#But don’t want to get one if I’m leaving the country because the quarantine process is insane

[floraleevee]

it really is so scary where we’re headed. As an ecologist, I’ve been in mourning about the future of environmental protection in this country. on a selfish note, I was planning to graduate with my MS (finally) this spring and get a job with the EPA. After the election, I nixed the latter half of that plan since trump is planning to gut the EPA. I’ve been somewhat paralyzed by indecisiveness - do I try for a state ecologist position, private environmental contract work, or stay where I am? I currently work in medical research (kinda just fell into a position in a preclinical lab), and not even anything “controversial” even by his lot’s standards. But he just put a moratorium on NIH grants. Thankfully the one my salary comes from is already doled out and guarantees my salary for the next few years, but Jesus Christ. An entire moratorium on the National Institute of Health.

I feel like every day is a new piece of news that gives you that awful simultaneous feeling of a pit in your stomach/your breath hitching/your blood stopping/goosebumps from fear rising.

and I know people are like “don’t stop, keep fighting, this is what they want” etc etc and I get that. But I’m allowed to be terrified and frankly it just frustrates me to get that response. This is a scary, scary time and your “words of encouragement” feel like you’re mitigating people’s fear.

[parkers-gal]

can u do one where is ag!reader’s birthday party and there’s a lot of celebrities there (like rihanna, beyonce, kylie, doja, megan...) and she introduce tom and the boys too to them? i love your writing 🥺💙

aww🥺

this sucks but i tried lol

wc: 1.8k

—

“C’mon, babes!” You pull him into your side. “It’ll be so much fun! And besides, you’re a social butterfly. You’ll fit right in,” you smile with some extra pep, and Tom laughs in response, finally nodding in agreement.

“Alright. But don’t touch your present until it’s time.” “I won’t!” You squeal. “That was one time!”

“One time too many!”

“Fine, fine,” you stand up. “C’mon, take a shower with me.”

Tom raises a brow, “Oh?”

“It’s my birthday,” you smirk, “I can have whatever I want.”

“That indeed, darling,” he’s pulled up by your arms, and the two of you go off to get ready for the party in just a few hours.

Finally, forty minutes later, you’ve dressed and prepared to drive down to the country club you’ve rented out for the party. You don’t normally make such a big deal about your birthday, but because of the success of your recent album, you know everyone would want to rejoice after all the time in quarantine.

Applying your last bit of lip liner, Tom comes strolling in while adjusting his Rolex watch. He reaches for the comb sitting in the top drawer, and you admire how sensual he looks getting ready.

“See something you like, love?”

“Ah ah ah,” You stop him. “I get free access to gawk over your hands. Today is shame-free, baby,” You do the rock ‘n’ roll sign for dramatics, and Tom teasingly rolls his eyes.

“Okay, go sit in the car, love. I need to get your present into the trunk while you aren’t eyeing my hands.”

“Yeah yeah,” You wave him off, and as you leave the bathroom, Tom playfully slaps your ass, sparking a giggle from you.

Afterward, when you finally do arrive, your mom and close friends/choreographers have already made sure the setup was complete. The first few guests to arrive are your closest confidants: Victoria Monet, Tommy Brown, Scootie and Mikey, Tayla Parx, and Courtney Chipolone.

“You look good, girl!” Victoria greets you with a soft hug, her highlight accentuating the beautiful shades of her skin.

“You too!” you reciprocate her excitement.

“And happy birthday,” she holds you at arm’s length before turning to Tom. “Treating the birthday girl well?”

“Of course, of course,” he clasps his hands together and smiles so wide that his eye crinkles show. You smile at that, hand going to the small of his back to pull him closer.

More people arrive, and soon enough the hall is packed and you’ve lost Tom in a crowd of familiar faces. You see him sitting at the bar, engaging in conversation with his brother Sam and Scott, your choreographer. Deciding to make your way over to him, you’re halfway through the bunch of the crowd when Abel stops you to catch up.

“Oh-! Can I be right back?”

He nods with a smile, sipping his cocktail and letting you run off again. Quickly, you make your way to the barstool that seats Tom.

“Hey love,” he greets.

“Hi, baby,” You curl into his side, waving gently to the boys sitting beside him. “C’mon, I want you to meet some people.”

“Welp,” Tom stands, “That’s my cue.” The three of them share a laugh and then he’s linking his hand with yours and letting you take the lead.

“You know The Weeknd, right?”

“What?” Tom stops, and because his hand is linked with yours it stops you too. “No, love, that’s- I’m- you can’t introduce me to him!”

“Why not?” You giggle. “He’s just a person.”

“Yeah, and extremely talented and successful person who my brother happens to obsess over.” You roll your eyes teasingly while beginning to pull him along again. “You’ll be fine, you big baby. Besides, he’s always wanted to meet you.”

“Alright,” he mumbles, still nervous but trusting you. Before long, he’s standing in front of the “After Hours,” singer, shaking his hand and engrossing himself in easy conversation. It flows so well that Tom almost doesn’t remember being nervous to meet him.

