#If this gets more notes than the drawing I spent all weekend on I will go feral

[cosmonaughty]

idk what possessed me to do this

[honeyhotteoks]

this night together - chapter fourteen (j.yh + s.mg)

chapter fourteen: what we mean to each other

chapter summary: making amends is hard, moving on is hard, but you have a home now in a way you've never had before. together, you move forward through it all.

warnings/notes: this chapter still deals with the aftermath of the attack, so all previous warnings apply, but i think you'll see we're coming out of it now and into much happier times. this is the start of an absolute fluff fest, and we'll be back to smut in the next chapter. specific warnings for: discussions of physical attack, anxiety, ptsd, consent conversations, past s*xual assault (mentioned in passing), issues with police and the legal system because lbr the cops aren't doing anything good for assault victims, and reader has a triggering moment with her neck but she works through it just fine

pairings: alpha!yunho x alpha!mingi x omega!reader

genre: smut, a/b/o/omegaverse, angst, fluff, romance, polyamory

word count: 14.3k

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It’s been days. Days of staying safe behind the walls of their apartment, days of dodging calls from your friends, days of cocooned self preservation. They haven’t left you for a single minute. You spent the weekend trading off who’s lap you were cuddled on and bickering over episodes of Single’s Inferno and you’ve never needed anything more. 

Slowly though, things start to shift. 

You’re showered, for one. And Yunho and Mingi both have settled back into their routines as best they can without leaving the apartment. Video games, mindless scrolling, paging through books and cooking balanced meals instead of another day of takeout. 

On Monday, Seonghwa confirms your worst suspicions by texting you a photo of the formal letter he received via Minseok’s attorney. You expect Yunho and Mingi’s are in the mail. Every time your phone chimes you expect it to be the police or some other official legal summons. Your mind has started to turn over every detail of the event with calculated detail, and your internet history stretches long with research. 

By Tuesday, you’ve caved and finally started answering Wooyoung’s texts with more than just single word responses or emoji confirmations that you’re still alive. The moment you do, he takes the opening and runs with it just like you knew he would. 

As you wait for the hot water for your tea to boil in the kettle, you re-read his most recent text again. 

Do you want to get out of the house for a bit? We can try that new spot by the bookstore?

Your stomach feels tight at the idea of going out and you do your best to tap out a reply that you think sounds casual and relaxed - Maybe next time, let’s just catch up and relax here? 

You watch the message send and deliver and in nearly real-time it flicks over to read. Dots appear as he types. 

Sure - his message reads - I’ll be there in an hour

An hour. You shouldn’t be so nervous to see your best friend, but the idea of opening up your little sanctuary to anyone right now feels a little fraught. The kettle whistles, and you hear feet shuffling against the vinyl flooring as Yunho crosses over into the kitchen and you lock your phone and Wooyoung’s messages away so you can focus. 

“Hey,” You murmur, giving him a smile as you pull the kettle off the heat. 

“Hey,” Yunho smiles back, leaning against the opposite counter, “everything okay?” 

“Mhm,” You tell him, just a little white lie. 

“Is Woo still coming by?” He questions.  

“Yeah,” You nod, setting the kettle on a pad so it doesn’t damage the countertop, “he said around an hour,” 

Yunho nods and then slides a bit closer to you, his hand stroking up and down your back once until he settles it on your hip. “Hey,” he says again, “can we talk?”

A nervous pang strikes in your gut, but he doesn’t look upset, so you take a guess at what he wants, “Is it okay that he’s coming?” 

“Wooyoung?” His brows draw together, “Of course, that’s not what I meant,” 

“Oh,” You turn towards him more fully, leaning against the counter with him, “okay, what’s up?” 

“I want to apologize,” He says, swallowing tightly. 

“Apologize,” You blink. 

He nods. 

“Okay,” You can see how whatever he’s about to say is bothering him, the stress under the surface, but you have no idea what he’s sorry for. 

“Listen,” He reaches and takes your hand, pulling you a little closer to him, “I know you know I’m sorry, but I haven’t said it clearly and you deserve that,” 

“Oh,” You relax further into his space until you can feel your bodies brushing together, the warmth radiating off his skin. 

“The way I reacted at the studio after your last heat was wrong,” He says in a rush of air as he laces your hands together, “and I haven’t gotten the chance to really say that,” 

“It’s okay,” You shake your head, soothing him a little, “you don’t have to,” 

“No,” He insists with a squeeze of your fingers, “I do. That day, I was worried and jealous and confused, but I let my anger get the better of me and that’s not something I normally do.”

You squeeze his fingers back, letting him know you’re listening. 

His eyes flick up from your joined hands to your eyes as he continues, “It’s not something I should have ever put on you or something you should ever see,” 

“People get angry,” You start to say. 

He’s firm when he shakes his head, “People get angry, but I don’t get angry at you. Ever.” 

“Yunho,” 

“I yelled at you,” He squeezes your hands, “I cursed at you,” 

“I did the same thing right back,” You remind him. 

“It’s not the same,” He presses, brushing right past your words, “and I’m apologizing because I’m telling you, y/n, it will never happen again.” 

“You think we’ll never have a fight?” You smile, “That’s optimistic,” 

“This isn’t a joke,” He sighs, “please,” 

“I’m sorry,” You tuck closer to him, unlacing your hands so you can snake your arms around his middle, “and I appreciate you apologizing for that fight, but I was upset you were being possessive and emotional after all the cold shoulder, you yelling wasn’t really high on my list of concerns,” 

He’s quiet for a moment, but then he nods, “I’ll get to that in a second, but will you hear me on this one thing?” 

“I’m listening,” 

“I hate to bring it up again,” He grimaces a little, “but I’ve just spent four days watching you jump at every noise around the apartment and wake up every night fucking terrified,” 

Your eyes shoot down. 

“And before I apologize for all the other ways I’ve been an ass to you,” His warm hands settle on your skin, thumb brushing along your jaw, “of which I know there are many,” 

You smile at that. 

“Yelling at you like that,” He sighs, “talking to you like that has been bothering me for months. I need to apologize for it because I need you to know that you’ll never, ever hear it again. Mingi said his peace, but it’s important to me that you know you’re safe with me in every way. If we’re going to do this, I need you to know you can tell me anything, including telling me off when I make mistakes, and I won’t get angry like that again.” 

“I already know that,” You look up, meeting his firm gaze and reaching for his cheek, “and I hope you understand that I know the difference between how you were angry then and what he did and how he spoke to me.” 

“I just had to say it,” He nods, “I would hate it if anything I ever did made you afraid to be honest with me, or made you feel like you’ve been feeling the past few days, I’d never,” 

“Baby,” You cup his cheeks in both hands, holding his eyes so he hears you fully, “I forgive you, and I am not afraid or uncomfortable with you or with Mingi. Not at all.” 

“Good,” He exhales hard, his eyes a little shiny and you press forward to wrap your arms around him and hug him close, his arms closing around your back. 

“If you’re being idiots,” You kiss his chest through the thin fabric of his t-shirt, “I’ll tell you you’re being idiots,” 

He laughs low, the vibration running through your chest, “Good.” 

“And if I’m being an idiot,” You add, “I’m not going to freak out if you get pissed at me or yell at me,” 

“I appreciate that,” He squeezes your shoulders, “but I don’t want to be the guy that yells, that’s not really an alpha stereotype I’ve ever wanted to fit.” 

“Okay,” You nod against him. 

He clears his throat a little roughly and you’re about to pull away but he holds you steady for a moment, “There’s one more thing,” 

Your hand strokes a line down his back, as you hum softly, “Hmm?” 

“I have more to say and to apologize for,” You can feel his heart beating a little faster under your cheek and you stroke his back again, “but I’m still figuring out how to do that, and it might not be fair of me to ask, but I wanted to see if you can be patient with me for that.” 

“Yunho,” You murmur, “what’s going on?” 

“I, uh,” His fingers flex tightly against your skin, “I started seeing someone,”

“Someone?”

“Professionally,” He adds, “Mingi used to and I know it helped. I didn’t think I needed to, but I think we can both agree I am not the best at managing my own emotions here,” 

“Oh,” 

“So,” He breathes, “after our fight, when I finally cooled off and realized what we did I asked him for a referral. I’ve been meeting with her once a week and it’s been helpful, but I’m not ready to apologize to you for the rest of it until I understand why I treated you like that,” 

Emotion fills your chest like a balloon and you nod into him, “Yunho,” 

He clears his throat again, “Sorry,” he says, “this is a little uncomfortable for me to talk about, but I’m working on it,” 

You wriggle out of his arms to find his face again and press up on your tiptoes to catch his mouth, kissing him with as much surety as you can before you lean back, “That means everything to me,” you tell him, “everything. You have all the time in the world from me, okay?” 

“Yeah,” He smiles, “good, okay,” 

“Is it helping?” 

“Definitely,” He nods, “it’s almost like the professionals know what they’re talking about,” 

You smile up at him. 

“I know I mentioned it before,” He adds quickly, “and I won’t press it, but if you do feel like it would be helpful for you too, you can come to me and I can ask my therapist for some numbers for you to call. I’ll even help set up an appointment if you need that,” 

Your chest goes tight at the thought, “I’ll let you know,” 

“Okay,” He smooths a hand up and down your back, “no pressure,” 

“For sure,” You manage. 

His lip quirks up and he presses a long kiss to your forehead as he gives you one more squeeze, “I said I won’t press, don’t panic,” 

“Sorry,” You breathe. 

He makes a noise dismissing that and then steps back, “So,” his eyes are bright again, everything equalizing back to normal with his smile, “you were making tea, can I help?” 

Your shoulders relax, tension bleeding out of you in an instant, “No,” you turn back to the warm kettle, “but can I make you a cup?” 

“Sure,” He pulls two teacups down from the cupboard, “so Woo will be here in an hour?” 

“Mhm,” You tap your phone to light up the screen to check for any other texts.

“Got it,” He nods, “would you feel alright with Mingi and I stepping out for a while?” 

“Out?” 

“I need to run by the studio and check in on things,” He explains, “and we need to get some food in here. I figured we could do that while Wooyoung keeps you company,” 

“Yeah,” Your heart picks up a little at the thought, but you press that feeling down and drop a teabag in each of your cups, “I’ll be just fine,” 

“Good,” He drops another kiss to your hair, keeping his fingers lingering on your skin while you pour hot water into your cups. 

“Do you,” You almost stop the question, but you find the words bubbling out of your mouth before you can second guess, “do you need to leave right away?” 

Yunho smiles wide, taking the kettle from your hands as he shakes his head, “No,”

Your heart eases a little. 

“Let’s have these together,” He nods to the tea and picks up both cups, “we’ll go when Woo gets here,” 

You follow him out into the living room, and he sets the cups down on the table before settling himself into the corner cushions and reaching up for you. It’s easy to take his hand and to melt into the familiar position on his lap, and you let him draw you in close and cuddle you, his arms wrapped securely around you as he nuzzles your cheek with his nose. 

You sigh, resting your hands on his chest and turning your face a little to catch his mouth in a kiss. 

He hums pleasantly against your mouth, “Is it strange to say that I’ll miss you while we’re out?” 

You smile, shaking your head, “No,” 

“Will you miss us?” He pecks your lips again. 

“More than I want to admit,” 

“You know,” Yunho smooths his hands over your body to rest in their familiar homes, one on your thigh and the other curled around your waist, “I hate what happened, and I wish I could take all the bad memories away, but I’m also so glad you’re here with us,” 

“I know what you mean,” You nod. 

“The months we spent apart were terrible,” He confesses, kissing you softly. 

“We’ll have to make up for lost time,” You agree quietly. 

“A proper date,” He smiles, “or a vacation somewhere warm?” 

“Mm,” You hum, thinking of being stretched out on a beach somewhere with your boys on either side of you, “perfect,”

“I’ll think on that,” He runs a hand down your hair and relaxes back into the couch, “you deserve something nice,” 

Twisting on his lap you reach for both of your teacups before settling back into the same, comfortable position, “I think it would just be nice to come over here without having something traumatic happen beforehand,” 

He frowns a little. 

“I’m kidding,” You nudge him softly, “kind of,” 

“I know,” He nods, “still,” 

“Yeah,” You quietly agree, taking the first sip of your tea. 

Yunho takes a sip too, and then hums a short, quick laugh, “This smells like you,” 

“Like me?” 

“The tea,” He takes another sip and nods, “you smell just the same, but sweeter,” 

“Do you like it?” You find yourself asking. 

Yunho’s head cocks slightly to the side, a line between his brows, and then he says, “Have I not made it clear how much I love your scent?” 

Your cheeks heat and he smiles at the way your skin reddens. 

“Sweetheart,” He shifts, pulling you in while still being careful of the tea, pressing warm, lingering kisses over your jaw to the hollow of your ear, “if I could drink you instead, I would.” 

You swallow, heat curling in your belly. 

“Soothing tea,” He murmurs, “sweet honey,” he adds with a kiss, “and the willow is sharp and fresh. You wake me up and calm me down all at the same time,” 

Your pulse quickens, and slowly your head drops to the side, extending the column of your neck to his lips. 

He takes it slow, remembering the way you jerked back in bed a few nights before, and he’s careful not to press too firmly or give you any inclination that he’s going to touch you with anything but his lips. 

“You smell like home,” He murmurs, his hand coming up to cup your head in his wide palm, kissing just a little lower still. 

Your muscles are stiffening up at the feeling of his mouth getting lower towards your exposed gland and your fingers tighten on his shirt where you hold yourself steady. 

“I’ve got you,” He whispers, “stay with me,” 

You nod, just a little, enough to tell him not to stop, “W-what else?” 

He smiles against your throat, “Well,” he kisses again, to punctuate his words, “when you’re happy, really happy or excited, there’s lemon too,” 

Your breath feels staggered, thready, and you focus on the feeling of him and the warmth of the teacups against your thigh. 

“When you want us,” He takes a deep inhale, sighing hot against your skin, “it’s all honey, thick and syrupy. After your heat I smelled that honey here for weeks,” 

You feel a whine building a little in your throat, and you bite down on your lip to keep it buried. Your body feels like it’s fighting itself with every touch of his mouth, hot arousal knots up at his scent mingling with yours and at his words, but the isolated touch alone has you fighting little flashes of a place that isn’t here and isn’t him. 

“I’ve got you,” He repeats, “I love you,” 

The reply settles on the tip of your tongue, but then he presses one last closed-lipped kiss directly over your gland and withdrawals entirely. You blink hard, a shudder running up your spine. 

“Alright?” He checks, smoothing his hand down your hair again. 

You nod, letting your fingers unknot from his shirt while you collect yourself. 

“Hopefully that answers your question,” He clears his throat softly. 

You start to nod, but the sound of the bathroom door opening cuts through the moment and you start, tea spilling over the lip of your cup onto your fingers. 

“It’s Mingi, baby,” He assures you. 

“I know,” You have to tear your eyes off the hallway though. 

His mouth is set in a concerned little line, and you know he’s probably thinking about your conversation in the kitchen again, but he lets it lie and doesn’t push it, just like he promised. 

Mingi appears a moment later, a towel slung around his hips and his shoulders and hair wet from the shower. He smiles widely when he sees you both, “What’s going on in here?” 

Yunho raises up his cup, “Tea,” he smiles, “nothing much,” 

“Mm,” Mingi nods and stretches, “nice,” 

“Will you be ready soon?” Yunho asks, “Wooyoung will be here in a bit,” 

“Yeah, sure,” He confirms and then glances at you, “you’re good with us going out?” 

“I’m good,” You confirm. 

“I’ll stay if it would make you feel better,” Mingi adds, “I can hide in the bedroom and listen to music or something if you want privacy,” 

You love them both so much in this moment you feel like your chest might crack right open on its own, and you shake your head at him with a smile, “No, I have to get comfortable at some point, it might as well be while Woo is here with me,” 

He nods, “Well, we won’t be too far, just call us and we’ll turn around.” 

“Thank you,” You reach up to take his hand and he twines his fingers with yours immediately. 

Yunho shifts, pressing his lips against your shoulder, “Are you and Woo going out anywhere?” 

He’s clearly trying to be subtle, but you hear the anxious note in his voice and it occurs to you that they might be just as nervous leaving you as you are staying here without them. 

You shake your head, “No, just staying here,” 

“That’s good,” Mingi adds a little too quickly, “if you do go out, would you let us know?” 

“I will,” You promise them, “but you don’t have to worry,” 

“It’s in our nature to worry over you,” Yunho sighs, “but I think we’re both trying not to be overbearing about this whole thing,” 

“Trying,” Mingi shrugs, “but also the idea of not knowing where you are feels like it might give me hives,” 

You laugh at the image, easing back into Yunho’s chest. 

“To be clear,” Yunho shoots Mingi a look, “that’s in a nice ‘we care about you’ way, not in a ‘controlling boyfriend’ kind of way,” 

“Relax,” You tell them both, “I get why you want to know, it’s the same reason I want to know where you are.” 

“Studio first,” Mingi offers without you asking and your chest warms, “then groceries, and then I want to swing by that cafe that has that caramel cheesecake you like, then home,” 

“Don’t say we don’t have to,” Yunho adds, “we want to,” 

You smile as he takes the words right out of your mouth. 

“Plus, I want some,” Mingi says with ease. 

You’re not used to this type of relationship yet, having alphas of your own who actually want to be with you and take care of you, who worry for you and feel for you in all the deep nervous ways you feel for them. You hush the nagging voice in your mind that tries to tell you not to show them how much you need them, the voice that doesn’t want you to jump too fast, you already know what you get by listening to that voice. 

Instead you ask them what you want to ask, “How long do you think you’ll be gone?” 

“Two hours,” Yunho offers, “maybe three at the most,” 

“Okay,” You exhale, weight dropping away from your shoulders, “that’s perfect,” 

“We’ll let you know,” Mingi adds, “and if you need anything special while we’re out, we can stop,”

You shake your head, “I’m fine,” You assure them, “a little anxious, but you know, it’s good for me.” 

Mingi smiles warmly, brushing his hand over your cheek and tilting your face up with his thumb and forefinger on your chin, “We’re a phone call away,” 

“I know,” You nod. 

Yunho sighs as Mingi’s hand drops away, and he kisses your shoulder again, “It’s funny,” he says, “I really don’t want to leave you,” 

“We did just spend three months not seeing each other and in a state of constant relationship limbo,” You point out and give him a squeeze, “we really went from nothing to a whole lot of something fast,” 

“Not too fast?” Mingi checks, trying to sound casual. 

“No,” You say, “and even if it is, I don’t care,” 

“We’ve always felt right together,” Yunho adds, “we’re just letting ourselves enjoy it now,” 

He’s never said something so true. 

Mingi gets dressed and collapses onto the couch next to both, pushing closer into your space with Yunho until you’re both practically on his lap, but it works. You stay knit close together until there’s a knock on the door and then it’s fast kisses goodbye and big hugs from your best friend, and before you can really process it you’re without them for the first time in days. 

Your stomach is fluttering, a nervous quiver deep in your gut that you really don’t want Wooyoung to over-analyze. A moment later you find yourself back on the couch in the warm spot Yunho left, wrapping yourself in the blanket you had all shared the night before. You can smell them on it, earthy, warm, and sweet. 

Wooyoung watches as you start to relax, and he takes a seat right next to you to keep close, a closed smile on his lips. 

You can’t believe you miss them already. 

They must miss you too though, because Mingi only makes it a scant ten minutes before he texts you, his message lighting up your phone - Forgot to say I love you - I love you.

“What?” Wooyoung nudges you under the blanket. 

You pass your phone to him and he reads the message, his eyebrows shooting up high, “I leave you alone for a few days and you’re all saying ‘I love you’s?” 

You grab the phone back and tuck it away, “That’s the thing about life changing trauma,” you laugh, “it really accelerates the big feelings,” 

Wooyoung nods, keeping things light, but finds your hand on the back of the couch so he can hold it. 

“Also we’re not all saying it,” You confess, “they’re saying it,” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean they’ve told me,” You explain, “the day after the studio we had this big talk,” 

“Don’t tell me they put all that shit on you like that,” He wraps his hand around yours, “y/n,” 

“Not like that,” You shake your head, “it’s actually hysterical, they thought that Seonghwa and I have been dating,” 

His eyes go wide, “What?” 

“It’s truly the longest story of miscommunication,” You tell him, “at this point I think someone should write a book about me and make it a romantic comedy,” 

“Erotica,” Wooyoung smirks. 

“Shut up,” You swat at him. 

“There have been too many good orgasms for a romcom,” He shrugs. 

You roll your eyes, “Anyways, it turns out the whole not talking period while you were all away was just me pining but feeling like I fucked it up, and them pining but thinking I had moved on with Hwa,” 

“Damn,” 

“But when they realized that they were wrong about that,” You continue, “we just got it all out there,” 

“And they love you,” He smiles a little, “and they actually said it,” 

“Yeah,” You soften into the cushions. 

“I hate to ask the obvious,” He squeezes your hand, “but if you’re so happy about that, why haven’t you told them? You do love them?” 

“So much,” The words fly out like you’re defending something, and you run a hand through your hair as you get your real thoughts steady, “I do, Woo, so much. We’re scent matches,” 

“I know,” He nods warmly. 

