#could never figure out how to make playlists

[bones4thecats]

➸ Their S/O Is A Singer; Twisted Wonder.

Character: Azul Ashengrotto and Jamil Viper (separate) A/N: <3<3<3<3 Disclaimer(s): Nothing bad, just fluffy singing

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╚═════ Azul Ashengrotto ═════════════════════════╝

🐙 As Azul wrote a new document, he heard something coming from the Lounge. It couldn't be Jade of Floyd, they were perfectly silent whenever they cleaned up. That and they were feeling ill earlier, probably those damn mushrooms that Jade got and they ate...

🐙 The Housewarden of Octavinelle stood, putting his quill back inside the ink as he walked out to find the location of the melody

🐙 He walked around, looking in every nook-and-cranny he came upon, only to come up empty-handed. This was quite odd, if it was a ghost by chance, what ghost sings? Unless they were a siren, which would be highly unlikely, as their kind was practically a myth for the peaceful mer-people of their time

🐙 Azul finally came upon the main room. He noticed the surroundings, all tables and chairs in place, all other decorations of utensils placed in their respective spots for later that morning when Mostro Lounge opened, but what he noticed first wasn't an object

🐙 He noticed you first

🐙 You stood there, cleaning a nearby table off with a happy tune falling from your lips. It was mesmerizing, he's heard some very talented singers in his years, but nobody matched your vocals, not by a long-shot

🐙 As you swayed around, eyes closed and unknowing to him standing there, he recounted each word you sang and put it into his mind for memories he could look back on happily

🐙 Azul smiled gently and cross his arms, watching him with a happy figure, singing away and with your voice just flowing out like a mermaid's would when singing to their newborn child. Like how his mother used to sing to him whenever he was upset

"I can't promise picket fences. Or sunny afternoons. But, at night when I close my eyes."

🐙 He has heard this song playing on a playlist you had made him. It was full of many romantic, slow, and sweet songs to keep him calm while he worked. And as you had your back to him, he silently walked up behind you and began singing his own verse in the song

"I see us in black and white. Crystal clear on a starlit night. There'll never be another. I promise that I'll love ya."

"I see us in black and white. Crystal clear on a starlit night. In all your gorgeous colors. I promise that I'll love you for the rest of my life. See you standin' in your dress. Swear in front of all our friends. There'll never be another. I promise that I'll love you for the rest of my life." You sang together.

🐙 As you looked at one another, you wrapped your arms around his neck, making him smile as you finished your duet together...

"And there'll never be another. I promise that I'll love you for the rest of my life..."

🐙 ...before sealing the song with a loving kiss

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╚═════ Jamil Viper ════════════════════════════╝

🐍 You hummed as you finished dressing yourself after your shower. Helping out Jamil today was harder than you expected, but you did prevent Kalim from celebrating getting an A on his test, so there's something

🐍 Jamil had finally made sure Kalim was laying down and sleeping when he came to his room. You were staying the night in his, since your dorm, Pomefiore, was currently having some issues with flooding (thanks to Epel running away and crashing into a pipe)

🐍 He had just made it to his door when he heard your voice coming through like a flute. It was gorgeous. He's heard some amazing singers, but nobody could compare to your voice

🐍 It sounded better than he could ever imagine. Of course, you hummed while you worked, but you never have gone full-singer on him before. But, he had to admit, he loved it so much right now

"Broken with bruises, I don't wanna screw this up. And lord knows I'm jealous. Of how she looks at me like that. If only I could see it too."

🐍 He frowned sadly, this song was about somebody feeling like they were nothing compared to how they could be. It reminded him of how he felt about you on the daily. He's caused so many issues, yet you always stayed with him, despite the obvious better choices around you both

🐍 Jamil took a deep breath and walked inside, taking his Scarabia vest off and laying it down as he begun to hum alongside you before lying down. You weren't shocked, you heard his footsteps earlier and kept singing as you put on one of your boyfriend's many hoodies and laid beside him in bed, slowly taking out his braids and massaging his scalp

"Is it a sin? To love someone who loves another man. If it is then I repent. 'Cause I don't know the man that she claims I am. I could never be as good as him. But I love her more than anything. Don't know why she'd ever fall for me. She says that I'm the only one she'll ever love. But when I'm looking into her eyes. I swear that there's a better guy..."

🐍 Looking down at your boyfriend, you smiled, his eyes closed as you leaned down and kissed his forehead before resting your eyes yourself

"I love you so much, Jamil..."

[sojourner-between-worlds]

Because of who I am as a person, I decided to trim the fat from my 5Ds playlist and make a top 30 version that is actually semi-organized.

Have fun.

(List -- with notes -- below the cut)

***Mostly chronological order of what part of the series they best reflect. Some are in "off" places because I felt they fit better there, musically or thematically when listening. ***When I label one as "All Signers", that includes Rua/Lua/Leo since he's such an integral part of the group even before he gets his mark at the end. ***Also, presented with a lil bit of commentary because of who I am as a person, lol. ***I am hoping this list is the correct order, as I have moved things around a lot to get an order I liked, haha, but all of these are on there.

The Greatest Show - The Greatest Showman (Riding Duels, the general Vibe of the series, haha)

Catalyst - Linkin Park (Satellite)

Young - Hollywood Undead (All Signers)

Child of the Stars - Fish in a Bird Cage (Yusei, pre-series but with Foreshadowing)

Kings - Tribe Society (Jack, pre-series, Team Satisfaction era and on)

Paper Crown - Alec Benjamin (Aki, pre-series)

Counting Stars - OneRepublic (Crow, pre-series, Team Satisfaction era on)

Renegades - ONE OK ROCK (All Signers, a bit of a transition into the start of the series)

Who I Am - Citizen Soldier (Yusei and Aki, Fortune Cup)

Brick by Boring Brick - Paramore (Aki, pre-series through second duel with Yusei)

Relate - for King & Country (All Signers)

We Are - ONE OK ROCK (All Signers)

Feed the Machine - Poor Mans Poison (Rex Godwin, Satellite)

Watching As I Fall - Mike Shinoda (Pre-series Kiryu/Kalin.)

Ready As I’ll Ever Be - Tangled: the Series (Signers vs Dark Signers. I could break this one down line by line, but I will spare you all unless you, ya know, want to know or something)

Soldier, feat. Fluerie - Tommee Profitt (Yusei; fits the entire series but considering just how many duels this poor boy has, I felt it was fitting to have it be the finale song for the first half of the series, coupled with the next one.)

In Search of Tomorrow - Zack Hemsey (This one is weird simply because it's instrumental, but I think it fits nicely to close the first half and lead into the second.)

Unbreakable - Fireflight (Aki, associated specifically with her getting her license)

Higher - The Score (Crow, associated specifically with him getting hurt, missing the first prelim, and then coming back for the next)

Hell’s Comin’ With Me - Poor Mans Poison (Crashtown Kiryu/Kalin; originally associated with the DS but then I got to thinking about how much it fits after they escape the mines and since I have fewer songs for the second half of the series, it landed here. But it's for both, okay? Both.)

Battle Scars - Paradise Fears (Team 5Ds vs Team Taiyo; originally just associated this song with the Signers but their journeys mirror each other so well and...yeah.)

Brother - Kodaline (Yusei, Jack, Crow; I had no idea where to fit this one in so I selected a semi-random location and here it is, lol.)

Running Up That Hill - Kate Bush, metal cover by Jonathan Young and Caleb Hyles (Aporia and Team Ragnarok; an odd combination of characters, but somehow it just works, considering.)

Strike Back - Fairy Tail OP16, English cover by NateWantsToBattle (All Signers; for real this could have been the opening instead and I would kill to have someone make an opening to this song for the finale arc.)

Where the Skies End - Starset (Yusei)

The Hero - Nathan Wagner (Yusei and Z-ONE; I love the dichotomy of their stories so much. I am so normal about this.)

SCAVA - Hollywood Undead (Z-ONE et al)

Memories - Maroon 5 (Bruno)

The World You Want - Switchfoot (Yusei)

See You Again, feat. Charlie Puth - Wiz Khalifa (The Departure)

[i-can-even-burn-salad]

Mentally putting Eilis on every OC interaction tag.

"They wouldn't."

[omgeto]

☆ COVER UP — tattoo artist!GETO SUGURU

summary: all you wanted was a cover up tattoo to replace the name your ex left on you. you didn't think you'd be leaving the tattoo shop with a replacement for your ex's tattoo and a replacement for him as well.

wc: 3k

cw: afab!reader, geto gives you backshots, he's kinda obsessed w/ your ass here, unprotected sex (since I forget condoms) BUT he's a gentleman pulls out </3 your kinda a meanie. he's kinda a meanie so light angst (?) but barely. MDNI

an: haven't posted a longer work in a hot minute, but here is how you meet tattoo artist boyfriend!geto soooo give this one a chance big fanks to my lil twat @kazushawty for helping me out and reading bits of it.

as you push open the heavy glass door of ‘cursed ink studios,’ a subtle bell chimes softly, announcing your presence. instantly, the atmosphere inside crackles with an electric charge. the air is thick with the intoxicating scent of ink, mingling with the sterile bite of antiseptic. the walls are adorned with vivid flash art form a chaotic tapestry, while the rhythmic hum of a tattoo gun echoes through the room.

and there he is, geto suguru – a tall, enigmatic figure with jet-black hair and sleeves of mesmerising tattoos that seem to tell stories of their own. he sits at his workbench, surrounded by an array of ink bottles and tattoo machines, his piercing eyes never leaving the art he's creating. a carefully curated playlist of music plays softly in the background, punctuated by the occasional buzzing of the tattoo gun.

he glances up from his intricate work as you enter, his gaze slowly travelling up and down your form. there's a hint of curiosity in his eyes, as though he's wondering why you, of all people, have ventured into his sacred space. his expression, however, suggests that he's far from thrilled about the interruption.

"need something?" he asks, his irritation evident.

"i need a cover-up” you swallow your nerves, holding your head high, your voice steady, ”my ex's name."

geto raises an eyebrow, seemingly unimpressed by your request. "ex's name, huh? you people never learn."

your jaw clenches at his condescending tone. "well, i'm here now, so can you do it or not?"

he continues to scrutinise you, his gaze feeling like a judgmental weight. finally, he nods, albeit reluctantly. "fine, show me."

with a sigh of resignation, you turn around, your heart pounding as you pull down the waistband of your jeans just enough to reveal the offending name covering your left ass cheek. it's a constant reminder of a relationship gone wrong, and you're more than ready to be rid of it.

"this won't be easy," he mutters, his fingers cool against your skin as he traces the outline of the name. his touch lingers, just a little too long, sending an unexpected shiver down your spine. his fingers, skilled and confident, continued to trace the inked letters of your ex's name on your skin — almost toyingly. and you could feel the chill of the tattoo parlour's air-conditioning contrasted by the warmth of his touch.

his voice, though still gruff, held a trace of disgust "who did this?" he asks, not looking up from the tattoo.

you hesitate, your memories of that past relationship flooding back. "my ex-boyfriend," you reply tersely.

geto's fingers stop their tracing, and he lets out a low, almost imperceptible sigh. "you let your boyfriend do a shitty tattoo on you, and you let him make it his name," he mutters, more to himself than to you. "you practically let him brand you."

“is it your job to be such a bitchy artist?” you snap, already fed up by his comments. you’ve heard it from your parents, your friends, ever since you got that trashy tattoo. but couldn't disagree with that sentiment — you knew it was a shit tattoo. “i thought i was paying you for your artistry, not your smart mouth.”

"listen," he growls, his voice low and dangerous. "you walk in here with that god awful mess on your skin, and you've got the nerve to criticise my attitude? if you want to be rid of it, you'll do well to keep that attitude in check, sweetheart."

you bite back a retort, realising that you've indeed crossed a line with your comment. there's a palpable tension in the air now, a simmering anger beneath the surface, and it seems that geto has no intention of backing down.

with a deep breath, you swallow your pride and offer a reluctant apology. "i'm sorry," you mutter, a touch of remorse in your voice. "i shouldn't have snapped at you."

he continues to hold your gaze for a moment, his expression still stern, before finally nodding. "apology accepted."

you didn’t actually have an idea of what you wanted for the cover up, you just knew you needed it gone. geto was a highly sought out cover artist so you had no doubt that he’d be able to do you good. with your initial meeting being heated, you thought it was best to leave him to do his thing.

with a sense of relief that the confrontation has subsided, you decide to give geto some space to work his magic. "i'll leave you to it," you say, your voice quieter now, and you turn away from him.

"good," he mutters, his focus fully on his ipad as he starts to sketch, not even looking as you leave the shop. 

geto usually was quick to draw up tattoo sketches for clients, but when it came to you he was stunned — too busy thinking about how your ass looked rather than what he was meant to tattoo on it. from the moment you stepped in his shop, he was intrigued, you didn’t see the type to get work done by him and the marking stretched on your ass didn’t seem like it would belong to someone with an attitude like yours. 

his mind was anything but focused on the design. he couldn't help but replay the encounter with you in his thoughts, your brashness and the way you'd stood your ground, even under his scrutiny.

"why the hell did she get that shitty tattoo?" he mutters to himself, his fingers deftly working his pen. the sketch was beginning to take shape, but his mind kept drifting back to the curve of your ass. he couldn't deny the attraction he felt, and it frustrated him. he was supposed to be a professional, detached from his clients beyond the art he created on their skin. but something about you had thrown him off balance.

“so you ready to get this tatted on you?” is the first thing he asks when you return the following day. you inspect his sketches in awe, of course you never doubted his talent but you didn’t think he’d be able to draw something you wanted without you even having to say.

“well it seems you do live up to your reputation,” you comment with a neutral facade, but you both know that you were downplaying your excitement — you were pleased. and like with any client, that made geto satisfied that he was doing his job correctly. but when he saw the way your eyes lit up when he initially showed you the sketches, it was a sight he wanted to see again. “i guess we can start the tattoo.”

“okay i’ll get my stuff set up, get rid of those,” he says nodding towards your jeans, “and lay down when you’re ready.” you slip yourself out of your bottoms, leaving the itty bitty thong that you knew you’d need for the appointment and that a small part of you hoped he liked.

he pauses when he sees you laying down on the seat in his station, your head resting in your arms, your ass slightly raised.  ‘this is gonna be a long session,’ he thinks to himself as he smirks, shaking his head as he works his way to his seat.

as he sits down, he places the stencil over your ass, and you berate yourself for getting giddy at the feeling of him rubbing over the design to make sure it was in place — wishing that his hand stayed for longer. 

“how are you with pain?” he asks, and from the way you were laying you weren’t able to see the way he was gawping at your ass.

“what type of pain?” you retort.

“y’know the type of pain where someones drilling into your ass for hours,” he comments as if it’s obvious but you both knew his words were hinting at more than just the tattoo.

“choice words there,” you muse, “but any type of pain i’m alright with, so give me your best.”

geto's needle hovers just above your skin, poised for action. "you sure about that?" he murmurs, his voice low and suggestive.

a coy smile tugs at your lips as you respond, "I can handle it if you can."

with a deliberate, almost tantalising slowness, he lowers the needle to your skin. the first touch is a sharp, stinging sensation, but you refuse to flinch. you're determined to hold your own, to meet geto's challenge head-on.

he continues to work, the needle dancing across your skin with a practised precision. the room is filled with the rhythmic sound of the tattoo machine, creating a hypnotic backdrop to your growing tension.

as minutes turn into hours, you find yourself lost in a strange mixture of pleasure and pain. the pain is undeniable, but there's something oddly exhilarating about it. you steal a glance at geto, his intense focus on his work, and you can't help but wonder if he's enjoying this as much as you are.

"still doing okay?" he asks, his tone a mix of concern and something more primal.

you bite your lower lip, suppressing a moan that threatens to escape. "i told you, i can handle it."

geto smirks, his gaze locked on your ass as he continues to tattoo. "you've got quite the threshold for pain. impressive."

“is it really? i'm sure you’ve worked on a lot of other clients with higher thresholds for pain.”

“but none of them have had an ass like yours though,” he mumbles to himself — but you hear him loud and clear, a grin forming on your face at the confession. “anyways, we’re all done now, go ahead and look in the mirror.”

you stand in the full length mirror, your head slightly turned at an angle as you gawp at your ass. your eyes widen seeing what was once your shitty exes name, now turned into a piece of true art. 

“so what d’you think?” he asks, and you didn’t even notice him coming to stand behind you until you felt his breath on the back of your neck, “this shit is hot right?”

“you can say that again,” you agree, keeping your eyes focused on the tattoo, trying to ignore the quickening of your heart beat at the presence of him, “this is really great though, like i couldn’t imagine my ass could look this good after having that tattooed on on it all his time.”

“well no need to imagine anymore,” geto’s face forms a smiling grin, you can tell he was admiring way more than just his artwork, “you mind if i take a picture… for my instagram?” he says, barely asking as his phone is already out of his pocket and is in his hands, he looks up at you for permission and you give a slight nod before he’s snapping away at your ass.

“are you sure this is for your instagram,” you tease, as he continues to take photos crouched down, as he circles your ass with his phone, “or is this just for your personal wank bank?”

“would you like it to be?” he retorts back swiftly, there wasn’t even any mischief in his eyes as he looks up at you, just pure lust.

“um i–” you stutter, only now feeling exposed — as if he hadn’t been working on your ass already for the past six hours.

“don’t get shy on me now,” he coos, standing up to face you head on, “y’gonna let me finish off making you forget that ex or yours or what?”

“be my guest,” you respond, trying to come across as nonchalant, but the eager look in your eyes gave geto all he needed to know. 

he pushes you softly, as he commands, “hands against the mirror and spread your legs.” and you do just that, as he comes behind you, fitting in between your legs perfectly. his hand forces ur back down, deeping the arch of your spine before both of his hands grab onto your ass.

geto really rubs and digs his thumbs into your cheeks, biting his lip at the sight at the way his fingers mould into your ass. “fuckk man,” he groans out, he’s not even in you yet and he was already obsessed with every inch of you. 

he frees his dick from his pants, and pumps it quickly before sliding it across your already gushing slit. you hiss at the contact, a pleased smile working its way on your face as the tip of his dick edges into you.

“s-shit,” you stammer, as he inches himself into you deeper, “w-what about the rest of the shop?”

“what about them?” he shrugs, “you don’t want them to hear naught you’re being right now? HEY GUYS—”

“oi,” you hiss out, your eyes widening as you turn your head to look directly at him.

“i’m just playing, i’m not ready to share you quite just yet,” he retorts, his dick moving in you at an achingly slow pace, “now, keep your eyes focused on the mirror, and you better not let those hands slip.”

before you can respond, he thrust his hips into you as deep as he could, his dick slamming into you. you moan out at the surprising force, trying your best to keep your palms flat on the surface of the mirror, as you stare straight at him — watching how he works his hands from your ass to your hips so he can drive into you with all of his force. 

“this pussy is s-so fucking good,” he praises, the sloppiness of your cunt making it easy for him to slide his dick in and out of you. “oh and this ass,” he continues giving a hard spank on your ass cheek, to emphasise his point, “c’mon throw your ass back on my dick, i wanna see it bounce.”

you fuck him back, doing exactly as he says, your ass meeting his hips with the same amount of force. his spanks encourage you to be quicker, to give him everything he wants. his repeating, strong strokes, have you feeling weaker, your hands slipping as you try to stay up right, when all you want to do is collapse and cum everywhere. 

“f-fuckk it’s too much,” you whine, as he drills into you.

“nah,” he says, shrugging his head, “it’s not enough,” he lifts up his legs, his digits pressing into your deeper, as he now angles his strokes even further into your pussy, hitting your spot with ease. “give it to me harder, i know you can” he encourages, another two swift spanks landing on your ass.

with his continuous contact of your ass and his hips, and the way his dick pushes into you deeper, you felt like you were splitting in two. but you kept going, thinking back to your earlier conversation, you didn’t want to prove him wrong, you wanted to show him that you can handle it, handle him.

geto was practically beaming, licking his lips feverishly at the sight of your fucked out face through the mirror as he watches himself plough into you, your body rocking forward with every thrust. his eyes concentrate on your ass, as he says, “d’you see how your rocking my work on you now?” and you nod dumbly, too busy trying to reach your climax to string a sentence together, “so fuck that ex of yours and his shitty ass tattooing, from now on you only can me on your body, you got that?” he asks and you nod again, but he shakes his head, his hand moving from your waist to your chin as he grips it making your eyes stay locked on his through the mirror, “i said do you got that?”

“ahhh s-shit yet i do, i do,” you say, mirroring his words, “i will only have you on my body, ‘promise.”

“good girl,” he approves, giving your chin a squeeze before letting go, “now cum.” 

with those simple words, you release all over him, your stance getting weaker, as you shoot out cum all over his dick. he’s quick to pull out of you though, stroking his dick as he sprays his cum all over your ass, with a deep groan.

your hands are still on the wall, as you take deep breaths, trying to recollect yourself. but you turn around swiftly seeing a flash of a camera behind you, and geto is back to crouching down, with his phone out, taking pictures of your cum covered ass.

“you mind if i keep these in my wank bank forreal this time?” he asks, smirking as you nod, “i’ll take some more later, but i got two questions to ask.”

“and those are…” you say, prompting him to continue.

“first, let me take you out after this?” he asks with a smirk, already knowing the answer. after the way he just dicked you down, you’d be a fool not to let him wine and dine you, “second, y’gonna come suffocate my face with that ass of yours or not?” you couldn’t even answer the second question since he’s pulling you down to the floor with him, with a joyous grin on his face.

AN: IGNORE THE FACT THAT HE CUMS ALL OVER UR FRESH TATTOO. LIKE JUST IGNORE IT. just focus on the fact that you have a lovely ass and geto loves it too. but yes do you want to see more, I HAVE ENOUGH IDEAS TO EVEN MAKE A LIL MASTERLIST FOR IT. I love tattoo artist boyfriend!geto so so much, like when u guys become an established relationship it actually gets so good. BUT I DONT REALLY LIKE THIS ONE, BUT IF U GUYS FW IT I PROMISE ILL ACTUALLY WRITE AND POST THE ONES I LOVE. BUT I FELT LIKE I HAD TO WRITE THIS FIRST SO YOU COULD SEE HOW U AND GETO STARTED. LMK UR THOUGHTS

[gyuswhore]

Hits Different (...'cause it's you) (1)

«« I trace the evidence, make it make some sense Why the wound is still bleedin' »»

PAIRING: kim mingyu x reader

SYNOPSIS: Kim Mingyu was the first friend your brother had brought home for dinner. Fast forward a couple years, his toothy smile and pierced ears would wedge their way into a permanent place in your heart. Nail to a coffin, never to escape.

or;

in which you get rejected by the only boy you've ever loved; a rejection you can't quite shake off.

GENRES: based off of 'Hits Different' by Taylor Swift, brother's best friend!au, brother!seokmin, fluff, angst, smut (in part 2) [MINORS DNI], friends(?) to lovers, university!au.

PLAYLIST: right here!

WORD COUNT (full fic): 40k (im actually embarrassed)

Part 1: 20.2k | Part 2: 20k

masterlist

WARNINGS : slowburn, angst, fluff, mingyus a bit of an airhead and an ass, reader has a hard time managing her feelings, lots of frustrated tears, one sided pining, user toruro x minghao make an appearance, swearing, there's another woman (gasp,,,,,but shes cool so), Nayeon is a darling, Seungcheol is kinda annoying here but we love him, smut tags in part 2

(Comments from @toruro): "oh shizzle", "yeah bitch", (on jihyo) "mother", "ME X HAO FIRE EMOJI", "men (derogatory)"

[A/N]: Tumblr is annoying and won't let me post the entire 40k in one go so i have to break it up (part 2 is out tomorrow!!!) i hope you guys enjoy this, thank you for all the love on the teaser, i hope this is able to live up to the hype, thank you so much for being patient with me &lt;33 (ty @toruro for encouraging me when i felt shit ab this gkjnrgvkjrng and beta-ing ofc)

As someone who could vomit at the mere thought of throw-up, you tried not to stare into the toilet bowl as you emptied your guts in this questionable club bathroom. 

It was proving to be easier than you’d anticipated, naturally, when your eyes were blurred with bubbling tears. Were they because of your wretching or the feelings that churned in your heart? You can’t be entirely sure, nor can you find yourself having the mental strength to figure out. There’s a banging on the door behind you, one that sends your already aching head into a hurling spin. 

“Open the door, I have water for you, it’ll help!” You hear Mika blare from the other side, concern lacing her voice. 

You try to blink the tears away but they cascade down your cheek anyway, rubbing at them furiously before preparing to haul yourself off the disgusting bathroom floor. Taking a deep breath was a horrible idea, you realize when an atrocious mixture of scents hit your nostrils, cringing visibly. 

Washing your hands at the sink took you another five minutes, scrubbing furiously at your palms and nails with the dollar store soap the club graciously placed in a fancy dispenser, pumping more than a normal amount to rid yourself of the paranoia of tainted hands. 

Unfortunately for you, your palms were tainted with entities beyond mere soap and water’s powers. 

It was evident with the way you exited the bathroom feeling perhaps worse than you went in. Mika was nowhere to be seen in the hall, moving along to the private room where the rest of the group was to find her springing up as you enter. 

“You weren’t answering, so I left. Here, water, I told you to be careful with what you drink; you haven’t had a bite to eat either.” She reprimands. 

“Sorry,” you smile sheepishly, not having a reasonable excuse to give her. 

Joshua peeks over her shoulder, “You feeling any better?” 

The water is slow to go down as you sputter before replying in a hoarse voice, “Yeah. Way.” 

To be fair, the water did help. But it was you who was the problem, blaming the alcohol for the behaviour all your friends knew perfectly well where it was stemming from. Not a word was said though, for your sake or their own. You wrap up quickly after that, Joshua insisting to drop you off home himself, quoting how Seokmin would have his head if he left you in the hands of a taxi driver in this state — age gap be damned. You can only thank him as he pulls up to your destination, hoping you’ll remember this in the morning to return the favour in the future. 

“Before you go, can we talk for a second?” he piques, halting you as you remove your seatbelt. 

“Sure, yeah. What is it?” 

“I’m not gonna ask if you’re doing alright, not when you’re gonna give me the same answer as always. But…please take care of yourself. You’ve been drinking quite a bit lately, and it can’t be helping you at all” 

You listen to him silently, not a thought in your brain. But you nod anyway. 

“Thanks for looking out, Shua. I’m…I’m probably not gonna be going out for a while, you’re right,” you reply, quietly, a small smile on your face that you can only hope is reassuring. 

“I don’t mean lock yourself up, either. You don’t give yourself a break and then try to make up for it by drinking your self faint every week, that’s never gonna help you. You know that.” He speaks in a soft, soothing voice, a hand coming up to pat your hair before landing on your clasped hands on your lap. “You know what, I’ll pick you up tomorrow night, we can go the fair just me, you and Seok-” 

“I have class tomorrow.” 

“Like showing up hungover is gonna help you retain any information. Just skip.” 

You sigh a deep exhale, deciding to simply be upfront. “I kinda just wanna stay home for a while, going out’s kinda making it worse. I think rotting in front of my laptop’s what I really need right now” 

Throwing in a tinkle of a laugh, you hope you’ve sold yourself.

“Alright,” he sounds slightly unconvinced but doesn’t push you further, “I’ll drop in to bother you tomorrow though, don’t try stoping me”

“Okay,” you say, smiling a little wider. “I’m gonna go now, goodnight.”

“Wait!” he stops you once again, right before your about to shut the door. “Have you talked to Mingyu at all?” 

“There’s nothing to talk about, Shua. Night” 

With that you’ve slammed the door of his car shut, missing the ghost of a “goodnight” that leaves Joshua’s lips as he watches you walk inside the building. 

“And stop staying out so late at night! What were you supposed to do if Joshua wasn’t there?” Seokmin rants as he walks back and forth grabbing you water and pills as you finish your forced breakfast.

“Take a taxi?” you suggest sarcastically. 

“What? And get me called to the station to identify your body parts when some dude decides he wants to play cannibalistic butcher?” he screeches, and it has you wincing and grabbing onto your head at his volume. You dramatize it a little, hoping he’d shut it with his nagging if you gained some extra sympathy. He doesn’t stop talking, but he does tone it down. 

“Whatever, I’m not going out anymore.” You push your plate and bowl away as you hop off the stool and stalk off to your room, making as much noise as possible in the process. 

Your brother calls after you, but you don’t stop. Your head was pounding, 

“Are you gonna take your meds? HELLO? Or do you enjoy the feeling of having your head split open?” he slams open the door of your room mid-sentence, going on at your blanket-clad figure on the bed. 

“I’m going back to sleep.”

“No, you’re taking your fucking meds.” A cup of water is thrust into your hands as you pick up the pills from Seokmin’s open palms, swallowing before he decides to shove it down your throat himself. 

He waits on the edge of the bed, checking to make sure you actually swallowed the pill instead of hiding it under your tongue like you’ve done since you were kids. 

“I’m not stopping you from going out if that’s what you think I mean,” he starts, a lot softer this time, and you’re taken back to your conversation with Joshua last night. “You’ve been going out and coming home wasted a lot more than normal lately. I don’t know if it’s because your college agendas are finally catching up to you or what.”

“I’m just…My friends are always out and I wanna be with them, it’s normal,” you grumble, disappearing deeper into your sheets.

“You’d tell me if something was bothering you, right?” 

‘Yeah, yeah, now shoo. Your voice is making my head hurt worse, I doubt Advils are immune to your yapping.” 

“Fine, fuck you too” he mumbles, leaving the room only to pop back in a second later. “Mom called last night, told her you were at a study group. Might wanna call her back before she catches a flight herself.” 

You wave two fingers up in a salute from your flat position on the bed, hearing him close the door. You don’t sit up until you hear the TV blare from the living room, knowing he had parked himself on the couch and has his attention diverted. 

The headache wasn’t actually that bad, you just really wanted to be left alone, and your brother had a habit to do the opposite when asked, so it had to be done. 

What on Earth were you supposed to tell him, anyway? That his best friend in the whole world rejected his sister on the spot when she confessed her decades long feelings? That she was ruining her liver and kidneys every weekend over a rejection? By his best friend in the whole world?

Yeah, that’s an easy conversation. 

Snuggling into the covers you try not to think back to the abomination that was your birthday party just a few weeks ago, but your thoughts yank you there anyway, as if to remind you of every wretched detail of the encounter like it was wasn’t already burned into your frontal lobe like a brand. 

You were on a high; too happy, too excited. It’s not like you were expecting anything for your first birthday at uni anyway, you were too old for pink blowout parties and too young for the madness of college level clubbing. You were excited for takeout with your brother, to sit in front of the TV for the rest of the night, maybe even stick a candle in one of your burgers and call it your cake. Plans were changed when you walked into your home, ready to wind down for the night and celebrate in your own way. 

It was a full house, food and drinks everywhere, complete with a loud “SURPRISE” as you walk through the door. You remember hugging both your brother and Mingyu when they tell you they did all of this for you, an overwhelming feeling overcoming you as you grip them tight, hoping it’ll transfer all the gratitude you couldn’t express. 

You’re breathless as the night progresses, trying hard to focus on the conversations at hand, trying to be a good host. Failing miserably, you can’t force your gaze from wandering every few minutes, searching for Mingyu in the crowd, watching him move his mouth as he talked, throw his hair back as he laughed, smile that beautiful, beautiful smile of his, perfect teeth on display. 

It had been bliss these past few weeks, the lingering smiles he would give you, the flirtatious attempts never gone unnoticed. The smoothest of words slipping right off his tongue as he gave you eyes that twinkled and sparkled and blew air directly into the embers in your heart. You would still yourself as they would happen, like the mirage would crack and shatter if you even dared to breathe; it felt unreal. After all these years, you realised soon, Kim Mingyu may have began to like you. 

You’d be lying if you said you were completely sober when it happened, drinks were passed around and as the birthday girl you didn’t seem to have a choice to back down, already a little hot and wide eyed barely halfway through the night. 

And when Mingyu doesn’t interact with you all night, you go to him as the numbers in the house dwindled, cornering him as he collected bottles in the kitchen.

“Hey!”, he sounds enthusiastic, “You having fun yet?”

“Yeah, thanks again for doing this.” your remember fidgeting with your fingers and nails, digging them into each other as you let yourself spew. 

“Are you gonna say thank you at every chance for the next six months? It's your first birthday away from home. Besides it was Seok’s idea, I just helped out.” He had said, beaming.

“Mingyu, can I talk to you about something…?”

You sigh loudly as you replay the memory, face pushed into the covers as you bite back a scream at the blood rushing to your head. 

Stupid. Idiot. Absolutely brainless.

“Oh.” He had breathed out when you had spilled your entire heart out to him standing in that kitchen, visibly taken aback at your abruptness. “I…I’m sorry I’m not quite sure what to say.” 

You still remember that sickening feeling, that big ball of junk and emotions that sank lower and lower in your abdomen, settling a deep hurt in your chest that made it difficult to breathe. 

Laying in your bedroom, weeks after the fact, you can still feel your breathing go slightly erratic at the memory, hot tears springing your eyes, burning before you wipe them away. You were aware how baffling it was, how you were letting it affect you to this degree, but you justified it with the years you had remained quiet, yearning on the sidelines. 

You deserved to wallow in this pit. 

At least that’s what you thought. But after last night you wonder if you had stopped indulging in the sorrow and let it ruin you instead. A sigh escapes you at the thought of ending yet another night in a dirty bathroom, makeup smeared and guts removed, misery becoming the only thing you were allowed to feel in the aftermath. 

You reach for your phone on the bedside table, flicking through your unread messages, barely registering a word as you leave them opened and unanswered. There wasn’t an ounce of willpower in you even after a full night’s sleep, turning your phone off before shoving it in your bedside drawer, forgotten. You take a moment to stare at the ceiling, having no energy to get up to turn your lights off. Until the doorbell sounds. 

Of course you knew who it was the second you heard, but the voice paired with your brother’s conversing outside was enough to have you catapulting out of bed. You slap your hand over the switchboard, turning off all your lights, moving across the room to pull your curtains shut, cascading complete darkness in the room. You fly under the covers as a last effort to convince, covering your face with the sheets just as you hear a knock. 

The door creaks open slightly as Seokmin calls out your name. 

“Are you up? Mingyu’s here, he brought coffee.” He whispers slowly. You don’t respond. 

He calls out your name one more time before you hear the door click shut. You don’t move till you hear his muffled voice on the other end, “She’s knocked out, her head was hurting, better let her rest.” 

Heat pricks the sides of your face as your body finally relaxes, borderline embarrassed at how you were hiding from him like a middle schooler who thinks she’s in love. Which you were at one point; now you're a college kid who thinks she’s in love.

You try not to focus too much on the sounds coming from outside, burying under the covers to attempt at sleep for real this time. Eyes screwed shut, you can’t help but open them at every other intonation. There was no way you could figure out what they were saying if you tried, between the door and the TV, it was all a taunting buzz in your ears. 

You do end up falling asleep. But only after you hear the droning of the TV turn off, and the distinct goodbyes as the front door clicks shut. 

Keeping to your promise, you stay away from late nights for the next couple of weeks. Joshua so far as commends you for declining invitations, offering dinner on him on one particular phone call. 

“You know, I was serious when I said I was proud of you.” Joshua voices solemnly as you attempt to cut a strip of meat onto the grill. You snort as a response. 

“I wasn’t like, an alcoholic, you’re making it sound worse than it was.” 

“It was still bad for it to affect you in that way. Takes a lot to get back up from heartbreak”

“Especially one that’s lasted for nearly a decade.” You sigh as you give up on the meat, handing the scissors and tongs over. 

“Are we still talking about that?” He raises his eyebrows. 

A smile makes its way to your face, nibbling on a radish, “No.”

“Good. Because we need to talk about if we want our noodles hot or cold.”

“Seok! SEOK! Where the fuck did you put my pimple patches?” Your screams echo across the house yet garner no response. Opting to yank open the fridge, you dig through through the box of face masks to find them possibly laying at the bottom, forgotten. Seokmin bounds into the kitchen, towel in hand as he pats at his damp hair.

“What?” 

“Nothing,” you huff, shoving the unfruitful box back into the cabinet, "you used up all the patches.”

“Patches? Pimple patches? We’ve been out for a month, just use this tube in the drawer.” Pulling open the drawer, he rummages for a moment before emerging with a sickly yellow tube of what looked like poorly marketed toothpaste.

“You want me to put this on my face?” 

“Yeah, it works, zit on my nose was gone by morning.” He stuffs the tube back in the drawer not before squeezing a small amount on his fingers to dab on your face.

“Ew, get your dirty hands away from my face.” You grip his wrists before he tries to move in further. 

He does nothing but shush you, shaking off your hands as you grumble in silence, letting him finger paint on your face. You move up to fix a roller on your head, undoing it before rolling the bit back in, resulting in another “tsk” emitting form your brothers concentrated face.

“Okay, enough! I don’t have that many zits.” You pull away as Seokmin moves to wash his hands. 

“Are you going to bed right now?” He asks as you move over to the door.

“Yeah. I’m not going to sleep, though.” 

“Gyu’s coming over, you were asleep when he was here last too.” 

It seemed as though every bone in your body rattled against your flesh. 

“When is he coming?” You ask quickly, frozen in your spot. 

The doorbell rings. 

“Right now, I guess.” He snickers to himself.

You can only watch in mild horror as he moves to open the door, words escaping you. You follow behind him, trying to stop him, yet not doing much other than reach the front door yourself, fingers frozen yet mildly trembling. 

“Wait!” You finally whisper-shout, “Don’t open it!” 

Seokmin pauses to give you a look, “Why? He’s seen you look worse, it’s fine”

The door wrenches open before you can protest any further, a cartoonish moment of the hunched figure of you, hands out in a nearly there grip. You’ve failed, and the chorus of ‘hey’’s reach your ears in almost a mocking manner. There’s a conscious effort on your end to not look up too high, keeping to chest eye level for your own sanity. What you find once your vision clears from the white blur, is that there’s not one, but two people at the door. 

Mingyu’s brought a girl. 

Standing behind the door meant there was no immediate attention on you, which should have been a perfectly good opportunity for you to book it to your room, but you don’t. You stand there instead, staring at the back of their heads like a child in wonder.

Once you are noticed by your brother, he winces at your appearance, a silent apology, like he didn’t know about this new guest either. Or he was apologising for what he was about to do next, you wouldn’t know, because you wouldn’t be hearing him out when you throttle him later. 

“This is my sister” 

All three sets of eyes are on you now, a moment of silence as they take in your appearance. The grandma nightgown, in all its blue and collared glory, does absolutely nothing to boost your confidence in front of the very pretty lady, whose hair cascades down her back, whose skin stands as clear as a summer sky. 

“Hi!” She breaks the awkward silence first, “I’m Jia, it’s nice to meet you! I’ve heard a lot about the both of you.”

What?

“Mingyu has a hard time keeping his mouth shut, I’m not surprised.” Seokmin tries to joke as he motions for the couch in the centre of the room. You catch him kicking a stray sock out of the way as he urges them to sit. 

With the way your brother is acting, you don’t doubt this is his first time meeting this girl. Mingyu is yet to clarify why he would bring a friend to the house unannounced, but something tells you you already know. You remain on the sidelines, inching away to the hallway slowly, trying your hardest to not bring attention to yourself.