“I’m gonna get a refill,” He excuses himself. “It was great to catch up, Y/N/N. And nice meeting you, Tom,” he pats Tom’s shoulder as the two of you wave him goodbye.

Tom lets out a heavy breath, one of relief and pure excitement from having just met another big-time celebrity.

“Look at you, big guy,” you tease, tapping his shoulders in a taunting manner. Tom rolls his eyes and chuckles, catching your hands with his and pulling you to his chest for an almost kiss.

“Shut up,” he mumbles.

“Make me.”

And he does — with his lips. When the two of you separate, you spot a group of girls in the corner and you immediately light up. Tom doesn’t have time to process what’s happening before you’re tugging him along to another side of the room.

“C’mon! There‘re more people I want you to meet!”

“Love! I’m not prepared!” he whisper-shouts. You ignore his pleas and enlargen the circle of familiar friends.

“Girlies!” they squeal as you greet them. “It’s good to see you all! There’s someone I wanna introduce you all to…” You pull Tom along, who’s a blushing, bashful mess of British and messy curls. “Tom, this is Doja, Megan, and Nicki.” You gesture to each one as you say their names. “Guys, this is Tom, my boyfriend.”

“The one you always talk about in the studio?”

“Oh, that one! In all your pictures! He’s the one on your lock screen, right?”

Nicki chuckles from behind her champagne glass, observing the encounter unravel.

“Is that so, darling?” Tom eyes you, and you groan dramatically. “Didn’t know you were so head over heels for me.”

“Oh… hush,” you sass him, and everyone laughs.

“A little birdie told me you had something to do with the makings of Positions…” Nicki teases.

You gasp, feigning shock. “I never should’ve told you that! Ugh,” You groan again, and everyone laughs at your flustered state. “I slipped up one time. One! Time!”

“Feel free to keep slipping up, then,” Tom teases. You lightly slap his upper chest and he giggles, pulling you in to steal another kiss.

“Y/N says you’ve just wrapped filming with Zendaya…?” Doja suggests, and Tom immediately lights up again.

“Oh, yeah! Spider-man three. Actually, I think Daya may be here.”

“She is,” You confirm. “She’s with Jacob and Harry by the pool table.”

“I’m gonna introduce myself,” Doja smiles slyly, and you and Tom share a laugh at her antics. Megan trails after her, champagne glass still in her hands.

“Don’t embarrass me!” She stops to speak to you one last time. “Oh, and happy birthday, Y/N. It was really nice meeting you, Tom,” she waves and Tom returns the gesture.

The two of you are left alone with Nicki, who’s speaking to a man that Tom guesses to be her boyfriend. You pull Tom along again, settling by the snack table to grab a few churros and pretzels.

“So? Whaddya think?”

“Megan had really nice nails,” He says through bites.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm,” he smiles, though his mouth is stuffed. “Super pretty.”

“Well, I’ll make sure to tell her.”

Tom chuckles softly, sipping some bottled water. You watch the way his jawline accentuates and you have to force your eyes away from his soft skin and back to the cinnamon delight in your hands.

“Nicki is literally just like her songs. Like- she talks in the same way. It’s so funny.”

“Yeah,” you lick your lips, mindlessly giving Tom the rest of your churro while he hands you his half-empty water bottle. “She’s such an entertaining person. It’d be fun to get together with her one day.”

“Definitely,” Tom smiles, wrapping an arm around your waist. “Who’s next?”

“I think Kylie and her sister are here.”

“Oh my god,” he swallows. “Is Stormi here?”

“Of course you’d ask that.” You roll your eyes, putting the bottle into the recycling bin and pulling Tom towards a gathering of couches and lounge chairs. When you spot her, Travis Scott is taking pictures for what you assume to be her Instagram. She’s dressed in a skin-tight dress and some elegant heels, and you make a mental note to compliment her later.

“Kylie!” You make yourself known. She lets out a soft “oh!” and stands immediately to hug you. Travis turns his phone off and shakes Tom’s hand while you talk with Kylie. “It’s good to see you.”

“And you! Happy birthday,” She smiles before turning to Tom.

“Hey. I’m Tom. Y/N’s-”

“Boyfriend,” She finishes, shaking his hand. “I’m Kylie.”

When you notice Travis making his way back over to the three of you, you see Stormi in his arms and from your peripheral vision, Tom is bouncing on his feet in excitement.

“Stormi, this is Tom. He wanted to meet you,” Travis whispers softly, setting her down on her feet. She gravitates towards Tom, and the two of them start talking rather passionately about something fun. You chuckle at them, but you can’t help admiring Tom for his skills with kids.

You talk with Kylie about the past few months, and after several minutes, you see Harry and Harrison making their way over to you and Tom.

“And who’s this little lady?” Harrison smiles when Stormi giggles, and he kneels to her level.

“Stormi,” She says softly. Both Harrison and Tom clap and praise the sweet girl for introducing herself all on her own. Tom takes a seat on one of the lounge chairs, and Stormi finds comfort on his left leg while playing with his right hand. They discuss which nail polish colors would be best with Tom’s look, and you indulge in Kylie’s newest beauty and skincare products.