“You do?” 

“Anyone with eyes can see that,” Wooyoung smiles, “well, apart from you three.” 

“Thanks,” 

He nudges your thigh with his foot under the blanket, “Honestly, though, after what happened I could see it on them. You couldn’t keep your hands off each other, and they kept flanking you, watching you like you might disappear,” 

A memory of the studio plays like a clip in your mind, the way they held you between them, the three of you against everything. You nod, “They’ve been doing that for days,” 

“Which…” Wooyoung trails off, trying to guess where your head is, “you’re happy about?” 

“I am,” You nod emphatically, “and I love them, I just… I can’t get the fucking words out of my mouth,” 

He sobers a little, sliding closer to you on the couch so he can draw your legs over his lap and give you exactly the kind of comfort you need, “I’m listening, babe, talk to me,” 

“I don’t know why,” You hold his hand tighter, “but every time they say it, and I think I’m going to say it back, I’m right back in that room with Minseok’s teeth on my neck and I can’t,” your chest feels tight, “I can’t get it out,” 

His eyes soften, empathetic in the way that only he can be, “Does being in love with them scare you?” 

“No!” You pull your hand back from his. 

“Babe,” He takes your hand back and holds tight, “I’m not saying they scare you, I’m saying does being in love, being vulnerable like that scare you?” 

Your shoulders drop, “A little, but,”

“But?” 

“I thought about it for three months,” You argue, “I had it rehearsed, I knew exactly what I wanted to say and the big reveal was supposed to be the ‘I love you’ part not the ‘I’m sorry’ part,” 

“Your plans on that kind of fell apart when that asshole tried to claim you,” Wooyoung pushes back a little. 

“Yeah, no shit,” A flurry of anger bubbles in your belly. 

He nods, “And now you’re off kilter,” 

“You could say that,” 

“You rarely do anything without thinking it through,” He offers, this thumb drawing a comforting line over your palm, “and your plan got fucked, and you’re emotionally vulnerable, and traumatized, and stressed. You feel like you’re out here without a life vest,” 

His words stun you silent. 

“And this thing you worked up in your mind for three months is now totally derailed,” He continues, “am I on the money?” 

You nod. 

“Can I ask you something?” He says. 

You nod again. 

Wooyoung asks this question softly, his voice quiet and gentle, “Do you want to bond with them?” 

Your heart thumps in your chest. 

“It’s just you and me,” Wooyoung soothes you, “and whether or not you bond with them is your choice, okay? But, babe, is that something you think you’ll want?” 

Suddenly you remember the feeling of your heat with them. The way you begged for them, the way it felt so right and so sure that you belonged to each other. You remember how your mind spun imaginary futures that all ended the same way. 

Silently, you nod. 

“Loving them isn’t bonding,” He murmurs, “you can just love them for now at your own pace.” 

Tears prick at the back of your eyes, “What if I can never do it? They can barely touch my neck without me falling apart, what if I can never take a real claim?” 

“Oh, babe,” He pulls you towards him, crushing you to his chest, “I wish you called me earlier, you shouldn’t be thinking like this,” 

“It was so terrible,” You confess into his shoulder, “I can’t even tell you, I don’t even know how to explain,” 

“You don’t have to,” He hushes you, a hand stroking up and down your back, “and I don’t know if this is going to help or hurt, but I know right now you feel like there’s no way you’d ever be able to take a claim without it being scary and awful, but someday you might be able to without even thinking of him.”

A few hot tears escape your eyes. 

“And I know I give Yunho and Mingi shit,” He adds, “but you know that both of them would rather die than do something to hurt you or scare you,” 

“And if I can never bond?” You manage. 

“Then I’d say thank god your scent matches are two men who would never, ever push you into a bond you weren’t ready for,” He says, squeezing you tight, “and I think if you asked them, they’d tell you that they’d rather be with you unbonded and happy than bonded and in pain.” 

“You’re right,” You wipe away the wetness on your cheeks, “I know you’re right,” 

“They’re not going to try to push you into a bond just because you love each other,” He lets you lean back but he slides his hand back into yours, “especially not now,” 

“I know that,” You sigh, “rationally, I was just,” 

“I’m telling you, I get it,” He eases you, “sometimes you go through something and you think a part of you is wrecked forever, that you’ll never be able to do something again or feel normal again, but you will. I promise,” 

You know the truth of him so suddenly you can’t stop the words, “Woo,” you feel your heart beating faster, “did something happen?” 

“A long, long time ago,” He says softly, “and today’s not the day for that story, but I’m telling you it does get better and it does soften in your memory and someday your alphas are going to touch your neck and you won’t even think about it, it just won’t be there anymore.” 

Grief and relief mingle in your gut at his words, and you want to ask him more, to be there for him like he’s been there for you but you can see it in his face, today isn’t the day for that story. 

You squeeze his hand, “I love you, Woo,” 

“I love you too,” He assures you. 

Silence sits between you for a moment while you turn over his words, and though you can’t imagine the day he’s describing, you still believe him. You have to. You don’t know what happened to him or when, but you’ve never met someone as bright and open and happy as him, and you have to hold onto that truth. 

You look down at your combined hands, “Yunho offered to make an appointment with a therapist for me,” 

“Say yes,” Wooyoung replies without a thought, “I waited years and I wish I hadn’t,” 

“Yeah?” 

“Does he have a contact?” Wooyoung asks, drawing your eyes back up, “I have some options for you if not,” 

“He said he can ask his therapist for a referral,” 

“His therapist?” Wooyoung grins, “I knew I liked him,” 

“You’ve been friends for years,” You nudge him. 

“Liked him for you,” He corrects, “that’s different,” 

“Yeah, yeah,” 

“My best friend deserves an alpha who is fully therapized and capable of complex emotions,” Wooyoung says with confidence, “nothing less.” 

“Don’t mention that I told you,” You add quickly, “he told me that in confidence, it just slipped out,” 

“I wouldn’t,” Wooyoung shakes his head, “that’s private. But between you and me, I’m glad to hear it.” 

“Me too,” You sigh. 

“And as far as you going?” Wooyoung circles back to the real question at hand, “Say yes, the sooner the better. If Yunho’s offering to help set it up, let him. Making that call is hard, and if he can make it easier, just say yes.” 

“Okay,” You sigh, your shoulders dropping. 

“And tell them how you’re feeling about bonding,” He adds, “trust me.” 

“Maybe,” You say, “I know you’re right. We’re just moving so fast,” 

“So slow down,” He offers. 

“I don’t know if I want to,” You admit, warmth and nervous energy filling your chest, “it feels right like this, I just don’t know if I can handle a claim,” 

“Tell them,” He reiterates, “don’t let them stumble into that one, they might hurt you without even knowing it if they bring it up sooner than you’re ready for.” 

“Right,” You nod, “you’re right,” 

He huffs a laugh, “Usually am,”

You flick his arm, rolling your eyes, so grateful at him for helping you work through something this hard while still keeping you smiling. You should have called him earlier, he’s right about that too. 

You let silence stretch around you both for a moment, and then something occurs to you. 

“Do you know anything about the charges Minseok is filing?” You run a hand through your hair, “Not to bring up yet another pleasant subject,” 

Wooyoung snorts a little air through his nose and shrugs, “I probably know what you know, have you talked to Hwa?” 

You shake your head. 

“At all?” He seems surprised. 

“I have,” You correct, “but it was quick and we were all on the call. I haven’t been to my place to see if there’s any mail, but I’d guess Yunho and Mingi will get a summons soon.” 

Wooyoung nods, “That’s what the police said,” 

Your eyebrows raise, “You talked to the police?” 

“Seonghwa did,” He clarifies, “and he gave San and I the run down.” 

“Why is no one telling me what’s going on?” You exhale heavily. 

“Because last we heard you were having nightmares,” Wooyoung rests a hand on your folded legs, “and we don’t have a lot of information to give, and I don’t think any of us want to cause you more stress than you need.” 

“Do Yunho and Mingi know?” You press. 

“Not exactly,” Wooyoung says, “though, I guess Seonghwa might be telling them now if they stopped by the studio,” 

You wait for him to continue, but you’re a little relieved at least that your boys aren’t keeping anything from you directly. 

“Seonghwa spoke to the police who explained the charges. Minseok is alleging that the guys misunderstood what they saw and ignored his attempts to explain, and that they used unnecessary force intervening on your behalf.” He says it plainly. 

“Misunderstood?” You repeat the word. 

“I know,” Wooyoung nods, “we all know, but that’s what he’s saying. The police advised Seonghwa to get an attorney and let him know that further charges were being filed. I think we can safely assume that’s Yunho and Mingi, maybe San if he’s really going after it.” 

“Maybe me too,” You add. 

“Maybe,” He nods, “but that would be tough to prove I think,” 

“Hmm,” Your eyes feel a little unfocused. 

“Hey,” Wooyoung gets your attention with a squeeze, “we don’t know anything yet, and we thought this might happen. It doesn’t change the truth and it doesn’t mean any of them regret what they did to make sure you were safe, okay?” 

“Yeah,” 

“Tell me you understand,” He presses, “because I’m not letting you put this one on yourself,” 

“I do, I understand,” You nod, “it just sucks,”

“That’s fair,” He gives you a soft smile, “but it’s going to take a lot more than this to fuck us over,” 

“Yeah,” You murmur, “you’re probably right.” 

Wooyoung says something else but you hardly hear it, in the back of your mind all you can think of is that first night at the hospital. The detectives who interviewed you were kind, but bordered on dismissive, and you know Minseok and his family have deeper pockets than you do. You have to figure this out, you have to.

  “Babe?” Wooyoung nudges you. 

“Yeah,” You snap up, coming back to the present moment and letting those anxieties fade into the background until you can really think them through, “sorry,” 

“It’s okay,” He soothes you. 

Your phone buzzes on your lap again and you pull it up to see the message. It’s Mingi again - Budae Jjigae for dinner, ask Wooyoung if he wants to stay? We’ll have plenty

It’s like he felt your anxiety from miles away and you can feel the tense knot of your shoulders unlocking. You send back a quick heart emoji and then look back up to your friend, “You want to stay for dinner?” 

He smiles, “Who’s cooking?” 

“Mingi,” You tell him, “he’s been on a comfort food kick for me,” 

Wooyoung smiles, “I’ll stay,” 

“Great,” You tap out a reply to Mingi letting him know and take a big sigh. 

“They make you happy,” Wooyoung says, “it’s nice to see,” 

“It’s nice to feel,” You tell him, “after all this time, and after everything,” 

“You deserve it,” He murmurs. 

You smile, a little tease at the corner of your mouth when you nudge him, “So do you, and speaking of,” 

His face lights up fast, “I wasn’t trying to bring my too-good mood over here if things weren’t going well,” he sighs, “but now that I know you’re all in love,” 

“So you and Yeosang?” You turn the conversation to something so much happier, and feel lighter the second you do. 

“It’s so good,” He gushes, head falling back against the cushions, “he’s kind of quiet, kind of hard to get to know at first, but y/n, he’s so funny,” 

“Yeah?” You smile. 

“And smart,” He adds, “and considerate, he’s always getting me coffees or refilling my water, just like, those little things,” 

“Wow, look at you,” You squeeze his hand, “serial dater of alphas, turned into a blushy mess over a funny, smart, considerate beta,” 

“He’s packing like an alpha, I’ll say that,” Wooyoung grins wolfishly. 

You smack his chest, “Woo! Literally that is too much information,” 

“Please,” He rolls his eyes, “I share a locker room with your boyfriends, I know what you’re working with,” 

You feel your face flush red. 

“Cute,” He teases. 

“So,” You divert, “does Yeosang feel as strongly?” 

His smile drops a little, “I mean,” he says, “I think so? But he’s not really an oversharer,” 

“Have you told anyone else?” You try to be casual about that question, but if you’re being honest you’re dying to know where things will land with San and Seonghwa. 

Wooyoung shakes his head though, “Not yet, but I think when everything calms down I might have him pick me up at the studio or something? I want you to meet him and I want everyone to know, I just,” 

“I get it,” You assure him, “you go at your own pace.” 

“Yeah,” He sighs. 

“Just don’t follow my lead,” You smile, “if you like him, don’t run away in a panic,” 

“Noted,” He laughs. 

He looks so happy, bright from the inside in a way that matches his sunny scent, and you think he’s not far from sharing ‘I love you’s of his own at this rate. 

You squeeze his hand again and catch his attention back, “You really look so happy,” you tell him. 

“I am,” He sighs, “he’s exactly what I needed,” 

You smile, and then push his legs to the side, “Move over, I know you have pictures, you’re holding out,” 

He laughs sharply, head falling back but letting you manhandle him a little so you can snuggle into his side. Wooyoung tugs the blanket around you both and pulls out his phone, “Fine,” 

“Like it’s a burden to show your best friend pictures of your hot new boyfriend,” You smack his chest, “come on,” 

Wooyoung drops his arm around your shoulders until you’re slotted together on the corner of the couch, but he still hasn’t lit up his phone. You’re about to nudge him again, but then you feel him press a soft kiss to your hair. 

“You know,” He says softly, “when Sannie called me and told me what happened, I just felt so sick,” 

You find his other hand under the covers and lace your fingers together, “I’m okay,” 

He nods, sighing into your skin, “I just want you to know,” he says, his voice a little tight, “you mean so much to me, and I’ll be grateful to them forever for stopping him,” 

You blink back a few tears and nod, “I am okay, though,” 

He nods again and clears his throat, “I know,” 

“I think you’re avoiding my questions about Yeosang,” You squeeze his hand tightly, an acknowledgement of his emotions and his words, while steering the conversation back to happier topics. 

“You’re right,” He laughs, “you caught me.” 

“Come on,” You nudge him again, pushing down the little swell of emotion that his words brought up. 

“He’s not really a selfie guy,” Wooyoung slides his finger across his phone screen until he finds Instagram and then navigates to his new man’s page, “but, I don’t know, I think you’ll like his vibe.” 

Your face cracks into a wide smile when you see the profile, clearly that of an artist, a photographer. The first post on his page is of Wooyoung, though you’d have to know Wooyoung well to know it. He’s walking away from camera through a dark Itaewon street, the lines of his body accented by the neon club signs. 

“Oh, Woo,” You relax against him and open that photo to see it larger, “he really likes you,” 

He snatches the phone away, a little pink in his cheeks as he rushes to downplay the truth of what you can see plain as day, and you fight to get back the phone, your cheeks starting to hurt from how much you’ve been laughing. 

You and Wooyoung stay like this for ages, warmly locked together as you swap stories and funny things on both your phones. By the time your phone chimes with another text from Mingi, at least two hours have gone by.

Almost home! His message reads. 

Your chest feels warm, your heart whole at the words. 

“They’ll be back in a minute,” You tell Wooyoung as you set your phone aside. 

“Perfect,” He grins, “so exactly how much teasing can I get away with before you get mad?” 

You fall apart again into laughter, happy tears stinging at your eyes. You don’t hear the front door open at first, but when you finally look up you see them standing frozen in the doorway with such softness in their expressions. You feel the words bubble up at the sight of them, but again they stay resting at the tip of your tongue.

Wooyoung rolls his eyes and pushes off the couch, “Alright, alright stop making heart eyes at each other and tell me what’s in the box,” 

Your eyes flick down to the large white box in Mingi’s hand, the perfect cheesecake nestled inside waiting just for you. Wooyoung takes a few grocery bags out of their hands and heads off to the kitchen, and just like that your night falls together naturally. 

You don’t think about Minseok again until later that night. For a beautiful, blissful four hours you just laughed and ate and relaxed with your best friend and your boyfriends, and he doesn’t enter your brain at all. 

It isn’t until you’re lying in bed alone with your thoughts, Yunho and Mingi deep asleep on either side of you, that you realize what you have to do. 

In the morning you wake from a dreamless sleep, and you start to put your plan in motion. You slip out of bed and leave them to their rest, light only just stretching its way through the Seoul skies outside. Seeing Wooyoung made you feel lighter in a way that you can’t explain, and within minutes you’re scrawling out a note, stealing Mingi’s key, and lacing up your sneakers. 

Out for a walk, be back in a little while, don’t worry too much x

You leave it on their kitchen counter and you hope it’s enough to keep them from looking for you. You need a little space from your own scared reflection in the mirror, and a new perspective on the plan you’ve been turning over since your head hit the pillows last night. 

The note isn’t a lie, strictly speaking, you are out for a walk, but you also know if you told them exactly where you were on a walk to, they'd worry. They wouldn’t just worry, they would have insisted on coming with you, but this is something you have to do alone. 

You take the long way to the hospital down the river path, letting the cool day calm your mind and keep you centered. You go over in your mind all the things you want to say to him when you see him, assuming you actually make it into his room. You wonder how hard it will be to convince him. You wonder if you’ll even be able to get a single word out of your mouth. 

You have to try. 

Yunho’s words from yesterday morning in the kitchen sink into you. The tenderness in his eyes when he mentioned how jumpy you’ve been around the apartment. You hadn’t even realized it, but now you feel it in your shoulders and your stomach with the sound of every opening door, every squeak of a shoe on vinyl flooring. Everytime you look up into a mirror you expect to see a face over your shoulder, to feel hands on your hips.  

Minseok had taken so many little things from you in the span of three minutes. 

You need to take something back. 

Every step leading into the hospital is heart pounding and nerve wracking, stress inducing on a level you’ve never experienced, but standing in front of reception you suddenly feel an overwhelming calm. Your mind is clear, operating on something wholly unconscious and you don’t know where you’ve mustered this feeling from, but you let it take you. 

You give over Minseok’s full name and provide the kindest smile you can to the woman behind the desk,“I’m his sister,” you tell her. The lie rolls right off your tongue, so clean and easy you surprise yourself. 

“Oh,” The nurse nods, “well visiting hours don’t start until eleven,” 

“I have work,” You counter, softening your face, “I’m sorry, but do you think you could make an exception? I’ll be very quick, I just want to see him for a few minutes before I have to run,” 

She considers it, and you know you have her the minute she checks the nurse’s station to see who else is there with her before she breaks a rule, “Alright, but just be quick, five minutes,” 

“Thank you so much,” You smile, “really, you’re so kind,” 

She waves you off, glancing around her again, “He’s in 305, the third door down on your left when I open the doors,” 

“Thank you,” 

She presses a button on the wall and the lock springs free, opening the heavy security door to your side. With one last smile and deeply grateful bow, you slip through the door and make it through into the hospital hallway where you are most definitely not supposed to be. 

Third door on the left. 

You have to be quick, not so you don’t get caught, but so you don’t chicken out. If you stand in this hallway and let yourself really think about what you’re doing, you’ll turn right around and go home. Steeling yourself, you rush forwards and find the door to 305 and with a deep breath you slip inside. 

Private rooms are expensive, that thought occurs to you as you shut the door tightly behind you. That fact, plus the reality that he’s already talking about pressing his own charges, tells you Seonghwa was right, he has some kind of family money. You hope that when you turn around and actually face the room you won’t have to contend with his mother or father or god forbid some girlfriend you know nothing about. You need him to be alone. 

Blissfully, the room is quiet, the only sounds are medical and simple. With your palms flat against the door you take a deep breath, and if Minseok is awake he says nothing, makes no sound, while you gather the nerve to do this. 

Finally, you turn. 

He is awake, studying you with a careful expression, but then your eyes flick over him. He’s more than injured, he’s completely incapacitated. You catalog it all quickly - his leg suspended in an elevating sling, ankle wrapped up tight, wrist sprained and in a brace, his face is bruised and battered and you realize in seconds that his broken jaw is wired shut. He has an oxygen cannula tucked into his bandaged nose, and you remember that his ribs are broken too. 

You wonder which of your boys delivered each piece of punishment. 

Your mouth feels dry, and your pulse is quickening, the sight of him so close is enough to induce panic but he can’t really do anything to you in this state so you have to just be brave. You push yourself off the wall and walk to the end of his hospital bed, “Hey,” 

He gestures to his jaw and shrugs to communicate that he can’t really talk. 

“I know,” You nod, “I heard.” 

It’s strange to be here with him like this when last week you were working side by side. It’s bizarre to suddenly feel this bubble of uncomfortable space and distance, and to feel the fear underneath it all. 

He gestures towards you with his bandaged hand and you know he’s asking why you’re here. 

“I heard about the counter charges,” You came here with a purpose and you have to stick to it, “and I came here to ask you to drop them.” 

He shakes his head and looks down at himself and then back up to you. 

“After what you did?” Anger curls up in your belly, “I think they took it pretty easy on you.” 

He huffs, a puff of air from his closed lips. 

“Listen,” You try, “you and I both know what you tried to do, and whatever your excuse is, it doesn’t matter. If they hadn’t gotten you off me… I guess what I’m saying is do the right thing now. You said you were sorry, just drop these charges and we can all move on.” 

His eyes harden and he shakes his head. 

You thought he was apologetic after, coming to his senses and realizing in the haze of his rut he almost broke someone’s mind, but now you’re starting to think he was just pleading for his own beating to stop. 

“You won’t consider it?” You ask, stomach clenching tightly. 