“I haven’t seen you around campus ever, are you new?” Seokmin prods, his voice slightly on edge. 

“Oh, um-” Jia begins but is cut off by Mingyu as he speaks for her. 

“Jia doesn’t go to our uni, we met at Seungcheol’s, we’ve been dating for a couple months.” 

There it is. 

“Oh! Couple months? How come I didn’t know?” You don’t miss the hurt laced in your brother's words, your fists clenching slightly at the oncoming silence. 

“That’s on me, sorry. It’s just…I didn’t want anyone to know ‘cause I thought he was playing around when he said he liked me, I wanted to see if he was being real or not.” She laughs nervously, and you see the back of her head move as she talked. You can’t help but note the arm that’s swung across the back of the couch where she sat. “Please don’t be mad at him! I promise it was me that stopped him.”

You don’t hear too much of what happens afterwards as you slip away into the crevice of your bedroom, standing in the entryway in absolute silence, attempting to absorb what you had just witnessed outside. Approaching the full length mirror on the other end, it takes a lot out of your to bring yourself to look straight into it, regretting it immediately as you acknowledge your appearance. 

Of course, the woman who actually succeeded in winning over the man that rejected you had to witness you in the unappealing yellow paste that your brother graciously dotted all over your face, not leaving the giant rollers in your hair to cut you any slack either. You could cry about it, but you don’t. Instead you lay back in your bed, sniffling in the dark, just as you had the last time Mingyu was over. 

It’s significantly easier to drown out the voices this time round, especially when your mind is preoccupied with a couple months. Your birthday was a couple months ago, does that mean they started dating right after that conversation? Or were they already offical and you had waltzed in with your princess dreams about your brother’s best friend being in love with you. 

It made perfect sense at the time, and no sense at all anymore as you wonder why on Earth he was being so forwardly flirty with you if there was another girl all along. There’s a bitter taste in your mouth as you recall how he had quit perceiving you altogether after that night, and you can’t help but mentally commend Jia for testing him by keeping it quiet. Especially when he was going around flirting with his best friend’s sister. 

It didn’t take long for you to guage Mingyu’s reputation when you first dropped into university, the senior having made himself a reputation none less similar than he had in high school. He was popular, but with his outgoing personality and a face like that it was hard not to be liked. Your brother was right there beside him, living it up as carefree college kids, suddenly remembering he now had a little sister to tend to. You were grateful for the both of them for being there to help you take your first baby steps, all the rites of passage and which professors sucked the least, not leaving the leaky water fountain to never drink from. 

That was when Mingyu’s (supposed) advances had begun. 

You’re projected back to first semester, when both of them had dragged you to the same couch outside, talking about an “important thing you should know”. 

“You walk into class one day, expecting nothing out of the ordinary. Your professor drones on as usual, your classmates look bored as usual, you’re tired as usual. But then!” Seokmin breathes in sharply, and you hear Mingyu bound to the other side of your vision, emerging on the opposite end of the room with a backpack swung over his shoulder. 

“The man of your dreams walks by…” Seokmin continues and you snap your head towards him in a panic, suddenly afraid he had found you out. He’s busy though, making ethereal hands in Mingyu’s general direction, while the latter walks in comedic slow motion like he’s in a K-drama b-roll, complete with passes over his hair and a nonchalant yet controlled expression. 

“What is this about?” It comes out snappier than you had intended, but you’ve had one scare already. 

“Just!” your brothers hands turn from graceful to clenched, like it was you he was trying to squish you for interrupting him, “Listen, alright?” 

“The man of your dreams walks by,” he goes back to his narrator voice, “and you wonder where he’s been all your life. You start talking, you’re enamoured. You start thinking about introducing him to your parents, what your wedding’s gonna look like, what your kids are gonna look like!” 

Your face is becoming increasingly warped the more you listen to him speak, not being able to fathom where this was going. 

“But no!” It’s Mingyu that speaks this time, pushing a jolt out of you as he slams the backpack on the floor, pointing directly at you for added effect,  “You’re better than that!”

“What the fuck-” you start, but are shushed by a physical finger on your lips as Mingyu shushes you. Seokmin slaps his hand away. 

“Our point is, that you’re probably gonna come across someone who you think is your next boyfriend.” Your brother continues, “But lucky for you, you have two seasoned professionals here to tell you that it’s nothing but fresher’s fever.” 

“It’s a new place, new people, loads of new experiences; you’re bound to latch on one of the first couple pieces of meat. Our advice is don’t, because it will happen to you. But you also now know that your just in a deluded stage right now. Give it a semester before you start dating people, trust.” Mingyu finishes for Seokmin as he thumps down on the couch next to you. 

“So all of this was just another stay away from boys lecture?” You raise your eyebrows. 

“Yes and no. You can date whoever you want,” Seokmin answers coolly before quickly adding, “but not right now.”

It was laughable, the thought of latching onto another person when you’d been trying exactly that for years. To have anyone catch your eye, to have anyone sweep you away from this madness that came in the form of Kim Mingyu. Neither of these seasoned professionals had a thing to worry about though, because you weren’t latching on anything that came out of this institute. You had already done so, in a stage more impressionable than this, years and years before any of them knew of the dangers of young girls and new boys in their vicinity. 

“Okay, I know you’re like on a self inflicted party ban and all that…” Joshua starts the second he places himself at your table, still haggard looking from jogging across campus.

“Don’t even try.” You warn with filled cheeks.

“Girl, let him finish.” Nayeon chides next to you. 

You exhale through your nose heavily, going back to pick at your tray as Joshua continues.

“Cheol’s throwing a little party tonight to celebrate the end of midterms.” He starts, “You should come, it's only gonna be a handful of people.” 

“A handful?” You repeat, unable to bite back the amusement in your voice. 

“Come on, your brother’s going as well! You’ll be fine, I promise we’ll keep you in check.” 

“I don’t need to be kept in check, I’m fine.” You grumble.

“Perfect! Nothing stopping you then, I’ll pick you both up at 8.” The words are barely out of his mouth before he’s back to sprinting out the vicinity, garnering looks from oncoming traffic, off to his next pestering destination 

“I don’t think I’d explicitly agreed.” You voice. 

“He got what he wanted.” Nayeon snorts, “Whatever, we’ll get ready at my place after this.”

“Weren’t you guys worried about me? Now you’re actively dragging me to parties.” You drop your utensils onto the tray.

“Too much of either isn’t a good thing, you went from forgetting what home looks like to exclusively holing yourself up in there.” She stabs a piece of potato with a chopstick and tries to pry it in your mouth. “Besides, Cheol’s parties are always super intimate, they’re all gonna be people you know, don’t worry.”

‘Super intimate’, as Nayeon had put it, had amounted to at least fifty people as you take in the crowd at the floor of the house. Despite not being packed to the brim, it was still coming out to look like a full house, random items already scattered across the floors in true frat party fashion. 

“Do you want a beer?” Nayeon asks, dragging you to the kitchens by the hand as you crane your neck to spot people.

“Uh, no. Is there juice?” 

“Um, there’s a questionable looking fruit punch.” she wrinkles her nose at the blaring red bowl on the counter. 

You sigh, grabbing a cup, “I’ll risk it.”

Joshua was air the second he had walked in with you, whisked away to socialize with his own hoard of acquaintances, leaving both you and Nayeon to fend for yourselves. You’re yet to spot your brother, granted you’d only been here a mere five minutes, his rowdy demeanor making him quite easy to spot in usual circumstances. 

Taking a casual sip of the electric red liquid you’re forced to make a face as you register the flavour, alerting Nayeon, who was too busy fiddling through multiple crystal bottles. 

“What? Is it bad?” 

“What the fuck is that?” You sputter in astonishment, wondering how the bowl was already half empty. “Who’s drinking this stuff?” 

She grabs the cup from you before taking a gulp herself, emerging the same gagging mess you were, eyes watering at the taste. It seemed almost comical when Seokmin shows up behind her, waiting to greet only to find both of you doubled over. His eyes move over to the potion in Nayeon’s hand and passes a knowing look.

“He’s brought The Whole Shabang out of retirement.” He states like it was the obvious answer.

Nayeon spits first, “Are we supposed to know what that means?” 

“Cheol got drunk one time in freshman year and mixed every ounce of alcohol he owned into one big bowl of despair. We retired it last year when the bowl broke and stained his counters. But anyway, beginners are supposed to dilute it before downing it.”

“That’s great and everything but why is it so red?” You ask.

Another voice speaks from behind you, turning around to find Seungcheol himself. “There’s an entire thing of food colouring in there, gives it an edge don’t you think?”

“I’m scared of you.” You deadpan, a sour expression remaining on your face. 

Seunghceol is quick to suggest the backyard for some fresh air to distract from the flavour it’s left in your mouths, commenting on the nice weather. Neither him nor your brother stick around for too long though, dipping at the holler of their names somewhere inside. You’re comfortable though, despite being blocked off by a concrete railing, the stairs make a nice haven for the both of you to lie down and stare into the clearer than usual sky. Cheol was right, it was nice outside. 

“I can’t lay down like this, I need to get a drink.” Nayeon announces not even five minutes later. 

“Why didn’t you get one when we were there?” You groan, but she doesn’t respond as she hops back inside, throwing a promise to be quick in the air behind her. 

The wall supports you as you deflate into it, legs sprawled across the steps in disarray. Nobody could see you anyway, taking full advantage as you practically manspread. The side of the pool that’s in your vision is empty by grace; calm save for the giant flamingo floaty that bobs itself into view from the edge of the wall you lean against. A breathy laugh leaves you at the sight. 

The railing on your other side is mostly concealed, you can still make out the wicker sofa set, complete with an unlit fireplace. It’s unoccupied, for the time being, as you register a conversation floating closer and closer to your ears. Wondering if Nayeon had brought friends, you stand up quickly to look over the railing to check for her face over the sliding door that leads inside. 

There’s no Nayeon in sight. 

But there is Mingyu. 

His mere presence knocks your butt back onto the concrete the second you see him stumbling over the threshold with a hoard of his friends, nothing short of his picturesque party strut. There was little reason for you to hide from him at all, considering the very possible notion that he would look right past you if you happened across his line of sight. Space floating in, he’d ignore you for your sake or his own, perhaps even both. 

For now, he’s seated himself with a few other people on the wicker sofas, leaving you hugging your knees to your chest, head on the concrete wall with the lingering feeling akin to that of a trapped mouse. Closing your eyes, you blow out air in an attempt to relax yourself, take light of the situation you’ve found yourself in. You could get up and leave in this very moment, possibly go unnoticed if you stalked back inside before they began their rattle not meant for your ears. 

And yet, you find yourself unable to move, not even when you hear their topic shift to Mingyu’s new beau. Suddenly you wish you’d moved inside the moment you saw him. 

“Was it you that stopped Jia from coming to parties?” You hear somebody ask.

“Why the fuck would I do that?” Mingyu grumbles, he pauses and you assume he’s taking a swing of his drink. “We started going out and suddenly she didn’t wanna come, that’s fine though, it isn’t her vibe anyway.”

There’s a snigger that moves across everybody seated, you hear loud thwack before Mingyu speaks again, “What’s so fucking funny?” 

“This girl’s made you work for it, huh?” 

“Isn’t that like, his brand? Don’t look at me like that, you’re the one yapping about liking a challenge all the time.”

“Yeah, remember Minji?” 

“I still think she was only pretending to not like you, her clique was always smacking at her to straighten up when you’d come over like we couldn’t see everything.” You could almost hear the eye rolling.

“Change the subject, will you?” Mingyu proposes, sounding exhausted at the prodding already.

“I apologise for the ex talk and nothing else.” 

There’s a pause for another choke of laughter across the group, and you wonder what it was that they found so funny. 

“I don’t know if I should say this…” Somebody begins, but is cut off by Mingyu.

“Then don’t say it.” He snaps, but you don’t miss his own jest. 

“I honestly thought you were gonna date Seok’s sister at some point. I mean, common consensus is that bagging your best friend’s sister is… what you’d call a challenge.”

What the fuck. 

You feel your eyes drifting closed at the turn this conversation has taken, wishing to simply fall asleep at what it’s come to. Somebody speaks up. 

“Nah, that’s like, the grand slam prize, that one comes after he’s done hanging with the side quests.” 

The situation is making itself out to be something out of a fever dream. 

Mingyu tsks, and you note a jostle happening through the gaps of the railing. “I’m leaving.” 

You find yourself hugging yourself tighter, eyes shut like he wouldn’t be able to see if you couldn’t see him. Not that it was possible unless he peered directly through the railing in his peripheral. 

“OKAY! Okay! We’re kidding.” There’s a pause. “Okay, but really…”

Another pause, this time longer. You hate how you can picture the ghost of an exasperated smile on Mingyu’s face, a bite of his lip perhaps, dejected at the shoulder with his longing, distant look. You hate how your mind fills the gaps of him the railing won’t allow you to see. 

“Seok’s not the type to beat me up if I dated his sister. And besides…” He sighs, halting his words.

“Besides what?” Somebody chimes in.

“I’m not interested in going after someone who’s chased my tail for the past fifteen years.”

There’s a chorus of hisses and oh’s, a few bounts of laughter in their disbelief. You can feel your stomach twist, heat pooling your figure. 

It would’ve been better if his words had hit you like a gong, maybe the aftermath wouldn’t have felt as horrid. But the connotations crept up on you like a million spiders making their trek up to your brain, waiting to stick their crawlers in the bits that would allow those words to hold meaning for you. You can feel the electric red of Seungcheol’s god awful concoction begin to rise up in your throat like bile; burning, imprinting. 

Mingyu had said what he had said. And everything was in it’s place, in finality. 

Despite the nearly four year age gap, you and Seokmin had co-existed without the semblance of an older-younger duo. It was mostly owed to Seokmin's shy nature, and his difficulty making solid friends. That, however, didn’t last long as your brother progressed through middle school. 

You had met Mingyu for the first time when Seokmin brought his first ever friend from school home for dinner. 

Despite being barely nine years old and half spoon fed by your mother at the same table, the prospect of Seokmin’s new friend was equal to you having a new friend – which caused enough excitement as you brought your favourite cartoon books into your brother’s room to show this new person after dinner. 

As the following year progressed, you saw less and less of your brother, and more and more of newer faces of ‘friends’ that you weren’t allowed to play with. It was distressing enough to be told by your mother that something of your brother’s was not yours, but even more so when you were kicked out of the room by Seokmin himself for the very first time.

It wasn’t as trauamtising as it felt in the moment, because you grew to find your own group of friends, doing the same as you’d kick your brother out for being annoying – except unlike you, he was doing it on purpose. 

Mingyu was a recurring face, one that was nicer to you on the days your brother was meaner, more forgiving on the days your relatively new middle school was relentless. He fit himself in your life easier than you had realised, more comfortable than you soon found you were comfortable with.

“Did you take my guitar picks?” Your brother bursts into your room just as your about to fall into your after school nap, grip loosening on the book in hand. 

Jolting awake at the sound of loud voice, you don’t respond as you attempt to orient yourself. 

“Well? Did you?” He demands again.

“What? No, I don’t know where your stupid guitar pick is.” You grumble. “Get out.”

“It’s not in my room that has to mean you took it, where is it?” 

Mingyu emerges from behind him, hand on his arm as he tries to pull his iron grip off of your doorway. “It’s probably just in your bag, you haven’t even looked!” 

Kicking the covers off, you sit up in a disarray, progressively annoyed at your brother for ruining your perfect descent into dreamland. 

“I don’t have shit, you just suck at keeping tabs on your stuff!” You grit. 

There’s a stagnant pause as he stares at you from the doorway. You can sense it coming. And it does. 

“MOM! SHE JUST SWORE!” He yells into the hallway, bounding to where your mother was, leaving an unsure Mingyu in your doorway.

Surprisingly, you were just glad he was gone, wanting to melt back into the covers. You make eye contact with Mingyu. “I really don’t have it.” 

“It’s probably in there somewhere, he’s just not looking.” He mumbles, standing a little awkward. “Um, go back to whatever it was, I’ll close your door.”

He does so, allowing you to finally slump back into your pillows to go back to your nap.

You find out quickly that you couldn't sleep after that.

The controller is becoming increasingly uncomfortable to hold. It doesn’t help that you’re brother is chewing on his four additional pieces of gum behind you on the couch, making obnoxious comments about your gaming form. 

You’re also sitting a foot away from Kim Mingyu on the floor, with whom you’re forced to battle out on Mario Kart. 

“Why’re you clicking the buttons so hard, chill out.” You heat Seokmin say, continued by his wet chomping right by your ear. 

“How hard is it to chew with your mouth closed?” Mingyu grits.

“What? Like this?” Seokmin leans over to Mingyu, chewing even louder, mouth wrenched open and closed right into his ear. Mingyu makes a sound before falling to his side, covering his ears at the ghastly sound, pushing him back with his free hand to shut him up.

You barely crack a smile at the unfolding, watching them continue to wrestle half on the floor. It’s noisy when you set your controller down, chest heavy, unfolding your legs to walk into the hallway to your room. Unnoticed. 

You only reemerge to feed yourself, inspecting the fridge for possible leftovers. Settling on an apple, you’re closing the fridge when you see Mingyu walk in, seemingly taken aback to see you there. You freeze with your mouth still attached to the apple to take a bite. 

“Oh! Where’d you go when we were playing? Didn't notice you gone till I got him to spit that wad of gum out his mouth.”

“Uh, just tired. Took a nap.” 

He hums in response and you're just about to leave when he starts talking again. 

“Hey, did you move the popcorn somewhere else? Could’ve sworn it was in here last week,” he mumbles as he rummages through a cabinet. 

“Oh. Um. It’s in the pantry.” You move before you can think, grabbing the box and slamming it on the counter, pausing briefly before reaching for the popcorn bowl and setting it on the counter next to it. “Here.”

You don’t wait for a reply before grabbing your apple and moving out the kitchen, only to bump into your brother at the door. 

“Where’ve you been?” 

“Napping,” you say, moving around him to go your own way but are stopped yet again as he calls for you. 

“We’re gonna watch a movie! You can lie on the couch.” 

Turning around, you catch sight of your brother still in the doorway, and more intriguing, Mingyu also expecting an answer from inside the kitchen behind him. You gulp as you attempt to remain casual.

“Nah, I’m good. You guys have fun.” 

You’re nearly at your door when you hear your brother speak. “She didn’t even ask what we were watching.”

Nayeon catches up with you before you notice, pulling your headphones away from your ears to announce her presence, not slowing down as you walked to campus. 

“Are you still upset about that Mingyu thing?” She asks when noting your silent demeanor. “We talked about this, come on.”

“Yeah and we concluded that it’s not an easy thing for me to just get over.” You huffed.

“You know what he’s like…” 

“Which is why I should’ve seen this all coming.” You turn around the corner with her.

“That’s not what I meant either.”

“I don’t know what came over me that day. I was doing so well for so long and I had to go ruin it because I’m – I deluded myself into thinking I had a chance.” You’re breathing heavily when you find a table in the air conditioned common room, yanking your bag off and slumping into the sofa. “None of this would’ve happened if I just shut the fuck up.” 

“What wouldn’t have happened?” Seungcheol plops down next to Nayeon, butting into the conversation. 

“Aren’t you intrigued.” Nayeon muses. 

“Especially when it’s none of my business.” 

“Charming.” 

“Anywho,” he sighs, throwing himself back against the couch. “I’ve been tasked with rounding people up for an assignment.”

“Are you gonna experiment on us?” you ask, referring to his chemistry major. 

“Nah, this is for an elective. Faculty needs volunteers for a photography class.” 

“So they need models?” You ask.

“I mean, anyone who signs up is automatically a model, so yeah they need models.” 

“Are we getting paid?” 

“You get to say you modeled for me.” 

“How convincing.” Nayeon deadpans. 

You’re stifling a snicker as you see Joshua walking up to where you were sat, planting himself next to you. 

“What’re we talking about?” He asks, pulling his laptop out almost immediately.

“Nothing, just how Seungcheol needs a reality check,” you sigh. 

He barely acknowledges the comment, going straight to business typing away. “Hey, you're staying for the summer right?” 

“Ew,” Seungcheol voices. 

“I am,” You confirm. 

“For what?” He sputters. 

“Is this you offering to pay for a round trip?” 

He silences quickly after that, giving room for Joshua to ask his next question. 

“Are your parents coming for your brother’s grad?” 

“Mhm, only for the night, though.”

“Oh, did you hear back from the bookstore too?” he asks. 

“I’m gonna apply right before break, I’m swamped right now.” 

“Let me know when you do, the restaurant might need another hire, you could work there if you want.” 

You make a face. “Appreciate the sentiment but I don’t think I’m in the right state of mind to be working in customer service.” 

Joshua’s hands freeze over his keyboard as he breathes out a delayed laugh. Nayeon mimics him.

“Right state of mind?” Seungcheol’s eyebrows are furrowed. “Wait, what were you talking about before I sat down again-” 

He’s cut off by a voice bellowing your name from across the common room. All four of you perk up at the sound, locking in on Mika aggressively pointing her wrist at you from yards away. You sit up with a jerk, checking the time. You were nearly thirty minutes late for your lecture.

“Josh, move.” You basically climb over him to get out of your seat, waving a hasty goodbye as you sprint to an exasperated Mika. 

“I’ve been waiting outside the hall for ages, you said we’d go in together!” she chides as you both speedwalk. 

“Sorry, I lost track of time…” You huff out a breath. “I just started talking about…whatever.” 

“Why’d you have that face on in there?” she asks.

“Huh? Oh, I was-”

“Nevermind, I don’t wanna know.” She picks up the pace and reaches the door before you do, rendering it impossible for you to speak to her after that. 

You’ve forgotten about it by the time you come home to an empty house, both Mika and Nayeon in your arms. It doesn’t take long for them to make themselves comfortable on the couch, looking at you expectantly like children waiting to be fed. You do that, courtesy of the half eaten pizza that sits on the coffee table. 

“I think you need to get drunk,” Nayeon voices from her end of the couch. 

Mika is immediate with her response, “Don’t encourage her.” 

“Hey!” You pout, “I haven’t gotten drunk in a while.”

“Keep it that way,” she shudders, “don’t need another Mingyu fiasco.” 

Your chewing slows at the sound of his name, a strange feeling settling in your stomach at the thought of him. Setting down your half eaten slice, you brush off your fingers. 

“I mean…” Nayeon starts after a long pause. 

“We don’t. Need another Mingyu fiasco, I mean.” You cut in. 

“If only he’d learn to shut up.” Nayeon grumbles, a sour expression on her face. 

Mika’s been shifting looks between the both of you, seemingly confused. “Am I missing something?”  

Despite not having the intention, you find yourself telling her what you heard while enclosed in the staircase. You attempt to keep it concise, for the sake of your own sanity, but Nayeon’s grumbling is only pushing you deeper into a rant. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t let a couple frustrated tears make their way down your face. 

Mika’s response as brisk as your explanation was passionate, brushing over the topic quickly before you got too heated. You appreciated it. 

“Have you considered signing up for the photography thing?” Mika asks.

“You know, I was thinking about that too.” Nayeon pulls a finger up in signed patience to wait till she finished the remaining pizza in her mouth. “You should do it. It’ll put your mind off…him. You’ll be busier too.”

“I have a million things to do, I’m busy enough.” You retort. 

“You’re busy studying at home. Where he could drop in at any point of day.” She points. 

Your open your mouth to rebut again, only to close it as you fail to find a reason to deny her point. “Okay, still!” 

“Just – think about it, okay. It’ll put more on your plate but maybe it’ll help.”

That was the last of your Mingyu talk, not that you could carry on when your brother comes slumping into the house after his class, stealing a slice of pizza as he makes his way to his room. He’s slumped at the shoulders, and you egg him to take a nap before he collapsed on the living room floor. 

Both Nayeon and Mika are quick to leave after that, leaving you with leftover pizza and your thoughts.

You sprawl your things out on the coffee table, taking advantage of the silent house to get some work done. Nayeon was right, as you think of the prospect of Mingyu entering at any given moment to bother your brother as a constant threat. 

It’s not until your prepping dinner with Seokmin that the project is brought up again.

“There’s leftover Chow Mein Mingyu made yesterday, shove that in too.” He yawns as he pushes the box over. 

You can only stare at the box in mild agitation, contemplating if you should simply chuck it into the garbage chute. Unfortunately, by experience, you knew Mingyu made really good Chow Mein, so you begrudgingly slide the opened box into the microwave to heat up, deciding you’d push Seok to eat it before you have a chance to take a bite. 

It’s silent while you eat, Seokmin still in a daze from his earlier nap, shoving spoonfuls of noodles in between bites of pizza. It’s not until your halfway through eating before he jolts up slightly like he’d just remembered something.

“Did you hear about that volunteering thing from the photography department? They want models for some project.” 

“Oh, yeah.” You pause, thinking back to what Nayeon had proposed. “Are you gonna sign up?” 

“No, but you should.”

“I don’t know, I still have a lot of prep for finals.”

“You get extra credit if it helps,” he notes. 

That was news to you. There’s a frown on your face as you deny, “No, you don’t.” 

“They’re doing it ‘cause they weren’t getting the response they wanted. I found out just now too, they’re gonna put it up on the bulletin tomorrow. Might wanna decide before then.” 

There were no questions asked after the realization, blue light of the laptop casting your face aglow in the darkened room as you hit the big blue Confirm button on the website. Skimming through the subsequent email, you find you won’t be needed till next week, the date and time making it’s way to your calendar. 

Now, if you had known what the next week truly held for you, there was no doubt you’d be sending in a cancellation email at first chance. 

But you didn’t know. So you simply went to bed, falling asleep to the vague idea of searching for modeling tips on youtube during the coming weekend, entertaining the mild possibility that this might be the thing that puts you at peace at last. 

The photography classes are held in regular lecture rooms, as you find out as you file into the sparingly filled hall at the date your calendar has graciously alerted you for. There was an image of a larger, more spacious area for a discipline pertaining to the arts, yet to be fair, the idea of having to create this form of art within a four walled containment did seem a little counter productive. 

Nonetheless, you find yourself seated in a spare chair, waiting for the clock to hit nine on a Saturday morning for the shuffling professor at the front of the room to begin. Your eyes make passovers across the gradually filling room, searching for a semblance of Seuncheol’s bright blond hair to wave him over. There’s no sign of him five minutes before the minute hit twelve, and you’re thinking about slipping to the restroom before it can to kill the remaining time. 

There’s another person filing into the room as you rise from your chair, and you pause in attempt to recognize Cheol in the grey zip up.

Except you don’t find Seungcheol, not at all. 

Mingyu is walking into the classroom, gaze sweeping across the hall as he seats himself in the front bottom row, head thrown back as he sifts through his perfect hair with his fingers. 

You aren't sure why your brows furrowed like they did, or why you planted your butt back onto the chair with the force that you did; especially when all you wanted to do was book it out of the room in full velocity. 

He was taking this class. Of course you knew that, especially when it was all he would yap about at any point he graced your presence. 

You can feel your purpose in the room fade to nothing as you register him as a unit. You want to blame someone, but you know it’s all you fault. You knew he’d be here; if your mind had only thought fit to remind you at any point in the past week. 

In regular Mingyu fashion, if he’d seen you, he does nothing to show it as you find him unraveling a loose thread off of his jacket. You keep your eyes on him, remaining mortified at your blatant disregard to the information that Mingyu was also in this class. Come to think of it, it was probably Mingyu who told Seokmin about the added credit in the first place. You want to kick yourself for not questioning your brother’s apparent magical source of information. 

There’s nothing that can be done as you feel Seungcheol finally slip into the seat next to you just as the professor in the front of the room begins to speak. You’re not in the right headspace to make conversation, so you're grateful for the small acknowledgment as the professor begins to drone. 

“Each student has been given a theme to work with, they’re all different and given to the people whom I saw fit for the job. You’ll be receiving your packets with your theme today, so remember to pick them up from the front desk before you leave,” she begins. 

“As for your models,” she switches to the next slide over to reveal a spreadsheet full of names. “Their names will be right next to yours, the photography students.” 

The entire room lurches forward as a unit, eyes squinted and whispers exchanged as they search for their partners in the sea of names. Seungcheol is zooming in on the picture he took with his phone, eyes zooming over to find his name. 

“Hey, I found yours!” he announces, moving the phone over to you. 

He’s zoomed into your full name on the screen, and your moving the picture aside to see the name across from it. Except, you find you wish you hadn’t. 

—Kim, Mingyu. 

If you needed more confirmation that the universe was simply against you, you’d gotten the message as you prayed the letters would morph into something else before your very eyes. 

You seem to have been staring at the name for too long, because Seungcheol snatches his phone back from your grip to see for himself after you refused to answer his questions of what the name next to yours was. 

“Oh, it’s Mingyu! That’s easy, you're basically related.”

You wanted to slap him. 

Before you can stop him, he’s yelling the boy’s name across the room amidst the growing chatter, the biggest, stupidest grin on his face. “Mingyu! I found your model, she’s right here! 

You wanted to squeeze Seungcheol’s neck till his head popped off. 

Mingyu turns around at the call, registering his friend’s words despite the growing noise. He registers you and you watch as he turns his head back at the projection, like he was confirming it was true. 

Of course he’s as petrified as you are, if not more. But the embarrassment of his apparent disbelief made its hot way into your stomach and chest nonetheless, your breakfast threatening to make its way back up. 

By the time the professor’s done with her bit and the room has begun to file out, you’ve found yourself standing outside the lecture hall in uncomfortable movement, shifting your weight between both feet and fiddling with the straps of your bag. Every passing face sends a jolt though your stomach as you calculate how jarring it would be if you left right this second without seeing him. 

You're counting his steps inside your head, how he’d shuffle for his name on the packet he’s meant to receive, counting in any conversation he’d start with a friend or with the professor. A thought occurs to you, and you wonder if he was searching for you inside. You’re weighing between walking inside and leaving altogether when he makes the decision for you, walking out of the room, booklet in hand. 

There goes the toast blaring its way back up your esophagus. 

“Hey,” he says unceremoniously. 

You respond with an unreasonably meek “Hi.” 

“Seok didn’t tell me you signed up for this.” He points casually. 

Well, Seok doesn’t need to tell you everything. 

“Oh, I told him while he was like half asleep, pretty sure he thought he dreamt it.”

Mingyu snorts a little at that, a slight smile appearing on his face as he pictures a sleepy Seokmin. 

“I can imagine,” he says, before he’s brought back to the matter at hand by you. 

You clear your throat before you begin to talk, expression remaining neutral. “Do we need to get started right away?” 

“Oh.” He seems a little taken aback at your forwardness. Like he didn’t know why you didn’t want to make small talk with him. “Uh, I don’t even know what theme I have yet. I’ll read over the packet and plan a couple things out before you have to come in.”

“That’s great.” You hold on the straps of your tote. “Text me when you need me.”

With that, you had spun on your heel and stalked away, not leaving room for him to retort with anything at all. You don’t look back. 

Nayeon can do nothing but gape as she watches you hold back frustrated tears, picking apart the grass under you as you curse the heavens for your horrible fate. She’s absorbing the situation as you wallow, finding the words to say.

“Fuck, this is my fault,” she breathes out.

“No!” You gasp out, furiously wiping away the irritating tears. “It’s not. I just forgot, it’s my own fault. You were right for trying to get me to do it, it just…”

“You can’t ask to change partners?” she asks.

“I can’t!” You wail, “I’m supposed to not care, how is this me not caring?” 

It was ridiculous. Truly. You were sobbing like a child over this, screaming about wanting to not care. But you did care. Too much. Nayeon can do little but hold you as you sniffle into her lap, feeling sick to your stomach at your own childish behaviour. 

“Why am I crying about this, this is stupid.”

“You’re stressed, hon, that’s it. You’ve got a lot going on and this just multiplied it.” She’s running a soothing hand over your back. “Just let it out, you need it.”

You emerge from your hunched position to sit up straight, sniffling a little less as you calm down. “Should I withdraw from the project?” 

“I mean, if you really want to,” she says softly. 

“But?” You sense her apprehension.

“But, maybe you should give it a go.” 

You can only blink at her with wet lashes.

“Think of it this way. You need to… build resistance, keep yourself around him regardless. There’s bound to come a point where you start to feel…nothing.” 

“Are you trying to work exposure therapy on me?” 

“Maybe? If that’s what it means. If you take yourself out of the project, it shows that you care. You need to pretend to not care before you can stop feeling the real thing.” 

There’s a pause as you attempt to find reason in her words.

“Listen, I may be talking out of my ass, and if you do end up doing it, it’s gonna be hard – like a lot, but–”

“No. You’re making sense.” 

“I am?” She blinks, taken aback at the realisation that you may be listening to her. You nod quietly, “You’re right, I can’t keep running away.” 

“So, you’re gonna do it?” She confirms with wide eyes.

Once again, you find it within yourself to nod. 

Yeah. You were gonna do it.

Being in Mingyu’s presence and feeling nothing may be the goal, but you realise quickly it’s going to take you a while to restrain the trailing eyes that follow him wherever he goes. Nayeon had warned you, but you realise you may be slightly ill-prepared. 

The theme is light. Vague to you but he doesn’t seem too bothered by it. He isn’t looking at you as he talks, eyes darting between the laptop screen and the plethora of papers he’s scattered on the coffee table. “I don’t really have a colour preference for this one but a a deeper blue or a purple would fit pretty well with the sunlight on here.”

You can only nod along in mild understanding, most of your effort exerted on trying to keep your eyes on the screen where he’s pulling up a color wheel. “I probably have something.” 

“Do you still have that button up Seok bought you? The one with the stripes?”

You recall the deep blue shirt your brother had gotten you for your first in class presentation, picturing it hung still in your closet. “Uh, yeah I do. I’ll wear it.”

“Bring options, whatever fits the colours. No turtlenecks or crewnecks though…” Mingyu continues to talk, taking notes for you in the process. Your mind, however, is somewhere else.

You hate how your mind takes you to a murkier place, one where the thought of him retaining memory of your closet pieces unprovoked has your neck tingling and your cheeks lifting. Trying to snap out of it before he notices your dazed expression, you pretend to flip through the couple papers in front of you, noting nothing. 

“Other than that–” he’s cut off by his phone ringing on the table. Both your gazes dart to the caller ID, and you immediately wish you hadn’t as you register the pink heart on the end. Jia was calling. 

He barely spares you a glance as he excuses himself in a mumble, something about being back in a second. You watch him leave through the cafe altogether, emerging on the other end of the glass walls in your direct vision. For the nth time that day, you find it impossible to tear your eyes away from his positively elated face, teeth out on display as talks to his girlfriend. You wonder what they’re talking about, if her face is beaming like his own, wherever she is. 

You zone out as you wonder what it’d be like to be the receiving end of an expression like that. To have something within you to be worth his smile, his mumbled pardons and his uninterrupted space. There’s a part of you that wonders if its greed – you’ve gotten to see him nearly everyday for the past decade, perhaps you’ve run your tickets dry. 

You realise quickly that Mingyu is no longer in your line of sight as you feel a ruffle on the chair as he sits back on his seat. 

“I think we can wrap up here, let me take the first couple shots before I can see where to go with it afterwards.”

You sense his eager want to leave, and you cannot help but beat him to it for your own sake. 

“Alright. I’ll see you friday then.” SLiding out of your seat, you make a halfhearted attempt at shuffling his papers in a neater pile, throwing him a half smile before grabbing your bag.

He isn’t watching you leave, you know that. Yet you find yourself refusing to slow down or look back till you round the corner, letting your shoulders finally slump and your pace to come to a temporary halt. It takes you another beat before you begin walking again, breathing in slowly as you navigate your way through the moderately crowded sidewalk. Nearly ramming into a fire hydrant, you shake off the seize that remains in your body, picking up the pace hoping it’d promote less thoughts.

It works, as you unlock your front door, finally shaking off the autopilot. Shifting to the kitchen is easy, rummaging the cabinets for your hidden stash of moonpies with the intention to devour the family box whole. You’re contemplating texting Seokmin to bring you actual food as you make your way to your bedroom, wanting nothing more than to let your covers absorb all the feelings that make you human. 

You find it unfortunate as you catch sight of yourself in the full length mirror and the outfit you’d put together before you had left. Your mind goes back to pandemonium as you take in the details, wondering why on earth you’d put in so much effort for a conversation that lasted less than an hour. You tear your eyes away before you begin to truly hate yourself, ripping your jewelry off as you make a beeline to wash your face clean of the makeup you’d put on. 

It becomes increasingly difficult to look at yourself even in the bathroom mirror, moisturizer going on more aggressively than what’s good for you. You feel a sting in the back of your eyes and owe it to the face wash. 

It’s easier once you’re in bed, your laptop at the ready, and a text on its way as you bug your brother to bring you your favorite burger and milkshake combo. You put your immediate faith in your moonpies for now as you rip the first one open, letting the sweetness bring you a deluded happiness. 

“His name hurts.” Your voice comes out echoey, the sound reverberating in the cavern of your chest. The shot on the table is inviting, but you can’t help but feel nauseous at the thought of downing it. Your fizzled out sprite is being good to you, so you let it.

“Hearing you talk about him hurts,” Mika slurs, slumping down onto the beanbag she’s dragged onto the scene, joining you and Nayeon next to the couch. 

Letting out a loud sigh that you doubt she can hear over the bass booming across the house, you settle to rest your head back on the couch backrest, staring into the ceiling. “Imagine what it’s doing to me then.”

“I don’t need to.” You can hear the exasperation in her voice. 

“Oh, hey, Hao!” Nayeon drags next to you and you lift your head up to see Mika’s boyfriend join her on the already tiny beanbag. He huffs out a hey between a slight smile, slumping almost entirely on his girlfriend. She pats his hair in silent regard. 

“I read this research paper about how they can delete the memories out of your brain squiggles,” Nayeon pops in.

“Since when do you read academic material for interest?” Minghao mumbles, fingers busy playing with Mika’s hair.

The pair continue to bicker as your eyes trail across the moderately packed house, the party looking more lowbeat than any other Seungcheol extravaganzas. Not that you were complaining, but when you spot a certain someone, it’s hard not to. 

Mingyu files into the kitchen with your brother in tow, beaming face evident over the island as he pours himself what looks like orange juice. Your mood is instantly soured.

“What study was that again?” You poke at Nayeon, the image of the man you wished for gone burned into your forebrain. She glances over to the open kitchen and realises what you’re talking about, coming around with a face of her own.

“That one’s gonna be a hard one to scrub out. But it’s okay, even the toughest stains succumb to bleach that’s strong enough,” she sighs. You’re barely listening to her analogy, not when he’s standing right there rendering it impossible for you to look anywhere else. 

“You sound like a commercial.” You can almost hear the crinkle in Mika’s nose as she comments, and you can’t help but breathe out a laugh. 

The rest continue with their conversation as you remain quiet for most of the exchange, eyes filling your heart heavy with the way they remain glued to the figure far out into the kitchen. It was less about the fact that you just wanted to look at him and more of how it was forcing you to think about your predicament; something that was weighing you down yet something you couldn’t help. 

You can’t be entirely sure how long you managed to stare without getting caught, but when Mika calls your name out harsher than expected, you snap around to divert your attention. 

“Huh?”

“Sixth time’s the charm, huh? Get it together, he’s not gonna look at you,” she huffs as she slumps back onto the beanbag, alone this time as you note that Minghao is gone.