Later on, you’re back at the snack table with Tom, and after sufficiently filling up, you offer another suggestion. “Up for meeting Madonna again?”

Tom’s eyes widen and he groans, shaking his head in panic. “No. Absolutely not. Not after what happened last time-”

“Okay, okay, okay,” you say between laughs, grabbing his hand to calm him down. You wrap your arms around his neck and link your hands, leaning against him in a slow-dance position. His hands find the skin of your waist in comfort. The moment doesn’t last long when you notice Tom’s brothers making their way over with a glint in their eyes — you know they want something.

“What do you divs want?” Tom asks, playfully rolling his eyes.

“Well…”

“We heard Nicki Minaj is here,” Harrison interrupts Sam.

“Would you introduce us?” Harry beams in hope. He looks almost nervous, albeit still excited, about asking. Whether that’s because you might say no, or because she’s one of his favorite artists, neither you nor Tom know.

Separating from Tom, you let out a deep and exasperated breath, smiling goodbye and unlinking your hand with his. “Here we go again!” You whisper while the boys pull you along in the direction of the Queen of Rap.

[outerbankspreferences]

Is It Just Me? - Chase Stokes

Is It Just Me – Chase Stokes

 Word Count: 2893

 MASTERLIST

It's been way too long for me to find it this hard Sitting alone, my fingers picking the sofa apart An attempt to distract from the fact that I miss you I wonder if your friends have had to carry you home And stay for the night because they don't want to leave you alone Way before it was fun, it's becoming an issue

I know it's cruel But I kind of hope you're tortured too

 It had been exactly 3 months and 13 days since you and Chase had broken up. You wished it would have been a shock to you, but you had seen this coming. Things with Chase were great in the beginning. He was caring and sweet towards you. You could remember a time someone had cared for you as he had. You always supported Chase with everything he wanted to do with his life. You met him when he had just started out acting, and you were proud to watch his career blossom to the extent it had.

 But had someone told you 6 months ago that you guys wouldn’t be together anymore you would have denied the accusations. 6 months ago, you thought Chase was in love with you.

 Chase had been going back and forth to North Carolina for auditions and eventually got the leading role in the television series. You spent the first month with him and his new cast mate Rudy, having the time of your lives with the other people on the show. The whole cast would go out to different clubs every weekend enjoying spending time together.

 Just a little over 6 months later you were still going to clubs but this time on separate sides of the country. You couldn’t process what had happened in a healthy manner and instead turned to going out with your friends every weekend to keep your mind off things. It always ended the same, one of your friends dragging you up the stairs of your once shared apartment because you were too drunk to do it yourself. They had grown accustomed to the weekend ritual of getting you sleep wear and a bucket for the morning.

 Then you would wake in the morning, puking the nights content in the bucket popping Advil for the headache and dragging yourself to couch, throwing on some stupid movie that you wouldn’t be able to watch anyways. Instead, you would pick at the loose strings of the sofa thinking of all the times you spent in the apartment with Chase.

 Tell me, does your heart stop at the party when my name drops? Like you're stood at the platform when the trains cross Are you hurting, yeah you must be Or is it just me? Tongue-tied, screaming on the inside When I say that we broke up and they ask why Are you crying in the shower like a freak? Or is it just me?

 As you sit picking away at the sofa, you mind wanders to Chase. You still follow everyone on Instagram, and you were still good friends with Rudy, so you could see everyone’s stories. Rudy had been the only one to keep in touch with you, which surprised you because he and Chase seemed to be such good friends.

 You wondered if Rudy ever asked about you to Chase, and then you wondered what Chase’s reaction would be. Would his heart be in his stomach at every mention of your name, or would he simply shrug like you guys had never been more then distant friends?

 You sat wondering if Chase ever thought back to the day at the airport. The way he let you walk through security with no more then just a side a hug you would give a sibling. Wishing you a good flight and see you later before leaving. He hadn’t even waited for you to board the plane.

 There were so many things you had wanted to say to him. You want to tell him you loved him, that you would fight for him. More so you wanted him to fight for you, for the years you had spent together. To fight for the promises he made to you, the ones you made together and the ones to come. You wanted to apologize for not being enough, but you couldn’t find the right words, so you watched him walk out of your life.

 I heard a rumor you've been spending some time With that blonde girl that you work with and I know she's exactly your type And my miserable mind's running wild with the picture Or are you there by yourself, dialing, redialing my number? And I'm calling your mother, spilling tears on my jumper again The way I am

I know it's cruel But I kind of hope you're tortured too

 1 month later, Chase’s mother, Jennifer, had called you because she had seen the announcement on Instagram. The two of you had been close while dating Chase considering how close he was with her. Your mother lived down south, and you didn’t get to see her that often, so Jennifer was a close second.

 You had heard rumors from Drew and Rudy about Chase and Maddie hanging out together more, and it didn’t come as a shock to you. In the last bit of your relationship, you played second fiddle to her on multiple occasions. “It’s probably nothing, it because they have scenes together.” Rudy would make excuses over facetime when he watched your face drop at the mention of her name. “Yeah, you’re probably right, nothing to get worked up over.” You responded in a less then convincing tone, “she seemed super cool the couple of times I met her.” “Yeah she is. I think under different circumstances the two of you could have been friends.” He encouraged.