He shakes his head again and points to his injuries. Jaw, ribs, leg. 

You want to hit him yourself, so suddenly that your fingers curl tight into fists, “You tried to fucking claim me because I wouldn’t go out on a date with you, and you think you’re the victim here?” 

He seems irritated by your question, and he reaches for something on the tray table to his side. He pulls up a small whiteboard and marker, clearly given to him by hospital staff to communicate, and he wipes away the words that were there to write out his message to you. 

I’m the one in a hospital bed.

“You bastard,” The words just slip out, “why do you think? They put you here for a fucking reason, Minseok,” 

He wipes the message away and writes something else. 

Keep your alphas on a leash.

You’ve never understood the phrase ‘seeing red’ before, but now it’s meaning is crystal clear, “You should keep yourself on a leash.” 

He huffs. 

“Using tone to submit an omega is illegal, Minseok,” You round the corner of the bed, “the prison time for something like that is long. It’s not even just assault, I think that’s something like three or four years? But using tone… claiming against an omega’s will? That’s irreparable damage. I wonder how many charges they’d stack on top in court? Psychological trauma? Sexual assault?” 

His eyes darken and he wipes the board again, his marker squeaking roughly against it as he angrily writes out the next message. 

I never touched you like that.

“You would have,” You shake your head, “as soon as I was your nice obedient omega and couldn’t say no.” 

He stares daggers, but says nothing. 

“They might be able to prove intent,” You tell him, “throw a few more years on top for good measure. How old do you think you’ll be when they let you out? Do you think a dance studio would hire a forty year old man?” 

His face pales, he looks sick suddenly. 

“You’ll drop the charges,” You tell him, “and when you do, I’ll drop mine.” 

His eyes widen. 

“You’ll never set foot in the studio again, and you’ll go find another job somewhere else.” 

His eyes skim over you, trying to gauge your honesty. 

“Do you understand me?” You don’t know what’s possessing you, what’s holding you up so you can get these words out, but you’ve never felt more sure. 

He says nothing. 

You lean in closer, close enough that if he was uninjured he could easily have you back in control, but with his jaw wired shut and his lack of mobility, he can’t do a thing. Nerves flutter up your body as you lean in, and you’re sure he can smell Yunho and Mingi on you, but the guarantee that he can’t touch you is filling you with a sick sense of power, of sure joy. 

“You tried and you failed,” You tell him, and he huffs, “and that’s on you.”

His cheek twitches and you’re sure he’d be clenching his jaw if he could do it without exceptional pain. 

“You’ll do this for me, you owe me,” You hold his gaze despite the flutter of fear it brings you, “and if you don’t, I don’t care what it takes. I’ll see you in court and if that doesn’t work, I’ll make sure that you never, ever get hired again. Every studio in Korea will know what you did, and every omega in Seoul will know what you really are, and if you ever get close to me again after today I’ll break your jaw myself.” 

His eyes flick down. 

“Do you understand me?” You repeat, enunciating clearly. 

He nods once. 

“Good,” You push back from him and get some distance, “get the charges against all of them dropped by tomorrow and I’ll call and withdraw mine. Don’t ever come back to the studio, if you left stuff there consider it gone.” 

He holds your gaze, and then he writes out a question - How do I know you’ll keep your word? 

“You don’t,” You shrug, “but I promise you I wouldn’t be here in this room with you at all if I wasn’t willing to drop them.” 

He turns your words over. 

“Minseok,” You sigh, “they mean more to me than watching you go to jail, please, just do the right thing.” 

He wipes his hand again across the whiteboard and then he shifts, looking back up to you to nod in agreement. 

“You’ll do it?” 

He nods again and then picks the marker back up to write something. 

“Don’t,” You stop him, “there’s nothing you can say I want to hear. Just do this and we’ll be done.” 

He looks away and without meeting your eyes again, he nods.

“Don’t make me come back,” You press him, but he doesn’t respond and that will have to be enough. You’ve done what you came to do. 

You’re out of his room in a flash, back through the security doors and quick past the front desk. You don’t spare a single glance at the nurse who broke the rules for you, you just need to get out of here before you let the reality of what you’ve done hit you sideways. You don’t let a single thing consume you until you’re out of the hospital and on the street again, and you sink down onto the first available bench. 

Your heart is pounding, hands trembling. You need to get this under control before you go home because the last thing you want is to cause Yunho and Mingi anymore stress or heartache. You give yourself some time to come back into your body, to forget the hard set of Minseok’s eyes and the way his fingers twitched when you got too close, the way you fought the curling panic in your gut to get the words out. 

When you do feel whole again, you order a taxi back. You’ve been gone a while, probably a little longer than they expected, and you hope they’re not worried.

Using Mingi’s borrowed key, you slip into the apartment and let their scents wash over you, soothing you instantly. You shut the door quietly behind you and toe off your shoes before calling out, “Is anyone home?” 

You hear movement immediately, Mingi from the kitchen and Yunho from his bedroom and it fills you with warmth. 

“Hey,” Mingi gets to the living room first, “how was your walk?” 

“Really good,” You tell him, and that’s the truth. The walk itself was nice until you cut it short with your little errand. 

“You look good,” He smiles, and Yunho appears from his side of the apartment as Mingi continues, “fresher,” 

“Yeah,” You sigh, “it’s a beautiful morning out,” 

“Hey,” Yunho says, smiling at the sight of you. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t wake you,” You say, “I just wanted to clear my head a bit, so I hope you don’t mind that I borrowed your key,” 

Mingi shakes his head as you hang his keyring up by the door. 

“We’ll have to get one made for you,” Yunho says, “if you want,” 

You let the implication of that lie and you nod, but excitement sparks in your belly.

“Is there any coffee?” You ask, moving into the apartment and heading towards the kitchen. You need to tell them where you’ve been, but you just need a breath before you can. 

“Mhm,” Mingi says, “I just made a cup,” 

“Oh,” You shake your head, “I don’t want to take yours, I’ll make my own.” 

“No, no,” He slides behind you and presses a kiss to your hair as he does, “take it, I’ll make another. Yunho, do you want one?” 

“I’m good,” He replies, coming to stand next to you at the small kitchen island. 

Mingi looks like he’s thinking about something as he finishes off your cup of coffee and throws an electric kettle back on to make another pourover, but Yunho draws your attention away. 

“Jagi,” He starts, “I don’t mean to… well, can we talk to you about something?” 

“Sure,” You angle towards him, his words making you a little nervous, “is everything okay?” 

“Absolutely,” He assures you, brushing his hand down the length of your arm, “but Mingi and I were talking while you were gone, about how to handle everything with these charges,” 

“Oh,” His timing is impeccable. 

“We just want to include you,” He says, squeezing your hand, “and make sure we’re handling things the way we should, but it might be smart to try and hire a lawyer before this goes any further,” 

You’re not sure how you’re supposed to say this. 

“We talked to Seonghwa and he agrees,” Yunho continues, “this will be the easiest way to protect all of us,”

“Yunho,” You start, “hang on,”

“If this is upsetting we can talk about it later,” Yunho adds, “but Seonghwa has some connections through his parents, he wants to make some calls.” 

Your stomach twists at the idea of Seonghwa needing to lean on a favor from his parents, and every choice you made that morning becomes perfectly validated with just that thought. You would never, ever let him do that, not after everything he’s done for you.  

“It’s not upsetting,” You assure Yunho, trying to interject, “I just don’t think that will be necessary,” 

“Getting a lawyer?” He clarifies. 

“Yeah,” You swallow hard and glance at Mingi, “I don’t think we’ll need to.” 

“I mean, having representation would be best,” Yunho says, “I know it’s stressful, but we need to be careful,” 

“Right,” You sigh, needing him to give you a breath to explain, “that’s if there’s a suit,” 

“Well sure, but,” Yunho starts but the penny drops for Mingi. 

“Tell me you didn’t,” Mingi turns to you fully and the words die on Yunho’s lips as he plays catch up. 

You stay quiet, holding his gaze, but when you let out a soft breath he sets his coffee back down. 

“y/n,” Mingi says, voice serious and leaving Yunho visibly more and more confused, “tell me you didn’t do what I think you did.” 

“I took care of it,” You settle on the most neutral words you can. 

“No,” He shakes his head, “you can’t just say that, you have to give us more than that.” 

“I was planning on it,” You push past Yunho to approach Mingi, resting your hands on his upper arms as you get closer into his space, “I swear, you just guessed it too fast,” 

“You smell like the hospital,” He explains, his nose crinkled up. 

“Whoa, whoa,” Yunho finally catches up, “why were you at the hospital?”

You just have to say it, “I talked to Minseok,” 

“Absolutely not,” Yunho pushes around the island and closer to you, “are you insane?” 

“He’s completely incapacitated,” You tell them both, “he couldn’t have touched me even if he wanted to,” 

“Yes, but you didn’t know that!” Yunho presses, his voice running high in surprise, but you can see he’s doing his best to keep level and cool. 

“Look at me,” You settle him, “do I look hurt? Upset?”

“No,” He admits with a puff of dejected air. 

“Am I myself?” You take both their hands in yours. 

“Yes,” Mingi admits. 

“Okay,” You sigh, “now stop freaking out and listen to me, because I promise you I’m perfectly fine,” 

Mingi nods once, and Yunho stays silent, which is enough for you to do what you need to do. 

“I went there to talk him out of the charges he’s filing,” You explain, “and I guess… I just wanted to understand what he did, so I wanted to talk to him.” 

“And?” Yunho prompts. 

“He’s an asshole,” You start. 

“Did he touch you?” Mingi asks, his voice a little tight and thready, “Say anything to you?” 

“No,” You promise, tugging him closer until his hands are properly on you, “come here,” 

“You can tell us if he did,” Yunho’s fingertips stroke a gentle pattern over the back of your neck, “we’re not angry, we just want to help,” 

“Speak for yourself, I still want to kill him,” Mingi says sharply. 

“Hey,” Yunho nudges him, “chill,” 

“Both of you relax,” You interject and they fall silent, “he didn’t do anything, he couldn’t even talk, his jaw is fully wired shut,” 

Yunho huffs a laugh, “Good,” 

You smile, “Honestly, he looked pretty pathetic,” 

“He is pretty pathetic,” Mingi points out. 

“Right,” You sigh, “well, aside from some choice words written out on a whiteboard, he didn’t have much to say or do. I explained that if he didn’t drop his charges things would be much worse for him in the long run… and he saw reason.” 

“He agreed to that?” Mingi’s eyes go wide. 

“Mhm,” 

“Why?” Yunho’s brows draw together, “Not out of the goodness of his heart, I assume,” 

“No,” You shake your head, “but when I tell you, I need you both to promise me you won’t be angry.” 

“That’s unfair,” Yunho says. 

“Just say it,” Mingi nods, “we won’t know until we know.” 

You chew the inside of your lip as you search for the right way to say this, and you know they’ll be upset no matter what, but they deserve honesty. You nod, “I agreed to drop my charges if he drops his,” 

They’re silent, deathly silent. 

“y/n,” Yunho swallows tightly as he gets his voice even, “why would you do that?” 

“He didn’t want to listen to me at first,” You explain, “and I thought it through on the walk. That’s the only piece of leverage we have right now,” 

“But he did something wrong, he should be held accountable,” Mingi exclaims, taking a full step away from you and running a hand through his hair. 

“You heard the questions the police asked me,” You interject, “how close was I to my next heat? Did I know Minseok was in pre-rut? Why did I stay in the room if he was making me uncomfortable? What was I wearing?” 

“But it wasn’t your fault,” Yunho insists, “he used tone, that’s fucking illegal,” 

“I said he used tone,” You counter quietly, “but he’ll say he didn’t and he’ll say I got confused or misunderstood. He’ll use our relationship against you both, and my relationship with Seonghwa to paint… a very particular kind of picture about me. We all know what he did but I’m telling you, legally? We’re on the losing side,” 

“But,” Mingi shakes his head, “that’s…” 

“I know,” You nod, “believe me, I know.” 

“You should have taken us with you,” Yunho says quietly, “we could have talked to him for you,” 

You shake your head, “No,” you need them to understand, “you got to hit him… you got to do something, I didn’t get to do anything but be fucking scared,”

His expression softens, “Oh,” 

“You protected me when I needed you,” You feel tears welling up now at the thought of it, “it’s my turn to protect you,” 

They’re so quiet, watching you carefully. 

“Nothing is taking you away from me again,” You say it, plain and clear, “nothing is taking away you or my friends, I won’t let that happen,” 

Mingi’s arms fold around you fast as he tucks you into his chest and you feel Yunho step close too, laying a warm palm on your back as he leans into you both. 

“Whatever you want, we’ll do it,” Mingi murmurs, “okay?” 

You nod, closing your eyes as you snuggle into the warmth of him. 

“And we’ll handle it together,” Yunho says, “but don’t make this decision for us, make it for you. We,” Yunho’s voice trails, but then he clears his throat and says what he wants to say anyways, “we love you. No matter what happens,” 

“I know,” You sigh, snaking an arm out of Mingi’s hold to find Yunho’s hand and tuck him a little closer too, “but I’m sure,” 

“I hate to state the obvious here,” Mingi pulls back from you so he can look at you both, “but if he’s not charged with anything, then he’s a free man.” 

That thought does make your stomach flip, but you knew that when you walked into the hospital room, “I know,” 

“It’s your choice,” Mingi reiterates, “but I still don’t know if I’m comfortable taking that kind of risk with you.” 

“I don’t even want to think about that,” Yunho says, his hands finding your shoulders as he tucks closer behind you. 

The image of Minseok’s face when you asked about his dance career flickers through your mind and you smile, “I think he got the picture,” 

“y/n,” Mingi’s voice is hesitant. 

“I told him in no uncertain terms,” You can’t get the smile off your face now, “that if he came anywhere near me again I’d break his jaw myself.” 

“You didn’t,” Yunho looks down to see your face. 

“I did,” You nod, “and before you freak out again, please remember that I’m here and totally fine in front of you,” 

Mingi gives you a truly withering look but lets you speak. 

“Honestly,” You breathe, “you should have seen him, he was lying there and could barely move, and when he didn’t want to drop the charges at first, I kind of got in his face,” 

Yunho’s hands tighten on your shoulders and Mingi scrubs a hand over his face, “Don’t tell me that,” 

“But I did,” You press your palms flat against Mingi’s chest, “I told him that if he didn’t drop his charges he would never get rid of me, I told him I’d make his life hell, and he couldn’t even move. He couldn’t touch me,” 

Mingi’s quiet, his eyes flicking up to Yunho behind you. Yunho sighs, dropping his forehead to rest against your hair and then his arms relax, wrapping around you from behind. 

“I really hate this story,” Yunho says, “but I’m also really proud of you,” 

“Me too,” Mingi’s hand closes over both of yours to give you a squeeze. 

“I just wish you had told us,” Yunho admits. 

“If I had told you I was going there you would have never let me go alone,” You point out. 

“Exactly,” Yunho’s arms tighten. 

You turn your head to press your lips to his arm where it wraps around your shoulder, and you nuzzle a little into his warm skin, “You know why I had to go though, right? You get it?” 

He nods against your head. 

Mingi smooths his hand up and down your forearm, “We do,” 

“I just hate the thought of him seeing you again,” Yunho admits, lifting his head and readjusting you in his arms, “or being close to you at all,” 

“I know,” You lean back into his embrace, “but this is the thing, he got to see me be fine after what he did,” 

“And you got to see him,” Mingi puts two and two together with ease and nods, “and he looked pathetic?” 

“More than that,” You smile, “he looked… afraid.” 

“Good,” Mingi says firmly. 

You remember the way he looked in that hospital bed, his eyes darting around the room. He shrank back when you got close, no doubt the scent of Yunho and Mingi lingering on your skin, and you smile up at them at the thought, “He was terrified my alphas were with me,”

Yunho’s lips quirk and he leans around you to meet your eyes, “He wasn’t afraid of us, sweetheart, he was afraid of you.” 

“No,” You laugh that off, but they don’t join in and Mingi makes a funny expression at your words. 

Yunho slides away, shoulder to shoulder with Mingi now as he looks down at you, “Yes, y/n,” he shakes his head, “he was vulnerable and alone and stuck in a hospital bed, and you’re…” 

“A powerful fucking omega,” Mingi supplies. 

Yunho nods, “And he knows that you could ruin the rest of his life.” 

You don’t know what to say. 

“y/n,” Mingi sighs, tugging you in until your bodies are close together, “if you ever do something that reckless again, I’ll lose my mind,”

You move to lift your head and push back, to keep trying to get him to understand why this was so important for you to do alone and why you made the choices you made, but he stops you short. 

“But,” He adds, kissing the top of your head, “it was also very brave, and I love you for it.” 

“Yeah?” You nudge him. 

“Yeah,” He admits. 

“I do wish I could have seen it,” Yunho grins, “that asshole scared of you,” 

Mingi’s hands slide to your hips, tightening their grip and he swallows hard, “Our fierce little omega,” 

A ripple of something needy and unexpected passes through your belly, “Is that what I am?” 

Yunho steps closer, finding a home for his hands on your body too, “You called us your alphas,” he says softly, “isn’t that what we are?” 

Mingi’s thumbs brush a warm steady pattern into your hips and you feel yourself melting into their hands, “Yes,” 

“That makes you our omega, sweetheart,” Yunho eyes flick from yours to your lips. 

The way they say omega to you doesn’t sound cold. It doesn’t sound cruel or commanding, no undertone of ownership despite the content of their words. When they say it all you hear is love. 

“Say that again,” You murmur softly. 

Mingi smiles, lifting his eyes to watch you.  

Yunho dips closer, his lips dangerously close, “Our omega?” 

You nod a little, heat flushing your cheeks. 

“Our omega,” He repeats, pressing his lips to yours. He waits to make sure you want it, he waits to feel you twist in their arms and reach up for him, and then he lets his body follow his thoughts, lips opening and his tongue dipping into your mouth. 

Mingi’s hand shifts, spreading wide over your lower belly, his fingertips at the waistband of your pants. You’re not ready for that, and you hope he doesn’t notice the way you twitched in his hands when he first adjusted his grip, but either way he makes no move to take anything further. Neither of them do. Despite Yunho’s lips on yours, and the breath between you both, his hands stay put on your back and your cheek while Mingi just holds you, patient and soft at your side. 

When your lips break from Yunho, settling back down your heels after pushing up on tiptoe, Mingi uses his grip on you to spin you to face him, his mouth finding yours with ease. 

You hum pleasantly against his mouth, your hands gripping his broad shoulders for balance. 

“Ours,” Mingi murmurs between kisses, and then his hands spread to your backside, maneuvering you up into his arms in one quick motion, “you’re ours,” 

You wrap your legs around his middle and sink into the kiss, “I’m yours,” 

“Fuck, I missed you,” He mumbles between kisses, nuzzling your cheek with his nose. 

You nod against him, stealing one more kiss before you lean back, still perched comfortably with your legs around his waist. You smooth a hand over Mingi’s cheek and then reach for your other lover to bring him close, drawing him in by the hand until he’s nestled against both of your sides. Yunho’s hand reaches around to cup under your thigh and you settle your own hand on the back of Yunho’s neck, fingers stroking the shaggy bottom of his dark hair.

“This is nice,” Mingi smiles a little, eyes flicking between you and Yunho. 

Yunho nods, his free hand settling on Mingi’s back. 

“I can’t believe I convinced myself that we weren’t scent sympathetic,” You sigh a small, unfunny laugh, “this just feels so right,” 

“Knowing it and knowing it are two different things,” Mingi says, emphasizing the word. 

“I guess so,” 

“And it’s not like all scent matches work out,” Yunho adds, “we still have to work at it,” 

You nod, relaxing into their hold, “I want that,” 

“We do too,” Mingi squeezes your thigh a little with his wide hand. 

It’s funny how different it all feels now than months ago during your first panicked heat here, how settled you are with everything. You glance between them and ask the obvious, “When we go back to work, what are we this time?” 

“Pack,” Mingi says easily and your head snaps to his, eyebrows high. 

“Mingi,” You blink at him, surprised at his easy reference to such a permanent state of being. Scent matches and compatibility is one thing, but pack is something so much more. All of it flickers in your mind - claims, bonds, tying you together permanently. 

“Someday,” Yunho interjects smoothly, giving you a soft, reassuring kiss to the head, “far in the future, if you’ll have us.” 

“Someday,” The word slips out of you like an agreement, and despite all the fears shared with Wooyoung earlier, you do want them like that. You want to someday be able to give each other that.  

“Then we’re pack,” Mingi lights up at your words, “officially, unofficially, I don’t care. You’re with us, we’re with you.” 

Your body fills with warmth, but you can feel your heart rate picking up. 

Yunho smiles, “What did they used to call that back in the day?” 

“Courting,” You fill in the blank for him, and the word feels strangely old fashioned considering the fact that you’ve already spent a heat with them. When packs were more common, groups of alphas would court compatible omegas until it was sure they were a good match in more ways than just scent. The implication then was something more akin to a modern engagement and you can’t believe after everything you’ve been through with these two men, this is the conversation you’re having suddenly so casually in their kitchen. 

