#please know i could absolutely write a ten page paper about this man

[moonlight-prose]

Tommy Miller. Please hit me with all the psychoanalyzing/breaking his ass down you've got because you're the queen of writing him imo. I'm ready 🍿

(thank you! 💖)

tommy miller thoughts & musings

note: the queen???? you're so fucking sweet my darling raven. i have been saving this for when the brain rot returns, but i have to be honest - the brain rot for this man never leaves. so here we go!

There's never been a man more devoted to the concept of love - even if it's muddled in his mind. He treasures his family. He'd die for them. That fact remained true the day he turned sixteen and realized how Joel stepped in.

How he helped in making sure the little brother who followed him around everywhere (both in awe and to be a constant annoyance) become the man he was today. Joel Miller. The legend he one day hoped to make proud.

The fact of death - of family and love - hardened in his mind in time with his heart. Something broke the night Sarah died. Fractured his soul at the sight of his big brother - his hero - lying in the blood of his niece, begging for her to live.

The imaginary concept of dying for his family...now suddenly a reality.

Tommy Miller is a man who uses humor to hide the dying light in his brown eyes. He's the first to offer a smile, a helping hand, the promise of hope. Because what little remained in his mind was barely enough for him. Yet he gave it away without question.

The lessons of his big brother live in his mind - a tether to the life he once had. This is his commandment; the rules he's set for himself to keep a piece of the old Tommy alive. Though the world may have gone to shit, he refused to go down with it. Even as Joel and him committed atrocities - destroyed the humanity in their souls - he fought to keep himself in tact.

Tommy Miller is a man who is scared of so much yet keeps it to himself. What's the fucking point of making a spectacle of his fears? Who would care to listen? He'd been on this shattered road for so long he forgot that he was human. That he deserved light and love and a chance to redeem the sins of his past.

He's afraid of dying.

He's reminded of it every day he opens his eyes.

But he won't reveal the real horror that is buried in the depths of his heart. The darkness he hates with a bitterness on his tongue. Oh how he wished he could spit it out like tobacco. Cleanse himself in the River Styx and resurface anew.

Tommy Miller is a man who is is afraid of dying.

Tommy Miller is a man who wants to die.

Tommy Miller...is a man who wants to love and be loved in the horrendous tumultuous landscape of hell he's found himself in.

He cares with his entire body. Loves with every part of his heart and soul. He gives and gives and gives, hoping that it would be enough to suffice for the broken parts of a hollow man. If you look close - inspect the makeup of who he is - you'd see the pain.

You'd catch a glimpse of the mania behind the curtain.

So he offers himself up on a silver platter (everything he believes you want) to deter you from pushing down the wall holding him together. He begs for more, silently fighting against the ache of need that sprouts deep. Yet assures you that he's fine. He's okay.

He's alive.

That's what he wants.

And that would have to be enough; knowing that to ask for more in this world, was to dip himself in the greed he knew couldn't be appeased.

Tommy Miller.

A man who gave the world too much. Yet managed to smile in spite of his grief.

[raccoon-eyed-rebel]

Part 7 - Spirits, sorrow and surprise

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Part 6 -- Part 8

Summary: The boys celebrate the beginning of their Christmas break with a drink (or several) at their regular bar.

Warnings: (Vague) mention of blowjob, consumption of alcohol, fluff, some angst? Mentions of domestic violence. Tell me if I'm missing any.

Word count: 4.2k

A/N: This one was fun to write! Lots of interactions between the boys, intro of the next girlfriend, and for anyone who's been curious; by the end of this you'll know how Sy and Dani know each other.

Timeline-wise we're in the weekend after the first 6 chapters. I'd planned for ch7 to be a Charles-chapter, but I have 5 Christmas chapters and a NYE party to write and post (not including this one) meaning I'm hopelessly behind. Please forgive me.

@peaches1958 @keanureevesisbae Sorry if I'm keeping y'all busy ;)

“Fuck me, one more quiz from Laferrier and I’m switching majors,” Charles groaned as he and Walker left the lecture hall. 

“Be glad you missed the last one, that was much worse,” August replied sourly. 

“You aced the last one.” The surprise in Charles’ voice caused August to shoot a confused look at his friend.

“I fail to see how those things are mutually exclusive,” he shrugged, his voice thick with the kind of arrogance only types like Walker or Napoleon could get away with. 

“Whatever, we’ve got two weeks of sweet freedom ahead of us,” Charles laughed. Walker happened to know Charles was hopelessly behind on nearly all assignments for all of his classes, but he couldn’t feel bad. The man couldn’t balance business and pleasure for shit, and all of this was his own fault. It wasn’t that he wasn’t smart - he always passed, and with minimal effort - he was just distracted a little too easily. And he was nothing like Mike, either, who was an idiot when it came to most things, but a borderline genius when you put him behind a computer. 

“Sounds like a cause for a celebration,” Marshall turned up next to Charles, somewhat out of the blue, followed by Sherlock, who looked far more awake and confident than his friend. 

“You look like you could use a drink,” Charles laughed, slapping Marshall on the back. He did look tired - not that that was unusual, but today it was striking. 

“Just handed in a ten page psych-paper.” Marshall yawned. From the looks of it, he’d been up for the bigger part of the night, if not all of it.

“Keppler?” Walker asked - he was careful, not sure if Marshall had forgiven him for last weekend’s little episode yet. “Liebermann,” Sherlock said. The reply was accompanied by a groan from both Marshall and Walker. The fact that she was insanely hot didn’t make up for the fact that that woman was a fucking harpy. As the four of them walked home, Walker and Marshall talked about the paper some more - Walker had taken the course as an elective the year before. Sherlock gave up on trying to convince Marshall that his assignment was absolutely fine after about six tries. 

“What’s up with you and the orchestra-girl,” Charles grinned. Making Sherlock feel awkward wasn’t the sole purpose of his question, but it was a nice bonus - and easily achieved. 

For once, Sherlock decided to forego his regular answer (‘nothing’) and tell the truth: “Her name is Elena, and we… kissed.” 

“And last week’s rehearsal went so poorly because you were imagining what her boobs look like?” Charles rolled his eyes. It’s not that he was trying to be a nosy, gossiping git, he was just curious. Inappropriately so, according to some - alright, according to most. 

“I don’t have to imagine, I know what they look like.” The words were out of his mouth before he realized he’d even opened it. Walker and Marshall each raised an eyebrow and half-listened to the conversation between Sherlock and Charles while continuing their own. 

“I’m impressed, Holmes. Mildly, but still. I was beginning to think I’d have to take her off your hands,” Charles laughed. The laughter was replaced by a sharp gasp when five fingers suddenly dug painfully into his shoulder and Sherlock appeared in front of him. Walter and August paused their conversation when they noticed what was going on. 

“You so much as look at her wrong and I swear to you, Brandon, you will not walk away in one piece, do you hear me?” Three pairs of eyebrows were raised at this outburst: It very decidedly wasn’t like Sherlock at all to react like this - emotional and rash. He had a far better handle on his temper than August or even Geralt - in fact, none of the guys had been aware that Sherlock Holmes had a temper. Turns out he did, and it was quite intimidating. 

“Sherlock,” Marshall said carefully, “I’m sure Charles was just joking.”

“I’m quite sure he wasn’t.”

Charles looked at him in disbelief. “You seriously think I’m that bad a friend?”

“I don’t think you are, but I can’t trust you aren’t.” Quite frankly, nobody could disagree with that statement. 

“Solo, you have five minutes to finish up with whoever is underneath your desk right now, we’re going out for a drink.” Leon made a face at Walker’s remark - either he was too predictable, or August knew him a little too well. 

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you didn’t know how to knock,” Leon growled through gritted teeth. Walker barging in unannounced was unwelcome at the best of times, least of all when you were halfway through getting your dick sucked. When August disappeared and slammed the door shut, Leon looked down at the pretty blonde between his knees. 

“Baby, I don’t need five minutes,” she purred, and with a devilish look in her eyes, she returned her attention to what she’d been doing. It wasn’t a lie; barely ten minutes later, Napoleon pulled the door of his room shut behind him. 

“Sorry I’m late!” Mike threw his jacket over the back of the last available chair. 

“No need, we’re grateful,” Sherlock said dryly, “had you been on time, all of us would’ve died of shock.” Everyone laughed at the joke. Nobody seemed to mind that he was the last to get there, but Mike couldn’t help but feel a bit guilty about it. 

“Ask Elena what she thinks of guys who come last.” That one earned him a smack in the head from Marshall as soon as he sat down. 

“Don’t get comfortable, you’re getting the next round,” Marshall told him. A round of drinks for the lot of them was usually an odd combination. The beers were the easy part, but the sometimes unusual whims of the guys who preferred something more decadent - usually August, Napoleon, Charles, Sherlock or, God save the poor bartender, all of the above - had on multiple occasions gotten you desperate looks from personnel. Occasionally, some of the more attractive female bartenders had even refused to sleep with Charles because of the tables consistently time consuming orders -  and Charles rarely struck out. 

“I’ll bring ‘em over, Mike, shift’s almost up, anyway!” Anjelica shouted from behind the bar, signaling you to sit back down. She’d been around long enough to know that waiting around by a bar could make Mikey annoying very quickly. He raised a hand by means of a ‘thank you’ and turned back.

“... as terrible as last week, practice somewhere else.” The group laughed at Leon’s remark, and even though Mike hadn’t heard the beginning of that sentence, he could guess that it was about Sherlock’s unusually bad rehearsal from last Saturday. 

“Yeah, what was that all about?” Sy asked. His voice sounded genuine enough, but his face told a different story. 

“Elena, of course,” Mike said - suggestive eyebrow-wiggle included - as he sat back down. Geralt scowled at both of them, annoyed at how immature they were being. Sherlock looked slightly uneasy, which wasn’t helped by the fact that Leon doubled down on the teasing by bringing up the bets that had been made about the situation between Sherlock and Elena. Right at that moment, Anjelica walked over to the table with the drinks and set them down. 

“Can I sit?” She asked. Without waiting for an answer, she sat down in August’s lap and leaned her elbows on the table, dropping her face in her hands. 

“Soooo?” 

“Anjelica, don’t be ridiculous.”

“Sherlock, my friend Isabelle is on the volleyball team with Elena’s best friend Lahela’s roommate Susanna’s boyfriend’s sister Joanne,” Anjelica said with a sickly sweet smile on her face. Reactions to that sentence were divided between the Got Its and Got It Nots - as was proved by Sy’s eloquent response: “Huh?”

Leon was the one to answer, because he saw Anjelica open her mouth and she would no doubt try to explain the whole thing: “If she wants to know, she’ll find out.” Anjelica approved the summary with a meaningful shrug and another smile. 

“Angie…” Sherlock rarely used Anjelica’s nickname. 

“For God’s sake, man, you snogged her, you didn’t murder her mother,” Charles chuckled. He often shared the more intimate details of his life a little too freely, so this was getting on his nerves.

“Charles, when were you planning on leaving for Christmas?” Geralt interjected - he was thoroughly fed up with the entire conversation. His one-on-one with Sherlock on Friday had been awkward enough - and neither had had to worry about a whole table (and the rest of a room) full of people then. Anjelica was about to protest, but August wasn’t having that. 

“Ange,” he said softly. When she turned to look at him, he just shook his head. The look in his eyes said it all. Charles also finally took the hint. 

“I’m leaving tonight, Henry’s driving me and his sister Mary back. I’ll be back on the twenty-eighth, though. Can’t miss New Year’s Eve here,” he shared a meaningful look with Leon as he said that last bit. The conversation quickly turned to sharing holiday plans with each other. Leon was leaving the next morning, and returning on the 27th, just like Marshall. 

“August?” 

“He’s coming with me,” Anjelica answered before he could say anything. August didn’t look particularly happy about the whole situation - no one dared to suggest he was terrified to meet Anjelica’s family, though they did all consider that a very valid reason to be afraid. 

“That whipped, huh?” Mike said jokingly, already preparing to duck in the event of flying glassware. It was probably a good thing that the man was on his third scotch and he was generally a pretty laid back drunk. 

“What about you, Mikey?” Anjelica asked. Mike just shrugged and told her he wasn’t going home, indicating he didn’t want to talk about it any further, and despite being incredibly curious by nature, Anjelica felt it best not to press the matter. She moved her eyes to Sherlock and nodded at him to ask the same question. 

“Staying to practice for the concert,” he said simply. Under his breath, but poorly disguised, Charles muttered some remark containing the words ‘snog’ and ‘Elena’, which earned him a swift kick in the shins from August - which in turn earned August an approving nod from Geralt. 

“Sy?” Anjelica was now genuinely curious about the last few people at the table. 

“Long as I ain’t plannin’ on apologizin’ to ma’s son of a bitch boyfriend, I ain’t welcome,” he growled. From the look on his face, everyone could tell he had no intention of apologizing. 

“Apologize for what?” Anjelica whispered to August, knowing she probably wouldn’t get much of an answer out of him. She was right: he just made a gesture that meant something along the lines of ‘ask him yourself’, so she repeated the question out loud, to Sy. 

“You ever wonder why I don’t use my first name?” He asked in return. She shook her head. 

“I don’t even think I know your first name.” 

“Nathaniel Evan Syverson,” Sy said, “Evan’s the name of my uncle, ma’s brother. He’s alright. Nathan’s ma’s boyfriend. He takes a li’l too kindly to beatin’ the shit out of her for my taste, so forgive me if I don’t exactly like the guy. She defends the piece of shit tooth ‘n nail, though. You can take that literally.”

“Shit, Sy,” Anjelica put a hand in front of her mouth. He said it so casually, as if it was the most normal thing. “What about you?” She couldn’t quite find the words to ask what she wanted to, but he understood perfectly. 

“Oh he beat on me, too. Think I ain’t got a single rib that he ain’t broken at some point.” “No one ever suspected?”

“Oh, school knew. Never did nothin’, though.” Sy chuckled grimly. “Kept beatin’ on me ‘til I grew too big for him to take. Tried to hit ‘m back once…” 

“What…” She couldn’t say anything else. 

“Ma protected him. Ended up catchin’ my fist herself. That’s when she told me I wasn’t welcome no more ‘til I said I was sorry for tryna hit Nate.” Sy had been staring at the bottle in his hands for the entire duration of his story, which meant he was surprised and a bit startled by the arms that wrapped around his shoulders all of a sudden. He patted her arm softly. 

“‘S alright, Ange, but thanks.” He was even more surprised when Anjelica pulled in a chair and sat next to him. 

“Is that why you and August…” She had no idea how to finish the sentence she started, and she didn’t have to. Sy knew exactly what she was asking about. Everyone at that table did. 

“Anjelica, what’s that?” Sy carefully grabbed her hand to get a better look at her wrist, where bluish-purple peaked from under her sleeves. She shook her hair back and smiled at him. 

“It’s nothing, Sy,” she said sweetly, “nothing to worry about.” Everything could have been alright, if Mike hadn’t come into the kitchen at that moment, which made Anjelica turn her head. Sy’s eyes went wide when he saw the four spots on the side of her neck, and he grabbed her chin to search the other side for a matching one. When he found it, he stared at her for a while, connecting the dots as he gently raised his hand to her throat and hovered his fingers over the marks. 

“Where is he?”

“Sy…”

“Where. Is. He?”

“Where is who?” Unfortunately for August, it was August who asked.

“You…” What came out of Sy’s throat was more vibration than sound; a low growl, dripping with pure, unadulterated rage. “I’m gonna kill you.” And without further warning, he lunged forward - practically through Mike - toward August, grabbing him by the shoulders and pinning him against the wall. 

“Fuck!” Mike yelled as he jumped out of the way to avoid being tackled. 

“Sy!” Anjelica was on the verge of tears, looking helplessly at Mike as she reached for Sy’s arms and tried to pull him away from August, “Sy, it’s not what you think!” 

“Sy, let him go, man,” Mike tried. From the look on his face, Anjelica could tell he was shocked. August, on the other hand, looked completely calm. 

“Please let go of me, Syverson, so I can explain.” He said it so matter-of-factly it was almost comical in this situation. 

“If you think I’m gon’ let you justify beatin’ the fuck outta ya girl, you’re fuckin’ insane!”

“Sy,” Anjelica tried again, “that’s not…” He ignored her pleading again. When Sy pulled his arm back to punch Walker, Mike grabbed his arm. Unfortunately, he didn’t have the muscle to deal with a guy of Sy’s size, especially not when he was angry like this. Fortunately, they’d been making enough noise for the whole house to check out the situation, which quickly escalated to a full-blown fight between the two. 

It had taken four guys - Geralt, Marshall, Charles and Mike - to pull the two apart, and they hadn’t managed before Sy got a couple of good blows in. Leon had taken care of Anjelica, who had curled up in a corner, scared that Sy would make good on his word to kill her boyfriend - friend, date, hookup… whatever they’d been back then. What had followed the fight was a lengthy and awkward conversation between the guys about the nature of Angie and August’s relationship, which ended with Sy stating very clearly that he neither understood nor supported the dynamic, but that he’d accept that it was their choice and none of his business. He’d never explained, though, why he’d had such a strong reaction to begin with. 

“Yeah,” Sy finally answered Anjelica’s half-asked question. She gave him another hug - letting him know that she understood now - before walking back to August, who pulled her back into his lap. 

“You knew.” It wasn’t a question: The look in his eyes was more than enough for Anjelica to figure it out. 

“I did.” 

“Why did you never tell me?” 

“Wasn’t my story to tell, Angie.” Anjelica replied to that by rolling her eyes and then turned back around. 

“Alright, where were we?” She asked cheerfully with a hint of that thing women did when they told you ‘it’s fine, do whatever you want’ when in reality, it wasn’t fine and you definitely shouldn’t do whatever you want. August knew he hadn’t heard the last of this yet, but for now, they were going to let it rest. “Geralt, your plans?”

“One moment,” he replied while holding up his phone. He answered it at the table, which Anjelica had found rude when she’d first met Geralt, but now she knew exactly what he was going to say. 

“Sol? I’m at the bar with the guys, can I call you back?” He barely waited for an answer before he hung up. 

“Sorry about that,” he said, “to answer your question: Me and my brothers don’t celebrate Christmas, so there’s no real reason for me to leave here.”

“You have brothers?” Anjelica asked, surprised that this had never come up before. According to Geralt, it was rather a long story, but she wanted to hear it nonetheless. 

The other side of the table had moved on to a different subject altogether. Over the past hour, Sy and Marshall had been looking at Mike, who checked his phone nervously every five minutes. He seemed kind of sad. 

“What’s up with you?” Marshall asked, one eyebrow raised. 

“Dani,” Mike sighed, “we’ve barely talked since last weekend, and I have no idea what could’ve happened or if I did something wrong or something…” If there was anything he wanted to add, it was put on hold by Charles asking about the next round of drinks. 

“Sucks,” Sy said dryly - a little too much, even for his doing. 

“Can’t think of anything?” Marshall half-joked. He raised his hands apologetically when Mike shot him a dirty look. 

“Alright, assuming it’s not you - ow! - I noticed she freaked out when she saw you,” he nodded in Sy’s direction, “what was that about?”

“I thought I saw something! Wasn’t sure though…” Mike said almost triumphantly. Sy looked at the beer in his hands, nervously tearing at the label. The atmosphere turned more awkward with every passing second. 

“Look, Mikey…” That didn’t sound good. In fact, it sounded so bad that Marshall’s mouth fell open when he realized what Sy was trying to tell Mike. 

“You fucked her,” Mike groaned in disbelief. Then, he fell silent for an uncharacteristically long moment before he started laughing and wondered out loud why he and Sy always went for the same girls. 

“Dunno,” Sy laughed in reply, “good taste?”

“The most we can say is that you have similar taste,” Sherlock interjected, “that doesn’t necessarily mean it’s good.”

“At least now we know that Dani has terrible taste in men,” Marshall noted, “sleeping with just one of them could have been a lapse of judgment, but both of these jerks?”

“We can’t rule out charity,” Sherlock chuckled. 

“Watch it, Holmes,” Mike said, obviously faking the threatening edge to his voice. 

“So, we alright, Mikey?” Sy asked with an apologetic smile on his face. 

“As long as it wasn’t somewhere in the past month,” Mike laughed - he clearly wasn’t mad, which made Sy sigh with relief. 

“Orientation party,” he said, “we’re good, then?”

“Yeah, no big deal!” And he meant it - Mike was easy going even on his worst days. 

The boys got louder with every new round of drinks. August, at some point, even abandoned his extreme aversion to PDA, which the others found quite amusing. 

“God, Walker, keep your hands to yourself,” Geralt sneered. It surprised the others; he was usually the last person to care about others’ inappropriate behavior - and certainly the last to ever comment on it. Anjelica, Sherlock and Marshall were the only ones to pick up on the hint of jealousy in his voice. A gust of icy wind rolled into the bar when the door opened, but other than some shivers, no one took too much notice of it. Charles, Leon and Sy, who were sitting on the side of the table that faced the door, saw and recognized the tall blonde woman who entered the room. She was quick to raise a finger to her lips to signal that they should remain quiet, and then made her way over to their table, until she was standing right behind Geralt. 

“You miss her.” Sherlock said when he heard the tinge of jealousy in the dark voice of his friend. Geralt just scoffed and nodded by means of a reply, not looking up from the glass in his hand.

“You don’t have to,” the blonde behind him said. Geralt jerked his head around so fast that any normal human would have pulled a muscle - or broken their neck. Part of it came from the sheer surprise of being snuck up on - that was a very hard thing to do to Geralt, even when he was a few drinks in - and partly because he recognized that voice immediately. He’d been dreaming of hearing that voice this close to him for weeks. Another fraction of a second later, he stood up - without much subtlety; she had to step aside to avoid taking a chair to the knee. 

“Sol?” He stared at her in disbelief. Was it really her? Was she really here? He reached one hand to the side of her face, slowly and hesitantly. Whoever looked closely enough could see that he almost trembled. It was as if he didn’t trust his own eyes. Until his fingers touched her skin. In a split second, he pulled her against his body and pressed his lips to hers. The kiss was far too passionate - and involved entirely too much tongue - to be appropriate in public, but the boys let it slide. Even Walker, who clearly fought with the desire to throw Geralt’s comment from earlier back into his face. These two hadn’t seen each other in months - they deserved this. 

“Solveig,” Sherlock answered the unasked question on Anjelica’s face, “Geralt’s girlfriend of… at least two years, they were together when I moved in.” 

“We’re indulging them because they’re long distance and he hasn’t seen her in four months,” August added. Anjelica chuckled and seemed to decide that that little fact made the entire situation endearing rather than gross.

“Five months and two weeks.” Geralt and Solveig had finally managed to tear themselves away from the other and sat down. Unlike Anjelica, Solveig grabbed a chair and sat between Geralt and Sherlock. “And we’ve been together for three years.”

“Three years, today,” Solveig added, “December twenty-second. Midwinter.” 

“A long night, indeed,” Charles joked.

“Hm.” It was Geralt’s favorite multi-purpose remark. This time, it was mostly a chuckle, while the expression on his face suggested there was at least some truth to the statement. After congratulations from everyone, and a quickly squeezed in introduction of Solveig to Anjelica and vice versa, Geralt got up to get his girl a drink.

“Are you staying with us, Sol,” Sherlock asked. 

“For the holidays, if that’s alright,” she looked around the table; nobody seemed to have any problems with it. 

“I’d have loved to see them do anything about it,” Geralt laughed. Everyone shuddered at the thought of having to deal with an angry Geralt. “You’re staying two weeks, then?”

“I’m staying until I graduate,” she answered shyly - it was clear that this hadn’t been brought up between them before, “I was offered a place to finish my master’s here.”

“You never…”

“I didn’t want you to think I did it for you,” she whispered apologetically, “I didn’t want me to think I did it for you.”

“Did you find a place here?” Geralt asked it carefully, but everyone knew he was praying to any god who would listen that she wouldn’t ask to move in with him. Not that Walker or Sherlock wouldn’t be quick to point out that the lease didn’t allow that, but still. 

“I did, I will get the keys on the second of January,” she smiled. Solveig knew exactly what the intentions behind that question had been. Talk at the table shifted to dinner - Mike and Sy were getting hungry, which meant one of them got jittery and the other cranky. Luckily, the bar served good burgers. 

“Geralt, why don’t you take Solveig home to get settled in,” Marshall said casually, “she looks beat from the flight.” Mike opened his mouth to say something but was shut up by a kick in the shins from Sherlock. 

“Don’t you need to eat,” Anjelica asked Solveig with a hint of concern in her voice. Both Napoleon and August answered, suggesting takeout and leftover pasta from the day before, respectively. 

Solveig and Geralt didn’t linger - as per everyone’s expectations. Anjelica wondered out loud whether the guys had a problem with Solveig, which resulted in laughter from her audience. 

“They haven’t seen each other for nearly six months,” Sy chuckled and, after he finished his beer, started taking orders for the next round.

“We owe it to them to give them the house for a few hours,” Napoleon added with a grin on his face. 

“We owe it to ourselves to stay away for a few hours,” Mike snickered. Everyone cracked up at that; truer words had never been spoken.

-> Part 8

[zacksfairest]

23, 47, 50!

23. Introduce OC that has changed from your first idea concerning what the character would be like?

Oh, I think that would be Vaela, my dearest wood elf ranger. She, admittedly, was originally COMPLETELY a self-insert for me to play against my fucked up drow OC who I liked to imagine Matt Mercer voicing. She is so so so SO much more than that now. A brave survivor of a terrible experience, and even rose above it to break the cycle of abuse. And now she has such a big family to fall back on to heal :') Honestly, both Vaela and Zaresh are pretty different from their original iterations, but I think Vaela has absolutely gone through quite the metamorphosis into the character she is now. Man. Me and Mel have to write that book.

47. Has anyone ever (friendly) claimed any of your OCs as their child?

Hm. I don't think so? I've had OCs claimed as husbands, though. Them I could name. If i'm wrong about the child thing, please let me know, guys. I can't think of any.

50. Give me the good ol’ OC talk here. Talk about anything you want

I've been on a big Mando OC kick the last week or so. I even stumbled upon a VERY old WIP that has been sitting half finished in my google docs since late November of 2019 and continued writing it. The insane part about it is that I knew exactly what I wanted to write as soon as I finished re-reading it, and picked up where I left off like it was nothing. Added five pages in just a few hours!

It's a fic that was supposed to be focused on my (admittedly) Mandosona and Din Djarin of Mandalorian fame, but had abandoned it to write a different fic in that venue instead. Now this particulat fic focuses much more on my Mandosona and my Mando OC clansmen, with the titular Mandalorian more as a side character than anything. I'm so excited to finish it, actually, as I have never finished anything that features these Mando OCs before. And I love them desperately. Even though I know no one really cares about some dumb Mando OCs, I desperately want to introduce them to the world.

And then there is my other Mando Twi'lek OC Ayala Ger'Mana, and the Imperial Commodore Corran Raandall who has all but ruined her life. I need to write for them, seeing as they are from a now defunct Star Wars TTRPG I was a part of. I fell in love with Ayala as I played her, though, and my Imperial Commodore OC is hot and awful. So I gotta get them to paper.

Also, I've been reading the Thrawn trilogy by Timothy Zahn for the first time ever, and I am in love with Thrawn. Love me some brutally effective military commanders. Gets me hot and bothered. So I desperately want him and Commodore Raandall to meet. He would hate Thrawn so much and Thrawn would not even be remotely bothered.

Fun fact! Ayala's backstory was inspired by the song "Resist and Bite" by Sabaton

Last thing! As this month is mine and Lemuel Adelier's ten year anniversary, I need to make time to write something for him and Addilyn. I deserve it.

[blkgirlcafe]

Professor Nasty

Professor! Florian Munteanu x Black! Reader

Warning: Public sex, unprotected sex, cheating, undefined age gap, dirty talking, slight degrading. 

I keep my description of the reader pretty vague, make her how you want, but she black fosho. I am trying to get better at writing from a Y/N perspective, so any constructive criticism is welcomed. 

Thank you @dersha98 for the inspiration and the ending. Thank you love!

University of Munich

Y/N tried to keep her eyes on the slides but it was nearly impossible. She never believed the hot professor stereotype until now. 

Somehow she had gotten her dates mixed up and ended up registering for classes late. Which means all the good electives were taken. Y/N had gotten stuck with the two worst electives one could think of and she was sure to be in for a boring ass time. Public speaking and Romanian literature. 

Public speaking was the worst to Y/N, because well it was public speaking. Every other week she was giving a speech, standing in front of a class of 30. It was nerve racking and she always needed a break after that class. 

Romanian literature on the other hand surprised her. The professor was gorgeous, a man if she ever saw one. 

Talk and built like a brick wall that she would happily run into. She sat up front, eyes tracing his each movement. 

“So reports are due, please pass them up.”

Y/N pulled out the report that she put together less than 4 hours ago after reading the spark notes online. She hadn’t read most of the book, getting bored within the first 4 chapters. 

Everyone knew that professors didn’t read these things, just grazed over and did a length check. 

She quickly passed it forward and began to pack her stuff, last class of the day. Y/N couldn’t wait to get home and watch Netflix. 

1 week later 

A big bright red F was stamped on her paper. Not even a C or D. This would tank her grade in the class which would tank her GPA. 

Y/N waited until the class was empty before approving Mr. Munteanu

Up close he was even more impressive of a man. He was solid built and smelled like mint and firewood. She liked it. 

He didn’t even get her a chance to talk, “Your grade is your grade, stop staring off into space and maybe it could have been better.”

Y/N was shocked not expecting that out of the normally quiet professor. 

“I’m sorry Mr. Munteanu, the book was just really hard for me to get into. Can I try another book? Please?” 

Y/N tried her puppy eyes on him, hoping it would work like it would on her boyfriend. 

“Read the whole book, cover to cover and instead of a 2 page report, I want 4. The highest you can get is a B.” 

“Yes Sir, thank you Sir.” 

The way he licked his lips made her look away, something inside her heating up at the thought of his tongue.

“When is it due?” She finally asked. 

“I’ll give you a week, and Y/N don’t tell anyone. I don’t normally let students make up work.”

“I won’t, thanks again Mr. Munteanu.”

Y/N declined an invite to drinks, and lowkey ghosted her boyfriend to finish the paper. Once she got past the first 4 chapters the book was actually good. Lots of drama and sex which she wasn’t expecting. 

She easily typed out a report after and printed it out. Excited to hand it back to him after class. 

Y/N waited silently as Mr. Munteanu read her paper. His tall frame was casually leaned against the desk at the front of the auditorium. She fidgeted in her seat. Having him read it in front of her was nerve racking. 

