@pxrxmoore  @sublimehood @ghostoflrh @calumscalm @mellifluoushood @calumthomcs @twilightmomentswithyou @boytoynamedcalum @ohhmuke @calswildflower @highscal @sanrioluke @softlrh @flowers-on-the-graves @currentlyupcalsass @clemmings @tirednotflirting @highfivecalum @wastelandcth @himbocalum @feliznavidaddycal @icyicejuice @notinthesameguey @blackbutterfliescal @calumrose @tpwkatsumu

[chickensarentcheap]

Never Gonna Be Alone:  Chapter 1

Warnings: none

Tagging: @innerpaperexpertcloud, @c-a-v-a-l-r-y, @alievans007, @tragiclyhip

His flight lands at JFK shortly before two in the afternoon. He’d slept for the better part of it; worn out from the lengthy hikes in the oppressive heat. Something to eat and a shower had done him some good. Easing the majority of tightness in his back and shoulders and tackling some of the swelling and pain in his right knee. It remains the proverbial thorn in his side; first replacement failing after only a year and a half and then having lengthy and painful recovery issues following the second one. He’ll never be able to fully straighten that leg or go a day without some swelling or pain. The surgeons had done the best they could under the circumstances; warning him of excessive and irreparable damage done to the surrounding ligaments and tendons and preparing him for a third surgery before he hits sixty.

While miserable and hobbling at times, it’s still nowhere near as agonizing as what he’d been living with before. Ninety percent of his nights are spent sleeping straight through; very rarely is he woken by pain, nor does he have to resort to the alternating of hot and cold showers in effort of relieving some of the suffering. And there’s been no nightmares. Two and a half years of NOT having his rest disrupted by vivid and terrifying recollections of his times in Dhaka. THAT’S more of relief than the absence of pain; the troubles with his mind finally giving him reprieve thanks to a strict regime of medications and therapies. There’s been no manic or severely depressive moments; moods managed relatively well and healthy coping mechanisms long ago replacing the damaging and dangerous behaviours he’d once turned to.

It helps to have a support system. Knowing there’s someone in your corner that will constantly cheer you on; never letting you get discouraged or allowing you to give up on yourself. Oftentimes...when things get particularly bad...willingly carrying some of the burden and despair themselves. Had it not been for her, he would have surrendered a long time ago. He would have easily resorted back to the booze and the drugs; his life empty and meaningless and not worth the effort and the oxygen it took to stay alive.

He woke an hour before landing and placed two calls. The first to Dylan’s Candy Bar; a favourite destination of the kids every time they make a trip to the Big Apple. It’s one of the places they insist on visiting at least twice. Shamelessly dropping nearly all their spending money given to them by their parents; filling their shopping bags to the brim with sweet treats and various trinkets. The order was simple; seven plastic buckets -each adorned with the kids’ favourite cartoon character or superhero- filled with their candy and chocolate of choice and gift certificates for the sundae bar. The second call is placed to the ‘go to’ local florist. Two dozen long stemmed sweetheart roses; white, pink, and purple. It makes him happy; being able to both surprise and spoil her. The latter always launches a protest on her behalf; reminding him that she isn’t a materialistic person and most certainly doesn’t expect or need expensive gifts. But he can’t help himself. While they live remarkably simple and low key in the grand scheme of things, it’s no secret that money is no longer an issue; their bank account will never run dry and there will always be cash -BIG cash- rolling in. And he feels she deserves to be spoiled and treated like a queen. Not only giving him seven kids in as many years, but staying by his side through thick and thin; never giving up on him -or the- even when things were their darkest and direst.

She’s been with him from the humblest of beginnings; when he had absolutely nothing to offer her. Money had been scarce. Nearly all their combined savings used up on a mountain of medical bills; his long and painful recovery from Dhaka making any and all employment impossible. It was worrisome; wondering how the hell he’d keep a roof over her head and food in her pregnant belly. If he couldn’t manage THAT, how was he going to be able to properly care for a kid? They hadn’t had much back then; that tiny apartment outside of Sydney filled with used and mismatched furniture and barely any clothes in their closets. But she’d hung in there. Agreeing to marry him even though he couldn’t even afford to give her a ring, let alone a proper wedding. Loving him with every fibre of her being and always looking at him as if he was the most incredible man on earth; declaring that he made her feel safe and protected and that she’d never...EVER...felt that way before.

And that’s why he does. All of that blind faith and love and trust that she’s always possessed. The chances she’s given to him; forgiving him for all the broken promises and all the lies he told -never maliciously, only as a means of keeping her safe- and the times he fell off the wagon and went back to the booze and drugs. So many times she could have walked away; taken the kids and fled the country and made sure that he would never find them. But she never did. She never let it...HIM...break them. No matter how hard it got, no matter tears she shed, no matter how volatile the arguments or how many holes he punched in the walls, she never gave up. Even when she did kick him out, it hadn’t been a sign of defeat. It had been a warning; telling him that she wouldn’t allow someone like him in her children’s lives and he needed to clean up his act. He’s still ashamed that it took as long as it had. Six months spent wallowing in his self pity and despair; twenty four weeks away from his family because he was too scared and too weak to face his problems head on and try to solve them. And she’d taken him back; a tearful phone call in the middle of the night begging him to come home. They’d stayed up until dawn; having the calm and rational heart to heart that they should have indulged in months..if not YEARS...ago. And finally he’d been ready to change; crying and begging for forgiveness and promising to do whatever it took to make things right again.

To make THEM right again.

Although Anil had arranged for a private car to take him home, he opts for a taxi instead. While he appreciates Anil's continued generosity, it’s far too ‘flashy’ for him; a black Lincoln with tinted windows pulling up into Gramercy Park will only draw attention from the neighbours. While everyone residing there is just as wealthy -if not more- things are still relatively low key; North American made SUVs and sedans in place of luxury models from overseas, no outward displays of disgusting riches and pompous attitudes. He knows he and his family are an enigma of sorts; nine of them from Australia showing up out of the blue and dropping huge cash -especially for what’s considered a young family- on a place that'd been on the market for nearly two years. Then spending an exorbitant amount of money transforming the three story townhome into exactly what they wanted. Adding a private and secluded back deck complete with a wet bar and a hot tub and an area for outdoor food prep and grilling. Blowing the one wall out in TJ and Tanner’s room; removing would have been a study in favour of turning it into built in queen sized bunk beds and enormous walk in closets with enough space for clothes and toys. And a home gym stocked with the best equipment money can buy and a top of the line sound system; ; an addition off the kitchen that had been a last minute decision. It had taken two years and a dozen trips to and from Australia and New York CIty to get everything just right. Finding joy in seeing just what all the hard work and seemingly endless shedding of blood, sweat, and tears, could actually bring to their family.

When he’s two blocks away he texts his wife, letting her know he’s mere minutes from their front gate. The three littlest love that final stretch; kneeling on the couch and pressing their noses against the living room window as they impatiently await his arrival. She’ll try to get boots and coats on them in time; more often than not chasing them out the front door with winter apparel in hand, shouting about the dangers of frostbite and hypothermia and how they don’t want to spend their entire Christmas break stuck in bed with the flu. It’s been an adventure; raising seven children. Definitely not for the faint of heart or those lacking in patience. There’s the frustrating moments; two or three throwing temper tantrums in unison, an often mouthy and rebellious pre-teen girl that makes her mother her primary target, a ten year old boy that has absolutely no fear; who indulges -and excels- in even the most aggressive of sports and gets bored and irritable if he isn’t keeping himself moving. It’s chaotic and it’s noisy. School mornings are a whirlwind of activity; breakfast for a family of nine, the oldest helping finish and pack lunches, mom and dad working on getting the less independent kiddos ready and out the door. But there’s a lot of fun under that roof; an endless supply of giggles and little arms always ready and willing to wrap you in a hug. The great times far out number the trying and exhausting ones; rewarded with kisses and cuddles and those crinkly eyed smiles.

And there’s a lot of love in that house. If the pain and the worry and the fear that his brush with death had five years ago had taught him anything, it’s that they truly are capable of getting through even the toughest of times. They ARE stronger together than they are apart; fighting through all the pain and all the tears and coming out the other side relatively unscathed. And they’ve become stronger; as individuals AND as a couple. Their marriage has never been healthier. Rational and calm discussions taking the place of often volatile arguments and taking every opportunity presented to them for ‘one on one time’; whether it be date nights or their evening walks along the beach or coffee out on the deck while the sun rises. Seamlessly and effortlessly working as a team when it comes to raising their children, but never forgetting how important it is to acknowledge the bond that exists between them. Not just as spouses and two people that made babies together, but as best friends and lovers and each other’s biggest supporters and most loyal confidants. Marriage therapy has turned out to be the best thing they ever could have agreed to; able to acknowledge their weaknesses as both a couple and as individuals. Opening their eyes to the little things that annoyed and often -unintentionally- hurt one another and tested the limits of their patience.

Things aren’t perfect. But most days they seem damn close to it.

****

Clad in a cumbersome ski jacket and a pair of heavy and clunky winter boots, five year old Takota scrambles onto the living room couch. Leaning stomach first against the back cushion, he places his elbows along the top and heaves a long, forlorn sigh. “He’s late.”

Beside him -and already bundled into her own cold weather gear- Addie casts a glance towards the clock that graces the nearby fireplace mantle. “It’s only been eight minutes.”

“Mummy said he’d be here in FIVE minutes.”

“Maybe the traffic is bad. Maybe the cabbie is a really slow driver. I’m sure he’ll be here soon.”

“I hope so.” Another dramatic sigh. “I wonder why daddy had to go away in the first place?”

Addie twirls one of the braided tassels on her knitted hat around her index finger. “‘Cause Kota, he’s the boss and sometimes bosses have to go and boss people around. In person. Not just on the phone and through the computer.”