It takes you a moment to gather what she had said, mouth gaping open and close as you try to conspire a proper response. “I wasn’t trying–”

“No. Save it. It was my fault for thinking I could sit here without having to sit through more of your Mingyu bullshit.” She’s shuffling out of her bean bag with mediocre difficulty, exasperation on her face as she trudges away to sit with her boyfriend and his friends on the seats on the middle of the floor. 

The air seems to have knocked out of your chest as you find the capacity to process what just happened. Seemingly forgotten Nayeon was also here, you note the hand she places on your elbow as a sober attempt to get you to look at her. 

The rest of the night passes in a nauseous blur, none that you could really make sense of. You bid Nayeon goodbye as you assured her you’d go home with your brother, waving goodbye to blurred taxi lights as she leaves you alone in front of a dwindling house. 

The breath you let out is shaky as your feet remain planted on the concrete, the remnants of tonight passing over you as they came. Deciding you owed it to yourself, you let the tears well up in your eyes. As tired as you were of crying over what was essentially the same thing over and over again, you let yourself tire yourself out once more. 

The party was over, and you knew that because you were walking home alone, hoping Nayeon would forgive you for lying to her. But you couldn’t possibly explain the tear stains on your cheeks to your brother, not when he knew nothing. It was better that way; you refuse to be the person that potentially ruins a friendship that’s lasted longer than any other.  

You try to keep your sniffling to a minimum as you trudge slowly in the dark, not bothering to wipe your tears. Your stomping grows louder the more you grow frustrated with your thoughts, and it proves not too well for you. There’s a pair of headlights throwing light onto the oncoming street, illuminating you in the process. You want to kick yourself as the realisation settles in, praying the car would simply pass you. Considering the late hour and the fact that you were alone is hitting you at the worst time, wondering if you could pretend to make a call as you walked. 

It’s a black sedan that rolls up next to you, slower than what’s considered a normal speed on an empty street. It honks and you nearly halt, owing to the shake that passes through your knees. It honks again, and you can’t help but look to the side to find a window rolled down. 

Mingyu sits on the driver’s seat, leaning over to the empty passenger side to grab your attention. 

“The Uber’s free! So is the driver,” he yells out the window. “Hop in.”

“I’m alright. I kinda wanna walk.” You shift your weight between your feet, the distance adding an awkward feel. 

“Wasn’t asking. It’s the middle of the night, I’m not letting you walk alone.” As he speaks, another car passes from behind him, slowing down. You note the look the other driver is giving you through the window, and it’s enough to convince you to step into Mingyu’s car. 

“I think we’re way past the point of formalities, don’t know why you hesitated.” He chuckles as he motions for you to click on your seatbelt. You fumble with it for a moment, his own fingers coming to the rescue to latch it on. You retract your fingers before they can brush with his own any further. 

Settling into your seat, you choose to look forward as he picks up speed. “Uhm, just wanted to walk, it was nice outside.”

“Take someone with you next time, it’s nearly midnight,” he warns. 

There’s a twinge of annoyance that emerges in the back of your mind for some reason, despite knowing full well that he was right. You just didn’t want to hear it from him.

It’s silent for a bit as the radio plays an uncharacteristically upbeat tune, prompting you to wonder if it was just you who felt the atmosphere pressing in on your chest.

“Did you not bring your car today?” he asks out of the blue, eyes remaining on the road as you glance up at him. One look at his side profile and you’re turning your gaze away.

“No, it’s at the workshop. I came with Nayeon.” 

“Why didn’t you leave with her?”

“I…” You pause. “I told her I was gonna go with Seok.”

“Hm. That didn’t happen.”

“It’s like I said,” you mumble.

He hums again in response, dropping the subject.

“Listen, are you…are you okay?” he starts again and it has you looking back up at him. 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” You try to hide the bitterness in your tone but it proves difficult.

“I couldn’t help but overhear but I was sitting right there. Hao was talking to Mika about something she’d said to you, about…” He trails off. “I mean, you looked a little upset, I just wanted to ask if you were okay.”

You bit your tongue. Hard. 

He knew you were staring at him, he knew you weren’t over him. He knew you were still standing on the same square confinement from months ago. Never changed. 

“I’m fine,” you reply, snappier than you had intended. 

“Are you sure? I felt like I should’ve said something but Nayeon was right there so I thought…” He sounds unsure and when you see him look at you, with eyes filled with an emotion that makes you nearly gag, you almost lose it. You did not want him to pity you. Nor care for you; especially when it came from a place that nullifies your feelings. You didn’t want him to care for you for the sole reason that you were his best friend’s sister. 

“Mingyu, I think it’s best if you drop it.”

“Of course. But it might help if you wanna, you know, feel your feelings.” 

Fuck no, you weren’t crying in front of him. Not when you're sure he’s noticed the tear stains on your makeup.

“Mingyu, I said drop it. I don’t need your help, I don’t need to feel anything, I need you stop feeling like you’re obligated to care about me because you’re not.” The words come tumbling out before you can stop them, irritation laced in every snap and dent.

He says your name in an attempt to smooth you over. It only lands him in more trouble.

“No, listen, I get it. You’re uncomfortable about everything but you feel like you need to check up on me at the same time, and I’m here to tell you that you don’t have to worry about that. What happened, happened, and it’s my job to pick up the pieces because it’s my fault. You don’t need to meddle.” You’re breathing hard as you finish, finally settling back in your seat. 

He’s already pulling up to your building, heat still penetrating the silence. You unbuckle your seatbelt, mumbling a thanks for the ride. 

“Seok’s staying at Cheol’s tonight,” he calls out as you shuffle out the door. “Remember to lock the door.” 

You stand sheepishly holding the open door as you nod quietly. “I’ll see you tomorrow for the shoot.”

Middle school was harder than you thought. 

Not that you expected it to be easy, but you remained hopeful nonetheless. Fifth grade came plowing for you with an unexpected vigor, which you were feeling especially as you gripped your red marked paper with a vice grip. 

It was Mingyu who had found you on the kitchen island sniffling, waiting for your mother to come home and ask you for your dreaded test results. 

You drop your head in shame (even more so) when he asks you the inevitable question of “what’s wrong?” Your voice comes out as a mumble. “I failed my first test.” 

He blinks as he stops in front of the fridge, opening it to emerge with a carton of chocolate milk and two monsters. He slides the carton over to you as he takes a seat on the other chair. 

“Well, what did you get?” he asks as he pops his can open, ears studded black from the piercings he’d gotten done. 

You mumble out the number in incoherence that has him hunching down to hear you. 

“What?” 

“A fifteen!” you finally huff out in exasperation. 

“Hm. Better than me I think I got a two at some point. Don’t worry about it, it's not the end of the world.” He says. “D’you want me to turn that into a seventy five?” 

You look up confused. “How?”

“You’ll see. Get me your test. And a red marker.” 

On that day, Mingyu aided you in your first con, pulling lines to turn the one into a seven right before your eyes. 

“There. Now don’t let her look at it too hard or check your answers. And only give it to her if she asks for it.” 

He had left back to your brother’s room with the spare can of monster, leaving you to stash your test into your bag and move to seat yourself in a more natural position. You’d gotten away with it as your mother pats you on the back for your first attempt at a fifth grade paper, leaving you with a lesson to work harder, and a memory that stayed with you for years. 

The following day is met with a pit of guilt sitting in your stomach before you could even recall the events of last night. 

There’s little that you can do to prep as you’re supposed to change at the studio anyway, pushing the remnants of your makeup products into a pouch as a second thought. Your hair seemed fine, deciding you’d see to it if it needed changing when you got there. 

You push your departure as far as you could, finding more things to do and more chores to finish before you were due to leave. It takes you a final look at the time before you finally decide to trudge to the door with your things. You cross paths with Seokmin who’s only just coming home, looking worse for wear. He barely acknowledges you as he makes a beeline for his bedroom, disappearing. 

He’s probably fine. 

By the time you get to the studio Mingyu is already in the middle of setting up, immersed in the switches behind giant studio lights. It’s dark, save for the one studio light thats already on, casting a light on the white backdrop, a single stool sits at the front. Looking around, the place casts an eerie atmosphere, the unattended stations and dark back rooms casting a shiver down your spine despite the Afternoon light outside. Perhaps you were acclimated to the hustle and bustle in behind the scene videos of photoshoots, yet here it was just you and Mingyu. 

He doesn’t notice you come in right away, and you’re thankful for the opportunity to recast your words in your head, waiting to be uttered as soon as you say your hellos. 

“Oh, hey,” he says normally. 

“Hope I’m not too late.”

“No, you’re fine, I’m nearly done setting up,” he says, as he switches the second studio light on, doubling the glow in the room. 

“Oh, okay.” Your voice comes out as an uncharacteristic whisper. “Uh, listen, Mingyu, I just wanted to apologize about last night. You were only asking and I was being too harsh.”

He picks up his back from his bent position to look at you, hand coming to rub the back of his neck. “Oh, no, don’t say that, It’s me who should be apologising. I shouldn’t have pried when you said you didn’t wanna talk about it. I’m sorry, really.” 

You're opening your mouth to rebut, nails clashing onto each other as your fidgeting gets worse, but you decide to end it. “We’re both sorry, let’s just end this here.” 

Both of you have slightly uncomfortable smiles on your faces as Mingyu continues to fidget with his cables and equipment. It went smoother than you’d thought, silently thanking him for keeping it from getting awkward – more awkward than necessary anyway. 

“These ones are gonna be basic studies, establishing the usual studio lights in the beginning before we move to the more experimental shots.” He drags his own stool forward to sit directly across from you in front of the plain white backdrop. “Did you bring another black top?”

“I did, do you want me to change?”

“Not yet.” He positions the camera higher, looking like he’s ready. “Okay, relax your body. Shoulders back, chin down. Okay, now a smile, really small, barely there.” 

He snaps his first photo and you nearly knock yourself backwards on the stool, lights going off at the shot damn near blinding you. 

“You good?”

“I thought the flash was just gonna be your camera.” You frown, coming round. 

“Nah, you’ll get used to it. Okay, back in position.”

He takes a couple more pictures, urging you to make miniscule changes to your poses, whatever feels good. You find yourself loosening up, your posture aiding you instead of working against you. “Try putting your hands on the stool, yeah like that, lean forward. Chin up a little more.”

The directions continue from behind the camera as he continues to flash away, and you do your utmost to not let the lights disorient you too much. He lets you take a break when you make a comment about the pure thermal energy in the room, your face no doubt shiny and red from the lights. You’re done after you take a couple more pictures after an outfit change, rendering you free to leave within the hour. 

“I think you’re done,” he announces, stretching as he leaves his own stool. “I’ll send you deets for tomorrow, we’ll probably get a lot more done.”

“Oh, cool.” 

Gathering your stuff doesn’t take you as you go up to tell him you’re about to leave. You find him fiddling with cables, packing everything up before leaving himself. You make a split second decision, dropping your bag before announcing yourself. 

“Let me help.”

“Huh? Oh no, it’s fine. I just need to shove them in storage.” 

“That’s alright, I’ll help. What d’you want me to do?” 

“Uh, Maybe unplug all the ports, and um, turn the lights on too, I guess. It’s gonna get dark if you don’t.”

Cleaning up was easier when those god awful studio lights weren’t overheating the entire hall, collecting cables and putting equipment back into their places. It was over before you knew it. 

“Is your car back from the workshop?” Mingyu yells from inside one of the side rooms collecting his stuff. 

“Not yet, I’m getting it back on the 15th. Ordered a cab.” 

“You’re going home from here, right?” He emerges from the room, arms in the middle of slipping into his jacket. “I’ll drive you.”

“No, it’s fine I have to meet Nayeon at uni and–”

“Even better, I was going there too. Come on, I just need to kill the lights.” 

You’re out of saviours, evident as you slide into his car, yet again with no choice. It’s meant to be a short drive, considering the studio is barely ten minutes away from where you need to be, yet it feels like an impromptu road trip with the way the roads seem to stretch. 

It’s significantly less awkward than last night, perhaps owed to him not being as inclined to make conversation, unlike last night. 

By the time he’s pulling up, you already have your bag in hand, a thank you frozen on your tongue as you register who it is that’s standing outside the library. You groan internally as you see Nayeon waiting for you, immersed in something on her phone. Praying she stays occupied, you rush your, “thanks, I’ll see you tomorrow,” as you hope she doesn’t see you slip out of the familiar car. 

She does notice. Looking up at the sound of yout door opening, she catches clear sight of you stepping out of the car, Mingyu in the driver’s seat. You can tell she’s subdued her reaction, but the eyebrows gives her away as they shoot up at the sight. Trudging up to her is a nightmare and a half, dreading the questions she’s going to ask as you hear Mingyu rev away.

“Are my eyes deceiving me?” she breathes out, eyes wide, mouth open in jest. 

“Quit it, I have work to get done.” You choose to lead her straight into the library where you know she won’t be able to ask you any more probing questions.

That doesn’t seem to sedate her though as she continues to whisper a million questions, watching you pull your stuff out.

“I had a shoot with him today, he offered to drop me off and I couldn’t say no!”

“Oh my gosh!” she exclaims a little too loud, owing a couple nasty surrounding looks her way, including yours. She continues quieter, pulling your laptop away from you so you’d pay more attention to her. “How’d it go? Did you pose all sexy for him, did he look nervous?”

“I did not pose sexy, I posed normally, because I have a conscience,” you snap, yanking your laptop back from her grip. 

She’s smiling like an idiot, unaffected by your annoyance. “Is he gonna drop you off after every shoot? Oh my god! Don’t you dare get your car from the garage, give it to Seokmin, or, or, tell them to keep it!” 

“Nayeon, shush!” It’s your turn to whisper shout at her gradually increasing volume, pushing her to quit leaning over the desks. 

“Okay, okay.” She sobers up.

“I’m supposed to be getting over him, why are you so happy about this? Indifference, remember? It was you who brought it up.”

“Yes, but you can’t tell me it doesn’t look, I don’t know, like, you know!”

Once she’s a little less giddy, you finally tell her about last night – leaving out the bit where he droppped you home for the sake of the library and its inhabitants. 

“I mean, I know we aplogised and everything, but I felt a little less… on fire around him. Other than those stupid studio lights, those were turning the place into a sauna. But I could meet his eyes without hyperventilating,” you explain, eyes downcast as you speak. 

“I imagine his eyes were covered with that camera anyway, but progress, I guess,” Nayeon comments.

“Maybe I needed to get mad at him to feel better, I don’t know. But it feels like I’m making progress for the first time.” 

“I told you this would be good for you, give it a couple more weeks and it’ll be like Mingyu never happened.” 

It takes a conscious attempt to not scoff. Like Mingyu never happened to your heart. That’s a heart you can’t recognise. 

The first time Seokmin had brought girls over was a day you couldn’t forget, no matter how hard you tried. 

You were padding down to the kitchen, still bleary eyed and pyjama clad from your nap, making a beeline for the fridge to get a glass of water. Your trip is cut short, however, when you realised the living room was not as empty as you expected. It’s a crowd (to your eleven year old self, anyway) of people your brother’s age. You catch a couple familiar faces, friends of your brother who visited often, Mingyu is part of the lumps on the couch with them. 

What stumped you, however, were the girls that were seated in between, eyes equally trained on you as everyone else in the room. 

“Oh, who’s this Seok?” one of the girls asked. 

“My little sister. D’you wanna say hi?” he asked you, neck craned to look at you. 

“Uh. Hi,” you whisper, gulping. 

There’s a chorus of hi’s that came bounding at you. You could feel the embarrassment creep up your entire body, feeling conscious for the first time in your life. They were staring at you. They were smiling, but you hated it. 

You weren’t thinking as you turned around to sprint back upstairs, not missing the tinkle of laughs coming from the living room. 

“Oh, she’s cute,” you had heard. That had you nearly starting to cry. 

You’d be lying if you said your little crush on Mingyu hadn’t started blossoming for a while at that point. Being younger meant you were constantly fighting to be seen, even more so when you’d do anything for Mingyu to look at you. Hogging your brother’s bean bag until you were kicked out, putting sparkly clips in your hair before you went to the kitchen, laughing especially loud when you knew he could hear.

And yet, despite everything, for the very first time, you hated that Mingyu was looking at you, watching you idle and awkward while he sat next to a bunch of prettier, older girls. 

That night was of many firsts, including the first time you had ever cried over Mingyu.

Mingyu claimed this was the last shoot, that he’d be done after this final set of shots. 

You’re having a hard time though, because he’s decided his studio for the day was gonna be at the top of a mountain at the asscrack of dawn. 

“We have fifteen minutes,” he announces. 

“To live?” You heave, crouching on the gravel to give your body a break. 

“Till sunrise,” he interjects, reversing to get to your crouched figure. You feel him grab hold of the straps of your bag, swinging it over his own shoulder. “Come on, just a little more.”

“You’ve been saying that for an hour.” You groan, picking yourself up off the path to resume your trudging. Mingyu stays next to you this time. 

“Did you pack your entire house in here, the fuck is this so heavy for,” he grunts. 

“You're the one asking for a bajillion outfit changes, I’m just doing what you asked.” 

“One change of clothes and a compact doesn’t weigh this much, are you disposing a body up here?” 

“Might be yours if I don't see that damn railing in a minute.” 

“I think you're hungry,” he huffs out. 

“I think I need to never agree to do this again.” 

“Salavation!” he yelps as he sees a vending machine in the distance, quite literally glowing (with its fluorescent lights). 

“I don’t need a water bottle, Mingyu, I need to lie down.” Your voice grows more gruff by the minute, legs nearly giving away. 

“No, the vending machine means…” He bounds up the last couple leaps to the glowing box with a burst of motivation. The slope turns flat at the horizon. “We’re here.” 

Nearly falling to your knees at the sight of the long awaited arrival point, you drop to a nearby bench and lay flat on the stiff wood. 

“How long till I need to look presentable? Because if it’s anything under thirty minutes, I’m tapping out.” You declare. 

“I can give you five minutes, take it or leave it.” He barely sits down as he speaks while already unzipping his camera bag. The thought of lifting your arms is excruciating, so you rest your tongue and bite back a whine. 

By the time you do find it within yourself to swing your legs back over the bench, the sky is shifting to a smoky navy, urging you to hurry up as you dry your sweat. You’re cringing as you press powder on your unclean face, but power through the final touches as you stretch while standing up straight.  

The first rays of sunlight are just coming through as Mingyu calibrates his lenses, trying to figure out the best shots in the limited time frame you have. You listen to him as he directs you where he wants you, contorting your face into something akin to faux serene. It’s near impossible when the frown has molded itself into your face after what you’ve put your body through today. 

“Think happy thoughts.” Mingyu calls out from behind his camera. 

“Oh, I’m thinking real happy thoughts. Like the ice cold shower I’m about to take when I get home. My clean bed that’s gonna be nice to me when I lay in it. The leftover pasta in the fridge. My moonpies.”

He has to bring his face away from the camera to throw his head back in a breathy laugh, smile as wide as it could go. It does things to you, but you ignore it. 

The summit isn’t entirely empty, noting a few people leaning against the railings, rendering it mostly quiet. All the more jarring becomes Mingyu’s phone as it blares into the silence, causing the both of you to jump at the sudden sound. 

He checks the caller ID only to silence it and slip it back into his pocket. 

You don’t get to ask who it was calling him so early in the morning, but get your answer when he immediately announces he’s done with his shots. The sun is higher up at this point, casting a more even orange glow across all the eye could see. 

You suppose he’s in a hurry to get home, seeing as he has someone waiting on him. “Should we leave then?” 

He swings the camera strap around his neck, forearms on the railing as he admires the view. “Give it a couple more minutes, I need to mentally prepare myself for the next hour.” 

It’s hard for you to deny that, so you let yourself place your head into your crossed arms over the railing, staring into the glow. It’s silent for a while as the rays hit your face, warming you more than you’d like. You don’t make any effort to move though, deciding to appreciate the view while it was here, doubting you’d ever make the trek up here again. Not willingly, at least. 

There’s a camera shutter that goes off next to you and you find Mingyu fidgeting with his camera as he tries to begin packing it up. You would help, but you’ve found yourself refraining from touching anything when it comes to his actual camera setup, opting to watch as he disassembles his lenses and pushes buttons to power off. 

By the time you're trudging down the path you’d come up from, it’s bright and sunny, rendering it warmer than before. Going down, however, is proving easier as you appreciate the reduced strain in your calves, letting the recent conversation take you to a smoother route. 

“When d’you think your gonna be done editing?” You ask at some point, the thought occurring to you that you’d only seen a couple pictures that he’d taken so far, oweing to his disapproval showing you all the raws before editing. 

“Kinda have to get them edited and annotated by the due date, so probably by the end of the month.” 

“D’you think I could get the ones you edit?” 

“Why? D’you wanna kickstart a portfolio?” he muses.

“I think it’s normal to ask for my pictures you took of me,” you grunt.

He laughs it off. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll send them over.” 

Mingyu doesn’t drop you off home this time, both of you slipping into your own cars at the base of the hiking trail, bidding your goodbyes. You’d gotten an earful from Nayeon for getting your car back from the garage so quickly, and while sitting in a car with him wasn’t so bad anymore, you choose to retain that distance regardless. This was work, You’re doing this because you have to, and the stupid extra credit that roped you into this in the first place.

Alas, as you start your engine, eyes cast towards Mingyu’s number plate right up front, you can’t help but feel…sad… remembering this was your last shoot. As emotionally vexing the experience was, you had grown to look forward to his discreet location pins and outfit plans, growing more comfortable with him by the meeting. 

It almost felt like you and Mingyu were friends. 

Your brother’s graduation was an ordeal to say the least. Your parents flying in was a plus, getting to see them at least once for the summer, even if it was just for the day. 

The night is wrapped up fairly quickly, a big dinner with yours and Mingyu’s family to congratulate the freed graduates from their academic shackles. It dials back when Mingyu announces he’s gonna take a summer course for now to keep himself busy, wanting to wait a little before job hunting. Seokmin seems to express the same, wanting some time off for himself before entering the corporate world.

It’s when you get home and your brother is sending you all the pictures of today that you note one that stands out. It was of you and Mingyu, an inevitable one as your parents took turns to make sure everybody got solo shots with everyone.

You’d applaud the enthusiasm, but it was particularly unfortunate for you when the camera was thrust into your hands as Mingyu and Jia posed for nearly fifty pictures. You wouldn’t mind usually, but it just felt like a little too much in the moment.

Despite everything, you find yourself clicking on the Save button on the picture where you’re smiling a little too wide right next to him, for the sake of yourself.

Summer break rolls around with no more hiccups, if you’d count finals as anything other than strenuous. You were happy, with a new job to keep you company for the next three months as you lament not being able to go home. 

Getting the job at the bookstore was easy, your shifts were reasonable and it didn’t pay half bad. You would’ve guessed they were desperate for a hire, but you appreciate the activity regardless. It’s not really hard work, you find out quickly. Manning the desk, shelving deposits and restocking supplies. Monotonous tasks yet ones that you find yourself slipping into quite easily.

After the last shoot at the mountain, it was basically radio silence from Mingyu. Not being able to catch him the rare chance he stopped by the house, both of you swamped with the end of semester throw up. You doubt he’d noticed, and you despair at the fact that you did, even if it was just a little. 

“Oh, great, you’re here!” The owner greets you as you walk into the store, all smiles. She was a sweet lady, nicer than any other boss you’d ever had. “Was just waiting for you so I could leave, my daughter has a play she’s putting on today!” 

“Oh, sorry to keep you!” You rush to set your bag down as she picks up her own things, coming around from the table to take her leave. “Hope the recital goes well, tell her I said good luck.”

“Will do.” She smiles before adding, “Oh and, somebody called an hour ago asking about our book bundles, he said he’d come in to check but he hasn’t yet. Thought I’d let you know in case he asks about the phone call.”

“Got it,” you confirm, waving as she walks out the door, “I’ll see you tomorrow!” 

Breathing out a sigh, you find yourself relatively free this afternoon, a slow weekday as you pick your current read out of your bag to get comfortable for the long shift. You’re nearly through the halfway point when you hear the first jingle of the day, the bells attached to the door making their familiar chime

“Good afternoon!” You look up to greet the customer, dog earring your book before standing up from your seat.

The person who’d walked in wasn’t just any customer, you soon realise as you recognise the familiar shag of hair. Mingyu was here. 

“Oh.” You can’t help but let it out when you register him, his own eyebrows shooting up at the sight of you behind the counter. Your next greeting comes out a little dumbly. “Hi.”

“Hey. What’re you doing here?” he asks, eyebrows furrowed as he takes you in. 

“Um,” you glance at your obvious name tag. “I work here.” 

“Oh, right, Seok mentioned you started working at a bookstore.” He throws his head back at the memory. “Hey, was it you over the phone earlier today? Didn’t sound like it.”

“Oh no, that was my boss, my shift started like an hour ago.” You confirm. 

“Ah, I see.” 

The silence is awkward for about five seconds before you jump into action. “You asked about a bundle over the phone?” 

“Right, um,” he pauses to fish his phone out his pocket, scrolling for something. “It’s Jia’s birthday coming up, and there’s this book series she’s been wanting. Here.”

You need to remind yourself to pat yourself on the back for not shaking as you received his phone, mind remaining in the moment. “Oh yeah, we have those. Let me grab ‘em for you.” 

He follows you through the columns of shelves as you navigate to find what he was looking for, stopping in front of the shelves. “There’s three of these, I can put them in a sleeve for you. Probably put a bow on it too if you want.” 

“Okay, perfect. Do you guys have LP’s too?” he asks.

“Uh, yeah. Hold on, let me put these up front.” 

You lead him to the back of the store. “The selection’s pretty small, the first shipment only came in like a month ago. I’m not sure if you’ll find what you want here.” 

“She’s been talking about getting more LP’s after she got a new record player. Hasn’t mentioned anything she wants though,” he voices, thumbing through the selection. 

“What does she listen to normally?” You ask before quickly adding, “So I can, maybe, help pick something she’d like.”

“Uh, older stuff? I should’ve snooped before coming, fuck.” He mumbles, thinking hard. “She barely plays it when I’m around but most of her LP’s are like Frank Sinatra and…Duran Duran was it?”  

“Hm…” You hum as you flick through the dated section of the stockpile, “How’s this?’

He’s taking a look at the record you’ve handed him, scanning the tracklists on the back. “I’ll get this, I guess. I can always bring her around to get more that she likes.” 

“D’you want a bow on this?” You ask, referring to the books you’re putting into the set sleeve, “You can pick your colour.”

He’s quick to pick the lilac ribbon, watching you as you tape it prettily on the box. You’re trying to curl the ribbon at the ends when he tries to make conversation. 

“When does your shift end?” 

If the man wasn’t quite literally buying a birthday present for his girlfriend (or if you had any memory of your own birthday), you’d think he was trying to hit on you. But he’s not. You know that. 

“Ten-ish. Closing’s on me so I could technically leave an hour early and no one would know.” You snort.

“Everyday?” he asks incredulously. 

“Minus weekends, the family takes care of that. They just need someone for afternoons and evenings on the weekdays. It’s not like I’m taking summer classes or anything, and it’s easy work.” 

“Well, you’ll be pleased to find out you’ll most likely be available on the 27th of August, then.” He sing songs as he fishes his phone out to pay, a cheeky air in his expression.

You blink at him in confusion, waiting for him to explain. “Was I supposed to get that?”

He pushes his shoulders back, content expression on his face as he continues. “There’s a cultural art exhibition in two months, and I, have just found out I’ve been shortlisted for a spot.” 

“A spot? Like to display your photos?!” You drop the card machine with a thud.

“Your photos. Prof liked the project so much she submitted some of ‘em as entries. It was super short notice, but they liked them, I guess.” His grin is wide, one that you find impossible to not reciprocate. “I just need you to sign a consent form and I’ll be all set to start prepping.” 

“That’s insane, Mingyu, congratulations!” You exclaim, genuinely excited. “Are you gonna be using the same pictures?”

“Yup, I just need to fix the editing with my prof before they go up. You’re the first to find out, I just got out of the meeting.” 

There’s a mix of hesitation before you utter your next proposal, a split second of bewilderment at what you were about to suggest. “Come over tonight, we can celebrate with Seok. Bring Jia along too, we can celebrate an early birthday.” 

“I’ll see, she might be taking a bus home tonight for the weekend, might have to bother you by myself.”

The ache in your cheeks didn’t stop until well after Mingyu had left with his cargo, the elated feeling remaining for even longer after the fact. There was a point where it took you convincing to rid yourself of another intrusive, uneasy feeling, like you were taking a step back by being happy at his announcement. 

It was, however, safe to call Mingyu a friend. Safe to be happy for him. Safe to have your heart swell at his achievement, having watched him work hard for it.

It was safe to feel.

This was horrible. 

Truly. 

You were trying to ignore it, the strange thumping noises coming from under your car, like it would go away if you pretended to not hear. There was a sliver of hope for you, barely five minutes away from home that you’d make it before your tire decided it had enough of trying to grab your attention. 

But then it started screeching, and you had to stop before you caused a road fire.

“Tire? Didn’t you get them changed like last month?” Seokmin asks over the phone.

“Didn’t know new tires were immune to industrial blades, too. Are you gonna tell me I got ripped off?” 

“Mingyu has a scissor jack, I’ll tell him to come to you.”

“Wait! You have a scissor jack, too! Why can’t you come?” You sputter at the sound, glancing at the 21:42 on the dial. 

“He has my scissor jack, he’ll change it for you.” He grits back. “Besides, I’m not letting this face pack go to waste I just put it on.” 

“Seok!” 

“Stay in the car, lock the doors till he gets there.” He grounds.

“Seokmin!” 

Beep. 

The bastard hung up. 

“Ugh!” you break from a tightened jaw, slamming the car door shut with passion as you huff into your seat, waiting for Mingyu. 

Was Mingyu busy at 10:30 PM on a weekday? He was, actually.

He’d scrambled to finish up the last of his meeting with his professor, wrapped up in planning for the exhibition despite the two month time frame he’d been given. Exhibitions were a lot of paperwork, as he was finding out as he sweet talks Jia over the phone, promising to be with her within the next five minutes. Well, ten maybe, he has to grab butter from the store.

She sits on the kitchen counter as Mingyu makes her favourite. A strenuous task, but he’s willing to go through the double frying to make up for the time he’s lost. It’s not until he’s doing the post dinner dishes while Jia’s picking a movie in the living room that he’s met with another dilemma to handle. 

He’s deflating as he stands, phone to ear as he listens to Seokmin about your situation. Glancing at the near 10:30 PM hand on the clock, he finds it difficult to refuse, especially when he’s told you’re alone and stranded on a highway. He thinks to Jia in the living room as he tells Seokmin he’s leaving the house to get to you.

He’d only be gone for barely 20 minutes. He’s changed plenty of tires, this should be quick and easy. 

Slipping into the living room is easy, wrapping his arms around Jia from behind is even easier. It’s when he has to open his mouth that he begins to falter. Twenty minutes, he reminds himself.

“I have two I’ve heard are really good, you can pick which one we watch first,” she voices as she fluffs the pillows on the couch, ready to tuck in for the rest of the night. 

“Babe?” 

She spins around in his arms, coming up to fluff his flat hair too. “Hm?” 

“Seok just called…”

Her face falls as he talks despite his best attempts to assure her he won’t be long. 

“Twenty minutes?” she parrots, wanting his word. 

“Fifteen.” 

Whether Mingyu would keep his word is something he’d find out, but you had kept your word to Seokmin, staying in the car, doors locked till you saw Mingyu’s car pull up behind you in the rearview. The wretched scissor jack that’s caused all of this sits in his own boot as he yanks it out to bring it over to your car, where you stand arms crossed, face dejected. 

“Were you waiting long?” He asks as he immediately crouches to fit the jack where he wants it. 

“No, not really,” you reply. “I’m sorry you had to come all the way out here, if only Seok remembered to take the stupid scissor jack–”

“No, no, it’s okay. I wasn’t doing anything.” Lies. But you already sounded apologetic and he didn’t wanna hear you apologize any further.  

“No, it’s not okay. The idiot’s relaxing with a stupid face mask on while you have to come out here and change a fucking tire, God, you have class tomorrow too, don’t you?” 

“Not until the afternoon, I’m in the clear.” He springs up from his crouched position, pulling the jack with him. “Open the boot.” 

Placing the scissor jack in your boot, he continues, a little breathless. “There, I’ll tell Seokmin I left it in your car. Or, you could do that.” 

“Thanks, Mingyu. Really.” 

He does nothing but flash a smile, doing his best to convince you you weren’t an inconvenience before having to see your apologetic face again. “Alright, I wanna see you drive off before I leave, go on.” 

By the time Mingyu’s slamming the door of the house shut, it’s eighteen minutes on the dot. Jia doesn’t say much, excited to have him back in her arms. 

“Wait!” he suddenly yelps, once he’s tucked in with her. 

“What now?” she groans. 

Mingyu’s bounding back to his bedroom, emerging a few moments later with a dark paper bag. He goes back to sit next to her on the couch, sliding the bag and its contents towards her.

“Here. We’re not gonna be together for your birthday, might as well give you your present the night before you leave.” His eyes are glinting, hopeful.

Jia expresses her thank you’s commenting on the ribbon and his LP choice, grinning widely.

Your name comes tumbling out of Mingyu’s mouth before he can stop himself. “She helped me pick it out!” 

“You…took her with you?” She asks after a moment.

“She worked at the store! I didn’t know till I went there either.” Mingyu’s voice grows increasingly enthusiastic, seemingly unaware that his girlfriend was growing slightly irritated. “I’ll take you there when you get back, the selection’s small but she’ll probably help you pick out something you’d like. I only had to give her like two names before she figured it out.”

“Oh, that’s nice,” she comments, tight smile on her lips as she collects the book sleeve and the LP, placing them back into the bag and leaving them on the floor next to her.

Mingyu is blissfully unaware of the fuel he’s added to growing embers, munching away on his popcorn, eyes trained on the TV and its stimulating colours. 

“I was talking to Jihyo the other day, super random but it came up while we were talking about you,” Jia starts experimentally. 

“Huh?” He has her attention. And when she mentions your name, the part of him that’s always wondered when she’d bring it up comes out of dormancy. 

“She said she…I don’t know, she said she liked you at some point, Like a lot, and for a while.” Jia sounds unsure, like she didn’t know if it was a good idea to bring you up. 

Mingyu sighs as he rears himself for the inevitable conversation. “It’s—well, it was—just puppy love. I was around all the time and I guess she latched, I don’t know.”

Jia pauses, eyes remanging trained on the movie. “Does it make you uncomfy? That she liked you? Maybe she still does.” 

“It doesn’t matter, does it? I’m around Seok which means I’m sometimes around her by default. Can’t help it. I mean, the photography thing kinda just happened but, I don’t really care. And she seems over it.” 

Mingyu is rambling. He can feel it. Which is why he tries to end the conversation right there, tone nonchalant as he hopes the topic breezes past. 

It doesn’t. 

“You seemed pretty adamant in leaving, though.”

“Huh?”

“When she called just now.”

“Seok called, I had his scissor jack!”

“Why couldn’t he have grabbed it for you and helped his sister himself? He has a car too.”  Jia’s paused the movie at this point, moving away from his arm she was leaning on, shifting to look at him fully. 

“It would’ve taken him forever, she was alone in the middle of a highway at nearly eleven, you wanted me to leave her there?” Mingyu finds the conversation ridiculous, and it shows in the irritation that rises in his own voice. 

“Mingyu, you can’t be upset with me right now,” she breathes out exasperated. 

“I’m not? I get that you’re upset, I haven’t been around as much but you also know what this exhibition means to me. I need to put everything I have into this and it’s only for a couple months–”

“Mingyu, it’s not just the exhibition!” 

“Jia, I can’t know if you don’t tell me what’s really bothering you, talk to me.” Mingyu’s begging at this point, wondering how it’s come to this in the first place. 

“You can’t expect me to be okay with you going around wherever, whenever, when I know what kind of lifestyle you’ve come out of not even six months ago!” 

Mingyu had come a long way from his galvanizing tendencies, doing absolutely everything he could to convince Jia he was serious about her. Unfortunately, this was not the first time his past had been brought up; in an argument or in a light hearted setting, and he wasn’t particularly fond of it. 

“Are we in six months ago? Are you saying I’ve done nothing substantial for you to think I’m still fucking around? Either give me an instance or figure out what the real issue is!” 

There’s a plaster of suffocation in the room, neither soul speaking a word. Until Jia finally speaks. “I wanna go home.”

It didn’t matter to Mingyu if she was expecting him to grovel, to ask her to stay and talk about this further. It was clear she wasn’t about to talk about anything pertinent at all, and definitely not tonight. He was tired, and frankly wanted to be alone right now.

“Fine.” 

Silence penetrates all of his air for the entire car ride up until he’s entering his apartment for the third time that day. Not bothering to clean up the living room, he thinks he does himself a service so as to not be reminded of the past couple hours. He’s casting the place in complete darkness before moving to his room. Might as well get some work done. 

There’s a conscious effort to not start slamming things, he succeeds mostly, his graphic tablet receiving the short end of the stick. Turning on his monitor, he’s met with his ongoing project still brought up on the screen.

It’s a picture of you. One he took in a greenhouse off the outskirts of the city, something you complained about extensively as the heat ruined both your mood and your hair. You were smiling regardless; a wide, happy smile as you looked into the camera, petunia’s and dahlia’s framing an illusion around your figure.

Mingyu feels the tension in his muscles begin to relax, his breathing evening out after what felt like hours. He becomes almost excited to pick up his stylus and work on the photo, the set up allowing him to dive right in. There was barely any work left, moving on as he finishes the photo and saves it. 

It isn’t until he happens to click on the the last folder, the one where you both caught the sunrise after a strenuous hike. He can’t help but break into a hint of a smile at the memory of your broken figure at the pathway, cursing him for bringing you here so early in the morning. The pictures had come out good, especially when Mingyu opens a particular photo at the bottom of the folder, an extra from his initial round of editing for his actual project. 

It’s of you (of course) with your chin tucked into your arms as you gaze at the scene from up above, beyond the railing. The sun is up higher at that point, but the cast remains as the top half of your face that wasn’t tucked in your arms is lit in an orange glow, eyes glistening like stars during the day, wide and beautiful. 

Mingyu remembers the shot. It was an accident.

In an attempt to fiddle with the settings to turn off the camera, he ended up snapping a picture instead. The distinct click was noticed, never bothering to check what came out of it when he stuffed his camera back into his bag, nor when he sifted through his SD card. 

It was like he was seeing the picture in a new light, and the potential it had to become something worth ogling at. He wonders what had come over him when he had placed the photo as a secondary option without another thought, lamenting at what could’ve been his actual final piece. 

He stares and stares, attempting to draw maps of color rendering in his mind, yet all that comes up is his eyes zeroing in on your own. How they glisten. How they sparkle.