The paper dipped below his lips and Y/N found herself staring at his lips and how pink they were, wondering if they tasted as good as they looked. 

“Miss Y/N, Y/N!” 

Y/N snapped out her daydream, “Yes Sir.”

“I asked what is your favorite part of the book?”

Y/N chewed her lips, wondering if she should tell the truth. The book had a few steamy sex scenes and they were explained in graphic detail. 

Y/N kind of shrugged, not wanting to answer him. 

“Use your voice young lady.” His voice was stern, making her clench her thighs. 

“The sex scenes Sir, they were just so real.”

One eyebrow shot up on his face. 

Y/N felt her heart speed up, this was not a conversation she was prepared to have with him. 

“Come here Miss Y/N.” 

On shaky legs she made her way to where he was standing, he picked the book up off the desk and handed it to her. 

“Show me your favorite part.” 

Y/N flipped through the book she was handed. For some reason her hands were shaking, she found the part. 

“This is it.” Y/N squeaked out. 

“Read it Miss Y/N.”

Y/N gulped, praying her voice did not fail her, “ His soft touch sent flutters through her body, this is what it felt like to be touched by a man. An experienced man…”

Mr. Munteanu wrapped a large hand around her hip, Y/N gasped.

“Can I touch you?” 

“Yes...please.”

Y/N cursed herself, already begging. Mr. Munteanu stood and Y/N felt surrounded by him, he towered over her, his scent engulfed her. Y/N tilted her face up, to look at him. 

“Tell me you want this.” he barely whispered. 

“I want this sir.” 

Mr. Munteanu crashed his lips on hers, kissing her aggressively. Y/N kissed him back, biting back a moan as he grabbed her ass.  She needed more, wanted more. 

“Please Sir…” she broke the kiss. 

“Please what sweetheart.” 

Y/N wasnt sure what to ask, fuck my brains out sir, use me like a toy sir, do anything you want. The pad of this thumb traveled from her hip to her neck where he gently squeezed getting a moan out of Y/N.

“Don't make me ask twice.” 

“Please fuck me Sir.” 

Mr. Munteanu growled as his other hand yanked at her jeans, not even bothering to unbutton them, pulling them down. 

Cold air hit Y/N wet pussy lips she was absolutely drenched from the little he had done. What happened next happened so quickly, Y/N head was still swirling. She was face down on the hard wooden desk, Mr. Munteanu running a thick digit up and down her slit.  The clink of a belt was all that could be heard over both of their hard breathing. 

“Fuck I wish I had more time.” his thick accent broke her out her spell. 

“Please...I need you.” Once again begging like a whore to be fucked by an older man. 

“Don't worry sweetheart, I am going to fuck you like a man should.” 

His wet tip came in contact with her thigh as he guided the thick cock head towards her entrance. His pre cum mixed with her wetness as he pushed inside her, testing the limits of her walls. 

A gasp left Y/N as his thickness filled her up, a painful stretch that quickly turned into pleasure. Mr. Munteanu pushed until their bodies were connected, Y/N walls fluttered around him, reacting to having such girth in them. 

“Good girl, taking all of me.” he grunted. 

Y/N moaned as he begin to fuck her, slow deep strokes that left her breathless. Y/N let out a loud fuck as he hit a particular spot. 

“Have to be quiet for me baby, can't let them know what I am doing to you.” 

“I cant...It feels so good...please more.” Y/N tried to bite her lip, to keep from getting too loud. 

“You want them to know that you like older men, that you let me fuck and so quick.”

“Fuck Yes, please dont stop!”

“I'm not stopping until I flood that cunt.” 

Mr. Munteanu lifted one of her legs, setting it on the desk, hitting even deeper on each stroke, a tingling that started in her core finally let go, Y/N toes curled as she had her first orgasm, breath hitched in her throat. 

“Look at you, already cumming all over my dick. Imagine if I had you in a bed, the things I could do to you babygirl.”

Y/N head swam with the thoughts, the way he could use her body, she wanted that more than she wanted anything else right now. 

“Does your boyfriend make you feel like this?”

He knows I have a boyfriend, Y/N though. Mr. Munteanu picked up the pace, slamming his hips into her. 

“Tell me Y/N.” he said through clenched teeth. 

“No Sir, you feel better.” Y/N cried out. 

Y/N was being fucked so hard she swore the desk was moving, not that she cared, her second orgasm was sneaking up on her. 

Moans, skin slapping and the occasional grunt filled the empty auditorium. Mr. Munteanu pulled out, flipping her over before laying her back on the desk. All Y/N could see was him and his extremely chiseled chest. Her ass was pulled to the edge of the desk, her ankles by his ears, thick dick at her wet entrance. Y/N fist clenched around nothing, riding out her second orgasm. 

“Fuck, I am about to…” Mr. Munteanu never finished. 

He flooded her unprotected pussy, something she didn't even let her boyfriend do. He kissed her legs and thighs as he pulled her legs down. 

“I need more.” was the last thing he said as she rushed to put her pants back on and scurry out the door. 

Y/N rushed across campus, she felt like everyone knew what just had happened, she felt like everyone knew that her professor cum was staining her panties. She made it to her boyfriend's apartment, praying he was not there, still at the gym, or at the pub with friends.

The whole way up all she could think was, I just had sex with Mr. Munteanu! In the same class that he taught me in. Y/N was going to have to stare at that desk for the rest of the semester. She got to his apartment and mentally cursed herself, she could hear him on the game already. 

“Babe! Where have you been?” He asked her. 

“I had to turn in that paper and he had me stay while he read it.” Y/N tried to quickly get down the hallway but  Fynn wouldn't stop talking. Any other time he would be so engrossed in the game she could walk around stark naked and he wouldn't notice. 

“I waited on you for dinner though, I am hungry babe.” he whined. 

“Let me take a quick shower and I'll order your favorite.” 

She should feel guilty that her boyfriend was waiting for her to return while she was having the best sexual experience of her life on a desk, with her professor, who was also her boyfriend professor. But all she could think about was two orgasms in less than ten minutes. 

“Why are you walking funny baby?”

Y/N froze in her place, she just got fucked with the biggest dick she ever saw. 

“Sprained my ankle earlier in heels, I need to put it up.” 

Y/N quickly faked limped to the bathroom, turning the water up super high. She set her phone on the counter noticing a text from an unknown number. 

Be free Friday evening -Flo

[thomotomo]

Through everything pt.2

A/N: Here’s the part 2 of my Nmajoon x male Reader story! I hope you will enjoy it! Shoutout to @ben-c0c​ who beta read this part and corrected all my shit  (*¯ ³¯*)♡

Words: 2.5k

CW // Talk about stalks and sasaengs

Part 1

Namjoon held your hand during the whole escalator trip and you tried to calm yourself down by singing some random song’s lyrics or trying to concentrate on the warm feeling of Namjoon’s hand holding yours but nothing seemed to do it and before you knew it you were at the desired floor.

As the doors opened you saw a muscular man was waiting for the doors to open, he was looking at his phone and looked up as the doors opened. Namjoon took the first step, still holding your hand and you had no choice but follow him.

“Manager-nim! Hello! Sejin meet (Y/N), (Y/N) this is Sejin our manager!”

You smiled at him, bowing a little bit.

“Nice to finally meet you! Namjoon talks quite often about you!”

“I can’t say the same but nice to meet you anyway!”, he put on a friendly smile, even though you could feel that he was tense and you could easily understand why. If you were going to proceed announcing your relationship the company could be in very deep shit. You pushed those thoughts away, concentrating on your boyfriend and his manager discussing.

“You’re going to meet the members and then we’ll go see the CEO and the PR so we can discuss this!”

“Fine by me! Even though I don’t have much choice.”

He laughed gently and you followed Namjoon and Sejin to where the other members were in a big room, discussing about anything and everything. You were quite intimidated when they all looked at you as you walked in the room. You flushed and put your head down, looking at your feet. You heard Sejin talking to the members, quickly explaining the situation to them and what was about to happen. The members stood up and came toward you, smiling warmly and you were standing there awkwardly.

“H-Hello… It’s nice to finally meet you”, you waved at them, trying not to avert your eyes from them.

“Hi! Nice to meet you! Namjoon talked so much about you!”, it was Jimin who talked first as he extended his hand towards you. You took it and smiled at him, you were happy they seemed to like you too. You were scared that they wouldn’t like you because you could cause the “downfall” of their group, but they seemed genuinely happy to meet you.

Each of the members went to shake your hands, as you grinned, feeling more at ease with each minute passing. All of you then moved, discussing with them stories about Namjoon or learning about each of your lives (both yours and the members’). You kept discussing until Sejin told you it was time for the meeting with the CEO and PR representatives.

You let out a shaky breath, trying to appear not too worried but Yoongi seemed to notice it and he came to give you a hug, surprising you.

“It’s going to be okay! I’m sure everything will go alright!”, he grinned at you, doing thumbs up too, making you laugh gently.

The other boy wished you good luck and tried to reassure you gently. Namjoon took your hand in his, smiling gently at you, tugging you to follow Sejin to the office where all the important representatives were waiting for you. After what seemed a walk through an endless corridor, Sejin knocked at a door and entered first then let both of you in.

Before stepping in, Namjoon kissed your cheeks, whispering a “love you” before entering the room. It was plain grey, with big cabinets filled with paper works, probably all the cases they had to “resolve” or hide from the public. In the middle of this oppressing place was a big desk where Lenzo Yoon sat, the CEO for business; you supposed that your relationship was business considering he was the one meeting both of you. Next to him 3 people were present, two women and a man who looked at you as you walked in.

You repressed a shudder, the atmosphere in this office was really negative and if it wasn’t for Namjoon, you would have run away. Lenzo greeted you in a professional manner and you did the same, smiling a bit. All the PR representatives presented themselves and you took a seat in front of them. The woman at his right was Kwak Joo-Ho, the man at her right was Park Yong-Nam and the other woman at the left of the CEO was Sohn Eunseo.

You were very antsy and probably appeared as a nervous wreck despite trying not to appear this way. You were sweating profusely, your shirt was sticking to your back and your hands were shaking, but you kept trying to calm yourself, thinking about good thoughts and fluffy memories with Namjoon.

“So, I’ve been made aware of why Namjoon had requested a meeting with me and the PR team. I guess you’re his boyfriend right?”, Lenzo Yoon spoke first, a serious look on his face.

“Y-Yes it’s me.” You croaked, your throat dry because of the stress.

“From what he told us, you’ve been dating for a good while, 7 years if I’m correct and that he wanted to announce your relationship to everyone and that you were absolutely sure about that.”

“That’s right sir.”, it was Namjoon’s turn to respond affirmatively.

“Alright. I’ll let Ms.Kwak Ho-Joo talk to you about our thoughts on it and how we could do that announcement.”, he moved his hand towards a woman with her hair put in a bun. She nodded and looked at you, opening a file.

“So, I’m sure Namjoon had talked to you about it already but the medias are going to want to know everything about you, they’ll search any kind of social medias where you are, know that sasaengs will look for you too, they’re going to invade your private space and probably follow you and try to get all of your personal info, like phone number, private email, workplace etc. We’re going to need you to not do any public declarations that could be detrimental to the group like their private information, so you’re going to have to sign a non-disclosing agreement to ensure that.”, she slid a paper across the table to you.

Truth to be told you were a bit hurt that they thought you would publicly release their info but you understood why they did that, after all they were often chased by sasaengs and some of them even already had their private information. You read the contract carefully, not wanting to miss any info and you took the pen that was slided to you and signed at the bottom of each page before giving everything back to Ho-Joo. She put the contract back inside the file and continued.

“About the press and the sasaengs, you might want to put your online account such as twitter and Instagram in private to avoid any hate comments that could arrive to you, and to stop them from maybe digging up some things that you aren’t comfortable with sharing publicly.” You nodded at that, it only made sense, after all you didn’t want to get a flood of hate, same for your friends and family.

“Also, to announce your relationship it won’t be a press conference but we’re going to do a lengthy post about your relationship and post it on all of the company’s social media. We’re going to have to redact it with both of you, even though we already have an idea of what to write we will need your approval for some things.”

You nodded as she explained that. You got a lot of information at once  but it was only fair, considering what could happen in the minutes or hours following the statement, you also didn’t want to reveal more than necessary about you. You were realistic, surely you would get a ton of hate, after all BTS was one of the biggest bands of its time so it was only obvious you’d get hated on, but you knew that some people would support you too and be understanding.

Park Young-Nam pulled out a computer, you guessed it was to redact the statement. You felt Namjoon’s hand on your thigh and you looked at him, a bit surprised, he smiled at you and you felt a boost of serotonin as you looked at his dimpled smile. He never stopped to make you feel at ease even in a nervous-wrecking situation as this one and you took his hand in yours and tangled your fingers together.

You stayed around an hour in the office, writing the lengthy statement about your relationship, then they recommended you not to leave the building already, not that you were planning to, considering the bomb you would have just dropped for the whole world to see, and other recommendations about how to act and react to hate.

After everything was said, they told you that they would publish the statement in roughly ten minutes and that both of you could go back with the other members. You bid them goodbye and Sejin accompanied you back to the apartment where the other members still were. You quickly went on your phone, being careful of privating all of your accounts just like they told you, you almost forgot about it but luckily you did it before it was too late.

You sat on the couch with a sigh, and so did Namjoon. Taehyung was looking at you a bit worried, your hands were visibly shaking and it didn’t seem to want to stop anytime soon. He went and brought you a glass of water, which you accepted and drank in one go.

“Do you feel a bit better?”

“Yes, t-thanks a lot.”

“It’s okay. Do you want to play to keep your mind off it?”

“Yes that would be awesome, please.”, he grinned at you and turned on the Xbox and gave you a controller.

“Do you like Overwatch?”

“I don’t play it as much as before but yes I really like it.”

“Great! Let’s play it then, does that work for you?”

“Absolutely! Though I’m not very good anymore.”, both of you chuckled and kept discussing about the game as he turned it on. Soon you were joined by Jin and Jungkook who discussed with you about the game and did a pretty good job at keeping your mind out of the current mess on social media.

Meanwhile RM observed the four of you and he felt his heart singing at the sight of you being in great terms with the other members, but he couldn’t help but be worried about all the mess the announcement was going to create, you weren’t used to all the attention, well a little bit considering your job as a tattoo artist you had to have a public social media, but not of this magnitude.

Yoongi shook him out of his thoughts, putting his hands on his shoulder.

“You okay Nam?”, he looked pretty worried about him, honestly he could understand.

“I don’t know. I guess I’m really scared for him. And for us too obviously.”

“You know, both of you overcame a lot of things. Not everyone could date an idol for so long even if he was one, you’re also still together even with the distance and the time zones. I wouldn’t worry much, as long as you communicate, nothing wrong should happen. And don’t worry about us either, we’re big boys. If they can’t accept you being happily in love well they don’t deserve you.”, Yoongi smiled at him, trying to cheer him up. Namjoon’s lips rose a bit as he nodded.

“You’re right. But I really can’t help it, some people are wild, I’m scared they find his address and go and harass him in his own country too.”, he sighed in frustration. He hated knowing that some people weren’t able to respect the boundaries of public figures, even his parents weren’t sometimes immune to being followed by horrible people who wanted dirt on him or them.

“I understand but honestly, I’m not worried. You’ll get your happy ending with him, I’m sure about it. Come on let’s try to keep our minds off that. You should be happy it’s a respectable fine man you got there”

“You’re acting like an old man Yoongi, I didn’t know you were 50 years old.”, Namjoon chuckled, gently hitting his bandmate’s shoulder.

Yoongi chuckled too and they both stayed here looking at the other members and (Y/N) bantering about which character was the best in Overwatch. He observed your face, as cliché as it was, you were laughing at something Jin had said and Namjoon could swore you were lighting up the whole room with that blinding smile.

At the same moment a mess was created on Twitter and on every other social media where BigHit had published the announcement of the relationship. Namjoon’s phone didn’t stop vibrating and so did the other member’s (they were all logged on the BTS’ official accounts so obviously people were trying to get answers here too) but they all ignored it, in favour of turning it silent.

Obviously their next promotions weren’t going to be quiet so they would like to enjoy some calm. You all had fun for a good while until it was noon. You decided to order food and Namjoon used this time to call his parents, telling them both of you would sleep in the dorm that night (probably for the better at the moment).

The eight of you ate the food, discussing, and you were engrossed in a conversation with Jungkook and Jimin about tattoos. You showed them the big ass tattoos you had on your legs and talked about the others you had on your torso and they showed theirs too.

All in all, you were having a pretty good time with the members, until the inevitable moment where everyone didn’t really know what to say anymore and were just chilling. You were used to checking your phone and you shakily reached for it, looking at all the notifications you got. It seemed that some people found your personal Instagram account really quick and you already had a ton of notifications by people requesting to follow you. You were even @/ by some of them in their publications, some hateful, some pretty wholesome.

Same went for your tattoo shop account, you got a lot of followers and an alarmingly quickly growing number of comments under your last tattoo picture. You sighed tiredly and decided not to deal with it right now and closed the application in favour of playing a game. Namjoon looked at you and put his arm around you and kissed your cheek a few times earning a “Ewww” from Yoongi, whose eyes were shining with mirth as he did that.

You stuck your tongue out to him and went back to cuddle into Namjoon’s side, trying to ignore the growing number of comments and requests. You could feel your anxiety growing and just like earlier, your back was sticking to your shirt and you wished the situation wouldn’t be as scary as it actually was.

____________

A/N: Hope you enoyed this part 2! Don’t hesitate to leave feedbacks and reblog! You can also support my writing on my Kofi ! Take care  (つ≧▽≦)つ

[themetaphorgirl]

how to say “I love you”

okay so

this was actually inspired by this ask that I answered

and then I realized I could tie it into this post from @criminalmindsgonewrong

and then it exploded

(special shoutout to @f-m27 for letting me scream about this and reading it over!!)

----------

He forgot how to say I love you.

He didn’t do it on purpose. It just....happened.

“I love you,” he said to his father when he was tucked into bed at night.

“I love you,” he said to his mother when he came home from school.

His father stopped tucking him in, and stopped coming home, and after a while he never came home again.

His mother loved him, but sometimes she forgot who he was.

And he was too busy holding things together, sneaking out to the payphone with his mother’s credit card to pay the late power bill and buying groceries that he was too small to cook and working through classes with children twice his size.

And after a while, he forgot how to say it.

And then he went to school, and things changed.

He let Penelope borrow a pencil when she was trying to get her homework, and her last pencil broke, and she didn’t have a sharpener. All he did was hand her one of his. “Oh, I just love you!” she said, and he blinked in confusion, because it was just a pencil.

He said something funny without realizing it was funny, and Derek threw his head back and laughed, and tossed his arm around his skinny shoulders. “Aw, I love you, man,” he said. “You’re hilarious.” And he didn’t understand still, but he smiled because he’d done something right.

He was cornered by the bullies, because even here he was a target for kids bigger and older than him- but not smarter, never smarter, but smart could only take him so far. And JJ darted in between, pushing him behind her. “Pick on someone your own size,” she snarled, and when they left she knelt down, checking him for bruises and scrapes.

“Are you all right?” she asked anxiously. “They shouldn’t have done that, that’s not okay.”

“I’m fine,” he said, bewildered, because no one had come to his rescue before. But she took his hand and marched him away, anger cooling from red to pink in her cheeks, and he wondered why she decided to do that.

He got caught in the rain, hesitating behind the bigger kids as they watched the rain fall in gray sheets and the white sting of lightning shoot through the clouds, and eventually they made a break for it, trying to dodge the storm but losing the battle. They made it to the main building of the school, rainwater dripping from their clothes, and Emily ran her hands through his wet hair. “Shit, babe, you look like a drowned rat!” she laughed, and as she helped him wring out his blazer he thought he knew what she meant.

He couldn’t sleep, and he was stressed, and he wasn’t used to handling it yet like he was back home. He didn’t know how bad it was until a cup of water was pressed into his hand, and he looked up to see James. “You want to talk about it?” he asked, and he did, he did want to talk about it, and the words tumbled out like dropped marbles, and James let him speak until he was tired, listening intently, his body angled towards him and his eyes focused, and that was the kind of language he could translate into I want to hear you.

He was at David’s house- and he was never invited to people’s houses, ever, this was a first- and David was cooking dinner for everyone, and joy buzzed in his chest like honeybees, and that honeybee joy spilled out of him in facts and statistics in a steady stream of actually actually actually, and David didn’t stop him. “You know so much, I’d swear you’re Italian too, passerotto,” he said.

He wrinkled his nose, confused, and Emily tugged him to sit down on the barstool before he tipped over. “It means little sparrow, it’s a good thing,” she explained.

“It’s what we call our children,” David said, and he cupped his face in his hands and kissed both cheeks, and he beamed.

He was burning, fever crawling under his skin and twisting in his belly, and he wanted to lie down and sleep, but he couldn’t, he had other things to do and other things to worry about, he had grades that needed to stay impeccable in order to keep him in this school, he could sleep later. But Alex caught him by the shoulder, frowning, and pressed her hand against his forehead.

“You’re burning up,” she said, and he leaned into her cool hand, his eyes closing.

“I’m okay,” he mumbled, but she took him back to his room and tucked him into bed like the child that he was, and when he woke up calling for his mother that even in his haze he knew couldn’t answer, she held him on her lap and rocked him while he cried, and even though he couldn’t find words right then, he knew safe.

He didn’t know what to make of Hotch. There was a solemnity about him, an adultness that weighed heavy on his shoulders in an unspoken burden. But Hotch steered him quietly, unseen- prying his book from his hand when he stayed up late reading, scooping vegetables on his plate at dinner, replacing his hand-me-down clothes with new ones.

Hotch caught him in frustrated tears once, rolling off his cheeks in fat drops and plopping onto his homework, because a ten-year-old genius is still a ten-year-old, but he hated that he was crying, hated that he was acting like a baby, hated that he couldn’t stop.

But Hotch smeared his tears with his thumb, his dark eyes thoughtful. “You don’t have to do everything on your own, you know,” he said quietly.

“I have to,” he said, a sob catching in his throat like a trapped bird, suffocating him. “I always have to.”

Hotch shook his head. “No, you don’t,” he said. “You can rely on other people. You don’t have to be strong all the time.”

“I have to,” he repeated. “I have to, I have to.”

Hotch stroked his hair back from his forehead. “We’re not going anywhere,” he said, and he spoke with a firm resolve that said I have stood where you stand. “Let’s take a break from the homework, okay? It’ll still be here in an hour.”

He had forgotten how to say I love you. But he had to learn how to hear it first before he could say it back, and he had to say it his own ways.

He knew Penelope was upset, even though objectively he knew it was just a television show, and even if it was canceled she could always watch the episodes. But her mascara was running down her cheeks in dark rivulets as she cried at the dinner table, and he hated to see her so sad, so he got her ice cream, a bowl of vanilla soft serve covered in a million colors of sprinkles, and she smiled for the first time all day. “Thank you, cherub,” she said, squeezing his hand, and he smiled back, pleased.

He figured out how to come up with things to make Derek laugh. No one had ever thought he was funny before, but Derek did, and his laughter was genuine and warm and bubbling, and the warmth spread to him too.

He learned to write back when JJ left him notes in her tidy cursive, scrawling back things that were important and things that weren’t on intricately folded squares of notebook paper, and he looked forward to hearing what she was saying, and he knew she looked forward to hearing what he said too.

He still shied away from bullies, and once in a crowded hallway he ducked behind Emily, grabbing hold of her jacket. She looked down at him with a frown, then followed his gaze at the boys looking for him, and she wrapped her arm tightly around his shoulders.

“Stick with me, passerotto,” she said, and he could hear the pride and the concern in her voice, and his fear subsided.

He got stuck on geometric proofs after a long day and a sleepless night, the shapes and numbers and words blurring in his vision, and he crumpled up the page, splintering the edges into his fingers. But after a moment he smoothed it back, the creaselines making faded scars and softening the paper, and carried it to James.

“Can you take a look at this?” he asked.

James set his book aside, marking the page. “Absolutely,” he said, leaning close to get a better look. “Geometry? Oh, yeah, that’s the worst. Let’s make a little sense out of it.”

And James’s calm voice soothed his ruffled feathers and shone a little clarity like a break in the clouds on a dark day, and of course, it all made sense now, and his frustration melted.

He joined the chess club, and he met new people, but he was proudest when David sat down to play with him. David was all impulse and passion and risky choices that didn’t always pay off, but he was still good, though rarely good enough to beat him. He beat most kids, even the oldest kids, too full of youthful joy to hide his light and blend in.

“Where’d you find him, Rossi?” another senior complained, smarting at another loss to the hands of a child too small for his feet touch the floor when he sat at the chessboard.

“We found him as a baby on the steps of St. Thaddeus,” David laughed, but he hugged him around his shoulders and ruffled his hair and basked in his glow like a proud older brother.

He spent a lot of time in the library. It was quiet and safe there, warm lamplight casting comfortable shadows as he sprawled on the floor with a book. Alex walked up and down the aisles as she shelved books, humming rock’n’roll under her breath like hymns in a cathedral, and he was content. Sometimes she took a break to sit down in one of the armchairs with a book of her own, and sometimes he crawled into her lap, seeking comfort, and she gave it freely, making space for him in her arms without questions.

He found safety in his circle, and the anchor of his circle was Hotch. Without fail he stood by him, catching the little things that used to slip through the cracks. He never went to bed hungry. He never went outside in the cold without a coat. He never stayed awake worrying if the electricity might get shut off again. The ground had stopped tilting beneath him.

He sat in the common room, kneeling on the chair as he leaned on the table to finish his essay, filling the page with his messy handwriting as rain tapped on the window. JJ sat next to him, working on the same essay for the same class, while Penelope’s paper had become a page of swirls and flowers. Derek was stretching on the floor, complaining happily about how difficult his last game had been. James and David bickered good-naturedly over a chessboard; Alex read through a thick novel in French as Emily, bored, wove lazy braids in her long red hair. Hotch half dozed on the couch, arms crossed over his chest, one side of his headphones tilted off his ear so he could still hear what was going on.

Spencer looked at his paper and frowned. “Hey, Dad?” he said.

Hotch didn’t open his eyes. “Yeah?” he said sleepily.

“Tomorrow’s Thursday, right?”

His eyes were still closed. “Yeah, tomorrow’s Thursday, kid,” he said. “You still have another day to get that essay done.”

Spencer leaned back. “That’s what I thought,” he said. “Thanks.”

JJ tapped her pen against her lower lip. “Did Spence just call Hotch ‘dad’?” she said, grinning.

“And did Hotch just answer to it?” Emily said.

Spencer smiled as he went back to his essay. He still didn’t know exactly how to say I love you, but he was fairly certain they all understood him.

[nayutai]

The Task At Hand

Pairing Mingyu x Female OC

Word Count 15.1k

Warnings mentions of infidelity, mentions of racism, foul language, anxiety, insecurities, therapy sessions, dumbasses in love, light choking, dry humping

Summary The first year of marriage is always the hardest. Unfortunately for Mingyu and Kamile, the first year as husband and wife may also be their last. 

Notes This absolute behemoth of a fic is my contribution to The Intimacy Anthology where I, along with many other fantastic writers, have explored intimacy in all of its many forms. This fic is incredibly close to my heart and I hope that you all enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Please check out the other stories featured in the project here as well! 

Mingyu fumbles with his keys in the dark as he searches for the one that’ll get him into his house. The alcohol coursing through his system is making this very simple task a lot harder than it needs to be. He shouts victoriously when he finally manages to unlock the front door to stumble inside. He freezes when he hears someone clapping slowly off to his right.

“Two minutes and forty seven seconds. That didn’t take you as long as I thought it would but then again you have been good at finishing quickly these days.” Mingyu groans deep in his throat at the scathing words from the woman staring him down from the love seat in the living room. She lifts a glass of what he can only assume is white wine to her lips, draining it quickly. 

“I’m too drunk for your bullshit tonight, Kamile.” Mingyu grunts as he leans back against the door to steady himself while he toes his sneakers off. All he wants to do is crawl up the stairs to the guest room he’s been sleeping in so that he can go to sleep. He rolls his eyes when he hears Kamile clear her throat from across the room. If he knows anything about his wife, nothing good is about to come out of her mouth. 

“If you didn’t want to hear my bullshit then maybe you should’ve shown up for dinner with my parents tonight.” The venom in her voice makes Mingyu’s blood run cold. He’d totally forgotten about her mother’s birthday dinner tonight. Fuck. As much as he hates to hear her nagging him, even he has to admit that he deserves it this time. This dinner has been planned for months and he should’ve been there. 

He forces his eyes to focus when he looks back over at the brooding woman shooting daggers at him from across the room. It’s then he registers the fact that she’s still fully dressed despite the late hour. Kamile is a huge proponent of being comfortable within the walls of her own home and for her to sit in a dress and heels as she waits on his appearance does not bode well for him in the slightest. He’s surprised that she hasn’t launched her wine glass at his head.

“Whatever or whoever you were out doing,” Kamile rises slowly from the couch, impressively steady in her heels despite the bottle of wine she ran through waiting on her neglectful husband to come home. Silence stretches between them interrupted only by the damning clicks of her shoes against the hardwood flooring. Kamile stops to appraise the man she married when she reaches him, wondering where it all went wrong. 

“…I hope it was worth it.” She silences his groveling with a raised hand. She’s tired of the arguing. Tired of the excuses. Just tired in general. 

Most people would have some sort of emotional response to this but her exhaustion leaves nothing but an empty void in its wake. Mingyu may as well be yelling at a brick wall for all the response he gets from Kamile as she slowly climbs the stairs. The sound of the bedroom door clicking shut echoing around the house may as well have been a gunshot.

“One more thing for her to hold over my fucking head.” Mingyu grumbles as he slowly blazes his own trail up the stairs. He pauses before the closed door to the bedroom they once shared, hand gripping the doorknob in his hand as he contemplates going in to apologize. “What’s the use? Not like she’d listen to me now anyway.”

The bed in the guest room welcomes him like an old friend when he flops down on it, draining him of his energy. Thoughts of how he’ll fix things in the morning drift through his head. Sleep evens out his features, lulling him into a peaceful slumber despite the fact that he’s still fully clothed. The perfect cover for the plans being set in motion right down the hall. 

The sun rouses Mingyu from his sleep way before he’s ready. He could’ve sworn that the curtains were pulled closed when he went to bed but it’s hard to know what’s what when you’re three sheets to the wind at god only knows what time. Blindly, he reaches out for his phone where he’d left it on the nightstand but comes up with a piece of paper instead. It takes a minute for his eyes to focus enough to read the words on the page, but when they do he finds himself bolting for the ensuite bathroom. The offensive piece of stationary gently drifting to the ground as if it hasn’t just ruined his life.