“Maybe he had to go and yell at them,” Takota suggests, and pushes his beanie towards the back of his head, then uses a forearm to clear beads of sweat from his brow. “His voice is REALLY loud when he yells. I bet he scared them . Do you think they cried?”

“I would cry if he yelled at me.”

“Daddy never yells at us. He doesn’t need to. He just gives us the stink eye. You know, ‘the look’.”

“The look is scarier than when he yells, I think. He yells at Millie sometimes.”

“That’s ‘cause she deserves it. We don’t. We’re just little. She’s big and mean. And bad. Really bad.”

“Who’s bad?” Brooklyn asks, soles of her boots loud against the laminate flooring as she clomps into the living room, then squeezes her tall and slender frame between the window and the back of the couch.

“Millie,” her twin replies. “All the time.”

“That’s ‘cause she’s almost a teenager,” Brooklyn reasons. “All teenagers are bad.”

“I think it’s ‘cause she’s just a big bitch,” Addie declares.

Voices -especially high pitched little ones that don’t come with a volume switch or understand the meaning of the word ‘whisper’- travel easily through the main floor. Particularly through the open concept design that seamlessly combines living room and kitchen; high ceilings and easy to clean carpet free flooring. A definite must have with seven kids and two dogs. And as she stands at the kitchen island nursing a mug of tea, Esme’s eyebrows arch as she catches the profanity that slips from her soon to be six year old’s mouth.

“Hey!” she calls, and drops her chin to her chest and narrows her eyes. “Language. Please.”

“Sorry,” Addie gives a sheepish grin, then turns back towards the window. “It’s true though.”

“Mum,” Takota turns to face the back of the couch; a pout on his lips and his arms crossed over his chest. “You said he’d be here in five minutes. It’s been an hour.”

“It’s been ten minutes,” she informs him. “It’s snowing out. People forget how to drive when it’s snowing. Traffic is probably bad. Patience, young sir.”

“I don’t have any patience. I’m five, remember? Why did daddy have to go away again?”

“He had some business to take care of. Far away.”

“He’s been gone for like a year.”

“I know it seems that way, but he’s only been gone for four days. Five if you count the night he left.”

“Why’s he leave when we’re sleeping?” Brooklyn inquires, as she traces a fingertip along the edges of the paper snowflakes -done in various colours and sizes- that she and her siblings had created and taped to the glass the evening before. “Why doesn’t he wait to say bye to us?”

“Because most of the flights leave at night. It’s not personal.”

“He should at least wake us up,” Takota says. “I hate not getting to say bye to him.”

“I don’t know, I’m kinda of glad that he DOESN’T say bye,” Addie pipes up. “I’d cry for sure. It’s better if he goes when I’m asleep. So I don’t ugly cry.”

Their chatter turns to plans to build snowmen in the small expanse of backyard, hopes of going sledding, and excitement over the buckets of candy that had been delivered only thirty minutes earlier. The bouquet of flowers sits in the middle of the dining table; a stunning arrangement of long stemmed sweetheart roses in her favourite colours and accompanied by a card that simply reads: I LOVE YOU. While not a fan of grand romantic gestures, over the past five years he’s shown an increased propensity for these ‘out of the blue’ moments. It can be simple yet thoughtful and personal things. Her favourite cupcakes from the local bakery back home, flowers being delivered to the bookstore in the middle of the day, or him taking a break from seemingly endless hours of ‘in office’ work and showing up with lunch for the both of them. Just taking the time to be with her is what matters most to her; the affection he gives and effort he puts into making sure she realizes just how often she’s on his mind. And how much he appreciates her and loves her and truly can’t imagine his life without her.

Then there’s the bigger and more elaborate things; the desire to spoil her every chance he gets, claiming it makes him happy to do so. She always protests. Reminding him that that’s NOT why she fell in love with him; marrying him when they both had very little yet their lives somehow seeming simpler and less stressful. But it just goes in one ear and out the other. his persistence and stubbornness always getting the upper hand. Showering her with jewelry and designer clothing and accessories; surprising with spa appointments and ‘girls weekends’ away with her sister. And then there’s the twice yearly ‘mommy and daddy only’ trips he insists they take. One always to their favorite getaway in Phuket, Thailand, and the other destination always kept a secret until they actually land. He says it makes him happy; being able to just randomly treat her to things they’d never been able to really afford before. Truly believing that she deserves to be spoiled; wanting a way to show how much he appreciates her and how grateful he is for the life she’s given him. A chance to prove he CAN be a good husband and father and that his past mistakes in no way to define who he truly is. And he always talks about how fortunate he is that he found a strong woman; someone that stuck around during even the hardest and darkest of times. Always loyal and faithful. Loving him when he didn’t make it easy to.

He’s come a long way in five years. THEY’VE come a long way. Both separately and as a couple. Therapy has made a world of difference; helping them get to the bottom of both individual issues and those causing friction and tension in their marriage. It had taken him a while to accept the idea of couples counselling; afraid that needing it was a sign that things were far worse than he thought they were Slowing coming around to the realization that it wasn’t because they had serious problems that had to be addressed, but because they needed to find ways to keep those issues from cropping up in the first place. Both had needed to be reminded that their roles in each other’s lives went far beyond just being spouses and raising children together. That the bond that existed between them surpassed what most normal couples could lay claim to. Best friends. Lovers. Each other’s most trusted confidants and most loyal and steadfast supporters. Once they began taking time out to spend together, they soon learned how to nourish those very different roles in each other’s lives. Their marriage started to see the benefits almost immediately; becoming stronger and their appreciation, gratitude, and love for another growing beyond anything either of them could imagine.

“Momma?” Takota appears on the other side of the island, having to stand on his tiptoes to see over the countertop. Like his Tanner and Addie, he’s on the small side; not blessed with the tall and lanky genes that the others -including his twin sister- had been given. And like Tanner, he is soft spoken and serious; loving to spend time outdoors, yet preferring quieter pursuits. Very creative; indulging in painting and drawing and any form of craft that he can get his hands on.

She glances up from the copy of the New York Times open in front of her. “What’s up, buttercup?”

“Do you think daddy went away because he had to kill someone?”

“What?” She gives a startled chuckle. “Why would you…?”

“TJ said that daddy used to kill people. Before he became a boss. That he was a mer...mer…”

“Mercenary,” she finishes for him, then pushes the sleeves of her sweater up to her elbows and moves to the stove; stirring the contents of a simmering pot. One of Tanner’s many culinary creations; a rather creative mixture of chicken, taco seasons, and various vegetables. It’s his newfound passion; cooking and baking. And he insisted that some of that day’s lunch be left over so daddy could try it when he got home.

The little things go both ways. She’s found her own ways of spoiling him and showing her gratitude and appreciation. Today it’s a warm meal and fresh, hot coffee and the hot tub on the back deck already bubbling; relief for what she knows will be an aching and weary body.

“Is it true? That he used to kill people? When he was one of those? A mercenrie?”

“Mercenary,” she slowly repeats. “And yeah, sometimes. Sometimes he DID have to.”

“Because they were bad people?”

“Very bad people.”

“Is that why he had to go away? To kill bad people?”

“I don’t know why. I didn’t ask for details. He just had to go away for a few days.” It isn’t entirely true. He did in fact head to Laos and Cambodia to do just THAT; two high profile drug and weapons smugglers with enormous price tags on their heads and lengthy lists of enemies. But he’d also said that there was ‘more to it’; things that she didn’t need to know. Details that made HIM extremely unsettled. Something THAT bad? He preferred not to place it upon her shoulders.

“Is he going to go to hell? Because he killed people?”

“No.” She scoops some of the soup from the pot and holds it to her lips; aggressively blowing on it and then checking the temperature with the tip of her tongue before offering it to her son.

Takota eagerly accepts the ‘snack’. “Are the people he killed going to hell?”

“How about we NOT talk about this? If you want to know those kinds of things, you ask daddy. He’ll be able to answer your questions a lot better than I will.”

“I think you’re just throwing him under the bus. Setting him up for failure. We BOTH know he won’t tell me.”

“You are way too smart for five. Taste good? The soup?”

“Really good. Tanner could be a really famous chef one day, I bet. I’m gonna be a lion tamer.”

Grinning, she moves back to the island and snags her mug; heating the tea with some of the remains sitting in the pot she had made earlier. “You are, are you?”

“Daddy said I could be whatever I want to be when I grow up. And I want to be a lion tamer. And maybe a dentist.”

“Both at the same time?”

“I can’t tame lions and fix teeth at the same time. That’s just weird.”

“Mum!” Brooklyn bellows from the living room, then begins pounding her palm against the window. “That weird guy is back again!”

“He’s talking to TJ,” Addie chimes in. “I think TJ is going to tell him off. TJ doesn’t like him. He thinks the guy’s an asshole.”

“Adeline! Language!” she scolds, and then turns the burner on the stove to the nearest possible setting and heads through the kitchen and out into the living room, Takota hot on her heels.

“Why is he back?” Brooklyn unlocks the latch on the window and aggressively shoves it open. “Why are you back, weirdo?! You already shovelled the sidewalk! It hasn’t snowed enough yet! Go away! Mum…” both brows are arched as she glances over her shoulder. “...TJ is going to flip out. The weirdo is asking if you’re here. He called you pretty. I heard him! TJ is pissed!”

“Hey! Hey you!” Addie yells out the window. “My brother is going to kick your ass!”

“No one is kicking anyone’s ass,” Esme says, and shoves her feet into a pair of Crocs by the front door and snags one of the many coats from the hall closet; a snowboarding jacket that belongs to her husband and is monstrous on her tiny frame. And she barely manages to get the front door open; the three littles rushing past her and out onto the freshly shovelled porch and half completed steps.