 When the nights started to get cold in LA again you found yourself struggling to sleep. It was at these times you would reread old text messages and look through old pictures of the two you. You knew it wasn’t healthy, but you weren’t ready to move on. Chase had extra time to mourn the lose of the relationship while you were still grieving. It was on these cold nights alone in the apartment you shared that you began to wonder if he was thinking about you. Was he sitting next to her thinking about you? Was he wondering whether he should call you or just delete your number?

 Tell me, does your heart stop at the party when my name drops? Like you're stood at the platform when the trains cross Are you hurting, yeah you must be Or is it just me? Tongue-tied, screaming on the inside When I say that we broke up and they ask why Are you crying in the shower like a freak? Or is it just me?

 It was early in the morning in North Carolina and Chase was sitting on the patio of his shared apartment with Rudy. The sun was just starting to rise in the distance as he found himself restless yet again. He had been awake for about an hour just laying in his bed when he finally decided to get up. He was careful not to wake the sleeping girl next to him. She felt different next to him compared to you. When the two of you slept together you always liked to be the big spoon. Chase let you, finding comfort being wrapped up in bed next to you. Maddie was different, she preferred to lay her head on his chest, letting the sound of his beating heart lull her into sleep.

 Not soon after Rudy came on the patio too, and Chase cursed him for being a night owl. “Not tired?” Rudy asked pulling out the bong they kept under the table. “No, and I didn’t want to wake Mads’” Chase spoke up tossing Rudy the lighter next to him watching the blonde inhale the smoke.

 “I can’t stop thinking about her.” Chase finally spoke up, keeping a hushed tone just in case. “Oh yeah?” “I shouldn't have left her like that. It wasn’t fair to her I just didn’t know what to do.” Chase explained and Rudy didn’t need to be a love doctor to know he was talking about you.

 “It’s been 2 weeks, she’s okay.” Rudy explained and Chase gave him a confused look. “When you guys broke up, I stayed in touch with her. She was mine friend too, and I felt bad that we all sort of dropped her when you guys broke up.” Chase nodded his head in understanding but was still jealous that Rudy got to talk to you. “Why did you break up with her? Not that I’m judging, I just thought things were going good between the two of you.”

 It was Chase’s turn to have a hit from the bong while he thought of his answer. “Shit man I don’t know. Things just feel different with Maddie then they did Y/N. I didn’t mean for it to happen, but it did.” “Are you sure you’re not feeling too much as an actor oppose to being a person. Sometimes having a love interest on show can be different and confusing.” The blonde tried explaining to him but even he saw the demise of the relationship before Chase start acting with Madelyn. “Do you think she’ll ever forgive me?” Chase asked looking at Rudy and he could tell by the look in his eyes that it was doubtful. “You hurt her man. I think maybe one day, but not right now. I think right now she’s just trying to figure out how to do this without you.” Rudy could see the few tears in Chase’s eyes, and he knew that this wasn’t easy on him ether.

 Chase got up but before leaving he spoke one more time. “If you talk to her again, just tell her that I never meant to hurt her the way I did.” Chase still wasn’t sleepy but the effects of the marijuana did aid in his problem, so he finished off with a shower. He turned the water to steaming hot and then got in. He let the water soak his hair while he wondered what you were doing right now. It only took a few more minutes for the tears to start. Chase stayed another hour in the shower wondering if he made the right decision.

 'Cause this would be one whole lot easier God, I know that's selfish but it's true If underneath some calm exterior You're all fucked up too

 The first few months of quarantine had been rough on you working from home. You also felt alone all the time but seeing Chase’s Instagram post sent you spiraling down another unhealthy path. You had just started to get better. You weren’t drinking as much, and you had let your friends set you up on a group date. You knew you weren’t ready for another relationship just yet, but you also couldn’t hide in your apartment for the rest of your life.

 You had also been talking to Rudy a lot more. He had been your biggest support through all of this. He had flown back to LA a couple weeks ago to help you move to a new apartment. You figured if you were going to move on you had to move from the place you spent the most time with Chase. It was bittersweet because not only did you have good memories at the home with Chase, but those memories extended to your other friends as well. Rudy had ensured you that you would make knew memories in your new place.

 But when you woke up on June 14, 2020 you almost had a heart attack. It had been 3 months and 13 days to the day, and he had already moved on. Now you were stuck trying to grabble with the emotions you were feeling. In some messed up way at first you didn’t want him to be happy. You wanted him to hurt the way you did, but you knew it wasn’t right. There was a small part of you that was happy that he was now happy.

 Then you were reminded that you owed Chase his half of the damage deposit. Rudy had told you they all moved back to LA and were waiting for season one to come out. You debated on just giving the money to Rudy for him to pass along, but you also wanted to face Chase, to show him that you were now okay even it was a lie.