He heaves and wretches until he has nothing left to give. His knees buckle several times as he tries to brush his teeth which is an incredibly difficult task to complete when one is sobbing with everything they have. This can’t be happening. He refuses to believe that this is his reality. Mingyu’s heart sinks even lower when he drags himself back to the bedroom and sees Kamile’s  wedding ring on the night stand next to his phone. He retrieves the letter from where it rests on the floor, reading it over until the tears he’d fought back make a reappearance.

Doing this feels incredibly impersonal but I feel like it’s probably better this way. I realized that the flame I thought would burn forever is barely a spark anymore. Tonight was an epiphany for me. I realize that I deserve better and I’ve decided that I will have it. I’ve always wished you joy and light and I will probably never stop doing that despite everything that’s happened but I can’t do it as your wife anymore. 

Take care,

Kamile Dexter

The usage of her maiden name feels like the final nail in his coffin. He calls. He texts. He emails. He even sends her a message on instagram. Every single attempt to reach her goes unanswered. Anyone could see that things hadn’t been the best between them for a while, but never in his most horrific nightmares did Mingyu think that Kamile would actually leave. 

Time is irrelevant to Mingyu in the days that follow Kamile’s departure. He wakes up when his alarm goes off and drifts through the day. His nights are spent calling Kamile despite the fact that she never answers which then leads to him drinking himself into an alcohol-induced sleep complete with all the blessed numbness that it provides until his alarm goes off once more. This is without a doubt the lowest point of his life and he doesn’t know how to fix it. Kamile grew up with Vernon so naturally Mingyu tries to enlist his help. Unfortunately, it seems that she has anticipated that move and stops answering Vernon’s calls and texts as well. 

With all of his other options seemingly exhausted, Mingyu calls the one person that could possibly help him, Sidra Dexter. A woman with many accolades to her name, Sidra considers being Kamile’s mother to be the most important among them. If anyone knows how to get through to his wife, it’s Sidra. Mingyu prays that she still has a soft spot for him as the phone rings in his ear. If this call goes unanswered, then he really will lose all hope in saving his marriage. 

“It’s about damn time you called me, Gyu Bear. My daughter left you a whole week ago tomorrow and you’re just now enlisting my services? Tell me why that is.” Never a woman to beat around the bush, Sidra gets right to the point with the accuracy of a heat-seeking missile. 

“I don’t know what to do, Mama Dee. She won’t talk to me.” Mingyu whines, on the verge of tears for the umpteenth time today.

“Of course she won’t. She’s stubborn just like her ornery ass father.” The aforementioned father pipes up in the background to defend himself but is quickly shut down. “Now back to you, Gyu Bear. You have messed up big time but I love you so I’m going to help you fix it but I have one question first.”

“Yes, ma’am?”

“Did you cheat on my daughter? And yes that ‘harmless flirting’ shit you men folk like to do counts as cheating in my book.”

“Of course not! Wait…does Kam think I cheated?” Mingyu is floored and honestly a little angered at the fact that after all these years together Kamile thinks he’s actually capable of infidelity. The alcohol-induced haze clears long enough for his brain to recall a comment she’d made the night she left about whoever he was doing being worth it. 

“She sure does,” Sidra starts up, “but luckily for you, my gut says that you’re telling the truth and it hasn’t steered me wrong in the last 56 years so I don’t see a reason not to trust it now. So here’s what we’re going to do.”

Mingyu listens intently as Sidra outlines her master plan. Not for the first time, he’s in awe of the way her brain functions. The tightness in his chest subsides a little bit with every word she says. For the first time in the six days since Kamile left, Mingyu feels like his life has meaning again. His marriage might not be over after all. 

Despite the fact that Kamile had no intention of answering any of Mingyu’s desperate pleas for attention, the sudden cessation of said pleas only serve to further increase her anguish. She’d originally thought she’d be able to finally find peace when he gave up, but that does not seem to be the case. A part of her didn’t want him to stop trying. Didn’t want him to stop fighting for her.

Did I make the right choice?

The question has haunted her every waking moment as she adjusts to her new normal. She’s been adrift for the last ten days trying to figure out her next plan of action. Should she stay in Korea? Should she go back to America? Should she throw a dart at a map and go wherever it lands? The possibilities are endless but Kamile finds herself unable to fully commit to either option which is how she’s ending up existing on takeout in a hotel for the past week and some change. God, why did she have to be so impulsive? She should’ve made sure that she had a game plan before she just up and left like that. 

Her phone rings on the small night stand, interrupting her self-loathing thoughts. Kamile groans when she sees that it’s her mother. Ever since she’d broken the news to her parents that she’d decided to leave Mingyu, her mom has been giving her grief. Kamile had always had a hunch that her mom loved Mingyu just as much if not more than she loved her, but their break up has made her think that her hunch had been closer to the truth than she’d previously thought.

“Hey, ma.” Kamile greets her mother apprehensively, bracing for the latest round of her mother’s reconciliation efforts. 

“Hello, my lovely daughter. I just landed in Seoul so if you don’t mind coming to get me from the airport that would be great.” Kamile chokes on the mouthful of noodles she’d been munching on. There’s no way in hell that her mother just said that she’s in Seoul. Sure enough, Kamile pulls her phone away from her ear to check her mother’s location and it says that she is in fact at the Incheon Airport. 

“Baby, what did I tell you about making sure you properly chew your food before swallowing. Did you forget what happened to your Uncle Tommy?” Kamile barely hears her mother’s recounting about the uncle who’d died from choking on a fish bone as she rushes around her hotel room gathering her things. She can’t believe her mom really flew halfway across the globe. Thankfully, her hotel isn’t far from the airport so Kamile is helping her mother put her bags in the back of her SUV in no time at all.

“Not that I’m not happy to see you or anything, but what are you doing here?” Kamile questions as she eases her car into the steady stream of traffic bound for the exit. 

“You just left your husband and you didn’t come home to me so I don’t know what made you think that I wasn’t coming out here. A friend of mine is letting me stay with her since I know how you are about your space.” 

Kamile is more than a little thankful for that. Her mother can be overbearing when she’s on a mission and the fact that she’ll still be able to maintain some personal space is comforting. She’s only too happy to let the gps in her guide her to this friend’s house. The closer they get to their destination though the more unsettled she becomes. She has no idea why her gut is telling her to be suspicious, but she’s definitely not about to ignore it. Kamile’s sense are on high alert when she turns into the driveway of a nondescript home in one of the more affluent suburbs of the city. 

“Mom, what’s this friend’s name?” Kamile eyes the structure in front of her as if it could possibly grow teeth and bite her. Something is not right here and if there’s one thing her mother taught her, it’s to trust her gut instinct and right now her gut is telling her to throw her car in reverse and get the hell out of dodge. The only thing keeping her from running for the hills is the fact her mother seems so at ease as she hops out of the car to grab her bags. 

“Her name is Bae Yeojin. She studied abroad at Villanova her junior year and we were roommates. She’s got a pretty successful business now.” Kamile hums in acknowledgement. She vaguely recalls her mom telling her about a girl named Yeojin from college, but that does nothing to assuage the uneasiness in her gut. 

Kamile waits at the bottom of the steps as her mother knocks on the front door. Her fingers are drumming on banister, eyes glancing back and forth from the ornate door and her car. She clutches her keys like a lifeline. At the slightest provocation, she’s ready to bolt. The two women squeal like school children and not the established professionals they are at the first sight of each other. Kamile wonders briefly how long it’s been since they last saw each other.

“Kamile Danielle Kim get your ass up here and say hi.” Not one to disobey a direct order, especially one accompanied by her full name, Kamile reluctantly climbs the short staircase.

“Jesus, Sid, you really spit this one right out. She’s practically your twin.” Yeojin exclaims. She pulls Kamile into a quick hug before ushering the both of them inside. 

One deep breath and Kamile instantly realizes why she felt so uneasy. There’s candles burning in the foyer, but they do nothing to mask the familiar scent she’s spent the last six years smelling. Mingyu is in this house somewhere. She spins around to fix the two women with what she hopes is a threatening glare. Unfortunately, neither one of them appears to be phased by it in the slightest.

“What the hell is going on here?” Kamile’s quickly starting to realize that not trusting her gut has landed her in a situation she most definitely has no interest being in. Her eyes quickly dart back and forth between the two scam artists in front of her.

“I told you she’d figure it out. Pay up.” Yeojin doesn’t take her eyes off Kamile as she holds her hand out to Sidra who is grumbling while she digs in her purse to hand over a few bills.

“Dammit, Kam, did I really raise you to be this observant? You’re costing me money.”

“Yes, now what in the fresh hell do y’all have going on?” The answer to her question comes in the form of timid footsteps sounding off behind her. Her spine stiffens. She doesn’t have to turn around to know who it is. She can sense him. “Fuck this. I’m leaving.”

“No, you’re not. Now turn your little narrow butt around and have a seat.” Sidra adopts the tone she’d frequently used when Kamile was growing up and even now as an adult Kamile knows that disobeying this direct order is not the right choice to make. 

It’s with a grimace, that she pivots on her heel to face her husband for the first time since she walked out on him. The satisfaction she feels when she sees just how awful he looks is cancelled out by the fact that she probably looks just as bad. It would be a lie to say that she hasn’t missed the comfort and solace his presence used to bring her. That she doesn’t want to let the outside world fade away as she hides away in his embrace. She wants that back. Craves it even, but enough is enough.

Curse words flow like running water through Kamile’s mind as her mother situates her on a love seat in the living room with Mingyu sat right next to her. His large frame dwarfs the slightly undersized piece of furniture. She can feel the body heat radiating off of him and it’s a battle of wills to keep from leaning into him. 

“First things first…” Sidra claps her hands as she and Yeojin take a seat on the sofa opposite the troubled couple, “I think now is a good time to mention that Ms. Yeojin here is actually a therapist who specializes in couples therapy.”

Of course she is.

Kamile rolls her eyes as the puzzle pieces start clicking into place. She could be buried under her blankets, binging on The Golden Girls right now, but no, her meddling ass mother has scammed her into marriage counseling instead. She should’ve ran when she had the chance.

“Based on what Sid has told me, the two of you are exactly one week shy of your first wedding anniversary and already on the verge of divorce. So, who would like to dump their emotional baggage on the floor first?” Yeojin glances between Kamile and Mingyu looking for a crack in their demeanor that she can exploit. Mingyu looks like he wants to hurl while Kamile’s face is a carefully constructed mask of indifference. She makes her choice easily.

“Mingyu, thank you for volunteering. Let’s hear it.” 

Put on the spot, Mingyu chances a glance sideways at Kamile before clearing his throat. Yeojin sits at the ready with her notebook and pen. She listens intently as Mingyu tells the fiasco as he sees it.

“I know I forget things sometimes. I try not to, but I’m an idol. I have a lot going on but that’s no different from when we first started dating so I don’t know why it’s suddenly such a big issue now.” Mingyu seems to find his voice as he speaks up on how he believes that he’s been wronged. The timid nervousness he’d felt before quickly getting pushed down so that his frustration can take over.

“When we first started dating, I wasn’t being abandoned in a house all day with nothing to do.” Kamile may have been grumbling under her breath but Mingyu hears her loud and clear. His head whips around so fas that the two mothers across from him silently worry about the neck pain that may cause him later. 

“You have nothing to do because you’ve turned down every opportunity that’s come your way.” Thoughts of the numerous job and consulting offers from Pledis and other entertainment companies like them that she turned down come flying to the forefront of his memory. Human resource agents have practically been beating down their door for the chance to work with Kamile, a creative visionary in her own right, but she’s rejected them one after another without a moment’s hesitation.

“You mean every opportunity that you have sent my way. Like why would I want to work at that entertainment company and be forced to watch that bitch Miyeon flirt with you every day like you’re not married?” Mingyu is forced to concede to her point with that one. Miyeon is one of the stylists at the company and, despite his repeated rejection, is too flirtatious for his liking as well. Unfortunately, she’s deeply entrenched in the corporate hierarchy and nothing short of murder would make the higher ups get rid of her even if all of the members have lodged complaints against her. 

“Is that the simple hoe you come home smelling like every time you’re ‘out with the boys’?” Kamile adds on as if she’s finally started connecting some dots in her overactive imagination. The fact that she has even entertained the thought of Mingyu not only cheating on her but cheating on her with Miyeon of all people makes his blood boil.  

“Why do you think I’m cheating on you? Why do you always just assume the worst about me? Do you think Vernon would ever let me even think about cheating on you? The man hates violence but he would beat my ass over you and we all know that.” The frown on Kamile’s face falters at the mention of her oldest friend. Mingyu is correct in saying that he would absolutely fight him, but there are still some thing that aren’t adding up. Yeojin attempts to halt the conversation so that they can delve deeper into what Mingyu just said but Kamile beats her to the punch. 

“You come home smelling like warm vanilla sugar every night when everybody knows that I am a Japanese cherry blossom supremacist. What am I supposed to think, Mingyu?” She can’t believe that he has the audacity to sit next to her and still lie. The palms of her hands itch with the urge to throw things but she’s done enough of that plus this isn’t exactly her house either.

“Seokmin always sprays us down with some random perfume because he says it keeps the women away and honestly, it actually works like a charm so I’m always first in line to get sprayed.” Kamile’s anger deflates almost immediately. To anyone that doesn’t know Lee Seokmin that would sound like a crock of shit, but it’s perfectly on brand for him.

“Well, how was I supposed to know that?”

“We’re fucking married, Kamile. You could’ve just asked. Better yet you could have come with me to these events like I’ve asked you to do a million times.” 

“You know I hate those things.”

“Everyone hates them, but I would hate them a lot less if I had you there with me. I just feel like I’ve been trying to make an effort but you’re not meeting me halfway.”

“I knew my Gyu Bear wasn’t a cheater!” Sidra, who hasn’t set a word since things had started to get heated, pipes up.

“God, Mom could you at least pretend that you love me more than him?” Kamile throws her hands up in frustration. Her mother’s obvious favoritism is really starting to get to her right now.

“Not until you start giving me less grief.”

“Now, now, Sid. Let’s not derail the progress we’re making here. Kamile, is there anything you’d like to bring to the table?” Yeojin pats her dear friend on the back of her hand to reign her back in. She’d hate to ruin the momentum they got going by having Kamile suddenly switch gears to argue with her mother.

Kamile is only too happy to tell her side of the story as she recounts the events of the night that she decided to leave Mingyu and how it was the tipping point for her. Yeojin listens intently, taking note of the fact that none of the issues that Kamile has with her husband are particularly heinous aside from the debunked cheating suspicions. Each transgression on it’s own wouldn’t be enough to end in divorce, but rather it’s the heaping pile of them that overwhelmed Kamile to the point that she felt she needed to get out.

The more she listens, the clearer it becomes to Yeojin that their marriage is suffering not because they don’t love one another but because they’ve forgotten how to talk to each other which has lead to an unfortunate disconnect. The biggest obstacle is definitely going to be Kamile’s determination to end things. She’s made up her mind and getting her to change her mind is not going to be easy.

“I think I’ve heard everything that I need to hear for today.” Yeojin sets her notepad down on her coffee table, relaxing in her chair a bit before she continues. “The first year in a marriage is usually the hardest, but that seems to have been exacerbated by the fact that the two of you have never lived together before now plus Kamile here has uprooted her entire life and moved to a new country.”

“Saving this marriage is going to take considerable effort on both sides in order to restore the balance you had before you said your vows. Here is what I recommend.”

Yeojin challenges the young couple to separate themselves from their daily lives for the next week and go somewhere remote. A place where it’s just the two of them without any outside influences. Of course, this won’t be just some run of the mill vacation. They’ll have “homework” of sorts that Yeojin will be checking to make sure they complete. Mingyu is all for it but Kamile is much more hesitant. All they’ve done is argue for the past few months and she’d rather not be stuck in a house arguing for two weeks straight. 

“I’ve spent the past year stuck in a house with no outside influences and look at where that’s gotten me. On the verge of a fucking divorce!” Mingyu looks like he has something to say, but Yeojin thankfully stops him before he can rile his wife up any more than she already is. 

“You’re not just going to be ‘stuck in a house’. Think of it like a game of Among Us. The two of you are crewmates and this wall that’s been built between you is the imposter.” Kamile looks at Yeojin as if she’s grown three extra heads. There’s no way she just related this counseling session to a freaking video game. 

“I will also stop bugging you about grandkids for six months if you go.” 

“You should’ve just started there. I’ll go.”

Yeojin claps her hands excitedly. She sounds way too happy to be shipping them off to self-guided marriage boot camp, but Kamile stays silent though that becomes increasingly difficult as her mother’s friends lists out the “tasks” she expects them to complete.

“So here’s the game plan, I want you two to be totally and completely honest with each other as much as possible for the entire time you’re gone. Often times in relationships, both parties will censor themselves as a way to keep the peace but that can be detrimental as it has been for you guys.” Mingyu and Kamile don’t realize it but they both frown simultaneously at the proposal of this honesty idea. Yeojin takes it as a positive sign that they are still in sync on some level. 

“If the thought of doing it all day is too daunting, then start with just one hour. This doesn’t mean that you have to sit and stare at each other for a whole hour and trade statements just act normally but speak honestly. Okay so far?”

“Yeah, I guess.” Mingyu casts a glance in Kamile’s direction, fingers twitching with the urge to reach out to her. He’s had to stop himself several times since she arrived and it’s not getting any easier.

While Kamile’s mind is running wild with all of the potential for disaster that an hour of honesty could result in, Yeojin powers on with the rest of her required tasks. On top of separating themselves from society and this so called honest hour, Yeojin has mandated that they share at least one meal together every day with one of them being dinner on their wedding anniversary. Just when Kamile thought that Yeojin couldn’t possibly pile more on, she brings up the “activity days”. Each of them will have to plan some sort of activity for the two of them to do together while they’re away. It could be as big or as small as they want, but it has to be meaningful. Mingyu draws Kamile’s attention when he pulls his phone out of his back pocket to start tapping away on the screen like a mad man.

“You guys have a lot of preparing to do in order to be ready to leave tomorrow so we’ll stop here for today. I’ll be checking in on you daily to assess your progress and offer any guidance you may need.” 

Kamile is out of her chair and halfway to the door before anyone can blink. The room suddenly feels too small as the gravity of what’s about to happen sinks in. She’d convinced herself that she no longer wanted to be married to Mingyu. She was so sure that her run as Mrs. Kim, albeit short as it was, had come to an end, but now she’s been confronted that her main reason for ending things was baseless. This is not how she thought things would go.

Day 1

The drive from the hotel to the home she’s shared with Mingyu for the past year goes way too quickly for Kamile’s liking. Mingyu had texted her about having to go gas up the rental car so he’s nowhere to be seen when Kamile arrives. She sits in the driveway for a few minutes thinking of the memories saturated into the home that looms before her. The memories she had hoped to create. A stray tear slips down her cheek and she swipes at it furiously. She swore that she was done shedding tears over this but they just keep on coming.

Her pity party is interrupted by an unfamiliar SUV pulling into the driveway behind her. Kamile looks in the mirror to see Mingyu getting out of the driver’s seat. She does her best to erase the evidence of her tears, but the look on his face when she opens her own door says that she wasn’t very successful. 

“Are you-”

“I’m fine.” Kamile cuts him off before he can even finish his question. She stalks to the back of her car to start transferring her bags from her car to the behemoth of an SUV behind her.

“I’ll get them.” Mingyu takes the bag she’d already grabbed from Kamile’s hands, motioning to the passenger’s seat. Kamile, no longer in the mood to speak, wordlessly follows his directive and climbs into the SUV.

It takes Mingyu no time at all to load Kamile’s bags into the back with his own. 

“Obviously this is a sign that we should just leave.”

“I don’t know about you, but I’m not about to let a lost set of keys stand between me and keeping my marriage.”

“Why do you even care? Why are we even doing this?” Kamile screams. She’s been holding this in for far too long and she can’t take it anymore. 

“For better or for worse.” Mingyu’s face is a mask of carefully controlled fury and it’s giving Kamile pause. She’s never seen him like this before. “We promised each other for better or for worse and yet you’re ready to run for the hills at the first sign of trouble. I’ll admit that I’m not perfect and certainly played a role in why we’re here but I’m willing to put in the work to make it better because those vows meant something to me. I thought they meant something to you too.”

Kamile is incredibly taken aback at Mingyu’s fervent desire to stay married. She didn’t think that he cared that much anymore. Without any further protest, she joins him in the hunt for the elusive key to the front door. Fifteen minutes pass and they are no closer to gaining entry than they were when they first arrived. A rep with the rental company calls as they’re checking the bottom of the flower pots that line the front porch and tells them that the keys were mistakenly put in the mailbox. The same mailbox that sits at the end of the mile long driveway. Kamile makes to get back in the car to drive to the end of the driveway but Mingyu suggests walking it.

“It would be faster in the car.”

“You heard that therapist lady. We’re supposed to be spending time together. What better way to do it than by walking two miles?” Kamile walks back and forth as she considers her options. She can resist which will probably lead to yet another fight or she can just suck it up and walk to the mailbox. With a groan, she makes her decision.

“Fine, but if I get tired you’re carrying me.”

“Anything for you, my lady.” He bows deeply which almost makes Kamile crack a smile. She steels her resolve quickly though and reminds herself not to get caught up in his antics. He’s going to have to do a lot more than make her laugh in order to get out of the dog house.

The walk to the mailbox and back is quiet for the most part. Their footfalls join the hum of the wildlife in the woods that line the driveway on either side, but the jokes and playful jabs that used to fill the air between them is noticeably absent. Neither one is sure of what to say or do around the other anymore. Thankfully, the key is hanging on a hook inside the rather large mailbox.

Mingyu fully expected for Kamile to ask to be carried on the way back. She’s never been a huge fan of physical activity so it doesn’t come as a surprised to him when she starts whining halfway back to the cabin.

“I can’t do it just leave me here with my flower friends. I’ll become one with the forest.” Mingyu wordlessly moves to crouch down in front of her. He’s thankful that she can’t see his face to save himself the embarrassment of having to explain why he’s so excited to carry her for the last half mile to the end of the driveway.

Kamile doesn’t hesitate a single second to climb onto his back, clinging to him like a koala. It’s not lost on either one of them that this is the most physical contact they’ve had with each other in months. She’s wrapped around him tight enough that he doesn’t need to support her thighs, but he does it anyway. No way in hell is going to let this moment pass by without taking full advantage. 

They opt to spend the rest of the day just getting settled in. Yeojin had encouraged them to share a bedroom but Kamile is not down with that. Mingyu is disappointed when she wheels her suitcase into one of the guest bedrooms but he takes solace in the fact that she’s chosen the one right across the master where he’d dropped his things hoping she’d follow. He hopes that at some point in the next few days she’ll finally share a bed with him again. 

Dinner ends up being Thai takeout. Kamile has to admit that she’s impressed when Mingyu is able to rattle off her usual order with practiced ease. There once was a time when they’d get Thai food together all the time, but they’re so far removed from that time that she was sure he’d have forgotten by now. They eat without a single word exchanged before going their separate ways to bed.

Day 2

Mingyu wakes up before the sun despite the fact that he slept all of two hours the night before. His hands are on the verge of trembling from all of the nervous energy coursing through his body. Today is the official first day of marriage bootcamp and he doesn’t know what to do with himself. It’s barely seven so there’s no way that Kamile has even attempted to get out of bed yet. Like a thief in the night, Mingyu creeps down the hall to peek into the bedroom that she had claimed as her own. A small smile graces his face at the cute way she hugs one of the throw pillows to her chest. It falters a little when his brain reminds him that she used to hug him close to her like that and not a pillow, but he shoves that depressing thought away for now. He has work to do.

The smell of bacon rouses Kamile from sleep, luring her down the stairs. She grunts a greeting at the man currently tending to a pan of scrambled eggs as she reaches for the stack of bacon on the counter to his left. Mingyu is quick to swat her hand away before she can secure her bounty.

“The eggs are almost done. Be patient.” Kamile whines at being chastised, scowling at the back of Mingyu’s head with disdain.

In the midst of her grumbling, she finally takes notice of his attire or the lack thereof. Saliva pools in her mouth at the sight of his muscles flexing as he cooks the eggs. Her gaze moves lower to his trim waist and the pair of gray sweatpants hanging from said waist in a way that has no business being as attractive as it is. Her fingers twitch with the urge to slide her hands beneath the waistband of those sweatpants to get at that prize she knows is there but she keeps them to herself.

“Earth to Kamile.” Mingyu chants as he waves a spatula in front of her face. She blinks rapidly, doing her best to clear the thick fog of arousal from her mind. The uncomfortable sensation of her panties sticking to her skin is quickly forgotten when Mingyu holds up a plate peeled high with bacon, eggs, and blueberry pancakes.

“Thanks, Gyu.” Kamile murmurs as she takes the proffered plate and heads for the table. She falters half a step when she realizes that she’s let his nickname slip. She prays that he didn’t notice and if he did, she prays he doesn’t say anything about it.

“Gyu? Haven’t heard that one in a while.” Looks like that prayer went unanswered. The shit eating grin on Mingyu’s face makes her itch. 

“I’m hungry and thankful. Don’t push it.” 

They eat in silence. The only sounds are their forks as they make contact with their plates.  Mingyu is kicking himself in the ass for not saying anything but his brain is short circuiting. Thankfully, the buzzing from the intercom by the front door signaling that someone is at the front gate. It’s the special grocery delivery he’d requested for the first of their planned activity days. 

“What’s all this for?” Kamile asks curiously. She pokes through a few of the bags to see fresh strawberries and a variety of other fruits along with a very large bag of rice cakes.

“I was thinking we could have a picnic today for our first planned activity.” His heart races as he waits for Kamile’s reaction to his idea. She munches on a piece of bacon as she continues to pull things out of bags.

“I dig it.” Mingyu feels weak with relief at his idea being well-received. “Why so many rice cakes though?”

“You’ve been a tteokbeokki fiend since we met. Didn’t see the point in depriving you while we’re here if I could just make it for you.” Kamile groans at the thought. She’s more than capable of feeding her own addiction with the spicy rice cake dish, but she’s never been able to make it as good as Mingyu. Despite the fact that she just ate, she contemplating requesting that he make a batch of it right now.

Mingyu grabs a knife to start chopping up some of the fruit. Kamile takes a seat at the island across from him, propping her chin in her hand as she watches him work. She’s always loved watching him cook almost as much as eating the food he makes. She can’t even remember the last time that she was able to do this. It feels like a lifetime ago. Her eyes with sparkle with fascination watching him prepare the food for their picnic. 

“Open up.” Mingyu holds a strawberry up to her lips and Kamile opens her mouth without hesitation. The berry is perfectly ripe and so juicy that a stream of it runs down her chin. Mingyu reaches out to swipe it away, licking the liquid from his thumb. 

“Tasty.” Kamile squirms in her seat at the way his lips wrap around his thumb. Time for her to make an escape before she does something crazy like fuck her husband in someone else’s kitchen. 

Mingyu watches Kamile hastily retreat with barely concealed glee. He’d thought that she’d stopped being attracted to him, but that is incorrect if the results of the little experiment he’d decided to conduct are to be believed. He smiles to himself as he continues cutting up fruit. There might be hope for them yet.

After agonizing longer than he should have over the best spot to set up their little picnic, Mingyu finally picks a spot. He’s so focused on how best to arrange everything on the blanket that he doesn’t even notice Kamile creeping up behind him. He nearly jumps out of his own skin when she clears her throat much to Kamile’s amusement.

“Did I scare you?” It’s clear to her that she did, but making him admit it is too good for her to pass up. 

“No…maybe.” Kamile hums in response, kneeling across from him on the blanket. “That dress is really pretty on you.”

“Thank you.” She mumbles in response. It’s been so long since she’s heard any sort of praise or compliment from Mingyu that she doesn’t even know how to respond anymore. It almost feels brand new. 

Eager to rid herself of the awkwardness blooming in her chest, Kamile grabs a fork and shoves what she thinks is a potato straight in her mouth. In her haste, she fails to realize that the potato she thought she had is actually an onion. Mingyu doubles over with laughter at the pure disgust painted across Kamile’s face. She desperately wants to spit it out but she was raised to believe that spitting out perfectly good food is only a half step below a sin so she powers through. She chugs one of the glasses of fresh squeezed lemonade on the small tray to her right as Mingyu continues to cackle at her plight. 

“You set me up for failure.” Kamile has hated onions from the womb according to the stories her mother told about the smell of onions making her nauseous for her entire pregnancy. Mingyu must pay for this. 

“I purposely cut them big enough for you to easily pick them out. You weren’t supposed to eat them.” Mingyu defends himself breathily as he tries desperately to stop laughing. Kamile reaches out to punch him in the arm which only serves to make him laugh harder.

Silence falls over them again although, unlike breakfast this morning, they’re able to exchange some small talk here and there. The awkwardness that they’d started off with wanes and wanes until they’re left comfortably enjoying each other’s presence for the first time in a long time. 

Mingyu finds himself unable to take his eyes off of Kamile. He’d meant it when he’d said that the yellow sundress she’s wearing looked pretty on her. It compliments the rich mahogany of her skin as if it was made especially for her. The plethora of curls that he’s always loved are full of life as she bobs her head side to side, one of her many habits that Mingyu has always adored. His chest feels tight with the weight of his love for her. He can’t believe that he nearly let her slip away.

“You’re staring, Mingyu.” Kamile says between bites of the strawberry she’d grabbed. Mingyu opens his mouth to answer when a distant rumble beats him to the punch. 

“Oh shit.” 

The two of them hastily toss the near empty dishes back into the picnic basket. Dark clouds are steadily rolling in with the speed of a bullet train. Just when they think they might be able to make it back into the house, their luck runs out. The rain comes down in sheets, drenching them in seconds. Kamile is so thankful that the lack of pockets on her dress lead to her choosing to leave her phone inside.

Kamile is the worst mood when they finally reach the safety of the house. She just went through the stress and physical exhaustion of wash day two days ago and now she has to do it all over again five days ahead of schedule. 

“Did you not check the fucking weather before you decided to turn us into sitting ducks outside?” She seethes. Mingyu arches a brow in confusion at her sudden mood swing.

“Of course I did. It was supposed to be nothing but sunshine all week.”

“Well, clearly that was a lie but I’ve grown to accept that from you. Now I’ve got to go suffer through wash day ahead of schedule.” Mingyu winces at her words, but he’s nothing if not an opportunist so he chooses to ignore it in favor of jumping on the more important statement Kamile just made. 

“Can I help you with your hair?” He asks as he follows his grumpy wife up the staircase. She pauses outside her room to fix him with a glare.