Part 2

[viceroywrites]

deja vu - part 2

planning out your road trip through the pacific northwest, you find yourself inexplicably drawn to the town of gravity falls.

little did you know that this town held more memories than you could have possibly imagined.

too bad you didn't remember any of them.

stan x fem!reader/ford x fem!reader

choose your own ending / contains fluff and angst (w/ happy ending)

(if you would like a link to the playlist i created for this series, lmk!)

part one | part three

tag list: @awitchersbard / @theilluminatidragonqueen / @jazzypop-op/ @maryclanders/ @chaimshelii/@starship606/ @swimmingrascalbatdragon / @stanfordsbaby / @gxstiess / @skrunkle11 / @valinbean / @funkyenby / @therealgoofygoober69 / @theblueraven / @adrian920155 / @im-kinda-bored / @miarabanana / @uwauiss / @leo4242564 / @doggosnoodles12 / @soupieoopieisloopie / @zhungxi / @bandaids-n-porcelain / @marvelous-maniac / @opossumclown

It was a tense interaction following your question. 

Ford’s eyebrows raised in alarm and he carefully approached you, “Of course, we’ve met before, it’s me, Stanford.”

You pause, glancing between Stanley and his twin before replying hesitantly, “Sorry, the name doesn’t ring a bell. I just learned your name a few seconds ago from your brother.”

Ford’s lips narrow into a thin line, vexation written all over his face, “I know we parted ways on less than ideal terms, Y/N, but there’s no reason to pretend like you don’t recognize me.”

Your eyebrow raised at Ford’s firm stance, crossing your arms, “I’m sorry to say but I truly don’t. Maybe you have me mistaken for someone else perhaps?” You can’t help but get defensive, feeling accused that you were blowing off this complete stranger.

“Oh, I’m not mistaken. I know you very well, Y/N. I know that you got your Masters in Geology at Backupsmore. I know that ammolite is your favorite gemstone. I know that you learned hamboning from Fiddleford just to get on my nerves.” Ford counters you with facts, his own stubbornness coming through as you stare each other down.

Your eyes widen at the amount of detail Ford seems to know about you, “How do you know all these things about me? How do you know Fiddleford? Did you help him with his research out here?”

Ford sighs heavily, “I know I messed up back then and I know you must hate me but can you please drop this childish charade?” His low voice raises slightly in volume as his frustration mounts as he finally snaps at you. 

“Ford!” Stan cuts in between the two of you, catching both of you off guard, “Lay off her… I genuinely think she doesn’t… remember.” He sighs, putting the pieces together surprisingly quickly compared to his brother. He grabs his twin by the arm, pulling him off to the side, “Give us a second, we’ll be right back.” Stan says to you, giving you an apologetic stare.

You nod slowly as you decide to take a seat on the steps, watching as the sun slowly begins to set in the horizon. This new information perplexes you as you try to wrack your brain if Fiddleford had ever mentioned working with someone during his time in Gravity Falls. 

Meanwhile, the Pines twins walk off into the distance, just out of ear shot. “So who is she?” Stan questions, needing answers from his brother before he can present his finding. Ford bristles at  the question, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he looks off into the distance before answering, “Remember when we were out at sea commiserating on past romances… and I told you how I had met someone during my time in college but she left after I had gotten too deep into my involvement with Bill.”

“Yeah, vaguely, I thought you were just making that up to try and relate to my stories about my ex-wives. You never were smooth with the ladies.” Stan admits with a shrug to which Ford rolls his eyes at. “Well, that’s her. The age old cliche of the one that got away.” Ford summarizes, “But she was never this petty before. I know I hurt her immensely but…”

“She’s not being petty, poindexter. Haven’t you figured it out yet?” Stan sighs, running a hand over his face in exasperation. Ford stares back blankly at him, unsure how to respond. “God, you’re supposed to be the smart one here. Remember your old friend McGucket’s invention? You know the one that can literally erase memories? The one that erased all my memories?” Stan spells it out for his brother.

It all clicks in Ford’s head, “You don’t think… Fiddleford wiped her memory, do you?” 

“Ding, ding, we got a winner!” Stan says sardonically, “Took ya long enough.”

“Why would he do that? I need to get to the bottom of this, Stanley…” Ford looks over his brother’s shoulder, staring at you. Despite the time that has passed, you look just as vibrant as he remembered you, your features highlighted in the orange glow of the sunset. 

Stan notices the longing look on his brother’s face and places a hand on his shoulder, “You know she’s supposed to head out tomorrow morning? Got a whole road trip planned ahead.”

“Well, let’s see if she’d at least be willing to stick around to talk to Fiddleford.” Ford says with steely determination as he begins to walk back towards you, Stan following at his heels.

You look up as the pair walk up to you, able to see them side by side. There were distinct differences in terms of style but they were nearly identical, only just now picking up the cleft in Stanford’s chin and their different glasses. 

Ford mulls over his choice of words. Despite being the more logical twin, Ford had to admit he was perhaps just as stubborn as his brother. “My apologies for my directness. I know you may not remember me, but please trust me when I say that we have an extensive history together. What if we were to visit Fiddleford tomorrow to perhaps quell your doubts and clarify some things?” He offers, hoping in the back of his mind that you’ll say yes.

You pause at the offer, thinking it through. You had the urge to decline, still on the defense. After all, this man pretty much accused you of acting like a child when you didn’t recognize him.

However, you did wish to see Fiddleford again, so curious about what happened to him after all these years. 

“Alright, I’ll stay another day in Gravity Falls to see Fiddleford. But I want to know a little bit more about you.” Your eyes narrow in on Ford. Stan clears his throat, very aware of the tension between the two of you. “Well, I’m gonna go take care of… the broken thing inside...” He grumbles out the last part, making an awkward escape as he walks past you up the steps before pausing at the door to address you, “Come back inside whenever you and Sixer are done talking, I’ll clear out one of the rooms so you can stay for the night.”

Before you can protest, Stan closes the screen door behind him, giving you and Ford some privacy.

“So you had some questions for me?” Ford sighs, deciding to take a seat next to you. It felt so strange to be so close to you physically after all this time yet so distant due to your loss of memories, wishing that he could pull you into a tight embrace and apologize for everything that happened in the past. 

“Well, I’m assuming if you know Fiddleford and somehow know that I got my Masters in Geology that you went to Backupsmore as well.” You start there, knowing the common thread that connects the two of you is the university you all attended, “That’s correct, not my first choice obviously.” Ford replies with a nod.

“Is it anyone’s first choice?” You comment which pulls a chuckle from Ford who shakes his head. “Very true, I know it wasn’t either of ours. Fiddleford was just elated to be the first in his family to even go.”

“So what did you major in?” You ask with a tilt of your head, “And how did you meet Fiddleford?”

“What didn’t I major in is the better question. I technically have 12 PhDs but my main focuses were Physics and Molecular Biology.”  Ford admitted with a sense of pride, your jaw almost dropping at this information. ”As for how I met Fiddleford, I had proposed a theory in class one time that immediately got shot down by my professor. But Fiddleford shared my passion for pushing boundaries of existing theories and knowledge and we spent the whole night trying to prove it had validity.” Ford said, smiling at that particular memory. 

You note the admiration in Ford’s voice as he speaks of Fiddleford, knowing that their relationship must be close. “I’m so confused… how do I not remember you if you and Fiddleford have such a close relationship?” You sigh, second guessing your own memories at this point. All this information felt like it made sense logically but it was difficult to suspend your disbelief. You hesitate to ask the question, “How... did we meet?”

Ford pauses, staring out into the forest, unable to meet your gaze as he recounts your first meeting. It seems so distant but it was a simple time before life got complicated. 

Before he made your lives complicated. 

Before he can reply, you cut him off, seeing the pained look in his eyes and realizing you may have gone too far. Whoever you were to him, something must have happened between the two of you that led to this reaction. “Actually, don’t answer that… It's getting late and I know we’ll have all of tomorrow to go over this with Fiddleford.” 

“Right… we should probably call it for the evening.” Ford lets out a sigh of relief, getting up from his spot on the steps. He offers his hand, your eyes flicking towards it and noting the six fingers that were facing towards you. Realizing what you’re staring at, he is about to withdraw his hand, an embarrassed flush to his cheeks, but you take it, your warm fingers wrapping around his palm, as you stand up. 

“Are you heading inside?” You ask, still holding into his hand. He realizes you have yet to let go and basks in the moment, fighting the urge to intertwine his fingers with yours. “I’m going to stay out here for a bit longer. I should probably fix that invention that I was working on before…” Ford admits, almost waiting for you to scold him like you would in the past.

But you don’t.

Instead, you nod in understanding, squeezing Ford’s hand one final time before letting go. “Alright, I’m gonna head inside and see where I’m sleeping for the night…” You begin to walk towards the doorway before pausing at the door. 

“Hey… I’m sorry I don’t remember you. I really hope tomorrow something sparks my memory.” You say, “Good night, Stanford.” You disappear behind the doorway, not waiting for him to respond.

Ford stares as he watches your frame retreat from behind the door, “Good night, Y/N… my dear.” The old pet name feeling heavy on his tongue but he can’t help but let it out.

-

As you stare up at the ceiling, you wonder how you even ended up in a storage room inside a tourist trap, laying on an air mattress.

Your trip - at least for the next day or so - is derailed. You’re thankful that Stan had offered to let you stay in the Mystery Shack as you were planning on sleeping in your car underneath the stars, drained from today’s turns of events and too tired to drive into town to try and find some sort of accommodation.

Yet your trip isn’t even the most pressing thing on your mind.

Who is Stanford Pines?

Your eyes shut tightly, trying to mull over the potential possibilities of how you might know this man who vehemently claims to know you. You knew you were getting older but there’s no way your memory was this shot, especially considering the fact that Ford had shared that he and Fiddleford were close friends and went to Backupsmore.

Your mind continued to draw blanks, unable to pinpoint a single memory that involved him.

Yet something about him was so familiar. Maybe that’s why a sense of deja vu had hit you the moment you met his brother and walked through the Mystery Shack.

Finally, fatigue hits you and you are able to fall asleep, slipping into a new dream.

You find yourself back at Backupsmore, walking through the quad and making your way to the library. The campus is decorated in hues of orange and yellow, autumn leaves scattered across the grass. Your boots crunching against the leaves as you weave through the bodies that mill around to and from class.

A gust of wind hits your face, wincing as the harshness against your skin as you had forgotten to bring a scarf on your trek. You finally make it to the library, opening the heavy doors to be greeted to the warmth and scent of old paperback books. 

You walk past the front desk, making your way directly to the back of the library to the stacks. You pass the mostly empty study carrels one by one, looking for someone specific.

You get to the very end of what seemed like a never ending maze and see a table tucked into the corner, surrounded by bookshelves. A broad-shouldered figure, wearing a sweater vest, sits facing away from you, their head buried in the pile of books around them. 

Your lips begin to move, calling out a name to address the person before you.

Stanford.

You wake up in a startle, your heartbeat pounding in your ears as you feel a sudden pressure on your chest. Your eyes adjust to the sight in front of you, seeing a blur of pink, thinking you’re still dreaming. Rubbing your eyes vigorously, you realize there’s a pig sniffing your face in curiosity.

“God, what have I gotten myself into?” You groan out groggily, laying back in defeat as Waddles begins to lick your cheek.

-

Meanwhile in the kitchen, Ford sits awkwardly in front of an audience of his great nephew and niece who are gaping at him in awe, just having explained the whole situation to them as they questioned who’s car was parked in the front of the Mystery Shack.

Stan sips from a mug that spells ‘World’s Greatest Grunkle’ that Mabel made him, a slightly amused grin spreading across his face. The look on their faces was priceless, he thinks to himself, wishing he could take a photo of it. Though, he was in their shoes just last night, still processing that his poindexter brother actually landed someone after all those years of fearing girls and that she somehow ended up stranded on the side of the road just as he was driving back home.

He was just grateful though that his brother wasn’t around for the parts where he was clearly smooth talking to you, unaware that you were his twin’s ex-lover.

“Oh my god, Grunkle Ford, this is amazing!” Mabel exclaims, her eyes sparkling with excitement and mischief, “See, I’ve been trying to figure who the ideal candidate would be to match you with but I couldn’t think of anyone in Gravity Falls. Maybe you two can rekindle your romance! We just need to do what we did with Grunkle Stan and show her things to remind her of your time together!” 

“Or maybe her memories are stored where the Society of the Blind Eye held Old Man McGucket’s memories? There were a ton of Gravity Falls citizens’ names in there, I’m sure she’s somewhere in that pile.” Dipper offers as a suggestion, more invested in understanding how to restore memory loss from the Memory Gun than Mabel’s romantic plans for her uncle. 

Though he had to admit that there was a sliver of him that was rooting for his Grunkle Ford in the romance department.

“Those are excellent suggestions, kids. I’m hoping perhaps talking to Fiddleford today will be one of the first steps into getting her memory back. There is one issue though with your suggestion, Mabel.” Ford admits, slightly crestfallen, “I don’t really have anything left from our time we were together. When she left, she took all remnants of her, photos of us together, letters she wrote to me. What I do have left I’m not sure if it will be effective in bringing those memories back.”

“What is it, Grunkle Ford? Maybe we can still use it, you never know if you don’t try!” Mabel said in reassurance.

Ford hesitated, feeling Dipper, Mabel and Stan’s eyes trained on him, waiting for a response. 

Thankfully, your presence saved him in the nick of time, clearing your throat awkwardly. This catches everyone’s attention, Dipper and Mabel’s head whipping around. You stand in the entrance to the kitchen, still clad in your pajamas and your hair tousled from sleep, holding Waddles in your arms.

“Sorry if I’m interrupting, I just wanted to make sure this pig is supposed to be in here. He somehow got into my room.” You say, noticing how Waddles squirms now in your arms as he sees Mabel. You put him down and watch him scurry to Mabel who eagerly scoops him into her arms, nuzzling his pink cheek. 

“You’re all good, we were just having breakfast. Need a cup of coffee?” Stan says nonchalantly, grabbing the coffee pot that was by his elbow. You nod eagerly, walking towards him and taking the mug that he poured you. “These are me and Ford’s grandniece and nephew, by the way, since you didn’t get to meet them last night. They’re staying here for the summer.” Stan gestures to the two twins that are staring at you like you had a second head.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Mabel! Sorry about Waddles, he kinda wanders around the house if I’m not awake yet.” The energetic brunette introduces herself. “No need to apologize, he was very sweet. If anything, he got me out of bed to get my day started. I’m Y/N, by the way.” You say with a relaxed smile.

“I’m Dipper, nice to meet you. Grunkle Stan was just telling us how you ended up staying here.” The more relaxed male counterpart to Mabel chimed in, trying to move the conversation away from the topic discussed prior to you entering the room. Ford let out a slight sigh of relief, grateful that he was no longer in the hot seat.

“Well, your Grunkle Stan saved me from having to spend a pretty penny on a tow truck and a place to stay so I’m very grateful for that.” You chuckle, getting used to the term ‘Grunkle’.

“Sooo, Y/N, mind if I do a little Q&A with you? Since you’ll be staying here, I wanna get to know you better!” Mabel said eagerly, mentally mapping out her questions already. You blink owlishly before your eyes flick between Stan and Ford in amusement, “Fire away, Mabel. Though I hope your Grunkles didn’t put you up to this as a little payback for when I interrogated them yesterday?”

“She questioned you too?” Ford says in surprise to his brother who scratches chin mindlessly. “A little bit after finishing up the tour I gave her of the Mystery Shack. This one’s ruthless, no wonder she works for the government!” Stan taunts, causing you to roll your eyes. 

“Wait, you work for the government?” Dipper asks, his eyes slightly narrowing in skepticism. You blink at his almost defensive reaction before elbowing Stan in the side who almost chokes on his coffee, “I literally asked you three questions. Don’t listen to him, I work for the National Parks, not the CIA.” 

Dipper visibly relaxes and Mabel’s eyes linger on where you elbowed Grunkle Stan, picking up on how relaxed you seemed around him compared to Grunkle Ford. In fact, you had barely acknowledged Ford this morning, standing by the counter next to Stan. Mabel decides to take matters into her own hands, playing matchmaker as she gets up from her chair. 

“Well that answers one of my questions. By the way, take a seat, Y/N! You’re our guest and I’m finished with my pancakes!” She walks over to you, pulling you by the hand as you plop onto the chair that is coincidentally right next to Ford. “Thanks Mabel..” You roll with the situation before looking over at Ford who stares at you with what seems to be pride.

“You really made it to the National Parks, huh? That was your dream since freshman year…” Ford says though immediately regrets it as you stare back at him in surprise. “Yeah.. I did. No one really knew about that.. Not even Fiddleford.” You reply, running your thumb over the print on the mug bashfully. “Well, um... I’m really happy for you. I know you must have worked hard to get there.” Ford offers, not sure how else to respond.

You smile warmly, taking a sip from your coffee, “Thanks, I appreciate it. It means a lot coming from someone with 12 PhDs.” You tease at the end to which Ford’s cheeks redden in embarrassment and flattery.

Mabel hops up on the counter next to her Grunkle Stan who mutters under his breath, “Smooth move, kid.” 

You turn to look back at Mabel, “Any more questions for me?” 

Mabel taps her chin, deep in thought. Her eyes flicker over to great-uncle Ford who continues to stare at you in admiration. She snaps her fingers, putting her match-making skills to use once again, “What would you say is your type in a partner?”

“Mabel! What kinda question is that?” Dipper groans, shoveling a spoonful of cereal into his mouth.

“Wow, we’re getting to the real hard-hitting questions.” You say in amusement, slightly caught off guard but amused. You ponder the answer yourself, wondering if the kids would understand what you mean by this.

“Well, does your generation know what a silver fox is?” You ask with a sheepish grin and a flush to your cheeks, rubbing the back of your neck.

Your answer causes a chain reaction of different responses.

Mabel squeals with an eager nod, looking over hopefully at her Grunkle Ford.

Dipper and Stan both end up spitting out their milk and coffee respectively.

Ford sits at the table, blinking in confusion.

“What’s a silver fox? Is that a new type of species?”

-

After cleaning up the mess that Stan and Dipper had made, you finally start getting ready to head out with Ford to visit your old friend. You stand in front of the bathroom mirror, fixing your outfit before reaching to grab the hairbrush Mabel graciously lets you borrow after you realize that you had forgotten yours in the car.

Stan walks down the stairs, having changed out of his white tank-top and pajama pants into clothes more suitable for going out. He pauses at the open bathroom door, leaning against the door frame, “Hey, while you and Poindexter catch up with McGucket, I’m gonna swing into town later tonight to get you a replacement battery for your car.”

Placing the brush down, you address Stan, “You sure? I can always ask Ford if we could stop by the auto shop on the way back to pick it up.”

Stan scoffs, “Please, my brother’s smart and knows a ton about science-y stuff but he’s hopeless when it comes to cars. Besides, I know a guy, I’ll get you a discount.”

“Alright.. Just let me know how much I owe you, I’m for sure paying you back.” You say hesitantly as you make your way towards the door. Stan steps aside to let you through, “Yeah, yeah,” he says dismissively.

Technically, that guy was Bud Gleeful and that discount was five-fingered but you didn’t have to know that.

“You found your way around the Mystery Shack pretty easily, by the way. Didn’t even have to show you where the bathroom was, I sometimes have a hard time finding it and I’ve lived here for over 30 years.” Stan comments. You realize that even this morning, you walked directly to the kitchen, almost like your feet knew where to go through pure muscle memory.

“Are you ready, Y/N?” Ford’s deep voice calls out, walking down the hallway to approach you and Stan. 

“Yeah, as ready as I’ll ever be, I guess.” You say, slightly nervous to see Fiddleford again. What if he didn’t want to see you? What if he didn’t even remember you just like you couldn’t remember Ford?

Ford could see the furrow in your brow, a sign he had picked up through the years you had been together that you were overthinking. He hesitates for a second but places a hand on your arm, snapping you out of your rumination. “He’ll be elated to see you, Y/N. Though to give you a fair warning, he looks a lot different than how he did during our college days.” He says reassuringly.

You nod, smiling up at him, your nerves calmed down for now. “Thanks, Ford. I’m gonna go grab my bag and I’ll meet you outside.” You make your way back down the hallway, leaving the twins by themselves.

“Think she might already be starting to getting some of her memories back just by being here…” Stan muttered, following his brother outside. Ford’s eyebrow raises in confusion, “What makes you say that, Stanley?”

“She knows how to get around the house without even thinking about it. I know I gave her a tour but that was just the showroom and the gift shop.” Stan shares his observation, holding the door open for Ford as they step out into the front yard where Stan’s car is parked.

“Fascinating… maybe her memories may come back more organically than we had thought.” Ford muses before placing his hand out, “The keys, Stanley?”

Stan sighs, rummaging through his jacket before placing his keys in his brother’s hand, “You know I could have just driven you two up to the mansion but someone insisted I give you two alone time to bond.”

Ford squeezes the keys in his hand before smiling at his brother, “I should probably say thank you to Mabel then… and thanks Stanley for bringing her here.”

Stan punches his twin in the arm affectionately, “Whatever, I just better not see a scratch on El Diablo when you two get back.” Ford winces but grins, rubbing the spot on his arm.

Right on cue, you close the creaky door behind you, bag slung over your shoulder as you walk over to the pair, “Alright, I’m ready to go! Sorry, Mabel stopped me on the way out to ask my opinion on what sweater she should wear to the roller rink. Apparently, none of you guys have the taste to give her a valid opinion.” You chuckle.

“Roller rink? I swear these kids turn thirteen and think they can just go around without telling their Grunkle where they’re going.” Stan sighs in exasperation, calling out Mabel’s name as he walks back inside. You follow Ford to the car, sliding into the passenger side. “Sorry if my driving is a bit rusty, Stanley’s usually the one that drives us around when we’re in Oregon for the summer.” Ford apologizes in advance, pulling out of Mystery Shack and onto the open road.

“I mean as long we come out unscathed, I’m not complaining.” You say nonchalantly, taking in the sight of the massive trees that tower over the two way road in front of you. 

The two of you sit in silence for a bit, neither one of you knowing how to spark conversation. There lingered an unspoken heaviness, mostly due in part the intensity of your exchange the previous night. Ford desperately wanted to talk to you and yet he was drawing a blank on what to even talk about. 

As you make your way up the winding hills, Ford finally speaks up, deciding to ask you more about your work, “So you work for the National Parks? Are you a research scientist or did you go the natural resource conservation route?” He asks, remembering how you were torn between pursuing further research or honing in on your love of preserving nature.

“You’re pretty well-informed about the geoscience field. I just tell most people I look at rocks all day.” You admit, toying with the necklace that you had tucked into your shirt, “I started off in research but I realized that most of my time was spent in labs and studying specimens rather than actually out in the field. I love the parks so much, I was itching to get back out there so I switched to conservation.” 

“Makes sense, just studying concepts and theories in a controlled environment isn’t nearly as fun as getting hands-on experience.” Ford chuckles. His eyes flick over to see your fingers rolling around the vibrant orange gemstone attached to your necklace, almost choking on his spit. Your eyes meet his and your eyebrow raises as Ford’s expression is like he’s seen a ghost.

“You okay? Do I have something on my face?” You question, pulling down the sun visor to check your appearance in the mirror. Ford shakes his head vigorously, clearing his throat, “No… I… do you remember where you got that necklace?”

You pause at his query, putting the sun visor back into its original position and glancing down at the sunstone that dangles from the simple gold chain. “Oh this? I honestly don’t remember, I’ve had it for quite some time. Why do you ask?”

Ford takes a deep breath before looking back onto the road, “I… well… gave it to you. We drove up here from Backupsmore to start my grant research. Along the way, we stopped near one of the parks and you found that piece of sunstone. You carried it around everywhere so one night, I took the time to fashion it into a necklace so you’d never lose it.” 

There’s a pause before you speak. That pause felt like eternity to Ford.

“You know…I think you were in my dream last night...” You say, staring at the necklace with a newfound understanding. “I was back at Backupsmore and walking to the library. I ended up walking up to someone with their head buried in the books and I called out your name but I woke up after that.”

Ford was not expecting that response, looking over at you in alarm, “This may be a stretch but was there indication in your dream that it was fall?” You nod slowly.

“That was the first time we met. You were struggling with the section on seismic refractions in a physics course that I had taken a semester prior. Our professor recommended me as a tutor.” Ford recounts, his fingers gripping the wheel slightly tighter.

“Jeez… could all my dreams… just be memories?” You mutter to yourself but loud enough for Ford to hear it. “You’ve had other dreams….?” Ford questioned, his mind reeling with this discovery. “Yeah, I’ve had them for years. There’s always someone else in them… but before I can figure out or discern who it might be, my body wakes up.” You admit, rifling through your bag before pulling out a small leather bound journal.

“This is a bit embarrassing to admit but I’ve been keeping track of them here.” You say hesitantly as you hold up the leather bound journal. Ford stared between you and the journal in awe. He had always found preparation attractive and he thinks he may have fallen in love with you all over again.

“Perhaps we can go through some of them and see if it correlates to any memories I have.” Ford attempts to say with a steady voice but there’s a hint of excitement in his proposition. “I honestly would love that… I feel like I’ve been trying to crack the code of these dreams without any key.” You reply eagerly.

Ford makes the final turn up the hill, approaching the massive gates to what was formerly the Northwest Manor. Your eyes widen, staring at the impressive estate before you. You watch as Ford presses on the intercom, “Fiddleford, we’re here.” before the gates open to let you in.

“This.. is where Fiddleford lives? Did he make a breakthrough with his personal computers or something?” You question to which Ford chuckles nervously. “You could say that. Honestly, it’s quite a long story that we can talk about inside.” After parking the car in front of the fountain, Ford gets out of the car before opening the door for you.

You two make your way to the wooden front door, which bursts open soon after Ford raps his knuckles against it. You’re greeted by your friend, who looks considerably older despite being the same age as you and Stanford that you almost didn’t recognize him. Fiddleford embraces Ford first before stepping back to assess you. You gulp, anxiety filling up your system once again.

You’re quickly enveloped into a tight hug by Fiddleford, which you return. “My god, Fiddleford, it’s been too long. I thought you disappeared off the face of the Earth.” You said shakily. You two pull apart as Fiddleford grasps your arms, “Sweet sarsaparilla, look at you, Y/N! You make me and Ford look like old geezers! I’m real sorry I hadn’t reached out until now…”

“There’s no need to apologize, Fiddleford… I’m just glad we reconnected.” You say, a wave of nostalgia hitting you. “Come on in, you two! We got a lot of catching up to do!” Fiddleford says, ushering you into the massive home with his arm before closing the door.

[f1goat]

more than friends + lando norris x part one

In which your best friend wants to help you so you get more sexual experience, but he discovers quickly that he never wants to share you and your new sexual experience with others.

masterlist - playlist

warnings: smut with a plot or a plot with smut? :) sexual content starting next chapter. minors dni! i never proofread so probably grammar or spelling errors

requested: yes, based on: something with a driver sister that’s still a virgin & lando (her bestfriend) suggests to teach her things (ofc pretending for it to bot mean anything), while he’s actually in love with her

Lando is holding you tightly when he helps you to get into your car. The two of you did talk about him picking you up tonight, but it’s not even near to the time you agreed on. It were your friends who texted him to come pick you up, since you’re drunk. When he arrived he was quick to find out how drunk you are. Lando lets you lose when you’re seated in his car, he puts the seatbelt around you and walks towards his own side. He’s quick to take his seat next to you and to start the car.

“Oh my god,” you slur, “did you already turn on the seat warming for me?”

Lando laughs about your enthusiasm. “Yeah I did,” he tells you.

“You’re the best friend ever,” you continue to slur drunkly. You make yourself comfortable on the car seat. Lando drives away. He can’t help himself and looks at you whenever he has the chance. He wonders why you’re this drunk. 

“Why did you drink so much?” He asks you after a bit of wondering. He can’t think about any reason himself. Normally you don’t like to drink too much. 

“They kept talking about their boyfriends,” you confess without even thinking about it. The alcohol has made your mind hazy. You don’t think things through right now. “And I felt single,” you continue to tell Lando, “and then I realized I’ll probably stay single forever.”

“Don’t say that,” Lando quickly states, “You’re a catch for every boy.”

“And if I ever find a boy who likes me,” you slur further, “he’ll probably lose all interest when he figures out that I have no sexual experience and don’t know what to do.”

Lando hits the brakes as hard as he can. Your confession made him almost ran through a red traffic light. He looks at you with a confused gaze. Of course he has been your friend forever but the two of you never talk about things like this. He knows you aren’t dating a lot and you’re certainly not sleeping around. But he did think you had lost your virginity once. Now that he thinks about it, he has no idea with who he thought that should be. 

And the most fucked up part is that it kinda turns him on to know that you’re a virgin. It makes him think about everything he could teach you and do with you if you were his. The thought of having you while no one else ever did makes him lose all his sane thoughts.

“See even you think it’s weird,” you exclaim annoyed, “just say so Lan. You’re my best friend, you can tell me that it’s weird. The girls also told me.”

“It’s not weird,” Lando is quick to say, “and if anything, I would say a lot of guys would like it.”

You let out a weird fake laugh. “Nice try Lando,” you say annoyed, “I should just find some random guy to take my virginity and teach me some things.”

“No!” Lando says quickly, “Don’t do that. Not with some random guy.”

“With who then Lan? Maybe I should text all my guy friends and ask them, that seems like a great idea,” you continue with the same annoyed tone.

“Just text me,” Lando says so soft he almost whispers it to you. 

You barely hear him. At first you thought your drunk mind made it up that he said that. But when you notice the way he looks at you, you start to believe that he actually said it.

“You would want that?” You ask him.

“Yes,” he confesses, “I can teach you a few things. If you want to.”

“Deal,” you quickly say.

“You can tell me if it’s a deal tomorrow, when you’re not drunk anymore babygirl.”

Babygirl. That’s new.

+++

The following day you wake up with a massive headache. Lando is still sleeping next to you. You wonder why you ended up in his bed instead of in the bed in the guest room where you normally sleep. Weird. You have almost no memories left from last night. When you turn around you notice that Lando is following your moves in his sleep. He presses himself against your body. Weird. You unlock your phone and read some of the messages from last night. Your friends send a couple messages last night in the group text.

Friend 1: did you get home?

Friend 2: ??? Answer y/n

Friend 1: nvm we texted Lando and he told us you got home safe with him

You let out a sigh and start to type a message.

Y/N: oops sorry girls, I’m with Lando & having a massive headache  rn :(

You open your socials and scroll for a bit while waiting until Lando wakes up. It doesn’t take long before he wakes up. You feel him moving next to you in the bed. Carefully you turn around to look if he’s really awake. You’re quickly greeted by his open eyes.

“Morning babygirl,” Lando says with a raspy morning voice. 

“Hi Lan,” you reply softly.

Since when does he call you babygirl? Your mind switches back to yesterday night and you remember him calling you that as well last night. Weird. You remember him something saying that you would have to agree as well when you’re not drunk anymore. About what was that? You try to remember, but your mind leaves you hanging. 

“How are you feeling?” Lando asks you.

“Terrible,” you sigh, “I barely remember anything and I have a massive headache.”

Lando lets out a frustrated sigh, he hoped that you’d remember the conversation from you two from last night. He wonders if he needs to start about the subject or let it be. 

“You drank a lot,” he says eventually, “Why did you even do that?” Of course he already knows the reason, but he wants to hear it again from you. He needs to know for sure that last night wasn’t a drunk lie from you. 

You think about the reasons why you drank that much. Slowly you feel your memories coming back to you. You remember feeling frustrated when you realized how single - and inexperienced - you’re in comparison with your friends. They talked about their boyfriends and their sex lives a lot, both subjects you couldn’t say anything. You remember drinking too much because you wanted to forget about your awful love life. Then you start to remember the car ride back with Lando.

“Fuck,” you mutter, “I already told you, didn’t I?”

Lando nods to confirm your thoughts. He waits for you to continue. You should remember the rest by now as well, right?

“Oh my god,” you suddenly exclaim, “did I really ask you to teach me those things? Fuck I’m sorry Lan, I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

Lando realizes that you don’t remember everything correctly. It went different. You were talking about different boys who could teach you those things, random guys even. He was the one who offered to do it himself. 

“It didn’t go like that babygirl,” he says slowly, “I offered.”

You start to remember the conversation in more details now. Lando is right. He did offer. You feel a blush creeping up on your cheeks. What do you need to tell him now? You think about everything that can go wrong when you’re getting involved with him like that. But you also can’t shake off the thoughts about doing those things with Lando. You have had a crush on him for a while, you can probably say that you’re in love with him. In love with your best friend like a real idiot. It wouldn’t be bad to explore everything with him, he’s the guy you trust most. But what if you can’t keep it casual like that? You already know you want more.

“I remember now,” you confess.

“And I’m still offering,” Lando continues, “I don’t even want to think about you doing those kind of things with a random guy.”

“But you do want to do those, uh those things with me?” You ask awkwardly.

“Yes,” Lando is quick to confirm, “It’s not like I’m the most experienced guy around, but I can teach you some things.”

“But what if that ruins our friendship?” You ask him afraid.

“It won’t,” Lando quickly states, “We have to set some boundaries. Like having a safe word for if you’re not comfortable with what I’m doing and about how we will keep it from ruining our friendship.”

The following conversation is a bit awkward, but it’s a good one. Lando tells you about his boundaries, he doesn’t want you to have sex with someone else in the mean time - but he does want to teach you everything he knows. Teach. It even sounds ridiculous when you think about it. But you can’t deny that you want it. Fuck, there’s nothing you want more on this moment.

“So what safe word will you chose?” Lando asks you. 

“How do you see this going?” You ask back, “Do I need to make you a list or something with everything I want? Do we need to plan this like teaching sessions?”

Lando softly laughs. He pulls your body closer towards himself. In only milliseconds he’s pressed up against you. You squirm under his touch. Lando lets out a groan. It’s insane what you’re already doing to him. Your innocence is turning him on so much. 

“If you want you can make a list,” he tells you with a smile, “and if you want we can plan your so called teaching sessions. Although, I suggest to let things happen a bit more naturally.”

“Naturally?” You ask him confused.

“Yes babygirl,” Lando replies, “Can you turn around and face me?”

You do what he asks you. You turn yourself around. Lando his face is only a couple inches away from you now. It takes you everything to stop yourself from going closer. He stares at you and you can’t stop staring back. Of course you already knew he’s beautiful, but now you’re seeing it from even closer.

“Can I touch you?” Lando asks you while he maintains eye contact with you. You can’t find the words to answer his question, even when you only want to say yes. So you show him a simple nod. 

“I need words baby,” he says, “I’ll only do things to you if I’m sure that it’s what you want.”

“Touch me,” you say with a soft voice. When Lando takes a couple more seconds you even add another word. “Please.” 

Fuck if he wasn’t turned on already this would be the moment for it. Lando can’t stop imagining you begging for him - for his touch, his cock and more. He shakes the thoughts off, maybe that’s something for later. If he’s lucky. 

He softly puts his hand on your cheek and brings your face even closer to his. Without giving it a second thought he presses his lips against yours. Softly he presses multiple kisses against your lips. You are quick to open your mouth a bit, hoping that he wants more. Just like you do at this moment. Lando grants your wish. He lets his tongue enter your mouth and starts to explore your mouth with his own. You feel your stomach tighten a bit. 

Why does it feel so good to kiss with your best friend?

Lando moves his hand to your body. He pulls you even closer towards himself. Then he starts to draw figures on your lower back with his fingers. You let your hands wander around his body as well. At first you’re focused on his hair, softly tugging on some of his curls. You love his curls. Lando moves his face back a bit, you directly miss the feeling of his lips on yours. 

“How does that feel?” He asks you. His hand is still placed on your lower back. You want it even lower. How would if feel if he would grab your ass? 

“Good,” you confess, “really good.”

Lando is hand is still on the same place. You almost feel yourself aching for more of his touch. Do you need to tell him? He is watching you in silence. It surprises you that you feel quite comfortable with him watching you like this. 

“You should take a shower,” Lando says eventually, “We’re going out for lunch with Max.”

You send him a surprised look. That was it? 

Lando laughs softly, “Patience babygirl, it’s a marathon, not a sprint.”

You almost tell Lando that you feel turned on, almost. This will be a long day. With a soft huff you get out of the bed and walk towards the bathroom. The cold air distracts you from your feelings, for a few seconds you forget about how turned on you are right now.

“Maybe you can add that to you list,” Lando jokes, “Shower sex. I have never done that either.”

Great. Now you can’t even shower anymore without thinking about Lando taking you underneath the water. This will ruin a lot of things, but strangely you aren’t that afraid for it to ruin things between Lando and you. 

“I thought I didn’t need to make a list,” you tell him.

“Maybe you should,” Lando replies, “I think I’d like a list after all. What if I forget something eh?”

You show him a small smile before disappearing in the bathroom. Lando sighs when you close the door. It took him a lot of good will to stop things instead of going further with you. It has been a while since he has been this hard. He can’t even remember the last time he was this turned on now that he thinks of it. It probably was last summer when you wore that tight bikini.

part two

[coff33andb00ks]

world around us

summary: you're a candle in the window on a cold dark winter's night word count: 1k pairing: lando norris x oscar piastri x driver!reader (lilli. it's lilli) warnings: just pure fluff, slightly suggestive language(?) a.n.: final installation of my I need Lilli to have an amazing birthday series! this is once again for @maxlarens HAPPY BIRTHDAY LILLI MY LOVE!!! playlist: completely unhinged songs that fit the vibe

"No no no no no no no! You can't do that! You fuckin' muppet!"

Oscar mirrors your eye roll as Lando protests you placing a house on one of your properties. "She owns it though?" he says tentatively.

Lando scoffs, snatching up the guide and snapping it open. "The rules say–"

"I refuse to follow rules when you rolled twice so you wouldn't go to jail," you say with a huff, snatching the guide from him.

"I had to! One of the dice landed on the floor!"

"Oh but when we play golf I have to play no matter where my ball lands?"

"Yes." Lando gives you a look of disbelief, as though the idea of breaking a golfing rule is akin to murder. "It's not my fault you can't hit a ball straight."

"Just for that–" You slap more brightly colored money in front of Oscar - Oscar has to be the banker he's the most honest one among us - and grab a hotel to replace the house. "Suffer."

Lando groans, throwing up his hands. "You're cheating. I hate games night."

Oscar's grin shifts and he begins to chuckle. "We could play Trivial Pursuit?"

"No," Lando whines, picking up the dice to take his turn. "That game makes me feel stupid."

"Uno?" you suggest sweetly.

"No, we'll finish this. Capitalism is good to me, I'll make a comeback." Lando nods to himself as he shakes the dice. "Just shut up so I can focus."

And then, twenty minutes later–

"What d'you mean I owe you double the rent?!"

The rules are checked - well this is fucking bullshit - and he counts out all of his money to pay up. Suddenly capitalism sucks and he's clinging to his one property block and his cash like they're his lifeline.

You'll never know how (he probably cheated) but he wins. Monopoly money rains down as he celebrates and you fall back with laughter when Oscar flips the board in disgust.

You love games night. The silly playlist Lando put together plays, Disney movies play, muted, on the tv, and you've got them.

Lando and Oscar. Your biggest rivals on the track and your closest friends off. You're celebrating Oscar's first win this week now that summer break is here, enjoying the lazy days before you each take off in different directions to visit family and recuperate from an exhausting first half of the season.

"Loser cleans up," you remind Oscar and he groans as he gives you a kiss then begins picking up the mess. Lando's singing along to the latest country song he's obsessed with - Is it your heart or mine? Is it whiskey or wine? Is it somethin' in the night Makin' us wanna cross that line? - and he follows you into the kitchen to get more drinks.