 You took the latter of the chooses and sent him a text. (Y/N) It’s Y/N, I have your half of the damage deposit from the apartment. I can drop it off or you can pick it up if you want. You stared at the text message for fifteen minutes before sending it. It only took five for him to answer and you dashed to look at the phone. (C) Oh shit I forgot about that. I mean if you want to keep it, that’s fine. You scowled at the text. You didn’t need or want his pity money. (Y/N) I’m fine without it, if your busy I can send it with Rudy the next time he’s here. (C) Okay, no that’s fine I can come by today and get it just air drop me your address. You did just that deciding against messaging him back.

 Chase’s heart fluttered a little when he saw your name come up on his phone. He hadn’t heard from you in months, and he assumed it was going to be about the post on his Instagram. He made the decision that Maddie made him the happy he wanted to be and left you. He had just gotten back in town when you told him about the deposit, and he didn’t mind letting you keep the money. It was the least he could do after everything he put your though. His heart sank when you declined his offer but lite back up when you offered for him to come over.

 Tell me, does your heart stop at the party when my name drops? Like you're stood at the platform when the trains cross Are you hurting, yeah you must be Or is it just me? Tongue-tied, screaming on the inside When I say that we broke up and they ask why Are you crying in the shower like a freak? With only cigarettes for company? Are you crying in the shower like a freak? Or is it just me?

 He honestly thought of this as his chance to apologize for everything that happened. You didn’t deserve for him to treat you like that, and he owed you an explanation. He drove over to your house, white knuckled the whole way. You lived in a small, gated apartment building and he remembered Rudy telling Maddie B. about it. He remembered Rudy saying how excited you were for a new place, and he wasn’t sure if Rudy was just saying that to upset him. Every time Rudy mentioned something about you it always made his heart sink underground and he was reminded about the way he treated you.

 Chase started to walk up the stairs to your apartment once you buzzed him in but to his surprise you were waiting outside on the step. You looked tired and had lost weight which worried him because you were small to begin with. “Hey.” He spoke not really knowing what else to say. “Hi.” You said and he could hear how sore your voice sounded almost like you had been crying. You were smoking, which was something new, but he figured this was just as stressful for you as it was him You handed him an envelope with his name on it. “Uh, I cleaned the whole apartment, and nothing was broken so we could all the money back. Your half is in there, so I just need your key to give to the landlord.” You explained looking at Chase. He pulled his keys from his pocket fumbling with the ring.

 “Y’know, I never meant”- “Please don’t” “Please don’t want?” Chase looked at you confused. He thought you wanted an apology. “I can’t listen to it Chase. I know it’s mean, but I’m not ready to hear you apologize. I’m just starting to get better, and I don’t need you to set me back again.” You explained looking him the eyes. He flinched when you said again. He handed the key back to you. “Thanks, I hope everything works out. I’ll make sure to watch the show.” You smiled at him and he didn’t realize how much he missed seeing you smile. He returned the smile before turning on his heels to leave. “For the record Y/N, you weren’t the only one to get hurt in this.” And it was your turn to flinch at his words. “I guess grief looks better on some people.” And with that you escaped back into your apartment sliding down the door letting out a silent cry. What you didn’t know was that Chase was going back to his car to the same thing.

TAGLIST:

@drewstarkeysbitchh @taylathornton @jjmaybankzz @lemur46

[goddess-of-green]

can i request a modern one shot where reader and obito are separated due to quarantine?? Maybe he got stuck on a business trip in another state/country and they can't see each other for months? leading to his s/o breaking down without the comfort of their loved one?

Okay, this one got me in the feels

(it's a little angsty but there's a happy ending)

Warnings: Long distance, coronavirus, slight angst

"Ugh, this sucks, but I have to take this call. Talk to you later?"

You frowned as the words left Obito's mouth. This was the first time you guys got to video call in a while and it had only been a few minutes.

He had been out of state on a business trip, staying with one of his relatives when coronavirus hit and everyone was told to quarantine.

That was two months ago, and his business had long since been taken care of. Though he was still stuck out of state and it wasn't safe for him to travel all the way back just to see you.

You understood, of course. But it didn't stop the loneliness of waking up in an empty bed everyday. Or the empty feeling of living and returning home in complete silence. You couldn't even call with him everyday because he was still working.

You sighed, and Obito frowned.

"I know, baby. I'm sorry. I hate that this is happening. I miss you."

You smiled, but it didn't quite reach your eyes.

__

This went on for another month and your mental health started to deteriorate.

Work was stressful and you had gotten used to spending your days with Obito. He was an emotional anchor and being without him was starting to depress you.

You would wake up, work, and be alone the entire day. It was an awful cycle and you were reaching your limit.

It was right after you had an emotional breakdown that you heard your phone ring.

You wiped the tears from your eyes just enough to read the contact, your face still wet as your lip quivered.

It was Obito.

This was the first time he had called you in two weeks. He had been texting you, apologizing profusely every time work got in the way of you two interacting.

Your breathing was shaky and your eyes were still red and puffy from crying, but you weren't going to miss the opportunity to talk to him.

You accepted the call and sat the phone on your bed so it would show the ceiling instead your messy face.

"Hey, Y/N! Sorry I've been so busy! It's good to finally talk to you again!"

Obito's eager voice rang out as his face overtook your phone screen, and you gave a watery smile at the sight.