“Absolutely not.”

“Why? I’ve always helped you with your hair.” In his mind, this isn’t a huge request. The Kamile he knew used to be only too happy to allow him to hand over her hair products for him to do her extensive wash day routine for her. He’d actually gotten so good at it that he’d even started doing her younger sisters’ hair whenever he was in the states to visit.

“I barely know who you are anymore and you expect me to let you touch my hair? Not a chance in hell.” Kamile’s voice climbs in volume until she’s practically yelling. 

The last thing Mingyu wants to do today is fight, but enough is enough. Their screams echo through the spacious house as they go back and forth over Kamile’s mistrust of Mingyu. He doesn’t get it and she thinks it’s incredibly shocking that he doesn’t. Kamile’s phone rings somewhere in the bedroom she has yet to enter, effectively interrupting their spat. She leaves Mingyu in the hallway in favor of answering it and groans out loud when she sees that it’s a FaceTime call from Yeojin. She’d forgotten all about the daily check-ins that the therapist had mentioned she’d be conducting. She goes back out to the hallway and drags Mingyu with her to the staircase so they can get this call over with without ruining the carpet in her room. 

“Hello, love birds! How’s everything going?” Yeojin chirps once the call connects. Her hopeful smile falters slightly when she sees the sour looks on her clients’ faces.

Mingyu is only too happy to give the attentive marriage counselor a full rundown of what was happening before she called. Kamile scowls at him the entire time. To hear him tell it, she’s the bad guy but anyone with common sense would’ve left her alone after she’d made it perfectly clear that she was not in the mood to have a conversation. She can’t wait for Yeojin to drag him therapeutically for not picking up on that. 

“Kamile, what do you think lead to you lashing out like that? The rain was not his fault.” The woman in question is thrown off when the outcome she was expecting doesn’t come to fruition.

“He should’ve checked the weather before deciding to have a picnic outside but that’s neither here nor there. I feel like I made it very clear that I didn’t want to talk to him and yet he kept pressing the issue.” Kamile can’t believe that she has to defend herself. Mingyu is so hasty with responding that it sounds like a keyboard smash is coming out of his mouth.

“I would like to make it known that I did not say one word to you when we came back inside until you started yelling at me.” He looks incredibly smug as he watches Kamile’s mouth open and close as she tries to think of a way to refute his statement. “I would also like to make it known that I have been obsessive about every detail of this picnic and I would have never had it outside if there was even a slight chance that it might rain. Maybe if you had a little more faith in me you could see that.”

“And that brings me to my next point.” Yeojin begins. “We’ve established that the infidelity was a myth, so why do you continue to hold on to that mistrust, Kamile? I want you to really think about it and be completely honest with both us and yourself. I’m not saying that whatever you’re feeling is wrong because you are entitled to feel that way but I think it would be good for the both of you if why you feel that way is better understood.”

The theme of the day continues to be silence as Kamile ponders the question put before her. She’s mature enough to admit that not trusting Mingyu while also admitting that she believes him when he says that he didn’t cheat is contradictory. The root of that contradiction is something she’s been trying to avoid ever since she got roped into that surprise therapy session. Mingyu’s alleged infidelity had been her out. Her escape. She had cut and run on the back of a false truth and that reality is something that’s been hard for her to process. Tears well up in Kamile's eyes as she thinks back to Mingyu’s rant about their wedding vows when they’d first arrived. She’d thought that everything was his fault and being forced to face the truth is difficult. Mingyu’s harsh glare softens as he reaches out to wipe the tears from her face as they start to fall. He sighs when she pulls away from him.

“I can see that I’ve found a sore spot so I won’t press this any further today. We’ll revisit this in the future.” Yeojin gives them some tips on how to better communicate before she ends the call.

Kamile is only too happy to end the call so she can lock herself in her room. She doesn’t even come back out for dinner despite Mingyu all but begging outside of her door. He’s not sure what mental dots she connected when they were talking to Yeojin, but whatever it was seems to have upset her more than he’d originally thought.

A weather alert comes through on Mingyu’s phone as he watches TV downstairs. Apparently the storm that had snuck up on them earlier is part of a much larger system of severe weather that changed course and is expected to hang around the area for the next day or two. His first thought is Kamile. She’s terrified of thunderstorms. Always has been. 

He thinks back to a time before they started dating when Kamile was just Vernon’s pretty American friend that he had a huge crush on. She had come to Korea to visit and insisted on sleeping on the couch despite the fact that everyone tried to give up their room for her. Much like today, a nasty storm rolled in and in her panicked state she had accidentally ended up in his room instead of Vernon’s. The realization had been comical and she’d tried to leave to go to the right room, but a sudden clap of thunder that seemed to shake the whole building sent her diving into his arms where she stayed for the rest of the night. She slept through a thunderstorm for the first time in her life that night. A selfish part of him hopes that this storm brings him the same luck he had all those years ago.

Day 3

Heavy rain beats against the window like a prize fighter while thunder rattles Kamile’s brain until she feels like screaming. There aren’t many things that strike true fear in her heart, but thunderstorms are definitely somewhere in the top five things on that list. She’s got her headphones in and her music blasting, but it does very little to drown out the war going on outside. She rips the blankets from her body and makes for the bedroom door to go get in bed with Mingyu but like the fifty other times she’s attempted to do that she stops herself in the hallway. The door shuts with a soft click as she seals herself back in her own personal hell. 

Kamile jolts awake not even aware of when she had even managed to fall asleep. Sweat has glued her clothes to her skin and it’s making her skin crawl the longer she lays there. She groans aloud when she hears the rain still beating against the window pane. The alarm clock on the nightstand says that it’s just barely six in the morning which means it’s been exactly one hour since she apparently passed out from exhaustion. A rumble off in the distance lets her know that she probably won’t be getting more sleep any time soon so she drags herself to the bathroom for a shower. 

Freshly showered and in desperate need of caffeine, Kamile makes for the kitchen. Mingyu’s bare back comes into view for the second consecutive morning when she rounds the corner. His hair is sticking up in odd directions and he looks to be five seconds from falling asleep standing up as he stabs at the buttons on the coffee maker.

“Why are you up so early?”

“You need coffee.” He replies with a yawn.

“Yeah, but I can make it myself. You didn’t need to lose sleep to make me coffee.” She protests. Mingyu turns to glare at her until Kamile raises her hands in surrender.

“If you’re up, I’m up.” Kamile shakes her head at him as she pulls two mugs out of the cabinet. No sense in arguing with him when he’s clearly made up his mind about suffering.

The two of them sit in silence side by side, sipping their coffee, and staring out the window watching Mother Nature do her thing. Out of habit, Kamile leans over to rest her head on MIngyu’s shoulder. She stiffens when she realizes what she’s doing. Mingyu holds his breath. Scared that if he makes any sudden movements the bubble will burst and she’ll move away from him. She surprises the both of them when she lets the tension drain from her shoulders instead, relaxing into him.

“I’m sorry.” Kamile whispers into the void. If Mingyu wasn’t so acutely focused on her every move, he probably wouldn’t have even heard it over the wind. 

“Me too.” He turns his head to softly kiss the top of her head, taking a moment to inhale the familiar scent of her hair products. He never knew it was possible to miss a singular smell so much.

They’ve exchanged exactly four words since they sat down at the table, but they mean so much. There’s a near palpable shift in the air. Like a switch has flipped. An unspoken truce between them that they are in this together. Kamile lifts her head to finish her coffee and Mingyu immediately misses the weight of her head on his shoulder.

“Did you ever finish watching The Originals?” Kamile asks before downing the last of her coffee.

“No, it was kind of our thing so I haven’t watched it since we stopped watching it together.” She hums in response.

“Well, it looks like we’re going to be stuck in this house all day so we may as well pick up where we left off.” Mingyu nearly chokes on his coffee. He can’t even remember the last time Kamile willingly suggested that they spend time together. He pinches himself to make sure he’s not dreaming which she rolls her eyes at. 

“Come on. You’re in charge of snacks.”

For the next eight hours, their butts are glued to the couch. They only get up to use the bathroom and replenish their snack pile. They’ve spent so much of their time arguing that Kamile had forgotten how much she loved just being with Mingyu. Klaus is about to rain down hellfire on some of his enemies when Mingyu’s phone vibrates in the pocket of his sweatpants. Kamile can feel it against her own thigh and it’s only then that she realizes the way that they’ve gravitated towards each other over the course of the day. If she were to get any closer to him, she’d be sitting in his lap. Mingyu had intended to ignore the call, thinking it might be someone from the company despite his strict instructions not to contact him, but he answers it instead when he sees that it’s Yeojin. 

“Well don’t you two look cozy. I was planning to pick up where we left off yesterday, but I’d rather talk about this first.” Yeojin looks entirely too smug as she brings attention to the lack of space between the two of them. Mingyu half expects Kamile to scoot away from him now that it’s been pointed out just how close they are, but she stays put. 

“Can’t a girl just sit next to her husband without being questioned to death?” Kamile asks playfully. Yeojin chuckles and moves on with their daily check in. 

“Fine, fine I’ll leave it alone. Let’s get down to business. Mingyu we didn’t get to hear from you a lot yesterday so I’d like to get into how you felt when Kamile left. What was that like for you?” Yeojin rests her chin on her hand as she waits to see what’s going to come out of the box of emotions she just opened. 

Mingyu briefly realizes that this is the first time he’s talked about that day to anyone as he recounts that dark morning like the nightmare it was. Kamile listens in stunned silence while he tells his story. After seeing the bags under his eyes at Yeojin’s house, she’d figured that he’d suffered just like she had, but she’d never imagined that waking up to find her rings and the note she’d left had affected him to the extent that it did. The guilt that’s been festering in her gut increases tenfold at the thought of him heaving into the toilet.

“I knew things weren’t the greatest but I truly did believe that we were strong enough to get through whatever. Divorce never crossed my mind even once so it killed me to know that it had not only crossed her mind but became a viable option that she ran with. I get why she thought that was the best option now, but then it felt like I’d been blindsided.” Mingyu explains. His words are laced with the hurt that he’s been keeping to himself. Kamile picks at the words screen printed down one of the legs of her sweatpants wishing that a hold would open beneath her and swallow her up. She’s never felt so low.

“Kamile, I see you’re getting emotional. What are you feeling right now?” Yeojin gently pries. Mingyu pulls Kamile into him as his own emotions start getting the better of him. Yeojin is pleased to note that, unlike yesterday, Kamile doesn’t snatch away from him. 

“I was so focused on how unhappy I was that I didn’t consider anything else. It was all about me, me, me.” Kamile stares off into space as she opens up. She’s never talked about this with anyone but her best friends. In hindsight, they might not be sitting where they are right if she’d just talked to Mingyu about it ages ago but then again hindsight is always 20/20. “I visited Korea plenty of times when we were dating, but living here as the black wife of an idol has been so hard. Being from America, I’m used to people treating me different because of my skin color but when people feel entitled to be so invasive about it because of who I’m married to…it’s different.”

Mingyu’s jaw is on the floor as he listens to the struggles that his wife was having right under his nose and he never knew. He noticed that she’d become more withdrawn and hostile but he could never figure out why and she wouldn’t tell him when he asked. It comes as no surprise to him now that she stopped going outside. He can’t exactly blame her. Seventeen is going on their eighth year so Mingyu is a seasoned veteran at ignoring the things people say on the internet. Unfortunately, Kamile didn’t have that luxury. His stomach turns at the tales of her being approached on the street by people who wrongly called themselves fans thinking they were protecting him. The racist comments made about her online. She was suffering and he just let it go on thinking that she was just being moody.

“Do you think that caused you to develop a little resentment for Mingyu and his idol status?” 

Kamile’s first instinct is to say no, but given that they are supposed to be as honest possible she tamps down the lie before it can slip out. She did resent that she’d fallen for someone with such great public notoriety sometimes. It was different when she was just one of Vernon’s childhood friends. The general public didn’t really care what she did from day to day, but now one wrong move turns her into a trending topic and she doesn’t know how to handle it. There are days that she wishes that Mingyu was just a normal person, but then they would have never met and that’s not a reality she truly wants to live in despite her feelings towards him when she walked out. 

“Maybe a little bit but I know we’d have never met if he wasn’t Mingyu from Seventeen so it’s pointless really.” 

They talk with Yeojin a little while longer before she has to go to her next appointment. The air between them is heavy with the weight of the secrets that have come to light. It’s a stifling atmosphere and it’s beginning to drive Kamile insane. She reaches for the remote to restart their show, but Mingyu takes it from her.

“Why didn’t you tell me what was going on?” His eyes are misty as he struggles to hold himself back from crying once more. He could kick himself for not doing his best to shield her from the people that had killed her spirit.

“You’re already so busy and the last thing I wanted to do was add to everything else on your plate.” Mingyu wants to scream. She means more to him than being an idol. She always has. He cups her face in his hands, pressing his forehead to hers. 

“Promise me that you won’t hold stuff inside like that anymore and I promise to be better at not letting you. Deal?”

“Deal.” Kamile’s eyes flutter closed as Mingyu pulls away to press his lips to her forehead. 

He clears his throat before grabbing the remote to resume their show. For the next few hours, conversation is limited to the messy lives of the supernatural beings on the screen before them. The wind still howls. The rain is unceasing. Yet in the little bubble of Netflix and snacks that they’ve created, it may as well not even exist. 

Until bedtime that is.

“You know,” Mingyu says as they file up the stairs. The seemingly ever present bad weather still continues, “…you don’t have to sleep alone. I know you don’t like storms.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.” It would be so easy to take him up on his offer. She could finally get some sleep, but for whatever reason she can’t bring herself to do it.

“Well you know where I am if you change your mind. Good night, Kamile.”

“Good night, Mingyu.”

Kamile stares at the ceiling in despair. She didn’t think it was possible for the storm to get worse but apparently Mother Nature took that as a challenge. She’s starting to genuinely concerned about whether or not the window by her bed can withstand the force of the weather it’s being forced to deal with. Kamile contemplates running to Mingyu’s room but shuts that idea down for the millionth time. Things feel...different between them after today’s call with Yeojin but she’s not sure if they’ve been different enough to justify hopping into bed with him quite yet. 

“This is fine. I don’t need to sleep.” She whispers into the void. 

She’s accepted her fate and made peace with it. Or at least that’s what she thought she’d done. A crack of lighting illuminates the room despite the blackout curtains over the window followed by a thunderous boom so loud it seems to vibrate her very being. Kamile is across the hall before she even has the time to process what she’s doing. Mingyu is out cold when she bursts into the room. Her brain chooses that moment to catch up to what she’s doing and flips on the switch of self-consciousness. Another loud boom has her throwing caution to the wind once more, sliding beneath the blanket to get as close to him as possible without waking him up. 

Kamile lays next to him a trembling anxious mess as the storm rages on. She’s so consumed by her own fear that she doesn’t even notice the man next to her has roused from sleep until he’s wrapped both of his arms around her to pull her into his warm chest. It’s as if the environmental warfare outside ceases to exist the second Kamile’s cheek makes contact with Mingyu’s skin. His presence drowns everything out just like it did all those years ago. The sleep that had been evading her comes quickly in his embrace. 

Day 4

A ray of sunlight shines perfectly through a crack in the curtain to hit Kamile square in the face. She squirms around trying to escape it and gets a frustrated groan in response. It’s then that she registers the weight of the arm that rests loosely across her midsection. The memory of running to Mingyu’s bed in the middle of the night comes rushing back to her. Her first instinct is to bolt, but she’s so touch starved that she finds herself turning in his hold in a bid to get closer. 

“Good morning.” Mingyu grunts something in response that she’s sure he thought sounded like good morning.

He slots one of his legs between hers and unintentionally allows her to feel the morning wood barely contained by his boxer briefs. Mingyu’s even breathing indicates that he’s fallen back asleep. Kamile would love to do the same but all of her attention is laser focused on the hardened appendage intimately pressed against her upper thigh. A damp spot has already started forming in her panties. She needs to get out of this bed now. Kamile squirms and wiggles around trying to get away, but it would seem that her efforts are having the opposite effect. A throaty groan slips from Mingyu’s lips.

“Stop moving.” He mumbles still half asleep. Kamile does her best to stop fidgeting and focus her attention elsewhere, but it’s not working. Her inner muscles clench around nothing as thoughts of what Mingyu could do to her dance dangerously through her mind. 

“I have to pee.” Mingyu cracks one eye open. It doesn’t take a genius to tell that he doesn’t believe her for a second but he releases her anyway. He sighs as he watches her run off to the en suite bathroom. 

Mingyu is noticeably absent when Kamile emerges from the bathroom fresh off a rushed orgasm though hardly sated. She follows the scent of coffee downstairs to find Mingyu bent over digging through one of the crisper drawers in the refrigerator. Back before everything went to shit she would’ve slapped his ass with glee and run away before he could exact his revenge. Good times.

“Did you hear what I said?” Kamile was so focused on his ass that she hadn’t even registered the fact that Mingyu had said anything.

“Huh?”

“I said do you want to get in the hot tub later since we can go outside now?” He repeats as he hands over a cup of coffee already milky and sweet the way she likes it.

“It’s almost 80 degrees outside and you want to get in a hot tub?” She questions slowly to which Mingyu responds with an emphatic yes. “Be honest. Are you just trying to see me in a bikini?”

“Absolutely.” He giggles when Kamile reaches out to smack him on the arm. “Why are you attacking me? Yeojin said we have to be honest at all times.” 

“I don’t think that included being a horny little shit.”

“I’m a man with eyes and a hot wife. I can’t help.” Despite the compliment, Kamile’s mood sours at his words. Mingyu’s freshly honed observation skills picks up on it immediately.

“Uh oh, did I say something wrong?”

“If I’m so hot, then why haven’t we had sex in four months? We used to go at it like rabbits and then one day you just stopped initiating things.” 

Mingyu is quick to point out that he did try to have sex with her plenty of times, but she pushed him away. Eventually, he gave up. It’s almost funny when the dots start connecting in her head. Her personal struggles had originally been why she denied him sex, but then he’d started coming home doused in perfume so she really didn’t want anything to do with him then. Mingyu has never been a very pushy person so he figured he’d just wait her out. He didn’t think that he’d end up in a four month dry spell (and counting), but he was also not about to look for satisfaction outside of his marriage either. 

“How about we save this sex talk until after I’m finished cooking? All of the blood in my body is rushing south and these rice cakes are starting to look like nipples.” Kamile nearly chokes on the water she’d just taken a sip of. Tears pour from her eyes as her body can’t decide if it wants to laugh or die of asphyxiation. 

“Woah, woah! When we said till death do us part I was hoping we’d be farting dust not barely 26.” Kamile is sure that he wants her dead now as her internal war between laughing and choking only gets worse. 

Despite her earlier protests, Kamile finds herself seated across from Mingyu in the hot tub later that evening as they watch the sun set. She fully expects him to try something from the way his eyes keep drifting south to stare at her chest, but he’s on his best behavior the entire time. 

Day 5

“Hello, love birds! I missed you two yesterday. What happened?” Yeojin looks hesitant almost as if she’s scared of their answer. She looks downright relieved to hear that they missed her call because they fell asleep cuddling on the couch. After getting a run down of everything that’s happened since they last spoke, she encourages them to continue sleeping in the same bed together. 

“Couples often downplay the amount of good that just being physically close to your partner can be. If you’re both comfortable sleeping next to each other without a thunderstorm being the driving force, please keep doing it.” Yeojin pleads before ending the call to go to her next appointment. 

Her words hang in the air even after she’s gone. Mingyu looks over at Kamile with a questioning look on his face. It’s clear that he’s after her opinion on this whole shared bed situation, but Kamile doesn’t have much to say on the matter. The two of them have been pretty much inseparable during the day now, but she’s still nervous about sleeping in the same bed together and she doesn’t know how to shake that feeling. She was too scared to think about it last night but without the weather to distract her she’s not so sure if sit’s a good idea.

“What’s going on in there?” Mingyu taps a finger against Kamile’s temple to get her attention. She shakes her head but he’s got a feeling it’s about what Yeojin’s bed sharing idea.

“If this is about sharing a bed, don’t worry about. You’ve got the rest of the day to decide.” She nods in acknowledgement of his point but Mingyu can tell that the gears in her head are turning even faster than before. Her overthinking is going to give her a headache.

Night time comes entirely too quickly for Kamile’s liking. Mingyu has kept her so busy that she hasn’t had the time to sit down to sort through her thoughts. Knowing him, he probably did that on purpose. He always hated her habit of overthinking everything, preferring to live in the moment and make decisions as they arose. Kamile has never had much success doing that which is why they work so well together. He balances her out and helps her weed out the important aspects of the topic at hand to make faster decisions. 

Her mind is racing as they climb the stairs on their way to bed. Mingyu stops at the door to his bedroom and looks at her with such hope on his face that she almost feels guilty for what she’s about to say. His face falls when Kamile tells him that she thinks it’s better for them to sleep in their own respective rooms tonight. Mingyu is a good sport about it, bidding her good night with a lingering kiss to her forehead. 

Falling asleep has never been a problem for Mingyu which is why he’s utterly confused when he’s still wide awake three hours after getting into bed. He’s in danger of pulling the sheets off of the mattress on one side from how much he’s been tossing and turning. 

This is bullshit. I’ve been sleeping fine every night. What’s the difference now?

Mingyu sits up to fluff his pillows. It doesn’t help. He kicks the ceiling fan up a notch. That doesn’t help either. He counts sheep, ducks, and even cows, but nothing is working. The longer he tries to avoid the obvious the more awake he seems to be. Sleeping in the guest room most nights to avoid arguing had taught him to sleep alone. Now that he knows what it’s like to hold her again, he’s ruined. He wonders briefly if Kamile is awake too. Is she just as restless too? 

He tosses and turns for the better part of another hour. The clock on his phone says that 3 a.m is quickly approaching and Mingyu caves. It takes less than ten seconds to cross the hall to her room, but practicing his explanation as to why he’s in her room at ass o’clock in the morning takes much longer. He knocks twice and pokes his head in.

“Kam?”

“You can’t sleep either, huh?” She asks without even turning to look at the man poking his head into her bedroom. 

Mingyu nearly collapses from sheer relief when Kamile simply reaches behind herself to lift the blankets after he confirms that he’s been unable to fall asleep just like her. He wastes no time sliding in behind her. Before he can even get it out of his mouth to ask, Kamile reaches back to find his arm, pulling it across her waist. 

“Good night, Gyu.” Kamile whispers. Her words are slurred as if she’s already half asleep. Mingyu kisses her shoulder, letting his lips linger against her skin.

“Good night, Kam.”

Day 6

A feather light touch to her lower lip is what prompts Kamile to open her eyes long before she’s ready. She pulls back slightly once her vision clears and she realizes just how close Mingyu’s face is to her own. He even has the audacity to laugh at her surprise.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think you’d wake up.” He’s not sure how long he’s been watching her sleep, but he’d do it for the rest of his days. The pesky organ in his chest skips a beat as he holds Kamile’s gaze like a lifeline. He mulls over his next words very carefully, preparing for a possible rejection just as he did when he came to her room in the middle of night. “Can I kiss you?”

“Please do.” She whispers into the inch of space that separates them. 

Mingyu closed the gap slowly as if he’s giving her time to change her mind. Kamile sighs when his lips finally touch hers. One of his hands comes up to untie the silk scarf tied protectively around her head so that he can bury his hand in the curls he’s always been obsessed with. He uses his grip on her to guide her head as he deepens the kiss. 

She rolls onto her back and pulls him with her so that his much larger frame nearly covers hers entirely. Mingyu lets his primal instincts take over. Too lost in the way her lips are moving against his own. A groan rattles his chest when she squirms beneath him until his hips are situated between her thighs. The thin fabric of their respective underwear are the only barriers separating his aching erection from the place she needs him most. He can’t resist the urge to grind himself against her. If his brain wasn’t so clouded in lust, he’d probably have the mental capacity to feel a little embarrassed at just how quickly he’s risen to full mast. Kamile is floating somewhere beyond cloud nine when Mingyu’s hand that had been cradling her head moves to lightly grip her throat instead while the other rhythmically squeezes and pushes at her ass in time with his thrusts. Her head is tipped back in ecstasy as he kisses along her jaw.

It takes a herculean effort that he wasn’t totally sure he was even capable of, but Mingyu separates himself from the panting woman in his arms. He rocks back on his heels and Kamile’s eyes are immediately drawn to the tantalizing bulge at the apex of his shapely thighs. She reaches for him but Mingyu grabs her wrist before she can get her hands on him. He lifts her hand to his lips, pressing kisses to the back of it.

“Trust me when I say that I would love nothing more than to ravage you right now but if I’m going to be inside you again, I want you to have my ring on your finger.” Kamile starts to speak but stops when Mingyu presses his index finger to her lips. He traces the outline of her kiss swollen lips almost as if he’s in a trance. “I don’t want you to make a decision that you’re not totally comfortable with just because you’re horny. I want you to really want it. I want you to really want us. Now get up so I can feed you.”

A vulgar comment about what she really wants him to feed her crosses Kamile’s mind as Mingyu playfully swats at her thighs to get her moving. She respects his resolve and keeps it to herself but only barely. 

“It’s super nice outside. Wanna go for a walk?” Kamile would actually rather stay inside and enjoy the comforts of the air-conditioning, but Mingyu looks so excited that she finds herself giving in. She disappears upstairs to put on her sneakers mentally kicking herself for being so whipped for the man waiting for her by the patio door.

Mingyu laces his fingers between Kamile’s

They happen across a small stream during their casual stroll around the property. Kamile stops to look at Mingyu to see if he’s on the same wavelength as her. 

“Let’s do it.” 

Their shoes are abandoned under a tree near the creek before running full speed into the water.  The cooler temperature of the water feels like heaven. Kamile squeals when Mingyu splashes her with water. Mingyu suddenly lifts her over his shoulder, using the hand that’s not holding on to her to splash Kamile with more water. She’s out of breath from laughing when he finally lets her down only to steal the rest of her breath away when he surprises her with a kiss. 

“What was that for?” She’s slightly dazed both from the lack of oxygen and the searing kiss he’s just laid on her.

“Because.” He smirks at her before swooping in for yet another kiss.

“And that one?”

“Because part two.” Kamile giggles at his corniness even though she does her best not to give him the satisfaction of knowing it gets to her. Mingyu’s smile somehow gets even bigger at the sound of her laughter. He digs his fingers into his sides to prolong her laughter for his own enjoyment. 

They spend a little longer frolicking around before finally heading back to the house to shower and start on dinner. Kamile unsuccessfully lobbies to shower together but Mingyu is adamant in his refusal. He’s positive that the self-control he exhibited earlier that morning used up all the restraint he could’ve ever hoped to have for the next six months. There’s no way he’d be able to deny her. He kisses her quickly before running off to his own bathroom. 

Mingyu is totally and completely in love. He absentmindedly pushes his food around with his fork as he listens to Kamile rant about the mistreatment and near erasure of some X-Men character named Darwin. He’s got absolutely no idea what she’s talking about but she’s so passionate about it that he can’t help being fascinated. 

“Darwin’s whole entire superpower was that he could adapt to anything and you mean to tell me that robots designed to adapt to and counteract the powers of mutants were built off of Mystique’s DNA? Absolutely not. I might be a little-” Her rant is cut short by her phone ringing on the kitchen counter where she’d left it. She grumbles about being interrupted as she gets up to go get it. It’s Yeojin. 

Kamile returns to the table with her phone, choosing to sit in Mingyu’s lap for their daily check-in. The marriage counselor should get a kick out of that one. Sure enough, their seating arrangement is the first thing that Yeojin comments on. They take turns updating her on everything that’s occurred since they last spoke with her though they leave out some of the more sordid details. 

“This is what I like to hear!” She exclaims with an excited clap of her hands. “It seems that everything is going well right now. Is there anything we haven’t talked about this week that one of you wants to go over? If not, I’m comfortable ending the call here.” They say their goodbyes after confirming that they feel like they’re in a good place right now. Yeojin makes them swear to call her the moment they think they need her but she doubts that she’ll be hearing from them  until their follow-up appointment in a few days. 

Kamile makes to get up to return to her own chair but Mingyu stops her. She shrugs and reaches across the table to grab her own bowl. He smiles to himself as she resumes the rant that she’d been in the middle of before Yeojin’s call. He still has no idea what she’s going on about but he’s content to just listen to her vent. 

Day 7

Anxiety twisting her gut into knots is what eventually pulls Kamile from the bliss of sleep. Mingyu’s side of the bed is empty and she’s thankful for that to a certain extent. She heads for the shower, taking extra care with everything she does until she realizes how cowardly it is to stall like this. Deciding against putting on actual clothes, Kamile opts to just pull on one of oversized hoodies.

“Good morning!” Mingyu leans over to kiss her sweetly before turning back to the pan he’s tending to on the stove. He’s been doing that a lot since yesterday. Just randomly stealing kisses like he’s making up for lost time. 

“Just so you don’t get freaked out when they show up, I’ve got a private chef coming to cook us dinner tonight.” Mingyu mentions as they sit down to eat breakfast. She’s pleasantly surprised that he’s put in so much thought into their anniversary even though he’s yet to directly mention the fact that today is their anniversary. 

Today is their last day in their little safe haven away from the world and the status of their marriage is still technically up in the air. They both know that a decision needs to be made before they leave in the morning, but neither of them has brought it up. It’s like they’ve been tip toeing around the giant elephant in the room and expecting for it to just disappear on its own. 

Other than Mingyu making tteokbeokki, extra spicy and extra cheesy just the way Kamile likes it, they don’t really do much throughout the day. A majority of their time is spent tangled in each other on the couch just talking. They reminisce on the days when they’d first started dating. Kamile nearly falls off of the couch in a fit of laughter at Mingyu’s spot on impression of Vernon’s face when he’d caught them sneaking a few kisses in the dorm kitchen one day. Each memory is sweeter than the last and Kamile is overcome with the urge to make more of those memories. Now that she’s been able to let go of the anger and misplaced resentment that had made her bitter, she actually has hope in that possibility.

The heels of the platform pumps she’d decided on for the night click with every step as Kamile slowly descends the staircase. She’s determined not to let her natural clumsiness send her to the hospital on such an important day. Mingyu holds his hand out to her when she reaches the last few steps. He looks every bit the international superstar that he’s known to be.

“You look absolutely stunning.” Warmth spreads across her face at the whispered compliment. She barely manages to return the favor. Kamile’s nerves are starting to get the better of her and she hopes and prays that there’s wine on the table so that she can drink them away.