“Why don’t you just go away!” TJ is barking at the ‘hired help’; a neighbourhood kid that she’d hired three years ago to handle the sidewalk IF Tyler was away. TJ had willingly taken on the responsibility of snow cleaning their first Christmas in Gramercy Park. Happy to be in charge of keeping the walk, stairs, and porch clean, but knowing that anything past the front gate is off limits. “You already did the sidewalk! It doesn’t need done again!”

“What’s going on?” Esme wraps an arm around her son’s shoulders and pulls him tightly into her. He’s tall for only ten; less than an inch away from squeaking past her in height. Still slim yet not as lanky and awkward looking; shoulders broader and muscles in his upper body already forming and becoming defined. A direct result of his love for sports and the kid friendly workouts in the gym that his dad let’s him partake in.

“This guy…” TJ nods in the teenager’s direction. “...wants to talk to you. He called you pretty. He asked ‘where’s your pretty little mom?'. I don’t like the way he said it. And dad wouldn’t like it either.”

“Is there a fight?” Tanner inquires, as he and Declan emerge from the side of the house; hearing the shouting from the backyard where they’d been keeping an eye on the dogs and building ‘snow fortresses’. “Who’s fighting?”

“No one is fighting,” Esme replies. “Just a misunderstanding between your brother and Jacobi. I’m sure it’s nothing, TJ. Go back to what you were doing. Daddy will be home soon. It’ll be a nice surprise for him; seeing everything shovelled off.”

“I don’t like this drongo,” TJ declares, and gestures towards the teenager with the end of the shovel. “He called you pretty. No one calls my mum pretty. Even if she is.”

“Beat him up,” Delcan suggests. “Daddy would.”

“Daddy would NOT beat someone up for no reason,” Esme informs him. “Especially not a teenager. Jacobi,” she turns to the teen in question. He’s a senior at the high school only three blocks away; a nice enough kid from an upper middle class home, constantly clad in backwards ball caps, baggy jeans, a varsity football jacket. “Now is NOT a good time. My wallet’s inside and I have no cash on me and my husband’s going to be home any second and it’s going to get really crazy around here. And loud. Very loud.”

“You don’t have to pay me until next time. I was just going to ask you if…”

TJ steps in front of Esme, forming a protective barrier between her and the unwanted visitor. “My mum’s married,” he snarls. “To my dad. Leave her alone! My dad is big and he’s strong and he can hurt people. With one hand. And if he finds out you’re mackin’ on my mom…”

“Tyler..” she places her hands on his shoulders. “...enough. No one is ‘macking’ on anyone. Jacobi is just being friendly. He shovels the sidewalk for us when dad isn’t here. And takes the garbage to the curb. He’s just trying to be friends.”

“My mom doesn’t need any more friends. Especially GUY friends. Seriously, my dad will kill you. Trying to get with my mom? Yeah, my dad will lose his shit. And you don’t want him to lose his shit. He’ll break you half. With his bare hands.”

“He’s very protective,” Esme explains to the teen, and gives an apologetic smile. “When dad leaves, he takes the role of ‘man of the house’ very seriously. You’re more than welcome to come back later; you can come in and have some hot chocolate or you can stay for dinner.”

“Oh now he’s coming to dinner?!” TJ huffs. “He just wants to try and get in your pants, mum. It’s obvious.”

“You’re ten. You don't know what's obvious when it comes to those things. You need to settle down. Jacobi is harmless. He’s just trying to be friends. Wouldn’t that be nice? To have friends here? It’s always nice to have friends.”

“I have friends back home. I don’t need them here. I got Tanny and Declan. What do I need HIM for?”

“Daddy!” Addie shrieks, as she stands on the lower rung of the wrought iron fence that borders their slice of property. One mitten clad hand wrapped around one of the posts while the other frantically waves at the yellow cab that pulls up to the curb. “Daddy! Daddy’s home!”

******

Chaos erupts; the gate being thrown open and a stampede of six human bodies and two dogs trying to steamroll their way through. The pure joy on those little faces and the excitement in their voices enough to cause a lump of emotion to settle square in his throat and tears to prick at his eyes; the latter hidden behind the lenses of his sunglasses. It had taken work to get past the feelings of inadequacy. The self hate and guilt and shame that had been telling him for years that he didn’t deserve the life he’d been given; a second chance at being a husband and father. Therapy has helped him get past that; helping him learn how to forgive himself and look at everything he DOES have instead of constantly questioning WHY he does. Now all he thinks about is how damn lucky he is; to have created seven human beings and to know how much they love him and how much they need him in their lives.

He barely gets a foot on the curb before the three littlest are on top of him. Shrieking and squealing with happiness and grabbing at the legs of his jeans; all three chattering at once, anxious for his undivided attention and begging to be picked up. He opts to dropping to one knee; not caring about the snow and the slush that soaks his leg or dirties the fabric. All that matters is those kids; three sets of arms wrapping tightly around his neck and those and those tiny voices giggling and happily screeching in his ears. And he gives each one the same attention; laying on the back of their heads and pressing kisses to their lips and cheeks.

“Daddy!” Addie climbs onto his thigh and squeezes his neck even tighter. “I missed you! I missed you so much!”

“I missed you too, Peanut. Every second of every day. I missed ALL of you.”

“But me the most, right? You missed me more than anyone, right?”

“ALL of you. I don’t have favourites.”

“Yes, you do. I know it’s me, daddy. Everyone knows it’s me.”

“Maybe I’ve got a little soft spot for you. But you know who my absolute favourite is? My most favourite human in the whole world?”

“Mummy.”

“Exactly.” He gives her a final squeeze and peck on the cheek, gently sliding her off of his thigh and then standing; wincing at the discomfort in his right knee and the tightness in his shoulder when he slings his piece of luggage -a simple backpack often used during hiking and camping excursions with the family- up onto it. “Hey little red,” he greets Declan, and affectionately ruffles both the winter hat and the shock of red hair underneath. “What happened? Grow another foot while I’m gone? You look taller.”

“I’m going to be a giant like you, dad,” Declan declares, then stands on his tiptoes with his lips pursed for a kiss. “Mum says I might even be BIGGER than you.”

“Guess I better watch my step, huh? Treat her right? Or you’ll be kicking my ass when you’re older. What about guys?” He addresses the oldest twins, clapping a hand on the back on the back of TJ’s neck and pressing a kiss on his cheek.

Tanner...and his needs...are different. He’s the more sensitive of the two; so much like his mother when it comes to a near constant need to show and receive affection. And since his Autism diagnosis almost five years ago -high functioning, as the developmental pediatrician had called it, a term that Tyler finds gets under his skin and leaves a foul taste in his mouth- they’ve all learned just WHAT Tanner needs. Whether it be ‘sensory breaks’ when feeling overwhelmed or anxious or more one on one interaction. Today it’s deep pressure. Tyler feels his son’s need for it the second Tanner’s arms wrap around his waist. He’s struggling emotionally; likely missing him the most out of all the kids and having a hard time adjusting to being away from home and not having his usual routine. It’s been difficult to adjust to; trying to find that balance between giving Tanner what he so desperately needs and craves yet not alienating or neglecting the needs of the others.

“Hey, mate.” He presses a kiss to Tanner’s temple, then wraps both arms around his petite frame. Knowing the exact amount of pressure he needs to put into the embrace. It will last longer than what he’d shared with the others. Long ago getting used to Tanner’s ‘signs’; knowing it’s better for his son’s mental state if he allows Tanner to be the one to break contact.

The ten year old’s demeanour begins to change almost instantly; tension releasing from his body and his heart rate slowing down and the head to toe tremors disappearing. And he holds on until Tanner is good and ready to pull away, then places his hands on his son’s shoulders and crouches down to make them eye level. Smiling when his sunglasses are gently and carefully pulled off his face. That contact again; Tanner needing to be able to read the emotions and even the thoughts that he always says is ‘written in daddy’s eyes’.

“You good?”

Finally a smile. One that crinkles the corners of his eyes and creases the bridge of his nose. “I’m good, dad.”

“Good,” he leans in and presses a kiss to Tanner’s lips. “Miss me?”

The ten year old nods.

“How much?”

“Lots.”

“Just lots?”

The smile broadens. “Tons.”

“I knew it. I missed you too. Tons. I brought you something. From Vietnam. Remember how when I told you where I was going, you did all that research? Especially about the animals? What was your favorite one?”

“The sun bear.”

“Look what I found.” Reaching into the pocket of his navy wool pea coat, he pulls out a small porcelain statue of a sun bear. It had taken him two hours of scouring various markets near his hotel and in surrounding areas, but he’d managed to find one. Tanner’s obsession with studying countries and their native wildlife is no secret; postcards and other trinkets constantly pouring in from Koen and Rata and some of the other guys on staff.

Tanner’s eyes widen, and he gingerly “Just for me?”

“Just for you. I told you I’d do my best to find you something. You can add that to your collection.”

“Mum!” He excitedly turns to Esme as she joins them, cradling his gift in both palms. “Look what daddy found! Look what he got me!”

“That’s awesome nugget. Daddy never disappoints, does he.”

“Never. Thank you, daddy,” Tanner curls his arms around Tyler’s neck and presses a kiss to his cheek. “I missed you. I love you.”

“I missed you too, mate. And I love you,” he places his lips against his son’s temple. “So much.”

“Why don’t you go put that inside,” Esme suggests. “In your room. So it doesn’t get broken. You can come back out to play if you want. If not, dry socks please. Your feet are probably soaked.”

“And put my boots on the mat by the door and all wet stuff in the sink in the laundry room.”

“You got it.” She playfully tugs on the braided ties dangling from his head, then taps a fingertip against the end of the nose before he rushes off. “Hey, handsome,” she greets Tyler with a brilliant smile; one that’s a testament to immense relief his return brings. “Long time no see. Already upping your ‘best daddy in the world’ game, huh?”

“Couldn’t let him down, could I?”