"You sure you don't want to come along with me?" he asks, reaching around you to get a beer from the fridge.

"Let me see... Golfing with a bunch of men versus beach time with my best friends…" You hum thoughtfully, squealing when loops an arm around you.

"That can't be right. Me and Osco are your best friends," he says.

"Let me rephrase. Best women friends."

He's holding you close, swaying a little to the song playing - you think Oscar's the one who added ABBA, or maybe it was you - and you smile a little as you sway with him. He hums songs without realizing it and it's one of his more endearing habits.

"But I'll miss you," he murmurs, tucking his chin on your shoulder.

"I'll miss you too." And you will. This season you've grown closer to him. Literally, considering he finally talked you - and Oscar - into moving to Monaco. But also figuratively. You're just as rough on yourself as he is on himself, and with all the macho bravado that surrounds you every race week, it's nice to have someone who understands your being upset over missing out on a podium due to your own failings as a driver, your miscommunication with the team. It's rarer to have someone who understands shouldering the blame of the team's missteps – if I was better at this, they would trust my judgment but I'm not so they don't and that means—

"Not getting sappy on me are you?" Lando teases.

"You started it," you mutter. Turning, you wrap your arms around him. "We can live a few weeks without each other."

"I mean… You'll text right? Call?" he asks softly.

"FaceTime too," you promise.

It's tentative and new and so fucking scary but he gives you a soft kiss. Not your first with him, but it still makes your heart do that weird little flutter that it's only ever done with one other person.

"Jenga?" Oscar calls from the living room and Lando perks up instantly, nearly knocking you down in his haste to get back to the only other person he's going to miss during break.

Jenga with your boys is impossible. They're too competitive, know too many things they can say that make the other break and send the blocks flying.

"Oh of course he's going for the bottom, man loves to be at the bottom," Oscar mutters to you and Lando's giggling, covering his face with his hands as the tower collapses.

The games are abandoned, and you're squished on the couch between them, Oscar's lips on your ear, Lando's head on your stomach as the three of you, tipsy and relaxed, begin making plans for the last days of break while a Studio Ghibli movie plays. It's not said by either of you, but you already know that the three of you will find each other long before the break is over.

The world is easier to bear when it's the three of you together. It's still new, still tentative, still scary as hell, but it feels oh so right.

[soapsbaby]

Silly Spicy Call of Duty headcanons

Characters: Simon "Ghost" Riley, Johnny "Soap" MacTavish, König, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Alejandro Vargas, Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra, John Price, Valeria Garza, all x reader Rating: 18+ (Minors DNI) Themes: All NSFW but very lighthearted, nothing particularly triggering but ask to tag! Word count: 750ish

These are just silly little headcanons about them, PLEASE if you have any like these send them to me i had such a blast writing them lol!!

Ghost

Sometimes his mask slips a little and he looks goofy as hell, you have to do your best to not laugh into his face because you know he won’t let that slide.

Uses British lingo sometimes. Has called your pussy a “fanny” before. Got mad when that made you giggle.

Once got so frustrated with trying to figure out how to operate one of your vibrators that he broke it. Was very apologetic and immediately ordered you another one afterwards.

Soap

He is clumsy as hell. Every time you have tried to fuck in a position that is anywhere near athletic, something goes wrong. It’s a miracle neither of you have broken your necks trying to get it on in the shower. He will always take the fall though, protecting you with everything he has and curling himself around you even if it means he will end up bruised or bleeding.

Makes a lot of typos when sexting, never notices. Called you “baby gorilla” once (you will never let him live that down).

Gets offended when you call him “Soap” in the bedroom. You know my name, what are you calling me that for? Dummy.

König

He doesn’t usually wear his balaclava under his mask when you have sex since it gets too sweaty but since his mask is pretty loose he will sometimes have to pft-ppf-tpftt when it gets stuck in his mouth. Has almost choked on his mask before.

Gets so flustered that he will just start sputtering nonsense. Has on several occasions been so out of it that he has messed up the nicknames you use for each other. “yes show me that I am your little babygirl, wait- no, you are… I am your boy… you’re… Wait, I’m sorry”. Not a gender or kink thing, which would of course be alright with you, just him being a dummy.

Is a bit of a crier and drooler sometimes which wouldn't be a problem except for the fact that he will sometimes accidentally waterboard himself in his mask and not tell you.

Gaz

Has called you mommy once and was mortified. Neither of you have really spoken about it but sometimes you will drop little hints around him to get him flustered.

Likes when you suck him off while he is playing video games but then gets too into the game and genuinely can’t help but get annoyed when he loses because you distract him.

Cpt Price

Is oblivious to any signs that you want him. Will go into Dad story telling mode and completely ignore the effect he is having on you until you grab him by the shirt and just tell him to fuck you.

Has a sex playlist called "sensual" with just the most cliché sex songs on it possible. Can unironically have sex to "Careless Whisper" and “Let’s get it on”.

Has given you rug burn with his beard before. 0/10 very unpleasant experience (you’d do it again, though).

Alejandro

Will say things that could be interpreted as sexist in the moment and then immediately get apologetic. Who’s my good slut? I mean… If you want to be. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to… Are you okay with that? Okay. Cool.

Will fuck you in uniform because he knows you’re into that and then get distracted by things he finds in his pockets like shopping receipts. 

Doesn’t care whether or not you understand him, he will speak Spanish to you.

Rudy

Gets tormented by you with new pet names every day. mí amor, I don't know what a Zaddy is. I don’t even know if that’s a good thing.

In the beginning of your relationship he was completely oblivious to most kinks. If you ever expressed anything out of the ordinary to you, he’d raise his eyebrows in confusion and say something like “what? why would anyone want that?” but was always open to trying anything. Now he is probably even more of a deviant than you are.

Valeria

Has this roleplay thing going on where you are a traitor to her cause and she discovers it and gets to “punish” you. You find it a little silly but it gets her super riled up so you play along.

Secretly loves to bottom and to be taken care of by you but would never tell you (you know anyway). Thinks she is being very good at hiding it (she is not).

[spookyserenades]

Trouvaille - Chapter Twenty

Pairing(s); BTS OT7 x Reader

Genre/Themes; Hybrid!AU, themes of the supernatural and the occult, religious themes, violence, hurt/comfort, horror, romance

Rated; 18+ for swearing, violence/gore, future sexual themes. Reader discretion is advised.

Word Count; 17.2k

Trouvaille Masterlist

Trouvaille playlist

PLEASE SEE ANNOUNCEMENT ABOUT FUTURE UPDATES HERE

Hello!!! Long-awaited 20 is here!! Honestly this is the longest I've stuck with a fic so I am very honored and lucky to have so many readers willing to wait and enjoy Trouvaille. You all mean the world to me! While Trouvaille will be going on a short hiatus, I will be working on drabbles for the series, so feel free to shoot me some ideas in the meantime. That said, my new fic "Sanctity" will be out in time for fall, and I'm pumped to work on something new and different.

About 20- of course we have the angst, but there are lots of tender moments and humor to patch that up. We have a confession in this update, too, and I hope you all enjoy that scene. It has been highly anticipated 💜 Love to you all and please enjoy (and thank you!! again for all your support!)

Previous Chapter

Silence rang out as Y/N watched Harold Bass’ figure retreat down her porch steps though the stained glass, her heart thundering in her chest painfully and the walls closing in. Was it truly possible that her hybrids could be taken away by such a man? Did a deposit he made on them months ago really hold weight in court? She couldn’t even make a motion to grapple for her phone in her pocket to call Ben in a panic, her breath coming out in uneven pants. 

“A million dollars for seven of us,” Jeongguk broke the stillness, his voice taking on a cold and distant quality that she hadn’t heard from him in months. “Kind of an offer you can’t refuse, honestly, Y/N.”

Flinching like she was shot, Y/N spun around to stare at his stony expression, tears immediately gathering in her eyes. Everything hurt, the idea of her boys getting shipped off to their demise, Jeongguk’s dig, and the way Namjoon couldn’t even look at her. Tears slipping down her cheeks, her elk hybrid’s demeanor shifted slightly, surprise flashing in his eyes. 

“How… how could you say that to me?” Y/N asked quietly, devastated. With all the progress she thought she made with Jeongguk and Namjoon, she couldn’t understand those reactions. Jeongguk blinked, all of the iciness melting from the wall he put up, Namjoon stiffening when he scented her bitter tears. “How could you t-think that I’d ever? Why would you think…”

Voice cracking when she spoke, an involuntary sob wracked through her. 

“Shit…” Jeongguk hissed, regretful. Y/N was too busy miserably staring at the floor with tears pouring from her lash line to notice him stepping forward. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

Jeongguk’s palm cradled the back of her bowed head, his tattooed fingers sliding through the strands of her hair as he coaxed her into an embrace, her cheek squished against his chest. Pausing, she was stunned when his heavy forearm wrapped around her lower back and drew her even closer. Sniffing, her tears were flowing for a different reason now, her arms hanging limply by her sides as Jeongguk held her. 

“That was stupid, I didn’t mean it. I’m so sorry, doll,” Jeongguk rested his chin on the top of her head, Y/N curling her fingers into the front of his tee shirt at the new, tender pet name he offered her. Curiously, her vision still watery, she peered at Namjoon looming over them close by, his fluffy ears sideways and eyebrows knit together. Concerned. 

“It’s– it’s okay, as long as you really b-believe I’d never,” Y/N swallowed, throat raw. “I’d never let him take you from me. Not for anything! No amount of money or threatening lawsuits, we’re a family. Tell me you believe that, please.”

Jeongguk shushed her, his hand sliding from her hair to around her shoulders, squeezing firmly, the action a non-verbal response. Still looking at Namjoon, the wolf hybrid was all soft edges after hearing how Y/N resolutely stated that she thought of them as family. 

“I believe you,” Jeongguk murmured, giving her one last pat on her shoulder before releasing her, his shirt pulling out of her sweaty fists. “Don’t cry anymore.”

“Sorry,” Y/N mumbled, cheeks flaming. Namjoon growled, Y/N glancing at him nervously, gasping when he was inches from her face. “Joon–”

Namjoon cupped one of her cheeks– still damp– and lowered his face to hers, Y/N’s breath catching in her throat. Reflexively, her eyelids dropped shut when his warm breath washed over the side of her face, and when his full lips pressed against her temple resolutely, her eyes flew back open. Namjoon had never kissed her, and sure, she had brushed one against his cheek before, but he was more than used to her being the more affectionate one in the dynamic. Her tears dried up immediately, Namjoon’s long fingers caressing beneath her jaw. 

“Oh,” was all she could breathe, his lips on her skin warm and supple, and the gesture seemed calculated and sure. 

“Y/N, your friend, Ben. He’d be able to help us with this, right?” Namjoon stretched back up to his full height, smoothing her hair that Jeongguk’s fingers had just mussed back into place gently. 

“Y-yes. I’ll call him… he’ll do everything he can. He’s taken on cases involving hybrids before,” Y/N finally shook off her surprise and dismay, reaching for one of Namjoon’s hands and one of Jeongguk’s, too, holding on tight. Then, there was thundering footsteps smacking against the wooden floorboards.

“What happened?” Yoongi was flying down the stairs, eyes narrowed in suspicion at the two hybrids hiding Y/N from his view. The leopard hybrid walked into the heavy scent of Y/N’s fear and despair as soon as he opened the door to the music room, and his fight or flight kicked in. At that moment, he wanted to fight. “Y/N, what’s wrong?”

Yoongi, even though he was smaller than the two hybrids shielding her from his view, shouldered past them with urgency, Jeongguk stumbling back a few feet due to the force of Yoongi’s shove. If she wasn’t overwhelmed with emotion, she would have giggled at the look of astonishment on Jeongguk’s face. There was a deep crease between Yoongi’s eyebrows as he grit his teeth at the tear tracks on her cheeks, and Y/N could practically see steam coming out of his ears. 

“Did you two say something to her?” Yoongi’s voice was dangerously low, the words spat out between his teeth. Oh, he was furious. 

Quickly, Y/N shook her head, grabbing Yoongi’s wrist before he could lunge at Jeongguk. Posture coiled, he looked down at her, everything about him positively feline and predatory. 

“No, angel, they didn’t do anything! Um, let me explain… how do I..”

“We had an uninvited guest,” Jeongguk recovered from being shoved, rubbing his shoulder where Yoongi barreled into. 

“Who?”

“The motherfucker that wanted to adopt us before Y/N. The one that probably would have killed us. He found the house somehow,” Jeongguk grimaced, Yoongi’s tail going ramrod straight in shock. “Apparently he was the spam caller, he wants to buy us all off of Y/N.”

A pause, Yoongi’s eyes turning into slits as he tried to determine whether or not Jeongguk was telling the truth, before the leopard hybrid scoffed sharply. 

“That’s ridiculous. We’ve been legally adopted, he can’t do that. Only if he has proof of some kind of abuse Y/N has put us through or–”

“A legally binding document,” Namjoon finished for Yoongi, his arms crossed over his chest. 

“Right, which doesn’t exist. Y/N got to us before he did. Why does this guy think he has any kind of claim to stake over us? After all these months?”

“I don’t know, he’s a hedge fund douchebag. He said he made a deposit on us and is actually willing to take Y/N to fucking court,” Jeongguk rubbed his temples, trying to wrap his head around the situation. 

Sure, Y/N’s friend Ben was a very successful lawyer, but with people like Harold Bass and their never-ending supply of money and privilege, the elk hybrid was worried. Yoongi turned a touch green, Y/N able to feel his pulse racing through the grip she had on his wrist. 

“Wait, what’s going on?” Hoseok jogged into the foyer, a layer of sweat coating his golden skin. He had been gone for a few hours to run around the neighborhood, and must have come into the house from the back door. “What are you guys talking about, court? Jesus, you all reek of doom.”

Hoseok’s upturned nose twitched, his russet ears flattening against his head when he saw Y/N’s lower lip begin to quiver. Jeongguk cleared his throat and repeated what he told Yoongi minutes prior, Hoseok’s constant tail wagging going completely still. 

“What the fuck?” Hoseok breathed, staring at Y/N with alarm. “He must have gotten our address from Gerry. That’s the only way he could have found us… hold on.” Something dawned on him, remembering something from his run when he turned down the street they lived on. 

“When I was heading back, not even fifteen minutes ago. Fancy car was driving by, but slowed down when I was passing. The rear window rolled down and this dude started saying some creepy-ass shit to me. He had a gold tooth. Stuff like that happens to me every once in a while, so I just blew him off and kept running. Was that him?” 

Horror washed over Y/N. What if Harold Bass attempted to abduct Hoseok? Bile rising in her throat, she released Yoongi’s wrist and reached for her fox hybrid, palms settling on the slick skin of his biceps. 

“He just talked to you? He didn’t get out of the car or try to touch you, did he? What did he say?” Y/N rapid-fired, scanning his entire body for any sign of something wrong. 

“No, he didn’t get out of the car, I ran away before he could. I’m fine, darling,” Hoseok’s mouth flattened into a line, patting the back of one of her hands. “I didn’t really catch much of what he was saying. The usual, for guys like him. Calling me an ‘animal’, something about how I’d be a tricky one to ‘catch’ or whatever. Probably referring to sport hunting, now that I know who he is.”

“I’m gonna be sick,” Y/N’s voice was faint, blood draining from her face. Urgently, she barrelled to the powder room off of the foyer, her knees slamming against the tile floor when the contents of her breakfast made a second appearance in the toilet bowl. 

As she was heaving, she felt someone gather up her hair in their fist, a free hand gently rubbing her back. Crying again, this time because of the way nausea was curling in her gut, she heard the tap running and the sounds of a washcloth being rung out. Once there was nothing left for her to heave up, she shakily flushed the toilet, sitting back on her heels. 

“Here,” a damp cloth was placed in front of her face, Y/N gawking at the fabric blankly. A rough sigh came from the hybrid holding it, bending to kneel beside Y/N. “It’s alright, doll.”

Jeongguk used a thumb and a forefinger to pinch her chin, angling her face towards him, a concentrated line making up his mouth when he used the cool cloth to dab around her face. Simply staring at him, attempting to catch her breath, she felt the elk hybrid swipe the cold sweat from her brow before he mopped up the saliva around her lips. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Yoongi and Hoseok lingering by the bathroom door, both of them displaying animalistic anxiety with the movements of their tails and positioning of their ears. 

“Sorry,” Y/N squeaked, feeling like she had made their nerves worse by getting physically sick on them. She found a spare bottle of mouthwash under the sink, taking a pause to rinse out her mouth. “Sometimes that happens when I’m really anxious. Thanks, Jeongguk.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Hoseok answered for Jeongguk, watching the elk hybrid toss the washcloth in the hamper and offering his hand to Y/N in order to help her to her feet. Limbs trembling, she let Hoseok pull her up, an arm around her waist to keep her upright. “We’ll figure this out, darling. Don’t you worry.”

“Where did Joon go?” Y/N’s throat was scratchy, noticing his absence when Hoseok led her back into the hall. She watched Yoongi march towards the direction of her bedroom with purpose, her fox hybrid herding Y/N close behind him. 

“He went to deliver the news to the others outside. Jimin and Seokjin were in the garden and I think Taehyung was chopping firewood,” Yoongi grunted, rummaging through Y/N’s dresser determinedly. “Hoseok, can you make her some tea?”

Hoseok whistled, squeezing Y/N’s waist and leaving her in her bedroom alone with Yoongi. Holding onto the wall, she eyed her leopard hybrid warily, having a good idea what he was thinking about. Yoongi wasn’t the type to be afraid of things; he’d watch horror movies with Y/N, unflinchingly carry spiders outside, and chop vegetables with a cleaver while maintaining eye contact with whoever was talking to him. But Y/N knew there was one thing that scared him to death: the possibility of being separated from her. 

“Yoongi, I’m going to call Ben. I want to get ahead of this. Ben might have a way to get this guy out of our life before we even see a courthouse,” Y/N announced firmly, reaching for her phone on her nightstand. 

“Come here,” Yoongi’s voice was barely above a whisper, Y/N turning to look at him curiously. He stood close, and stacked a soft pair of sweatpants and a slouchy tank top on her bed, his familiar purrs filling the room when she obeyed his request. “Let’s get you changed, baby. Wait for Namjoon to tell the other three what happened before you talk to Ben.”

Y/N nodded, distractedly popping the button of her jeans open. Yoongi helped her out of them, his eyes not darkening like they usually did when he saw her in such a state of undress, Y/N shivering when his cool fingertips slid beneath her sweater. Gingerly, he peeled the garment off of her, and Y/N let him dress her like a Barbie doll– she suspected he was deeply focusing on the task to make himself feel better. Once he tied the strings of her sweatpants, Y/N took his face in her palms. 

“No one's gonna take you from me, you got that?” Y/N brushed her thumbs over his cheekbones, his hazel eyes glittering. Long hair falling forward as he leaned down, Yoongi kissed her lower lip softly, his hands stroking up the length of her spine. 

 “I know you won’t go down without a fight, baby,” Yoongi murmured, pulling her in for a hug and resting his face in the crook of her neck. 

“I hope it doesn’t come to that,” Y/N admitted, pressing her cheek over Yoongi’s heart so the steady beating would calm her. “I love you all too much to not give that motherfucker the fight of his life.”

Y/N expected Yoongi to snort at her comment, but he didn’t. If anything, he paused, pulling away from her slightly. Confused, she accepted her phone from him, his free hand clasped with hers. 

“We should put Ben on speaker in the living room. He might have some advice for all of us,” Yoongi began to escort her to the parlor, his tail curling around the back of her leg securely. 

Silently agreeing, she searched for Ben in her contacts, catching a whiff of a familiar cologne as they walked through the hallway. Sandalwood– Taehyung. Namjoon must have swallowed some pride to drag him back into the house. Biting her lip, she wondered how he took the news, wondering if that would be the straw that broke his back. As if sensing her thoughts, Yoongi tightened his grip on her hand, perhaps encouragingly. Everyone was standing around in the living room, Seokjin looking like he was about to pass away and Jimin’s leg bouncing nervously. Without a word, Y/N dialed the number, placing the phone on the coffee table gravely. 

“Y/N! How are you, honey?”

“I’ve been better,” Y/N glanced at Taehyung, who was staring out into the backyard, the Kodiak hybrid unseeing, like he was neither here nor there. “Something happened, I need your help.”

The first thing Ben suggested was filing a temporary restraining order against Harold Bass, which he was promptly in the process of taking care of for her. Ben told her that the fact that the man took it upon himself to harass her with phone calls, show up at their house, and make indirect threats to Namjoon, Jeongguk, and Hoseok was plenty of evidence to file the order. Y/N sent screenshots of the amount of times Harold tried to call her. If they did end up at the courthouse, Ben said he could get a recording of the time Y/N had actually picked up the phone and talked to Harold and use that in her defense. 

Ben’s calm tone and reassuring words did wonders to ease not only her mind, but seemed to get her boys to relax somewhat. The lawyer sounded confident that even if Harold Bass managed to take them to court, he wouldn’t be able to take the boys from her with a mere deposit slip, considering how long the hybrids had already legally been under her care. Ben told her to take things easy for the following days, perhaps staying close to or inside of their home, advising Hoseok to pause his runs around the neighborhood and making sure that their house alarms were working. 

In the days that followed, Y/N and the boys stuck closely together. Thankfully it was the weekend, so trips to the rec center were unnecessary, and Y/N even arranged for groceries to be delivered to the house. The backyard was fenced in as well, so when the boys got a little itchy to stretch their legs and be outside, they could do so freely. Y/N felt horrible that they weren’t able to do things that they normally did during the weekends; like go into the city for dinner, see a movie, or shop in the town square. If any of them were bummed out about it, none of them let it show. 

Jeongguk took it upon himself to set up Pentagon-level security in the house, ordering Ring cameras, setting up lights that would automatically turn on if anyone approached the entrances inside, and monitored the cameras in the downstairs office like the Secret Service. He hadn’t so much as mentioned anything paranormal related since Harold Bass turned up on their porch. 

Namjoon, too, had upped the intensity with security. He would linger by all the doors for hours, looking out the windows, making sure things were locked up tight. Y/N caught him in the office one day, his teeth bared, asking Jeongguk to order more locks to install on the front and back doors. 

As for her two feline hybrids, there was hardly a moment where one of them wasn't glued to her side. Truthfully, her alone time (not that she necessarily craved it) was reserved for when she needed to use the bathroom or bathe. Every night Seokjin and Yoongi would curl around either side of her body, not being able to bear sleeping without her until Harold Bass was out of their lives for good. 

It was only when Ben called her Saturday afternoon to tell her the temporary restraining order had gone through that everyone breathed a collective sigh of relief. One of the positive things that came with the recent bumps in the road was Taehyung being around more often. He started to make an appearance during their nightly movies, and didn’t skip meals anymore. While he hardly spoke unless it was absolutely necessary, Y/N counted his presence as a silver lining. 

However, that same Saturday evening was when Y/N had asked Laura to come over and assess the situation with Taehyung as a third party, followed by watching her son Kai for a few hours while she and her husband went out for dinner and a movie. Paired with the good news of the restraining order, Y/N actually grinned when she swung the front door open to reveal one of her best friends, holding her son on one hip and balancing a diaper bag on the other. Behind her, Y/N could see Tyler– Laura’s husband– lugging some kind of play mat up the porch steps. 

“Is this your way of asking me if I can watch him for the weekend while you two go to Sandals or something?” Y/N made grabby hands for Kai, a sweet toddler with dark coily curls similar to his Auntie Alice’s. 

Laura snorted, passing him over easily, Y/N cooing and nestling the boy on her hip. Kai sleepily rested his rounded cheek into the crook of Y/N’s neck while she ushered his parents inside, Jimin appearing from his bedroom to take the diaper bag from Laura. Jimin, Hoseok, and Seokjin were the best with children out of all of her hybrids. It was likely Jimin had such a way with them considering his upbringing on the ranch with his own family. Hoseok loved to goof off, and kids being around was the perfect excuse to be wacky. 

As for Seokjin, kids were drawn to him like a magnet. Probably because he was so sweet, gentle, and shy. Y/N had noticed a frequent expression of longing whenever she and Seokjin were in a store together and they encountered a baby in a stroller. She hadn’t explicitly talked to Seokjin about it, but she was pretty sure he wanted kids in the future. The thought of a tiny version of her and Seokjin, maybe one with his ears, nearly made her trip into the living room with Kai still in her arms. 

“Aw, look how big he’s getting!” Hoseok exclaimed in a silly voice, wiggling his fingers against Kai’s tummy when Y/N came into the parlor. 

Not everyone was present, Namjoon and Jeongguk were in the van doing a little research on the hotel they were to investigate in the near future, and Yoongi was stress-baking in the kitchen like he had been doing for the past several days. Y/N had never eaten so many cookies in her entire life. 

“Can you believe it? He’ll be in preschool before we know it,” Laura was helping Tyler roll out the mat on the floor, one with shapes, colors, and animals labeled on it. 

“Momma, a fox! He has ears,” Kai pointed a chubby index finger at Hoseok’s head, his triangular appendages twitching when the child’s attention were on them fully. 

“That’s right, honey. That’s Hoseok, Auntie Y/N’s friend,” Laura took Tyler’s hand to help her up, Hoseok making an odd chirping sound when his name was called. “He’s a fox hybrid. Look over here, see who’s helping daddy? That’s Jimin, he’s a coyote hybrid.”

It had been so long since Y/N had seen Kai, she didn’t realize how much his vocabulary had expanded. He was wiggling in Y/N’s grip, so she gently lowered him to the ground, where he hurried over to Jimin placing some of the child’s toys on the mat. Jimin didn’t even flinch when Kai accidentally tread over the coyote hybrid’s sandy tail, which had Y/N cringing– if she knew anything about the sensitivity of hybrid tails, she knew that that must have hurt like a bastard. 

“Hello Seokjin! Taehyung, you too! I haven’t seen any of you since Taehyung’s birthday party in December,” Laura sat on the couch beside Y/N, taking stock of how many of the hybrids were in the room. Taehyung lingered in his usual spot at the back of the room, the settee by the window overlooking the backyard, while Seokjin was glued to Y/N’s other side on the couch, naturally. “So, how have things been? I heard about… that unsavory man. Ben will kick his butt though.”

“I have no doubt about that, I’ve seen him demolish Hoseok with sarcastic banter. He must be an amazing lawyer,” Jimin pointed out cheerfully. The coyote hybrid had attempted to be upbeat ever since finding out about Harold Bass, which Y/N appreciated. “That aside, next time you’re here during the day, we can show you two and Kai the garden and the stable. Do you think he’d like to meet the horses?”

“Oh, absolutely. He loves animals and hybrids. Can’t you tell how excited he is to be around you? And little Daisy has become one of his best friends,” Laura leaned back, subtly glancing at Taehyung behind her shoulder. Y/N was glad he hadn’t snuck from the room already, though with hybrid perceptivity, he could definitely tell Laura was no threat to him. “Kai, gentle! Remember what I told you about their ears?”

Indeed, Kai was climbing on one of Jimin’s thighs as the hybrid sat on the floor, his toddler-sized fists reaching for Jimin’s ears that were flopping forward cutely. 

“It’s okay, I’ve had my share of young ones on the ranch tug at my ears. I’m used to it,” Jimin shrugged, a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth, letting Kai scratch behind his ears easily. “Are you two going out?”

“Ah, yes. I made reservations for us at a place near the theater in town. We’re going to catch a movie after. Laur, I’ll start the car while you say goodbye?” Tyler gave Kai a hair ruffle, waving good-naturedly to everyone in the room. “Thanks for watching him, we really appreciate it!”

There was a squawk coming from Hoseok on the leather recliner when Kai chose to amble towards Seokjin rather than the fox hybrid gesturing wildly, Y/N giggling at Hoseok’s faux-devastated expression. 

“Up!” Kai lifted his arms in the air, staring at Seokjin determinedly with his wide chocolate brown eyes. “Cat!”

Seokjin froze from beside Y/N, who was trying her very best not to laugh at her jaguar hybrid, who looked like he didn’t know whether to shit or go blind. 

“It’s okay, Seokjin, you can pick him up,” Laura encouraged, Seokjin tentatively leaning forward, his forearms flexing when he gingerly lifted the child into the air, Kai curling into his lap and the crook of his elbow immediately. “He just likes to snuggle. It’s his nap time right about now, I’ll scoot as soon as his eyes get heavy.”

Y/N had a hard time focusing on anything but Kai nestled in Seokjin’s arms. Subconsciously, Seokjin’s sleek black tail curled around the boy’s lap protectively, soothing purrs vibrating from his chest. The tender expression on Seokjin’s face, one that Y/N was more than used to by now, had her melting into the velvet fabric of the couch. 

“Aw, Jinnie, he likes you, cat,” Hoseok teased, recovering from Kai not choosing him to take his late afternoon nap on. “You’d make a decent dad, huh?”

Seokjin’s purrs grew louder, Y/N chewing on her lip and not missing the very pointed look Seokjin gave her; feline sunset eyes burning– a look that had her heart swelling and something warm blooming in her gut.

“Yeah, I don’t think he knows the word ‘jaguar’ quite yet,” Laura stood and stretched her legs, turning her keen eyes onto Taehyung awkwardly perched on his settee with an old camera to fiddle with, who hadn’t made a peep yet, effectively distracting Y/N. “How's the photography club going, Taehyung? Y/N tells me you’re amazing!”

“O-oh. I don’t know about that… it’s fun, though…” Taehyung couldn’t maintain eye-contact with Laura for more than a few seconds, pulling his threadbare beanie down further over his forehead, but Y/N was relieved that he responded at all. “Thanks for asking, though.”

Laura waved him off with a smile, adjusting her scarf. Y/N texted Laura earlier to tell her she decided to put a hold on her doing conflict resolution at that particular moment. Y/N didn’t think it would be wise to stress Taehyung out even more on top of the legal issues they were caught in the middle of. Besides, with Taehyung being around her more often, especially since his fuckup forgetting Hoseok and Yoongi at the rec center, Y/N had a feeling he was starting to come around again. 

“Okay, I’m going to try and sneak off. He’s a pretty heavy sleeper, so feel free to put on movies or whatever! I should be back here no later than 10,” Laura murmured quietly, Kai’s eyes shut and his small body slumped onto Seokjin’s chest, the jaguar hybrid soothingly rubbing circles on the kid’s back. 

“Wait, Laura,” a voice came from the kitchen, and Yoongi emerged with a large tupperware and was covered in flour and caramel. “Here, take these for later. I have like four more batches on the way.”

“Angel, you’re gonna give us all diabetes. Please relax, take a shower and turn the oven off,” Y/N sighed, getting up to untie the frilly apron Yoongi had been wearing since the sun rose that morning. 

“Don’t listen to her. If you ever start selling these, let me know,” Laura countered, a cookie sticking out of her mouth as she headed towards the front door, her collarbone-length braids swishing as she walked. “See you all soon, have a nice night in!”

Laura shut the front door behind her, and promptly, the new security system chimed as it armed the house, and Namjoon appeared out of nowhere in the foyer to turn the three separate locks with a grunt. 

“Hey Bug, why don’t you come and watch a movie with us? I can tell you’ve been reading all day, your eyes are super watery,” Y/N was in the middle of pushing Yoongi towards the stairs, cringing at the tacky caramel that was clinging to the ends of his long locks. “Yoongi, please go up and shower. If this caramel dries in your hair and I have to cut it I’ll weep for two weeks.”

Mumbling, Yoongi gave her a sugar-sticky kiss on the back of her hand, trudging up the stairs with his tail wrapped around one of his legs– something he did when he was exhausted. Y/N predicted he’d probably fall asleep in his towel on his bed, leaving her to check on and dress him before she retired himself. 

“Don’t you get to pick the movie tonight?” Jeongguk emerged from the kitchen with a cookie in his hand while he addressed Namjoon, crumbs collecting in the corners of his mouth. 

“Ah. I might have to push your night to tomorrow, Joon. Kai, Laura’s son is here, I’m watching him for the night… we should probably put on some kind of cartoon movie,” Y/N passed her palm over Namjoon’s upper arm, the wolf hybrid pushing his blue-light glasses up the bridge of his nose. “I know you wanted to watch Blue Velvet tonight. Tomorrow, I promise.”

“I don’t mind, Y/N. I’m probably too tired to understand anything that requires more brain power than Beauty and the Beast,” Namjoon blinked languidly, Y/N noticing the pen ink covering his fingertips. “At least research took my mind off things.”

“Well that’s good! I’d love to see what you’ve found out so far, in the morning over coffee, how does that sound?” Y/N felt the two hybrids follow her back into the living room, Namjoon double-checking the locks on the front door again. 

“I take it that paranormal topics are off-limits while the kid is here,” Jeongguk had his hands stuffed into the pockets of his black sweats, so close behind her that his caramel-scented breath wafted over the sensitive skin of her neck.

“I wouldn’t say that. He’s currently asleep on Seokjin’s lap. Just keep it down and if he wakes up, change the subject,” Y/N pointed at Seokjin, who was still in the exact spot she left him in, Kai drooling on his white tee shirt. 

“Well, can I drink? It’s Saturday night, and he’s got seven other babysitters,” Jeongguk lifting a pierced brow and nodding towards the bar cart in the corner of the room. 

“Go nuts. I mean, don’t get whacked or anything. I won’t ask you to play pat-a-cake with him when he wakes up, like you said, he’s got seven other babysitters.”

Grumbling, Jeongguk stalked by Seokjin and Kai, sifting through the bottles of liquor on the cart for his favorite gin. Jimin, while Jeongguk’s back was turned, made a dramatic look of great distaste. The coyote hybrid didn’t approve of drinking around children, even if they were asleep. 

“Let’s go with what you mentioned earlier, Joonie. I think I have Beauty and the Beast in my library somewhere…” Y/N slowly lowered herself beside Seokjin, hoping she wouldn’t jolt Kai awake, Namjoon clumsily copying her movements to land on her free side.

Because Namjoon was such a clutz, it wasn’t often that he was able to snag a spot beside her– he was lucky that Yoongi was still showering shortening off of his body. If Namjoon was uncomfortable that his right arm was pressed firmly against her left and his large frame crammed against the armrest, his expression gave away nothing.

Halfway through the movie, Y/N slightly dozing off on Seokjin’s shoulder, she cracked an eye open to the sound of a shutter going off. Taehyung was on one knee, snapping a picture of Kai on Seokjin’s lap, Y/N realizing that the child had one hand wrapped around Seokjin’s tail, and the other around her pointer finger. Smiling lazily, she was too comfortable to say anything, so she let Taehyung take pictures until he settled back down on the floor to watch the rest of the movie. 

When Laura returned a few hours later, Kai stacking blocks on his mat with Jimin, her cheeks were rosy and several of the hybrids were reluctant to give the toddler back, mainly Jimin and Seokjin.  

“Hmm, maybe I’ll have to drop him off here more often,” Laura held Kai in her arms, the boy’s eyes starting to fill when Jimin began to wave goodbye. 

“We’ll watch him whenever you need!” Seokjin blurted instantly, his cheeks turning pink when he realized how loudly he spoke. Laura simply brightened up, turning to her husband. 

“Maybe we can start having our bi-weekly dates again, if that’s the case,” Laura snickered, Kai calling out for Jimin and ‘Cat’. He wasn’t able to precisely pronounce Seokjin’s name yet, which Hoseok teased him for the entire night. “Alright, it’s past his bedtime. Thanks again, Y/N. I’m buying all of you dinner next time I see you, okay?”

“Night Laura, drive safe,” Y/N waved, choking down a smirk when Namjoon closed the door tightly, the three deadbolts sliding into place smoothly. “Thanks for being good sports tonight, guys!”

“It was fun. He’s a cute kid,” Hoseok was leaning against the door to the basement, where his room was. “I think he was kinda spooked by Goth Bambi, though.”

“The fuck did you just say? I know your dumbass isn’t referring to me,” Jeongguk barked, his tapered ears fluttering furiously. That time, Y/N couldn’t bite back her smirk. “You better lock yourself in your foxhole, motherfucker.”

Hoseok whistled his signature tune, not intimidated in the slightest, quick on his feet to do just that before Jeongguk could even take a step forward. 

“You’re laughing? You’re really laughing. I wiped vomit off your face, kiddo,” Jeongguk crossed his inked arms over his chest, Y/N screwing her mouth shut and eyeing the tiny bumps that were beginning to grow where his antlers once were. Truly, in a few weeks, he’d look exactly like Goth Bambi. 

“That’s good. I’m changing your contact info to that,” Y/N wiped a tear from her eye, pulling her phone from her pocket. 

“I’m blocking your ass,” Jeongguk threatened, sticking his pierced tongue right back out at her when she flashed hers at him first. 

“No you won’t. Who else will watch those Youtube videos about shadow people if not me?” Y/N countered, dodging a flick to her forehead. “It’s late, munchkins. I’m gonna check on Yoongi and head into bed myself. Let’s do something fun tomorrow, since the restraining order is in place.”

“That would be nice, I heard there’s a farmer’s market in the town square in the morning. We should go, Y/N, see if they have potted plants that you wanted for the patio,” Jimin suggested, rubbing his eyes tiredly but his tail still swishing contentedly. 

“Perfect, let’s do it!” Y/N agreed, watching Taehyung slip up the stairs with a glass of water and his headphones on, Jeongguk not far behind him and still bitching about Hoseok’s comment. “Mm. I’m gonna follow him so I can make sure Yoongi’s doing alright. Night Jimin, Joonie!”

Namjoon nodded, beginning his rounds to make sure all the windows and doors were sealed before slipping into his bedroom, while Jimin wished her sweet dreams as he always did. The only one left in the foyer with her was Seokjin, who clasped a hand over her elbow to escort Y/N up the stairs. 

“Yoongi pass out again? He’s really living up to feline stereotypes,” Seokjin joked, shaking blue black waves out of his eyes and slowing down his pace so Y/N could keep up. 

“Mmm? You nap more than he does, Seokjinnie. On the other hand, he gets sort of narcoleptic after a hot shower,” Y/N teased, gaze lingering on the glittery chain dangling from his earlobe– a new earring she hadn’t seen before, one that nearly brushed his jutting collarbone. 

“I guess that’s true… you should nap with me next time, my pretty girl,” Seokjin’s smile was easy, squeezing her midsection for a goodnight hug. 

“Sure thing,” Y/N hummed, regretfully pulling away. “Get some sleep, honey.”

Seokjin saluted her, slinking into his bedroom, and Y/N was trailing through the winding hallways of the second floor to the west tower bedroom where Yoongi slept. His lights were still on, but there was no sound coming from behind the door, so Y/N tip-toed in as quietly as she could. 

Her psychic skills must have been getting stronger by the day, because her leopard hybrid was starfished on his bed in nothing but a towel, his phone tossed beside him. Rolling her eyes playfully, she retrieved pajamas from his dresser, not exactly keen on waking him up, but not wanting him to wake up with a cold from laying in a wet towel all night. 

“Baby, come on. I’ll tuck you in,” Y/N whispered directly into one of his spotted ears, brushing a kiss over one of his eyebrows. The effect was immediate, a grumbly purr coming from the back of Yoongi’s throat, his eyebrows pulling together under her lips and a veined hand shooting out to grab her hip. “I know you’re awake. I got you pajamas, can you sit up for me?”