Thankfully, Kamile notices a bottle of white wine chilling in an ice bucket next to the table when Mingyu leads her into the dim dining room. The dinner prepared by the chef looks delicious and she’s can’t wait to taste it but wine is her first priority if she expects to make it through dinner without bolting. Her first glass is tipped down her throat in record time much to Mingyu’s amusement. He refills without hesitation though she chooses to actually sip that one as intended.

Conversation flows easily between them as they eat. However, the topic that deserves their attention the most continues to stew on the back burner as they talk about literally anything else. As nervous as Kamile was when she first came downstairs, Mingyu is doubly so. He’s done his almighty best to convince Kamile that their marriage is worth saving without outright begging her. Based on the past few days, he’s incredibly hopeful that she’ll come back home with him tomorrow and stay there but she’s always been a wildcard. You never truly knew what move she was going to make until she made it. The small velvet box in his pocket feels like a stone. During a lull in the conversation, Mingyu makes his move.

“Kamile,” He reaches across the table to grab both of her hands, “Four years ago you agreed to be my girlfriend and I thought that surely that was the happiest day of my life but then you said yes to being my wife and I knew then that I was wrong. You’re the most precious part of my life and I was a fool for not making sure that you knew that every day for the last year.”

Mingyu pauses to get down on one knee next to Kamile, pulling the ring box from his pocket. Her ring is nestled in the tiny velvet box. It sparkles brilliantly even in the dim lighting. “Kamile Kim, will you do me the honor of staying my wife?” 

Tears well up in Kamile’s eyes as she nods her head yes. She’d made countless lists and weighed her options, but in that moment she throws all of that logic to the wind. At the end of the day, Mingyu is the one. He always has been and he always will be. She can’t believe that she almost threw everything away over her own assumptions and insecurities. Mingyu doesn’t hesitate to slide the piece of jewelry onto her trembling hand when she holds it out to him. He stands, pulling her with him so that he can kiss her senseless. 

“I’ve been waiting to say this until I knew where we stood but….happy anniversary, babe.”

“Happy anniversary, Gyu.” She whispers against his lips before kissing him deeply once more. “Now take me upstairs.”

“Your wish is my command, my lady.” 

[commanderserwin]

Hi! How about some Mike and Erwin relationship HC?💕

i went crazy again i am so sorry 😭 but you asked, and u shall receive ;) i had so much fun with this. i’m literally living in my headcanons rent free 

a little ~nsfw~ ? just mentions of it ya know 

i also wrote about levi here ♡

Erwin. 

Mornings: Erwin usually wakes up earlier than you, quietly settling on his desk to continue his daily reports from last night. If he hears you stirring in your sleep, he would walk towards the bed and kiss a soft “Wake up,” on your temple. 

He lets you sleep more, but after a while, he will throw off the blanket off of your body with a cheerful look on his face. 

“Erwin,” you yawned, grabbing the blanket to cover your body, “It’s too early.” 

“It’s seven in the morning.” 

“Ugh,” you groaned, taking his sit on his desk. You read what he scribbled and occasionally asks about it while he fixes the bed and folds the blanket. 

He would walk towards to where you are sitting and would wrap his arms around your shoulder as he place kisses on your neck, as he angled your neck so he could taste you better. 

“Off of my seat, please,” he whispers, kissing one last time on the cheek. 

“That’s quite rude, Commander Erwin,” you huffed, crossing your arm over your chest in defeat. He stole the happy smile off of your lips with his kiss as you stood up. 

Afternoons: Erwin being your Commander and a superior meant that he was cooped up inside his office with a load of paperworks, notes, and books that he busied himself.

Occasionally, you would bring food into his office, leaving a tray of cold lunch since he forgot to get his in the Mess Hall. 

When it gets too stuffy, he would walk outside, and supervise where the new recruits were. He’d be the reason why the new boys and girls would tense up and be a little harder on each other during sparring, until he stands beside you with his hands behind his back. 

He wasn’t too big on PDA, as he likes to keep things private with this relationship with you, but he wouldn’t shy away giving you a kiss on your forehead as he greets you. 

The new recruits would snicker as they watched you blush deeply while the Commander remained impassive, even though Erwin knows what it does to you. 

In return, you left your spot beside him, and glared at him as you yelled for the recruits to run ten laps. The Commander chuckled lowly, mouthing you an “I love you,” as he retreats back to his office.

Evenings: Erwin would get in earlier in your bed, bringing the blanket near to his chin as he waits for you to come out of the bathroom. 

He usually would sit on the edge of the bed, holding a folder from Hange as he waits for you. 

When you come out, he’d put it on the bed, and call on to you. He doesn’t mind how dripping wet your hair is, he just wants to hold you as you dry your hair. No care if he also get splashed. 

He’d rest his cheek on your stomach, his arms holding you around the waist, as he mumbles, asking how your day went by. 

“Aside from making me blush?” Gently pulling his face away from your stomach to kiss pinch his cheeks, “Nothing much.” 

“Hmm,” he answers, resting his face again on your stomach. “You’re cute when you blush.” 

“Cute?!”

A little something in between: Erwin isn’t really fan of names while in bed, although he’d ask you to call him “sir” once in a while. He’d kiss the hot, breathy moan off of your lips as that name gave him a burst to push you to your high, as your moans became louder and louder.

He’s big on being the little spoon while cuddling late at night when both of you can’t sleep. 

Erwin is typically quiet, but when something agitates him, expect him to speak quickly and loudly as he pads across his bedroom taking off of his shoes, jacket, and shirt, as he continues to complain to while you just watch. 

It’s opposite during arguments. Since both of chooses to give each other the cold shoulder that everybody in the base could figure out that you two fought.

But Erwin will still kiss you on the forehead, even if you are fuming at him. 

At night, when both of you prepares to sleep, he’ll always hold you in his arm, while he apologizes and reasons out quietly. 

In the morning, you’ll greet him with a lighter heart and the both of you will talk it out. 

Mike. 

Mornings: Mike is the complete opposite of soft and gentle in the morning. This man will chuck off the blanket and pillow off of your head and throw it at your feet while simultaneously singing in his deep voice, “Good morning!” 

“Mike!” You shrilled, picking up the pillow and throwing it at him, “I am going to punch you in the face if you do that again!” 

He caught the pillow effortlessly from across the room and threw it right back at you, which smacked you right at the face. 

“Mike!” You screamed, storming right at him, “Don’t you dare hide in the bathroom, get back here!” 

It was too late as he already closed the door on your face as he retreated into the bathroom. You opened the bathroom door, and took his towel and clothes with your. 

“[Y/N]! Don’t!” 

“Good morning to you, too.” 

Picking up his the discarded clothes, you huffed as you folded it on top of his closet. You also picked up the pillows and folded the blanket neatly at the end of the bed, as you waited for your turn to wash. 

You were picking up something when Mike whistled at you. You looked over, and saw him naked and dripping wet. He propped himself over at the doorframe, dropping water everywhere. Then, you looked down. He raised his eyebrows at you, “Do you want to shower together?” 

“I can’t believe you. Why are you even hard?” 

“Why don’t you come and find out,” Mike trudged towards you, as you resisted very much, but failed very much, as you ended up being enclosed in his arm. 

“Clean the floor,” you ordered, as you began to take off of your shirt, “I hate you.” 

Afternoons: Mike is as serious as ever when he trains his squad. He would be on the other side of the field, barking orders with a stern look on his face. 

Once the training is done, you often clean up while your recruits run off to rest inside the Mess Hall. 

“Squad Leader [Y/N]!”

You turned around, smiling at the kid. “That’s me,” you answered, “Do you need any help?” 

The boy blushed, really expecting you to be stern, but he handed you a small folded letter. “Squad Leader Mike wants to give this to you. He said it was urgent.” 

Peeking from across the field, Mike was standing with his arms crossed and a serious face. “All right, thanks kid.” 

You quickly opened it, heart pounding, as to what might be wrong. 

“Hello,” it wrote. It’s got even a little heart. ♡

Raising the paper in the air, you shouted at him, “Really?!” 

Mike winked at you still with that serious look, and went inside the Hall. It must be the nth time he’s given you something like this, maybe a box full of silly letters like this, but you can’t wait to stick it into your journal of how silly this person you are with is making you feel loved and annoyed. 

Evenings: Mike would come into the bedroom with a hidden piece of bread, as you sat down scribbling something on your journal. 

“Are you writing how good I am in bed?” He asked, peeking over your journal while he broke a piece of bread for you. He sat down across from your table, still munching on his food. 

“Absolutely not,” you said, too busy writing and tucking away the piece of paper he gave you. He smiled playfully as you opened your mouth to feed you more of his food.

And he was happy to obliged, as he also leaned in to steal a kiss from your lips to wipe away the little crumb on the corner of your mouth. 

He left you alone and quickly washed as you are already prepared for bed with your shorts and his shirt. He then laid down on the bed as he watched you scribbled. 

“Are you done?” 

“Almost,” you whispered, writing down the last thoughts quickly. You want to join him in bed now. 

“I didn’t know writing how good I am would take you that long.” 

“Shut up.” 

“But what was that from the other day?” 

“Did you read my journal?” You seethed, closing your journal loudly. “Mike!” 

You scrambled to the bed, pinching his arms as he struggled to get you off of his body. It was easy since he was a lot bigger than you, and in one turn, he’s got you pinned down with arms above your head. “I would never read your journal, you know that. I just took a wild guess. And you do.” 

“If I say yes,” you huffed, itching to get his big hand off of your wrists, “Would that make you happy?” 

“Very much,” he whispered as he let go of your wrists and dived right at your lips. Your hands immediately roamed his back, his throaty moans echoing in your ears as he kissed you hard, as his hand roamed down, further down, and until he hit that sweet spot that got you arching your back for him. 

A little something in between: On his days off, you would catch him reading a book by the open window as he slouched on the floor, flipping through the pages. 

He would look up with a smile, and watch you lay on the bed, where you would also read. Most of the times, he’d just wait to join you in bed, and automatically would read aloud as he played with your hair while he listened. 

Afternoon naps. That’s it. He would make fun of the marks on your cheeks, but you’d point out that he has drool. 

Slight to no PDA. A hand on your shoulder or back is enough. A wink too. But that’s about it. But he loves it when you wrap your hand on his arm.

Both of you are level-headed. So arguing is something that comes and goes, although it does get out of hand but he wouldn’t want to go to bed mad. 

Massages. He loves massages. He would just be surprised when he feels your hands on his shoulders as he writes his reports, and would complain if you stop. 

[snarkwriteswrasslin]

15.12, le tits now, trent baretta

Title: le tits now ( let it snow wrapping paper used wrongly, ftw.) 

Theme: Wrapping paper

Fandom / Character(s):Trent Baretta, AEW

Warnings: It’s flirtatious and a little comedy. Oh and definitely over the top fluffy. That’s p. much it. 

Word Count: uhhh... roughly 2k.

This is my entry to @champbucks 12 Days Of Christmas Challenge for the day.Listen.. I was shown a picture by my bb @schizoauthoress​ that I immediately took and ran with. So.. thank them for the inspo. The wrapping paper is supposed to say let it snow, but instead, it’s wrapped horribly enough that it reads le tits now. Annnyway. I went full on sexy rom com funny with this, so I really hope ya’ll like it? I had way too much fun writing it.

BTW>. i made the banner thing. No stealing.

Tagging:

@kyleoreillysknee​​​

@rampagewriting​​​

@writertoo18​​​

@thatnerdwriter​​​

@wrestlingismyguiltypleasure​​​

@chasingeverybreakingwave​​​

@waywardwrestlewritingwaif​​​

@sassymox​​​

@champbucks​​​

@hungmanhorsecarriage​​​

@wardl0w​​​

@ryantaylorgirl​​​

@dilfmoxley​​​

@hotyeehawman​​​

@gabbynorth98​​​

@bec0m​​​

@irish-newzealand-idian-dutch​​​

@daddyslittlevillain​​​

[ about page | masterlist | tag list ]

The baseball cap was being passed around Catering and for the most part, I ignored it. Only vaguely noticed it. Hell, if I’m being honest, I was only halfway listening to Brandi Rhodes as she explained the ‘rules’ that went along with Secret Santa.

Kris leaned in and elbowed me, whispering with a soft laugh, “I hope I get OC.”

“I don’t care who I get as long as it’s not Hager. Because I can’t punch him in the dick and call it a present to humanity.” I mumbled, shrugging lazily as I scrolled Twitter.

More to the point, I may or may not have been scrolling Trent’s Twitter… For the fourth time that day. As soon as Kris caught onto it, she smiled and teased quietly, “But you’d really like it if you got Trent’s name.. Right?”

“I mean.. I wouldn’t exactly complain.” I answered Kris, putting down my phone and looking up at her, laughing softly. I could feel someone staring at me but I didn’t bother turning around. It was probably Hager again, being gross.. Again.

The baseball cap made it’s way to our table. Kris went first, pulling out a slip of paper.

“Ooh.”

“What’s ooh? Did you get OC?” I asked, teasing a little. 

“No, actually.” Kris was giving me this smug little smirk. I pretty well knew she wasn’t going to tell me just yet. And it didn’t really bother me.

I eyed the baseball cap. “Well, here goes nothing. Please baby Jesus in the manger, don’t be Hager. Don’t be Hager..” I reached in and grabbed at two slips, letting the first one settle back in the hat and pulling out the second. I opened it, eyes scrolling over the writing on the page.

“Oh thank god. It’s not Hager.” I may or may not have said it a little too loud, because at the table behind us, I heard Chuck Taylor start snickering, immediately launching into an impersonation of Hager that prompted me to turn and laugh as I nodded and gave him the thumbs up.

“You have to sound dumb as a brick next time though, Chuckie.. Man’s as dumb as a brick.”

“Noted, darlin. Who did you two get, huh?” Chuck asked Kris and I. 

“We’re not supposed to tell! That ruins the whole surprise!” Kris’ eyes went wide. I laughed and shook my head. I nodded my head subtly towards Kris when she was preoccupied and Chuck smirked, leaning in to whisper, “Just shove her in a room with Orange. Pretty sure it’ll make both their Christmas real jolly.”

“Noted, Chucky boy.” 

Knowing that Chuck was one of exactly 3 people who kind of knew about my little crush on Trent, I leaned in a second later and whispered, “Any idea who got Trent’s name?”

Chuck shrugged but he waited and leaned across the aisle when everybody else was occupied or talking and muttered quietly, “If I find out, I’ll send ‘em your way.”

“Yeah, that’d be great. I got Kris, but I’ve already got her a present or two.” I explained. And honestly, after that I totally forgot about the whole thing.

XXX

“Who did you get, man?” Chuck asked the question because Trent was.. In deep thought mode and hadn’t been listening to at least the last ten minutes of the conversation currently going on around him. The question was enough to pull Trent out of his deep thought and Trent chuckled, raising his hips so that he could dig around in the pockets of his jeans to find the slip of paper he’d drawn earlier that night in Catering when they all drew names.

Chuck took the slip and looked at it, promptly chuckling.

“So you’re going for it, huh?”

“Mhm. Was there any doubt though, Chuckie?”

“Good. Good, man.” 

Orange spoke up from the back. “I got Trent.”

Trent chuckled.

“Thinkin about tradin though. Found something I wanted to get Kris.”

Chuck rubbed his chin thoughtfully and filed away what Orange revealed for later. Maybe he’d run into his friend again later, when he didn’t have Trent and Orange hanging around.

Orange eyed Chuck and asked, “Who’d you get?”

“Stunt. I’ll get the kid some guitar strings and a few picks or something. That’ll be a damn breeze.”

“Excuse me, did you say you were trading my name, Orange? I thought we were buds.” Trent pretended to pout and Orange rubbed his chin, smirking as he shrugged. He sank back against the backseat and dragged his fingers through his hair. “We are. Just thought it was time I did something.”

“Yeah, same thing with me. I get it, man.” Trent explained. And he smirked to himself, because he had more than a few ideas just how he could go about what he had in mind. 

XXX

I’d just stepped into the hotel lobby when an arm shot out from behind the christmas tree tucked away in the corner. I’d been just about to start swinging when I realized it was Chuckie.

“Dude, what the hell?”

“I have news.”

“Yeah?” I eyed him, wondering what the hell was up. When he explained that he knew who’d gotten Trent’s name and that this person might be willing to trade, especially if I had Kris’ name… I nodded, smirking and giving Chuck a high five. “Take me to this person. Let’s do this. I’m ready for things to… Finally come out.”

Chuck gave me this smirk that gave me the distinct feeling that there was more that he wasn’t saying, but instead of pressing him for it, I chose to follow along. We wound up by the vending machines and while I waited and Chuck texted whoever he was telling me about just a second or two ago, I got myself some junk food and a few sodas for the night, promptly popping the top on a wild cherry Pepsi and taking myself a seat on the floor, my back to the machine.

About a minute later, Orange Cassidy appeared, leaning lazily in the doorway, smirking as he rubbed his chin. “She’s the one, huh?” and he went quiet again, as if he were in thought. “You have Kris’ name?”

“I do, yeah. I already got her presents that I want to give her… Hey, wait… Are you looking for her name specifically?” I flashed Orange a teasing grin and he shrugged, answering with a quiet “Maybe.”

I dug around, producing the slip of paper, holding it out. Orange dug the slip of paper with Trent’s name on it out of his jacket pocket, but before he handed it over, he gave a teasing smirk. “At least you’re cool.”

“I,uh.. Thanks I think?” I dragged my hand through my hair and gave a soft laugh and as we switched names, I asked, “This stays between us… Right?”

“Definitely. See ya around. Chuck, Trent’s looking for you.” Orange nodded towards the check in desk. After another second or two of Chuck teasing me and saying that he should have known I had a thing for Trent because apparently I wasn’t as good at hiding it as I thought I was, Chuck and Orange left, leaving me sitting there to finish off my Pepsi in silence as I waited on the line at the check in desk to die down just a little.

And as I did that, I scoured a few shopping sites, trying to settle on what exactly I wanted to get Trent for Christmas, while mumbling to myself audibly, “I should just show up on the night we’re to meet up face to face in a big red bow…”

From behind me, I heard Kris giggle.

“So you did get Trent…” Kris mused, flopping down to sit beside me. I smiled and nodded. There was absolutely no way I was going to ruin the whole surprise where Orange willingly trading around til he wound up with her name was concerned, so for now, I saw no need in mentioning that I’d traded.

“It might be a little cold for your idea just now.” Kris cautioned and I gave a laugh, shrugging it off. “It was just a thought. I think I’m gonna get him a gag gift the first night.. Something that’ll make him blush.. Oooooh.. Hey.. do you feel like going to that adult store in town with me in the morning before we hit the gym?”

“What are you gonna do?”

“Massage oils. And a new neck pillow for flights. He gets the worst tension in his neck I’ve noticed..”

“Flavored massage oils?” Kris taunted, poking her tongue out at me.

I pretended to be shocked and gaped at her. “I.. Never said that… I mean, not exactly...”

“I know how your mind works, A.”  Kris teased me gently and I gulped, blushing a little over how well she managed to call me out just now. “That is an idea to file away for the future… I mean.. If this all doesn’t backfire in my face.” I pulled myself off of the floor that I’d been sitting inappropriately on, and I reached out, grabbing for the heels I’d pretty much abandoned upon entering the building.

“Still think those new stilettos were good for tonight?” Kris was teasing me again and I laughed it off as I debated on whether I actually wanted to put them back on and have my feet screaming at me in sheer agony. 

I quickly decided that no, no I did not feel up to that tonight.

“They made my ass in these jeans look amazing, so yeah. Yeah I do, Kris.” I taunted, making her laugh and shake her head as she remarked, “Opposites attract is definitely true in your case, huh?”

“God, yes.. And speaking of opposites, there he is now..”

I stared like a helpless idiot as Trent walked past with Orange and Chuck flanking him. Chuck managed to look back and catch me staring, holding up two fingers. To anybody else that would’ve been a peace sign. But to me, that was a reminder.

I had two nights until I was face to face with Trent, revealing myself and probably, everything I felt for the guy.

XXX

“You’re actually giving her the present.. Wrapped like that.” Chuck was trying his best to hold in laughter. Almost failing miserably, but he was trying. Trent eyed the box he held in his hand and smirked at Chuck, nodding. “I am, why? What the hell is wrong with my mom’s leftover wrapping paper, huh?”

,, for starters you wrapped it so bad it reads le tits now, but hey.. You do you, buddy.” Chuck could’ve said it, but what Trent was doing was a huge deal. It was something Trent probably should’ve done a while ago, as opposed to just keeping his feelings to himself and going above and beyond to kind of keep his distance from the girl in question unless they had to interact.

Because yeah.. While all the quiet staring and the pining going on was cute as hell between the two, it was getting to a point where the sexual tension was so heavy that literally everyone around them was suffering for it also.

“Tonights night one, man.”

“That it is, Chuck.” Trent took a long and deep breath, almost as if he were centering himself. He waited until no one was looking and made his way into Catering, over to the decorated tree that sat on top of a table in the back already loaded down with presents.

And when he knew the coast was clear, he stuck the box on the nearest pile and quickly, he walked out of catering.

XXX

Everybody was already crowded into Catering when Kris and I made our way into the room and found a seat close to the door. I let the stilettos on my feet hit the floor with a soft thud and tugged my hair free. The blazer I’d been wearing that evening to conduct my two backstage interviews was sitting on the tabletop in front of me, right next to my travel bag.

Britt named herself Santa for the night, so she was calling out names. I was talking quietly to Kris, only half listening for my own to be called.

We were trying to anticipate who we might have gotten. I was trying to resist the urge to tell Kris that Orange had gotten her name. I was more than a little excited for her because just the sheer joy that she had over having managed to get his name was enough to make me truly happy.

I wasn’t terribly worried about who might have gotten my name, because the important thing here was that I’d taken steps to make sure I wound up with Trent’s name. That I was finally doing something I should’ve done months ago.

Britt must have called my name more than a time or two, because I looked up to find Brandi standing over me, trying not to double over laughing as she held out a hastily wrapped gift.

The wrapping paper caught my eye immediately. Whoever wrapped it had chosen wrapping paper that was pretty.. Shiny and sparkly, with silver snowflakes and pale blue lettering. The bow tied on the package somehow did not fit the packaging itself, but honestly, I just couldn’t stop staring at the way Let It Snow was turned into Le TitS now because of the way my Secret Santa had hastily wrapped the box.

I swallowed hard, getting a bit of a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach because at this point, I was at least 90 percent sure that the wrapping paper itself was a clue of some sort.

“Le TitS now, huh? Hager, are you the secret santa? Because if you’re behind this, man.. I can personally assure you, you dumb fucking Okie, you are.. Not even on the bottom of the very short list of men I’d willingly show my tits to.” I mumbled aloud.

“Well? Are you at least going to open it?” Kris asked from beside me. Brandi was watching expectantly too and under the pressure, I tore into the gift after neatly removing the way the bow had been tied so pretty and so carefully.

I wanted to keep that.

“Ooh, you’re gonna keep the bow, right?”

“It’s beautiful, Fuck yes.” I answered Kris as I gaped at the black velvet box in my hand. The other hand raised, catching in dark waves and tousling as my mouth opened and closed. “This is.. Okay.. Let me breathe here, I…”

I was at a complete and total loss for words suddenly.

And when I opened the box and spied the silver necklace with a shooting star pendant that I’d probably made 3 trips past a certain jewelry store in the mall in town just to stare at it…

Jake Hager spoke up from behind me.

“If you want, darlin. I can fasten it.”

“Ew, no! Fuck right off, you dumb Okie. Oh and if you’re the one who got me this, thanks but… This is as far as it goes, Hager. You’re not, nor will you ever be… Seeing any tits.”

Jake gave me a blank look and shrugged, wandering off. Kris was trying not to die laughing from beside me, as were Chuck,Trent and Orange from the table across from ours. I turned to Kris and held it out carefully. “Will you put it on? You’re probably the one other person I trust to do it without trying to cop a feel at this rate.”

“Except the guy you wish would cop a feel.” Kris muttered, making me gaze briefly at Trent, watching as he opened the tiffany blue and white wrapped gift box that contained what I’d gotten him. 

When I saw the way his eyes lit up, I let out a ragged breath. Somehow, I got the feeling that he’d enjoy the controller. And the neck massager pillow that he was putting around his neck already, a goofy grin playing at his lips as he sank back against the booth and muttered aloud, “Nobody talk to me. I’m takin a nap.” 

I couldn’t resist saying something.

“It’s.. heated, I think? There’s a little button on the back to turn on the heat. I..”

,, you absolute goof, what the fuck are you doing, A?”  my mind shrieked as soon as the words left my mouth. I covered quickly, the words tumbling out of my mouth almost breathlessly as Trent’s eyes fluttered open and locked on me intently. When he licked his lips while still staring, I had to cross my legs under the table.

“It does, huh? Awesome.” Trent flashed me that cocky grin and I wanted to melt. If I thought forming words was a bit of a struggle before, compared to now, it seemed so much easier.

“Yeah.. I uhh.. I have a pink one.” I finally managed to stammer, going back to my own conversation and gushing over the necklace sitting around my neck out loud and excitedly with Kris.

I mean, it wasn’t a lie. I did have a pink one exactly like it. And a red one. And I’d actually said a lot more than usual to him tonight. Without stammering or saying the wrong thing entirely like I tended to on occasion.

XXX

“Did you see her face light up?” Trent was still on cloud 9 after watching her open the secret Santa gift earlier in the night. Now he was texting his mother to see if the gift he’d gotten her for the last night of the gift exchange had shown up yet.

Chuck spoke up, chuckling. “Was funny as hell when she told Hager he didn’t stand a chance in hell, man. And then when he tried to sneak up on her under that mistletoe that Brandi put up earlier, her threatening him with her shoe.”

Trent chuckled, even though his jaw set firmly and he grumbled. Right after Jake had tried pulling that stunt, he’d gotten the guy off to himself and quickly told him if he caught him attempting it again, he was going to take him outside.

Lucky for Jake, Chuck and Orange managed to get between the two. Because Trent was personally beyond fed up of the disgusting way that Jake behaved around her all the time. She shouldn’t have to threaten the guy with mase or a knee to the nuts to make him leave her alone.

No woman should.

“You know.. You could’ve done it, man. You could’ve snuck up on her.” Chuck teased his best friend as he glanced over at him.

“I’m saving that for tomorrow, Chuck. I have a plan, remember?”

“Says the man who wrapped the gift so that it read ‘le tits now’.” Orange chuckled from the backseat.

Chuck and Orange burst into laughter and Trent grumbled, smiling and laughing as he flipped them both off. “Yeah, well neither of you saw to point it out either.”

“I assumed you could read the damn packaging? My bad, Trenty.”

“I was just too caught up in getting to the arena and giving it to her, man. You know I’ve been waiting to do this a while!” Trent groaned as he let his head fall back against the headrest behind it and laughed.

“Maybe you should just let Sue wrap it this time, huh?”

“That’s not entirely a bad idea.” Trent chuckled as he said it, texting his mom to ask if she’d mind wrapping the present for him when it finally got to her place the next morning.

“She knew it said that too?” he grumbled aloud a few seconds later when his eyes scanned his mother’s response text.

[ mama bear ] I wanted to tell you before you left but you were so excited…

[ mama bear ] Did she like the necklace, son? I thought it was beautiful…

[ trentylocks] She loved it, mom. Was excited, doing that cute thing where she talks loud and giggles a lot, talking with her hands. Just wish me luck for tomorrow, please? I’m gonna need it.

[ trentylocks ] She loved the bow you tied just as much, by the way. ;) She kept it. When I saw her leaving the arena, she had it tied around her wrist.

[ trentylocks] Did you still want me to invite her over for dinner?

[ mama bear] You talk so much about her, of course! I have to meet her. Make sure she’s sweet enough for my baby.

[ mama bear ] I see you, trying to get her brownie points. But I’m glad she liked the bow. Says a lot about her that she kept it.

Trent slipped his phone back into his pocket and started to nod off, awakening when Chuck cleared his throat and asked aloud, “So what did you get her for tomorrow night?”

Trent smirked. “For the actual present, I got her a photo album. Because remember that time we were in the airport and her luggage burst? And the pictures inside it went everywhere?”

“Awww, for a cranky jerk, you can be sweet sometimes, Trenty.”

“Look who’s talkin, bigger cranky jerk. I also got her an actual warm blanket. Because she’s always walking around with that fuzzy pink thin one draped around her like she’s cold as hell. And roses. But I’m not givin’ her those until we’re face to face.”

“You giant sap.” Chuck teased his best friend as he grinned. “If it helps, man.. I don’t think you have to worry about tomorrow night going south. I think things might surprise you with how they turn out.”

“Oh you do, huh? What are you now, a psychic, Taylor?” Trent asked, giving Chuck a raised brow, wondering why he got the feeling that Chuck definitely knew more than he was saying.

“No, I just know how to read that particular girl, Beretta.” Chuck smirked, not even having to look over to know that Trent was giving him a dirty look at the reminder that Chuck had become friends with her first.

XXX

[ dad] Well, how did the secret santa go, sweetpea?

[dad] did this Trent like his present?

I smiled as I read the texts from my dad while standing in line to check into the hotel. After a second or two, I answered.

[sweetpea] He did! I’m glad I took your advice and didn’t try to go overboard. Now it leaves the romantic part for tomorrow night. Thank you, sir!

[sweet pea] remember that necklace I told you I was thinking about getting myself? The one like mama’s? I don’t have to… apparently, my secret santa knew somehow that I liked it and got it for me?

[ sweet pea ] But the way they wrapped the present, oh my god. I nearly died laughing.

[dad] you should call around. Find a restaurant. Your mama.. She liked cozy candlelit dinners. Just a thought.

[ dad] they did, huh? That’s good! Be careful driving to the hotel, sweetpea. The news said snow for your area tonight.

[sweetpea] Night, daddy. Don’t stay up all night watching the news or Blue Bloods. Go to bed, sir.

I put my phone away and at the tap on my shoulder, I turned. I found myself body to body with Jake Hager. I raised a brow and bit my lip, stepping away from him as quickly as possible. “What’s up?”

His eyes settled on the necklace and he chuckled. “Do you really think I’d have bought you that cheap lookin crap if I were the guy, princess?”

I glared and started to turn around, rolling my eyes. But Jake produced roses from behind his back. I eyed the roses and him and laughed as I shook my head no. “Life pro tip, Jacob.. Save the flowers for your actual girlfriend? Stop wasting your time with me. I have an ideal man and you sir, are not it. And you never will be.” 

“Yeah? How about given a guy a chance?”

A throat cleared from behind us and a look around Jake revealed Trent standing there, muscular arms folded over his chest as he smirked at Jake. 