“You never do. How was your flight?”

“It was alright.” He shrugs his bag further up onto his shoulders and reaches up to cup the back of her head in his palm, other hand falling on the small of her back and pulling her tightly into him. Despite the enormous difference in both weight and height, their bodies have always felt perfect together; easily and effortlessly melding into one another. He’d felt it that first day; 13 years ago in that rundown hotel room in Dhaka. She had felt amazing; soft skin and curves in all the right places, body warm and responding so eagerly and willingly to his. Everything it...about her...had felt good. It had felt right. And still does.

“I missed you.” Esme says, and perches herself on her tiptoes; the soles and heels of her bare feet lifting out her Crocs as she curls her arms around his neck.

“I missed you too. You have no idea how much.”

They both feel the stress and the worry immediately lift; her body leaning into his and her eyes closing, his hand gently pressing her head into his chest, his forearm sliding just under her ass. For minutes they stand in silence simply embracing one another and enjoying the reunion; snowflakes gathering in their hair and on the shoulders of their jackets. And when she eventually pulls away, he leans down to kiss her; long and soft and slow, palm moving from the back of her head to her cheek.

Tyler glances down, a grin playing on his lips. “What’s up with that outfit?”

“It’s a long story.” She reaches up to trace her fingertips over a handful of fresh scratches and gouges mar his face and forehead. “What’s up with these?”

“Those are also a long story. We’re missing one. There’s only six spawn. What happened? Finally have enough? Is she buried in the backyard?”

“I did FINALLY crack but she’s very much alive. She went to Alannah’s last night; for a sleepover. Alannah’s mom took them out today; for lunch and a movie and to do some Christmas shopping.” Alannah is one of the many friends Millie has managed to make during their trips to New York City; the daughter of a Korean diplomat and a former Rockette.

“She’s been THAT bad?”

“Let’s put it this way; she’s lucky she’s still breathing and I’m lucky I'm still sober.”

“Yikes. Not what I wanted to hear. Guess we’ll be talking about that later.”

“It can wait. No rush. She’ll be home for dinner. I’m sure she’ll still be in a mood.”

“I’ll handle it if she is.”

“And then I’ll get blamed for turning daddy against her.”

“Well, she’s got to learn. No one disrespects my wife. Not someone we know, not a complete stranger, not my own kids.”

“Always the protective husband. You hungry?”

“I could eat.”

“Tanner made some amazing soup yesterday and he insisted we save you some. And there’s fresh coffee AND the hot tub is already.”

“Best wife EVER.”

“I try. To keep my man happy.”

Smiling, he smoothes her hair away from her hair and loops errant strands behind her ears. “You do a very good job at that. And later, I’ll make YOU very happy.”

Esme grins. “Is that a promise?”

“That’s a promise.” He kisses her once more; her face cradled in both hands and her body more melting into his his.

Her smile is softer; eyes sparkling with a mixture of relief and happiness. And love. There’s always love there. And he's certain there always will be.

“I missed you,” he says yet again, and leans down to place a kiss on her temple and nuzzles the tip of his nose against her ear.

Pulling back to look at him, her hand once more moves to his face. Knuckles skimming along his jaw before her palm cups his cheek, her eyes never leaving his as two of her fingertips glide over his lips. She allows the the bottom of his chin to rest in the curve between thumb and forefinger, then softly and briefly brushes her mouth against his

“Welcome home, baby,” she whispers against his lips, then takes his hand in hers and leads the way inside.

[bangtan-madi]

Year of the Rabbit — Two: Frostbitten

Pairing — Jungkook x Reader, Hoseok x Yoongi

Tags — best friend!Jungkook, non-idol au, flower shop au, gym au, florist!MC, gym owner!Jungkook, friends to lovers, slow burn, mutual pining

Genre — fluff

Word Count — 2.6k

Summary — Blame it on the storm or the secret feelings or the snow-in, but one thing is for sure: a lot can happen to two best friends when they're confined to their stores overnight.

Warnings — language

Part — 2 / 5(?)

Previous — Next

Seven minutes past seven, the lights over your head begin to flicker. One by one, the seconds tick by, and your heart palpitates with their rhythm. Laptop on the desk in the office of the small, upper room, the very last thing you need right now is for the power to cut out. You're nowhere near finishing your orders; your work night is far from over.

Par the course of your luck these days, the lights shut off thirty seconds after they begin to fail. Just before you can let out a string of frustrated curses, they return to their former glory.

A huge sigh of relief passes from your lungs, and you slump back in the uncomfortable office chair, wondering how the hell Yoongi does it for hours on end.

"I need coffee," you murmur, pushing the laptop away and placing your phone on the desk.

Trotting over to the machine on the other side of the upper floor, you find Hoseok's assortment of beverage selections perfectly organized in a tiny cupboard. The upper floor of the shop is split into two rooms: The first is the office, which is where Yoongi does a lot of the business-end tasks that keep the store operational.

The second, smaller room is a place Hoseok claimed as his own. It's hardly bigger than a closet, but the younger of your partners took it upon himself to create a sanctuary of peace and quiet. There's a coffee machine and a tiny cabinet on one side of the room. The other has a sofa-bed, decorated with a plush throw-pillow and a battery-powered heated blanket. You've had plenty a study-session, cat-nap, and girl-chat (with Hoseok, of course) in this room.

You pop the switch on the kettle and start boiling the water, plucking a Hazelnut dark roast from the vast array of flavors. On the wall facing away from the door, there's a tiny window that reveals the expanse of Seoul. On a normal day, it allows just enough light to get by. This evening, however, there is no such blessing. The sun went down over an hour and a half ago, and the weather has worsened. Snow and wind blast against the side of the building, the remnants of winter releasing their fury on the Lunar New Year.

As the water boils, your thoughts turn to Jungkook, this time out of concern. He hasn't texted or called since he left for your apartment, which makes you assume that the service is down due to the weather. When he exited the shop, there was a dusting of white powder on the ground. Now, you were one inch away from a proper blizzard. Peering out the tiny window, you can hardly see the sidewalk or streets. There must be at least a foot of snow on the ground. From the angry black sky and thunderous display overhead, it is only going to get worse.

"If you're smart, you stayed at my place," you murmur, hoping that your stubborn excuse of a best friend headed his inner warning system.

But then again, who are you kidding? Jungkook doesn't listen to anyone, especially the little voice in his head that advises against danger.

After your coffee is brewed and you begin to stir in the sugar, a loud crash sounds outside the shop. Thinking it the wind picking up, you ignore it and continue to add sugar to your desired amount.

It happens again, this time with added vocals. "[Y/n]! Open up!"

You drop the spoon and rush from the room. Definitely not the storm; the wind doesn't howl your name.

When you reach the top of the stairs, you see a familiar figure huddled against the glass door. A bicycle tightly grasped in one hand, the other presses against the glass in an attempt to peer inside. Jungkook is hardly dressed for the weather, wearing the same black jeans and oversized black sweater as before.

Without thinking much longer, you take the stairs two at a time and unlock the front door in a hurry. Thrusting it open, you grab ahold of Jungkook's snow-dusted sweater and drag both him and his bike into the shop. It takes all your strength to fight the wind enough to shut and lock it once more.

"You biked here in the snow?" You turn on your heel, shooting the shivering man a sharp look. "Jeon Jungkook, what the hell were you thinking!"

Jungkook tosses his bicycle onto the floor, frozen metal hurting his chilled fingers. As he blows heat into his clasped hands, he mirrors your tone with, "That you were gonna be here all by yourself, i—idiot! You're the one not answering your damn phone. I c—called you four times and texted you at least a dozen! Every time it went straight to v—voicemail."

"Yeah, that's probably because the cell service is shit right now!" you snap. "Storms always blow it out, and it's not like we have wifi."

"That makes it so m—much better!"

As if the situation couldn't get worse, the lights flicker once again, this time shutting off with a loud pop. You give it a few seconds, waiting for it to return like last time, but no such event comes.

You thrust your hands into the air with frustration. "Oh, this is great. Now, we're gonna freeze together."

The Busan native chuckles softly. "Already ha—half-way there."

Your gaze shifts from the darkened lights overhead to your best friend. For the first time since he blew in a few moments ago, you see how cold he really is. In the dim light given by the near-constant sheet lightning, his features are unnaturally pale. His fingertips are scarlet, and his entire body shakes violently. If the storm wasn't so loud, you would be able to hear his chattering teeth.

"Shit, Jungkook," you murmur, reaching for his hands with concern. Your warm touch causes him to hiss, but he doesn't pull away. If anything, he lets you pull him closer. "How long were you out there in that?"

"Well, I left your apartment when I couldn't get a—ahold of you," he chatters quietly, letting his eyes slip closed as you attempt to encase his larger, tattoed hands in your own. "Elizabeth the 3rd is fine, by the way. Fat and happy and com—completely oblivious."

"When was that?"

"A little after six-thirty?"

Your eyes widen, shifting from the attention on his frostbitten hands to his slightly opened eyes. "Kook, that's almost an hour in temperatures below zero! Forty-five minutes, at least! That's so dangerous. You could've died!"

"What's the alternative? L—Leaving you here at the shop by yourself?" He shakes his head, droplets of melted snow flying off the ends of his damp hair. "Not gon—na happen."

Your heart aches a little at his kind and selfless nature. He didn't even think twice before hopping on a bike and facing the storm to get to you, just to make sure you were safe. Now he was paying the price for it.

You pull him closer, taking his hands and shoving them into the pockets of your university sweatshirt. You'd been wearing it all night, so it was plenty warm. Jungkook is surprised by your actions, and you roll your eyes at his wide-eyed expression.

"Don't get any ideas," you tease. "You don't want to lose your fingers, do you?"

Jungkook snickers and allows his hands to greedily absorb the warmth you and your sweatshirt provide. "I'm more worried about what you might do."