“Well,” Yunho laughs, “we don’t have to call it that,” 

“We’re,” You trail off, trying to find the words, “dating?” 

“Partners?” Yunho offers a slightly less casual word. 

“Together,” Mingi cuts in, “that’s what we are. We’re your alphas, we belong to you, and you,” he draws you closer in his arms to press a soft kiss on your lips, “are our omega.” 

“And at work?” You trail off. 

“We’ll be ourselves,” Yunho suggests, “people probably already know after last week anyways,” 

Mingi nods, dipping forward and pressing a kiss to your lips, “No more pretending we don’t mean something to each other,” 

“No more pretending,” You shift in his arms, wrapping your arms properly around his shoulders so that you’re hugging each other tightly. 

Mingi hums appreciatively, his breath warm against your hair and then he chuckles a little as he readjusts you in his arms, “Is it too fast if I start calling you yeobo, though? I feel like it suits you,” 

You pull back from the hug, “We’re not married, Mingi,” you remind him, “and I didn’t hear a proposal,” 

“You want to get proposed to, baby?” He teases and you shove his chest. 

“Knock it off,” Yunho smacks the back of Mingi’s head, “our relationship doesn’t have to break the sound barrier,” 

“I’m kidding,” Mingi squeezes you, shifting to take a few steps and deposit you on the kitchen counter before stepping back with a quick peck on your lips. 

“Hmm,” Yunho rolls his eyes and slumps back against the counter next to you, one wide hand smoothing over your thigh, “we just got you back, I’d like to avoid scaring you off,” 

“I’m not scared,” You shake your head, and as you say it, you realize it’s true. Six months ago you would have balked at Mingi’s veiled promise of his intentions, you would have told them all their hormones were mixed up and confused. You would have told yourself the same. It feels strange to feel completely at peace with the idea of a real someday with them. 

Yunho’s eyebrow quirks up in a question at your words and Mingi grins, a little self satisfied. 

“Actually,” You exhale heavily and straighten up, “I talked to Wooyoung yesterday and he helped me figure some things out,” 

“Things?” Mingi asks. 

“Um,” Your pounds in your chest, “yeah,” 

Yunho gives you an encouraging squeeze to keep going. 

You meet his eyes and take the leap, “Can you make that call? For me to talk with someone?” 

He softens and nods, “I’ll do it first thing,” 

“Okay,” You say, taking another deep breath, “then there’s one more thing to tell you,” 

Mingi doesn’t say anything, but he steps back closer to you, resting his hand on your opposite thigh. 

“It’s my turn to ask you to be patient,” You give them both an anxious, close lipped smile. 

“We’re listening,” Mingi soothes you. 

“Okay,” You take both their hands in yours, “here goes. The idea of bonding with you both is kind of sending me into a tailspin right now, and I’m terrified that it’s something I’m never going to get over. Wooyoung told me to talk to someone to work through that and I want to. I thought about it all day, and the truth is that I want to be with you both for as long as you’ll have me. You feel like you’re mine, now more than ever, and I’m scared, but I’m also scared of not trying,” 

“And if I can be yours like this for now,” You continue, “without bonds like you said, pack even if it’s unofficial, then maybe I can work through this and make it official someday. I’m just scared your definition of ‘far in the future’ and my definition are different though, and I,” 

“Fuck bonds,” Mingi interrupts, moving to cup both your cheeks and draw your eyes to his, “that shit doesn’t matter to me at all. We’re together by choice, not by claim. If you want my bite someday, I’ll give it to you, but you won’t ever hear me ask, alright? Never.” 

“Me too,” Yunho’s hand brushes down your hair, coming to rest on the back of your neck, “as far as I’m concerned it’s secondary, I don’t care what anyone thinks. I’d sooner leave you than push you into a bond you aren’t ready for,” 

You jolt forwards, throwing an arm around each of their shoulders and nearly slipping off the counter when you do, but they hold you steady as you pull them in. 

“We just want you,” Mingi’s rough, low voice murmurs, “just this.” 

You feel their warmth, the steady thrum of each of their heartbeats, their scents curling around you like a safe, easy memory. The words find themselves right on the tip of your tongue again, only this time, this time they come. 

“I love you,” You take in a sharp, emotional breath as you get yourself together, overwhelmed by their words, “I love you both so much,” 

Yunho dips back to find your mouth, locking his lips on yours and sighing a breath of true relief against your mouth, “I love you too, sweetheart,”

Mingi redirects your gaze with his fingers on your jaw the moment Yunho starts to lean back and he kisses you hard, leaving you gripping his shirt for balance, “I love you,”

“God,” You smile, every part of your body alight with joy, “I think we might be crazy, but I don’t care,” 

“Good,” Yunho glances between you both, “because I think I’m having a crazy idea,” 

“What idea?” 

“Move in,” He blurts out, and he can’t stop smiling, “fuck giving you a key, fuck calling you our girlfriend. Move in properly, be ours. If we’re together, let’s be together, we’ve lost enough time,” 

“Who’s moving fast now?” Mingi says, but he’s smiling too. 

Everything in your body feels right, feels safe. You’ve been calling this home for days, and you’ve been calling them yours in your head for so much longer. 

You’re nodding before your mouth can catch up with your brain, “Okay, okay, yes, let’s do it,” 

Yunho pulls you up into his arms and holds you close, peppering kisses across your temple, “We’ll figure everything else out later, but at least we’ll be together,” 

“Thank God,” You melt into his embrace, meeting Mingi’s eyes over Yunho’s shoulder, “because I really didn’t want to leave,” 

“No leaving this time,” Mingi smiles softly as Yunho nods his head against yours. 

“Mm-mm,” You shake your head, agreeing with his words. 

“We’ll get everything from your place as soon as we can, make it official,” Mingi adds. 

You nod, and then a thought occurs to you, “Is there even enough room for me here?” 

Yunho unwraps himself from around you and nods, “We’ll need a bigger bed,”

“For a start,” Mingi nods, “and you need a nest,” 

“Yeah?” Your very own nest, a real one. 

“Oh, babe,” Mingi finds your hand, tugging you in, “you’re about to get fucking spoiled, anything you want, we’ll figure it out.” 

“You don’t have to, I just want to be here,” You tell them. 

“Doesn’t matter,” Yunho says, “we’ve waited for you for so long,” 

“Too long,” Mingi wraps his arms around you both, “way too long,” 

It doesn’t matter anymore what pushed you into their arms, what kind of day you’ve had, everything you’ve had to get through. Not a thing in the world matters but this choice, the safe home of their arms, three of you against the world like it was always meant to be. 

[madaqueue]

Practice Makes Perfect | Chapter 1

synopsis: you and yuji have been best friends basically as long as you can remember, and you made a promise to each other to stay friends and help each other be the best versions of yourselves for your future partners. but will things change when yuji finally starts looking for a relationship?

pairing: yuji itadori (18+) x f!reader

themes/content: modern college au (characters aged up to 18+). fluff, angst, language. kissing, mention of over-clothes grinding. 18+, MDNI

word count: 2.3k

a/n: baby's first multi-chapter fic, please be nice or i'll cry :) thx. also this will eventually get more intense, but we're starting light teehee

series masterlist | next chapter

You and Yuji Itadori have been friends your whole lives. You remember the day you first met on the playground in elementary school where you both insisted on racing each other to decide who got to use the tire swing first, and when you came in a dead tie you both refused to concede and ended up sitting on the swing together for the rest of recess. You stayed close as you grew up, often having sleepovers at each other's houses every weekend and spending almost every day together in and outside of school.

On one of these sleepovers while you were both sophomores in high school, you got around to discussing your first kisses and realized neither of you had had yours yet. You both agreed it wouldn't be weird to kiss each other and went for it; the only problem was that it was awful. From that day forward you both vowed to stay friends, but help each other practice all that romance stuff for whenever either of you wanted to actually date someone.

It was a miracle when you both ended up getting accepted to the same college, since one of you (*cough* Yuji) definitely slacked off a little more in high school, but you were so excited to get to spend the next four years with him.

The first semester of college went by quickly and you didn’t get to see each other too often since you came in as an engineering major and he was slowly working his way through business classes. Even though you hadn’t spent as much time together, you’d still get texts from him every few days with some stupid meal concoction he’d made in his dorm kitchen and you’d send each other TikToks that made you laugh. You let yourself fall into a rhythm between classes, homework, and exams, until one Wednesday evening you get an unexpected notification lighting up your phone:

Yuji: “heyy, come over? got a question to ask you”

The message sent butterflies through your stomach for some reason; you two hadn’t seen each other for a few weeks, and his text was much more direct than you expected. Your fingers hover over the keyboard as you think of how to respond.

You: “okayy, be over in 5. should I bring anything?”

His response almost immediately appears under yours:

Yuji: “just yourself, sweets ;)”

The nickname caught you a bit off guard and you questioned what to say next before another text came up:

Yuji: “sorry, don’t know why I said that lmao. see you soon :)”

You sigh and lock your phone, setting it down on the bed beside you before standing up and sliding your shoes, tossing on a sweatshirt on top of your leggings and cropped t-shirt before heading out.

—

You stand outside his dorm, looking at the “Yuji” name sign made out of construction paper taped to his door. Below it was a mini whiteboard he had put up that had some less-than-tasteful drawings and the note “Itadori + Fushiguro” written on it surrounded by hearts. You rolled your eyes as you knocked, the door immediately swinging open as you were greeted by the pink-haired boy wearing his standard red hoodie and jeans combo, looking down on you with a huge grin on his face.

“Welcome, welcome!” he said with a smile, ushering you inside. You looked around and realized you had never actually been in his dorm before - whenever you hung out last semester it was always at cafes, the library, or a party, but never in either of your rooms. You look around and appreciate that he actually managed to make the small space kind of nice. You smirk at the dark blue bedding on his twin size mattress and pinup posters adorning his walls as the LEDs lining the room cast a blue glow across everything.

“You like it?” Yuji asked, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

“It’s very…hmm…how do I say this…you,” you say with a smirk.

He giggles as he flops down on the bed. “Well, you did always know me well.”

You kick off your shoes and sit down onto the bed next to him. “So, what’d you have to ask me?” you question as you turn to face him.

“Right!” he exclaims, hopping off the bed to stand in front of you. “Remember when we were younger and we promised to help each other practice all the romance stuff so we’d be ready for when we get in a real relationship?” You nod as he continues. “Well, I think I might finally be ready to kick things off, and I sorta need your help with the whole practice thing.”

You freeze. This was the last thing on your mind when you came over. You hadn’t even seen Yuji in almost a month, and this is the first thing he says to you? How could he even remember that stupid deal you had made after your horrible first kiss with each other?

Your thoughts suddenly come to a halt as you realize what this might mean. “Wait,” you start, looking up at him from the bed, “does this mean you have a crush on someone?”

Yuji’s face turns red as he breaks eye contact and looks down at the ground, one arm reaching up behind his head to scratch his undercut. “Um, kinda, I think so,” he says as he grins sheepishly. “There’s a girl in one of my classes, and we’ve hung out a few times for this group project, and-“

“And you want my help making sure you know what you’re doing, right?” you cut him off. He looks back up at you, cheeks still red, and nods slightly. “Wait,” you think out loud, “does that mean you haven’t kissed anyone since then?”

His face flushes again and his eyes shoot back to the ground as he mumbles “No.”

You chuckle softly as you get up to meet him in the middle of the room, throwing your arms around his neck and tilting his chin so you’re making eye contact. You’re not sure where the sudden confidence comes from, but it just feels natural for you in that moment. In all honesty, you actually hadn’t kissed anyone since then either - you just hadn’t seen the need - but Yuji doesn’t need to know that. You gaze into his soft brown eyes as he nervously bites his lip, waiting for your response to his confession.

“Don’t worry Yu, that’s okay,” you whisper, your lips nearly grazing his, “we can practice together.”

Yuji nearly squeals with excitement, dissipating any tension or romance that was building between you two. “Yay! Thank you, thank you, thank you!” he exclaims as he wraps his arms around your waist, lifting you up in the air and spinning you around. He sets you down but his hands don’t leave your hips as he looks down at you expectantly. “Okay, where do we start?” he practically beams down at you.

You pause to think for a moment before responding. “Well, we should probably figure out where you’re starting so we can work on what actually needs to be improved.”

“Works for me!” he says, picking you up again with ease as he walks towards his bed. Your legs wrap around his waist for stability as he sits down with his back against the headboard and you in his lap. The position also gave you butterflies for some reason, which was odd since the two of you used to sit like this all the time - you in Yuji’s lap during car rides when there wasn’t enough space, your head laying across his chest while you watched movies, or even his head resting on your stomach while you tried to braid his hair. But for some reason, this time felt different, maybe because you knew what was about to happen.

“Ready?” he asked with a smile. You nod, trying to mentally prepare yourself for what you expect is going to be a repeat of your last horrible kiss. “Okay, let’s do this,” Yuji says with a soft sigh, still smiling, and you try not to laugh at his lack of seriousness about the whole situation. But before you can react, his hand reaches up to your cheek and his eyes flutter closed as he leans towards you. You let your eyes shut as his soft lips press against yours. He holds himself there for a moment before beginning to gently suck on your bottom lip. The unexpected action causes you to open your mouth slightly in surprise, and he takes the opportunity to gently slide his tongue between your lips. Your tongues meet as he gently explores your mouth with his. His hand moves from your cheek to the back of your neck, holding you close to him. At the same time, one of your hands slides up from his hips to the back of his hair and you run your fingers over the softness of his freshly-trimmed undercut.

You start to feel yourself get lightheaded as the kiss gets sloppier and Yuji shows no sign of letting up. You begin to pull yourself away to catch your breath but just as you feel the air hit your lungs he uses the hand on your neck to gently push you back towards his slightly parted lips. It’s almost as if he couldn’t stand to spend a second separated from you and you willingly lean back in as he gets more eager, his tongue effortlessly slipping back into your mouth. The action elicits a soft moan from you, and you feel heat building between your legs. Your hips almost start grinding against the boy beneath you before you remember who it is - your best friend. You open your eyes suddenly and pull away from the kiss, Yuji loosening his hold on the back of your neck as a thin thread of your shared saliva temporarily connects your lips. You are met with those sweet, brown eyes, his cheeks flushed and lips pink from the intense kiss you suddenly pulled him away from.

As your brain clears, the first thing you’re able to say to him is “What the hell?”

“What, was it alright?” he hums back through a smile.

“That was m-more than alright, there’s no way that’s only your second time ever doing that!” you stutter, trying to get the words out.

He shrugs, “What can I say? Sometimes I’m just a natural.”

You start to sit up more and lean back off his lap, when there’s a sudden noise at the door. “Dude c’mon, hop on Discord, we’re gonna play some ranked matches.” The door handle turns as the sentence finishes, and in steps a man dressed in all black with his short black hair fanning out in every direction. He takes in the scene in front of him with you and Yuji sitting on the bed and he immediately covers his eyes with his hands. “S-shit, I’m so sorry, I-I didn’t know you had someone over and I-“ he stutters as you watch his ears turn red from embarrassment.

“No need to apologize my dear friend!” Yuji proclaims as he hops off the bed, clearly no longer thinking about the intense moment you two just shared. He turns to you while gesturing towards the clearly distressed man in the doorway. “This is Fushiguro!” he yells, almost too loudly, with a smile plastered on his face.

Once the man in the door realizes that Yuji has no plans to provide any more information, he removes his hands from his eyes and politely waves at you from across the room. “Um, hi. Yeah, I’m Megumi Fushiguro, but you can just call me Megumi. I live across the hall from Yuji,” he explains, pointing over his shoulder at the door to his room.

You introduce yourself and give a little wave back. “Oh, wait a minute, you’re the Fushiguro that’s on Yuji’s sign on his door, right?” you say with a little laugh, remembering the whiteboard you saw on your way in.

“That's the one! Isn’t he charming?” Yuji sing-speaks as he practically skips towards Megumi. 

The boy in black seems less than impressed with the situation and rolls his eyes. “Yep, that’s me. Again though, you can call me Megumi. I don’t know why Yuji insists on calling me by my last name, I mean we’re basically the same age-”

“Because I just loooooove your name!” Yuji exclaims, now standing next to Megumi and batting his eyelashes dramatically at him. Megumi responds by holding a hand out to his side and gently shoving Yuji, who dramatically pretends to slide down against the wall with a pout.

“Anyways, I was gonna play some video games, but if you guys are busy we can do it another night,” Megumi explains.

“Nah don’t worry, I should probably head home anyways and make some dinner, I’ll leave you boys to it,” you say as you stand up to put your sweatshirt back on, trying to ignore the pulsing between your legs.

Still sitting on the ground, Yuji chimes in, “Aww, you don’t want me to make you dinner here?”

“I don’t think I want to eat the things you make if they’re anything like the meals you’ve been sending me over the past semester,” you preempt.

“Oh man, he’s shown you those too?” Megumi responds with a smirk as he reaches a hand out to help Yuji off the floor.

Yuji stands up proudly, stating “You guys just don’t understand my culinary genius.”

“I wouldn’t call a strawberry Poptart with cheese on it ‘culinary genius,’” you say with a chuckle as a pout returns to Yuji’s face. You put your shoes on and slide past the boys in the doorway. “Anyways, goodnight Yuji, and it was nice to meet you Megumi!” you wave back at them from the hallway.

—

When you get back to your dorm, you’re finally able to process the events that just took place. All you’re left with is more questions.

When did he learn how to kiss like that? How did he learn how to kiss like that? And why do you want more of it so badly?

series masterlist | next chapter

[armysantiny]

My Exception – HRJ

P: Renjun x gender neutral reader | G: drabble, fluff | Inc: reading corners, movie nights, renjun and y/n being really soft, pastries, movie snacks, hot drinks | Wc: 600 | W: food (bc pastries/snacks) | R: G

Summary: Renjun’s reading time is sacred; a dedicated few hours every weekend spent with him, his wax melts, a book, and a hot drink. Though he can make an exception for y/n. He can always make an  exception for them.

Min's notes: Everyone say thank you to Kyu <;33

Renjun inhales as he settles down in his loveseat, the sandalwood and cardamom wax melt covering his little reading corner in warmth. The air around him smells inviting, tempting him into drifting away into the world of his books. He’s already got a book in mind, picking it out from his stack of books and returning to where he last left his bookmark. It’s a romantic thriller, pulling at his imagination as soon as he begins to read.

Y/n’s on their way back from an outing, he’s got a coffee beside him, and he’s got a good book. What more could he ask for?

It’s silent in the shared apartment, bar the occasional turning of the page and hum of interest. The twists in the novel have already started to appear, one by one in a slow but addicting pace, and Renjun finds himself theorising more as he goes along, taking sips of his coffee and making a note to thank y/n again for splurging on the Nespresso machine. It’s a thing of beauty.

“…home baby~!” y/n’s voice pulls Renjun out of the scene he was reading, drawing his attention to the door where his partner’s taking off their shoes. He leans forward, grins when y/n eventually spots him and waves his greeting. He looks for his bookmark, slotting it in between the pages and returns the paperback to the mini library stand of books. Sure, he could go back to reading his book, knowing all too well y/n would be more than happy to respect his reading time, but he’s missed them.

He can pause his reading time for his favourite person.

“I brought some pastries from that café you like, wanna have some later?” Y/n asks, making their way over to Renjun’s little reading nook and draping themselves over the back.

“Sure. Movie night?”

“Movie night.” They confirm, tapping their lips for a kiss, a pleased smile on their face seconds later when Renjun grants their wish. “How’s the book?”

“It’s so good! The police just started hunting down one of their suspects,” y/n chuckles as Renjun starts becoming more and more animated, “but if you ask me, I don’t think the professor did it at all, he’s clearly trying to cover up for someone else.” Renjun’s review continues, and a little ball of fondness grows in y/n’s chest as they listen, admiring the man they get to call their own. They subtly ask him to budge over and take a seat beside him, half sitting across the grey Hampshire loveseat and half hanging over the armrest.

It's comfy. They’re comfy, with him.

The wax melt burner sits on the tv stand this time, a new wax melt on the surface melting away as y/n brings a tray of cookies from the kitchen, Renjun holding their drinks. It’s a movie night, there’s a shower of rain outside and the Netflix menu screen stares back at the pair, awaiting to play their first of many films that evening. Renjun’s the first to sit down, open arms inviting y/n to cuddle up beside him as they rest on the sofa.

“Want to pick first?” Renjun offers, a simple thing of a gesture and he basks in the soft affection he feels when they nod, a languid smile on their face. He watches them pick, eventually landing on a movie they’ve been putting off for a while now and rests his head on top of theirs.

“Hey, don’t fall asleep just yet,” y/n warns, a smile in their voice. “I’ve been dying to watch this with you.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

© copyright work of armysantiny 2023-2024

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[5ummit]

HTP Fic Recs: Hidden Gems

Have you, like me, devoured everything in the Hydra Trash Party AO3 tag and are desperate for more? Well you may be in luck.

In honor of CATWS's 10th anniversary I’ve decided, yet again, to make a new rec list so that these gems don't get buried in my overwhelmingly extensive original rec list. This list features HTP and HTP-adjacent fics that are NOT tagged as HTP (either because the author didn't know the label existed or didn't believe it applied to their fic), making them particularly hard to find, and I think, deserving of more attention.