You muttered a small "yeah" in response and Obito's brows furrowed.

"...Y/N? You okay? Can I see your face?'

You gulped, grabbing your phone with a shaky hand and bringing it to show your face.

You nearly grimaced at your reflection as Obito's eyes widened.

"Y/N? Have you been crying? What's wrong baby?" Obito sounded so concerned, and it only made you sad all over again as you sniffed.

"N-Nothing, it's just... I really miss you." Tears started to spill over again and you hurriedly wiped at them.

Obito frowned.

"Baby... I'm so sorry. I miss you so much. I hate this. I hate to see you cry..."

You wiped at your tears, apologizing as you tried to calm yourself down.

Obito stayed on call with you for multiple hours, telling you that he loved you and it would all be okay, and that everything would be better soon. Even when you calmed down, he didn't let you leave the call until he was sure you were alright.

It eventually started to get late, and Obito reluctantly let you go since you both needed to sleep at a reasonable time.

You smiled, wishing Obito goodnight and telling him you loved him before ending the call. You felt a lot better from Obito's sweet words and reassurance.

Though your smile slowly faded as a thought ran through your mind.

His words would sound much better if he were here, whispering them into your hair

And suddenly it was back; the ache to be in his arms and to be around him again. To see him, to feel him, to smell him, to be held by him.

You felt the familiar burn at the corners of your eyes and you went to bed before you could entertain those thoughts again.

__

You woke up blearily the next morning, a banging noise causing you to stir.

It took you a few seconds to realize that it was knocking, and you sighed; tempted to ignore it and go back to sleep.

The sun was up though, and it could be important, so you slowly got out of bed and made your way to the door.

You opened it, uncaring of your tired and disheveled appearance.

Your eyes widened as you saw who as at your door.

There in all of his glory, tall and in a button up—something he normally wore when working or going out—was your boyfriend, Obito.

You had never been happier to see him in your entire life, and as a smile graced his features and he brought his arms around you, you felt tears threatening to fall.

"O-Obito, you're here!"

Your arms shot up to wrap around his neck, and he lifted you up and spun you around.

He put you down after a moment, pressing a kiss to your lips, his hands coming up to cup your cheeks as he tried to convey all of his feelings into the kiss.

You kissed back just as passionately. You couldn't believe Obito was here; and you weren't sure how, but you weren't complaining. You were more than happy to see him and you didn't ever want him to leave.

You two didn't pull away until you were out of breath, and he rested his forehead against yours for a moment, gazing into your eyes.

"O-Obito... how are you here?"

Obito smiled, kissing you again before answering.

"I couldn't wait to see you."

__

You smiled, utterly content in Obito's arms as you both cuddled.

You were tired, and enveloped in Obito's warmth, leaving you drowsy and on the verge of dozing before a thought came to your mind. Something you had been trying to work yourself up to ever since Obito came back.

"Hey... Obi..." You muttered into his chest, catching his attention as his hand that had been stroking your hair paused.

"What is it, baby?"

You leaned back, sitting up slightly to look Obito in the eyes.

You smiled at his appearance. He was shirtless and in sweatpants, his hair sticking up and he still managed to be the most handsome man you'd ever seen.

Suddenly a little shy, you looked down, you hands tracing his shoulders and chest as you spoke.

"Well... social distancing got me thinking, and... Obito..."

You were beyond nervous now, and Obito tilted his head, confused and slightly nervous at what you were getting at.

Being away from him didn't make you realize you didn't like him, right? What if you found you were better without him, and wanted to break up?

Obito bit his lip, his brows furrowing. "Y/N... w-what is it?"

You looked up at him, a determined look in your eyes.

"I want to marry you, Obito."

Obito was shocked. His eyes widened and his mouth was open, but he didn't register that as he processed your words.

"You... you- really?" He asked, dumbstruck.

You blushed, pulling away slightly.

"Yes. I love you Obito. The distance was hard and... I don't want to be away from you like that ever again."

Obito smiled as the words finally registered in his mind, a smile so big it hurt his cheeks and his chest fluttered as he hugged you. Squeezing you tight as his bottom lip quivered.

"You- fuck, Y/N. I-I love you too. I'd love to marry you. I love you so much."

Teary eyed and love struck, you both stayed wrapped up in each other for as long as you wanted.

[chrisevansgoodgirl]

if you’re going crazy, just grab me and take me

summary: after the worst year with this fucking family, Ransom proposes on ❄️ chrstmas eve  ❄️ it obviously doesn’t go over as well as his emotionally-stunted ass thought it would.

warnings: every god damn word in this thing is a problem. rough smut. choking, anal, hair-pulling, biting, this shit makes the first chapter seem light, i’ll just say that. a lot of fighting. verbal and physical. there’s some fluff but don’t let ransom trick you like he’s obviously tricked me.

word count: this shit is almost 25,000 fucking words 😂😂😂. i dead ass kept being like why the fuck am I taking so long to post this? Then I saw the word count and I 😳🤭🤗😂 someone pls tell me i did not just devote 25,000 words to exposing myself as a weak ass hoe for Ransom. pls tell me this is a fever dream. i can’t.

pairing: ransom drysdale x reader

a/n: holy fuck, am i a disaster. i apologize, i kept falling asleep and wow, i’m just confused about my entire process for writing this bc it was abnormal af.

part one: x part two: x (however, you don’t really need to read them to understand this mess? pretty sure.)