“Do you have a fucking hearing problem, Hager? Or are you really that damn dense? She’s told you a thousand times to get bent by now.” 

Somehow, in the midst of all this, I wound up right between Trent and Jake.. with my back pressed right against Trent’s chest. I gulped and tried like hell to hold myself together, but it just wasn’t working.

“Hey, whoa.. Can we just not, boys? Please?” I knew Jake would ignore me because he always does, so when I asked the question, I chose to turn.. Body to body with Trent.. And lock eyes with him, biting my lip and giving him my best pleading look.

Because holy hell, is it awkward when people make a scene like this.

Trent was glaring, tensing up all over. But at my question, he seemed to un-tense just slightly, tearing his eyes off of Jake to gaze down at me. “Yeah. He’s not fucking worth it anyway.”

“Exactly, Trent.” I muttered quietly, swallowing hard because I was lost in deep brown eyes and I knew it. And I couldn’t pull myself away from him, either. 

The clerk’s throat cleared and gingerly, I managed to finally break gazes with him and stepped back, pouting before I turned to face the front and check into the hotel.

XXX

“You ready for this, man? Tonight is the big night.” 

Trent chuckled, nodding. “It is. My mom came by earlier and dropped this off. Already wrapped.”

“You got the roses right, buddy?”

“Mhm. Over there.” Trent nodded to a dozen long stemmed red roses. Almost the same vibrant red as the lipstick she always wore.

He smoothed a hand over his hair and eyed the stupid jacket he was wearing. “This is a bit much.”

“It kind of is, man. A isn’t.. She’s not into male model types, man. Just dress comfortable.” Chuck shrugged as he chuckled. Trent took off the jacket and tossed it lazily at the second bed in the room and after he grabbed his key, he started out the door.

“I won’t wait up for you, man.”

Trent paused and gave him a laugh and shrug as he stepped out and into the hallway.

On the surface, he seemed calm, but on the inside?

An actual nervous wreck.

He knew she liked the presents she’d unwrapped in Catering earlier in the night, she hadn’t been without the blanket that he’d gotten her to unwrap there for the duration of the show. And as soon as she’d opened the photo album, she got the softest smile on her face, trailing her fingers over the cover.

She’d looked around the room and then gone back to whispering to Kris. But he’d managed to over hear her say that she knew it wasn’t Hager, because Hager had the emotional depth of a teaspoon and never would’ve thought to get her something as thoughtful as an actual photo album as opposed to her just tossing her photos in her luggage every time she went on the road.

Trent took a deep breath and made himself focus as he stood waiting on the elevator, goofy grin on his face.

He was meeting her at the town square because there was this huge christmas tree there and he liked the way her eyes lit up every time she saw it. It felt like time dragged at a hellish and slow pace from the time he was out in the parking lot, waiting on the Uber he’d called, to the time that Uber was pulling to a stop at the little park.

When he got out, he caught sight of her, approaching from the opposite direction. So he hung back, watched her walking past as he worked on getting himself reasonably pulled together and mentally prepared to reveal himself to her.

He let her settle in on the bench closest to the lit up tree and after a few deep breaths, he stepped out, roses in hand, clearing his throat.

XXX

[galaxybae] well? Is anyone there?

[galaxybae] are you sure this dress I borrowed was a good idea for tonight, A? I feel so damn naked right now…

[galaxybae] answer your texts woman.

[brunettebarbiedoll] not yet.. What about on your end? See anybody familiar?

I typed in the response to her first text and briefly, because i felt the sensation of being stared at intently, almost to the point of literal eye-fucking… It had my thighs clenching. It had me sitting up, alert and looking around, then pouting when I didn’t see anyone right away. I wandered over to the lit Christmas tree, a soft smile coming as the warm twinkle of soft white lights shined on me.

I felt good about tonight. Tonight’s secret santa gifts had pretty much blown my fear and theory that Hager was my secret Santa out of the water because Hager lacked the emotional depth and the practicality to pick out the gifts that my secret Santa had chosen for me.

At the thought, I snuggled tighter into my jacket, wishing I’d lugged the oversized plush winter white throw blanket along with me for both warmth and the comfort it made me feel.. As if I were being wrapped in a warm embrace whenever I had it wrapped around me.

And it didn’t go amiss by me that it smelled familiar somehow. Like a cologne I’d smelled somewhere, on more than one occasion.

And that thought further had me giving a soft and sappy smile over the thought of the gift. My fingers drifted upward, lingering at the shooting star charm that hung from the necklace that had been my gift the night before.

And I realized that I still hadn’t answered Kris’ two other texts. I sighed and looked around again, still seeing nobody around and yet, still feeling as if I were being visually fucked somehow.

Not in bad way though. Just… hungry, maybe.

,, it’s just the frenzy you’ve got yourself worked up into.”

I eyed my watch. I hoped my secret Santa showed themselves soon, because I still had to get through revealing myself to Trent.

And boy, was I ever a bundle of raw nerves over it.

[brunettebarbiedoll] Still nobody. I guess my secret Santa is gonna remain a secret? Either way, I’m kind of starting to get really nervous because I still have to wait on Trent to get here and reveal myself.

[galaxybae] Don’t you dare leave!

[galaxybae] Oh.. Oh.. i.. I think my person is here. Gotta go, bye!

I smiled to myself and put the phone away just as I felt my eyes being covered with something and then felt myself being turned around, what felt like flower stems being placed into my hands. I caught a whiff of the same cologne that I’d smelled on the blanket earlier and I swallowed hard. “Hey, no fair. You’re supposed to reveal yourself, sir.” I managed to get the words out as my body brushed against hardened muscle when I was pulled closer. So much closer. And arms wrapped around my waist.

I gaped as the fabric that had been placed over my eyes was lowered and it gave way to me standing body to body with Trent. Who was staring down at me intently, this soft smirk playing at his lips.

“Trent?”

“Mhm.” he chuckled quietly, a hand moving from it’s resting spot across my lower back to drag through thick dark hair. 

I couldn’t help the fit of giggles that came. He eyed me with a brow raised and when my giggle fit finally died away, I explained with a teasing smile, “I was supposed to be meeting you here to reveal myself to you.”

His eyes widened and he chuckled. “Vanilla massage oil, hm?”

“In my defense, you always seem tense?” I bit my lip as I laughed softly. I was melting into him, awestruck at the realization that my forehead hit almost perfectly at the center of his chest. He used his grip on my body to pull me up a little and I wrapped my legs around his waist, making him laugh as our mouths brushed against each other clumsily.

“Was it an offer though, hmm?” Trent questioned, licking his lips as his eyes locked on my mouth.

“Possibly. I mean, I am pretty good at massages...” I teased, daring to trace the outline of his mouth with my tongue. Which only had him tangling a hand in the hair at the back of my hair and pulling my mouth against his completely. 

The kiss broke and we pulled apart. I climbed out of his arms and leaned against him, raising to tiptoe to press another kiss against his lips as I muttered, “Are you hungry, Trent?”

“I could eat, yeah.. Why?”

“Well, there’s this cozy little place about a block away, I.. Kind of thought that maybe if things went okay when I had to meet you here, I’d ask you if you wanted to go with me?”

He grinned and slipped an arm around me, pulling me into his side as we made our way down the sidewalk.

“Did you wrap the first present the way you did intentionally?”

“No, I didn’t actually.” Trent answered, giving a sheepish laugh. “Did you think I did?”

“Well, when I thought was Hager, I didn’t think it was a stretch to imagine that yeah, he’d purposely done it. For the record.. If you wanted to see my tits, all you had to do was ask.” I teased, not stopping to think how suggestive what I said actually sounded until it left my mouth and I saw Trent’s jaw drop, and a flash of hunger flash in his eyes as he leaned down and muttered against the shell of my ear, “Ya know… I might actually take you up on that, doll.”

[getsojaded]

chemistry || calum hood

word count: 3.8k+

warnings: mentions of weed, swear words, mention of injury, food & the slightest bit of sex talk

a/n: hey twt moots ;)) anyways, this is inspired by this post! i hope u all enjoy <3

-

It was about 11 pm, and I had just finished taking an unnecessarily large amount of notes for chemistry class. With a sore, shaky hand and a vision that was starting to go blurry, I had finally finished ten pages. Who knew that there was so much information about 5 organic compounds?

I yawned in my seat, stretching my arms out and removing my glasses. I was more than thankful that I can call it a night, and walked towards my bathroom to get ready for bed, which took a good 30 minutes. It usually doesn’t take me that long, but fuck, I was exhausted this whole day. After all my skincare was completed, I walked back to my bedroom and hopped into my bed, prepared for a well deserved rest. After slouching for a good three and a half hours, comforter and pillows had never felt so good against my body. 

Just as I was about to fall asleep, I heard a loud ding! from my phone and I opened my heavy eyes, which immediately annoyed me. I ignored the first one and tried to go back to sleep, but one ding turned into six and I couldn’t take it anymore. I angrily ripped the covers off my body, sitting up right after reaching for my phone on the nightstand beside my bed.

6 New Text Messages from: calum hood

hey wyd rn

can you do me a favour

i need your help

im at this party right now and i’m about to get high as fuck but i forgot about our homework for tomorrow and i was wondering if you could do them for me

you don’t even need to make them look pretty like how you do it just take down the important shit

please

“What the fuck?” I whsipered to myself as I looked at my phone. “Who does this bitch think he is?”

to: calum hood

are you fucking serious right now

from: calum hood

please i’m really sorry LOL i completely forgot about it

i know your smarty pants finished it the second you got home please

i’ll literally buy you starbucks tomorrow morning

As much as I hated to admit it, his last text message kind of convinced me. I was a sucker for coffee, and could really stop spending money on it every morning. But was I really about to lose some more sleep just to do the party boy’s notes? I barely know this kid anyways. How’d this guy even get into college? 

to: calum hood

is it gonna be a venti

from: calum hood:

if that’s what you want, sure

I knew I was going to regret this decision, but I threw on my glasses and put my hair up once again, walking towards my desk. “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” I sighed out, opening my laptop and gathering my supplies together. I unlocked my phone, seeing that the time was 12 am. Am I doing this for coffee or am I doing this because he’s attractive and I couldn’t really say no to him? I groaned and leaned my head on my desk, texting him back.

to: calum hood

i hate you so much

get me a venti iced white mocha no whip and an extra espresso shot

actually no make that two extra espresso shots cause bc of your dumbass im staying up 

from: calum hood

i gotchu angel

thank you so much, see you tomorrow :)

“Fuck off with the petname and the smiley face,” I angrily cursed at my phone, picking up my pencil and beginning to write another ten pages of notes. 

“I hate this bitch,” I said, throwing my pencil onto my desk and slamming my laptop shut. The time was now 3:45 am and tired was an understatement for me. I crawled into bed, falling asleep almost immediatly, hoping that these 5 hours of sleep will give me enough energy to get through class tomorrow.

-

“You have got to be fucking joking me,” I mumbled, reaching over for my phone to turn off the alarm. I was definitely not a morning person, and the fact that I didn’t get at least 7 hours of sleep meant that I was not going to be in a good mood today.

I slowly crawled out of bed and began trudging towards my bathroom, seeing I had gotten a text meesage from the man himself. I rolled my eyes seeing his name pop up, opening the conversation between him and I.

from: calum hood

goodmorning!

to: calum hood

fuck off

I set my phone aside, getting ready for bed in the slowest way possible. I honestly could care less about what I looked like today, so I decided on a hoodie and sweatpants. I went back into my room and packed my bag with everything I needed, including Calum’s stupid study notes. I threw it over my shoulder, putting on my shoes and walking out the front door, into my car. Thankfully my college was not too far from my apartment, so it didn’t matter if I was running a couple of minutes late.

Parking my car and walking towards class, more and more annoyance filled my body, hoping that nobody would say a word to me, or even better, look in my direction. As I walked into the classroom, I walked towards the empty seats in the very back, choosing the one closest to the wall. I got settled into my seat, leaning the side of my head against the wall, hoping that I’d get the tiniest bit of extra rest.

“The last text message you sent to me wasn’t very nice.” I heard a voice beside me say. I opened my eyes and looked up, seeing the stupid Calum Hood. He was holding two cups of coffee - one for me, and one for him I’m assuming - and was wearing a maroon hoodie, which he actually looked really good in.

“I don’t think you deserve to have a nice goodmorning text, because you are the reason I’m in a pissy mood today, thank you very much.” I responded, taking my coffee from his hand and placing it on my desk. I reached into my bag and took the study notes I wrote for him, slapping it onto the desk beside me.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered as our professor began to speak up, indicating that class had begun. “What can I do in order for you not to be mad at me?” I turned to look at him. He had the biggest pouty face I had ever seen, which was absolutely adorable. But I’d never tell him that.

“Just shut up.” I sighed, turning back towards the board, opening my notebook and beginning to take notes. 

Not even ten minutes later, a green sticky note caught my eye as I was writing. My eyes gazed towards the sticky note, scoffing at what was written on it.

Pls forgive me :(

I turned towards Calum, who was currently well focused on the board in front of us. I lightly chuckled, knowing he was more than pretending to actually pay attention in this class.

I thought I told you to shut up, I wrote underneath his writing and stuck it back onto his desk, and continued from where I left off. I got maybe 5 words in before I saw the neon green appear back onto my desk. I can’t shut up if I’m not talking.

I rolled my eyes before crumbling the paper in my hand, looking at Calum once again. “You’re distracting me. What do you want?” I asked him, the brunette boy turning his head to me once again. 

“For you not to be mad at me.” He responded. “What can I do for you to at least smile at me? Besides telling me to shut up.” 

I stared at him with the bitchiest face I could put on, then rolled my eyes and began to take down more notes in my book. First, he makes me write ten pages for him and now he’s distracting me in class. Can he leave me alone for at least five minutes? 

“And now you’re not gonna talk to me. Fine, be that way.” He grunted. The two of went back to what to we were doing for the remainder of class.

-

“That’s all for today folks, I hope you have a good rest of your day and don’t forget to read pages thirty to thirty-five and finish questions one to twenty-seven.” Our professor said to all of the class, which resulted in me grabbing my bag and standing up immediately, wanting nothing more than to just get the fuck out of this place.

Please don’t talk to me please don’t talk to me please don’t talk to me-

“Hey wait,” Calum said and grabbed my hand. 

Fuck

“Yes?” I asked him, turning my body towards him as he let go of my hand. 

“What’re you doing the rest of the day?” 

“Nothing, why..?”

I saw that Calum had the cheekiest grin on his face after I gave him my answer. “As an apology for making you write down my notes, thank you very much by the way, along with making you angry this whole morning, how about we go get breakfast on me, and we can do our homework together, except I will do all the work, and you just copy my answers? How does that sound?”

I thought about it. One part of me just wanted to flip him off, go back home and get the sleep I missed out on last night. The other part of me was actually kind of down for that idea. Free food, free homework answers and I get to hang out with pretty boy? I wasn’t really losing anything here, huh? 

“I mean, I would say yes, but I took my car here and also I’m dressed terribly right now, the last thing I need is for more people to see me looking like this..” I trailed off, looking down at my current outfit and laughing lightly. “Babe, you don’t even look bad whatsoever right now. However, if you insist, you can go home and change and I can come get you when you’re ready. Is that a plan?” He asked in response. First angel, now babe? What is this guy doing?

“I mean.. I could do that...but-” “Pleeaaasee?” Calum cut me off, pressing his hands together, acting as if he was praying. 

“Ugh, fine, I’ll go with you! I’ll go home and get ready, and I’ll text you when I’m done.” I responded as the both of us walked out of the classroom, towards the parking lot. 

“Pinky promise you won’t cancel on me last minute?” Calum asked, extending his arm and putting his pinky in front of me as we reached my car. I hadn’t even noticed that he walked me to my car, which honestly made my heart flutter when I realized. 

“Are you kidding me?” I laughed lightly, taking my pinky and sticking it out with his, interlocking it. “Pinky promises mean everything, sweetheart. I’ll see you later.” He responded, winking at me then walking away. Getting into my car, I hit my steering wheel, squealing while I repeatedly hit my head against my wheel. “Fuckin’ angel, babe and sweetheart?! What’s next?” I asked myself, driving back to my place to get ready for this little study.. session? Hang out? Date? 

I never noticed how nervous I was to hang out with Calum until four different outfits were placed on my bed, with no ability to choose which one looked best. “Fuck, these are all terrible.” I groaned, flopping onto my bed and closing my eyes. I was interrupted by my phone ringing, seeing that Calum was calling.

“I know you pinky promised that you wouldn’t cancel on me, but angel what is taking so long?” He asked, laughing into his question. “I’m so sorry,” I groaned, getting back up and looking at the outfits I planned on my bed. “I’m having a little wardrobe crisis. I have zero idea what to wear.”

“You could’ve showed up in the hoodie and sweatpants and I’d still find you gorgeous,” He responded, making my heart flutter for what felt like the hundreth time today. This man throws small compliments left and right and it’s kind of driving me crazy. “But lemme see what you got planned out. I’ll make it easier for you.” I responded with an okay, quickly snapping a photo of the clothes that were currently on my bed. 

“Okay first off, none of these are bad at all. I think you could’ve chose any of these and rocked all of ‘em. Second, little shirt big pants is always the way to go. I say the second one.” He told me, choosing a white long sleeved shirt and the baggiest light wash jeans I had in my closet. It might’ve been basic, but Calum was right - you really can’t go wrong with a little shirt big pants combination. 

“Okay, thank you.” I sighed in relief, taking the clothes into my hands and walking into the washroom to change. “You can come now, I’ll text you my address. I’ll probably be done by the time you get here.” 

“Now was that so hard?” He asked in response, causing the both of us to laugh. “I’ll see you in a bit. Bye bye!” 

“Bye Calum, see you later.” And with that the call ended. I quickly changed into my clothes, put my laptop in my bag - along with everything else I needed - and slipped my shoes on. Once I finished doing so, I heard a loud honk outside, indicating that he was outside. 

Walking out of my house I saw Calum exiting his seat, walking over to the other side and opening the door for me. “Wow, what a gentleman.” I laughed as he closed my door and got into the drivers’ side once again. “You look great.” He told me, his eyes focused on my outfit. “All thanks to you.” I said nervously, as he started the car. “Where are we going again?” I asked him. 

“You can never go wrong with IHOP,”  He said proudly, with a wide grin on his face. “How’d you know I loved going there?” I asked him, gaining a chuckle from him in response. “Not sure if you knew this, but I’m a mindreader.” He joked, causing me to roll my eyes and laugh in response. 

Arriving at the place and ordering our food, Calum and I began to have a little conversation. It started off with an are you still mad at me? which resulted into talks about other classes, finals and parties. 

“You’re telling me you’ve never been to a party?” He asked in shock, me shaking my head as I took a sip of the water that was given to me. “Are you kidding me? We’ve been in college for what, two years, and you’ve never been to one?!”

“Yeah, in case you didn’t notice, I go to school to learn and not to party. I don’t ask people to take ten pages of notes for me so I could blaze up, unlike somebody I know,” I responded, Calum looking at me in disbelief. “I cannot believe you just called me out like that. I said I was sorry!” 

“Yeah yeah, I know. You’re making up for it with free food and free homework answers, so I decided to get over it.” I responded, laughing. “Also, when are we gonna start doing the questions?” I asked as the waiter came with both of our plates of food, thanking them as we began to eat. 

“I mean, we could go back to my place and work on it, if that’s alright with you.” Calum said, his mouth full of pancakes. “Is that your way of trying to get in my pants?” I asked jokingly. 

“You’re a fiesty one aren’t you?” He asked, with a simple nod from me in response. “Well to answer your question, no that is not my way of doing such a thing, I’d be much more smooth about it.” 

“Oh, so you think you’re slick or something?” “Nah babe, I know I’m slick.” There’s the cocky party boy that I was much more familiar with. I rolled my eyes in response.

“I’m gonna ignore what you just said.. Anyways, I am fine with working on it at your place.” I told him, getting a nod in response. Throughout the whole breakfast, we got to know each other quite well. I learned that he played soccer in highschool, but due to a torn ACL he had to quit. But because of that, he got into music and started playing the guitar. I told him that if there’s enough free time when we finished, he should play me something. He happily agreed to it, saying that I will fall in love with him after I hear his singing. I just roll my eyes at his cocky compliments about himself. 

I also got to hear his totally wild college parties that he goes to, telling me about this one time one of his friends’ houses got shut down due to the various noise complaints from neighbours down the block. “you should come join me in one”, He offers, with a “fuck no” in response from me. 

“C’mon, they’re not that bad. They’re actually really fun, and everybody’s always so nice.” 

“I literally can’t tell you the last time I got high, and the last time I got drunk it was not pretty, I’m retired from that shit.” I said, as he paid for our food and began walking back to his car.

“Oh, so you used to be rowdy?” He asked, the two of us laughing in unison. “High school me was a different story, we don’t talk about that.” I responded. “The things I would do to see that side of you. You gotta go to at least one before you get outta this place. They take a lot of stress off your shoulders for the night.” He told me as we walked towards the front door to his place, which made me laugh at the fact that he tried to make parties seem like a really good thing. A simple Maybe, was all I responded with as we got settled into his apartment, which was fairly clean to my surprise. 

We were currently sitting across each other at his dining table, the both of us reading over the textbook and him answering the questions after every section. He worked effeciently, which also took me by surprise. I underestimated this guy a lot, didn’t I?

A good two hours later, Calum had finished all the questions for homework and I had finished copying them down, thanking him for doing such a thing.

“It’s no problem. I had no idea that the notes were ten fucking pages long, you deserve a break after that- wait, you wear glasses?” He asked me, analyzing them.

“Yeah, only at home though. I don’t really like how they look on me,” I replied, taking them off and rubbing my eyes. He took them in his hands and put them back on me, smiling. “They look really cute on you, I like them.” He said, causing me to blush. “What’re you so flirty for?” I asked. Keep these compliments up and I might just fall in love with you before you even sing, I thought to myself.

“Well, with somebody as pretty as you, I gotta slip in a flirty remark every chance I get, eh?” He smirked, taking my hand, and taking the both of upstairs. “Don’t take this the wrong way, my guitars in my room.” He reassured me as we walked inside his room. He took the guitar from the side of his room, and sat on the edge of his bed, gesturing me to sit down next to him.

“Ready to fall in love with me?”

“Try me, Hood.” 

He chuckled, playing the intro to Sam Smith’s Leave Your Lover. “Holy shit, I love this song,” I whispered, watching his hands strum the guitar.

He began to sing, immediately amazed by his voice. It was so soft and raspy, I literally could listen to it all day. I closed my eyes, leaning my head on his shoulder. He laughed softly when he noticed, continuing on with the song. 

He finished playing the outro, which caused me to open my eyes and look up at him. “So, how was that?” 

“It was beautiful, your voice is so pretty.” I responded, smiling at him. “You should drop outta this whole college thing and just become famous.”

“Oh man I wish, but I think it’s too late for that.” He told me, now leaning on my shoulder, which made me want to scream and kiss him. “Did you fall in love with me yet?”

I patted his cheek with my hand lightly. “Not yet Cal, not yet. Stil kinda angry about that whole ten pages of notes thing.” 

“You’re never gonna let that go, are you?”

“Nah.”

He laughed, then took my hand and intertwined it with his, rubbing circles on it with his thumb. “What if I told you I’d be down to do this again, minus the whole ‘let me do this for you today as an apology’ thing?” He questioned, lifting his head from my shoulder and looking at me.

“What do you mean, ‘this again’?”

“I mean picking you up with a coffee before class, bothering you the whole time, getting breakfast with you afterwards, studying together, and then playing a song for you once we get too lazy to finish our assignments.” He replied with a soft smile that made my heart warm and my cheeks red.

“And what if I told you that I’d be down to do those things aswell?” 

“Well then my love, I will pick you up on Wednesday at 8:15 with a venti iced white mocha with only one extra shot of espresso, because I won’t keep you up to write more notes. After class, I’ll take us to any place you wanna go. Denny’s? IHOP? Waffle House? You name it. Then, we can go back to my place, study our asses off and then I can play you as many songs as you’d like. How does that sound?” He offered, the biggest smile appearing on my face.

“That sounds perfect.”

“Now if we’re going to be doing this... does this mean I can finally take you to a damn party?”

“Fuck off, Hood.”

[veliseraptor]

Top 5 Dorothy Dunnett gut punch moments?

oh man. oh man oh man. Okay, this is like...a selection, of scenes that I thought of first, though as I was writing this I thought of like six or seven others I could’ve included and just. boy!! Dorothy sure does love punching me in the feelings. 

but anyway, here’s at least a sampling of some that hit me every time.

1. The scenes between Richard and Lymond at the end of A Game of Kings. Like, I know it’s a huge swathe of pages but god, the whole thing just guts me every time. When I was in...idk, high school? Middle school? Both? I had this mental collection of “bits of books I reread when I want to cry” and this section of A Game of Kings was reliably one of those. It hits so many of my buttons.

When Amelia read it for the first time she told me it was something I could’ve written (not stylistically, just in terms of content) and I was like. I feel both honored and also called out. 

Feature quote: 

Lymond took his hands from his face. The blood was everywhere now; his torment of grief public, uncaring. “Must I plead?” He stopped in extremity, beaten, shaken by pulses, and then struggled on. “You claim your right of execution...May I not exercise mine? Could all the chains of Threave outweigh what I already bear, do you think? Or all the Tolbooth’s pains be worse than this? ...You can’t relieve me of your weight, or help me, or free me...except in one way.”

2. The fucking...chess scene??? I mean, there was a period of time - and still sort of is! - where just thinking about “come, my love, and say goodnight to the dark” made me want to lie down and cry. And now even more I think the immediately after where Marthe is prying Lymond away from the board and he’s...barely even registering his victory? The whole thing is just an absolute gut-wrench of a conclusion to the Lymond-Gabriel conflict. 

Dorothy Dunnett, thanks for kniving me ten times in the chest, then kicking me in the stomach with the scene afterwards between Francis and Philippa where she sort of emotionally blackmails him out of committing suicide.

Feature quote:

And at the Gaelic, Jerott said, ‘Dear God in Heaven,’ and looked away from Francis Crawford, whose face was that of a man tortured with thirst, or lack of air, or the bitterest hunger. Then Jerott saw that the mutes were closing in, and that in a moment the child would reach Francis’s arms, and he began to run, to spare him the last terrible betrayal.

But Mikal got there first, and swept the child into his own embrace, all carnation and jasmine and soft hair and bright tinkling jewels. ‘Come, my love,’ said MIkal, ‘and say goodnight to the dark.’ And held him close, full of a sweet young compassion, as the little boy died.

3. The scene in The Ringed Castle where Lymond realizes he’s having a Feelings. I should, first off, say that I am not usually one for ~revelation of feelings~ scenes (though I guess I did just list another one for a recent favorite moments meme, look, every so often I am a sap). But not only does this scene have a line that I just think is beautiful (it’s the one about ‘feeling like a dog whose master has just died), it is also just...god, it’s the most painful ‘oh no’ moment I think I’ve ever read, because it isn’t this glorious recognition of a good thing but almost this...dread.

Too late, too late, it had happened.

The way that Lymond greets this feeling is with pain, and with grief. And it is just...a very particular kind of painful to read. Because of the tenderness surrounding it, and the joy of the scene preceding, and then...and then.

Thanks for making a “oh no I’m in love” hurt so bad, Ms. Dunnett, I see how it is. (It’s working for me.)

Feature quote:

He looked at her. The long, brown hair; the pure skin of youth; the closed brown eyes, their lashes artfully stained; the obstinate chin; the definite nose, its nostrils curled. The lips, lightly tinted, and the corners deepened, even sleeping, with the remembrance of sardonic joy...the soft, severe lips.

And deep within him, missing its accustomed tread, his heart paused, and gave one single stroke, as if on an anvil. ‘We’re there, sir,’ Nicholas said.

The air hurt his skin. His nerves, unsheathed, left him over-sensitized and defenceless, as sometimes happened: exposed raw to the touch of his clothes, as if his flesh had been stripped off with acid. He remained perfectly still.

4. The scene in Checkmate where Lymond, uh, “confesses” to Philippa. It’s a mess. It’s a mess and it shreds my feelings to pieces and leaves them in little bloody bits all over the floor. It’s just so much, there’s all this...like, it’s Lymond at his most insufferable making decisions for other people because he thinks it’s what’s best, but it’s also Lymond at his most self-loathing, and it’s like. 

Okay. You know what it is? It is that Dorothy Dunnett does ‘close cut scenes with small numbers of characters crashing into each other at full emotional speed’ really well. It’s so tense - the scene builds and builds and the crescendo moment of Philippa breaking the glass isn’t even the end of it. I feel this scene as I’m reading it, and not just in an emotional sense.

Feature quote:

She was breathing almost as quickly as he was. But she kept her voice calm. ‘As you say, I’m inexperienced. On the other hand, you are not always right. Please listen. Please think. Are you sure, when it matters so much, that you know my feelings better than I do?’

‘No,’ he said. ‘I’m not infallible. You might, without my crediting it, fall deeply in love and for ever, with some warped hunchback whelped in the gutter. I should equally stop you from taking him.

She couldn’t speak. Her breath wheezed in and out. With extreme deliberation, and indeed restraint and moderation as well, Philippa raised her glass and dashed it on the parquet. Crystals frosted the carpet between them, and the wine lay like blood.

Speech came back. ‘God in heaven,’ Philippa said. ‘Do you think that I care?’

He looked up from the mess. ‘I know you don’t,’ Lymond said. His eyes were black, not blue; and there were red splashes on the white velvet. ‘But you must excuse the hunchback, who does.’

5. Christian’s death in A Game of Kings. The thing about Dorothy is the thing where she makes really excellent female characters and then kills them. 

But I think Christian’s death is, in-narrative, one of the most wrenching - because Christian has been, throughout, such a good presence, such a positive presence, so determinedly steadfast and brave and kind - and the fact that her death is ultimately futile is just. 

It makes me want to scream. But in the “THIS IS A MOTHERFUCKING TRAGEDY, I HATE IT, THANKS” kind of way. 

Christian is, viscerally, a casualty of a war that’s not about her. And the way that her death is used, too - as a cudgel, as ammunition - just compounds the tragedy of her loss. 

Feature quote:

Then Lymond picked up Christian’s hand and carried it to his lips, holding it afterward folded in both his own. “More than I ever dreamed of,” he said - and like the serpent she had once called him, snarled voicelessly into Kate’s eyes as she looked up, horror-struck, from what the girl’s lifted hand had left revealed.

For the sheets of creased paper which Christian had brought with such pains from Haddington, which Margaret had found not worth her attention, and which Lymond had at last received, were quite blank.