Many of these fics don’t have much, if any, explicit noncon, but noncon is often implied or referenced and they’re all rife with other types of dehumanization and abuse so the usual HTP warnings still apply. Read tags carefully etc.

The Making of the Winter Soldier [series] by CluckU & Mumble_Bee Relationship: Hydra Agents/WS, Zola/WS Words: 13,700

There are a small, precious collection of things he knows for certain each time he wakes in his chair: He is a weapon. A soldier. An asset. He is being molded into the Fist of Hydra. He must prove himself. Failure is not an option.

Muscle Memory by sparklingbinjuice Relationship: Rumlow & Bucky Words: 4500

It had taken five minutes of fumbling but he had eventually picked the lock. The soldier wouldn’t be back for hours. Coordinates provided by the remaining, somewhat rudimentary, tracking device installed in the titanium arm indicated that he wandered the streets on weekends – watching people, visiting libraries and museums, feeding the birds. It was all so horribly human.

Reconquer, regain, recover by werebird Relationship: Hydra Agents/WS (past) Words: 2300

Hydra had known his body better than he himself ever could. They had taken it, reshaped it, reprogrammed it. They had birthed the Winter Soldier although they had never given him life.

Taming Winter by Runlights Relationship: Rumlow & WS, Steve & Bucky Words: 91,000 Notes: terrifying bloodthirsty WS

Regardless of the intravenous set pumping warming fluids into those veins, regardless of the fact that a moment ago, the guy looked on the verge of death, the Winter Soldier was out of the chair and in front of him with two steps that happened so quickly he didn’t even have time to do more than inhale. He froze as he felt the press of his own combat knife against his throat, the bite of the blade causing blood to well and slip down his throat. This was the point where he suspected people felt fear, especially staring into those unfocused cold eyes. He only felt a twisted fascination.

The Soldier’s Kittens by exclamation Relationship: Sam & Bucky, Steve & Bucky Words: 11,300 Notes: animal abuse/death

"Sam's a really good guy," Steve said. "I think you'd like him if you spent more time with him." Bucky said nothing. He would not show any interest in Sam, just as he had not shown any interest when Steve had taken him to the animal shelter to try and get him to interact with the dogs there. He knew this trap and he wouldn't fall into it twice.

Flinching by Exorin Relationship: Steve/Bucky Words: 570

It might finally break what's left of him if Steve knew the way he's had to dig his nails into his palms hard enough to draw blood just to shape his breath into the sound of a moan.

I'm comin' up only to hold you under by anonymous Relationship: Hydra Agents/Bucky, Steve/Bucky (past) Words: 2100

They drag him out of his cell by his hair and toss him into a room full of identical guards. He lands hard on his knees, the force of the impact stuttering up his weak, tired body, and he glares up and them with all the hatred he can gather. He feels off-balance, like he does whenever he tries to carry himself now—the stump of his missing arm has a phantom weight he can't get used to, won't get used to.

Context is Everything by thedevilchicken Relationship: Hannibal/Bucky Words: 2600

"I don't understand," Bucky replied. "Recontextualize?" "Your memories of HYDRA seem…distant," Hannibal said. "The way you speak about them is as if they happened to someone else. In order to process your trauma, you must understand that they happened to you."

Never Letting the Blood Dry by BarrenPines Relationship: Rumlow & WS, Steve & Bucky Words: 2500 Notes: whipping

After the mission, there were pats on the back, expressions of congratulations and thanks, and a dozen other little niceties that made his skin crawl. He’d gotten lucky, that’s all. And he’d also defied orders, departed from his assigned task. Praise wasn’t what he deserved.

[yandere-paramour]

What would the yanderes do for the holidays?

Noelle's birthday was yesterday so I added an extra bit to her birthday post here!

Atalanta checks in at the business for a few hours then heads right back to the apartment to retrieve you. Obviously, the Montclair businesses are very profitable at Christmastime, so she's been appearing at work every day, even weekends, much to your disgruntlement. But she promises, uninterrupted family time from Christmas until her birthday. It's finally Christmas Eve, time to leave the busy city for the stately Montclair estate in the countryside.

Asteria and Jamie are overjoyed to see their children. You and Ata are met with hugs and kisses and love. Jamie's been baking and his gingerbread cake is on the horizon; you even offer to help! After some rest in your rooms, you all gather to eat. The Christmas Eve feast is light, but filling. As tradition, tonight is all about the sweets. The drawing room is set up with cookies, fruits, and hot chocolate, and the family all gathers for some family time. You play games and watch Christmas movies, talking and laughing and enjoying being together. You can feel the love in everyone's eyes as they look at you.

Christmas morning is deliciously lazy. Everyone sleeps in and you wake up in your girlfriend's warm arms, her messy brown hair tickling the back of your neck. No presents end up being opened until late morning. Your presents are meticulously chosen, thoughtful, and expensive, as one would expect from the Montclairs, and you love them. Asteria and Jamie gift you and Ata a luxury cruise, and you thank them profusely in shocked pleasure. You all lie about on couches, drinking hot chocolates and warm cider as you binge-watch movies. At one point, all four of you end up asleep. It's so warm and comfortable and loving, the perfect Christmas, and you love Ata's parents even more.

Vivien spends November/December GRINDING. The flower shop is busier than ever getting shipments in and out, and his own side-hustle is also busy. He spends weekends stirring giant pots of syrups and salves, packaging herbal teas, and distilling pure essential oils. He makes a lot of his extra money with this work, selling over his website and at the farmers market and at the small stand in the corner of the shop, so he really has to work hard to get it all done. He might be a tad bit distant during this time but just because he's so busy and tired.

He stashes away some of the money for a future rainy day, but most of it will be for your presents. Any spare time is spent ordering things online for you. Throughout the year he keeps a note on his phone of things you'd mentioned in passing, and now he's getting as much as he can to spoil you. In the days up until Christmas, he starts work on a big batch of sancocho or whatever else delicious Caribbean food you both decide on. He bakes sweet after sweet, perfecting his recipes for you and giving the others out as gifts.

Christmas morning, you and he open presents while he makes breakfast and hot chocolate. He is perfectly happy to spend the late morning/afternoon with your family, as long as you both visit the old lady who runs the flower shop later in the day. Vivien might as well be her son for all they love each other, and he's been her only Christmas guest since he was 15. After dinner made by Vivien, you both go home and have some more hot chocolate, falling into bed so Vivien can finally sleep off the holiday season.

[thephooka]

Happy Webcomic Day! My webcomic White Noise is a labor of love--according to Procreate, this page took me 15.5 hours to complete.* Here's a look into that process!

Some other notes:

The thumbnails are done on graph paper and I script while I do them--there is no separate written script for White Noise. I usually spent a couple hours on weekends as needed thumbnailing, sometimes at a coffee shop or at home listening to records.

I then set up the file in Photoshop, so I can lay in the text and use the template I have with bleeds already set up. The text is rasterized and I shuttle the file over to my iPad via Airdrop.

The bulk of the actual work is done in Procreate, which records timelapses that I sometimes share to my Patreon. I usually spend a couple hours most nights after my day job or on the bus commuting doing this.

Once everything art-wise is done, I shuttle the file back over to my desktop to re-set in the text, add a stroke around the speech bubbles (Procreate doesn't have that took fsr) and do the resizing/exporting for web.

On Sunday mornings I get up, queue the page and write the page descriptions. I don't spend any time on the page descriptions outside of that.

Also, this process goes for the whole first arc of White Noise. I'm done with that arc (which means you can binge the whole thing I'm js!!) and am experimenting with some different methods these days, but my workflow is still generally the same.

*Some more talk about the labor (and burnout) involved below the cut:

This particular page (and most of the pages I did in 2023) took a lot longer than normal because I was heading into a burnout period that I'm still lowkey in/recovering from. It's obvious to me now in retrospect watching the timelapse here and seeing how much noodling I'm doing and how much I'm struggling with the process, but at the time I was just very frustrated generally. When I'm not burned tf out pages take maybe 10 hours max.

2023 was a pretty stressful year--lots of big life changes, uncertainty, pet death, health issues--so it's no wonder it propelled me into burnout, but it just goes to show that even the slowest and steadiest pace is not sustainable forever. I've been doing one page a week following this general process for over a decade! And I stuck to that pace because I knew it was one I could maintain. But even so, by the end of this arc I found myself working more and more slowly, not really looking forward to the work, feeling anxious about being behind, unhappy with the finished work, and extremely annoyed with myself for not being able to give it my all right there at the finish line.

I did stop for a while after the epilogue and took a more or less complete break from drawing for about a month--the longest I have EVER gone without drawing, much less working on White Noise--which did help, but these days my ability to work is...inconsistent. I should probably take another total break, but I'm reluctant. What if my passion never comes back? What if people forget about WN? It's already pretty obscure, and with the general social media collapse, it's harder than ever to get people to read my work. Now that I've left Hiveworks, WN doesn't even get the benefit of being linked to other comics (although objectively very, very few readers actually got referred to my comic that way.) And frankly, I'm also just too proud to go too long without comic updates. I've always told myself, I might not be the best artist or the fastest worker or make a popular comic, but I'm consistent. Difficult to let that go.

This is all to say that webcomics are hard. We do them because we love them, we have stories to tell, we are seized with the human compulsion to create. We spend hours of our time, almost always on top of the paying work that allows us to eat, to make something that we then give away for free. It has consequences on us that the reader doesn't often see, no matter how careful we are about it. If you ask me, webcomics deserve to be valued more.

Happy Webcomic Day! Read webcomics!

[soufcakmistress]

new love on the near northside

A/N: haters that ruin the fun will get blessed out and blocked! find someone else to play with, tysm :) this is for all the sydcarmy truthers like me who’ve been in a spiral for two years

Pairing: Sydney Adamu x Carmen Berzatto

“All right chefs, we need to fire four prime ribs, two lobster risottos, and four cream puffs!”

“Yes, Chef!”

“Marcus, 86 the mascarpone for the cherry tart on 20!”

“Heard, chef!”

“Okay I need to see hands!”

The waitstaff gingerly grab the plated dishes from the final station, while Carmy is gently yet firmly reminding them not to smudge the plates as they’re being taken to their respective tables. Dinner service is in an awesome groove right now and Syd is feeling confident tonight. She’s still riding on a high from the last food critic that visited from the Chicago Tribune, who raved over her braised short rib and orzo pasta. There are also other reasons for Syd’s good mood.

“Open your legs, Syd..”

Syd shudders, takes three deep breaths and continues to fire off orders from the expo. The Bear has been packed almost every single night for three weeks. They don’t have much of a waitlist yet, but word of mouth moves quickly in Chicago and the front of house are noticing some repeat customers already.

Carmy joined Syd at the expo, and she can still pick up the scent of his cologne even in the midst of garlic, heavy cream and raw seafood. If she even peeks at him, she’ll lose her train of thought, and that’s the last thing the team needs right now. After having to let go of Josh after his unfortunate episode, her sous Tina has been pulling double time, covering both stations like a champ. She makes a mental note to give her an unbelievable gift and some love this weekend. “How are we doing, Chef? We cool?”

His eyes are so crystal clear and she recollects how he stares through her when they….oh fuck. “Yes, Chef. Runners are getting everything out in a timely manner, and we are turning these tables around. You?”

“Carmy, Carmy, yes—oh!”

Carmy licks and bites his lips and smirks. “Yes Chef. You’re the captain of this ship.” He squeezes her shoulder and goes back to his station as their boucher, Daniela checks in with Carmy about the fat trimmings for their beef.

Fak, Richie and Sweeps were holding down the front since Nat is on maternity leave. Carmy keeps a wallet size photo of his brand new nephew at his station, looking occasionally with a smile. Forty five more minutes before dinner service is over and Syd can finally go puke out back. “Chefs, we’re almost in the clear! Let’s keep up the momentum and sense of urgency!”

“Yes, Chef!”

Every dish is gorgeous. So many painstaking hours reworking the menu. Chaos menu, thoughtful chaos menu, back to chaos menu again. Reviewing and poring over Carmy’s intricate drawings, all the late night sessions, so much money spent on ingredients—it was enough to make Syd’s head spin. Hence why, almost a month since The Bear opened she’s still subsisting on a diet of Tums and Pepto.

She’s eternally grateful for her partners. Nat and Cicero have saved all their asses more times than they can count. Cicero is a hard ass but he adores Carmy and Sugar and has grown to love Syd as well. And of course, the best chef she’s ever had the privilege of working beside is her executive chef, business partner, best friend and now lover.

“Look at you. You’re so wet baby. Fuck—”

~

They’ve managed to keep their love affair under wraps for this long. It’s a struggle not to be able to touch each other when they’re working. Tina and Marcus are too perceptive; they would be found out immediately. Still, Sydney feels like a giddy school girl whenever Carmy corners her in the office as they open the restaurant every morning—both of his hands by her sides keeping her close. He’s so incredibly sexy without even trying and she still gets shy sometimes. He has to pull her chin from her shoulder and make her look at him.

“Don’t run away from me. You know I won’t let you..” And those ocean blue eyes of his again….and his lips are feather light on top of hers. Her knees are ready to buckle and Carmy sensed as much, so he pulls her close to the hardness of his chest and stomach to keep her standing.

She loves how his stubble feels on her chin and cheeks, especially when he drags his mouth down her jaw and lightly sucks on her neck. “Carm, Carm, Carm, oh my god, don’t! If they see me with a hickey when I didn’t have one yesterday, how do I explain that?” Her face is hurting, she’s cheesing so hard.

One hand slides up her chef whites, slipping under her camisole and his agile fingers pinch her nipple while his tongue circles her earlobe. Syd’s learned that Carmy is insatiable. For someone to not be as experienced as he claims—his hands, lips, tongue…always seem to go exactly where she needs them to. “I can’t help it, Chef. You’re just so damn beautiful.”

Syd’s hands roam all over his thick biceps and eventually land in the bushy mess atop his head. Their tongues lave and suck on each other’s and their moans can’t be held back any longer. Carmy pulls her leg up to his hip while he grips her braids, until he hears Marcus and Sweeps come through the back door. They separate quickly and get themselves together. Lusty gazes linger between them and they’re both aching between their legs. Carmy is as red as a beet, and Syd’s lips are swollen from his kisses and nipping. “Right, thank you chef.” Syd walks out first awkwardly with wobbly legs that make Carmy chuckle.

~

Dinner service is over—the kitchen has been scrubbed down, trash taken out, perishables have been stocked away in the lowboys and walk-in, and the back of house staff has skated out. It’s just Carmen and Sydney, in their brand new restaurant. “I’m beat. You got all your stuff right?”

Syd has an overnight bag with everything she needs for a weekend with her babe. “Yes, I do! Are you..ready to go?” Carmy grabs the weekend bag along with her hand and they walk in tandem to his car.

Carmy has been seeing a therapist in addition to the Al-anon meetings and Sydney can tell a difference already. He’s slower to rant and rave and owns up to his mistakes. More eager to hear people out. She’s proud of him—he’s suffered through a lot to make it to this point. They eventually arrive to his apartment and a shower is the first order of business. Syd loves the water pressure at Carmy’s place and taking showers together has been great for their newfound intimacy. They undress each other, Syd pulls her braids up in a high bun, and they just hold each other under the steaming water. This is their time. Away from The Bear. Away from Chicago. Away from the many demands and decisions they’re forced to confront every single day.

Carmy washes her with her pink loofah that’s been made a permanent staple in his bathroom. This is all new to Syd; her heart blooms in her chest at these big feelings she’s experiencing. He’s gentle and doesn’t leave an inch of skin untouched. Syd washes his hair with his expensive shampoo and Carmy’s eyes close in ecstasy. They needed this tenderness. They deserved it.

All cleaned up and fresh, they mosey back to the kitchen for a late night meal. Habits are hard to break. “Spaghetti?” Carmy suggests.

“Yes oh my goodness. Butttt use bucatini instead. And all the cheese.” He smiles in agreement and pecks her on the lips and gets out all the ingredients they need. Julia Child is on in the background on a public access channel, as they converse about the restaurant and Carmy’s nephew and Sydney’s dad and Carmy’s dysfunctional family, the deep loss Syd still feels at the absence of her mom for most of her life. More tenderness.

Pasta is rolled out. Meat sauce is sautéed, seasoned and almost ready. The Shiraz is poured. Carmy can’t stop staring at her in his shirt and boxers. She’s so cute. The pasta boils and he watches her watching the program, fully enthralled. Everything is finally done; he plates everything in his unique Carmy way and Syd audibly orgasms at how the savory flavors meld together especially with the wine.

He grates more pecorino over the pasta and the lull in conversation is comfortable and warm. Not awkward and full of anxiety like with Donna….leaving him constantly overthinking and being afraid to speak. Sydney seemingly knows what he’s going to say before he does and that brings him comfort. They’re in crystal clear alignment on every way and he now knows a semblance of peace.

“Fuck. This is good.” Sydney is damn near scraping the plate, while Carmy is smiling the biggest she’d ever seen from him. They both love when the other eats their food. That sense of pride is undeniable.

“I’m glad you enjoyed, Chef. Anything for you.” He winks at her and she gets bashful and mumbled out that she’s going to take care of the dishes since he cooked. To his surprise, he’s a little more tipsy than he realized from the Shiraz. Carmy drains his glass and pours himself another, while checking Syd’s frame out. His boxers are screaming for relief and a little moan eeks out of him before he can stop it. Thankfully Syd isn’t aware of his moment of weakness.

Carmy swallows and wipes his lips and moseys behind his girlfriend. Kissing and nipping. “I’m almost done here, Carm..” Syd whines a bit at his ministrations and drops the plate into the soapy water.

“Yeah. Not fast enough for me..” Carmy turns her around and leaps with his tongue and mouth first. Her hands are dripping wet but she doesn’t waste a second grabbing his head of wild curls and taking what he has to give. Carmy grabs her legs to wrap them around his waist and Syd can periodically feel him thrust up into her mound, wailing for stimulation that only he can provide.

Their shared affection overpowers the television, and Carmy feels his way down the hallway with his baby in his arms. His love, that saved him in so many ways. He pulls his shirt off, she takes hers off. She takes his boxers off that she had on and she lays on his bed, naked as the day she was born. “Fuck me, Carmen.”

She held in her amusement because his entire neck and face was blood red with the pupils of his eyes blown out. Syd knows that he’s doing everything he can to stay contained, but he knows her better by now—she does what she wants. So she spreads her legs for him and twirls her clit in tandem with a brown nipple. Carmy’s about to explode.

He drops to his knees and explores her love below like it’s never been done before. “Sydney, why do you taste so good? Why do you do this to me..” She relishes in the fact that he’s potentially bruising her with the vice grip he has on her thighs, but yet she’s so afraid that she’s gonna squirt in his face if he keeps gently sucking her clit in and out of his lips like that. His manicured fingers enter her canal one after the other and prompt her to let go. “CARMYYYYYYY!”

His whole chest is drenched, and his eyes are shut tight, his deft fingers rubbing tight circles around her clit with a precision that only an executive chef named Carmen Anthony Berzatto could deliver. Sydney pushed his head away and she’s left trembling with watery eyes. “I-I—i didn’t know I could do that!”

Carmy just smirks and wipes his mouth and drops his pants. Syd still can’t get over him. He has even more tattoos that can’t be readily seen on a day to day basis, he is so cut and muscled and has a cock that should be cast in 24 karat gold. Don’t sleep on the short kings.

“Turn around.” His voice leaves no room for pushback, and she can barely raise up on her knees before he’s manhandling her. He’s learned that he loves doggy with Syd. With her ass high in the air, she is getting impatient as well and reaches behind her to line him up with her slit. Carmy catches his lip in his teeth as he pushes forward and they both groan out a “fuck” that only they could wholly grasp.

On the first stroke, he’s all the way in and Syd fees his sack grazing over her entrance. They’re both in a trance. Carmy has visions of Syd cooking, smiling, cumming, revolving in his mind as well as the score of the last White Sox home game so he doesn’t bust his load quick. Syd can’t get the thought of how intense and sweet he gazes at her. How he commands their team, how his talent speaks for itself, how fucking sexy his jawline is, how big his heart is. How lucky is she? To fall in love with her idol, mentor, boss….and to have him love her back.

The bed is beginning to bounce off the wall. Their volume increases as Syd can’t hold herself up anymore and they fall into collapsed doggy with their fingers interlocked. “I’m so glad you found me. I love you Syd, I love you, I fucking—fucking love you baby!” That set Sydney off for the most expansive and overwhelming orgasm of the night, taking her beau with her over the edge. Carmy’s sweaty forehead lays on Sydney’s right temple—both of them with tears in their eyes.

Carmy kissed every finger tip until their mouths met again, both letting their waterlogged eyes flow free. “I know. I love you too Carmy. We’re never alone.”

“We’re never alone.”