You turn your head to glance over your shoulder, towards the exit. "Do you think we can get out of here? Hail a cab or get an Uber?"

"I don't know, [Y/n], it's really coming down out th—there. And on Lunar New Year? I doubt we'll see anyone for a while. They're all at festivals freezing their asses off or at home with family."

"I hate it when you're right," you sigh, turning back to face him and rubbing your hands up and down his arms. "We've gotta get you warmed up, though. You're freezing."

The brunet attempts to brush off your concern. "I'm fine, really. I'm warming up al—already."

"Lies. You're riding the end of an adrenaline high. Once that wears off, you're going to crash and really regret coming back for me." You point towards the upper rooms. "We have a battery-powered heated blanket that gets pretty damn hot. Follow me."

Forcing Jungkook's hands to remain in your sweatshirt pockets, you tug him behind you, up the stairs and into the tiny retreat room. The darkness makes you have to take it slower, but you know the space like the back of your hand. Once inside, you shove him onto the tiny sofa bed and wrap him in the blanket, turning the heat up to high.

"Here," you say, taking the mug of coffee and pushing it into his hands. "Hold this. Drink it slowly so you don't burn yourself."

Jungkook takes a sniff at the coffee, but then pulls back and looks up at you. "But this was yours."

You shake your head. "Yours now. You need to warm up, Gym Bunny. Start drinking."

He scowls at you in defiance of being told what to do, but eventually gives up and takes his first sip of the warm beverage. Feeling how it warms him up from the inside, the second sip comes much more happily.

As you peer out the tiny window, Jungkook inquires, "How long do you think the st—storm will last?"

"I heard something about it lasting until the morning, so we might be here a while. It doesn't look good out there. Definitely not safe to leave the building. The service is out, and no one is going to drop by. I think we're stuck here until we can manage an exit ourselves."

"In that case..." Jungkook reaches out to grasp the edge of your sweatshirt, tugging you over to him. You hesitate in moving closer, both nervous and concerned about his still shivering figure. "It's only going to get colder in here, Flow—Flower Child. Might as well huddle for warmth while you can."

"Fine. But just so you know, I hate this rom-com bullshit...and if you cop a feel, I swear to god, I will kick you back out into the storm."

Jungkook chuckles as you relent. You slip onto the tiny sofa bed and under the heated blanket with him. His free arm wraps around your shoulders, bringing your head to rest against his shoulder, while his occupied hand holds the mug of coffee. He offers it to you with insistence.

"C'mon, one sip won't hurt. 'Sides, you're the one that dumped seven cups of sugar in it."

"Well, that's the last time I give you my coffee. Next time, you can freeze."

"Then who would you complain to about customers?"

You take a sip of the coffee, silently agreeing that you had gone a little heavy on the sweetener. "Hobi or Yoongi. We all have the same customers, you know."

"Yeah, except Yoongi will just stop selling to them rather than complain about it and Hoseok is sickeningly positive enough to see the good in everyone."

"Fair point."

He takes another sip of the coffee when you return the mug to his tattooed hand. "I honestly have no idea how those two work so well together. Business and personal, I mean. They're just so different."

"Opposites attract?" you offer. "They've known each other ever since high school."

"Yeah, I never got that full story."

"Yoongi moved to Seoul by himself after he moved out of his parent's house in Daegu. Not a great situation there, but that's not my story to tell. He met Hoseok at school. The ray of sunshine was class president and took a liking to Yoongi. He kinda took him under his wing, as they were in the same grade despite being a year younger. I'm honestly so glad he did; god only knows what Yoongi would've gotten into on his own in a big city. He's one of the few that got out of a bad situation, and he attributes a lot of that to Hobi."

"So who asked out who?" Jungkook asks, hoping to pass the time with casual conversation as the feeling slowly comes back to his extremities.

The question catches you off-guard and makes you laugh. "Believe it or not, Yoongi asked Hoseok. Twice. Hoseok turned him down the first time, thinking that they might ruin their friendship. He should've known that Yoongi doesn't give up when he wants something."

"So...they were friends first?"

You nod. "I mean, I've only known them since college, but they haven't changed a bit. I think being friends gave them a foundation for their relationship. From what Hobi's said about the pre-dating period, they were pretty much the same. Sure, there's a lot more kissing and, uh, stuff now that they're a couple, but they're still best friends."

A silence falls over you both as you enjoy the warmth under the heated blanket. Jungkook finishes the coffee, and you're relieved to see his shivering halt and color return over the next half hour.

The storm still rages outside, and Jungkook sighs as the wind blasts harder against the side of the building. "We can't stay here," he murmurs.

"Where can we go?" you reply, not eager to leave the confines of your warm cocoon. "You said it yourself: we're stuck until this passes."

He shakes his head and turns to look at you in the darkness. You can barely make out his features, even if they're only a foot away from yours. You hadn't realized you were this close until now.

"You're starting to shiver." His hands grasp yours, and it's only then that you see he's right. Your fingers have started to tremble, and your teeth are chattering slightly. "We can't stay here. No power, no heat, we'll never survive the night." He pauses, glances quickly to the door, then back to you. "I have an idea. Do you trust me?"

Your reply comes without hesitation. "More than anyone."

The words bring a smile onto Jungkook's face, and if it weren't so damn dark, you might've thought he was blushing. But that can't be right...

He grabs your hand, stands and drags you with him, and tightens the heated blanket around your shoulders. He's given up his portion of the warmth to keep you comfortable. When you attempt feeble protests, being too tired and cold to put much effort into fighting him, Jungkook places a warm hand over your mouth.

"Just do as I ask, just once, okay?"

"But you'll get cold again," you murmur, words muffled by his fingers.

The brunet moves his hand away from your mouth, dropping it to the blanket as he pulls the edges high enough to have the front draped over your head in a makeshift hood.

"Where we're going, we won't need the blanket." At your perplexed expression, he chuckles and reaches for your hand. "You'll see what I mean. Trust me, this idea is genius."

"Famous last words."

Taglist — @kookie-off-his-kookie​

[haro-whumps]

Group Whumpees 4: Responsibility

CW: referenced noncon, transphobia (out of ignorance, not malice, but VERY present), modern slavery, aftermath of abuse, multiple whumpees, abrasive language

Tag list: @bleeding-demon-teeth @theycomeinthrees @redwingedwhump @whimperwoods @inpainandsuffering @whole-and-apart-and-between @whump-whump-whump-it-up @whumpingupastorm @newandfiguringitout @lonesome-hunter @looptheloup @icannotweave @cowboysrappin @deluxewhump @whumping-every-day @yeet-me-out-a-window @what-a-whumpy-world @burtlederp 

This is... a LONG one...

First

Nyla and Evan helped Lilah clean up her open injuries and scabs, the many hands making light work, and they were off to join Greyson and Sasha in the kitchen in hardly any time at all. On the way there, Nyla detoured to the front facing window, and Master’s car from the night before was, indeed, gone.

She was the last to the kitchen but was able to smile and announce his absence. The nervous energy settled into relief and a bit of joy, and Nyla recounted the morning’s encounter to the others, Sasha frying up five sausages. 

“He’ll be gone most of the day,” Lilah repeated, thoughtful, and Evan flicked a lock of her hair.

“And he doesn’t eat breakfast, so the bread’s all ours.”

Lilah and Evan shared a smile, and Nyla sighed. Troublemakers, both of them, Lilah couldn’t keep her face from twisting up sourly or going vacant and Evan couldn’t keep his mouth shut to save his life, and the moment they got an inch of leash they started acting like hooligans. She was so fond of them both; she just wished they’d stop getting into trouble.

“We should talk, while he’s out,” Nyla asserted, fingertips drumming on the kitchen counter. “Compare observations and start up some guesswork on how to please him. He told us to ‘not push ourselves too hard’ today, so we can spare an hour or so for conversation, I think.”

“Is th-that really s-s-safe?” Sasha asked.

“He told us to,” Nyla repeated, fists balling, “I’ll take full blame for any ire, but he told us to, and we need to know what we’re going to do, here out. Grey, tell us what happened last night. Why were you in bed with us?” 

“He didn’t want anyone, last night,” Greyson stated calmly, though his normally immobile brow furrowed. “He cited being drunk, and said he wasn’t going to hurt us, but he was displeased, though by what, I cannot tell.”

“He probably wanted a fuck,” Evan said, and everyone tensed at his angry words. “Grey and I aren’t gonna cut it, anymore. We’ve got a Master now.”

“If that’s what he wanted, he would’ve sent for one of us, then,” Nyla dismissed with a shake of her head, washing her hands before checking to see if the bread was done. Close, but not quite yet. “He might have actually been too drunk to act on whatever he wanted, and that was what caused his displeasure.”

“I wouldn’t be so quick to assume either of those,” Greyson said contemplatively, and they all turned a wary eye on him. He leaned forward, even though there was no one else in the house to hear, and they all instinctively leaned towards him in response. “Things are… more complicated, with Master Galo. He’s one of those transvestites. I don’t know entirely what that means, for us, but I think that we shouldn’t rule any possibilities out.”

“He’s a girl?” Lilah asked, screwing up her face in confusion.

“Mm,” Greyson confirmed with a nod. 

“Should we call him ‘she?’”

“I think that would be a good way to make him angry,” Nyla discouraged, crossing her arms. “Greyson, why didn’t you bring this up sooner?”

“I’m honestly still not sure what to do with this information,” Greyson said as Sasha pulled the bread out of the oven and set it on the counter to cool, waving away the steam with an oven mitt. “I didn’t want to throw us all into unnecessary concern and confusion last night, when we were all already concerned and confused.”

“And if Evan or I had gone to lay at the foot of his bed?” Nyla asked, trying not to sound accusatory, but she was a little peeved with her friend.

Greyson simply shrugged. “Then I would have told you, since it would have been relevant.”