“Depends. Do I get a kiss?”

“What are you, Sleeping Beauty?” Y/N rolled her eyes again, though pressed a simple kiss to his lower lip anyways. “There. Sit up, please.”

Yoongi did as he was told, looking at her through sleepy, lidded eyes, his hair still slightly damp. Hoping her gulp wasn’t audible, seeing him in just a towel and a silver chain, Y/N held his soft tee shirt and pulled it over his head, his ears popping up adorably through the neck hole. 

“Uh, here. I’ll turn around,” Y/N muttered, tossing his sweats and boxers on his lap, and as soon as possible she spun to face the wall. Yoongi scoffed incredulously, though Y/N refused to turn around.

“Why bother facing the wall?” Yoongi questioned, the coils in his mattress squeaking as he got up. Y/N shuddered when he tossed the towel at her feet, her skin tingling. “It’s not like you haven’t seen my cock before.”

“Yoongi,” Y/N hissed, face hot as an iron. “Just put your pants on!”

“You sure?” 

“Stop being a pervert,” Y/N covered her eyes with her hands, listening for the sounds of the leopard hybrid stepping into the clothing she picked out. “You decent?”

“Unfortunately.”

“Ugh,” Y/N tentatively looked over her shoulder, Yoongi by his nightstand table, plugging in his phone. “Even though you’re a hybrid, sometimes I forget you’re still a man.”

“Can’t help it. Not when my girl is so gorgeous,” Yoongi shrugged, collapsing on his bed. “You sleeping in here?” 

“How do I know you won’t seduce me?” Y/N crossed her arms, tsking. “There’s a few things I wanna do before I go to sleep. Tomorrow night, okay, angel?”

Yoongi humphed, rolling over on his side to face away from her. Chuckling, she shut off his lamp, making sure he was tucked in. Exchanging ‘I love yous’, Y/N left his room, creeping down to her own bedroom. After a quick shower, she lit a candle on her bedside table, settling in for a meditation session to keep her nerves in check before passing out face-down, hopefully dreamlessly. 

Sunday morning, Y/N decided to take Jimin’s advice to check out the early spring farmer’s market in the town square, just so everyone could get some fresh air and scenery. With all eight of them loaded up into the Land Cruiser, the trunk full of reusable bags for produce, and sunny pop music on, the general mood was lighter than it had been in quite some time.

It was almost April, small buds dotting all of the trees around the shops, a clean, floral scent in the air. That morning, she was actually able to have her coffee outside due to how pleasant the temperature was, while Namjoon offered her a thick stack of notes he had taken on the bed and breakfast they were going to investigate– apparently called the George Parkman House. Not having too much time to leaf through the packet the wolf hybrid complied, considering the farmer’s market ended at noon and it would be a miracle to get Hoseok up and ready before then, she elected to discuss specifics with the two of them when they got back. 

With the coming of spring, there were several things to think about, not just a potential lawsuit that was a dark cloud in their lives. Taehyung’s important spring expo was coming up, there was a basketball tournament Yoongi was coaching and participating in, and she’d be spending more time than ever in the backyard garden. Jimin offered to give her more riding lessons, which she couldn’t turn down. Lastly, she had to have a conversation with Seokjin about their upcoming trip to New York, since the date they planned to go was coming up fast. Recalling it from yesterday morning, she gripped her steering wheel tightly and tried to ignore Namjoon side-eyeing her.  

“Pretty, can we talk?” Seokjin appeared timid, his strong eyebrows bunching together. 

“What about?” Y/N put the rake down that she was holding, tending to the herb garden with her jaguar hybrid. In the distance, she could hear Jimin taking one of the horses for a jaunt around the trails, hooves clomping down on the damp grass. 

“Our trip to visit Hannah. I think it should wait, we can reschedule for May or something,” Seokjin scratched behind one of his ears, placing a clump of weeds in the compost bin he dragged over earlier. “Until we sort out this legal situation. Besides…”

“Besides?” Y/N encouraged, leaning into one of his strong shoulders and enjoying the sun on her face. She found the little things kept her spirits up, those days. 

“Um… remember how I said that in April it might be…”

“Oh!” Y/N straightened up, the tips of her ears burning. She hadn’t thought about anything remotely sexual in days, so she had completely forgotten about Seokjin’s apparent upcoming rut. 

“Y-yeah. That. I don’t want to be away from home when it happens, if that’s alright.”

“Of course it is, Seokjin. Anything you need or anything I can prepare, let me know,” Y/N held onto his hand seriously, pushing aside bashfulness in order to assure him. 

“Uh. Well, the others. What are we going to do about them? I’m not sure how long it’ll last, and. Hybrids need privacy during their ruts, especially mated ones.”

Y/N paused, eyes going round, soaking in every inch of Seokjin’s gorgeous face. Did he just imply…

“What about that building, there? You think we could stay there?” Seokjin pointed off into the distance with a crooked finger, Y/N’s heart beating out of her chest between the statement he made still sinking in and the way he was speaking so nonchalantly. 

Following the line of his finger when her thoughts were interrupted, she spotted the small guesthouse by the pond, the one she had yet to renovate into the movie room for them to hang out in during the summer months. The rounded building, equipped with a first floor made up of a space to sit, a kitchenette, and a tiny bathroom, the second floor a simple loft, would be a pretty good isolated space away from other ears. It solved Seokjin’s desire to stay home, but have enough privacy. Prior to even considering that guesthouse, she toyed with the idea of getting a hotel room, but she knew Seokjin wouldn’t be keen on that. The guesthouse seemed like the best option. 

“I… I’d need to make a few improvements on it in the next week or so, and clean it out. But I think that’ll work,” Y/N replied quietly, her skin still on fire. Should she bring up the fact that he might have referred to her as his mate? Before she could open her mouth, Seokjin spoke again. 

“Okay, that makes me feel better,” Seokjin’s broad shoulders relaxed down several inches, offering her a broad smile. “Don’t be nervous, pretty. It’s just me.”

“Mmm, I know,” Y/N muttered, his playful remark not doing much to quell her embarrassment. It was like Seokjin had never even looked in the mirror– he was telling her not to be nervous he’d be all over her for several days? “I’ll get it ready this week. I’m taking some time off of work anyways, to make sure Ben settles everything and to prepare for the new case Joon and Jeongguk and I will be tackling in the near future.”

Seokjin placed a silly, loud smooch on the apple of her cheek, returning to his task of weeding around the lavender plants, Y/N willing to place a bet that he had a sly smirk on his face. In retaliation, she reached up to teasingly tickle one of his rounded black ears, a choppy hiss dissolving into a purr at the contact.

Swallowing nervously at the memory, Y/N focused on the daffodils studding the sidewalks of the cute town square she was driving through. Hoseok was whistling to the song ‘Where Is My Mind’, the fox hybrid in shorts– he was one of those guys, as soon as the weather was above 50 degrees, he considered it to be summer. Meanwhile, his best friend next to him was bundled up like there was a blizzard raging outside of the car; Seokjin swaddled in his lilac puffer jacket. Y/N tossed a middle finger into the backseat while Jeongguk was taunting her about her parallel parking skills (it did take her three times to get it right), but once the car was stationary, everyone was eagerly getting out into the sunshine. 

“Which way do we go?” Hoseok was bouncing on the soles of his running sneakers, energy coming off of him in infection waves, one of his arms hooked around Seokjin’s elbow. Seokjin didn’t seem to mind, his nose in the air as he caught the scent of fresh-baked pie in the distance. 

“Just take a right up this block, there’s a grassy field where the tents are set up,” Y/N pointed, helping Jimin take the bags out of the trunks. “You guys can go ahead, just um. Use the buddy system, okay?”

“Does that mean I’m stuck with Mr. Happy?” Yoongi mumbled into Y/N’s ear, glancing at Taehyung, who was taking pictures of the decaying brick of a storefront a few yards away. 

“Well, he likes you the most,” Y/N pointed out, mussing Yoongi’s hair and hoping he’d be a good sport. 

“Alright. This is me making things up to you, when I chewed him out a while ago,” Yoongi trudged away, using two fingers to motion for Taehyung to follow him down the block. Naturally, Namjoon and Jeongguk stuck together, so that made Jimin her buddy. 

“What kind of flowers will last under harsh sun, do you think?” Y/N mused, knowing that Jimin had spent a few months learning about botany ever since he began focusing on the garden and landscaping the backyard. 

“Cacti,” Jimin replied dryly with a twinkle in his yellow eyes, Y/N blinking at his joke. “Kidding, that would look odd. We’re not in Arizona. Asters will look pretty on the patio, don’t you think? They sort of look like purple daisies.”

“Love it. Maybe some petunias, too. They’re my Grandmother’s favorites, she’d love to see them around the house again,” Y/N rounded the corner with Jimin close to her side, his clean lavender scent tickling her nose as a cool breeze rolled by.

As soon as the corner was cleared, they were in a medium-sized, festive green field. Multicolored awnings covering stalls was the first thing she noticed, then children of various heights running around merrily. There was a bearded man with a banjo and a microphone singing in the center of the field, elderly people milling around and haggling prices. Lungs filled with lovely early April air, she hooked a finger in the belt loop of Jimin’s blue jeans, tugging him forward excitedly. With a canine whimper of surprise, he stumbled after her.

Y/N made a beeline for the first stall she saw– one that sold windchimes that made beautiful trilling sounds. Before she could get too carried away, she visually located everyone else; Taehyung and Yoongi were watching the performer, the former taking a photo of the show. Jeongguk and Namjoon had managed to find the only booth that sold crystals and occult oddities, while Hoseok and Seokjin appeared to be making a lap around the field before lingering anywhere in particular.

“Oh, look, Y/N! This one is made from driftwood and seaglass. Since our town is by the ocean, don’t you think this would look nice on the patio?” Jimin pointed to a wind chime hanging from one of the poles of the tent they were under, the seaglass pretty shades of aqua and jade. 

“It’s gorgeous, should we get it?”

“I think so. This one, too, is really nice. Looks old-timey, like our house,” Jimin gestured to another piece with fragile looking cloudy glass.

“That one there I made from recycled glass bottles from the Victorian era. I found the bottles around my property and thought I could repurpose them,” the middle-aged woman who ran the booth explained to them with a proud smile, folding her work-roughened hands on the table in front of her. 

“It’s beautiful. We live in a Victorian, it would look perfect on our front porch,” Y/N ran her finger over the hanging glass pieces to hear how it sounded: clear and pure. ���Can we take both, please?”

“I’ll wrap them up while you two enjoy the other booths, thank you!” The woman began taking the two wind chimes down, Y/N reaching for Jimin’s calloused hand so they could continue taking in the sights.

“Did you notice Namjoon has already picked up a mini cherry pie?” Jimin snorted, Y/N able to easily find Namjoon in the throngs of people because of his taller-than-average height. 

Namjoon must have heard his name across the field, because his head whipped around, a pie in his hand and jam smeared over his thick lips. Shushing Jimin’s giggles while trying to suppress her own, she dragged the coyote hybrid to the next few stalls. She picked up knicknacks here and there, as well as some veggies to cook up for dinner.

The last booth they visited before sitting on the grass to enjoy some of the folk performance was filled with the kind of potted plants they were looking for. The farmer informed them that the flowers could be delivered to their home, which saved Jimin from having to haul them back to the SUV.

“He has such a nice voice,” Jimin commented, a note of jealousy coloring his tone. Y/N nudged him with her shoulder, crossing her legs and feeling grass tickle her bare ankles.

“I’m sure your voice is nicer, Jimin. I mean, your speaking voice is melodic and pretty, why wouldn’t it be?” Y/N cocked her head, wondering if he ever sang around a campfire with his friends on the ranch or if she was stereotyping ranchers.

“You flatter me,” Jimin whispered into her ear, the hybrid’s face peach pink. “I guess I can carry a tune.”

“You’ll have to show me sometime, huh? Yoongi can accompany you,” Y/N grinned, Jimin raking his fingers through his blonde hair. “Alright, I’ll stop teasing. Even if I am serious.”

Moments blended into one another, her and Jimin enjoying a container of cut fruit together, his bushy tail occasionally batting her lower back when he’d hear new noises like a child squealing or cars passing by. Y/N took a moment to study Jimin’s side profile while he was occupied by the show. 

Jimin’s easygoing nature set her at ease completely. There was something about feeling so safe around him, in a different way from Namjoon. Namjoon was intense, territorial, and physically protective, which was certainly comforting to have, particularly in dangerous situations. However, Jimin was more quietly protective, which was due to his abundance of empathy. If one needed to be comforted, Jimin knew exactly how to do it.

“Hey, Jimin,” Y/N tugged on his cargo jacket sleeve, capturing his attention with a curious flop to his ear. “Thank you for keeping me sane these past few days. For staying so upbeat. Don’t think it hasn’t gone unnoticed by me. It’s okay to be nervous about everything in front of me, too, you don’t have to hide your feelings.”

Jimin stared at her with his alarmingly vibrant eyes, processing her words. Usually, Jimin was easy to read, but not at that moment. Sighing with a tiny smile, he picked up one of Y/N’s hands, patting the back of it.

“My dad always told me that worrying about something before it happens is to suffer twice. I know we’re in capable hands with Ben, and I know that you’ll do anything in your power to keep us out of harm’s way, Y/N. I’m not worried because I know we aren’t going anywhere. I can feel it. As for staying ‘upbeat’...”

Jimin’s gaze shifted around the farmer’s market, locating each of the hybrids he lived with, occupied with looking at various wares of their choosing. Free.

“All we ever wanna do is make you smile, Y/N. Make you as happy as you’ve made us.”

“Hey, you. What are you thinking about that has you in a catatonic state?” Jeongguk was annoyingly snapping his fingers in Y/N’s face, Y/N catching one of his fingers in her grasp with narrowed eyes. A zodiac symbol was tattooed on one of the knuckles. 

“Yoongi’s chili,” Y/N fibbed, when actually she had Jimin’s voice bouncing around in her skull. She was still trying to dissect the moment shared with him– was the tenderness in his voice something she made up, or did Jimin sound… lovestruck? “Why do you have this sign tattooed on your knuckle? You’re a Virgo.”

“I have all of the zodiac signs somewhere on my hands or arms. They all have their uses,” Jeongguk leaned back in his seat, kicking his feet up on the van’s breakfast table. “When do you think we can get started on this investigation?”

“As soon as I get an update from Ben about you-know-what, I’ll take that as a green light to focus on this fully,” Y/N gestured to the packet of handwritten notes Namjoon gave her. Speaking of the devil, he rested his hip against the kitchenette counter, waiting patiently to start a productive conversation about the building and its history. “Joonie, wanna give me a run-down on the bed and breakfast’s past?”

Straightening out importantly, Namjoon rolled up the sleeves to his thin button down. 

“The property is on Beacon Hill in Boston, facing the Boston Common. It belonged to a member of an elite class at the time– a Boston Brahmin– by the name of George Parkman, hence the name of the building. He was a successful surgeon that graduated from Harvard, and used his skills around Massachusetts during the War of 1812.

But, the guy ended up being murdered. He went missing one afternoon while he was collecting debts in 1849. A Harvard professor by the name of John White Webster killed Parkman in a lab, dismembered the body, and incinerated the body in a furnace. What’s interesting about the trial, however, is that it was the first trial to use dental records and forensics to make a conviction.”

“Jesus,” Y/N gritted her teeth at the gruesome details, but was also very attracted to Namjoon’s intelligence. “So Parkman wasn’t murdered in his home, but in a lab at Harvard?”

“Yeah, but apparently the poor bastard haunts his old house. Spirits work in mysterious ways. To be murdered so brutally and abruptly, sometimes human spirits don’t even know they’re dead. That could be the case, here,” Jeongguk picked his nails, lip ring sucked into his mouth.

“So, you’re not getting any demonic vibes?” Namjoon drawled sarcastically, his sharpened canines flashing. 

“Well, no. Not from what we’ve gathered so far. This could be just a simple haunting, maybe Parkman’s just agitated and confused as to why there are so many random people in his house, if he doesn’t know he’s dead yet. Judy’s email mentioned the manager brought in a quack group of investigators that stirred shit up. They probably instigated Parkman into being even angrier, which caused the uptick in activity. Just my guess, though. I’d have to physically be there to feel it out,” Jeongguk responded calmly, itching around his new antlers beginning to grow. 

“Didn’t you instigate at the Sanders’?” Namjoon probed further, Jeongguk rolling his eyes to the sky. 

“That was different, that was a demonic haunting. Provoking human spirits is just sad and pathetic. Usually you can get rid of them or help them out with simple EVP,” Jeongguk enunciated like he was talking to a five-year-old. Y/N counted it as a miracle Namjoon hadn’t knocked Jeongguk’s block off yet. 

“Was there anything else that was reported besides the apparition of George Parkman, Y/N?” Namjoon ignored Jeongguk, his teeth drawing beads of blood to his lower lip so he wouldn’t say something uncouth to the elk hybrid. 

“Not that Judy mentioned in her email, just general hostile and creepy energy. Jeongguk is probably right, the spirit of Parkman may just be angry that he was provoked. I don’t think we’ll have to return as many times as we did with the Sanders’ case, unless there are surprises waiting for us.”

“It is a pretty large building, though. It might be easier if we split up, during the investigation,” Jeongguk pointed out. 

“That’s fine–”

“No.”

Y/N and Namjoon spoke at the same time, the wolf hybrid firmly cutting her off with immediate disagreement. That familiar, calculative glint in Namjoon’s eyes hardened his softer features, Y/N’s mouth drying up.

“Would you rather be there for six hours, or three, wolf? There’s one of us for each floor.”

“Would you rather get socked in the face when I have to carry Y/N out of the building god forbid something unpredictable happens, or stay together the whole time? This isn’t up for discussion. We won’t split up.”

“Wasn’t aware this was a dictatorship, not a democracy,” Jeongguk muttered under his breath, but did not argue with Namjoon any further. Namjoon’s stern, unquestionable dominance had Y/N squirming in her seat. “Whatever, we’ll stay together. Lighten up, wolf. Where’s that thing we got at the market this morning?”

Namjoon’s jaw slowly began to unclench, reaching backwards for a little bag behind him on the kitchenette. Gingerly, he dumped the contents of the bag on the table in front of Y/N and Jeongguk, the elk hybrid moving his combat boots off the surface and sitting up straight. The receipt fluttered to the carpeted floor, and whatever was in the bag made a clattering noise then it hit the table. Vision focusing, Y/N stared at the items with confusion. 

In front of her were three antique rings, all identical. Made of dark, pounded silver, each ring had a rough-hewn green stone set in the center. Picking one up, Y/N looked closely, the window beside her illuminating the green stone and making it shimmer. 

“Peridot rings. They’re supposed to be especially protective around spirits. The woman at the farmer’s market recommended them,” Namjoon went from predator to sweetheart in a matter of seconds, the tips of his ears turning red. “One for each of us.”

“Matching rings! Cute!” Y/N couldn’t help herself, sliding the ring on the fourth finger of her right hand. “So pretty. And functional! Thank you guys, this is really sweet.”

Swallowing back laughter at the sight of the two of them, ears turned back in embarrassment while they put their own rings on, they copied her by wearing them on the same finger. Y/N froze while she was admiring the rings on their fingers– Jeongguk had her sun sign tattooed on the very same digit. Struck again by the cosmic connection she had to each hybrid of hers, Y/N twisted the ring around her finger a few times, clearing her throat. 

“Okay, so should we start making a list of things we gotta bring to this investigation?”

“Don’t you have work tomorrow?” Yoongi watched Y/N carefully as she mixed up 8 different cocktails that night, one that was unique to each individual in the house. His tail was flicking back and forth in sharp shapes, something it did when he was on the edge of disapproval. 

“No, I took some time off this week. You can probably guess why,” Y/N replied, sliding his cocktail across the island for him: Hennessy, soda water, and a lemon slice. “We might as well cheers.”

“Hell yeah!” Hoseok waltzed in doing a moonwalk, fresh from the shower. His auburn hair appeared even darker red when it was wet, flashing Y/N a grin when he located his simple rum-and-coke. “Nothing like getting hammered while waiting for a shoe to drop!”

“I wish you’d grow a filter,” Yoongi pinched the bridge of his nose, Y/N not caring in the slightest. She liked that Hoseok said whatever popped into his mind. “Where is everyone?”

“Probably upstairs. You didn’t check your phone? I suggested a game night in the billiard’s room. We can play pool, I set up the card table for poker, I even have Candy Land. There’s darts, too, but I don’t know if I trust Jeongguk not to throw one at Hoseok.”

“I’d like to see him try,” Hoseok took a hearty swig of his cocktail, pushing up the sleeves of his dark green crewneck sweatshirt. “Goth Bambi~”

Hoseok sang off-key, scampering from the bar cart and dashing up the stairs to push Jeongguk’s buttons. Shaking her head, Y/N started loading up a tray with the drinks, and a separate one with bottles in case anyone wanted a top-off. 

“Can you get the bottles, angel?” Y/N’s voice was strained, trying extremely hard not to spill the six cocktails balanced on the tray in her arms. Easily, Yoongi scooped it up, Y/N envious of his hybrid strength and feline grace. “Show off.”

The billiard’s room was connected to the music room via a ‘secret door’, one that was disguised as a bookshelf. The door was closed more often than not to keep everything sufficiently soundproof while the piano was being played or Taehyung had the turntable going. With the bookcase open, going from room to room was a breeze. Navigating into the area carefully, the thick scent of leather invaded her nostrils, thanks to the massive sofas lining the room. It was a large space, about the size of the kitchen directly below it, filled with tabletop games, card tables, a minibar, and a TV that her cousins used to use for sports games.

“If he calls me Goth Bambi one more time,” Jeongguk approached her quickly, a cigarette hanging from his mouth, and swiped his gin and tonic from the tray. 

Y/N told him it was the only room in the house he could smoke in, as long as the windows were cracked. After all, her grandfather had a shelf of cigars in the corner he used to smoke and show off to his friends, back in the day. It would be a shame for him not to use the vintage ashtrays and table lighters. 

“Play nice,” Y/N warned, placing Seokjin’s chilled glass of white wine near the pool table, where Yoongi was showing him how to set up the balls. “Give this to Joon, okay?”

Handing Jeongguk a small tumbler of whiskey, identical to the one she poured for Jimin, Jeongguk scoffed and returned to Namjoon, who was inquisitively staring at the poker table. Over the past few months, Namjoon was able to steadily increase his tolerance for alcohol, and found that he liked the same whiskey as the coyote hybrid the most. The shared preference made her smile. 

She left the remaining two drinks– Jimin’s whiskey and Taehyung’s glass of Cabernet– on the minibar. The former was still in the shower after a long afternoon of exercising the horses, and the latter, last Y/N heard from him, was wrapping up something in his darkroom. Y/N still wasn’t sure that he’d accept her ‘game night’ invitation, but because he hadn’t been hiding away lately, she let herself get her hopes up carelessly. 

When Jimin and Taehyung ended up traipsing in, both of them appeared shocked by the rowdiness. Not that anyone was drunk yet, but everyone felt like it was okay to let loose made for a merry atmosphere. Y/N recruited Jimin to be on her team playing pool against Seokjin and Yoongi, which was sort of evil of her considering Jimin had once told her he used to hustle people at pool halls in Montana. Seokjin and Yoongi didn’t have to know that, though. 

Taehyung took up the task of going back and forth to the music room to switch out records when they ran out. To Y/N’s hazy surprise, it seemed like he was actually bartending, too, which had her feeling like she should check outside to see if pigs were soaring through the air. Either that, or he was trying to liquor everyone up so the other hybrids wouldn’t be so stiff around him. 

At the other end of the game room, Namjoon, Jeongguk, and Hoseok were caught in the middle of an intense darts battle. Hoseok’s shouts mingled with Jeongguk’s, and the more liquor the two of them consumed, the louder they got. Y/N wasn’t worried about an actual fight breaking out, considering Hoseok would win one round, and then Jeongguk would win the next– it was only poor Namjoon who failed to win a single round due to either his clumsiness or poor aim. He tapped out after the fourth round in favor of watching the game of pool, which was much less intense but still entertaining to witness. 

“Wow, you guys suck,” Yoongi took a sip of his drink, pointing his pool cue at Jimin and Y/N, Y/N stepping on Jimin’s foot after their third loss. Time to reveal the hustler.

“Ugh. Maybe it’s just me. Joonie, jump in for me? I wanna get some fresh air, it’s hot in here.”

Namjoon stood, wobbling on his feet a little, tossing back the last of his whiskey before surprisingly accepting the pool cue from Y/N. 

“But I’ve never played,” Namjoon muttered, mystified when Jimin offered cue chalk to him. 

“You’ll catch on. Aren’t you some kind of genius?” Yoongi raised a brow, Seokjin’s squeaky laugh sounding on the tipsy side.

 Namjoon huffed, embarrassed, Y/N walking past Taehyung who was shuffling a deck of cards, and Jeongguk refilling his drink. The only one unaccounted for was Hoseok, who Y/N assumed was in the bathroom. Humming, she ambled down the hall to one of the bedrooms that didn’t belong to one of the boys in search of a balcony to sneak a cigarette on. Not that she’d be able to hide the scent, but she’d handle that later.

Finding the creamsicle orange unclaimed bedroom, the space smelling like fresh paint still, Y/N stumbled when she saw that the balcony door was open already, someone standing outside and leaning over the railing on their forearms. Eyes adjusting, she studied the shape of the ears protruding from the figure’s crown, an eyebrow lifting.

“What are you doing out here, social butterfly? Battery drained?” Y/N stepped out onto the balcony, Hoseok’s fluffy auburn hair finally dried. 

“No, no. Just licking my wounds,” Hoseok kept his gaze on the moon, his nose twitching when Y/N stood close to him. “Jeongguk kicked my ass at darts.”

“Sorry to hear. That’ll give him a chip on his shoulder,” Y/N snickered, the fox hybrid’s shoulders shaking but his usual boisterous laugh inaudible. “Is something up? You’re quiet.”

“Nah, it’s nothing, darling.”

“Doesn’t sound like nothing, Foxy.”

“Shit doesn’t get by you, huh?” Hoseok shook his head, swirling the remnants of his rum-and-coke around in his glass contemplatively. “Jus’ thinking about that guy.”

“What guy–” Y/N was confused for a moment, but the look on Hoseok’s face had it all flooding back. “Oh. Harold Bass.”

“Yeah, him or whatever. I try to keep it outta sight outta mind, but I don’t know. I guess I have some abandonment issues to sort out, or whatever you call it.”

“That’s understandable,” Y/N responded softly, her heart breaking. “I’m sorry this is happening, honey. I wish I could just make it go away.”

“I know you do,” Hoseok sighed, bumping his hip against hers. “I mean, this situation sucks, but it’s bringing back shit I should probably get to the root of.”

“What do you mean? If you don’t mind sharing, of course,” Y/N asked, forgetting all about a cigarette. “You can use me as a sounding board, if you want.”

Hoseok managed a chuckle, ruffling Y/N’s hair like she was a little kid. 

“Back when I was young, that wolf hybrid ruined a potential adoption for me. Remember when I told you that?”

“Uh-huh. Fucker.”

“Pretty much,” Hoseok agreed, draining the rest of his glass. “I guess that sort of changed how I look at adoptions afterwards. From then on, I’d ruin every adoption attempt for myself on purpose. I just didn’t want… how do I put this. I think I didn’t want to accept the possibility that I could be adopted and then discarded. That shit happens all the time to fox hybrids, most people don’t trust them. So I wanted to eliminate that possibility entirely.”

Hoseok took a breath, eyes still on the moon. Y/N just listened, the way Hoseok’s jaw was pulsing told her he wasn’t quite finished. 

“But when you adopted me, I couldn’t do anything about it. Gerry’s wasn’t like a normal shelter, there were no interviews or meetings beforehand, and besides, I was shifted,” Hoseok seemingly braced himself, gripping the balcony’s ledge. “Part of me was relieved because you seemed harmless, but another part of me was wondering if you would break my heart. I prepared for the worst– that you’d dump me back at that shelter after a few days, once you reality sunk in and you didn’t like my personality. I don’t know. All this stuff is just coming back.”

Y/N didn’t know what to say. Hoseok grimaced, tapping his fingers along the balcony railing, his muscles taut when Y/N slipped her arms around his waist from behind, resting her chin on his shoulder. The fabric of his sweatshirt was saturated with his woodsy, natural scent, Y/N nearly purring when she breathed it in. The fox hybrid relaxed, Y/N feeling his tail brush between her legs, and she looked up at the moon with him. 

“Even if I didn’t love your personality, which I do love, I wouldn’t have brought you back there. But I understand why your mind went there. Years of thinking a certain way can be tricky to let go of,” Y/N squeezed his trim waist, still focused on the moon. “But let’s start here. I won’t abandon you, not ever. When your thoughts go in that direction, remember that simple truth.”

There was silence, nothing but the wind blowing through the willow branches in the backyard. Hoseok exhaled shakily, his throat clogging up when he tried to formulate a response. Never quite at a loss for words, Hoseok’s voice came out as a rasp.

“Y/N?”

“Hmm?”

“I think you’re sort of like my favorite person ever.”

Hoseok internally cringed, unable to believe that was the best he could come up with, managing to peel his back from Y/N’s chest and turn to face her sheepishly. There was a look of surprise that flashed across her features before she recovered smoothly, poking the crater above the corner of his mouth.

“I think you’re sort of like my favorite fox hybrid ever, Hoseok. No, actually, I know you are, sunshine,” Y/N captured his hand, tangling their fingers together. Hoseok had an odd fluttering sensation in his gut, Y/N tugging him back towards the house. “Hey. You ever play poker?”

“Huh?” Hoseok spluttered, the change in subject taking him off guard though not particularly in an unwelcome way. “You gonna teach me?”

“I’ll show you a few tricks. You gotta get back at Jeongguk, after all.”

Hoseok realized quickly what Y/N was doing– cheerily letting things go so he wouldn’t wallow for the rest of the night. Hoseok didn’t like to beat dead horses, preferring to bounce back as quickly as he could. A part of him wondered if Y/N had figured that out about him, and was attempting to prevent him from standing on a metaphorical ledge. Tightening his hold on her small hand in his, Hoseok let her lead him into the light.

“Clever girl,” Hoseok praised, smirking at the way Y/N stumbled over her own feet. “You deal. I don’t trust him to shuffle correctly.”

 “I can’t believe this thing works,” Y/N muttered, sliding bottle of water after bottle into the vintage minifridge. 

The morning after game night, she decided to stock up the guest house for anything her and Seokjin might… need. She started with the obvious; snacks and drinks, comfortable bedding, towels and whatnot. Y/N didn’t know where to go from there, once all of Seokjin’s favorite snacks were in place, worrying her lower lip when she sunk down onto the loveseat across from the kitchenette. Too shy to ask Seokjin for any additional information about his rut, Y/N turned to the internet instead. Her main concern was somehow letting Seokjin down– whether it was her being unable to keep up with him, or not knowing enough about being able to take care of him. 

“Ugh, Reddit. Staying away from those mouth breathers,” Y/N scoffed to herself, scrolling through her cursory Google search of ‘hybrid ruts with human partners’. Y/N clicked on a link, gnawing on her nails as the page loaded. “Medical journal. Promising.”

Ruts or heats are a natural cycle that all hybrids experience when they reach sexual maturity. For years, the cycle can be managed by the hybrid alone, but this can change when a hybrid has a romantic partner, and drastically change if they claim a mate. 

For hybrids that choose to spend a cycle with a partner that’s a human, a few things need to be considered by that human. First, contacting their doctor for supplements is essential. Supplements provided will ensure the human gets enough vitamins, increase their stamina, and trigger similar symptoms that their hybrid counterpart experiences during their cycle. These supplements should be taken for two weeks prior to the hybrid’s cycle. 

It is important for the human to remember that ruts or heats heighten animalistic instinct in a hybrid. The purpose of the cycle is to breed or be bred, and the hybrid will attempt to do so successfully. Of course, when birth control is used, this can be avoided– but nonetheless, the baser instincts of the hybrid will think of nothing but reproduction. Humans should make sure they are using birth control during the cycle if pregnancy is undesired. 

The cycle will heighten the temperature of the hybrid’s blood, so they may appear feverish, much like when they need to scent. This is normal and not something to be concerned about. Having plenty of ventilation in the room is necessary, as is enough water or electrolyte drinks. Items that bring your hybrid comfort are recommended to have around the area, such as blankets, sentimental objects, or their favorite movies. 

Finally, limit interruptions if possible. While the purpose of the cycle is reproduction, it is a deeply intimate time to the hybrid. Their partner is the only thing that matters to them, and interaction with others could warrant possessive and even dangerous behavior towards the person who interrupts. Privacy is a priority to most hybrids, so make arrangements to avoid interruption. 

“Sweet Jesus,” Y/N’s heart was racing, still processing the words ‘breed or be bred’. 

On top of that, it would be somewhat of an awkward conversation to have with her doctor to get the supplements, but she’d have to get them right away. Seokjin’s rut was fast approaching, and she only had about three weeks to fill the prescription and begin to take them. However, the thought of the supplements augmenting her stamina to keep up with Seokjin was immediately comforting. 

Thinking she did all she could at the moment, Y/N called her doctor as she headed back towards the house, focusing on admiring the dandelions studding the grass rather than the odd conversation about the supplements. The kitchen was eerily empty, Y/N growing suspicious until she remembered her dad swung by earlier to take the boys to their dental appointments. With a sigh, she prayed to the sky none of them had any issues with their teeth, wondering how to keep herself entertained until everyone was home.

Deciding to do some housework, Y/N hauled her ass upstairs to throw a load of laundry in. However, when she got to the top of the stairs, she paused by Taehyung’s dark room. There was a large stack of frames wrapped in paper, Y/N able to tell that they were the portraits Taehyung took months ago. He must have been able to take them home for Y/N, which she had begged him to many times. Reflecting on what exactly made him want to bring them home then, she abandoned her quest to put laundry away in Jeongguk’s room in favor of a quick DIY project. 

“Where the fuck did I put that hammer?” Y/N sucked in her cheeks, rummaging around in the supply closet for what she needed. Cursing again when she bumped her hip against a step ladder, she shook off the pain and located a box of nails on the shelf. Singing a tune, Y/N methodically unwrapped the portraits, grinning at the one of Jimin. “Oh, he’s so cute.”

Luckily, she remembered the order that Taehyung had originally arranged the photographs during the particular expo he displayed them, so she decided to copy his vision and hang them that way. The wall in between the music room and the dark room was large enough for her to put all nine of the frames, so she started mapping out the spots with a stray pencil. With a grunt, she placed the picture of the house in the center, making sure it wasn’t crooked. Getting lost in the task, Y/N’s heart felt full as she admired the photos of her boys. When she was halfway through the process, the front door downstairs banged open, Y/N cringing.

“Motherfucker,” Y/N pictured Jeongguk blasting through the door like he always did, not giving a flying fuck about the antique stained glass. “I’m up here if anyone is looking!”

“I heard the ‘motherfucker’ remark,” Jeongguk, predictably, barreled up the stairs in his heavy combat boots. “Namjoon had a cavity. Can you stop filling him up on the pastries now?”

“Oh no, is he okay? Did he get it filled?” Y/N panicked, setting the portrait of Hoseok down urgently. 

“I’m fine,” Namjoon appeared on the stairs, rubbing his jaw with a slight pout. “Hurt.”

“Sorry, Joon Bug,” Y/N frowned, Jeongguk helping her out by hanging the portrait that was up high. “There’s Advil in my room if you need it.” Namjoon did, in fact, need it. He disappeared with a swish of a tail, Jeongguk snickering at him. 

“Need help screwing your piercings back in?” Y/N decided to test the waters and be bold, Jeongguk blinking stupidly as soon as the words left her mouth. Appearing like he was attempting to recover, Jeongguk cleared his throat, an eyebrow lifted. 

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Jeongguk replied, crossing his inked arms over his chest. “I think I can manage myself, doll.”

“Suit yourself,” Y/N shrugged, going back to hanging Hoseok’s portrait on the wall. “I’ll be here in case you change your mind, Bambi.”

“You–” Jeongguk spluttered, taken aback by her blatant, flirtatious banter. “You know what? Fine. Gonna shower, see you at dinner.”

“Mm-hmm…”

Hearing him stalk away, a nail in her mouth, Y/N smirked to herself. Maybe her game wasn’t so bad after all.

“Oh, you’re–” A new voice met her ears, Y/N peering over her shoulder curiously. Not that she had to guess who was speaking, his voice distinct and instantly recognizable to her. “You’re putting them up? Here?”

Taehyung, in an oversized jean jacket and cargo pants, was gawking at the photographs, wringing his hands together. His hair was so curly and wild that afternoon that it completely disguised his rounded ears. 

“Yeah, you didn’t tell me you brought these home! I was so excited to see them when I came up here to do laundry,” Y/N hung up the last portrait, Jimin’s, and fondly ran her fingers over the curves of the coyote hybrid’s face. “Is the spot I chose okay?”

“Y-yeah,” Taehyung approached her slowly, like he was approaching a crocodile or something. “You put them up like I did.”

“Uh-huh. I think I got the order right, but feel free to correct me. Ah, they look so good. I love these so much,” Y/N gushed, unthinkingly passing her hand over Taehyung’s back. He didn’t flinch away, thankfully, but he was blinking rapidly at the contact. “My handsome boys… ugh, it looks perfect. New favorite part of the house.”

“You like them that much?”

“Like them? I love them! How could I not?” Y/N snorted, booping Namjoon’s nose through the glass frame. “You’re talented, Tae. Besides, these pictures are all of the important people in my life. There was a reason I was begging you to bring these home for months.”

Taehyung was staring at her analytically, his straight eyelashes brushing his cheekbone. Y/N didn’t notice that he was staring, however, too busy admiring the portraits. His heart ached when he realized that Y/N actually remembered how he hung the frames at the Christmas expo, and took enough care to replicate it on their wall at home.  

“Sorry I didn’t bring them home sooner, Y/N,” Taehyung murmured, finally snagging her attention when he called her name. “Thank you for putting them up.”

“Ah, don’t apologize. Just promise me you’ll always bring your pieces home so I can display them,” Y/N glanced up at him, struck by how beautiful he was all of a sudden. She missed him. 

“Okay, I promise,” Taehyung whispered, using an index finger to cross over his heart. The action was playful, in stark contrast to the morose way he had been carrying himself for weeks. Patting his back once more, Y/N scooped up the nails and hammer to shove back into the supply closet. 

“Y/N, I can’t find the Advil,” Namjoon shouted from downstairs, a slight whine in his voice. 

“Be down in a second, Bug,” Y/N snorted, picturing his frustrated pout. “What do you feel like for dinner, Tae?”

“You’re asking me?” Taehyung was confused, adjusting the collar of his flannel nervously. 

“Well, yeah. You want some takeout? Or anything in particular I can make?” 

“Um… Thai food?” Taehyung spoke very slowly, Y/N cocking her head curiously. 

“Do you want Thai food or are you just suggesting it because it’s my favorite, Tae?” Y/N teased, surprise flashing over his face. 

“No, no, I like it too! I swear!” Taehyung put his hands up, Y/N giggling at his defense. “Or if nobody wants that… Korean food?”