[elisela]

i was just gonna say......... hs dad!eddie? whose parents think theyd be better off raising Christopher? hs!buck already like I LOVE KIDS? hmmmm

I’m combining these two!

1. Eddie thinks he has the most spectacularly bad luck in the history of the universe; he has a girlfriend for two months, sleeps with her a handful of times, and gets her pregnant. In his junior year of high school. Shannon doesn’t tell him until she can’t hide it anymore, and by the time Christopher is born, her parents have already bought a house halfway across the country and are pushing them to give the baby up for adoption. Eddie wonders if he’s making the biggest mistake in the world, but it sits wrong with him to hand his child over to someone he doesn't know, so he sucks it up and tells his parents. A judge awards him sole custody ten days after Chris is born; five days later, Shannon is gone. 

2. Buck sticks to himself in high school. He’s popular enough; he plays every sport he can just to have a reason to stay out of his house, a reason to be around people who want him around, but he doesn’t really get close to anybody. He’s heading into his sophomore year when he hears about how Eddie Diaz knocked a girl from another school up and after listening to people gossip for three days while he’s forced to wipe up soda spills and tolerate middle aged women rubbing his arm, he finds himself on Eddie’s block. They know each other--everyone knows each other, they’ve been going to the same schools since birth--and both he and Eddie are on the track team, although they’ve only and a few conversations. Still, he feels the urge to check in, because he doubts anyone else is. Eddie’s mom shuts the door in his face for his trouble.

3. Having an infant is hard. It’s harder when you’re a 17 year old fuck up, and even more difficult when your parents don't think you can do anything right and are constantly on you to sign your parental rights over to them. Eddie ends up moving in with Abuela three weeks before his senior year starts, which causes the biggest fight they've had yet and rather than wait for his sister to get back with his car, Eddie grabs the backpack he’s been using as a diaper bag, takes Chris, and leaves the house. They end up at the little cafe half a mile from the high school, and Eddie walks in the door because he has nowhere else to go. When Buck cocks his head and says, “you doing okay, man?”, Eddie almost cries. He hasn’t been asked how he was since he found out Shannon was pregnant.

4. Buck brings him a sandwich and an iced tea and shifts back and forth before asking if he could please hold the baby. He spends the next two hours gently bouncing Chris up and down, smiling at him, until he falls asleep, and rather than give him back to Eddie he eases him into the crook of his arm. Buck loves kids, and he’s always been good with babies in particular; Maddie did a lot of babysitting when he was younger and she’d bring him with more often than not.

5. Eddie and Buck spend more and more time together, usually at Abuela’s, playing with Chris on the carpet or taking him out on walks in the evening after they’ve gotten their homework done. Buck breaks his wrist in early September and, rather than spend his whole time on the bench watching the football team, quits. All the hours he’d spent practicing are now spent with Eddie, trying to make a now five month old Chris laugh. When Buck skips the winter formal because Chris has a fever and Eddie hasn’t slept in nearly 24 hours, Eddie hands the sleeping baby over, watches Buck get settled on the couch, then leans over and kisses him gently.

6. Eddie’s a Mexican-American kid raised in a Catholic family in Texas. With a seven month old. Once the high of being able to kiss Buck wears off, the shame and doubt starts to set in. When he tells Buck, “maybe we shouldn’t do this,” Buck looks at him and says, “Why? You can’t get me pregnant.”

7. Eddie signs up for the Army on his 18th birthday. He doesn’t tell his family. He doesn’t tell Buck. He knows what the reactions will be, but he’s a teenage father who has very little options available to him, and he knows he has to do what’s best for his kid. He puts in to be a medic, figuring that will transfer easily to a job after he puts his four years in.

8. Chris lives with Eddie’s parents when he leaves. Despite Eddie asking them to please let Buck see Chris once or twice a week, they never open the door or answer the phone. He doesn’t see Chris for nearly a month; not until Abuela walks into the cafe with Chris on her hip. Chris reaches out for him immediately, and Buck absolutely does not burst into tears. Abuela tells him that she misses him as well, and lets it slip that she watches Chris on Tuesdays and Thursdays until dinner. It doesn’t give him a lot of time to work with, but he if goes straight there from school he usually has three hours to spend with Chris. 

9. Eddie’s been stationed in San Antonio for almost a year now, and Buck is heading into his senior year. Buck writes Eddie a letter every week--they both have cell phones and they talk every night, but he likes the feel of pouring his feelings out onto paper. Eddie only writes back one time; post-marked the day he had told Buck that he was being deployed. The only thing the letter says is “I love you”. It’s the first time he’s said it. 

10. They don't talk a lot while Eddie is deployed. Buck keeps writing letters and he gets them back sporadically; sometimes three or four will come all at once after two months of not hearing from Eddie. But when he does get them, it’s pages worth. Eddie writes about what it’s like in Afghanistan, writes about all the different people in his unit and where they’re from, what they’re like, writes about times he remembers with Buck. But Buck’s favorite is when Eddie writes about what their life will be like when he’s out: that after spending so much time in the desert, they’ll live by the ocean. They’ll spend days running around after Chris, weekends driving around and exploring, they’ll have jobs they love, and they’ll never, ever be apart.

11. Chris gets his CP diagnosis three months before Eddie’s supposed to come home. Buck doesn’t hear from him until the day Eddie shows up on his porch, crying.

12. They go to the courthouse the day after Buck graduates high school to get married. Eddie signs up for his second tour three days later. He doesn’t tell Buck before.

send me a buddie au & I’ll write 5+ head canons

[3pirouette]

Fic: An Experimental Design (4/?)

Title: An Experimental Design

By: TriplePirouette/3Pirouette

Disclaimer: They're not mine.

Distribution: AO3  Anyone else please ask first :) 

Story Summary: Sequel to “What Number?”, also prompted from Steggy Bingo Bash Prompts.  Takes place about a week after that fic. 

A/N: This continues to satisfy the “Science Experiment” prompt from Steggy Bingo Bash. Please stick with me on this. I won't be able to set up a regular posting schedule, but I WILL finish this. It's just going to take some time with some other writing projects happening at the same time and Real Life taking up more of my week.

Chapter 4: Calm

“Powdered eggs or canned hash browns?” Steve asked, holding up the two options he found in the cabinet.

Peggy winced from her seat at the table, hands wound round her steaming cup of tea. “Those are our best bets?”

Steve shrugged. “Unless you’d like tomato soup for breakfast?”

“Hash browns it is.” She sipped her tea, watching Steve work at the stove. It was domestic and simple and it made her long for the war to end all the sooner. “Do you think…” she trailed off, unsure if she should share the sentiment.

“What?” he asked, separating the sliced potatoes into the pan, eyes firmly on his cooking.

“Well, it just seems that in our current state we’re both quite unable to be apart, and whatever is happening with me is likely medical. So, do you think they’ll… discharge me?” He didn’t answer right away, and she hurried to fill the silence, eyes never straying from the steam coming from her mug. “They won’t discharge you, that’s for sure, but I don’t know what they’ll do with me. I’m not all that useful if you’re—”

She hadn’t noticed that he’d moved to crouch next to her until his hand was on top of hers. He waited until she was looking in his eyes. “Doesn’t matter what they want to do. We’re staying together until we figure out how to help you. End of story.”

All Peggy could do was nod.

~*~

“Jesus, how many did you find?” Howard watched the Commandos stack the piles of paper in his lab.

Jones shrugged. “A lot, but all scattered, like they left in a hurry and stuff fell out of files.”

“No discernable order to the pages,” Morita threw in, “and who knows if they’re even relevant. All in German.”

“I can read some of it, but that doesn’t mean I understand it,” Jones chimed in. “We just took everything we found.”

Howard sat at his desk, letting his hand rest on the piles. “Shit.”

~*~

Midmorning found them settled back on the couch, the small radio in the corner playing soft, slow music while Steve tried his hand at a crossword puzzle he’d pulled from his duffel. Peggy, curled up on the opposite end of the couch, was having a bit more luck settling into her novel.

The slow, calm morning was nice: her cooling tea on the table across from her, Steve at her side, her body finally free of the halting shocks that had sent her to her knees over the last month. She had her head back, eyes closed, just enjoying the silence of the room as opposed to the hustle of the battlefield when there was a solid knock on the door.

While the knock on the door startled her, it positively sent Steve into a spiral. He was on his feet before her ears even registered the noise, pulling her up and shoving her into the kitchen, as far away from the door as he could get her.

Despite her initial protests, she quieted at the look on his face. She’d always trusted him; this shouldn’t be any different. Her heart began to pound as she heard him pull out his shield and he moved slowly towards the door. Maybe he heard murmurs she couldn’t, the cocking of a gun, the smell of explosives… there were hundreds of things his enhanced senses could notice before she could.

If Steve was nervous, she was, too.

Peggy wished she’s had the presence of mind to keep her gun closer instead of in the bedside table. She fumbled through the kitchen cabinets, settling for a knife that barely looked like it would cut through butter.

“Who is it?” Steve called to the door, his voice gruff and low, dangerous. Her heart pounded. She couldn’t hear the answer, but Steve spoke again quickly. “Leave them.”

She heard the door open and close a moment later, and she gripped her butter knife tighter. She counted to ten, and when no more noise was forthcoming, she called out. “Steve?”

“It’s fine, you can come out.”

Peggy slowly leaned out of the kitchen doorway, still brandishing her butterknife. Steve had abandoned his shield by the door and was sorting through two paper bags that looked to be filled with groceries, eyes suspicious. “Who was it?”

He looked up, jaw still tight. “Said his name was Jarvis, that Howard had asked him to drop by some essentials.”

Peggy carefully moved forward, reaching in to the bag and pulling out a small loaf of bread. She shrugged and tried to smile. “Better than soup.”

Steve didn’t smile, didn’t laugh. His shoulders were still tense, corded and tight and ready to react. Peggy stepped closer, reaching out slowly. He looked like a caged tiger ready to strike. “Steve?”

As soon as her hand touched his arm, he breathed a sigh of relief and his entire body seemed to relax. “Must still be tired.” He shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut. “I overreacted.”

“I prefer over to under any day,” Peggy tried to reassure him as she stepped closer and he took her in his arms. The hug calmed them both. With each moment of contact Peggy could feel Steve’s pounding heart slow, and though she hadn’t felt any pain, she could feel her anxiety start to relinquish its hold on her. “Though I am a bit worried.” Peggy leaned back, running her hand over his cheek. “That was some reaction.”

Steve shook his head. “I guess I’m more worried than I thought. As soon as I heard that knock, I just felt this rush of…” He turned his head, kissing the palm of her hand as he tried to find the words. When nothing came, he huffed in frustration. “I just felt like I needed you safe.”

A small smile started to bloom on Peggy’s face as she held him tight. “I am safe, Steve. I’m right here, guarded by the best soldier in the world.”

He moved quickly, desperately, taking her lips. Her surprise was fleeting and she responded quickly, but moved to slow his desperation with gentle caresses over his shoulder and tiny pecks of her lips. She pressed him back, walking him to sit on the couch before straddling him gently, his arms moving around her without hesitation.

“Hold me, Steve,” she instructed softly as she laid her head on his shoulder, worry blooming in her again at his desperate touch. “Just hold me and breathe.”

~*~

Howard loomed over the young man helping to translate some of the papers. In four hours, they’d found mostly scraps of nothing: lunch orders, old memos, and barely legible notes. Until the one page. It was the first promising piece of information and boy, was it a piece of information.

“You’re sure that’s what it says? Howard asked, his voice quiet but forceful.

The young soldier nodded. “There isn’t much there, but what is there, I’m sure.”

It was the last page, and only page they seemed to have, of what looked to be a longer, handwritten document. There were only two sentences on it.

“You tell no one, got it?” Howard pointed his finger in the man’s face, “No one.”

The young man didn’t even look slightly intimidated. “Sir, everything I translate or decode is eyes only to me. I can’t talk about it to anyone.”

“Good. Good.” Howard grumbled, taking the paper. “Look for the rest of this, ok?”

He walked away, trying to figure out how to even begin to explain what this could mean to Phillips.

He’d wait. He’d have to wait until he knew more.

He looked down at the paper, quickly folding and shoving it in his pocket it as he moved through the base, not wanting anyone else to even potentially glance at it.

…potential use as live collateral. Feelings of desperation at separation may prove more useful in controlling the asset than current mind control techniques. Potency of the bond may have the unintended side effect of creating a viable breeding program.  

Peggy was going to kill him. Literally.

~*~

Peggy was curled into Steve’s side on the couch, dozing lightly. After their initial anxiety had faded and Steve’s desperation calmed, being situated with Peggy in his lap had brought up certain other feelings that neither really wanted to ignore. Despite some kissing and very directed touching, they’d managed to keep to their word and avoid anything Howard might have deemed inappropriate.

Snuggling, Peggy thought, was absolutely appropriate given that she couldn’t remember the last time she had a warm, clean apartment with a comfortable bed and soft sofa. Pillowed on his chest, with Steve’s arm around her, she felt perfectly calm and safe.

His arm squeezed her gently. “I can feel you thinking.”

“Only good thoughts,” she murmured. “Is it possible to take a holiday from war?”

His laugh bounced her on his chest. “I guess you could call this that.”

“Seems it, right?” She didn’t open her eyes, just tried to burrow deeper into his side. “Easy to forget everything going on just for a few minutes.”

He hummed in agreement, tucking her as tight to him as he could, equally to keep them both on the sofa and to have her pressed close to him. He moaned as the phone on the table next to them rang, shrill and disturbing their peace.

He reached up, pulling the receiver down to his ear, knowing only a handful of people knew they were there. “Hello?”

“I’m sending Jarvis with the car to pick you up.” Howard’s voice was tense as he spoke over the tinny line. “We need to talk.”

Steve’s eyes were open immediately; Peggy’s head popped up as she felt his body tense. “Something wrong?”

Steve shifted them to sitting as he held the phone for Peggy to hear, too. “Nothing immediate, but we’ve managed to get a couple of clues, and I think we need to move sooner rather than later.”

“Howard, am I…” Peggy didn’t know what to ask, really, but she felt a knot start to burn tight in her stomach.

“No immediate danger. At least no more than usual.” Howard sighed over the line. “Jarvis will be there in ten, ok?”

The line clicked dead as Howard hung up, leaving Peggy and Steve to stare at one another, the peace of the morning broken.

[freddiesaysalright]

Just Like a Woman - Part 12

A Roger Taylor x Reader Story

Summary: You and Roger were once in love when you were young. Only, he went on to be a rock star, and you went on to be a lawyer. Now, quite against your will, you’re representing him in his divorce.

Word Count: 3.1k

Tag List: @psychosupernatural, @someone-get-a-medic, @bensrhapsody, @deakyclicks, @crazylittlethingcalledobsession, @minigranger, @crazyweirdocalledfriday, @the-moving-finger-writes, @assembledherethevolunteers, @rose-writes-prose, @queenlover05, @26-7-49, @drowsebaby, @moon-stars-soul, @im-an-adult-ish, @ixchel-9275, @jennyggggrrr, @zyanmaik, @mypassionfortrash, @a19103, @madeinheavxn, @beepbeephardy, @rrogerchxrm, @qweenly, @blisshemmings, @seasidecrowbar, @internationalkpoplova, @ellystone, @takemetoneverland420, @coffeexcigarette, @lookuptotheskiesandsee, @thatpunkmaximoff, @angelkissys, @rocknroll-stolemyass, @simonedk, @anotheronewritesthedust1, @peterquillzblog, @mrfahrenhcit, @joseph-mozzerella, @theprettyandthereckless, @nixfreak, @johndeaconshands, @rogerandhiscar, @queenmaracasandlove, @sunflower-ben, @cubetriangle, @amy-brooklyn99, @scorpiogemini, @kiainspace, @itsabenthing, @bookandband, @makemeyourwife-loveofmylife, @grazessa, @borhapqueen92, @theonsasheart, @vektorivittu, @chanti-frn, @brianssixpence, @dancingcoolcat​, @xviiarez, @irepookie, @lnnuend0, @rogerxmeddows, @vici-xx, @bellas2silly​,@rogerrhqpsody If you’d like to be added for the epilogue, let me know!

A/N: THIS IS THE LAST CHAPTER! However, there WILL be an epilogue, so it’s not quite over yet!

Warning(s): None!

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5  Part 6  Part 7 Part 8  Part 9  Part 10  Part 11

Part 12 here we go!!!

Two weeks passed. The sentencing was equally as satisfying as the trial. Sully was hit with ten years in prison, but would not be eligible for parole until after serving at least five. You were sure they would appeal, but for now, he was going to be off the streets and Dominique had secured her justice. It made your entire career in law up until this point worth it. 

After the sentencing, Bill called you into his office. You were nervous about it because usually he didn’t have private meetings unless it was serious. You swallowed before walking in. 

“Y/N,” he greeted you. “Thanks for coming up. I know you’re busy.”

“No problem,” you replied. “What did you want to talk to me about?”

“I wanted to tell you how proud I am of you for handling this case,” he said. “You took it on with no experience. You also overcame your own hurt to take on Roger’s divorce. You’ve proven just how valuable you are to this firm these past months.”

You blinked, surprised by the flattery. 

“Well, I - um - thank you,” you said. “What’s brought this on?” 

“We’re growing as a firm,” he said. “And with John retiring, I’ve got to start thinking about his replacement.”

John was the other senior partner. He was Bill’s professor, and they began the firm together. Your stomach jolted. Was he saying what you thought he was saying?

He twirled his pen between his fingers and glanced down at a packet of papers on his desk. 

“This is a new contract for employment,” he said. “For you. To become a partner.”

“A senior partner?” you questioned. 

He smiled. “Just partner for now. But that is the track I see for you.”

You almost squirmed in your seat with joy. To become a partner was a dream of yours. To be on track for senior partner was even more pleasing to hear. 

“What do you say?” he asked. “We’re a good team. You deserve to help me run this place, especially after what you’ve recently accomplished.”

A smile spread across your face. 

“I say hell yes,” you told him, beaming.  

“Wonderful,” he replied. “If you read the contract, you’ll see your salary increase.”

You reached out and picked up the packet. You scanned the first page until you found the number. Your stomach did a flip at the offer and your eyes went wide. 

“What?!” 

He smirked. “That’s just a little less than I make. I thought that was fair considering how great an attorney you are.”

“That’s a lot of money!” 

“Nothing that you don’t deserve.”

You put the papers in your lap and looked at him with your mouth hanging open. 

“This is incredible, Bill,” you said earnestly. “Thank you.”

“Thank you,” he returned. “I’m looking forward to this.” 

Feeling completely elated, you signed the papers. Afterward, you called Roger to tell him the good news. 

“A partner?!” he gasped. “Y/N, that’s amazing! Congratulations!”

“Thank you, sweetie!” you replied. “I just can’t believe it! I mean, Bill did so much of the work for Dominique’s case, and he guided me through all of it, so I was just really shocked! But I’m excited I can hardly stand it!”

“Tell you what, this calls for celebration,” he said. “How about I take you to a special lunch tomorrow and we can toast to your promotion?”

“I’d love that,” you told him. 

“Perfect,” he said. “I’ll see you tonight, love.”

“See you tonight.”

You hung up and giggled to yourself. You could barely contain your emotion. Everything was coming together, like Roger said. You were looking forward to your future with him, and your promising career as a partner. 

The next day, Jane came into your office first thing in the morning.

“Y/N, Miss -” she began, but Miss Thomas swept by her and marched into your office.

“Miss Thomas needs to see you,” Jane finished, shooting the woman an annoyed glare. 

“Yes, Jane, I can see that,” you sighed. “You may go.”

She nodded and closed the door. You looked at Miss Thomas. 

“Lucy, how can I help you?” you asked.  

“I need you to help my father with his wrongful termination suit,” she said, swinging her hair behind her shoulder. 

“Okay, what does he do?” you asked.

“He’s a primary school teacher,” she said.

“And why was he fired?” you wondered.

“Because he believes he’s Santa Claus,” she told you simply.

You blinked. “I - I’m sorry?” 

“He told the children that he’s Santa - which he believes - so the headmaster fired him,” she went on. “It’s completely unfair. What, just because he’s Santa means he doesn’t have a right to work?”

“You do know that he’s not really Santa Claus, right?” you asked slowly, shock still coming over you.

“There’s no way to prove that he isn’t, really,” she said with a shrug. “Whether he is or not isn’t for me to decide. The point is, he shouldn’t be fired for it.”

“When’s the court date?” you asked, ignoring the ridiculousness of it.

“Tomorrow,” she said. “Can you meet with him today?”

Your eyes went wide. “Tomorrow?! Why am I only just learning about this?!”

“He had another lawyer, but he was terrible so I fired him,” she answered. “You’re the best lawyer I know, so I came to you.” 

“I can meet with him today, but it’ll have to be over lunch,” you said with a sigh. “I’m booked the rest of the day.” 

“Great, I’ll see you at noon,” she chirped. 

She stood up, turned on her heel and sauntered out of your office. You heaved another sigh. You had so been looking forward to your lunch with Roger, but now you were going to have to call and cancel. But as you picked up the phone, you heard the now familiar laugh of the little boy. You whipped around and spotted him crawling beneath the window behind your desk. 

“What are you doing down there?” you wondered, smiling at him. 

You had seen him at least once a day for the past two weeks. You told only Roger, who insisted you see a psychiatrist. Or maybe even a neurologist. You refused because going to the doctor was your absolute least favorite thing to do and you were certain the visions would stop. Only, they weren’t. You were beginning to consider Roger’s idea. Especially now that you were talking to him. 

He only giggled before disappearing as he always did. You shook your head, amused. Then you dialed Roger. The phone rang, and as it did, you got an idea. 

“Hello?” Roger’s voice came through on the other end.

“Rog?”

“Yes, love?”

“Could you meet me at my office for lunch today instead of the restaurant?” you requested. “I’m meeting a last minute client and I could use your help.”

“Really?” he questioned. “Sounds odd. And what about our celebration?”

“It’s Miss Thomas’s father,” you told him. “Can we celebrate tonight instead?”

“I can’t imagine what he’s like,” he said with a chuckle. “Of course we can celebrate tonight. I’ll change the reservation.

“Thank you so much,” you replied. “Get here around noon, yeah?”

“I’ll be there.”

“Love you!”

“Love you more.”

You hung up, humming contentedly. 

He made good on his promise. In fact, Roger arrived before Miss Thomas and her father. You explained to Roger what she had told you that morning, but didn’t tell him the vital question you were going to ask. 

Miss Thomas entered your office, accompanied by the kindest looking elderly man you had ever seen in your life. You wondered how he could have fathered someone like her. He was round, with cherry red cheeks, and a jolly smile. He wore a black peacoat, but you could see the red trousers beneath it. On his feet were black boots. Atop his silvery white mane of hair, he wore a red Santa hat. As he made his way through the office, he wished everyone a happy Christmas. Until finally, he was at your door. 

“Mr. Claus,” you said respectfully. “Thank you for taking time to see me today.”

“Thank you, Y/N,” he replied. “This whole business is really throwing off my schedule. And this is a very busy time of year for me.”

“I imagine so,” you returned. “Please, have a seat.”

“Thank you,” he said kindly, and he sat in a chair across from your desk. 

“Tell me a little bit about your case,” you said. 

“Well, for most of the year, I teach primary school,” he explained. “But of course, the closer the holidays get, the busier I get. So, I told the children this and why I was so busy, and then some parents got upset and the next thing I knew, I was fired.”

“I’m sorry,” you told him. “Well, we’re going to try and get you your job back, sir. Only, we have to prove that what you’re saying isn’t proof of diminished capacity, which is what the headmaster is claiming.”

“I don’t understand all these legal terms,” he said with a shrug. “I just know that after delivering the presents this year, I won’t have the usual children to look forward to.”

“Mr. Claus, have you ever seen this man before?” you asked, pointing to Roger. 

Mr. Thomas laughed heartily. “Well, of course I have! But not since he was a boy! How are you, Roger?”

“Um...fine?” 

Roger raised a concerned eyebrow at you. He clearly had never actually met this man in his life.

“Mr. Claus, do you know Mr. Taylor from his band, Queen?” you asked. 

Mr. Thomas shook his head. “I’m afraid not. Roger stopped writing to me when he was ten, and of course with all the new children, we lost touch.”

“Mr. Claus, how many children does Roger have?” you asked. 

“Why, he’s got two!” Mr. Thomas said excitedly. “Little Felix and baby Rory. Both very good children who will be getting sweets in their stockings this year!”

Roger’s eyes went wide as an owl’s. He looked over at you again. 

“I’ve never shared my children’s names publicly,” he said. “Ever.”

“And of course, there’ll be another next year, though he hasn’t got a name yet,” Mr. Thomas added with a twinkle in his eye. 

You froze as you absorbed those words. 

“I...I’m sorry, what?” you squeaked with shock. 

Miss Thomas looked at you like you were an idiot. 

“You’re pregnant, Y/N, didn’t you know?” she snapped. 

“How could I possibly know, I haven’t even missed a period!” you protested. 

You looked desperately at Roger. The color had drained from his face. You gaped at each other, in complete disbelief. 

“You’ve seen him, haven’t you?” Mr. Thomas said. “Your son?”

“M-my son?” you sputtered. 

Was that the little boy you were seeing? Was that why he resembled Roger with that little piece of you? 

Mr. Thomas’s eyes sparkled again as he winked at you. 

“I...I have been seeing a boy, but I didn’t…” you trailed off, brain muddled with everything you were experiencing.

“He’s trying to get your attention, Y/N,” Mr. Thomas said. “Have you spoken to him?”

“I’ve tried, but he always disappears,” you admitted, unsure what made you comfortable enough to say it. 

“He’s telling you he’s on the way,” he continued. “You ought to schedule an appointment with your doctor.”

You still couldn’t quite believe what was happening. You had no anticipated Mr. Thomas knowing about Roger’s children, much less the one that might exist in the future. And yet, to think that you might be carrying Roger’s son made you happier than you could recall feeling in years. 

“Mr. Thomas, I will take your case,” you finally said. 

“Hold on, this must be a trick,” Roger interjected. “I’m famous, he could have known -”

“Not if you’ve never shared their names,” you cut across him. 

“What if he’s a journalist who could somehow gain access to -”

“Roger, he’s a schoolteacher,” you interrupted again. Then you looked at Mr. Thomas. “And so much more.”

You smiled at him, which he returned. Roger was still struggling.

“This is crazy,” he said. “It’s absolutely mad.”

“There’s only one way to be sure,” you said.

You had Jane schedule you a doctor’s appointment that afternoon. An at-home pregnancy test would not do for this occasion. Roger insisted on coming with you, so before you knew it, you were sitting on an exam table, swinging your legs with anxiety. Roger was pacing in front of you. The results of this would mean Mr. Thomas was telling the truth, but it meant even more for you and Roger.

“Rog, if we are pregnant,” you began with a sigh. “What...what would you like to do about it?”

He looked at you and his brow furrowed. “How do you mean?”

Tears started to well up in your eyes. “I mean, would you want to keep it, or…?”

“Oh, my love,” he said gently, striding over to pull you into a hug. “Of course I want to keep it. It’s our child.”

“I know, but we’ve only just got back together, and we aren’t married,” you went on.

“Would you like to be?” he asked.

You blinked. “What?”

“Married,” he said. “Do you want to get married?”

“Is this a proposal?” you returned.

“It might be,” he replied. 

You frowned. “Roger, I don’t want to get married just because there might be a child. I want you to marry me only if you really want to marry me. And if you are going to propose, it can’t be in a bloody doctor’s office.”

He chuckled. “Don’t get upset, it was just a way to start the discussion.”

A beat passed and he became serious again.

“Y/N, I want to marry you because I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone,” he said. “The only thing more foolish than getting married would be not getting married because we have wasted so much time already.”

Your mouth began to fall open as you looked at him.

“And no, this isn’t an official proposal,” he said. “I know the one you’ve always dreamed of. But this is where my heart is and I want you to know - I’d marry you right this fucking second, baby or no baby.”

“Rog, I -” you began, but then the doctor walked in. 

“Well, Miss Y/L/N, it looks like you are pregnant,” she said. 

The words washed over you. Pregnant. With Roger’s baby. The dream you had always wanted since before you even knew who you were. 

“I...I am?” you asked. “Are you sure?”

She chuckled and then turned the paper in her hand to show you. 

“I’m sure,” she said. “How did you know if you hadn’t missed a period?”

You looked between her and Roger, scrambling for an answer. 

“Father Christmas told us,” he said simply.

She blinked and looked at him like she hadn’t heard him right. “Father...Christmas?”

He nodded. “Father Christmas.”

“Well, I can’t exactly argue with that, can I?” she teased, smiling again. “So, we should start you on a few things to keep you and your baby healthy…”

She went on, and you tried to pay attention, but the only thing you could think of was the life you now knew existed within you. You looked down at your stomach, thinking of how it would look in nine months. You were having a baby. With the man of your dreams. You looked up at Roger, who was listening intently to the doctor. You were so grateful that you had found him again, you felt your eyes get warm with tears.

“Y/N?” the doctor said, looking at you with concern. “Are you alright?”

You nodded and swallowed the lump in your throat.

“Yeah, um, could we just have a minute?” you choked out.

“Of course,” she agreed. “Just call me if you need anything.”

She stepped out of the room and you looked at Roger through your tears. A shaky smile formed across your lips as you met his gaze.

“We’re having a baby!” you sobbed.

You slid off the exam table and threw yourself into his arms. He laughed as he caught you. Giving you a squeeze, he closed his eyes to the feeling of you against him. This was everything he had ever wanted as well. To be with you. To have children with you. To love you for the rest of his life.

“I love you so much,” he said, choking up himself. “I’m so happy.”

“Me too,” you returned. “Happy Christmas, Roger.”

“Happy Christmas, Y/N.”

You went to dinner that night as planned, only without the champagne. While you were originally intending to celebrate your promotion to partner, you were thrilled to celebrate a more important promotion - to mother. You felt this was the one that would change you the most, and you couldn’t wait to see how.

As you and Roger walked back to your flat, you passed some carolers. Among them stood the little boy. He had a mischievous grin on his face that made you look at his father and smile. The boy looked at you and waved before running off and slowly fading out. The wave didn’t feel like a goodbye. It felt more like “see you soon.” 

You were dragged to a stop because Roger had halted on the sidewalk.

“Rog?” you asked. “What is it?”

His eyes were fixed on the spot the boy had just disappeared from.

“Was that him?” he wondered, looking at you.

“You saw him?!” you cried.

“I did!” he returned excitedly. “He just waved and ran off! Was that him?!”

“Yeah!” you told him. “That was the boy!”

You took a giddy moment together and clasped hands.