Christmas Eve:

It somehow felt that the entire hellscape that you were currently living in had simultaneously transpired yesterday but also years ago. That was the common feeling one was left with in times of so much exposure to Thrombeys. It was a whirlwind, but there were the good moments, and then the really bad moments, but then the kind of fun moments… It was a rollercoaster, honestly. One you had incorrectly believed you could cope with.

Meg and Joni had called you in a panic from the ski lodge they’d gone to in Canada. There was talk of stopping all flights, how were they going to get home? And lord, what about their home? Were they really supposed to stay there? Since being cut off, Joni had made some career moves that were smart, but she still had to scale back. They were in a much smaller place than before, one that was only temporary—Joni claimed as much about one million times while signing the papers for it.

Jacob had been the next to call, a hysterical Donna could be heard in the background. They had also been moving into another home because of financial issues. You weren’t sure what the ploy was with having Jacob call. Out of everyone in the family, he was the one you spoke to the least, maybe in competition with his irritating mother. Perhaps that had been the angle, were you really going to leave them isolated with their possibly murderous son in such a small house in an unknown neighborhood?

The answer was no. You weren’t going to leave out any Thrombeys. The Drysdales, on the other hand… You had made your terms quite clear. So, with the news of a quarantine sweeping across the country, these overprivileged people flocked to the house they had once called their own. But it was your house now, and that meant it was well within your right to exclude Linda and Richard.

The night you had told Ransom about it was…quite a night.

March: the arrival,

Your grand idea was to deliver the news quickly, over a drink when he was in the best mood he could be. You casually told him that Joni and Meg would be arriving first, then Walt, Donna, and Jacob.

He stared for a long time before simply stating, “I will not let them in the house.”

You rolled your eyes. “Ransom—”

He leaned forward, slamming his glass down on the table between you. “It’s not happening.”

You arched an eyebrow. Was he trying to be intimidating? Oh, you would be just terrified if you were an elderly author or poor nurse tasked with caring for the mentioned author. Seeing as you were his girlfriend, he was out of luck on that.

“I will lock the doors,” he declared, standing to place his hands on his hips. “Not one of those assholes is getting in here. You understand me?”

Instead of answering, you grabbed your drink and returned to the magazine in your lap. That was probably Ransom’s greatest source of irritation, when you decided you were done with the dramatics and ignored him.

He scoffed. “The fact that you think this is happening… It just goes to show—you call me a narcissist, but clearly, you are the narcissist! It takes one to know one!”

It takes one to know one? “Are you five?”

He crossed his arms over his chest.

With a soft sigh, you turned the page. It was silent for several seconds and you weren’t sure if he was trying to build up to something or if he just had nothing else left to try. Whatever it was, you told yourself you were ready for it. How many years was it now? You couldn’t be surprised anymore.

“Are you only with me for sex?”

And you stood corrected. Narrowing your eyes, you looked up at him. “I’m sorry?”

“You clearly don’t care about my feelings—”

“Ransom, seriously, shut up. This is happening, okay? Your family is scared right now, you could try being human. This was their home for a time, of course, they want to be somewhere they feel comfort—”

“No, I’m putting my foot down.”

You rolled your eyes again. “You don’t have a foot to put down. This is my house, too.”

“Too,” he repeated firmly. “Too!”

“Ransom,” you snapped, getting to your feet and throwing the magazine on the table. “Stop acting like a child. They will be here tomorrow. I’m going to bed and if you wanted to join me, that would be great.”

He sat back down, a clear indication that that was not happening.

Things with Ransom, since the last argument, hadn’t been as tense as you thought they would be. Majorly, nothing really changed. Well, sex changed. You guys just weren’t doing that, which was major, because of the rate at which it had been occurring. But other than that, nothing changed. He wasn’t ignoring you, he wasn’t not touching you, there was very simple no sex. At all. But was that something you were okay with? Hell no. It was getting old and you were getting fucking tired of it.

“Fine, if you don’t, just know that I am keeping track.”

“Track?” he narrowed his eyes. “Of what?”

“How many nights I’ve slept without you and how many nights you’ve gone without fucking me.”

“After your last indiscretion, did you really expect anything else? Which you still haven’t apologized for, by the way.”

“Apologize?” you scoffed. “For keeping a fucking vibrator? What do you want me to say, Ransom? Sorry that I have yet to give you total control over my body?”

“That is exactly what I want to hear.”

Without another word, you simply rolled your eyes at him and stormed off to the room you had once upon a time shared with your boyfriend. Not that he officially moved out. In fact, he was still sleeping in there and kept his shit in there. But he was not falling asleep with you nor was he was present when you woke up.