“So if he has a cunt, does that mean Grey and I are still on fucktoy duty?” Evan asked, changing the subject in a way he probably thought was subtle.

“Don’t, um, t-trannies get s-surgeries?” Sasha asked.

“I do remember Mistress complaining about that fairly often,” Nyla agreed, and Greyson frowned.

“He hadn’t mentioned surgery when talking about his life events. Or maybe that’s what ‘going on T’ meant…”

“Going on penis? No, that starts with a p; going on… the surgery table?” Evan sounded out, pulling a sausage link and two eggs from the skillets and accepting a slice of bread from Sasha, then passing the plate to Lilah. He did it twice more with Nyla and Greyson, before accepting one for himself, and Sasha filled her own.

“Regardless,” Nyla said, accepting the plate from Evan, “we should remain respectful. Master Galo has not indicated that we should call him anything but Master, and we’ll just have to see who he wants to fuck when we guess right.”

“I h-hate all this gu-guessing,” Sasha said miserably, stabbing her fork into the sausage a little harder than she normally would. Nyla sighed, just barely, and her expression softened.

“I’ll ask him again for foods that he likes,” Nyla promised. “For tonight, potatoes. I don’t think there’s been a single guess of Mistress’s that didn’t like potatoes,” Nyla decided, looking to Greyson. He nodded in confirmation; as the designated waiter, he’d seen more of Mistress’s guests at the dinner table than the rest of them combined.

“I c-can do pot-tatoes,” Sasha agreed, and Nyla smiled.

“Do you think he’ll want the garden redone?” Lilah asked, staring at the door that would lead to the back exit. Nyla screwed her lips up, and took a bite of bread and egg, buying herself time to think. 

“Do you think he’ll care?” Evan asked, rubbing a hand up and down Lilah’s back. “Worrying about gardens and flowers doesn’t seem very manly.”

“Lawncare is ‘a man’s job,’ though,” Lilah reminded.

“But if he’s not a-actually a m-man..?”

“I think we should probably operate under the assumption that he is a man, just not one that Mistress would approve of,” Greyson stated.

“Grey’s right,” Nyla agreed, “And Mistress is dead, and Master is here, so it’s his outlook that we should be concerning ourselves with, now.” Nyla smiled at Lilah reassuringly. “I’ll find out if he wants anything changed. Until then, carry on normally, and skip mowing for now.”

Nyla turned to Greyson next. “I’ll Attend, tonight, and if the displeasure continues we’ll take a new approach. Serve less wine at dinner tonight.” Greyson nodded.

“Are you gonna solve my problems too?” Evan asked, and she knew that although his tone was flippant, he was only half joking. She wasn’t though.

“Yes,” she said firmly, approaching him and crossing her arms, having to crane her neck back to stare up at him from this close but that was fine. She knew he was unsettled by this kind of proximity. “You, keep your mouth shut around Master. Don’t go peeving him for no reason; he’s not like Mistress.”

Evan met her gaze, and she couldn’t handle that, she could not handle that.

“Evan,” she said, a little harsher and a little more desperately, “You’ve seen how big he is,” she couldn’t help the crack in her voice on the words seen, “He could break you, Evan, he could kill you without too much effort. I know you made a habit of getting Mistress angry just so it would be over quicker, but you can not do that anymore.”

Evan’s eyes no longer met hers, sweat beading but that wasn’t enough.

“Promise me.”

“Nyla…”

“Evan, promise me you won’t do anything stupid or deadly. Promise me.”

“Ha… you’re really not having it, huh?”

“I’m not,” she agreed, voice smoother, now, controlled. She’d always had the best control, out of all of them. 

“...I promise I won’t get myself killed,” Evan said, and she huffed. It was as good as she would get without this turning into a full on spat, and none of their nerves could handle that at the time.

“Alright. He hasn’t hurt any of us yet and he’s very friendly. He liked dinner last night, regularly attends the gym, and has claimed the turquoise guest bedroom. He’s a transvestite, Mistress Bethany’s nephew, and he likes spinach, apples, celery, ginger, pasta and carrots. Do we know anything else about him?”

“He doesn’t care for his father,” Greyson answered. “When he was a child, he enjoyed the pool and antique musicals.”

“The pool and musicals are things we can work with,” Nyla said, feeling a little better just from having that much more information to go off of, “And we’ll be careful to steer clear regarding his father. Anything else?”

A quick survey of the kitchen confirmed that that was it, Sasha wringing her hands, Lilah gone all distant and Quiet again, Greyson’s eyes both sharp and tired, Evan sulking.

“Alright.” Nyla brushed down her apron. “We’ve been ordered to take it easy, today. I don’t know what that means, but focus on completing the smaller, more specialized tasks than heavy maintenance, alright?”

Four nods met her words, and she nodded as well. “Good. Let’s hop to it then.”

A loud noise from the front of the mansion had the blood in Nyla’s veins run like ice, porcelain smile reflexively stretched across her face and her spine ramrod straight, hands clasped neatly in front of her. Sasha jumped, Greyson stood from the kitchen stool with his face void and posture perfect, Lilah’s arms wrapped around herself like snakes, and Evan’s eyes blew wide.

Three more times, the sound came, the loose branch from the front maple finally swinging low in the strong winds outside.

“...Actually, Evan, would you go ahead and help Lilah with that branch in the front yard?” Nyla suggested, not quite able to pull the perfect smile off her face just yet.

Evan nodded, slinging his arm around Lilah’s shoulders--and Nyla smiled more genuinely at how his presence always managed to bring her back out. Her eyes were never all the way glassy, with Evan paying attention to her, even on the worse nights. She took a deep, only somewhat-shaky breath, and then patted her apron again, a few more times than strictly necessary.

“Right. Meet back here for lunch, everyone.”

And with that, she spun and strode out into the house. She woke up the tablet in the computer room and ordered the groceries Master Galo had requested, as well as more pasta, carrots, some beans, potatoes, and rice. She’d make a second, more comprehensive order when Master Galo gave her a better idea of his desires, but for now it couldn’t hurt to stock up on dietary staples. She pulled her notepad out of her apron’s pocket and jotted down “groceries 1” then immediately crossed it out, and wrote “groceries 2” beneath it. She quickly wrote down her list for the day, and then set out to complete the tasks.

She met Greyson in Master’s bedroom, helped him strip the sheets off the bed and put on new ones, then left him with Master’s discarded clothes from the night before and the unwashed bedding. She watered the potted plant Master had brought in, simply because she wasn’t sure if that should be Evan and Grey’s job or hers, and when that was the case she defaulted to taking it as hers. She made a list of the personal grooming tools Master Galo possessed, lifting the bottles of shampoo and soap to check how full they were. If it were mistress, Nyla would add another bottle of conditioner to the second list of groceries, but Master Galo had significantly less hair than she did. Better wait on that.

Master Galo did not, judging from the pile of items he’d removed from the walls and tables and whatnot, like the particularly gaudy form of art Mistress Bethany liked. She made note of that, and decided to revisit that later. She checked the stock on laundry materials--good--and if Lilah had enough gasoline--she did--before moving onto Mistress’s craft room. 

Nyla stared at it helplessly for only a moment. Mistress had required highly specific amounts of thread, beads, and fabric. Too much and there wouldn't be room to store them, too little and Mistress might run out, and that meant Nyla would be thoroughly beaten. Mistress never told Nyla what she had or hadn’t used; it was Nyla’s job to catalogue supplies every day, and make new orders every single day.

Learn Master’s hobbies and buy supplies, Nyla added to her list, closing the door to the craft room behind her. She would ask Master Galo how he would prefer to dispose of the materials. Ideally some other cousin or somesuch would want to inherit the supplies and would take care of it. Otherwise, Nyla felt the project looming over her head. She added garbage bags to grocery list 2, and then added totes and other moving containers as an extra precaution. 

Her most time consuming task suddenly no longer relevant, Nyla assisted her family with theirs, jotting down notes and their concerns as they came. Every now and then, worry would ping at her. She’d Attended Mistress plenty of nights, but never for sex, only for pain and to offer midnight assistance. Nyla had never worked on her back before. Evan uniformly hated it, but Greyson gave mixed reviews. Master Galo was large, and strong, and frightening, so Nyla couldn’t spend too much time on those lines of thought, always dragging herself back to cataloguing belongings, checking in on her family’s progress, and she even had the time to stop by the boiler room and check the water heater for any new leaks. At lunch, she felt fairly accomplished, almost-ready to face their Master. 

How to approach him, though? Mistress was at her most approachable between dinner and Jeopardy. The wine wouldn't have made her too likely to strike, yet, still moving through her system, and Mistress never took well to requests after her nightly show. But Master? Nyla had no idea. 

It meant guessing. It meant relearning everything she’d been viciously, painfully taught when she was fourteen and new here. It meant just… going for it, with no experience to take comfort in. Fine. 

She was the head of the household, and that was her job. So she'd do it. 

--

Galo had hoped that a trip to the gym would help clear his head. It had been a nice distraction, but not much else. So he called up the funeral place and got some groundwork laid out, and then wrote the email to his family and called his father preemptively, hopefully getting points for the fact that he’d called first, but probably not. And then his sister called, so he managed to weasel his way out of his father’s call with only an extra ten minutes after the beeps, and he called his sister back, and then his uncle called, and then a cousin wanted to know why the hell Galo had been the one put in charge and it had taken everything left in Galo’s fraying patience not to scream back, “Because I'm the only responsible member of this family!”

And so phonecall after phonecall went, and Galo had taken a painkiller before he’d dialed his father but he was still left with a headache when he was done. He couldn't even blame dehydration for it; he’d drunk plenty throughout the calls, wishing his water was alcohol. 