“I’ve got the feeling we won’t be seeing him again,” you said. “Until, y’know, he’s actually here.”

“This feels so surreal,” he replied. “I can’t believe we’ve seen him.”

“It does all seem to be so magical,” you agreed. “But I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy. I know you’ve done this already, so -”

He cut you off with a sweet kiss.

“Y/N, no matter how many times I’ve done this, the thrill of being a father again doesn’t get old,” he said. “And to have a baby with you….well, you’re all I’ve ever wanted. I am just as excited now as I was with Felix. Maybe even more so.”

You beamed at him.

“I love you, Roger Taylor,” you said. 

“I love you more, Y/N Y/L/N,” he returned.

You kissed there in the street, caring nothing for the busyness around you. All that mattered was the man in your arms, the baby in your belly, and the future before all three of you.

[flamyangelwings]

For a Given Value of 'Fine' Chapter 3

I swear, this was supposed to be a oneshot ^_^;

@winterpower98 just gets too many anons that inspire me. But this is the last chapter, I swear. I just needed to add Tang and the PowerPoint.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/29295903/chapters/73944804

There was something wet on his face.

That was the first thing MK registered when he woke up followed by the fact that, while his throat was a bit less sore, his head was still killing him, especially right behind his eyes, and that he felt...weirdly spent for how little he remembered exerting himself. He let out a quiet sigh and rubbed at his face, realizing in the process that the wet thing had been a cool cloth resting on his forehead and surely he didn’t have that bad a fever? The next thing he noticed was that he was staring at his own ceiling, which was weird since the last thing he remembered he had been miles away from home.

He was definitely in his bed, but...when had he gone home? He remembered climbing out his window and going up to Flower Fruit Mountain for training, and the Monkey King having hime meditate over tea, and then...Oh. Oh. And then Pigsy had shown up. Oh, Pigsy had called him Xiǎotiān. Oh, he was in so much trouble.

MK stared at the ceiling for a few minutes just regretting his life decisions, or at least the decisions of...that morning? The previous day? How long had he even slept?

He had known that Pigsy and Tang wouldn’t be entirely pleased with him, if they found out he’d gone to train when they thought he was “too sick to work”, but he hadn’t realized they’d be that displeased!

A soft rustling of paper caught his attention and, when he turned his head, MK was surprised to see Tang sitting at his desk reading. He tried to sit up but the motion sent his head spinning and MK slipped sideways into his wall with a gasp that caught in throat and quickly turned into a coughing fit.

“Oh!” Tang said, nearly dropping his book in surprise, “MK, you’re awake!” He placed his book aside quickly and jumped up to help MK sit up and pat his back. “How do you feel?” he asked, once the cough had subsided, feeling Mk’s forehead at the same time

“MmfineMisterTang” MK mumbled, attempting a reassuring smile that he could tell came out more like a grimace.

Tang’s glasses seemed to glint in the light as he looked at MK with a piercing gaze “Do you want to try that again, Xiaotian?”

MK flushed and ducked his head at the look and the usage of his proper name and bit his lip “My throat’s a lot less sore, but my head still hurts and it also kind of feels fuzzy.” he admitted reluctantly, staring purposefully at one of the drawings on his wall instead of Tang “And I’m a bit...I'm really dizzy.”

“Yes, that makes sense, some of that is probably being caused, in part, by dehydration,” Tang said, fixing MK with a look of displeasure, “which tends to happen when people decide to exercise, or go near volcanoes, or do both, with a fever.” he grabbed a bottle of water that MK hadn’t noticed before and handed it to him “What were you thinking?”

MK took a small sip of the water to avoid having to respond before realizing how thirsty he was and taking a deeper drink as Tang pressed on “How many times have Pigsy and I told you that you need to rest when you’re sick?”

“I know,” MK tried to argue, giving a stubborn pout “but I was fine! I barely had a fever! The world doesn’t-”

Tang clapped a hand on MK’s shoulder and gave a light squeeze, causing MK to pause in the middle of his sentence, “I know full well what your parents told you.” Tang said, spitting out ‘parents’ like it was a curse word, “And we have talked about it before. The world might not ‘stop because you have a runny nose’, but that doesn’t mean you can’t. Or won’t, MK. Did you even think about what could have happened? You could have fainted while on the way to the mountain, while you were in the air or over the ocean. You could have died, MK.” Tang’s grip on MK tightened as he said that, and MK felt a rush of shame as he pictured Tang sitting alone in the noodle shop, not knowing if he was alive or not, waiting for Pigsy to find him and bring him home.

“...I’m sorry Mr. Tang.” MK said in a small voice “I really thought I was-”

“Fine?” Tang repeated dryly, before taking a deep breath to calm himself “MK, what does ‘fine’ mean exactly?” he asked calmly “It clearly doesn’t mean ‘healthy’, since you’ve repeatedly claimed you were ‘fine’ when you were obviously sick, and don’t get me started on the number of times you’ve said you were ‘fine’ and on the verge of an emotional breakdown or hiding an injury!”

MK bit his lip but didn’t answer, mostly because he didn’t have an answer, fine was...fine. It was...what did fine mean?

“Anyway,” Tang continued, unaware of the mental upheaval he’d just caused with his question, “the Monkey King has given you the rest of this week, and at least part of next week off from training. He said that if he sees you on the mountain before Pigsy gives you a clean bill of health he’ll bring you back here himself. The real question is whether I am going to have to stay up here to keep an eye on you or if we can trust you to stay put and rest.”

MK winced at that statement, he hated the idea that he’d even slightly damaged Pigsy and Tang’s trust in him even if he could admit that, in hindsight, he probably deserved it. “I’ll stay put Mr. Tang.” he promised sheepishly, fiddling with the now-empty bottle in his hands until Tang grabbed it from him and started to refill it.

“Good.” the older man nodded with a soft grin that then faded into a sharp look that sent chills down MK’s spine “That means I’ll have plenty of time to work on a little...presentation for you.”

MK froze at that statement before groaning in despair and collapsing backwards onto his mattress. He sent the scholar a pleading look but held his tongue. The last time he had made the mistake of complaining about Tang making a slideshow to lecture him, he had been seventeen and the man had made him write a five page essay on the subject instead, with proper sources and citation, and had refused to tell him any stories about the Monkey King until he had finished it.

MK would take the slideshow over repeating that experience any day.

“Don’t give me that look, MK.” Tang chided, handing back the bottle and crossing his arms, “you knew full well what you were doing, and I care about you far too much to let you pull stunts like this without consequences.”

“Yes Mr. Tang.” MK sighed with a pout, taking another drink of water

Tang picked his book back up and patted MK on the head “I’ll tell Pigsy you’re alright and let you get some more rest.” he said, heading out of the apartment, MK sunk back onto his mattress with a huff, and covered his face with an arm.

The next week and a half? At least? This was going to be so boring!

-----

It was.

The next two weeks were increasingly dull. For the first few days, Pigsy and Tang constantly came up to his apartment to bring him food, or check his temperature, or just to ‘check up on him’, which and MK just knew that actually meant ‘check that he was still there’. And that stung a bit, the confirmation that he’d messed up badly enough that Pigsy and Tang didn’t trust him to keep his promise to stay put. MK knew he deserved it but...it still stung.

Pigsy had apparently texted Mei when he was missing, because she showed up and gave him a hard time for being ‘an absolute moron’. Once he filled her in on the rest, she gleefully teased him for being ‘all but grounded by his dads” which MK loudly shushed her about, worried Pigsy or Tang might hear her. If he had his way, they would never find out he felt that way about them. It wasn’t that he thought that they would think it weird or reject him for it, but it’d make everything weird to say it out loud.

Tang borrowed several new books from the library for MK to read, and it had only taken a couple for him to realize that the books had a common theme. Every. Single. Book. Had one of the characters getting sick, ignoring it, and getting worse. Sometimes even dying because of it.

Tang could be very subtle if he wanted. Apparently, this was not one of the times Tang wanted to be subtle.

Once his fever finally broke MK was allowed to do a bit of exercise, just so that he didn’t get too out of shape, but only under Pigsy’s supervision and only for a short amount of time every day. MK didn’t dare try and do any extra, he knew if he did and he was caught, not only would Pigsy place him firmly back on ‘bed rest only’, but he’d also probably damage their trust in him even more.

After two weeks, MK finally got back to full health.

-----

As eager as he was to finally get out of his apartment again, MK had also been dreading the day when Pigsy decided he was fully recovered and that day had finally arrived, emphasized by Tang showing up with a folding chair under one arm and a bag that MK just knew had his laptop in it.

MK slumped on his bed, trying his best not to glare at Tang’s laptop as the older man hooked it up to his TV. As he fiddled with one of his stim toys, the screen was suddenly lit up by a plain grey rectangle with “The Hazards and Long Term Repercussions of Straining the Human Body While In Poor Health” written across it.

Tang handed MK a binder with the same words on the cover page and pulled out a collapsible pointer.

“Alright, open your handout to the first page, we will begin with the basics. How stressing your immune system can prolong your recovery period.”

Fifteen minutes later

“And that covers the dangers and long term side effects of heat exhaustion, if you turn to page eight, we can start talking about Chronic Fatigue Syndrome.”

Ten more minutes later

“After pneumonia, the next on the list of diseases that can be acquired from stressing yourself or ignoring your body when ill is bronchitis.”

------

After a total of 45 excruciatingly boring minutes, Tang finally put down the pointer and MK closed the binder with a sigh of relief and practically collapsed backwards onto his bed.

“And what have we learned?” Tang prompted as he unplugged his laptop and put it away

“Not to make you mad at me unless I want to be bored to death?” MK tried to joke, before ducking his head at Tang’s sharp look and sighing “It’s important to rest when I don’t feel well and not just try to power through it because I could make myself way worse and permanently mess up my body.” he recited, hoping that the answer was thorough enough

Tang looked at MK and raised an eyebrow, clearly wanting something more from his response and MK sighed, “And just because the world doesn’t stop running when I’m sick doesn’t mean I need to keep going.”

That got a pleased nod from Tang, who then sat down on the bed and ruffled MK’s hair

MK pouted up at Tang, free to complain now that the lecture was over and he was safe from the threat of having to do homework “You’re really, really, good at making really boring slideshows.” he grouched, readjusting his position so that he was leaning against Tang

Tang chuckled and gave MK a fond smile “Thank you. I had two awful semesters of university with one particularly dull professor to learn that from. That man could make anything sound dull.”

“You learned well then.” MK teased, his pout melting into a teasing grin that Tang returned, jokingly cuffing MK lightly on the head.

The two sat in comfortable silence for a bit, before MK’s eyes darted up to Tang somewhat nervously “You guys...you still trust me, right?” he ventured “Now at least? Mostly?”

“What?” Tang’s gaze snapped to MK, brow furrowed in confusion and alarm, “Of course we trust you! Why is that even a question?”

“Well you said…” MK floundered “You asked…After I snuck out. You weren’t sure if you could trust me to stay in bed. And then you and Pigsy kept coming up to ‘check on’ me” MK quoted, putting finger quotes around ‘check on’, making his opinion on what they had actually meant clear.

Tang stared at MK for a moment, eyes wide in shock, before taking off his glasses and rubbing at the bridge of his nose. After a few minutes of silence Tang let out a heavy sigh, reached around MK and pulled him into his side giving him a tight, albeit one-armed, hug “MK, I’m so sorry. I should have realized saying it that way would affect you. Pigsy and I trust you with our lives. We’ve always trusted you! I swear, we really were checking on how you were feeling, we’ve never seen you that sick before and we were worried!”

“Oh.” MK didn’t quite know what to say to that. He’d been worrying about having broken Tang and Pigsy’s trust in him for nothing? That was...great. It actually was great! MK had never been so glad to find out he’d been overreacting to something! He let out a relieved laugh.

“That’s...good. I’m...That’s good.” MK grinned, relaxing into Tang’s hug “So...Anyway…” he grinned up at Tang eagerly “I’m healed...And I sat through the presentation...So…..” he gave Tang a pleading look that was betrayed by his lips tugging into a mischievous smile

Tang laughed “oh, fine” he sighed in mock irritation. He reached into the bag that his laptop was stored in and pulled out a well worn leather book. He scooched back so that he was sitting comfortable against the wall, MK following him, and opened the book to a bookmarked page

“Let me tell you about the time Sun Wukong, Zhu Bajie, and Sha Wujing got into a prank war that ended with all three of them dyed different colors....”

-------

MK: Pigsy and Mr. Tang can never find out I see them as my dads. Also MK: Literally called Pigsy ‘dad’ to his face while out of it from fever and drugged tea

That book may or may not be Tang’s personal journal chronicling The Journey. I made the story up because it seems like something that could have happened.

[triptychexe]

TITLE: Start SUMMARY: The start of Teo and Kim Taehui’s love story. WORD COUNT: 3.5k GENRE: fluff! PAIRING: Teo x Kim Taehui  WARNINGS: none! other than it being poorly edited. A/N: Please find Kim Taehui and the other Neostar Entertainment artists mentioned at @neostar-entertainment! Thank you David for proof reading + editing and making this collaboration so fun :(( !! 

“Ugh, mine tastes weird.” Taehui made a face, recoiling himself at the taste of his coffee. He offered the straw to Teo, who sat next to him stiffly. Teo just gave a short shake of his head. He wasn’t sure if he could stomach anything right now. 

Taehui gave the other man a questioning look. Teo rarely declined Taehui’s coffee offers. “Injung, what’s up?”  Injung gave a little huff. If you told him a month ago that he’d be on a first-name basis with one of his favorite singers, Teo would have laughed in your face. Now he was sitting in Taehui’s home, watching as the artists of Neostar Entertainment conversed among themselves while they waited for Taehui to present his album. 

Injung was used to having his work be put in the hot seat, but he didn’t know what kind of reactions the artists of Neostar would have. Would they be blunt about their opinions? Sugar coat their reactions? Sit with a poker face? 

“I just... Don’t know what to expect. That’s all.” Injung said, rolling up the cuffs of his button down shirt anxiously. Taehui hummed in understanding.  “Don’t worry too much. The kids are all softies.” The CEO grinned fondly. “And I think the album will be a pleasant surprise for them.” 

Injung gave a short chuckle, remembering the day that Hak Bonghwa called him to his office for a 'pleasant surprise' that ended up changing his life. 

Teo can still remember how hard his hands shook, causing his coffee to teeter over the lip of the cup as he sat across from his boss. Hak Bonghwa was reasonable for the most part, but Teo never really knew when it came to the older man. To Injung, a pleasant surprise would be getting an Edible Arrangement. To Bonghwa, a pleasant surprise could be military enlistment with a friend of his choosing.

"I have some exciting news." Hak Bonghwa had said, a proud smile on his face. "You've been requested." 

Injung arched his eyebrow at the vague explanation. 

"Requested for what? A birthday party? A wedding?" Teo wondered.

Hak Bonghwa chuckled. "Not quite." He crossed one of his legs over the other in a dignified way. "Kim Taehui from Neostar Entertainment is looking for new writers on his upcoming album... He requested you to be one of them." 

Injung's brain melted. Kim Taehui, one of his favorite musical artists, wanted him to write for his album? Kim Taehui knew who he was? The concept was mind boggling. Teo placed his coffee cup down before he dropped it in shock. 

"Wait, hold on... Let me get this straight." Injung licked his lower lip and stretched his hands out in front of him, ready to animate his thoughts. "Kim Taehui contacted you? Did you respond?" 

"Oh, yes, right away." Hak Bonghwa nodded importantly. "I told him you'd be delighted. You're scheduled for a meeting tomorrow at one at Neostar Entertainment's building." 

"You-" Injung thought he was going to pass out from all the information he was being given. "You said yes? Before asking me?"

Hak Bonghwa frowned, giving Injung a pointed look. "This is good for you, Injung. You need to start thinking of your future. You're too talented to not pursue lyric writing after you retire. Being credited for songs other than your own makes you look more professional."

Injung opened his mouth to argue that he wasn't sure if his abilities were good enough for Kim Taehui, but Hak Bonghwa cut him off.

"Just be ready for tomorrow. I'd bring sample writing if I was you, just to give an example of what you can do. And wear blue. Blue is your color." Hak Bonghwa smiled. 

Teo drummed his fingers on the outside of the bag sitting on his lap. The Neostar Entertainment building was really nice and clean, with it’s sleek white walls and high ceilings. The receptionist at the front desk seemed pleased to meet him too. She even shook his hand. Injung wasn't sure if Seongja, the elderly woman who worked as HBH's receptionist, ever shook anyone's hand. This place was so different from HBH Entertainment, and maybe that’s why Teo was so nervous. He felt out of place already, like he wasn’t supposed to be in here, despite the visitors badge pinned to his blue sweater. 

"Park Injung?" A smooth voice bounced off the sleek walls. Teo sat upright, his brain kicking into high gear as he realized who addressed him. 

Standing tall in a crisp suit was Kim Taehui. A kind smile painted on the man's face as he extended his hand. Teo's brain was a few seconds behind, trying to comprehend his current reality. 

Teo rose hastily to bow, accidentally knocking his bag over in the process. Hundreds of papers flew out from folders, scattering across the pristine lobby floor. Teo’s cheeks burned in mortification. So much for making a good impression. 

"I'm sorry!" Injung apologized quickly, scurrying to pick up his work. He shook his head at the floor, forcing out a mirthless chuckle. "I brought samples of writing for you to look at..."

Teo looked up from his mess to see, in horror, that Taehui was reading one of his notes carefully. A small smile curled up on the CEO's lips as his eyes scanned further and further down the page. 

Taehui held up the paper with a smile. "If this is just a sample, I might have to raise your pay." The CEO chuckled before angling his head towards the elevators. "Let's get started, shall we?" 

Injung thought his hand was going to fall off. For the past four hours, he's been slaving over this one song for Taehui. He dropped his pen and took a wary glance at the clock on his desk. It was nearing four in the morning. Thank God Triptych was on hiatus, otherwise he'd have to get up in three hours for practice, and this piece wasn't even finished. 

If it was a Triptych song, he would have gone to bed hours ago. If it wasn't completed, he knew he could rely on other members the next morning to help him work out the kinks. But for this song, he wanted it to be absolutely perfect. 

At one in the morning, Teo had convinced himself that he was working this hard because it was for another person, and he wanted to create something that would satisfy them.

At three in the morning, Teo reasoned that it was because he was writing for Kim Taehui, and that's why it was justifiable to skip on a few hours of sleep. 

Now, at four, Teo realized just why he was breaking his back over Taehui.

He wanted recognition. Kim Taehui was someone Teo looked up to, and after spending the day with him that afternoon, Injung only developed a deeper idolization of the CEO. Everything Taehui did was admirable. From the way he casually interacted with his artists to the way he put so much work into running a business that was true to his values. Taehui was caring, funny, and ambitious. Teo wasn't sure he'd ever met someone so lovely in his life. And that's why he wanted Taehui to approve of him. He wanted the seal of approval from someone lovely.

With the thought of Taehui in mind, Teo finished the song at around six in the morning. Once he placed the pen down for the last time, exhaustion fell over him. He was crawling into bed just as he heard Van's alarm go off from next door. Even with Van's clunking around, Teo had no problem drifting off into a deep sleep.

It felt like only moments had passed when Teo was being shaken awake. Teo blinked the sleep out of his eyes to see Van leaning over him. 

"Injung, it's noon." Van said feverently.

"So?" Injung asked in a groggy groan, his brain still fuzzy from his sleep.

"You have a meeting at Neostar in thirty." Van reminded him. 

Teo's body felt like it had been dunked in cold water. He sat up quickly, instantly reaching for his phone. Sure enough, it was 12:02 pm. He already should have left for Neostar Entertainment. He was going to be late.

Teo flung himself out of bed, pulling on a sweater over the clothes he wore and slept in the night before. He was moving so fast that Van only had time to stuff a granola bar in his back pocket before he flew out the door.

He arrived at Neostar at 12:40pm, ten minutes late. Teo was panting heavily when Taehui opened his office door. Taehui looked Teo up and down in concern.

"Everything okay, Injung?" 

"Just..." Teo took a deep inhale, trying to steady out his own breathing. "Just got here... Sorry... Running... Running late." 

Taehui nodded in understanding. He gestured with his hands for Teo to relax. "No worries," The CEO stepped aside. "Come in." 

Injung sat at one of the couches in the office, placing his overstuffed folders and notes on the coffee table for Taehui to see. Now that he caught his breath, excitement for Taehui's reaction was setting in. He couldn't wait for the older man to read what he had come up with last night. 

"I worked on this all night!" Injung exclaimed, opening one of the folders to show a finished lyric write up. He shook his head in amazement at himself as he organized his papers. “Injung,” Taehui furrowed his eyebrows at the statement.   “Okay, maybe not all night. But I must have worked like, nearly eight hours on these." Injung shrugged, pulling out some of his lyrics excitedly. “I think you'll like them though.” 

"Injung," Taehui said softly, sitting across from the idol. Teo looked up, a smile still on his face, anticipating any praise that might come out of Taehui’s mouth next.

"You can't do this anymore, okay?" Taehui said seriously. "I appreciate the hard work, but losing sleep over some songs..." 

"Well, I don't mind." Injung shook his head, trying to change the course that this conversation had taken. He didn’t mean to raise any concern. "It only took so long because I was having trouble with the beats.” 

"Yeah but... We have other lyricists on the team who could have filled in the blanks for you." Taehui reminded him gently. Teo's expression faltered, embarrassment falling over him. How could he forget that Taehui had a whole team of writers backing him? Teo got so caught up in the excitement of this project that he forgot that it wasn't just something exclusively for Taehui and him to work on. 

"Oh. Right." Teo blushed. "Yeah, that's... that's what writers do, right?" 

"Right." Taehui affirmed. He looked at all the papers in front of him, running his fingertips over the handwritten lyrics. "How about you leave these here and go back home? Get some sleep." 

Injung's heart dropped like he'd been insulted. He had been looking forward to coming to Neostar since he left yesterday. He couldn't just turn around and leave now. Plus, Taehui’s presence was magnetic. He wanted to spend just a little bit more time with him. 

"I want to stay." Injung said stubbornly. 

"That's really not necessary." Taehui shook his head. 

"After all I've done, I don't want to just be turned away." Injung stood his ground. "How do I know you won't just throw my papers out once I leave?" 

Taehui furrowed his eyebrows at the younger idol, a crease forming between them. "I'd never do that." 

Teo leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. "These songs are my babies. At least let me stay to see you record the demos." 

Taehui lost the argument. The two of them claimed a recording booth and got to work. Teo's energy only lasted through the demo recording. Once Taehui and he started working on the composition of the song, the vocalist finally hit the wall. 

Injung's eyes started to involuntarily get heavier and heavier. He rubbed his eyes impatiently as a loud yawn forced itself from his chest. Injung tried to cover it up by angling his head downward towards the desk, pretending to focus on the notes he had written down during the recording.

"Hey," Taehui dipped his head to catch Injung's eyes. "Are you tired?" 

"No." 

"Don't lie to me," Taehui smirked. "Your eyes are bloodshot." 

"Yeah, well..." Teo's argument faded as he rubbed at one of his eyes irritably. 

"Go sleep on the couch." Taehui suggested, nodding his head towards the couch pressed against the wall behind them.

Injung arched his eyebrows at Taehui. "I don't need a nap." 

"God, you're stubborn." Taehui shook his head, a small smile on his face. He turned his attention back to his production software. "Fine. I guess I'll just have to ask you to leave the building, then." 

"You can't do that." Injung spluttered.

"Oh, yes I can." Taehui chortled. "I own this building. I can kick whoever I want out.” 

"So, what? My options are take a nap on the couch that all your artists have sat on or be sent home?" Teo asked, his eyebrow arched in disbelief. 

"The choice is yours." Taehui shrugged, his back still to Teo as he focused on clipping audio and layering his demo track.

Teo shook his head in amazement. He pushed his chair back and made his way to the couch, flopping down on the leather cushions. 

"That's what I thought." Taehui teased, finally turning around in his seat to look at Teo. Something in Teo's chest bubbled, a smile forming on Injung's face.

"Shush." He responded, turning away from the CEO to face the back cushions. He closed his eyes, trying to ignore the fluttering feeling in his chest whenever he heard Taehui hum along to the melody of their song. 

Teo was brought back to the present when Taehui suddenly stood from his seat on the couch. He clapped his hands together, getting the attention of his artists. Silence fell over the group of idols, all attention on Taehui. 

“I think it’s time we start the first listen of my newest album-”  A polite applause broke out among the artists with a few wolf whistles. Teo laughed and clapped along, including himself in the praise for the CEO. Taehui smiled appreciatively before continuing. 

“This album has been my most exciting project. I am so honored to have worked along side some of the best producers,” Taehui gestured to the group of older colleagues by the minibar, who raised their glasses in appreciation.  “Composers,” Taehui continued, gesturing to another group of people towards the back of the room, who gave a polite wave.  “And writers.” Taehui focused his attention on Teo. Injung felt his heart do flips as Taehui gave him the biggest smile before giving a subtle wink. 

“Without them, this album wouldn’t be anything worth sharing with you all. Now, please enjoy.” Taehui gave a short and polite bow before pulling a sleek remote out of his pocket. Through the speakers situated around the room, the first chords of the title track sang out. The artists all gathered in clumps, enjoying their food and talking in low tones so they could give the album a close listen.

“Hey,” A voice whispered. Teo looked over his shoulder. Yeonjin of Empyrean Moon had his arms placed on the back of the sofa Teo was sitting on, a huge smile stretched across his face. A hand extended to Teo.  “I’m Yeonjin. Nice to meet you.” Yeonjin said boldly, shaking the elder’s hand excitedly. “Big fan of your work.”

“Oh, thank you.” Teo accepted the compliment, a smile tugging at his lips. “I have a question for you.” Yeonjin asked, glancing quickly over his shoulder. Next to the fondue fountain was a group of boys, all looking over with a mixture of anxiety and amusement. Teo recognized them as the rest of Empyrean Moon. The singer could feel his nerves rising. What was Yeonjin about to ask him, exactly? 

“What’s between you and our CEO? Are you guys like, a thing?” Yeonjin asked with a head tilt. The question sounded so innocent and genuine, but Teo couldn’t help but feel defensive.  “What?” He asked. “No. The CEO and I are just good colleagues.” 

“Hm.” Yeonjin seemed unimpressed by the response. The younger’s eyes flickered up. Teo followed his gaze to see Taehui, sipping on golden champagne while making small talk with a guest. Taehui’s eyes fluttered over to where Teo and Yeonjin were, a small smirk quirking on his lips before giving Teo a second wink. Then his gaze returned to the guest he was supposed to be talking to, but even Teo could tell that Taehui was feigning interest. 

“Imagine getting two winks in one night.” Yeonjin said, almost wistfully. “Must feel nice being the center of Kim Taehui’s attention.”  Teo furrowed his eyebrows at the younger boy, not understanding. “Don’t make things up. There’s nothing going on between me and Taehui. We’re strictly business partners.”

Yeonjin looked like he wanted to say more, but instead he shook his head. “Okay. Fine. Sorry for making you uncomfortable.” He looked over his shoulder at his friends, who were now dipping various snacks into the fondue machine with childlike interest. 

“Do you think you’ll be doing more business with Neostar in the future?” Yeonjin asked, his expression looking almost pleading. 

“Maybe. You’ll have to ask your CEO for that.” Injung said, bringing his cup to his lips. 

“I will. You’re really gifted and cool. I don’t want Taehui hogging all your talent.” Yeonjin said sweetly. “Plus, I’ve gotten used to seeing you in the Neostar cafeteria. I’ll miss you if you’re gone for too long.” 

Teo wasn’t sure how to respond to that sentimental confession, but thankfully he didn’t have to. Haeju, a member of Honey Moon, was waving her hands to get people’s attention over the music.

“I put the jello shots out, if anyone wants some!” She whisper-yelled. A swarm of Neostar artists flooded to the dining room, including the Empyrean members. 

“Gotta go.” Yeonjin said hurriedly. “Nice talking to you, Mr. Teo. I’ll see you!” 

Teo watched as he meshed in with the crowd, eventually disappearing from sight. 

The party ended on a slightly rowdier note than Teo was expecting for a first listen party. After the last song played, Taehui gave one last speech to his now-drunken artists, thanking Teo once again. Then the artists started filtering out in groups. Before long, it was only Teo and Taehui left over. 

Teo made himself useful and helped clean up the mess, despite Taehui insisting that he shouldn’t. The apartment turned into a party zone, every surface of the place littered with plastic cups of half-empty drinks. It didn’t feel right leaving Taehui to clean up the mess on the night of his own listening party. 

The two worked in silence, picking up discarded trays and plates and bringing them to the kitchen. Teo wanted to say something, but his conversation with Yeonjin was still replaying in his head, hours later. What made Yeonjin, and the rest of Empyrean Moon, think that Teo was the center of Taehui’s attention? Was there something there that Teo hadn’t noticed? His reevaluation of everything Taehui has said to him over the past month fueled his silent cleaning, taking his confusion out on the dirty hors d'oeuvres plate with a sponge. 

“I think this was a success,” Taehui said with a chuckle, entering the kitchen and sliding next to Teo by the sink. “Everyone seemed to like our album.”  Teo gave Taehui a small smile. “I think you mean your album.”  “Right.” Taehui let out a small laugh, reaching for his own sponge.

The two worked in silence for a moment. Teo bit his lip before sharing the moment that defined his night.

“Yeonjin said he wants me to do more business with Neostar.” Teo shared, giving Taehui a sideways glance. When Taehui’s eyes met his, he looked back down to his soapy hands in embarrassment. “He said he’d miss seeing me in the Neostar cafeteria.” 

Taehui chuckled, turning the faucet on to clean off his plate. “That’s a very Yeonjin thing to say.” He said fondly. “But I’d miss you too.” 

Teo looked back up at Taehui, this time not breaking eye contact. Taehui hesitated before continuing.

“I know that the album is finished now,” Taehui said. “And that means I’ll probably be seeing less and less of you from now on, but I want to keep in touch.” 

Injung felt a smile tug at his lips, his stomach doing excited somersaults. “I do too.”

“Wanna get some coffee next week?” Taehui asked.

Teo narrowed his eyes playfully. “This sounds like a date.”  “It can be, if you want it to?” Taehui said, sounding a little nervous.

Teo felt his heart stutter. It wasn’t until Taehui said it out loud that Teo finally realized exactly what he wanted from Taehui. It wasn’t recognition, it wasn’t approval. It was him. He just wanted Kim Taehui and all the loveliness he had.

“Yeah. I want it to be.” Injung confirmed.

“Great.” Taehui smiled more confidently, nodding his head. “A date it is.”