[adoristsposts]

growing up is | quinn hughes

author's note; i love a hughes boy and i love a ruel song. also my keyboard has a wonky r key right now. pls bare with me and any spelling mistakes because of it. summary; in which quinn has a hard time coming to terms with the road your relationship has taken. inspired by growing up is ___ by ruel. word count;warnings; angst, mentions of drinking & smoking, mentions of sex. characters; quinn hughes x reader

Heard you moved out of town on the weekend. Understand, but I'm sad that you're leaving. Are you up making friends with the ceiling? Yeah, I know the feeling

Quinn wondered if his brother could hear his frown down the phone. He held it to his ear, refraining from a grimace as Jack described how he had just helped you move out of you first apartment. The one Quinn had helped you pick out.

I wasn't trying to let you down, I was just working my shit out. I'm sorry I didn't know how much I led you on

He could remember where your friendship had stuttered, becoming complicated and messy and unbearable. You had wanted so much more than he could give you. He blamed himself. Hockey was his life, and he had chosen his passion for it over any hope of a life with you.

Growin' up is weird, sleep with friends, break a heart

The two of you had first slept together on a Saturday night. Jack had friends 'round to hang about the firepit and Quinn was facing a self-imposed confinement to his room because of it. You, however, were his biggest opponent in that. He could hear you laughing, howling with delight. After an hour of sitting thee, waiting for you to start sulking that he wasn't there, he finally left his room. Only to loiter in the kitchen for a few minutes, but it was enough. Before long you were holding a quiet conversation with him. It only took an hour or two for the older boy to escort you back to his bedroom.

Question everything you thought

The one night stand had left his head spinning. He was far too infatuated with you. You lingered on his sheets and clothes, and he couldn't step foot in his bedroom or even glance at the clothes you had helped him discard without thinking of you. It wasn't long before it happened again. He never realised that his interest in you could spiral this far.

Split a pill, smoke a dart. Growin' up is weird, fall in love for a year

He lit up with Luke months later, the off season giving them a rare opportunity to partake in the regular activities of older brother corruption. And as Luke's faced twisted as he tried to hold the smoke in, he said "So, when are you two going to admit you're in love?" "Shut up." Quinn laughed. He reached over and plucked the blunt from Luke's fingers. "We're basically just fuck buddies." He clarified, taking a long draw of it and then rudely blowing the smoke back into his brother's face. "For like, a year." Luke pointed out. Quinn just shook his head, and so the younger boy laughed "Fine! Call it what you want. We all see how you two look at each other."

And then I disappear, wish that you were here

The conversation had really thrown him off. Quinn was now hyperaware of how he treated you. He was blowing you off, ignoring your texts. He wasn't in love with you. Definitely not. Probably not. The distance was affecting him. He spent practices wondering if you were thinking of him and games wondering if he would catch you in the crowd. He was distracted and it was throwing him off. He didn't miss the looks from his teammates. He knew he either had to call it off officially or go crawling back to you.

Growin' up is strange, get too close, push away, thinking you would do the same. New regrets, new mistakes

For a while, Quinn chose the second option. It was just sex. Right? That's what he told himself at the club with you, his brothers, and some of their friends. You had brought some of your own, chatting away happily. Quinn only noticed your distraction because he was playing his game on how long it lasted. He needed to show himself you weren't all he wanted anymore. One day you would find someone and decide your fuck buddy status was discardable. He needed to know he could still play when that happened, still live. So he picked a girl and before long his tongue was down her throat. He felt giddy with alcohol and guilt, especially so when he turned to see your back as your friends escorted a crying you out of the club.

Growin' up is strange when the one who's to blame is lookin' at the mirror, wish that you were here.

He needed a haircut. It was shaggy and dishevelled and he didn't have you to carefully trim the edges when it annoyed him anymore. Of course the thought only enraged him more as he looked at himself in the mirror. His jaw locked as he saw the physical proof of how far he had fallen since fucking it all up. He covered the mirror with a towel and booked an appointment at a barber's shop.

Get emotional at two in the morning, it's a habit, know I shouldn't be callin'. Then you let me in, is that what you wanted? Is this what we wanted?

A tough game finally breaks him. He should have been asleep, exhausted from the physical and mental work he had put in for his team. Instead he's dialling your number. To be safe he had deleted your contact, but those 10 digits were engrained in his head. When you picked up your voice was raspy with sleep. "Quinn?" "Hey." He breathed out happily. "Trev's sleeping, what's up?" He paused. "Trev? As in Trevor?" He questioned. Jack's friend, his friend, player on the team he had played days ago. "Yeah uh- I thought Jack had told you. Sorry." "Oh no, he did. Don't worry. I just uh..." He bit back the tears. The lie rolled off his tongue easier than it should've. He racked his brain for an excuse. "Tough game?" You filled in for him. "I watched. I'm sorry, Q." He held back a curse. "Yeah uh. Thanks. We should catch up." "Sure." And then the two of you fell silent. There were quiet snores on your side of the phone and Quinn was hit with the harsh reality 'Trev's sleeping' meant he was sleeping next to you. "Think we can plan it in the morning?" You said. He was reminded of all the times you would say that smilingly to him about breakfast, or how he was going to sneak you out of his room without his family noticing. "Yeah. Yeah, sure."

Now you're back in town, no, I can't come around. Are we better without the what if's and doubts. Is this it? Are we both too far gone to forget, and try again?

"Quinn? Are you listening?" Jack asked. Quinn snapped out of his thoughts about the phone call you two had shared less than a week ago. "Yeah, sorry, go on." "Anyways," Jack began again, "the two of them are having a house warming next week. Since you're in town you should come." "I don't know, Jack." Quinn sighed. "She asked if I would ask you." Oh. You wanted him there.

Oh-oh, bet I'll just disappear. Oh, will I just disappear? Wish that you were here. Growing up is

But he was too old now, a year and a half between when your relationship had started with fiery passion and clashing teeth. "I have practice, I think." He lied. "But you can tell them I'm happy for them."

[slygirl666]

august (Charlie Weasley)

Charlie x reader

notes: based on the Taylor Swift song, but I couldn't not end hopeful. Slytherin reader but the is only one reference to it not explicit but refers to sex

I have more Taylor swift Harry Potter fictions in my stuff if y'all want more

word count: 1,217

You brushed by Charlie Weasley entering potions, you looked down to control the heat that rose to your cheeks. Looking up you caught his eyes lingering.

You flushed remembering this last summer before your seventh year. 

You were out at a small beachtown with your parents, they were there less often than one would think for a family vacation so you spent much time walking around the town.

You had walked down to a more private area taking off your shoes laughing to find your toes in the sand. 

But when you got to your spot you found someone sitting there.a familiar mop of red curls, the gryffindor quidditch captain.

He turned to meet your eye. He looked over your curiosity written all over his face. When he moved you noticed a sketch book in his lap.

“Sorry I didn't think someone would be here,” you began to turn around.

“No, it's fine,” he smiled at you. “You go to Hogwarts don't you? I think we had charms together.”

You nodded at him smiling. You gave him your name.

“Its nice to properly meet you.”

You were soon meeting him in this spot every day. Talking, subtly getting closer, memorizing the way his hair curled around his face and how it carelessly fell back when he ran his finger through it.

It turned into an everyday thing to meet him out by that small hidden place. You were reading, he was drawing something facing you and you caught his eye more than once.

“What are you drawing this time?” you smiled at him placing down your book.

“You,” he shrugged like the simple word didn't just take your breath away.

“I thought you only drew dragons,” you tried to recover quickly. 

“I draw what i'd like to,” he looked up at you shyly placing the sketch book on your lap.

You inhaled sharply as you saw the way he drew the curve of your nose and the silly face you make when you concentrate too hard. 

“You made me beautiful,” you gave him a soft smile somewhere in you being lost in the drawing he moved right next to you.

“I drew you as you are,” his voice was almost a whisper and a rather large hand round a lock of your hair. 

You turned to face him, finding an intensity in his eyes you've never seen up close. Your eyes went to his lips that were twisted into a slight smirk. 

He was getting closer giving you time to pull away, but you met him there. You met slightly chapped lips and a hand found its way to your chin. 

You wanted to wrap yourself in him, he was warm and inviting. 

“Charlie,” you beathed when he pulled back his forehead against yours. “Do you want to come to my cabin?”

It was forward,stupid and might scare him off. But you wanted to take the chance what if it was only today, but also what if this could mean forever. 

He smiled, bringing his lips to yours again before getting up to go. He grabbed your hand so you could pull him with you.

Once you got to the cabin he seemed less dazed. “Your parents?”

“Out of town for the weekend.”

He pulled you to him, his arms circling your waist, a soft kiss on the front porch. “Are you sure?”

It was a good question, they could turn back now but nothing in you wanted to. 

You nodded, pressing a kiss to his lips pulling him in by his tee shirt.

Innocent kisses easily turned to gentle touches, clothes were shed frantically, it was a hunger you had never known before.

“Charlie,” you breathed as he went for your waist band. “I haven't ever done this before.”

He nodded, “we can stop.” 

“No.”

***

You pulled away from his eyes as you joined the other slytherin students on their side of the class. You took notes as diligently as you could wondering why he hasn’t talked to you. 

You needed to know what only two months ago put so much distance between the two of you. You thought he wanted you too.

Thinking back to how your parents never being present meant you and Charlie got the cabin to yourselves. 

You remembered his golden skin that stood out on your green sheets. He was laying on his stomach looking at you as you mindlessly traced his back. It took everything in you to not trace your own name on the muscle you were feeling.

“Charlie?”

“Yes love?” The nickname made your heart flutter.

“This won't be it for us, will it?”  you whispered. The doom of seventh year only weeks away.

“If you don't want it to be it won’t,” he twisted to face up,his fingers laced with yours bringing them to his mouth for a kiss.  

But it had been a lie, you walked onto the train and saw him with his friends, his arm slung around a pretty blond hufflepuff.

You walked to where you knew your friends were fighting back tears that you never allowed to slip.

You breathed you thought a week without hearing from him was reasonable but now you saw he may have had another reason.

You were young sure but everything in you knew you wanted Charlie Weasley in your life, you wanted his hands around your waist, his whispers at night.

He was everything you never knew you needed.

You hoped maybe he’ll reach out after maybe you miss understood, it was known Charlie Weasley was not intrested girls or anyone really. 

He never did.

So here you were in the October chill reading the same book you read on that beach for what had to be the tenth time since that day.

You heard a soft ‘oh’ as someone intruded on your quiet spot. 

It was Charlie.

“I'll go,” you said at the same time. You stood up almost falling from how fast you got up. You turned to walk away but a familiar hand grabbed your wrist. 

“Love?” he breathed as your face twisted into one of hurt you could fee the tears pricking your eyes. 

“What do you want Weasley” you tried to pull but his grip was firm.

“I want to know what happened to us,” you turned to meet his eyes to find hurt in them. “I thought you wanted us, I did, well I do.”

“I waited to hear from you Charlie, I understood the week before school, I did.” tears slipped, “but then I walked onto the train to find a pretty hufflepuff around you and i thought maybe you made a mistake.”

“Love, no, I meant what I said only if you wanted it.” he breathed, softly pulling you closer you followed his movement. “Penny is genuinely a friend. When you didn't reach out i thought you didn't want us.”

“Somehow, after everything all I want is us.” you managed a smile. You put your free hand into his red curls as he intertwined your fingers on the hand he used to pull you in. You laughed, pulling his face down to meet yours. 

There would be much to talk about , but right now you are grateful that Charlie wasn't a lost memory to linger on.

[wordsofoleander]

🌸 answer me, my prince!

▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀

a suave prince with all he could ever ask for. a starry-eyed editor who longed for more. two unexpected penpals from vastly different worlds.

they were undoubtedly fated to meet, but never face-to-face.

❥ 735 words ❥ tags: au, fluff, slightly angsty if you blink, very very self-indulgent, no beta we die like chads, mentions of cove, qiu, and my ol2 mc! ❥ notes: the hyperfixation was so strong i emerged from inactivity. i finished the comic this fic shares a title with last weekend and refused to move on,,, made for #baxtermcweek (day 4 prompt: au), hosted by @minthe-drawings

▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀

He doesn’t realize how long he’s repeatedly been opening and closing the empty book chest until he slams it shut a little too loud, snapping him out of his reverie. His eyes dart left and right and his ears stay alert in case he accidentally woke anyone up.

He hears nothing, so hopefully the coast is clear. He opens the book chest again, and the letter he’s waited all night for sits perfectly inside, having appeared out of thin air. 

He needs not wait to carefully examine the envelope or admire its design (far more cleaner-cut and colorful than what he's received from others over the years) as he immediately gets to reading.

—

Prince Baxter Alexander.

You’re getting better at pressuring me to reply to you faster and faster. It scares me a little.

Regarding your story, I think what you did for their sake was quite admirable. I can’t even imagine going as far as to pretend to be Cove’s fiancée for his protection, let alone for 5 years! But back to you. Since you didn’t end up falling in love with each other, does this mean Lady Ysabel’s lover is much more good-looking than you are? Would you mind getting a portrait of the Laird Qiu for your friend?

—

Silly Iri.

(You’ve never asked me for my portrait. You wound me. Nonetheless, I forgive you.)

You of all people should be able to know that not every long-standing friendship necessarily has the potential to end in romance.

—

Like us?

—

We are a bit of a special case because I do not think of Ysabel every day.

—

(Oh, what am I going to do with you?)

Ever the type to give people the answers they want to hear now, are you? You’re surrounded by far more impressive people in your daily life, people you can actually talk to and see.  I highly doubt that you think of me every day.

(PS It’s way past midnight, so I should probably get ready for bed if I don’t want to be late for work. Sleep well, my prince.)

—

Irina Clarice, my sick twisted friend.

What? Is laying my entire self bare to you, heart and soul, in the written word last night not enough for you? After all the times I’ve spent my evenings waiting for your letters?

I specifically chose this time of year to get away from my parents under the guise of avoiding the heat and helping the monks at the scriptorium. Summer, after all, is the perfect time to do something crazy, pursue a new beauty, to start anew. I confess to you that I imagined nightly sneak-outs to rendezvous with someone who’s caught my eye, but all this time, I’ve been holed up in the scriptorium’s writing room, idly and politely waiting by the book chest on my desk in anticipation to see if you have replied to what I’ve written about my latest misadventures. Before I knew it, I’d already spent the entirety of my summer getting to know you. Now I do know you, and there is no one else like you anywhere else in the world. 

Tragically, we shall never have the chance to meet, so I don’t think whatever it is I’m feeling in my chest can be called love. My fate is sealed. 

Still, whenever the sight of someone so beautiful catches my eye, thoughts of you fill my head, and I become almost upset, complaining that no matter who I meet, they will never be anything like my Iri. So, my dear friend, do not tell me that I do not think of you every day. 

I do not recall you mentioning having felt this way towards your childhood companions, nor your devilishly handsome Xander from the antique shop,  so I shall regrettably but with dignity take this as a victory.

On a lonely night on the month of heat’s end, Your Baxter Alexander.

(PS Clarence and I are departing tomorrow at dawn for Golden Grove to attend Qiu’s wedding, just in time for the beginning of fall. Bringing the book chest with me would be far too bothersome for such a short trip. I expect to be away for about three to four days.

Even so, worry not your pretty little head and get a good night’s rest without my letters to bother you, Iri. I hope you do not miss me too much.)

[kmomof4]

A Christmas Surprise: Ch. 4

It's the 🎶final chapter🎶 (yes, I know I'm really dating myself with those notes, but I don't care. I just have to...) and all the happy endings are here!!! Thank you all so much for reading and MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!

Summary: Elsa Jones enlists her friend Emma Swan to come up with a scheme to surprise her niece Alice Jones when her Papa, Killian, returns from deployment just in time for Christmas.

From the beginning on ao3/ Current ch

Rating G Total Christmas fluff ahead!

Words: Almost 6200 of 18,5K

Tagging the usuals. Please let me know if you'd like to be added or removed.

@jrob64 @teamhook @winterbaby89 @hollyethecurious @artistic-writer @xarandomdreamx @undercaffinatednightmare @the-darkdragonfly @stahlop @superchocovian @pirateprincessofpizza @tiganasummertree @anmylica @cosette141 @motherkatereloyshipper @zaharadessert @jonesfandomfanatic @ultraluckycatnd @jennjenn615 @allons-y-to-hogwarts-713 @kymbersmith-90 @booksteaandtoomuchtv @wistfulcynic @mie779 @snowbellewells @lfh1226-linda @aprilqueen84 @whimsicallyenchantedrose @pirateherokillian @elfiola @ilovemesomekillianjones @justanother-unluckysoul@poptart-cat-78 @myfearless-love @goforlaunchcee @searchingwardrobes @gingerpolyglot @gingerchangeling @djlbg @cocohook38 @cs-rylie @thisonesatellite @donteattheappleshook @deckerstarblanche @veryverynotgoodwrites @wefoundloveunderthelight @fleurdepetite @alexa-fangirl-forever @bluewildcatfanatic @qualitycoffeethings

Under the cut, unless Tumblr ate it.

The month had flown by, and Killian was due to report back in Boston in less than a week. He wasn’t anywhere near ready to say goodbye to Alice and Emma, even if it was only during the work week. Since Alice was in the middle of the school year in a school she loved, Killian didn’t see the need to bring her to Boston with him when he was planning on being in Storybrooke every weekend anyway. There was no way he was going to stay away from Emma from the first of February to mid April, when he’d finally be separating from the US Navy. 

While January had been a desperately needed respite from his normal duties in the Navy, that didn’t mean he’d been idle. He’d spent every minute he could with Emma, falling more and more in love with her as he did, in between sitting for his licensure exam that he blew out of the water, and pursuing the job opportunity in Storybrooke that looked better and better every day. Nemo had said, even before he’d submitted his résumé, that he didn’t foresee any problems bringing him on, but they were now nearly to the target date Nemo had mentioned for having an offer in hand, if he were to be hired.

Killian was making himself an afternoon snack when his phone buzzed in his pocket.

“Hello?”

“Killian?” 

Killian’s heart rate sped up when Nemo spoke on the other end of the line.

“Yes, sir,” he greeted the man that he hoped would be his boss in a few months.

Nemo chuckled and Killian’s hope soared.

“Well, there’s no real reason to beat around the bush,” the older man said. “The job is yours if you want it.”

Killian held the phone away from his mouth for a moment as he silently crowed at the ceiling and raised his fist in the air, before drawing it sharply back down in a ‘YESSSS’ gesture.

“I definitely do, Sir.” There was no need to talk to anyone about the decision. He knew he had Liam and Elsa’s full support to pursue and accept the offer when it came, and he’d had enough discussions with Alice to know that she desperately hoped he’d get the job as well. And Emma’s words on New Year’s Eve were the final green light he needed to accept the proposal.

“Excellent,” Nemo said. “You’ll be leading the department. With your experience in the Navy, I can’t think of anyone better suited to do so.”

Killian was stunned, and had to snap his hanging jaw shut before speaking. “Th- Thank you, Sir,” he stammered. “I’m honored.”

“When is your retirement date? I have it here somewhere…” Killian could hear papers rustling over the line and chuckled.

“April 10th is my last day of duty and the ceremony is on the 11th.”

“Very good. How about you start the following Monday, the 16th?” he asked. “That’ll give you a few days of downtime with your family, and to decompress a bit before we throw you in the deep end.” They both laughed at Nemo’s choice of words.

“Good thing I’m in the Navy, then,” Killian quipped. “I’m used to swimming in deep water.” Nemo laughed good naturedly.

“Did you have any other questions for me that we haven’t already addressed? The official offer will be emailed to you in a few minutes. Just for you to have for your records. Can you come in on Monday to get your paperwork squared away and meet a few folks?”

“Yes, I can, Sir,” he replied. “And I don’t have any questions. The offer is very generous, and I’m excited to be leading the team.”

“It’ll be good to have you, Killian. Come in Monday anytime after ten.”

“I will do that, Sir. Thank you.”

Killian hung up his phone and immediately checked his email. There it was. The employment offer that was going to make all his dreams come true. Killian could have leapt with joy. 

After another fist pump, Killian ran for the stairs to go tell Liam and Elsa. He would have preferred to share the news with Alice and Emma first, but Alice was at dance class for a little while longer and Emma was at her house. There was no way he’d be able to contain his excitement until he could tell them, so he had to go with who was readily available. Liam had come home early for some reason and had immediately gone upstairs without so much as saying hello when Killian passed him on his way to the kitchen. 

He came to a stop outside their bedroom to see Elsa sitting on the end of the bed, her head in her hands, Liam sitting next to her rubbing circles into her back. His excited words died on his lips completely.

Liam looked up at him. His eyes were slightly glazed, and Killian wondered if he really saw him standing there. He looked completely shell shocked, and Elsa’s posture was no better. She rubbed both of her temples, and Killian could just hear low mutterings coming from her mouth.

“Hey, guys,” he said, coming in slowly. “What’s wrong?”

Elsa raised her head, and threw it back laughing. It had a manic quality to it that made Killian even more nervous.

“Your brother,” she began, pointing at Liam who still sat on the bed, his hand on her back.

“M-, ME?!” Liam sputtered.

“Yes, you!”

“Last I checked, babe, it takes two to tango.”