He had hoped, rather vainly, that his subconscious would process whatever was happening in Auntie Bethany’s house while he worked out and talked to his godawful family. He tried to think about the people there, about the enormity of what had happened to them, and his brain still hit a blank wall. 

It was too much, so, break it down. What did he, for a fact, know?

He pulled an old, beat up notebook out of his computer bag, flipped past the work he’d done in college, and clicked his pen.

The Den is a bad place

Nyla doesn’t like having her face touched

Galo felt his head clear, a little. He drew a line down the middle of the page and started a second column.

Auntie Bethany kept five slaves in a perpetual state of fear, and tortured them.

Back on the first column:

Greyson has burn scars all over his arms and whip/knife/??? scars all over his back

Sasha cannot speak, y/n questions only, or get Nyla

Don’t flex in front of them

Nyla is in charge(???) Probably.

Lilah is the gardener

Sasha is the cook

Greyson is a waiter? Probably?

Evan… housework?

Galo genuinely wasn’t sure what Evan and Greyson’s jobs were, but, whatever. They knew what they were doing. A sour thought twisted in his stomach, and he made another bulletpoint in the right column.

Auntie Bethany

It was too awful to write. He didn’t want to acknowledge it, didn’t want to spell it out. Not his own family, his flesh and blood. But shying away from the truth would probably only cause them harm, down the line.

Auntie Bethany raped Greyson. Probably Evan, too.

Auntie Bethany had been a deeply queerphobic individual. Galo could at least be certain that she would never have fucked Nyla, Sasha, or Lilah, as pathetic of a comfort as that was. But the fact that she’d--

Focus.

Lilah is very injured right now. Reassign her?

Nyla orders groceries, she wants foods I like. Think up some ideas.

Did he still have his blue highlighter? He did! He highlighted that one, since it required him to do something. Do something, ha, good idea. He really, really needed to think of what to do. These people needed help, and at present he was the only one who could give it to them. He flipped the page over and started, on a blank sheet, a new list, separate from his observations and theories.

Ideas!

Give clear, achievable orders.

Look into therapists who have a precedence with treating abused slaves.

Reassign Lilah?

He’d written that on the first list but eh, it belonged here more.

Keep acting cheerful?

The problem was: he wasn’t sure if that was working. His flighty reflex-brain had been insistent on acting calm, friendly, approachable, like nothing was wrong and everything was okay, but was that the best option? He frightened them so badly… But if not that, then what else?

Briefly, he thought of maybe scaring them into acting out, and then showing them it was fine for them to do that, but he quickly discarded the idea. He’d seen enough of Greyson and Sasha to know that whatever he did, they’d just accept it, and probably break down crying part way through. Whatever Auntie Bethany had done to them, she’d snuffed out their resistance. 

He instinctively rejected the idea of playing pretend at a cruel master, but then forced himself to reexamine the idea. Not a cruel master, no, but maybe… a strict one? Give them order, stability, expectations.

Yeah, right. Galo was a reliable dude, but he’d never been strict a day in his life. He’d… half-play at Master Galo, since that’s technically what he was, but given his own abilities, what he’d seen so far, and what he knew of human psychology, keeping things friendly and chill would probably be the best route, especially at the start. He could settle into something more serious as they got to know each other better, and the five of them started to accept that he wouldn’t hurt them, but right now? Right now they’d surely take anything other than 100% happy as a sign of displeasure, and catastrophize accordingly.

Oh… maybe they could help Galo with funeral plans. A way for them to feel helpful and successful, and genuinely so.

Aunty Bethany had more than enough flowers on her estate to bury her in.

Funeral plans: flowers, setup, catering?

Galo wondered what Sasha did all day. Cooking for six surely couldn’t be… that time consuming? Maybe she was just slow.

Ask Nyla how quickly Sasha is able to cook large quantities of food, and if catering is an option

Asking Sasha herself, even if it could be framed as a yes or no question, would probably just give the poor woman the shakes again. 

Galo read over his lists, and felt… better. Like, still garbage, definitely still garbage, but less headachey and less helpless in the face of it all. 

He went back to his apartment, and surveyed his belongings. He’d brought his necessities to his aunt’s--his house the night before, but that still left, like, everything else. Hm. He was rich now. He could hire movers. He could pay people to do this shit for him. But also like… did he need the bed? The couch? No. He had no emotional attachment to most of his furniture, thrifted or found on curbs or given to him by a college roommate, it was mostly just the smaller stuff that was important.

He took some pictures, listed some craigslist ads, and then looked at a couple different moving companies. He skimmed reviews, searching through services that were pricey enough he would’ve once never even glanced at them, searching for people who took their time and packed things sensibly, and carefully. Satisfied, he called up the one he liked best, and scheduled the day after the funeral.

And then, because he was rich as hell now, and he could, he typed out a two-weeks notice and printed it out from his apartment’s printer. He would swing by his work… tomorrow or sometime, and drop this off. It was more of a “Hey I’ll be there next week” notice, since he’d taken this one off for funeral related reasons (and also slave related reasons, he knew now), and if his boss wanted to let him off the same day, he’d absolutely take it. It wasn’t like they were short-handed, at the moment, so Galo very easily could be staring down a very early retirement. He thought again of going back to school, once he sorted out everything with the slaves.

That would be nice.

He packed up his game systems, the book he was in the middle of, and his good luck charm, and left his apartment to head back to his house. He should probably start the process of letting his landlord know he was breaking his lease, and pay that off, but eh. He could do that… later. It was early enough in the month that he had plenty of time.

When he got through the front door (had it been oiled? He remembered it being heavier, the night before) he did a double take at the pile of gaudy garbage he’d made of his aunt’s weird… “art.” It was bigger than the night before.

He squinted down at a little green-red-white-gold “Egyptian” bird statue. He definitely hadn’t seen that the night before, though he couldn’t exactly say he was unhappy to see it in the garbage pile. 

“Welcome home, Master,” Nyla greeted, gliding into the foyer with that unnatural grace of hers. In a different life, maybe she could’ve been a dancer.

“Hi, Nyla. I’m glad you’re here, I wanted--”

Galo cut off when Nyla dropped down to her knees, fluid as silk, cupped Galo’s hand and wrist, and placed a delicate kiss to his palm. Right. Hand kissing was a thing, he should add that to his list. He briefly considered discouraging it, but, well, it was a harmless gesture, and he needed to be careful about picking his battles here at the start.

“Thanks, Nyla,” he said, giving her a little pat to the head. He then extended his hand to her, and said, “I wanted to ask you a couple questions about how things, like, operate around here?” She placed her hand inside his, but when she rose it was weightless, no pressure to his hand in the slightest. Maybe not a dancer, maybe, like, a wraith or something. 

“I would be happy to answer all questions, Master,” Nyla said, her hands clasped neatly in front of her, her smile looking genuine. Galo smiled back; maybe this wouldn’t be so awful after all? “If now is a good time, Master, may I ask you questions as well?” 

“Yeah, yeah, now’s good.” Galo shifted his duffle on his shoulder. “Let me set this stuff down first? Is the living room good for you?”

Nyla bowed a little, eyes lowered deferentially. “The living room is a fine choice, Master. May I assist in carrying anything?”

“No offense,” Galo said, giving her a very brief once over, “but I’m pretty sure I’m better equipped to be carrying heavy shit than you are, Nyla.”

“Of course, Master,” she said, and there was that nervous little twitch, the way she locked up. Nyla was… a very good actor, Galo thought to himself. It would be hard to suss out what was a genuine reaction from her and what she’d been trained to show. Knowing Aunty Bethany, she’d probably told Nyla that girls are prettier when they’re smiling with their mouths shut.

Galo settled his duffle to the side, where hopefully no one would trip over it. He’d unpack it later. “So, Nyla,” he said, sitting down on the weirdly shaped, petite couch-adjacent thing that looked best able to hold Galo’s weight, “what is it you want to know?”

Nyla moved like water over well-worn stones, the way she knelt down at Galo’s feet, shoulder touching the couch lookalike but all of her weight on her ankles. He hoped his brain got over how fluidly she moved soon, because it was gonna get old fast, if he got taken aback every time Nyla did literally anything. Did his aunt insist on this, too? Was this part of what she did to them?

“Master, if I may trouble you for your preferences in meals, I would be grateful.”

“Oh, yeah, here,” Galo pulled a folded up piece of notebook paper from his back pocket and handed it to Nyla. “I mostly just jotted down general ideas and like, overarching stuff I like? Instead of specific meals, but I trust Sasha’s judgement.”

Nyla took the paper in slender fingers (she was too thin; was his aunt responsible for that, too?) and unfolded it with silent delicacy. She read over it briefly, and then refolded it and tucked it into her apron pocket.

“This is perfect, Master, thank you for your thoughtfulness and effort.”

“Yeah, sure. Hey, Nyla,” he said, coaxing and gentle as he could, but it still made her lock up, smile looking fixed, “would you sit with your legs bent in front of you? Like, sit with your butt on the floor and your legs, like, criss-cross-applesauce, but both of your knees facing the same direction. Yeah, like that, and lean your weight against the lip of the couch here--perfect, Nyla, thank you.” Galo smiled at her, glad now that her poor ankles weren’t taking the weight of literally her entire body. “Would you be okay if I touched your hair?”

A moment’s hesitation. “If Master wouldn’t find it troublesome…”

Galo chuckled, just a little, even though his heart ached for her. He placed his palm gently on her head, and pet slowly, carefully down, before repeating the motion. She seemed, at the very least, not to mind it. “What else did you need?”

“At your leisure, Master, would you find time to survey the estate gardens and see if they are to your liking? We will gladly change anything you disapprove of.”

“Oh, yeah, no, I’m sure they look fine, but that’s actually related to one of my questions.”

“Yes Master?” Nyla asked, and Galo would call the tone there eagerness.