“Let’s go with that. I could definitely tear up some kimchi jjigae,” Y/N cheered, somehow knowing that that was what Taehyung really wanted. “Alright, honey. I’m gonna help Namjoon hunt for the Advil. Text me what you want from the restaurant, okay?”

Taehyung didn’t answer verbally, simply nodding– and for some reason– looking her up and down like he was trying to memorize her figure. Flashing him a smile, Y/N waved cheerily as she raced down the stairs. 

“I swear I looked here,” Namjoon complained, his ears flat when Y/N pulled the bottle of pills out of her medicine cabinet. He was still rubbing his jaw, Y/N fighting back a coo at the sight of him. 

“It was sort of hidden behind the jar of cotton balls. No worries, Bug. Just take two of those!” 

“Two?”

“Yeah, Joonie. You’re a big guy, you gotta take two,” Y/N chuckled, filling a paper cup with water for him. Y/N wasn’t exactly how tall Namjoon was, but he had to be at least six foot four. Hybrids tended to be taller than humans anyways, but Namjoon’s height was still startling from time to time. 

“I’m trusting you not to poison me,” Namjoon narrowed his eyes, apparently cracking a joke. She watched him through the mirror toss the pills back, following the way his throat bobbed when he swallowed. 

“Why would I poison you? You’re too precious to me, silly,” Y/N grouched, poking him repeatedly on his sweater-clad chest. The wolf hybrid caught her wrist after the third poke, his amber eyes burning. 

“You mean that?” He asked quietly, thumb brushing over her wrist bone. With a tiny intake of air, Y/N smiled at Namjoon gently, curling her fingers around his thumb. Y/N knew that Namjoon, as a wolf hybrid, needed consistent reassurances of loyalty, and whenever he got it, he both glowed and became unsure.

“I mean it, of course I mean it. Come on, Bug. I’ll make you an ice pack, you keep rubbing your jaw,” Y/N squeezed his thumb, and the intense desire to kiss him had her shoving down the sensation aggressively. “How’s japchae sounding to you tonight?”

“You’re ordering from Haju? Uh… I want to try the knife cut noodles,” Namjoon brightened up, letting Y/N drag him along by his thumb. 

“You can order anything you want, that’s our policy in this house,” Y/N pushed him onto a barstool in the kitchen, blowing a kiss to Yoongi making tea on the stove. “Angel, do you know where that fabric ice pack went? Joon had a cavity, I think he should ice his jaw.”

“Third drawer to the left of the stove, baby,” Yoongi responded without looking up from the kettle he was standing over, instantly beginning to purr when Y/N pressed a kiss on the nape of his neck. “Take it easy on the sweets from now on, wolf.”

Namjoon snarled, hair on his tail standing on edge, though his fingertips were inching towards the cookie jar on the island, so Yoongi was correct to warn him. 

“I wouldn’t do that, Joonie. Wait a few days to have sweets–” Y/N began, handing him the ice pack before her speech was cut off by her phone ringing in her pocket. The caller ID showed that it was Ben, which had her pulse galloping. “Oh. One sec.”

“Ben, hi. You’re on speaker, Yoongi and Namjoon are here,” Y/N swallowed thickly, praying for some good news. Namjoon was frozen in his seat, the ice pack pressed to his jaw, while Yoongi shakily poured himself a mug of tea. “Um. Any news?”

“Hey, guys. I’m sorry, this man is a fuckin’ prick.”

“Oh, great. What the fuck did he do?” Y/N put her head in her hands, Yoongi petting the back of her head gingerly. 

“Even with the restraining order, he still wants to take you to court. Y/N, I don’t want you to worry. He cannot take your hybrids. If anything, if his lawyer miraculously ends up being better than me, you might have to pay him what he gave Gerry for the deposits. Oh, and when this blows over, I can help you sue Gerry for giving up private information,” Ben sounded like he was furiously taking notes on the other line, though his tone was soothing. 

“R-really? You’re certain he can’t take them?”

“I’m positive. The only way that would be possible would be if his ‘deposit’ was more than what you paid to adopt them, and even then, the chances would be slim to zero. The jury would be in your favor, Y/N.”

“Ben, you’re not sugar coating things for me, are you?” Y/N leaned into Yoongi, his sweet cologne curling around her. 

“No, and you know I’d never. Not about something like this. Listen, Y/N, Yoongi, Namjoon– you’ll be perfectly safe. I’m gonna give that prick the fight of his life, if you don’t kill him first, Y/N,” Ben replied, the prickly sound of him scratching his beard coming through the receiver, before adding quickly– “Not that I’m encouraging that, Y/N. Stay as far away from him as you can.”

“Of course. We’ve been sticking close to home,” Y/N felt a weight lifting from her shoulders, even Yoongi relaxing beside her, his ever-constant purring resuming. “Thanks for everything, Ben. I love you.”

“Love you too, kid. Take care of each other, alright? I’ll call you when I have an update.”

Breathing out slowly, Y/N pet the back of Yoongi’s head when she hung up. 

“That’s good news. We’ll be okay,” Y/N said encouragingly, Yoongi melting into her touch. “I’m gonna order some dinner, then we can pick out a movie or something. Maybe have another poker tournament. I don’t know, I feel like we should celebrate.”

“One step closer to getting that motherfucker out of our lives,” Yoongi agreed, glaring at Namjoon when the wolf hybrid tried to get himself a cookie again. “I wish I could kill him.”

“Me too, but alas,” Y/N sighed, wagging her finger at Namjoon. “Joon, I’m serious. Cool it with the cookies for a few days.”

“What were you doing upstairs? I heard loud banging,” Yoongi changed the subject while Y/N began compiling an online order of an ungodly amount of Korean food. 

“Oh, I put up Tae’s pictures. You know, the portraits of all of us. I’m so happy, they look beautiful…” Y/N answered distractedly, Yoongi’s tail winding around her leg. “Hmm. You think Seokjin would want naengmyeon? I think he’d like that… he did tell me once he’d try anything… but yeah! Check out the pictures when you can. All of my beautiful boys.”

Distantly, she heard Namjoon grunt, and when she cast a look at him, his face was rather flushed and he was gawking at the window into the backyard. He was always rather bashful with compliments, something that endeared him to her. 

“Can you get me bulgogi? Please,” Hoseok made an appearance, drawing out the syllables of his words. “My gums hurt. I think the tech scraped them too hard.”

“At least you didn’t have a drill in your mouth,” Namjoon responded to Hoseok’s complaint bitterly, and to Hoseok’s credit, he managed a merry laugh. It seemed like, those days, Hoseok wasn’t intimidated by Namjoon any more. Leave it to a stressful situation to bring everyone together. 

“You’re very brave, wolf,” Yoongi drawled, sipping his tea placidly. 

“I missed you guys so much today,” Y/N snorted, the lack of their banter during the afternoon striking her all of a sudden. Hoseok, on his way to the fridge, pinched her cheek like an elderly aunt, Y/N rolling her eyes. When she turned, she noticed Taehyung distractedly organizing items on the coffee bar, staring at her strangely again. She decided she’d take that over him avoiding her any day, adding the stew he wanted to the order and getting him extra rice. 

Taehyung was pacing around his room like a madman. If it went on for much longer, he could see the floorboards taking on impressions of his footprints. Stopping by the window, he froze when he saw Y/N ambling in the direction of the pond in the backyard, where the guesthouse was. While no one explicitly said anything, all the hybrids knew– it was all in Seokjin’s scent. Y/N was probably preparing that space for the two of them to get privacy during the jaguar hybrid’s rut. Taehyung would be a liar if he didn’t admit he was nearly boiling alive in his own jealousy. 

“Look at her. Hauling heavy shit out there all by herself,” Taehyung rested his forehead on the cool glass pane, biting down on his lip when she stumbled over a stray stone, almost dropping the space heater she was carrying. 

Taehyung realized a simple truth. Y/N loved them all, he knew it. He knew it, but he had been too terrified to confront her about it, to confirm whether or not she loved him like he had grown to love her. Cursing, Taehyung sprung into action when Y/N tripped again, this time sending her into the grass. Like a bat out of hell, he sprinted down the stairs and out into the yard without a single thought, not aware that he could even move that fast. 

Y/N was still reeling in the grass, the space heater beside her, the fabric of her floral skirt fanning out around her. Her eyes widened when she saw Taehyung hurrying over to her, his chest heaving. 

“Y/N,” Taehyung crouched, pushing strands of hair in her face aside. Stiffening, he caught the scent of her blood, heart stopping dead in his chest as he looked her over. “You’re hurt!”

“...huh? Tae?” Y/N was confused, like the rock she had tripped over hit her on the head. Was she dreaming? Was Taehyung really the one running trembling hands over her body?

“Your leg,” Taehyung sounded pained, spotting a jagged cut on her shin. “Why didn’t you ask for help? Where is everybody?”

“The store… needed a few things. Joonie, Jeongguk…” Y/N, dazedly, pointed off to the distance, probably the driveway where the van was parked. Taehyung was too busy staring at the blood rolling down her leg. “I’m okay. I’ll get a bandaid after I bring this space heater to the–”

She was interrupted by Taehyung removing his red flannel, tearing strips of fabric from the bottom of it with his teeth. Blinking at his sharp canines, Y/N was sufficiently shut up, watching the Kodiak hybrid mop up her blood with a concentrated expression. His grip around her calf was tender, but Y/N could tell he was irritated with her as he tied the makeshift bandage around her leg. 

“Can you stand?” Taehyung caught her eyes, trying not to drown in the color of them. Based on her scent, Taehyung knew she could tell he was ticked. “Let me help you up. No, I’ll carry that to wherever you’re bringing it.”

Taehyung brought Y/N to her feet by hooking his hands under her armpits, her skirt fluttering in the wind as she held onto his shoulders for support. Gazing up at him, Taehyung noticed how easy it would be to lean down and kiss her. Clearing his throat, he released her, bending to scoop up the space heater. 

“O-oh. Thank you,” Y/N whispered, Taehyung able to hear how fast her heart was racing. It got his hopes up. 

“I’m assuming you wanna bring it there,” Taehyung gestured to the guest house by the pond, Y/N humming in agreement. “Seokjin’s rut coming up?”

“Ah– um. Yeah. I suppose it’s obvious, bringing all of these things out here,” Y/N said awkwardly, noting that Taehyung was slowing down his pace so she could keep up with him. Taehyung didn’t reply, letting Y/N open the door to the small building, the Kodiak hybrid strolling in and placing the space heater next to the loveseat. 

“It’s nice in here,” Taehyung offered, taking a good look around. Y/N had put all of Seokjin’s favorite comforts in the space, the jaguar hybrid’s scent coming heavily off of the fuzzy blankets, piles of his pajamas, and even the stuffed animal he often carried around. 

“Yeah, it is. I totally forgot this was such an awesome space. We can probably use it this summer to watch movies,” Y/N began to recover from her stumble, straightening out the stack of DVDs on the coffee table. “I think that’ll be fun. I’m looking forward to spending summer with you guys. We can make day trips to the beach.”

Taehyung made a lap of the circular room, peeking up at the loft where the bed was. Y/N kept rambling to fill the silence, which was making her somewhat nervous. 

“Plus we’ll have the garden in full bloom, so I can teach you all how to dry herbs. Jimin says he knows how to make jam, so he can pass that knowledge onto us, too. He’s been working so hard on the greenhouse and the garden beds, it’s going to be the best,” Y/N’s gaze was far away as she looked out the window, admiring the garden beds a few yards away. Taehyung caught that scent again– the syrupy sweet one that Y/N took on when she complimented them. 

“You must really love him,” Taehyung remarked quietly, referring to Jimin but his eyes on Seokjin’s stuffed alpaca. He wondered if Y/N would take the bait as she almost broke her neck to stare at him. 

“H-him? Seokjin?”

“Jimin,” Taehyung shook his head, finally mustering up his courage. “Seokjin too, obviously. But you love Jimin as well.”

Y/N’s mouth opened and closed, completely caught off guard. Taehyung’s confidence surged when she had no reply, taking a step closer to her. 

“How can you t-tell?” Dizzy, Y/N saw something vulnerable swimming in his carmine eyes, astonished that they were finally having the conversation the two of them were skirting around for weeks.

“Scent. The way you talk about him. The way you look at him,” Taehyung rattled off, ticking the items off on his lithe fingers. “And it’s not just him. You love Hoseok, especially when he teases you. You talk about Namjoon like he hung the moon and you love Jeongguk despite his poor attitude.”

Y/N was too shocked for words, her hands shaking, so Taehyung continued. 

“And it just makes me wonder…”

“Wonder what?” Y/N found her voice, Taehyung taking one of her hands gingerly. 

“It makes me wonder if there’s any space left in your heart,” Taehyung whispered, plunging straight into the deep end, wanting to swallow the gasp Y/N made. “Do you love me?”

A tear slipped down Y/N’s cheek, unaware they even gathered in the first place. Swiftly, Taehyung brushed it away, his thumb warm on her skin. 

“Tell me, please,” Taehyung begged, unable to bear not belonging to her for a single moment further. 

“I love you,” Y/N’s voice cracked, wrapping her hand around Taehyung’s wrist and leaning her cheek into his palm. “There’s always been space for you in my heart. Always. Tae–”

“You love me?”

“Yes, so much,” Y/N was shaking like a leaf, heart threatening to break free from its cage, and to calm herself down and reassure her Kodiak hybrid, she pressed a kiss to the base of his palm. “I’m so sorry you thought I didn’t know.”

With a shuddering breath, Taehyung shut his eyes, letting go of her face in favor of winding his arms around her waist. He pulled her so close, he thought their souls would merge, Y/N melting into his chest and clutching at his white tee shirt. Nuzzling into the crook of her neck, Taehyung drank in her scent, sweeter than ever since he confirmed the reciprocation of his feelings. 

“I’m sorry, Tae. It would have been easier for you if I was braver. I love you. I’ll tell you every day from now on,” Y/N babbled into his chest, not caring that it was difficult to breathe with the way Taehyung was squeezing her. 

The Kodiak hybrid’s ears were practically ringing, he was so elated. He never felt that way before, and it was entirely overwhelming. He couldn’t wait a second longer, so lifting her body easily, he pressed her to the window and crashed his lips down onto hers. 

A muffled noise of surprise passed from Y/N’s mouth to his, Y/N’s arms around Taehyung’s neck to hold on tight. Pinned to the wall by the hybrid, Y/N was consumed by him, surrounded by his sandalwood cologne, and tasting honey on his tongue when he slipped it into her mouth. It was like he was trying to eat her whole, his kisses rough and all-consuming, and Y/N loved it. Carding a hand through his curls, she whimpered when he sucked on her lower lip.

Taehyung couldn’t get enough. Now that he had kissed her, he didn’t know how he could go another day without one. When his lungs started to ache from lack of oxygen, he paused, their lips centimeters apart. When he opened his eyes, Y/N was already looking at him. Cupping one of his cheeks in her hand, Y/N kissed his forehead softly, and when she pulled away, Taehyung was smiling at her, teeth and all. Y/N couldn’t remember the last time she saw it in all its glory, but she was delighted to see it once more. Taehyung wondered if he’d ever stop smiling when he ducked back down for another kiss. 

Please do not repost or translate my work. Thank you!

Taglist; @blancflms @grazysf @sbromp @jaxavance @sunderlight @ot7nem @mageprincess7 @wittyreader @drenix004 @mayla548 @skyys-universe @ddaeng-angmoh @trtlthts @exfolitae @kalala22 @xiusmarshmallow @bangtans-momma @zae007live @paigetj @singukieee @serendididy @lilacdreams-00 @dreamerwasfound @ninjacups @osakis-gf @itwillbealways-d @xthefuckerysquaredx @momowantscats @molshole @gooooooomz @uarmyhore @lopprhe @oopscoop @xicanacorpse @i-like-anime13 @hemziii @demarie04 @im-sinking-in-mud @talkyoongitome @bangtxnbxunch @primrose2507 @kihyunniesmonbebe @7evensin @lilmxchis @00ihatesnaku @neverthefirstchoice @missyoueverysingleday @cathy-1997 @prybts @doublebunv @milopenne @steadycreationangel @rinkud @breadcheeksseokjin @nikkiordonez12 @actualz0mbie @tinybasementmaker-blog @hufflepuffwriter1995

[cheoliehansolie]

The Hoodie

Summary: Wonwoo learns something interesting about you wearing his hoodies.

Word Count: ~2.8 k

Pairing: fem reader x Wonwoo

Warnings: Implied smut and a bit suggestive

an: I'm finally back after accidentally taking a break for a month. Thank you guys for waiting patiently <3. As always, if you liked reading this, please reblog or leave a comment. If you have any suggestions or you just want to talk, send me an ask and we can be friends 💕

To read more, check out my masterlist.

---

You woke up to the soft rays of sunlight filtering into your room through your blinds. Waking up to the warmth of sunlight on your cheeks had to be your favorite part of spring. Glancing at the clock on your bedside table, you shock yourself with how early you’ve woken up on a Saturday.

Normally you’re one to sleep until you absolutely need to get out of bed on the weekends, but today you’ve somehow managed to wake up at 7:30. Feeling proud of yourself, you decide to take this as your sign to be productive and to spend the day finally cleaning your apartment.

This past week had been hectic with work and the semester coming to an end that you barely had time to sleep, let alone clean your space. So, your apartment had been looking like a tornado blew through it for a while now and it definitely was not helping your mental state.

Deciding to bite the bullet, you shove your blanket from off your figure and force yourself out of bed. What? Just because you woke up early and decided to be productive in your head doesn’t mean that it’s not hard to get out of bed, especially when the mornings are still cold.

You rush into the bathroom to quickly brush your teeth and shower to warm yourself up. Once you’re done with your shower, you put on a pair of leggings and your hoodie (yeah, definitely yours and not your boyfriend’s).

As you’re tying your hair up into a ponytail, you make your way out of your room and into the living room. You immediately groan seeing all your college papers on your dining table which is serving as your makeshift desk, the trash on your kitchen counters, and the pile of dirty dishes in the sink.

Seeing the amount of overall filth in your living space, you were extremely tempted to just go back to bed and pretend you never had plans of cleaning, but you knew that if you didn’t clean your apartment now, you never would. So, you grab your phone, blast your cleaning playlist, and get to work.

—

It took you basically all morning just to clean your kitchen and it’s safe to say that morale was at an all time low. You collapsed onto your couch out of exhaustion and hunger. You hadn’t expected it to take so long to clean so you thought you could just eat breakfast after cleaning.

The second your body began relaxing on the couch, you heard a knock at your door. You laid there silently hoping that the person at your door would leave, but less than a minute later the knocking continued.

You let out a groan of frustration as you force yourself off the couch and make the trek to the front door less than a few feet away.

You swing open your front door, a frown still on your face. It takes you a second to register who’s at your door, but when you do, you’re left confused.

Wonwoo stands in front of you dressed casually a pair of gray sweatpants and a black tee shirt. You notice in one hand he’s holding a white plastic bag, which you can only assume contains take out.

“Wonwoo? What are you doing here?” you ask as you wrack your brain trying to remember if you had plans to see each other today.

“You weren’t answering any of my texts so I decided to stop by and make sure everything was okay.” he explains as you step aside letting him into your apartment.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I spent the past few hours cleaning. I haven’t been on my phone since I got up. I didn’t mean to worry you.” you say with your lips slightly down turned and eyebrows furrowed.

You felt bad for making him worry to the point that he felt the need to come to your apartment.

“Hey, it’s fine.” he says softly, noticing how upset you looked at yourself. “I wanted to see you anyways, so you not answering gave me an excuse to see you.”

Once Wonwoo took his shoes off, he finally registered what you looked like. His lips almost immediately turned up into a small smile as he realized that the hoodie you were wearing was none other than his own. He noticed the subtle flush in your cheeks, the thin sheen of sweat creating a film over your skin, and the way strands of hair were falling out of your ponytail. 

Noticing the fact that Wonwoo was just silently standing in your entryway, you ushered him deeper into your apartment. Honestly, you had noticed his eyes wandering over your figure and you couldn’t help but feel a bit embarrassed by the current state of your appearance. You and Wonwoo had been dating for about a year, but something about the way he looks at you makes you feel the same way you did during your first date.

“So, whatcha got in the bag?” you asked, looking pointedly at the plastic bag in his right hand.

“Oh, this? I picked up lunch from your favorite place. I thought you might’ve been sleeping or something when I texted you so I thought it would be nice to bring you some food.”

“Aww, thank you so much babe!” you exclaim in excitement. “Why don’t you go sit on the couch and I’ll just grab us some plates from the kitchen?”

Wonwoo gives you a nod as he makes his way to the couch. He places the bag of food on the table in front of him and he watches as you walk around the kitchen grabbing plates, utensils, and glasses of water for the two of you. He can’t help but coo every time you tug at the sleeves of his too large hoodie to grab everything.

“Why’re you looking at me like that?” you ask once you’ve joined your boyfriend on the couch.

“No reason. You just look cute in my hoodie, that’s all.” he says, a small smile of endearment grazing his lips.

You feel yourself flush at his statement and pull your hair out of your lopsided ponytail as an attempt to distract yourself from how flustered Wonwoo still makes you even after how long you’ve been dating.

“Let’s eat, shall we?” you ask, trying to steer the conversation to more neutral territory. 

Wonwoo can’t keep himself from smiling a little wider at your flustered state, but he decides to take pity on you and drops the subject. Just this once, though.

Soon enough, conversation flows easily between the two of you as you share your meal together. Before you know it, the plates in front of you are empty and there lies another thing left for you to clean. Just as you’re about to get up to clean the small mess in front of you (it merely is a drop of water in the ocean of a mess your apartment is), Wonwoo beats you to it and is stacking the dirty utensils in his hands.

“Wonwoo, I can clean it.” you whine when he motions for you to stay seated as he continues cleaning.

“You can rest on the couch. Didn’t you say that you spent the entire morning cleaning?” he asks.

“Yeah, but I -” before you can finish your sentence, Wonwoo cuts you off.

“No buts! You looked exhausted when I got here. The least I can do is clean up the mess I helped make. Besides, I’m not called the dishwashing fairy for nothing.” he says with a smile.

Before you can protest, Wonwoo gives you a pointed look and you realize there’s no way that you can change his mind so you collapse backwards onto your couch letting him do whatever he wants.

You’re left alone with your thoughts for the first time today with the soft clattering of dishes coming from the kitchen serving as white noise. You’re suddenly aware of how warm you feel and you feel as though you are overheating. 

You had spent the day either distracted by cleaning or distracted by Wonwoo that you didn’t realize the rise in temperature in your apartment. It was finally spring time and as much as you loved it, you despised how it would be so cold in the mornings and evenings but warm in the afternoons making it almost impossible to dress appropriately without freezing in the morning or melting in the afternoon.

Feeling sweat prickle on your skin, you decide the only thing you can do is change out of Wonwoo’s thick hoodie into a thin, flowy tee shirt.

When you get up to go change, Wonwoo can see you from your kitchen sink a few feet away and he’s instantly curious as to what you’re up to.

“Where’re you going, love?” he asks from the sink as he continues to scrub the plate in front of him.

“I’m gonna change into something thinner. It’s too warm to be wearing a hoodie right now.” you say as you stop at the entryway of your kitchen to respond to him.

“Why do you need to change for that, though?” he asks, taking his eyes off the plate in front of him to glance at you with his confused eyes.

“I just told you, I’m overheating.” you say, confused as to why he’s confused.

“Can’t you just take it off here?”

You feel heat rush to your face, and you’re now feeling warm from embarrassment.

“Well… I would but…” you trailed off, hoping that you would just disappear or he would drop the subject.

“But…?” Wonwoo asks, having finished washing the dishes and giving you his full attention.

You take a deep breath to steady yourself. Just say it quickly, it’s like ripping a bandaid off. you think to yourself.

In one breath, as quickly as you can, you say, “I would but I’m not wearing anything underneath.”

It takes Wonwoo a second to understand what you said, but when he does, less than ten seconds after the words left your mouth, you’re already in your room with the door closed behind you.

Wonwoo feels his cheeks heat up as he realizes that this entire day, including the past hour plus that the two of you spent together, the only thing separating your top half from the rest of the world was his hoodie. He originally thought you looked so cute drowning in his hoodie and while he still does, this new information changes his entire perception of the time you’ve spent together.

Meanwhile, you were pacing around your room silently screaming at yourself. I can’t believe I just told him that I was both shirtless and braless under his hoodie. Why would I do that? What if he thinks I’m weird? Or worse, what if I made him uncomfortable? 

Letting out a defeated groan, you force yourself to push all these worries out of your head. You decide that you can’t hide in your room forever, mainly because you know Wonwoo would come looking for you at some point. So, you change into a loose fitting shirt, take a deep breath, and step out of your room.

Your eyes immediately search the kitchen to see if Wonwoo is where you left him, but he’s not there anymore. You wander deeper into your apartment and you find Wonwoo sitting on your couch, casually scrolling on his phone. 

You don’t think he notices your presence and based on how calm he looks, you feel hopeful that he either a) forgot the conversation happened or b) didn’t think it was as much of a big deal as you made it out to be in your head. But when you sit on the other end of the couch and Wonwoo drops his phone to the side to look at you with a knowing smirk on his face, you realize that you were so, so, so wrong.

“So, you wanna talk about it?” Wonwoo asks with a teasing glint in his eyes.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” you respond, feigning innocence and looking anywhere but your boyfriend sitting a few inches away from you.

“Really? Because I seem to recall you saying that you weren’t wearing anything under my hoodie today.”

Your face flushes for the thousandth time today and you can’t help but feel a little guilty.

“Listen Wonwoo, I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable earlier. That wasn’t my intention.” you say, looking into his eyes earnestly.

“Wait, why are you apologizing?” he asks you confused.

“Because it’s obvious that I made you uncomfortable earlier.” 

“Babe, I don’t know why you would think I would feel uncomfortable by it. The only reason I didn’t respond was because I was just a little shocked, that’s all. If anything, it’s kinda hot now that I know that you’ve been walking around with nothing underneath my hoodie.”

Feeling embarrassed by assuming that Wonwoo was uncomfortable and by hearing his true feelings, you grab a throw pillow from your couch and bury your face into it.

“I can’t believe I embarrassed myself in front of you twice in one day.” you mumble into the pillow.

“Hey, this can’t be as embarrassing as when you tripped over Vernon’s bag and ended up spilling your drink on Mingyu’s lap.” Wonwoo says.

“I thought we all agreed to not bring that up anymore.” you whine as you hit him with the pillow in your hands.

“I’m just saying, you’ve done more embarrassing things in your life than telling me you're naked under my hoodie.”

“Wow, thank you so much Wonwoo. I feel so much better about myself.” you say sarcastically.

“Aww, babe I’m sorry.” he says as he reaches for your hands.

“Forget it.” you say, faking annoyance as you get up to go clean off your dining table turned desk.

“Babe.” Wonwoo whines as he rushes behind you and grabs your wrist.

Before you know it, Wonwoo tugs at your wrist pulling you close into his chest. Your breath hitches at the boldness of his actions and you peer up at him through your lashes to see what his next move is.

He removes his hand from your wrist and gently raises your chin so he can look into your eyes.

“I’m sorry babe.” he says.

When you’re about to open your mouth to tell him it’s fine, you’re silenced by his lips on yours. Deciding that you actually had nothing to say, you choose to melt into the kiss instead. 

Once the two of you part for air, you say “I guess you’re forgiven.”

“You don’t sound too confident about your answer.” he says, raising an eyebrow at you.

“Maybe I’m not confident in my answer. What’re you gonna do about it?” you challenge.

“Then let me make it up to you in a different way.” he says as he pulls you into another kiss.

It’s safe to say that you didn’t get any cleaning done for the rest of the day.

—

When you go over to Wonwoo’s place for movie night a few weeks later, Wonwoo is more than happy to see you wearing one of his hoodies you’ve taken from him.

While the two of you are cuddling together on the couch, Wonwoo can’t help but let his curiosity get the best of him. When you’re engrossed in the movie, Wonwoo takes his hand that was resting on your thigh and brings it up to the hem of hoodie loosely covering your frame.

This grabs your attention and you turn to him to look at him with your eyebrows furrowed. But Wonwoo’s eyes are fixed on the screen in front of you and it makes you wonder if you were just imagining things. Deciding that you were just being weird, you turn your attention back to the screen.

When Wonwoo notices that your attention is on the movie again, he takes that as his sign to move his hand again. He slips his hand under the hem of the hoodie and he slowly inches closer and closer to your chest.

Although your eyes were trained on the movie playing in front of you, all of your attention was on Wonwoo’s hand slowly grazing your skin as he made his way up your body. Your breath hitched when you felt his cold hand gently graze your bare breast and you turned to face Wonwoo.

He looked at you with a smirk on his lips and a mischievous glint in his eyes. Something told you that you wouldn’t know how the movie would end.

[foreingersgod]

Is this my shirt? . PB

pairing: paige bueckers x reader

giving you all a cliche little drabble to hold us over until i can finish “champagne coast” lol !! so apologies for how rushed this is!

you had been on paige’s mind all day. no matter what she was doing-trying to focus on drills at practice or listen to another one of kk’s ridiculous stories-you consumed her every waking thought.

the two of you hadn’t been able to spend much time together recently, despite living within the same walls. you had been occupied with your new internship whilst paige seemed to be out of the house more than usual. it had started to drain the both of you, having you both longing for each others company. it’d been about a week since you had a full night to yourselves and luckily, you both managed to have tonight open for some much needed quality time. paige was ecstatic to say the least, all she wanted was to reveal in your presence, no matter what that may entail.

she was taking the last turn to get to your apartment complex, mind still dancing with images of you. paige had never packed up her things and ran out of that gymnasium so quickly. now she was in her car, fingers restlessly tapping against the steering wheel as she made her way back to you. she full on sprinted the entire way to the door, turning off the ignition in a haste and grabbing her bag.

after finally stepping through the door and locking it behind her, paige toed off her shoes and set her bag somewhere off to the side. the house, she noticed, was dim with the only light being from living room lamp. typical considering you always hated the “big” light. the quiet notes of your reading playlist filled her ears almost instantly, traveling from somewhere in the bedroom. so she wasted no time in meandering down the hallway, footsteps heavy on the carpet as she approached the closed door.

her heart melted when she saw you, door creaking open to reveal your ethereal figure. you were perched up in bed with a quite lengthy book in your lap. your meaty manicured fingers traced over the yellowing pages and your mouth moved ever so slightly as you whispered the sentences to yourself. your head shot up when you heard her come in, the most beautiful smile working its way onto your face. oh how she loved your smile.

“hey, baby!” you chimed, setting the book aside. she watched as you leaned over to your nightstand, reaching for your phone to pause your music “how was practice?”

“same as usual” she shrugged, dragging over to you dramatically, making you chuckle. her body flopped onto the end of the bed, her head coming to rest on your thigh “missed you s’much though”

“missed you too, paige” you allowed your fingers to roam into her hair, nails massaging gently across her scalp “been wantin’ you all day”

“yea?” she smirked as she looked up at you. every day it seemed to get harder to pull her eyes away from you.

“yea” you breathed, softly grabbing her chin to motion her to move up the bed. she complied without a second thought as she crawled her way next to you. it was true, you’d been practically craving her from the moment you’d gotten home. you were genuinely happy at your internship, excited to move up in your career, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to head right back home and be with paige.

“you’re all i thought about today” her hands gripped your waist, pulling you over to straddle her lap “could barely make a shot”

you leaned into her touch, back arching into her when you felt her hand run from the small of your back to the waistband of your shorts. paige welcomed the pressure, now chest to chest with you, leaning in to place kisses along your jawline. the action alone was enough to extract a small moan from deep in your throat.

“well i couldn’t even pay attention to what my boss was saying today at our meeting” you attempted to counter her, competing for who-missed-who more. but paige continued her assault on your smooth skin, lips trailing down your neck. in urgency, she grasped onto the hem of your shirt and began to pull it over your head. but much to your dismay, she stopped abruptly to interrupt you “i don’t even know what he was talking about, i was so focused on y-”

“is this my shirt?”

the sudden question shocked you. here you were, getting all hot and bothered after barely seeing paige for days, and all she was worried about was the shirt you had on? she pinched at the navy blue tee that devoured your entire upper body, eyeballing the threads that unraveled at the hem. you looked at her sheepishly, realizing you had just thrown it on mindlessly for comfort.

“um i don’t know-yea i think” you blinked, bummed from the lack of contact that her lips once had on your chest “sorry, i just really missed you today and i wanted to be close to you so…i don’t know it thought it would help. but i can give it back! here i’ll go put it back in your closet!”

you tried to move off of her, feeling guilty for taking her shirt without asking for permission. you had worn her clothes before, but never without checking to see if it was ok with her first. it was just one of your things, hating to not get consent before doing something even if paige insisted that it was ok. but she loved that about you. loved that you were sweet enough to ask, that you cared more about her than some silly shirt.

“baby, baby, baby” she whispered, stopping you from getting off of her “you don’t need to do that, keep it on”

“oh” you said, belly fluttering when she gave you a ditsy smile “are you sure?”

“mhm,” she pulled you in for a kiss, tugging on your bottom lip with her teeth “looks good on you, look so hot in my clothes”

it felt electric, the way she was enchanting you into her embrace. how she went back to her initial intentions, sucking dark purple marks on your collarbone, not even letting you get a word out. your hands flew to the back of her head as they drew her in closer. you don’t think you could ever get enough of paige.

“if it gets you riled up like this?” you all but panted, hips grinding against hers urgently “then i’ll be sure to wear them more often”

“don’t even need the shirt” she said out of breath as she let her head fall back against the headboard. her eyes roamed the structure of your face, not wanting to ever forgot such a sight. she took one of your hands, placing in on her chest as it rose and fell rapidly, then slowly guiding it lower and lower. you got to the cincture of her basketball shorts, allowing her to push your hand past the untied strings and eventually the elastic of her boxers. your breath caught in your throat when you reached her aching core, feeling the arousal between her legs. she let out an exasperated groan as she felt your fingers where she needed them most. this had been what she was waiting for all day.

“this is what you do to me, don’t even have to try”

[loveindefinitely]

02 — 𝘞𝘏𝘈𝘛 𝘐'𝘔 𝘛𝘏𝘐𝘕𝘒𝘐𝘕𝘎 𝘈𝘉𝘖𝘜𝘛

༊*·˚ LUST FOR LIFE — task force 141 x reader

featuring. simon 'ghost' riley + johnny 'soap' mactavish + kyle 'gaz' garrick + john 'bravo six' price

warnings. nsfw, fem!reader, fmmmm, legal age-gaps, inexperienced reader, angst, graphic violence, slight power imbalance, enemies to lovers, slow burn, betrayal

series masterlist. read on ao3. fanfic playlist.

// NSFW CONTENT UNDER THE CUT //

"You assaulted two Special Forces Operators, kid," Price says, a barely veiled grimace contorting his features. "That's not a good look."

You tug against where your hands are cuffed to the metal bars, your brows furrowing. "Kidnapping the girl -- whose dad you killed after taking her virginity -- isn't a good look either."

...Alright.

So, if you could go back in time, and never eavesdrop on the four men who have completely ruined your life, you would take up the offer in a heartbeat.

Between landing your fist to Gaz's jaw, and where you are now, your life has become a total shit show.

Like, complete, this might just be a fever dream level of crazy.

It started from the moment you saw blood trickling from your now late father's forehead, and in the glint of the moonlight, seeing Ghost holding the gun.

Then, you'd turned, without another thought, and landed a punch right to Gaz's jaw. The man who had taken your first kiss no more than two hours ago.

You can relive the moment even now, under the harsh neon lights of an interrogation room, as if you're experiencing everything for the first time once more.

༊*·˚

Gaz hisses, wincing as he brings a hand up to the aching pain radiating from the bone that'd taken the brunt of your punch.

"You guys -- what the fuck --" You stammer out, eyes wide and borderline manic as you gape at the man before you. "You guys just killed my dad!"

"Yeah, but," Gaz starts, before backtracking. You figure he has enough braincells to realise that 'rationality and reason' isn't going to work with you, not in this state, and especially not after you just witnessed the murder of your only living family member. "Ah. Well. He wasn't a good guy."

You really, truly, cannot believe the audacity of this man.

Your mouth opens.

Gaz grimaces.

Your mouth closes.

He takes a step closer, hands raised in a placating gesture.

"Take another step near me and I'll punch you again!" You threaten, with an aggressive point of your finger.

You're extremely aware that your punch had done next to nothing, and Gaz's reaction to it was more one of sympathy, but the threat lands nonetheless.

"Alright, alright, we're not gonna hurt you," he raises his hands further, eyes bouncing between your own. You're not sure what he sees -- maybe resentment, or horror, or fear.

Whatever it is, it makes his frown deepen.

He goes to say something else, when your bedroom door opens with a soft click. "Finishin' up, ya read--"

Soap pauses his whisper, ice-blue eyes meeting yours. His grimace isn't unlike the one Gaz is sporting, and it only worsens your mood. If looks could kill, he would be lying on the grass beside --

Oh god. Your dead dad.

"Steamin' Jesus," Soap mutters under his breath, looking up to the roof in some semblance of a last minute prayer.

There's a moment, then, for a decision to be made. It's as if your brain can only come up with two options, and one of them will lead to your untimely death.

So, really, it's not entirely your fault when you pick up the salt lamp sitting on your bedside table and throw it right into the arrogant Scot's face.

"Holy shit," Gaz's eyes are comically wide as Soap cries out, the heavy pink rock slamming into his nose. He stumbles back, and the sound of your lamp hitting cartilage even has you wincing, panicked state or not. "How the fuck have you survived this long with those kinda reflexes, Soap?"

Soap drops into a squat, cradling his nose in his hand as he tilts his head back, squeezing the ridge between two calloused fingers. His voice comes out nasally as he mumbles, "Mighta' broke 'gain."

Your entire body is trembling, adrenaline coursing through your veins as you creep to the window with soft, quiet steps.

Maybe, you think, in the back of your mind, I can make the jump into the garden.

It's not to be, however.

"You're smarter than that," Gaz directs an unamused glare your way, before grabbing you by the wrist and pulling you towards your door.

Digging your heels into the carpet, you attempt to wrestle out of his grip -- but a trained military expert and you are no match, not even with the energy overtaking your body.

"Let go of me!" You grit out, tugging and displaying your weight in the opposite way to his goal. He doesn't even turn around as he drags you out of your room, slamming your door shut behind you.

"What the fuck is goin' on," Ghost's growl comes from the stairs, heavy bootfalls following until he's standing, gaze drifting from you, to Gaz, to Soap, back to you again.

"Fuck, man," Soap whines, squeezing his eyes shut as he keeps his head tilted back, blood running down his lips and chin. You somehow find it in yourself to feel slightly bad. Not enough to apologise, and certainly not enough to stop fighting back.

They were going to kill you. Probably. Or, like, what's the skin trade like in your area? Oh god. Fuck. Shit.

"She saw," Gaz mutters to Ghost, and his eyes narrow, black face paint crinkling where it's been put on the upper half of his face, skin not covered by the balaclava.

There aren't any lights on, and it's the lights on downstairs that cast shadows and highlights over the men's' faces.

"Fuckin' christ," Ghost groans, before turning and walking back downstairs without another word.