Killian’s confusion suddenly cleared and he moved to the bathroom to see a little white stick sitting on the vanity. PREGNANT showed clearly in the tiny window. Killian had to press his lips together hard to keep from laughing. It may have been a lot of years since he’d had to concern himself with women’s cycles, but it wasn’t rocket science to figure out that his brother and sister-in-law had made fireworks of their own on New Year’s, and this was the result. 

“Congratulations,” Killian said, coming back in the room, smirk planted firmly on his face. He could understand their shock and surprise. Elsa was closing in on forty, and Liam was well past that milemarker. Plus, the twins were thirteen years old, and would be fourteen before their new sibling made their appearance. They obviously needed some time to themselves to come to terms with the hard left turn their lives had just taken. But he still wanted to share his own news with them. “I have some good news of my own, if you’re ready to hear it.”

That got both their attentions. Their countenances cleared and a wide smile broke on Elsa’s face.

“Did you hear from Nemo?” Liam asked.

“I did.”

Elsa let out a loud whoop and launched herself at him. But before she reached him, her hand flew to her mouth and she ran for the bathroom instead. He could hear her retching as he followed his brother who’d rushed after her. Killian stood in the doorway to see Liam hovering, and Elsa waving him away.

“This is all your fault,” she said in between heaves, a petulant whine in her voice. “Get away from me.” She disappeared behind the wall separating the toilet from the rest of the bathroom again; whatever she’d eaten earlier making another appearance. “Congratulations, Killian,” she wheezed when she was done. She made it to her feet, slapping Liam’s hand away as he tried to help her up. “Did you tell us first?” she asked. “It’s almost time to go pick up Alice! She’ll be ecstatic!” Killian turned to go, when Elsa spoke again. “Don’t say anything to the kids about this yet.” She waved her hand around in an aimless gesture. “We’ll make an announcement… sometime. Soon.”

“Just the kids?” Killian asked. 

“Ohhhh,” Elsa said, realization coming over her. “Yeah, go ahead. You can tell Emma.”

Killian smiled at them both and all but ran from the room.

~*~*~

Killian grinned widely when Alice came out of dance class. As soon as she was in her booster in the back seat with her seatbelt on, Killian turned to her.

“So, you want to stay in Storybrooke, Starfish?”

Alice’s eyes got as big as saucers. “Did you get the job at Uncle Liam’s, Papa?”

“I did,” he replied. Alice’s shout was loud enough to burst his ear drums. “He called a little bit before I came to get you. I’ll start on April 16th.”

Alice unbuckled her seatbelt and leaned across the front seat to hug him as tightly as she could in the awkward position.

“I’m so excited, Papa!” she exclaimed. “So what does that mean? What’s going to happen?”

“Just like what we’ve talked about, Starfish,” he reminded her. “I’ll be heading back to Boston on Wednesday night after you go to bed. I’ll be there Thursday and Friday before coming back Friday night to spend the weekend with all of you. Then I’ll be going back to Boston again Sunday night for the whole week, and I’ll be here on the weekends. I’ll do that every week until I retire on April 11th. You’ll be staying here while I’m there, living with Uncle Liam and Aunt Elsa and your cousins, going to school and dance and all the things you normally do.”

“And after you retire, we’ll still live with Uncle Liam and Aunt Elsa?” she asked.

Killian chuckled. “Oh, no. We’ll move into our own home after I retire.” Killian thought about the house Liam had told him about. It was still on the market, but Killian hadn’t wanted to really look at it until he had the offer in hand. And now that he did, he could begin seriously looking for a home that would accommodate him and Alice and perhaps a couple of others, as well. Killian couldn’t keep the smile off his face if he tried.

“Yayyyy!!!” Alice shouted again, bouncing in her seat.

���Now I want to go see Emma and tell her,” Killian said. “Do you want me to take you home or do you want to come with me?”

Alice bounced in her seat again. “Come with! Come with!”

Killian chuckled and turned the car on. “Alright then. Let’s go.”

No sooner had Killian brought the car to a stop in Emma’s driveway than Alice was out like a shot, shouting as she ran for the front door.

“Miss Swan! Henry! Papa got the job! We’re staying in Storybrooke!”

Killian knew his smile was ridiculously wide with how much his cheeks were hurting, but he couldn’t begrudge his daughter being the one to break the news. He caught up to her as she banged on the door, opened moments later by Henry, followed closely by Emma.

“What?” asked Henry, his own smile taking over his face.

“Papa got the job!” Alice repeated. “We’re staying in Storybrooke!”

Emma’s face looked like the sun coming out from behind the clouds after a storm. She ran for him, and he caught her in his arms, spinning her around as she hugged him tightly and showered kisses all over his face. 

Once he put Emma down, Henry and Alice scurried off to his room to play and Emma showed Killian into the living room.

“I’m so happy for you, Killian,” Emma said, sitting down next to him and holding his hand tightly.

“Me, too,” he agreed. “It’s a relief to be sure.” Killian looked her full in the face. “And now that I have the offer in hand, I can start moving forward into this next phase of my life.” He paused and scratched at the spot behind his ear, his eyes skittering away from hers for a moment. He took a deep breath, and met her gaze again, his eyes full of love and hope. “A phase that I hope I’ll have a companion for.”

Emma gasped. They had of course talked about the job and the opportunity it would present for him and Alice, but they’d been careful to steer away from what it might mean for them. But now that the job was certain… 

“Calm down, Swan. I’m not proposing.” Emma hoped she kept the surprise and slight disappointment off of her face, but wasn’t sure she succeeded when he winked at her. Or attempted to, anyway. “You’ll know when I do,” he assured her. Emma giggled. “Anyway,” he continued, “I’ll need to start looking for a house for myself and Alice to move into once I’m here permanently. And I was hoping you might join me in that search.  To help me find a house for all of us. Where we can be a family.” He paused again, giving her a moment to absorb everything he’d already shared. 

“I love you, Emma.”

A gasping sob escaped her and she grabbed him around the neck and pulled him to her until their lips joined in a joyful expression of love, both felt and reciprocated. When air became necessary, she pulled back.

“I love you, too, Killian.”

Killian surged forward and captured her lips with his own, pushing her back on the sofa until she was reclined and every part of her body was fully lined up to his. The passionate kiss they shared was making his head spin, but he knew they couldn’t go any further, not with their children in the next room. Very reluctantly, he pulled back.

“We have to stop, Swan,” he said, “As much as I don’t want to.”

“I know,” she agreed, her own reluctance on full display. 

Killian rolled off of her, tucking himself between her and the back of the sofa. “I just had a thought. What would you think about coming down to Boston the Thursday after Valentine's Day? We could have a nice dinner without fighting all the Valentines’ crowds and you could spend the night?” It was a question, and she knew exactly what he was asking. She had to admit, it was something she’d definitely thought about and he obviously had, too.

“I think that sounds like a fine idea, Captain.” She lifted up slightly and kissed him.

“Then I could take Friday off and we could do some touristy things around town before coming home a bit earlier than I normally would.” Emma smiled in agreement.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you.” 

“What?”

“You remember what I walked in on on New Year’s?”

Emma’s eyebrows shot up, her cheeks flushing with secondhand embarrassment. “Uh huh.”

“Well, Elsa’s pregnant.”

Emma’s jaw dropped and her eyes widened so much that Killian couldn’t hold back his chuckle.

“Are you kidding me?” She was stunned and couldn’t pretend otherwise.

“Nope,” Killian assured her. “She found out this afternoon. She must have called Liam to come home early. When I came up to tell them about the job, she was…” Killian trailed away, searching for the words. “A bit hysterical? Extremely annoyed? Both? Yes.” He nodded decisively. “Both is good.”

A snort laugh burst out of Emma. “Bless her so much.”

“She said I could tell you, but she doesn’t want to say anything to the kids, just yet.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Emma said, pursing her lips and miming locking them and throwing away the key. “My lips are sealed.”

Killian chuckled. “I can think of another way to keep those lips busy,” he said, eyebrows waggling.

Emma grinned at him. “A method I highly approve of,” she said, before drawing him down into another kiss, celebrating all the news of the day.

~*~*~

The next day was Saturday, and Emma and Elsa were finally enjoying their joint spa day. After the news she’d received the day before, Elsa was especially ready and thankful for it.

Once the ladies were gone, Liam joined Killian in the kitchen where he was just finishing his coffee.

“You ready?”

Killian took his last swallow and got up to put the mug in the sink. “Yep. Let’s go.”

When he had come back home yesterday after giving Emma the news, Killian asked Liam if they could go look at the house he had told him about while the ladies were occupied Saturday morning. Liam’s grin was blinding as he made all the arrangements. 

Now they were pulling up in front of a beautiful Nantucket style three story home. It was sky blue with a huge wraparound front porch and a three story turret anchoring the front facade.

Killian’s jaw hung open slightly as Liam opened the gate of the white picket fence on the edge of the sidewalk and moved toward the steps leading up to the front porch. He couldn’t take his eyes off of it as he followed Liam, almost in a daze.

Once inside, Liam took him through the house, from the basement to the finished third story that would be ideal for an office or a game room when the kids were a little older. Or, and a small smile turned up his lips at the thought, perhaps another bedroom, if needed. But as it was, the house was beautiful, inside and out, with all the room they needed for a growing family. The price was a little higher than he wanted, but it had been on the market, sitting empty, since autumn, so Killian was hopeful the sellers would be willing to come down a bit in order to get it off their hands. 

Killian’s excitement was sending his heart rate into overdrive. This house was perfect in every way, but he needed to get Emma’s input as well. If she was going to be a part of his life going forward and a part of his family in the not-too-distant future, she needed to be on board with whatever home he bought. The ladies would be done with their pampering about one o’clock; maybe he could bring her over afterward to have a look at it. 

“Could I bring Emma back this afternoon when they’re done to have a look?” Killian asked his brother. “I love it. It’s perfect. But I can’t in good conscience make an offer on a place that I would hope will be a home for all of us without getting her opinion first.”

“I completely understand, Brother. And I agree,” Liam said. “Let me let the seller’s agent know, and I’ll give you the key.”

Killian nodded and turned around in a full circle looking at the main floor of the house. He imagined moving into this beautiful home- Emma, Alice, and Henry with him- filling it with love and laughter for a lifetime.

~*~*~

A few hours later, he parked his own car in front of the house and looked at Emma in the passenger seat. Her face was very much like his when he’d seen it for the first time earlier. Killian couldn’t keep the grin off his face if he tried.

“What do you think?”

“It… it’s gorgeous,” she breathed. “Have you…?”

“Swan! No!” he exclaimed, completely shocked she would even ask him that. “I’d never make that kind of decision or make a purchase like this without talking to you first.” He took her hands in his and looked her right in the eyes. “Not if we’re going to have a future together.”

Emma’s heart completely melted. She already knew she loved him, but this was just another confirmation that her heart and soul had found a haven in his. She reached up and pulled him to her in a kiss that he eagerly reciprocated and that quickly turned heated.

“Come on,” he said, pulling away some moments later. “Let me show you the inside.”

Emma followed Killian through the gate and up the front steps. It was the most beautiful house she’d ever seen, the wraparound porch a feature that she’d always wanted in a home. When she’d bought the house she lived in now, her budget didn’t come anywhere close to affording a house with a porch like that. But, she had to try to keep her excitement in check. Killian obviously wanted her honest opinion on the house that he hoped would be a home for all of them, and she couldn’t let her immediate affection for the exterior drive that opinion. The house would have to meet certain thresholds in order to be something they could all live in for many years to come.

And as Killian took her through the house, it became quite obvious that it met every single one of those thresholds. A wide open floor plan and tall ceilings weren’t necessary, but were very welcome additions to the generous square footage, ample storage, kitchen and bath upgrades that thrilled Emma to no end, large bedrooms and even enough room for any future children they might have.

Emma looked at Killian, a soft smile on her face as she imagined moving into this beautiful home with Killian, Henry, and Alice by her side. It was everything she could have hoped and dreamed of.

“So what do you think, Swan?” Killian asked, love and hope in his eyes.

“I love it, Killian,” she said sincerely. She stepped toward him and took his hands in hers, her gaze meeting his. “I can see us, all of us, living here for many, many years. Many happy years.”

The relieved grin on Killian’s face, made her own smile bloom before she drew him into another kiss. When they separated, Killian wrapped his arms around her as they both turned and looked out the back window to the large backyard where the kids would no doubt spend many hours playing.

“I didn’t even ask,” Emma began. “What are they asking for this place?”

“It’s a little more than I can afford,” Killian said, “but it’s been sitting empty for four months, so I’m hoping they’ll be a little more motivated to come down on their asking price.”

“With my income, you could probably afford it,” she suggested.

“Yes, but we’re not married yet, and that will create all kinds of complications that we really don’t need to deal with right now,” he explained, kissing her on the tip of her nose.

“Hmmm, yes, that’s true,” she agreed, smiling at the tender gesture.

“I’ll talk to Liam, make them an offer, and see what they say,” he continued. “Wouldn’t it be great if we could have this squared away before I go back to Boston?” The hope in his eyes made her smile and matched the joy in her own.

“Yes, it really would.”

~*~*~

Retirement day had finally arrived. His last two months, one week, and two days of duty were over and all that was left now was the ceremony that would signify his official separation from the United States Navy. He couldn’t believe how quickly the time had gone. Living it day to day, he didn’t think this day would ever get here, but looking back, the time really had flown by.

The offer he’d given Liam for the house back at the end of January had been eagerly accepted by the sellers, even at significantly below their asking price. His offer wasn’t unfair, but he’d fully expected them to counter, and when they didn’t, he was stunned. They’d closed on the house on Saturday just a couple of weeks ago, to accommodate Killian’s work schedule, and he and Emma had been busy both weekends since, moving boxes and some furniture into it, so they’d be able to fully move in tomorrow. The movers would be collecting the rest of his and Alice’s furniture in Boston tomorrow and bringing it all to Storybrooke. He hoped to be fully moved in and unpacked before he started at Storybrooke Real Estate on Monday.

After Emma visited him in Boston in February, they figured it was time for him to meet her parents. Mary Margaret Swan had immediately welcomed him into their family with open arms. It took just a little longer to win David over, but now the bromance between him and David flourished after Killian assured him of the honor of his intentions.

He peeked through the curtain to see all his loved ones arriving en masse and making their way to the front of the room. As the family members of the retiree, they had reserved seating. Seeing Emma there surrounded by his family and hers, sudden inspiration hit him. There was only one thing missing that would make this day truly perfect. When she spotted him looking at her through the curtain, he signaled her to join him. She turned to her mother for a moment and then started toward the podium and backdrop.

Emma came around the edge of the curtain where Killian waited for her to join him before gathering her into his arms and planting a kiss on her lips that wasn’t nearly enough, but would have to be, given their present location.

“Emma,” he said, sinking down on one knee, “I know you probably didn’t expect this today, but when I saw you come into the room, all I could think of was that I wanted you by my side today as my fiancée, not my girlfriend.” He pulled a small, black velvet box out of his dress blues pocket. Emma gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. “These last four months since we met have been the best of my life. I love you more than words can express, more than I ever believed possible. Would you make me the happiest man alive and consent to be my wife?”

Emma’s eyes were filled with tears and she could barely see straight to nod and hold her hand out for him to put the beautiful round diamond solitaire on her finger. She knelt in front of him, taking his face in her hands. The tears escaped her eyelids and rolled down her cheeks as she pulled him to her and kissed him with all the love in her heart.

When they pulled back, she touched her forehead to his, tears still streaking down her face.

“I love you, Killian,” she whispered. “And yes, I want nothing more than to be by your side today as your fiancée.” They were both quiet for a moment, just enjoying the love between them. “I should probably go back out there. They’ll be wondering what’s going on.”

Killian chuckled. “Don’t say anything. Let’s see if anyone notices. If they don’t, we’ll announce it at the reception.”

Emma smiled her agreement. They got to their feet, and Emma moved around the curtain to go back to her seat. Killian peeked through the drape again and saw her sit down on the front row, Elsa on one side of her, Mary Margaret on the other. Killian grinned and pulled back from the drape only to hear twin squeals from the other side of the curtain. He moved back, a wide grin spreading on his face as he saw his fiancée showing off her ring to her best friend and mother.

It was going to be quite a party this afternoon, and he couldn’t wait.

~*~*~  

Emma sat before the vanity on her wedding day, watching as her mother gathered her hair into an elegant bun at the nape of her neck and tucked the comb holding her veil underneath.

Everything was ready for her to join her life with the love of her life, Killian Jones.

She rose from her stool and turned to face her mother, best friend, and daughter.

“Oh, Mama,” Alice breathed. “You look so beautiful.”

Emma smiled at the child, her heart swelling with love for her. Once school let out last May, Emma and Killian had both initiated adoption proceedings for Alice and Henry, with Emma’s adoption of Alice going through in August and Killian’s adoption of Henry finalizing just last month due to residency requirements.

“Thank you, baby,” Emma said, opening her arms for her hug. She felt the tears fill her eyes as she looked at her mom and Elsa. Elsa’s own eyes glistened with tears as well. She was radiant in the ice blue gown she wore. You couldn’t even tell that she’d given birth three months ago to a daughter, Lila Emily Rose. 

When they first talked about dates for the wedding, Killian had suggested August, thinking that would be plenty of time for the planning, but Elsa, Mary Margaret, and Emma herself had loudly protested that it wasn’t nearly enough time. Plus there was the fact that Elsa didn’t want to be walking down the aisle as Matron of Honor nine months pregnant. And so December 15th was chosen, one year to the day since their meeting.

“You look so beautiful, too.” She stepped back, holding Alice’s hands, then releasing one as Alice spun a perfect pirouette under her arm, the skirt of her dress, a smaller version of Elsa’s, flaring out before settling back around her ankles.

“Your father is gonna cry,” Mary Margaret said, completing the teary eyed trio. “We’re so happy this day has finally come. You’re marrying Killian, joining together to create a new family.” Mary Margaret sniffed, and Elsa handed her a handkerchief. 

“One year ago today, I saw something that I’d despaired of ever seeing- my brother-in-law, Killian Jones, noticing a woman,” Elsa said, her smile nostalgic as she remembered Emma and Killian’s first meeting. “He’d been alone for six years, but he was smitten with you from that very first moment, and my heart rejoiced. And now here you are, a year later, about to join your lives together, forever.” Mary Margaret handed the handkerchief back to Elsa when a tear escaped and ran down her face. Emma chuckled and then wiped away her own tears. 

Outside the room, they could hear the organ beginning to play Sheep May Safely Graze, the last piece before Mary Margaret was to be seated. They moved from the Bride’s Room to the vestibule, where Emma’s dad, Liam, and Henry waited for them.

Elsa and her mother took their places on either side of Liam, and Alice took Henry’s arm, making Emma’s eyes fill with tears yet again. Henry was growing up much too fast. Holding his arm out to his best friend and now sister, just like a little gentleman, made her realize just how quickly time passed. She shouldn’t be able to see glimpses of the man he would one day become, not yet. She looked at her loved ones, meeting their eyes in turn, accepting the love and joy they all had for her on this special day. Having them all here on the happiest day of her life- loving and supporting her, loving and supporting them- made the day perfect. In every way.

“I’ve waited for this day for years,” David whispered. “In the sense that I hoped you’d one day find someone to love. Someone to love you and Henry the way you deserve. Someone to walk beside you through all the ups and downs of life. Killian is everything a father could want for his daughter and I cannot be happier.” The smile on his face was happy and sad at the same time, and Emma could no longer hold back her tears. She moved toward him, hugging him tightly, his hand coming up to cradle the back of her head.

“Thank you, Daddy,” she whispered. “I love you.” 

“I love you, too, sweetheart.”

Emma pulled back and took a deep breath, accepting the now ruined handkerchief from Elsa to dab at her own eyes. Pachebel’s Canon in D was beginning, and Liam led Mary Margaret from the vestibule into the sanctuary. She carried two tall taper candles that she’d place on either side of the Unity candle Emma and Killian would light toward the end of the ceremony. In the absence of Killian’s own mother, he’d asked her if she would step in and fill the role.

Only a few minutes later, Liam and Elsa walked down the aisle, followed by Henry and Alice.

Emma felt David turn toward her, so she raised her eyes to meet his. Tears glistened in them and his smile trembled slightly at the corners.

“This is the… third best day of my life,” he said. “First was marrying your mother. Second was the day of your birth. And now today.”

Emma had nothing to say, so she simply rose up on her tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek. 

“Are you ready to give me away, Daddy?”

David nodded. “Let's go.”

The doors to the sanctuary opened as the opening bars of the Trumpet Voluntary began to play. She and David entered, and her eyes immediately landed on Killian. He wore his Navy Captain dress blue uniform, and Emma caught her breath at how handsome he was. 

She couldn’t take her eyes off of him as they continued moving forward. He beamed as he watched her, his smile lighting up his eyes and his entire face with profound love and unspeakable joy.

When they reached Killian and Liam, the four of them faced the vicar. 

“Welcome everyone, to the wedding of Emma Swan and Killian Jones,” he began, addressing the small congregation. He turned his eyes upon David. “Who gives this woman in marriage?”