“Should Lilah be the gardener? I know she’s not, like, young-young, but I’ve seen some of my aunt’s yardwork equipment and it seems kinda big for someone that small. Especially since she’s, y’know, all injured and stuff.”

“Lilah is the best gardener of the group, Master. I doubt anyone would do as well as she does, and she’s never been injured by any of the equipment, Master. However, if her role displeases you, Master, we will not hesitate to acclimate to your desires.”

So… Auntie Bethany had put each and every bruise and cut on Lilah’s body. It was a hard thought to swallow. “It doesn’t displease me,” Galo said, voice quiet. “If you all think she’s the best fit, you’d know better than me. Please tell her to ask for help if something’s too cumbersome for her, though.”

“Yes Master.”

Galo gave her a little scritch, smiling encouragingly. “What else?”

“Hobbies, Master. I would like to know your routine and hobbies, so that we may best provide for them.”

Galo tilted his head. “What do you mean?”

“Mistress enjoyed needlework and beading, Master. Her craft room is very full of her supplies, which I regularly stocked. I would delightedly do the same for you, if I knew what your hobbies are.”

“Oh, uh, video games, mostly, which don’t really require… like, physical materials. I like working out, but I’d prefer to go to a gym than have equipment here. It gets me out of bed in the morning, y’know? Um…”

Ha, Galo was a pretty boring person, huh? Working out and gaming, not exactly the most interesting set of hobbies…

“Thank you for informing me, Master. What would you like done with Mistress’s old craft room?”

“Uhh, probably just pack it up. If none of my cousins want it, I’ll drop it by a thrift store or something. Maybe donate it to one of those places that does crafts with kids? I dunno, I’ll find somewhere to donate it.”

“Yes Master, thank you sir.”

“Anything else?” Galo asked. She sounded like she was done but it was better to ask.

“No, Master, thank you for indulging your servant.”

“Uh, hardly an indulgence, Nyla. It’s good for you to ask questions: I don’t know what you don’t know.”

Was that worded weird? It took Nyla a moment to process, it seemed, before she answered back, “Yes Master, I will continue to ask questions, Master.”

“Good girl, Nyla,” Galo said, giving her hair another scritch. “So, hey,” Galo wished he knew how to start sentences without making her stiffen, “does Lilah grow flowers, do you know?”

“Yes, Master, is there a kind you like?”

“Uh, lilies?”

“There are a number of lilies that can be brought into the house for you, Master.”

“Sweet. So this would actually be for Auntie Bethany’s funeral this Saturday, and I would need them in arrangements. Do you think Lilah could make flower arrangements, or would I be better off hiring a professional?”

“Lilah is very competent, Master, and has done well enough to please Mistress for the past few years. She can do a sample arrangement for you, Master, so you may see if her work is to your standards.”

“Sure! Have that be her job for tomorrow. Thanks. And, on the same subject: do you think Sasha would do okay making horderves for the funeral, or should I cater?”

Galo was careful to provide a second option. If he gave a “no” answer, that would make it more okay than telling Galo no unprompted. He was trying, trying his absolute best, to remain delicate here.

“Sasha is quite competent, Master, and I am certain would be relieved to have enough work to keep her so busy. May I know what you would like to serve, so I may order the materials?”

“Yes, but not tonight. I need to call the funeral place again tomorrow morning and get some suggestions. I’ll get that to you then?”

“Thank you, Master. You are generous, sir.”

Galo frowned. That wasn’t generous. It wasn’t anything worth mentioning. But he needed to be clever, redirect Nyla, not shut her down entirely.

“And thank you, Nyla. You’re being a big help.”

He watched her lips part, her chest expand with a breath and then hover, uncertain, but before she could figure out what to say they were interrupted by Greyson very quietly announcing, “Master, dinner is served.”

It was delicious, and this time, Galo asked Greyson to pass along his appreciation to Sasha. He couldn’t avoid her entirely, he knew, that wouldn’t make her any less scared of him, but he could keep things infrequent at the start. After dinner he took a quick jog around the property, amazed once again by the sheer vastness of the garden. Was it fair that only one person, and a little person at that, was in charge of maintaining all this? Galo had second thoughts about Nyla’s advice, but unless he saw Lilah being actively exhausted by the labor, he would follow Nyla’s direction for now. It would be important to show that he valued and trusted the things they said to him. Just not at the expense of anyone’s wellbeing, which he thought a fair compromise.

He looked at Auntie Bethany’s craft room, but was quickly overwhelmed and left. That was a lot of tiny drawers, a lot of baskets of fabric, a lot of embroidery hoops and pincushions and things Galo didn’t even know the names of. Movers. He’d have movers deal with… that.

The pile of weird, gaudy shit had grown even larger. Galo sifted through it, checking that it was indeed all awful, intolerable junk that he wanted gone, and it all was.

Nyla and Evan entered the foyer, each of them on a side of the fugliest imitation Greek statuette Galo had ever seen. Where had Auntie Bethany even kept that?

“Master Galo!” Nyla greeted when she saw him, after setting the statue down. Evan sank fluidly to his knees, head low, while Nyla approached him, hands clasped and smiling wide. “Do all the items present fail to meet your standards, Master?”

“Yeah, yeah they sure do. You guys are doing great,” Galo praised, slowly reaching out and patting Nyla on top of the head. She seemed to like that? He had no way of actually knowing, but he was pretty sure she enjoyed it. “Thanks, Evan, for all your help,” Galo said, approaching him. He extended his hand half-curiously and sure enough, when Evan raised his head he kissed Galo’s palm. Galo smiled at him, admittedly befuddled but, hey, of all the weird habits Auntie Bethany could have and likely did drill into them, this one wasn’t so bad. Carefully, he pat Evan’s head, but retracted his hand when the man went entirely rigid.

“I’ve had a long day,” Galo said, turning back to Nyla. “I’m turning in early. Night.”

“Goodnight, Master Galo,” Nyla and Evan chorused, perfectly in sync.

Galo did not see Nyla standing there, smile unmoving, eyes unblinking, hands clasped so tightly her knuckles turned white. Galo did not witness Evan slowly stand, and place his hand warmly on top of hers. Galo didn’t hear Evan lean in and whisper that Nyla would be alright, that with men it went faster, anyways. Galo did not hear Nyla press a kiss to Evan’s cheek and tell him that she would be fine, yes, and to tell the others that they were done for the day.

Galo did hear her knock on his door while he was pressing his fingers gently into the soil of his potted plant, befuddled by the moisture there, and he did see her enter, her hands smoothing down her apron before she folded them once again in front of her.

“Nyla?” Galo asked, his memories with Greyson the night before vividly returning, sickly aware that this was probably going to be round two. “Why aren’t you in your room?”

Nyla didn’t move, barely twitched, her smile relentless. She took longer to respond, that time, than she had since Galo had arrived. “I watered the plant earlier today, Master,” she blurted, for a certain value of blurted. It was probably blurting, for her.

“You, oh!” Galo turned back to it, cup of water still in his hand, unpoured. “Thank you, Nyla. I appreciate how attentive you are, but please don’t do that anymore.” Galo left the windowsill and placed the cup on the bedside table. He smiled at her, he wasn’t unhappy, he didn’t want her to feel like she’d messed up, he just wanted her to not do it anymore. “I like having something to take care of, okay? Watering my plant is part of my routine. It’s a responsibility I enjoy.”

“Yes Master, I apologize. I will do better, Master.”

“Thank you Nyla,” he said, approaching her very slowly. He wished he hadn’t taken his shirt off already, getting ready to shower. It made this encounter feel even more charged, and that wasn’t exactly something he wanted. “If that’s all, then why don’t you go ahead and go to your room?”

Nyla kept smiling at him, although now it definitely looked forced. “I am here to Attend, Master. My body is present and available for your service and ple--”

“No,” Galo cut her off, raising a hand between them. He was far from her face, but she flinched anyway. Galo took a deep breath. So much of him was screaming, he just wanted to send her away, maybe cry, maybe hit something. He wanted to storm down to the mortician and revive Auntie Bethany so he could strangle her with his own hands. But he needed to address this, as much as he absolutely hated it, because it clearly wasn’t going to go away on its own.

“Nyla,” Galo said, trying very hard to keep his voice even. “What do you mean when you say you’re here to ‘Attend’ me?”

“You may punish me, if you like, Master. Beat me or whip me or slice me as you see fit.”

“You haven’t done anything worth punishing, Nyla,” Galo said, gentle and firm as his nauseous voice could manage.

“If not punishment, then simply a reminder of my place, that I am subservient to you and you are always able to do anything you wish with me.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Galo said, hating how this sounded like she was reciting something, like she’d been forced to memorize these words exactly. How could he stop playing into her script? What could he do to break this? But at the same time, he needed to know. He hadn’t known that Auntie Bethany would ‘remind them of their place,’ he hadn’t known that there was some sort of ritualistic punishment. It was almost as bad as--

“Then, of course, you may fuck me, Master. I am,” a hitch of breath that hit Galo like ice in the gut, “open, Master, and available to serve you however you wish.”

Galo reached out a hand and stopped himself, hovering near her cheek. Nyla didn’t like her face touched. He changed course and set his palm on top of her head, staring down at her with an ache inside him.

“I’m not going to rape you, Nyla. I promise, I swear to you.” He gently reached out his other hand and delicately pried her hands apart. She was gripping them hard enough to hide their shaking, but she trembled in his palm. “No more of this, alright? I don’t want you to, to Attend me. Any of you. No more coming to my room at night and offering things, okay?”

“Yes, Master.”

“Will you promise me, for all five of you?”

“Yes, Master. I promise, we will not come to your room at night or,” Nyla licked dry lips, “offer to Attend you any longer.”

“Thank you Nyla,” Galo said, rubbing a thumb over her pale hair. “Now go to bed, alright?”

“Yes Master,” Nyla whispered, and swaned away, light as a ghost.

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