You continue to struggle against Gaz's hold, but both of your wrists have been collected in his hand, and he's pulled you so your back is to his chest. If it were any other circumstance, you'd be blushing, most likely turned on from such an embrace.

Right now, however, you're questioning every possible decision you've ever made.

"Ye Dad treated ya like shit 'nyways," Soap says, too loud to be under his breath, but too quiet for it to be conversational. "Dinnae why yer freakin''."

"You're murderers!" You hiss back, lips pulled back into a snarl. Your muscles ache from the punch, the hefty throw, and now from struggling against Gaz. "And I don't exactly have any other family, do I?!"

Gaz makes a sound of agreement, before shaking his head and countering. "We're not murderers, not really."

You choke a laugh, but it's entirely too wet and sad for it to be threatening or cruel. "So you guys didn't just shoot my father?"

"Si pulled th' trigger," Soap pouts, almost like a child would over a lack of candy.

"Soap," Gaz exasperates, and although you can't see his face, you're sure it's dismayed and annoyed. "Seriously?"

"What?!" Soap counters, and when it comes out high-pitched, he squeezes his eyes shut and holds his nose tighter. "Jus' tha truth, dinnae why yer so shitty. Yer not tha one bleedin'."

Speechless.

You are fully, unbelievably, speechless.

What the actual fuck was wrong with these... men? And what was wrong with you for being more than ready to spread your legs for them not too long ago?

You needed therapy. And coffee.

And a time machine, preferably. If one was made available at this given moment.

"Get down here," the final man of the hour shouts up the stairs, and your blood runs cold. There's something about him that's not quite as threatening as Ghost, but somehow makes you even more fearful.

Gaz, with surprisingly careful and gentle movements, guides you down the stairs. The parallel of how Ghost's hand had been at your lower back as he invited you to the lounge room, mere hours ago, isn't lost on you.

His hand doesn't move from the tense grip it has on your wrists. You can't help but feel like it's a completely unnecessary gesture, considering the fact that any of them could take you down within seconds if they really needed to. Hell, they all had actual, military-grade weapons.

"Seriously, Gaz?" Price huffs, looking entirely like a disappointed dad in this moment as he stands, leaning against your kitchen counter, arms folded over his chest, ankles crossed over. "One job, mate."

"You lot weren't exactly quiet," he retorts, but he slowly releases your wrists.

At this point, you know it's a lost cause to try and escape this situation, so you just ball your hands into wrists at your sides. You can't imagine it's an overly threatening position, considering how your entire frame trembles, and your lips wobble.

Your father was dead.

And the men that had made you feel so comfortable, so cared for, are the culprits.

Stupid, stupid girl.

They are dangerous men who do dangerous things.

"Peas," Soap's voice is practically a beg as he stumbles into the kitchen, opening the freezer door with no preamble as he scours it for... peas.

They're in the far right of the bottom shelf.

You don't tell him that.

"Have some water," Price encourages, holding out a glass cup full of chilled water.

Your eyes narrow, standing your ground. "Not accepting drinks from murderers. Dad taught me that, y'know?"

Gaz chokes a laugh, before covering it up with a fist to his mouth and a clearing of his throat. It fools no one, and you allow yourself the tiny bit of pride that fills your chest at the reaction to your taunt.

"Ghost," Price mutters, resigned and almost frustrated as he looks at you.

You understand why, as soon as the feeling of a needle imbedding into your neck has you flinching, pain prickling at the intrusion in your muscle.

"What --" you begin, before your legs fall out beneath you, your eyes falling to half mast as Price hefts you up, beefy arms holding you beneath your armpits as your body becomes dead weight.

"Sorry, kid," are the last words you hear, before black overrides all of your senses as drugged sleep takes you.

༊*·˚

Sometime between then, and now, you've found yourself in a white-walled room, blinding lights turning the throbbing in your head from a low pound to an echoing boom of a drum.

"We didn't plan for... any of it to happen the way it did. This was our only choice." Price shakes his head, hands resting at the top of his vest as he studies you.

Right. The virginity, kidnapping and assault thing.

...Great.

"I must've forgot the part where I resisted arrest," you retort, forcing your eyes to remain open, despite the heaviness to them. It's as if a weight has been hung from your eyelids, and every blink drags them down more and more each time.

"Jesus -- you're not under arrest," Price rubs at his eyes, head dipped down as if he's recollecting his thoughts. You're not sure if he's had any sleep, although your sense of time has been completely thrown out of the window.

"Then release me," you say, voice softer than you'd intended, more pleading -- a truer reflection of your current state of mind.

The air is crisp, cool, like that of a hospital. Chemicals and bleach are a potent undertone to the clean scent, and it makes you question what could've previously been done in this room to warrant them.

Your heart pounds almost weakly, and you know if there's any more heartbreaks to come, it might just give out.

How you've resisted a complete mental breakdown is beyond you, and frankly, you'd give yourself a pat on the back if you could. Although, that act might in itself be a sign of insanity.

"Not until we can be assured you're safe," Price insists. "And not until we can clear your name from the books. We have enemies, sweetheart, and those enemies were also your father's. They are not above punishing you for your father's sins."

Your heart is lodged in your throat, and it takes everything in you not to just burst into tears and pray. Pray that this is all some sick joke, some terrifying nightmare that you haven't woken from yet.

But you know it's a baseless hope. You know that this is real.

You're in a military base, somewhere, surrounded by the country's most dangerous men. The most dangerous men on their side, at least.

"So I'm not getting charged for assault?" Your voice is entirely too small for the situation, not for someone who's still cuffed to a bed, going through grief in the most ruthless type of way.

The worst part is that you don't entirely miss your father. You miss the comfort of having a family member, that's true, but he wasn't a good parental figure, and his treatment of you could be classed as abuse to most people.

And from what these four are saying, he wasn't a good man either.

People didn't often talk about how separate the two things were. It was possible to be a great man, but the worst of fathers, and the opposite could be true, too.

Fate had dealt you a bad hand, in giving you one who was terrible on both sides of the coin.

"Technically," Price leans back into his chair, his voice littered with exhaustion, "We... should report it."

Your stomach drops.

Price's eyes meet yours, and somehow, he must see the turmoil battling inside of your head, because he lets out a deep breath, deflating just a bit.

"No. You're not getting charged for assault, sweetheart."

"Don't call me that," you reply, too quick for your brain to catch up. The endearment is entirely too wrong, smarting on a chafing wound, a reminder of the mistakes you'd made, and the deception these men had pulled on you. "...Please."

You refuse to meet his eyes as he nods, slowly, as if in understanding.

"What did he do?" You don't mean to utter those words, to ask that question, but after you do, you can't find it in yourself to regret it. "What made him worthy of death?"

Price rubs a hand over his face, and for the first time, you register the lines of his face. Lines of a story having been told, proof of a life lived. It makes you want to learn, to find the origins of the small scars you can see, the crinkles at the corners of his eyes.

"He broke many promises. Betrayed his team," Price states, and you can tell the millions of words he leaves out, the context better off left unsaid. "He did terrible things. Killed people who had made no faults."

Oh.

For some reason, it hadn't truly hit you, not before now, the truth behind his death. What hadn't you been told?

How hadn't you been made aware that he was -- he was part of the special forces. He was a dangerous man -- he was one of the men he'd warned you about. How blind had you been? For so long? Those business trips, when he'd come with bruises, brushing them off whenever you gained the courage to make attempts of caring, of forming a relationship with the man who raised you.

They weren't business trips. They were missions -- ones with impossibly high death rates.

And he just.

Hadn't said a word. Just continued to treat you like you were worthless, a nuisance, a pain in his ass. Something worth protecting, if only so your weight in gold wasn't minimised.

What were you to do, if he just. Didn't come home after a mission gone awry? If he died on the field. If you woke up one day without a single living family member left.

You only realise that tears have fallen down your cheeks when Price's thumb brushes them away, your nose scrunching with a sniffle.

Jerking back, as if electrocuted, it takes everything in you to glare at the man whose gentle hands had led you to this position in the first place. "Don't touch me."

He backs away. Doesn't argue.

It hurts your heart in a way you don't want to touch with a ten foot pole. Not right now. Not ever, maybe. Preferably.

You let out a deep, stabilising exhale, before weakly meeting Price's gaze. "Can I sleep? Feeling kinda shit after the drugs," you mumble.

Price's lips twist into a grim line, but he nods curtly. "'Course, kid. Call out if you need 'nything."

You just lay back, turning on your side, facing the white wall as the lights turn off, leaving pitch black in its wake. Your wrist smarts where the handcuff has left a red mark, your free hand rubbing at the small patch of visible skin.

If you were more aware, more... ready for the conversations you needed to have, you would've demanded all four of them speak to you right this moment.

But your head is heavy, and thoughts are few and far between.

Grief and confusion cement in your brain like a thick fog, your emotions like cars without lights in the thick mist.

No directions, no ability to brake before crashing into one another.

You're an absolute mess, and you have no one to blame but you and your sick curiosity, your reckless decision making.

But, you realise, this was a long time coming.

Because there's one thing Price -- nor the other three men -- don't know.

Your father wasn't the only one who held secrets.

And it was you who held the key to this force's undoing.

a/n. lol so like. who's ready for some enemies to lovers? sorry to everyone who wanted immediate hurt/comfort!! for some reason plot lines and depth hit me and i was like. i need to do it justice. so here we are!!!

thank you all SOSOSO much for the reception of the first part. it genuinely means a lot to have people excited about my stories??? like omg youre all SO kind. comments and reblogs make my absolute week!! mwah mwah mwah

taglist comment/msg to be added. @captainjamster @alfa-jor @simp4miguell @yaboibauldano @dreamaboutpinkk @guyser @lovewithasideoflust @redz0mbie @ghost-is-my-bbg @astro-ghoul99 @the-faceless-bride @casterousaudrey @cutiecusp @kit-williams @lilpothoscuttings @florabelll

[cherry-romper]

Loving You Sounds Like a Song

Playlist

+ Midoriya, Bakugou, Todoroki, Kirishima, Kaminari, Sero, Iida, Momo, Jirou, Mina, Ochaco, Asui, Mirio, Amajiki, Aizawa, Hawks, All Might, Dabi, Twice, Compress, Shiguraki

Midoriya; Head over Heels - Tears For Fears

I wanted to be with you alone

I'm lost in admiration, could I need you this much?

Something happens and I'm head over heels

One little boy, one little man - funny how time flies

Bakugou; Everlong - Foo Fighters

I've waited here for you, Everlong

Come down, And waste away with me

Breathe out, So I can breathe you in

And I wonder...if everything could ever feel this real forever.

You gotta promise not to stop when I say when.

Todoroki; Say Yes to Heaven - Lana Del Rey

Give peace a chance, Let the fear you have fall away

Say yes to heaven, Say yes to me

If you go, I'll stay, You come back, I'll be right here

And if you fight, I'll fight

I've got my mind on you

Kirishima; Lover - Taylor Swift

Can I go where you go?

Can we always be this close forever and ever?

I've loved you three summers now, honey, but I want 'em all

I take this magnetic force of a man to be my lover

All's well that ends well to end up with you

Kaminari; NEON - DPR LIVE

Your kisses make it go neon

Neon, I want to know you

Neon, lose the night with you

Girl, I'm liking your body, but more than that I love your, uh

Colourful smile, you make me wonder what's under, uh

The way you make the light go blurry

Sero; Coast - Hailee Steinfeld

You the wave upon my ocean, pounding rhythm and motion

Just relax and let the riptide pull you close

Baby, all I wanna do is coast, with you

The starts come down, you drown 'em out

I'm sinking deeper into you

Iida; This Charming Man - The Smiths

Will nature make a man of me?

Why pamper life's complexity, When the leather runs smooth on the passenger seat?

This man said, "It's gruesome that someone so handsome should care"

A jumped up pantry boy, Who never knew his place

Momo; You've Got The Love - Florence + The Machine

I know I can count on you

But you've got the love I need to see me through

When my food is gone you are my daily meal

When friends are gone I know my saviour's love is real

Jirou; Wait a Minute! - WILLOW

I'm here right now, with you

I'll run my hands through you hair

You wanna run your fingers through mine

You left your diary at my house, And I read those pages, Do you really love me, baby?

Mina; DESERT EAGAL - Beyonce

Soft to the touch, let you hold somethin'

Soft kisses on some fat lips

Put on a show and make it nasty, Desert Eagle in the backseat

Oh, I keep it classy, let you love me like a lady, yeah

Ochaco; Strawberry Skies - Kid Travis

Girl you brighten up my world

Cant you tell I want you by my side?

We're gone with the wind, Hair in your face, Put my hand on your waist

Strawberry skies, all on your lips, 'cause I love how it taste

Hope that you catch me when I fall

Asui; Honey - Kehlani

I like my girls just like I like my honey, sweet, A little selfish

'Cause I'm a beautiful wreck, A colourful mess, but I'm funny

All the pretty girls in the world, But I'm in this space with you

Don't walk away, or would you wait for me?

Isn't love all we need? Is it love?

Mirio; I can't Help Myself - Four Tops

You know that I love you, I cant help myself

I love you and nobody else

Leaving just your picture behind, And I kissed it a thousand times

When you snap your figure or wink your eye, I come running too you

But every time I see your face, I get choked up inside.

Amajiki; Halley's Comet - Billie Eilish

But in my dreams I seem to be more honest, And I must admit, you've been in quite a few

But you're all it takes for me to break a promise

Silly me to fall in love with you

Midnight for me is 3AM for you

I was good at feeling nothing, now I'm hopeless

Aizawa; Adore You - Harry Styles

I get so lost inside your eyes, Would you believe it?

You don't have to say you love me

You don't have to say nothing

You don't have to say you're mine

I'd walk through fire for you, Just let me adore you

Hawks; Where u Goin' Tonight? - Mac Ayres

Just don't stand so close to me... Unless tonight, you'll be my only

All of the things I tried to keep low, Feeling like I been changing

Tell me where you goin' tonight? I'll meet you there if that's alright

Could I be the one to do the things that you like?

Burnt all my bridges, baby, But at least I'm staying warm

I been working on forgiveness, Said I don't think its catching on

All Might; I Was Made For Lovin' You - KISS

Tonight I wanna give it all to you

'Cause girl, I was made for you, And girl, you were made for me

Can you get enough of me?

Feel the magic, there's something that drives me wild

Dabi; LET THE WORLD BURN - Chris Grey

It's dangerous 'cause I want it all, And I don't think I care what it costs

I shouldn't have fallen in love, Look what it made me become

And I know you think you can run

But I just cant let you go

I'd let the world burn, Let the world burn for you

This is how it always had to end, If I cant have you then no one can

Twice; Caraphernelia - Pierce The Veil

There ain't a think that you can do that's going to ruin my night

This dizzy dreamer and her bleeding little blue boy

Hold my heart, it's beating for you anyway

Ill burn your name into my throat

What's so good about picking up the pieces?

Mr. Compress; Never Ever Getting Rid of me - From Waitress

I will never let you let me leave, I promise I'm not lying

I'm gonna do this right, Show you I'm not moving, Wherever you go, I won't be far to follow

I'm gonna love you so, You'll learn what I already know, I love you means you're never, ever, ever getting rid of me

Shigaraki; No Mercy - DeathByRomy

My boy hates everybody but me

He's sinister, but to me, he's sweet

In love with a monster, Daddy thinks I've lost it

My boy's a bullet in your brain, I show no mercy

Your nightmare is the man of my dreams

It turns me on when he makes you bleed

[wheeboo]

mine | joshua hong

SYNOPSIS. in which joshua is the best thing that's ever been... yours. PAIRING. joshua hong x gn!reader (ft. cheol, jeonghan, soonyoung, mingyu, chan - they don't rlly have dialogue tho lol) GENRE. fluff, some angst, hurt/comfort, friends to lovers, established relationship WARNINGS. a very very brief shirtless joshua moment LMAO, implications of reader having a toxic ex, mentions that reader's parents have a rocky relationship and separate, kissing, terms of endearment, reader and joshua have a lil argument WORD COUNT. 3.6k

requested from @staranghae: joshua + mine by taylor swift for the 2k followers event please 🩷🎀

notes: i am fluent in this song!!!! whenever my love playlist comes on and this plays i literally scream lungs out!!! and shua fits this vibe so much <3

join the 2k celebration!

ONE. "i was a flight risk, with a fear of falling / wondering why we bother with love, if it never lasts..."

Maybe you've always underestimated how the feeling of fresh air hitting your lungs makes you feel so replenished, free, like a single whiff blows away those gusts of worry in an instant.

Your fingers carry a tight, secure grip on Seungcheol's surfboard𑁋you volunteered to carry it for him so he could unload the other things from the van𑁋soft sand meeting your toes the second you step onto the beach for the first time of the summer season. Salty air tingles at your nose, the late afternoon sun baring down on your shoulders, and the expanse of the ocean opens up right before your eyes.

This place had basically watched you grow up. It carries a lot of memories that you hold dear to your heart.

You see Soonyoung already digging into the sand with an abnormally large stick, and Mingyu carrying a bunch of firewood in his arms before dropping them down onto the ground (and accidentally one on his foot, but you won't say anything about that).

However, your eyes drift and land on a figure running up from the beach shore. His dark hair is wet and sticking to his forehead, chest and arms revealed in all its glory before quickly covered up by a white, somewhat lacy button-down shirt that still doesn't do much in concealing the muscles underneath. For a moment, you nearly loose the grip on Seungcheol's surfboard.

Joshua Hong seems to spot you from even a mile away. He's running up to you before you even have the minute to breathe, a grin splitting his face that's as warm as the setting sun. Sand clings to his damp flip-flops and the hem of his black shorts as he nearly skids to a halt in front of you, chest heaving and out of breath. His shirt isn't even buttoned, dammit.

"Hey," he greets you breathlessly, letting his eyes take you in for a second. "Glad you could make it."

A soft smile of your own blooms on your face. "It's good to see you too, asshole."

A flicker of feigned hurt plays across Joshua's features. "Come on. That was so two years ago! I didn't want to push you in the water. You should know that by now."

"Wow, you care so much about me, don't you?" You nearly swing Seungcheol's surfboard playfully in his direction. "You listen to Jeonghan more than your own little brain."

"I swear, it's changed. Everything's changed since then," Joshua reasons lightly. "You have my ears for the entire night, I promise."

His words hang in the air for a moment, and there's perhaps a sliver of fondness in his eyes that you catch when your gazes meet. You feel a certain warmth spread through your chest that you try so hard to ignore each time he's around you.

You brush it off with a roll of your eyes before strolling past him, hoping that Seungcheol's surfboard was enough to cover up the slight flush creeping up your cheeks. The smile to your face still lingers as you walk towards to where Soonyoung and Mingyu are, whom dash up to you the moment they see you to engulf you in a welcoming hug.

Mingyu is almost done setting up the bonfire by the time you and Seungcheol bring all the food and supplies from the van. Jeonghan and Chan had arrived by the time the fire is lit up and crackling, casting a warm, inviting glow on the beach scene. And it isn't long when the yearly traditions of a group bonfire and beachside barbecue commence.

The smell of grilled food fills the air, mixing with the salty breeze and the crackle of the fire. And just for those moments, you forget these fuzzy feelings swirling around you as familiar laughter and camaraderie take over instead.

You've known all of your friends for different amounts of times, but being here with all of them makes it feel like time hasn't passed by at all. Inside jokes are exchanged, memories from as far as childhood resurface, and stories are told that leave you all doubled over with laughter (and Soonyoung nearly choking on a marshmallow).

It's almost natural in the way your eyes seem to search for Joshua's every single time that feeling of happiness threatens to overflow within you. The fire flickers upon his face, his eyes crinkled deeply when he smiles. Happiness looks good on him, you think. It always has.

...does his eyes search for yours too?

By the time the fire dies down, you find yourself sitting near the edge of the beach, with your legs stretched on the sand and the waves barely lapping against your feet. Seungcheol and Mingyu are already out on the ocean on their surfboards, then there's Chan and Soonyoung struggling to get their sandcastle to stay up, and Jeonghan is already knocked out on a beach towel. It's just you, and wherever the hell Joshua is.

"Something's bothering you, isn't it?"

The voice snaps you away from your thoughts, and you pick your head up to see Joshua walking up to you. A cool breeze flows through his strands of his hair as he approaches.

You blink at him. "What?"

He sits down beside you on the sand, close enough that the warmth of his body brushes against yours. "You were too quiet earlier."

You face back towards the water, cowering your head down as if guilty of some sorts.

"Oh," You murmur, somewhat to yourself. "Sorry."

"Sorry for what?" Joshua asks, nudging you lightly on the shoulder. "I told you earlier that I would be all ears for you."

You smile faintly at that. Would you still be all ears if I told you that I've been such a coward with my feelings for you?

"It's... just boy problems, I guess," You respond, though you feel a twinge of regret for wording it like that. It's more than just simply boy problems.

Joshua's jaw seems to tighten at that. "Did that jerk contact you again?"

You know who exactly he's talking about, and you let out a sigh. "No, not him. I... I blocked him a few months ago when he tried spam calling me again. Sort of gave me a good scare, to be honest."

At the corner of your eye, Joshua's hand digs aimlessly into the sand, clenching and unclenching a fistful before smoothing it out again.

"I'm glad you're okay," he says softly, gaze fixed on the grains of sand slipping through his fingers. "You deserve someone way better than him."

You chuckle at that, and a bittersweet pang shoots through your chest. It's true, you deserve better. But really, the problem isn't just jerks and bad relationships. It's the thought of falling for someone again and it all comes crashing down... again.

But it's not like you could hold back from falling when you've already fallen. The truth is undeniable at this point𑁋your heart already beats a little faster for the boy right next to you.

"Guys! Look at the sunset!" Chan's voice rings out into the cool, evening air, pointing an excited finger towards the horizon.

Simultaneously, you and Joshua bring your eyes up tot the sky together. The last rays of the sun are painting the sky in a breathtaking display of fiery oranges, pinks, and purples, like a fleeting masterpiece before nightfall takes hold.

"Wow," You mutter out in awe. "It's beautiful, isn't it?"

Joshua cocks his head to the side, a low hum leaving his lips. "Hmm, I could think of something more beautiful than that, honestly."

You scoff, hitting him lightly on the shoulder. "You ruined the sentimental moment, idiot."

Joshua lets out an amused laugh, a sound that sends those flutters blossoming in your stomach, one you haven't realised you've missed until this very moment. A small giggle of your own escapes your mouth as you bring your eyes back to the sunset together.

Then a low yawn stifles out of you. Maybe everything that has happened the past few hours are finally catching up to you. You let out another yawn, hoping Joshua doesn't notice. But of course, he does.

"Getting tired?" he asks you.

You give a small nod. "Just a little."

A few moment pass, before you feel an arm drape casually over your shoulders. The scent of Joshua and his warmth seeps within your bones. You almost want to protest, but the words get caught in your throat, and you lean your head on his shoulder, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest with each breath.

Perhaps you could spend a long time staying in this position and hope the silence is able to spill all the words you've been meaning to say for all this time, but you know it's easier said than done. Because what's the point of confessing anymore if you know it won't ever last? That you know it'll ruin everything you've built up to get this far?

You've seen it happen around you𑁋with you, your parents, hell even strangers online. It's taught you nothing but to run. That's what your mind tells you to do, but not your heart. And maybe you listen to your mind more often than not.

"Yo, Josh!" Mingyu's voice hollers out from the ocean, and you feel a certain pressure be lifted up from your head (when did he lay his head on yours?) as you catch the sight of Seungcheol and Mingyu motioning to their surfboards. "Wanna hop on?"

Joshua briefly glances down at you, and you meet his gaze, seeing the indecision in his features.

"I don't mind," You tell him. "I'll be fine here."

He hesitates. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, don't worry about me." You pick your head off from his shoulders. "Go have your boy-fun."

Joshua gives you a small smile, though there's a hint of reluctance in his expression. He shouts back to Mingyu and Seungcheol before standing up and brushing the sand off his shorts. You could hardly pull your eyes away from him as he does so.

He starts trotting away as you face back toward the ocean with a sigh, relinquishing the moments you get to have to gather up your thoughts.

"Hey, Y/N?"

You pick your eyes back up to Joshua marching back towards you. He stops in front of you, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips.

"You look beautiful today, by the way." Then he gives shoots you a wink before turning back around. "Just wanted you to know."

The kiss you leave to his cheek later on was really worth the risk.

TWO. "you learn my secrets and you figure out why i'm guarded / you say we'll never make my parents' mistakes..."

A picture frame of a four-year-old Joshua is staring back at you. He still has that same silly grin on his face, the one that has his own eyes smiling as well and makes your heart feel lighter every time you look at it. You reach out to touch the frame, tracing the outline of his little face with your fingertip.

Sometimes, you wish you could experience what he was like at this time𑁋to grow up with him, to know what exactly led him to meeting you. But then again, he's already here with you now, and maybe that's all that matters.

"All ready for bed?" Joshua's voice popping in makes you swiftly place back the picture frame back on his desk. You turn around to see him leaning against the doorway with a soft smile playing on his lips, clad with a simple white t-shirt and a pair of grey sweatpants.

"Mhm," You hum out in response as you settle back under the covers of his bed.

It isn't the first night you've spent with him at his place, but you seem to seek the feeling of his comfort more often than sleeping in your own bed. Jeonghan has been kind of nagging you the two of you to move in together at this point, but that's a leap you're a bit hesitant to jump right now. But the drawer of your own clothes in his wardrobe is a bit of an argument that's hard to defend.

Joshua crawls his way into the spot right next to you, slipping under the duvet and wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you more into his embrace. You feel his breath meet the nape of your neck, warm and soothing against your skin, and your eyes flutter to the feeling.

You shift your position so that you're facing him. His eyes are already closed, lips pursed up slightly, and even then he still looks absolutely stunning. But you know he isn't asleep. Not yet, at least.

"My parents had uh... another argument today," You confess lowly, hesitantly.

Joshua's eyes open up slightly, adjusting his head so he can look at you better. A faint crease of concern appears between his brows, the arm around you tightening imperceptibly.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

You bite at your bottom lip anxiously. There are times you feel as if the only thing that could get you talking is always something revolving your parents, and you wonder if Joshua ever gets tired hearing about all of it. The thought courses insecurity to crawl in your veins, tightening your throat.

But Joshua's patient gaze towards you cuts through the uncertainty bubbling in your chest.

"Just same old, same old, you know?" You attempt to explain. "It just feels like they can't see eye-to-eye anymore. There's like... I don't know... nothing left between them, I guess. And it scares me that... it'll happen to us."

The last sentence suspends thickly into the air. Even then, you know it's more than the truth𑁋you've grown up witnessing and overhearing arguments from your parents that laid down this pessimistic view on the world around you.

You could feel your heart racing from all the anticipation. There's a wave of emotions that washes over Joshua's face, then he takes a deep breath and squeezes you tighter in his hold.

"Hey," he mutters. "Look at me."

You hesitantly meet his eyes.

"We're not like them, okay?" he assures you simply, bringing his hand up to cup your face oh-so gently in his hold. "We may argue sometimes. But the difference is, we communicate. We listen to each other. And we may not have all the answers to everything, but we'll figure it out together, alright?"

You swear you can feel the way he's holding your face also on your heart, like he's protecting you in a way from any doubts that might creep in. A small sigh escapes you, the tension leaving your shoulders as his words wrap around you comfortingly. The faintest, appreciative curve appears to your lips as you feel Joshua's thumb brush against your cheek.

He dreamily smiles at you as well, despite his face being half-buried in the pillow. And the thought of being able to wake up to this sight every single day suddenly feels a lot less like a leap and a whole lot more like a promise.

Somehow, the gap between the two of you disappears as your lips meets his. He kisses you so tenderly, mouth moving against yours with a delicate urgency, and the tiny sound that leaves you brings that smirk you could feel forming on his face.

You feel almost dizzy when you pull away, nothing but a shy look gracing over your features.

"Feeling better?" Joshua asks softly, brushing a stray strand of hair away from your face.

You could only gaze at him, wondering to yourself how he's even in real, how someone like him could exist with his sleepy smile, messy hair, and perfect features carved by the angels above, yet cherish you so dearly.

"Can you..." Your eyes flicker from eyes to his lips. "Can you... keep kissing me?"

It feels really silly to ask that, however Joshua just chuckles, the sound rumbling from deep within his chest as he peers at you with nothing but adoration.

"Of course," he replies, leaning back in. "Whatever you want."

THREE. "braced myself for the goodbye, 'cause that's all I've ever known / then you took me by surprise / you said, 'I'll never leave you alone...'"

The tears streaming down your face burns through the concrete below like acid.

"Y/N, wait𑁋"

"I told you that I-I can't do this right now."

The leaves crunching at your feet echo in your ears as you walk away from Joshua, each step feeling heavier than the last. It's around two in the morning or something, and you can't remember the last time you felt this lost and broken ever since your parents' separation. It's like the ground beneath you has crumbled away, leaving you suspended in midair, grasping for something𑁋just anything𑁋to hold onto.

You've been here before, standing at the edge of this cliff of vulnerability. It's easier to leave before you get left, easier to build walls than to let someone in only to watch them walk away.

But you've come to understand that Joshua isn't one to give up easily. He catches up to you quickly, his hand gently grasping your arm to stop you in your tracks. You try to shrug him off, but his grip only tightens slightly as he turns you around to face him.

"Talk to me," he pleads insistently, and the subtle tremble to his voice has your chest clenching. "If you're just going to keep pushing me away, then𑁋"

"Then leave." The words leave you before you can stop them, fueled by the ache in your chest and the fear in your heart. "You don't have to stay with me when all I-I do is push you away. Don't you think you deserve someone better?"

Joshua's grip on your arm loosens at your words, but it doesn't fall. His eyes scan over your tear-stained face, the quiver to your lips, and all of it has you bracing yourself for the inevitable, final blow𑁋for him to turn and walk away like so many others before him.

But instead, he just steps closer to you.

"This isn't about me staying because I have to, Y/N," he explains. "It's about me wanting to stay because I love you. I knew what I was getting into the second I realised I was falling for you. So no, I'm not going to leave you. And I'll never leave you alone because I know you're worth fighting for."

Your breath catches in your throat, his words piercing through you like a bullet straight through the heart. Even Joshua appears out of breath himself, as if he's poured his own heart out to you in those few simple sentences. The silence stretches between the two of you.

With a quiet sigh and a faint smile, he lets the tension simmer down by trailing his eyes over you.

"When I look at you, I think... I think I fall in love with you all over again like the first time I saw you," Joshua admits shyly, followed by a sheepish chuckle to himself. "It's cheesy, I know. But I can't help it. It's hard not to look at you."

You feel the heat crawling up your face as you blink away your tears clumsily, peering up at him inquisitively. "Really?"

This just draws another laugh from him. Joshua steps closer to you, trailing a hand to cup your face and the other to slide to your back to shorten the gap between the two of you even more. He places a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment before he pulls back slightly to meet your gaze.

"Really," he confirms, voice gentle yet firm. "I meant every word I said, darling."

This brings a genuine smile to your face as if it was the first one that night. You instinctively lean more into Joshua's touch, letting your eyes close for a moment to the simple feeling of him holding you.

"I'm sorry," You mumble, voice barely above a whisper. "for pushing you away like that. It's just... I'm scared."

Joshua takes one of your hands into his own to bring up to his lips, pressing a reassuring kiss to your knuckles.

"It's okay," he assures you. "We can be scared together."

FOUR. "do you believe it? / we're gonna make it now / and i can see it / i can see it now."

A pair of arms snake around your waist from behind, the relaxing melody of a piano floating through the air of the kitchen. You take in a deep breath, leaning back into Joshua's embrace as he rests his chin on your shoulder.

"Smells amazing, honey," Joshua murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your temple.

You smile contentedly, feeling the peace of the moment wash over the two of you. The enticing smells of the pasta you were cooking waft around the kitchen, mingling with the scent of fresh herbs, garlic, and Joshua's presence right behind you.

"It should be ready soon," You say, clutching the wooden spoon in your hands to give the sauce a final stir.

Joshua's eyes arms tighten around you, pulling you even closer as he sways gently to the music. You hear the sounds of his hums hit your ears as you turn to the heat off to the stove. And as you attempt to pull away from him to grab for some plates, Joshua's grip on your waist hardly budges.

You groan exaggeratedly. "Shua, I need to𑁋"

"Marry me."

You freeze immediately, and you swear time halted right at that moment. Turning around in his hold, you're met with the sight of Joshua's eyes on you. You try to pinpoint any doubt in them, any sign that this is some sort of joke, but his gaze remains unwavering, dark eyes serious yet painted with a shine of hope that tugs right at the strings of your heart and the walls of your hesitation.

There's always that fear gnawing at in the back of your mind. But beneath it all, a warmth spreads through your chest, a certainty that feels as natural as breathing.

And perhaps, you see nothing but forever in him.

You can see it in the way his eyes soften, in the way his hand trembles anxiously against your waist, in the way his lips part ever so slightly as he waits for your response. You can see it all in him. You've made it.

You kiss him just seconds later. It's a question your heart has already answered long before the words left Joshua's lips. You lean more into his touch, feeling your heart overflow past the brink of joy, and the feelings all melt together into the singular realisation that he's the best thing that's ever been yours.

When the two of you finally break away, a single word escapes your lips, "Yes."

another note: sorry this ending was slightly rushed T-T

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[birdiewriteslit]

“so american”

nico hischier x f!reader

masterlist

inspired by “so american” by olivia rodrigo

warnings: fluff, kissing

can you tell i love nico in a hat

You were sitting in the passenger side of Nico’s car with your feet up on the dash. The window was down, and your arm was hanging out of it, the cool wind blowing your hair around your face.

It was spring, and the weather was just starting to feel like it. It had been cold for the past few weeks, and both you and Nico were happy to finally be able to enjoy semi-warm temperatures.

You loved driving around Jersey with Nico. You loved sneaking glances at him while he was too focused on the road to notice. You loved how warm his hand felt on your thigh. You loved how his t-shirt fit you and how it smelled like him. You also loved that he let you have aux privileges.

Nico frowned at you as one of your country songs came on the playlist. If his brown puppy dog eyes weren’t covered by his dark sunglasses, they would probably be enough to convince you to change the song.

You giggled at his displeasure, consoling him by lacing your fingers through his that rested on your thigh. He seemed to accept this, a small smile on his face as he shook his head.

He gave you one last once over before focusing on the road again. His smile grew wider. “You look so American.”

You let out a surprised noise. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Nico shrugged. “You’re listening to country music, for one. I only ever see people’s feet on the dashboard in movies, very American.”

“You don’t do this in Switzerland? You don’t relax with your hand out the window like this?” you teased, making wave motions with your arm in the wind.

He laughed, squeezing your hand as he did so. “We relax. It’s just different here. I like your Americanness. I guess the exception is that you’re wearing a Swiss’s shirt, which you look very pretty in, by the way,” he said slyly, raising your hand to his lips to kiss it.

You felt your face heat up as you watched the smile that spread across his face as he pulled away. “God, Nico, don’t make me blush.”

But that’s really all he did, it was what he was best at. You knew he loved how flustered he could make you if he wanted to. He loved how after five months of dating, he could still easily make you nervous.

The next day, at brunch with your friends, you expressed your utter happiness, but at a table full of mostly single women, it wasn’t received the way you intended.

“I’m serious when I say that I have never seen a more attractive man in my life. Like, seriously, compare him to any celebrity crush you’ve ever had, and multiply that attractiveness by a thousand,” you babbled mindlessly to your friends, who were giving each other looks. “And, ugh, don’t get me started on his accent. It’s so hot, especially when he talks me through it.”

“I’m gonna stop you right there,” your friend said, holding up her hand, a disgusted look on her face. “Frankly, it’s rude to talk about this during brunch. I mean, right in front of my french toast?” She gestured to her plate.

Another friend snorted. “I hate to say it, Y/n, but I agree. You literally only talk about him anymore. It’s like you’re gonna marry him.”

“I might,” you blurted.

Their eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Are you serious?”

You gave a small nod, suddenly uncomfortable by the amount of eyes one you. “I know it’s early but—“

“But you love him,” one of your married friends sighed. “It certainly sounds like you do,” she added after getting some looks from the other women at the table.

You didn’t respond, instead choosing to remain silent as the conversation steadily flowed away from you. You but the inside of your cheek, thinking about how you definitely loved Nico. You knew this before today, but with your history of failed relationships, you figured taking it slow with him was a good idea.

You weren’t lying about marrying him. If he kept this shit up, you were going to.

That night, you were lying in bed, eyes on the bathroom door, where Nico was on the other side. In your shorts and tank top, you were a little cold, and the top blanket wasn’t doing much for you.

When Nico slept over, you rarely made it under the covers. He naturally ran hot, and if you were covered by more than one blanket, you would literally overheat.

Finally, he came out of the bathroom. He was wearing a Devils t-shirt that was well worn and mostly likely from several seasons ago. He wasn’t wearing pants, his boxers out for you to ogle at, although you knew you shouldn’t.

Nico walked over to his side of the bed, stopping before he climbed under the blanket to pick up a book on your nightstand. You’d both read it and come to the conclusion that it was a waste of your good money.

“Why do you still have this?” he asked, showing you the cover. “I can’t believe your friend recommended it.”

“I like reading your notes. I think it’s cute how angry you get,” you admitted.

He set the book down and got into the bed, covering you with his body, instantly warming you up.

Wrapping his arms securely around you, he pressed his face into the crook of your neck. He sighed into your skin, his warm breath fanning out and his stubble tickling you.

He placed small kisses up your neck, trailing along your jaw before capturing your lips with his. Between kisses, he said, “Missed you today.”

Your heart fluttered at his words. “Yeah?” you said, smiling against his lips. “I missed you.”

He pressed one last kiss to your lips before pulling away. He brought a hand up to your face, brushing a piece of hair behind your ear, and stroking your face with his thumb. His lips parted, and his eyes were so big and brown that you genuinely felt like you could lose yourself in them.

“I wish you could come with us when we leave.” Nico was referring to an upcoming roadie. He would be gone for a week.

He was looking at you so sincerely, so vulnerably. “I’ll go anywhere you go,” you whispered.

You knew you couldn’t go with him. It wasn’t realistic. But with the way he was looking at you, you really couldn’t hold back from saying something so sappy.

He glanced down at your lips quickly before meeting your eyes again, his thumb continuing to stroke your cheek. “You would?” he asked softly.

You nodded. “I love you, Nico.”

His eyebrows rose in surprise, like he wasn’t expecting you to say it. His lips parted to speak, but nothing came out.

“Sorry if it’s too soon. I know I’m in love with you,” you spoke quickly. “I don’t wanna just assume that you feel the same about all of it.”

He took your face in his hands and kissed you. When he pulled away, he kept his hands on your cheeks and looked at you meaningfully. “I’ve been wanting to say that for months. Trust me, I feel the same. I love you.”

Your face warmed as he looked deeply into your eyes. You surged forward to kiss him again. You peppered his whole face with kisses, and he laughed as he gripped your waist and flipped the two of you over so that you were on top of him.

He grinned at you when you pulled away, his cheeks rosy and his hair slightly messed. “I don’t think I’ll be getting much sleep tonight,” he said.

Your expression matched his perfectly. “I don’t think so either.”

Even though you didn’t confess that earlier that day, you’d thought about marrying him, this was still just as good.