“Her mother and I do,” David answered. He turned to Emma and placed a tender kiss on her cheek before turning to Killian and placing Emma’s hand in his. With a nod and smile of approval and affection, David turned and took his place next to Mary Margaret to watch the rest of the ceremony. 

Emma, Killian, Elsa, and Liam followed the vicar up the steps to the stage before he turned to them and began the ceremony.

Killian couldn’t take his eyes off of his bride. She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, period, but today, she was literally breathtaking. She wore a simple gown in a slimline style with a sleeveless deep v-neck wrapped bodice with a satin skirt. Her hair was pulled back into a soft bun, her veil trailing down from the bun almost to the floor. He’d never beheld a more exquisite sight. He missed what all the vicar was saying, simply soaking in the vision that was his almost wife, until he announced it was time for the vows.

“Emma Swan,” he breathed. “I think I may have fallen in love with you on the very day we met. I knew that day my life was about to change for the better, and that sentiment has been proven correct many, many times over. You’ve made my life complete, Emma. I can’t imagine loving you more than I do right now, although I know I will as we walk through life together, because my love for you has grown every single day already. This day do I pledge thee my troth, to share everything in life, the good and the bad. No matter what the future holds, I want you to be certain that I will always, always be by your side. I love you, Emma.”

A hiccupping sob escaped Emma’s lips as she prepared to share her own vows.

“Killian, the day I met you, I had a feeling that there were many wonderful things to come. To look forward to, having you in my life. And it was hardly any time at all before I knew that I loved you and wanted to spend my life with you. Killian, you are the best man I know and I love you deeply. Truly. This day, in the sight of God and our dearly loved friends and family, I promise to love you. To honor you, respect you, cherish you. Walking through life together, the ups and the downs, will be a great adventure with you by my side. Until death do us part.”

Killian swallowed heavily. “And I promise to love, honor, respect, and cherish you, Emma, until death do us part.”

Once the vows were spoken, they exchanged rings, solid white gold bands, the vicar speaking a blessing over the rings. As they moved to light the Unity candle, the vicar read from the Book of Ruth, the passage speaking of never leaving the other, as long as they both shall live.

They returned to the vicar at the foot of the stage where he proudly proclaimed, “Killian, you may kiss your bride!”

Killian grinned, his eyebrows waggling as he took Emma in his arms and dipped her back before joining his lips to hers. The congregation around them erupted into shouts and cheers, but they were oblivious to all of it, simply soaking in the love they had for one another as their lips moved together. 

Long moments later, he finally raised them back up and they turned toward all their loved ones as the vicar announced them.

“Presenting Captain and Mrs. Killian Jones!”

The congregation again erupted in cheers as Emma and Killian proceeded back down the aisle, followed by Liam and Elsa, then Henry and Alice.

And they all lived happily ever after.

The End

~*~*~

Thank you for reading and sharing! I'd love to know what you think! Merry Christmas!!!

[nitro-nova]

Birthday devblog

I'll post a small oops large gamedev update on Combat Nightsuit Saboteur. My last post about it was in April.

During that month, I started working on concept art for the character and sprite.

Starting to get into May, I was working on art for interior areas like you're seeing above, and was starting to develop an idea for the art direction overall. Developing art assets like these while maintaining a full-time job is pretty difficult (every game's a miracle blah blah blah), so I had to accept that my pace would be slow.

I was doing some basic level designs here and testing them out with Clem while taking notes on feedback. I was researching platformers as I was doing this, so it took a little time.

In July, I wanted to find ways to mitigate how long it took to develop art assets. I started working on a prototyping art style so that I could have something in place. I also made a tool for calculating pixel art columns and gutter widths.

I also started taking notes on what lightness values of the character to avoid using in my assets, so that she doesn't blend in too easily. I took a break afterward to visit family with Clem.

I resumed work in August and started sketching out ideas for individual rooms.

I use GIMP for pixel art, but one of the unfortunate gripes I have is that its color palette mapping produces inconsistent artifacts. To combat this, I employed Dither Machine for more consistent pixel gradients.

By September though, I was getting frustrated with my pace, and a burning thing in the back of my mind was that even though the scope was small, the game wasn't fun or interesting, and I wasn't even making progress in the one level I was planning.

I mean, up until this point, I was trying to be kind to myself. I had a full-time job and was sleeping 6-7 hours a night so I could use the time after 10 hour shifts to draw pixel art and watch videos. I was making time for friends and going out with them.

Maybe I have an attention disorder? I do watch more YouTube than I really should (generally I try to use it for listening to music while I create, but I admit I sometimes get sidetracked by bops too lol). I imagine getting suboptimal sleep every day and having to catch up on weekends doesn't help.

I decided in September to change the project. An increase in scope, because I needed to make something I was more familiar with. Six characters, but you only play as one. No longer a jump-and-shoot, but a Strider-like, with an added focus on a beat-em-up combat system. I spent a few days writing backstories and getting the setting more in order, which would help me develop assets with more direction to it.

I refined my character sprite some more, started working on animations.

This shift in design was giving me a second wind, and I knew that I needed a more-than-basic platforming system. I was also promoted at my job, which came with a schedule change (I also got married lol, October was a big month). I decided to adjust my sleep schedule to 8-9 hours a night, and dedicate a single hour per work day for chores. As of today I am much healthier.

October was a major programming month. I started development on what I do best -- a Strider-like platforming engine.

Running, jumping, walljumping, corner grabbing, and ceiling grabbing were implemented. By the end of October, I was finished and successfully deployed the code into the project. To celebrate, I played around with anime color palettes and tried out my art style with a Blender project.

God it looks badass, I don't regret spending time on that art, after all. Despite how much I suffer, productivity-wise, it's stuff like this that motivates me to push on and create. It sounds a bit silly, but this image saved this project from death, because I can't let go of how much I dream of making games and animations.

If I really do finish this project, I can only imagine how much the world would like it. I just know I'm cooking, here. I've been thinking about inviting friends to help (the promotion came with an income increase, but it mainly helps me afford things more comfortably, sadly). I know for sure I need a project manager who may be able to secure full-time development funding, a Kanamori of sorts, to help develop a schedule and try to stick to it. Artists and quality checkers would be amazing, too.

November's development is smaller, but that's because it focused a ton on figuring out a pixel art animation process.

A/B Pose Sketches: Sketching multiple before after poses, like the ones my friend Rawri drew.

Selection, mainly determining which A and B sketches look best.

Joint-Keyframing: Those are the head and joint versions you see me make, with the pink helmet.

In-Betweens: Planning how the motion is meant to carry out.

Limb Shaping: Adding the limb silhouettes

Detailing: Adding the blues, golds, silvers, and black parts. Includes a check for any details I missed.

And that's where I'm currently at!

Edit: Actually, no, I need to say that people HAVE been helping me, here's who I'm shouting out:

Clementine - My wife! Thank you for loving me and supporting me and buying groceries and cooking meals for me and working hard. Genuinely I could never make progress without you helping me.

Mechanicalrot - Our partner! You also help give advice on projects and cook sometimes. I love you as well!

Robin and Eli - My family. Thank you for also buying groceries and helping me with dishes/trash and for your support. (strange-alchemy gets a shoutout for being supportive as well <3)

Saphica - Additional moral support and partner in crime. Thank you for reviewing my artwork and helping me stay positive even when I was feeling rough.

Rawrienstein and AndromedaZach - Amazing friends lending their art experience to help improve my art and animations. It means a lot that you hope for my success.

Rose - Another wonderful friend, thank you for having us over and cooking and showing me movies.

Jaycee - Wonderful friend, thanks for liking my posts and supporting me, too. :]

[ambiguouspuzuma]

Constructive feedback

I'm a compulsive feed-backer. At least, I think that's the right word. It feels like the verb might be in the wrong place - one who backs feeds, perhaps, like a supporter of TV channels - but I'm not sure of the alternative. Back-feeder? Or does that make me sound like one of those oxpeckers - you know, the birds that ride around on kudu or wildebeest - or something else entirely? You can let me know, if you like. I certainly would.

I mean that I give feedback. Any chance I get, really - and you'd be surprised how many there are. The pop-up that you'd usually swipe away; the installation screens you scramble through. Am I willing to spare two minutes for a quick survey? You bet. Rate us in the app store? Don't mind if I do.

Sometimes they don't even ask for it. There's just a company email address on the leaflet, a pause in the spiel, and suddenly I'm giving more feedback than a microphone within an inch of its own speaker. I write letters to global corporations; I phone back their call centres; I scribble on marketing flyers and return them to sender. A compulsion, as I said. It's a problem, except that I'm not sure that it is.

I like to feel that, in my own small way, I'm improving the world. Most people don't have the patience for all of that work, and so it's down to the likes of me, the back-feeders, to spot the errors; to suggest the improvements; to do the silent work that makes everything we use a little bit better. I identify bugs, and I swat them away before they have the chance to land on your salad. You're welcome.

By and large, I find myself ignored, and that's okay. I'll occasionally feed that back in turn, for important stuff - when the council take too long to acknowledge my letters about potholes, for instance - but otherwise I'm happy to work in the shadows, offering up my free advice without the hope of recognition or reward.

They don't all have to heed my words. I know that I can be pernickety, a pedant, a perfectionist. Not all of my suggested improvements can be prioritised, and I appreciate that resources might be better spent elsewhere. I just give them the information, and leave the best course of action for them to decide.

That is, I used to. Until the start of this month, when I left a restaurant a two star review, and walked past later to find it had closed down. I felt guilty, wondering if I was responsible, although I hadn't thought my words too harsh; perhaps the proprietor had thinner skin than that which lay across the surface of his soup, I thought.

But then I called the local pet store's attention to the uneven drawing of its parking bays, and they vanished too: not even the shop, just the car park. I tried it with a park I visited, which needed more benches in the shade, and suddenly there weren't any benches, or even any shade. It felt like a petulant response, co-ordinated across the various powers that be, sick and tired of my complaining. It was like I was provoking them, or they were trying to provoke me.

I tried to cut back, of course, but you can't just quit the habit of a lifetime. I decided to redirect my energies elsewhere, starting a blog to vent my thoughts about life more generally, rather than risk upsetting any more people: I moaned about the way it always seemed to rain on the weekend, or how quickly my knees and back had gone with age, and suggested flaws in natural systems, like the strange way that animals and plants with warning colours now looked more attractive to humans, particularly young children.

One day I received a parcel in the post. I hadn't been expecting anything, and my immediate thought was that the postal service had delivered to the wrong address, despite my previous corrections, but it was my name on the label. Inside the box, I found another note addressed to me, atop a set of neatly folded golden robes.

"Go on, then," it read, in a language I shouldn't have been able to read, and therefore couldn't check for typos. "Let's see you do any better."

[lovesosweeet]

better left unsaid // cth

chapter three

in which orion has leukemia, and calum doesn’t know.

chapter zero, one, two

july 13, 2018

los angeles, california

orion

—

There are just over two weeks until Calum leaves for tour. It'll be the longest time we've spent apart since before we knew each other.

Sure, the first few months of our "relationship" — if you could've even called it that then — were spent apart, but I saw him almost every weekend for the first couple of months I was in Spain, and then once I was back in LA, he returned shortly thereafter and the rest is history.

All that to say, I'm devastated that he's leaving. I keep trying to tell myself it'll be the perfect chance to focus on LSAT prep and really do well in my classes this semester, but it's hard when the one person you want to talk to at the end of every shitty day and the one who I want to tell about every essay I get a 100 on will be gone for four months. Living together has put us in such close quarters that any time apart feels stiflingly lonely.

Today hasn't been that different. We both woke up around the same time, but I stayed in bed while he got up and got ready to head to rehearsal. He took Duke out so I didn't need to get up until I wanted to, made himself some semblance of a breakfast sandwich, and gave me a kiss goodbye.

I didn't really want to get out of bed this morning. For some reason, I've been feeling sick almost every other week it seems. My throat is sore, my body just aches, and I feel feverish. It's not flu season, which makes me assume it's just a cold, but I don't understand why it keeps coming back, so I made an appointment at my doctor's office to see if it's a sinus infection or something that we can make go away with antibiotics.

I got dressed in a random t-shirt from Calum's pile of "not quite dirty, but also not clean" clothes and a pair of cotton shorts, washed my face, and then left the house. I stopped at Starbucks for a coffee on my way to the doctor, just to feel a bit more awake, even though I know I'll inevitably feel like a zombie.

When I get to the doctor's office, it's a blur of blood draws, questions from nurses and techs, blood pressure cuffs and other measurements. I've never liked going to the doctor, and today is no different. Normally, I'd have asked Calum to come with me, but with the tour so close, I didn't want to take away from an important workday — even though I know he would've come with me if I asked.

Finally, after waiting in the sterile exam room for what feels like a few hours but was likely only a maximum of 15 minutes, my doctor and a nurse enter the room.

"Good morning, Orion!" He cheerily says.

"Good morning," I say, far less enthusiastically.

"Sorry to hear you're feeling a bit under the weather. Just so you know, we're not seeing anything too alarming just yet, but we're still waiting on your blood panel to get analyzed by the lab." He's rubbing a fresh blob of hand sanitizer into his skin while the nurse makes notes on her pad. It all feels very impersonal, part of a protocol, and almost like no one has thought to even talk to me.

"I wanted to ask," he continues. "Have you ever had a sinus infection?"

"I've had one, yeah."

"What did that feel like for you? Did it feel like this?"

I think back, trying to remember. I'd gotten one after weeks of country-hopping, following Calum around on tour. The plane germs and travel fatigue had gotten to me. I felt horrible, but the main thing I remember was how badly my face hurt. "It was different, I had a lot of sinus pain, this is just more generally... sick? Does that make sense?"

My doctor nods, and the nurse stays silent while she keeps writing. "I understand. Well, given your symptoms and since we haven't heard back from the lab on your blood panel, I'm going to go ahead and prescribe you some antibiotics. While we aren't sure that it's a sinus infection, I'd rather go ahead and treat you for that than wait and do nothing and find out this was our best bet all along."

I nod, my mouth feeling too dry to speak.

The nurse coughs from out of nowhere, and then she and the doctor exchange a few glances that seem to have a lot more meaning than I could ever understand. Then the doctor turns back to me.

"We also noticed that bruise along your collarbone. Is that kind of bruising normal for you?"

Involuntarily, my eyes widen. I can't believe he's just asked me that. "Uh," I start, my cheeks hot. "My uh, boyfriend... it's, it's not a bruise." I cough. I guess a hickey is a form of a bruise, but still.

The doctor's facial expression is unreadable but both he and the nurse then share more glances. "Got it, we're just trying to make sure your chart has all of your symptoms."

—

I leave the office $150 poorer and with a prescription for an antibiotic that I don't think is going to help me, and no answers in hand. The LA traffic makes my drive home take almost an entire hour, and all I want to do is take a nap.

I pull into the parking garage at the apartment building that Calum insisted was the right choice, parking in my space next to Cal's empty one. Our cars stick out in the garage, both older, beat up, and not luxury brands.

Living here wasn't my choice, at least not fully. I'd found us a building where a lot of other UCLA students live, mostly the richer ones whose parents pay for everything, closer to campus, but Cal didn't feel like he'd be able to live there with its central location and lack of security. He doesn't get followed often, but when he does, he doesn't like to cause too big of a scene.

The building we do live in, though, I can barely afford to pay a quarter of the rent for. Cal insisted it was fine, he could pay the whole rent himself without issue, but I didn't feel right letting him do that. We have it worked out so that all I do is pay utilities and occasionally a few hundred toward the actual rent, which even still I have a hard time letting happen, but Calum basically refused to let me set up my account on the autodraft payment for the rent.

I know that sounds like something lots of people would love, not needing to pay any part of the rent, I just hate feeling like I'm taking advantage of Calum and our situation. He kept saying that my education was the most important thing and once I'm making money and out of debt I can contribute as much as I want.

Regardless, I feel out of place parking my shitty car and wearing a worn out, partially dirty t-shirt where I live. We've been here for almost a year and we still don't have any friends in the building. I've gotten pretty familiar with Ron, the main security officer in the lobby, but aside from that, we're only met with snobby glares and passive aggressive elevator encounters.

Ready to just go lay down, I enter the lobby, swiping my fob and dodging a neighbor wearing a suit who’s angrily talking on the phone. Ron is behind the desk in the lobby, as usual.

“Morning,” I call to him. He waves happily back and I keep walking. Normally I’d stop and chat, ask if he’d like me to bring him a coffee, but I just don’t have it in me today.

When I get up to our apartment, Duke is waiting for me at the door. I sigh, wishing I could just go lay down, but he needs to go out. I feel like a zombie as I trudge through the apartment, grabbing his leash and poop bags, hooking him into his harness and then going back to the elevator.

By the time I’ve taken Duke out and gotten back to the apartment, my whole body aches and begs to rest. I turn on the TV and just pick something random from Netflix for white noise.

“C’mere,” I tell Duke, curling into a ball under the massive fuzzy blanket Crystal got me for Christmas last year. I pat a space on the couch next to me, and he hops up, nestling next to me and quickly settling.

I sigh, finally at ease, and lean my head back against the pillows on the couch.

read next chapter

—

a/n: guys i’m so happy people are reading this 🥹 shorter chapter. just leading up to the good stuff!!

[2nd2ndalto]

Fall Down With You

Chapter 7

(previous chapter)

The little house is dark and quiet as Will lets himself in, just the light over the stovetop glowing. Nico always leaves it on for him when he knows his husband will be home late.

Will feels a twinge of guilt as he notes the row of bottles neatly lined up on the drying rack, the can of formula open on the counter. The pink booster seat wiped clean at the kitchen table, crayons and colouring pages shoved out of the way.

Days at home with two small children can be grueling, Will knows. When their daughter was born, they’d both agreed that it made more sense for Nico to take some time off from his studies than for Will to leave his job. Though he knows Nico doesn't regret their choices, Will’s never been able to completely reconcile the toll it takes on his husband’s time and energy, nor his own nagging guilt at not being able to do more.

It hasn’t been a particularly easy day at the hospital, either. Will had made a quick detour for fast food on the way home, in the hopes of potentially being able to drop into bed even a few minutes sooner than he might have otherwise.

He toes off his shoes, hanging his bag and jacket at the back door. He makes his way through the kitchen, coming to a stop as he enters the living room.

The scene there makes his heart swell in his chest, a slow smile blooming. It’s so at odds with the rest of his long, tiring day that he just wants to sink into it, press it into his mind and hold it with him throughout the rest of his working days this week.

Nico’s been particularly adamant about following safe sleep practices - babies on their backs on flat surfaces, no bedding - even though Will’s fairly certain that Nico’s lucid dreaming abilities could afford him a little leeway. Especially considering that neither of their children have shown the slightest interest in sleeping safely.

This is the compromise, then - Will’s entire little family sprawled out across the carpet in the living room. A stranger might think they had happened upon a crime scene, but Will has come home to the same sight several nights this week.

The baby, Emmett, is expertly swaddled, fast asleep with Nico’s hand resting palm-up on his belly - likely the only way Emmett would consent to unconsciousness. Nico is lying as far from Emmett as he possibly can be whilst still maintaining physical contact. Never to be left out, Nora brackets Nico’s other side. The toddler likely began the night snuggled under her father’s arm, but is currently stretched out perpendicular to the others, her foot pressed into the side of Nico’s neck. Her nightgown is twisted around her bare legs, her little toes painstakingly painted in ten different shades, like tiny jellybeans. Will recognizes Nico’s pedicure style immediately.

Will lets the warmth of the scene settle his bones just a moment longer before carefully tip-toeing in the direction of the shower. Nico sighs and shifts as Will draws near, blinking tired eyes open. He smiles when he catches sight of his husband, raising his free hand in a sleepy wave.

“Hey,” Will whispers, soft as he can, crouching at his husband’s head. “Everyone okay?”

Nico nods. “All good. You?” He doesn’t seem at all surprised by the small foot pressed into his jugular.

Will just rolls his eyes and Nico gives him a sympathetic look, no words required.

“I’m gonna shower. Want me to take over afterwards? Or keep you company?” Will asks softly, brushing a strand of dark hair off his husband’s forehead. He lets his hand rest on Nico’s head a moment longer. Sometimes, these days, it feels as if it’s been years since they’ve spent any length of time in each other’s presence, or in the comfort of each other’s touch.

Nico shakes his head. “Nah, I got it covered. You go get some sleep in a real bed.”

“‘Kay. Love you.” Will bends closer to press his lips to Nico’s forehead, and then to his mouth, when Nico tilts his head up.

“Love you too,” Nico whispers.

“Hey, I have the whole weekend off. No call or anything,” Will adds, sitting up again.

Nico beams, brilliant in the dark. “Now I love you even more.”

And it’s a little stupid, isn’t it? The way Will’s stomach still sometimes takes a leap like he’s launched himself off a cliff when Nico smiles at him. But he’s not complaining.

“Wanna go on a date?” Will grins.

“I’ll go anywhere with you,” Nico says sweetly, and Will breathes out a soft laugh.

They both know it’s more likely that Will will take over baby duty while Nico tries to catch up on some much-needed sleep. But it’s okay. They’ve got time.

(next chapter)