You had no idea what he was doing in there and you were trying to be human, unlike Ransom. Everyone deserved privacy. Besides, he’d made you your sunroom and it afforded him a lot of forgiveness. It was this tiny extension of the house that had huge windows and was just small enough to fit your yoga mat, a couch, and about a billion plants. You read there a lot, you also escaped Ransom a few times. You could understand his desire for an office. But as frequently as he was using it? That was scary.

Admittedly, it was difficult to stay mad at him when you walked through the house that you’d almost now completely rebuilt together. The only exclusion being the office. It had been one of those Harlan rooms that you’d never actually been in prior because you were not family. Weeks ago, you watched Ransom remove everything, add new things, but you still hadn’t been inside. He didn’t so much tell you that it was his own personal room, but it was very clear in how he locked the door. Like, all the time.

You had already been prepping for bed, knowing that the discussion was going to be exhausting. You threw yourself straight into bed, not overly optimistic about the possibility that you were going to fall asleep.

Maybe it was the argument, the mention, the acknowledgment that you guys weren’t having sex. Did he even care? It didn’t seem like it. That caused concern for you. You’d always thought that you would be much older when the two of you would be having no sex. You wondered if things were changing, if your relationship was changing.

Officially, it was hopeless. You were not going to fall asleep. You were just about to get back up when you heard him walking up the stairs, you froze, held your breath, hoped that maybe he wanted to end this. Instead, he walked by the room and to the end of the hall, where said office was.

Fine, fuck him. You just had to get up and moving, there was no shortage of shit you had to prepare. Jacob, though terrible, was family, and a teenage boy. You were going to set him up in a smaller room on the bottom floor. Harlan usually had live-in staff stay in that room if they ever fell on hard times. You figured he would enjoy the privacy. Walt might even enjoy not sleeping in the same room as the next Ted Bundy.

Meg’s room was the most used since she stopped by on weekends sometimes when Ransom was gone for the day or stayed out late. They always met in the kitchen when morning came to argue and give you a headache, however.

She probably needed towels in the bathroom. She might even end up wanting different sheets. Jacob would need more sheets. Was there a color you should give him in the case that the little psycho killed someone, if you wanted to prevent stains? Joni’s room had been cleared out except for major furniture so you wanted to get that set before the morning. You had intended to set all of this up at some horribly early hour, but you were too annoyed to try sleeping. What better time than now?

Did you even have food? You would probably need to go to the store in the morning. You would make a careful list and ensure that no one would need to leave the house again because you were not going to let one of these rich idiots get you sick. Food, sheets because as you were walking through the linen closet, you discovered that you didn’t have really any sets of sheets. Then, you would need laundry detergent, fabric softener. Not all the rooms had pillows—

“What the hell are you doing?”

Ransom found you madly scribbling on a notepad in the center of Joni’s room. You didn’t bother to look at him when you answered, “Making a shopping list.”

“May I ask what for?”

“We have no sheets or pillows or food…or really anything, Ransom. Are we fucking vampires?”

He sighed as he made his way to you. “Okay, it’s time for bed.”

“Go away if you’re not going to be helpful.”

“No, get up now.” But he was met with nothing but silence. Instead of trying another round of verbal communication, he effortlessly grabbed your arms and picked you up.

“Ransom!”

He abruptly took your face in his hands. “They’re lucky they even get to be here. You’re not doing a single thing for these people.”

“Stop, okay? This is our house, we have to have these things—”

“No, you stop. Stop trying to do anything for them because no matter what, they’re going to complain.”

You glared. “Are you trying to help? Just go back to your stupid office and leave me be.”

He arched an eyebrow at you. “It is time for bed. I’m taking you to the room—”

“I’m just going to sneak out as soon as you leave for your office, so don’t waste my time or yours—”

He abruptly threw you up over his shoulder.

“Ransom!” you shrieked in absolute panic, he had never done this. Dragged you kicking and screaming? Yes. Literally pulled you along the floor by your legs? Yes. This? No, not once.

He was quick to get to the room, worried about how exactly you would react, what you were willing to do to make him drop you. He tossed you down on the mattress.

“You’re such an ass! I have to—”

He silenced you by pulling off his T-shirt.

So, he interrupted you because he wanted to have sex? After he had been withholding it? You feigned an unbothered expression. “Ransom, fuck off.”

He scowled. “Why did I have to find you? Why did life bring you to me? Personally, the meaningless fucking was fine for me, a lot less trouble.”

You scoffed. “Do you think I like being with you?! You’re the worst person I’ve ever fucking met, possibly the worst person on this fucking planet!”

He rolled his eyes. “Get on your knees.”

“You are not serious.”

“I am.”

“No, you’re seriously fucking insane, but you’re not serious in that you actually think that’s going to happen!”

“Get. On. Your. Knees. You can do it on your own or I can do it for you.”

You weighed your options. You wanted to have sex with your boyfriend, you wanted to be close to him. However, if he left you after you sucked him off, you might end up killing him. But what could you do? Ransom was apparently in a mood.

Whatever theatrics that were going to occur tonight were already planned, you realized. If he was going to walk away, he was going to walk away. No amount of arguing or any other behavioral tactics were going to change that. You would hit him, you were sure of that, but at least you could get back to making your home presentable.

You reached back for a pillow and gave him a challenging look. He arched an eyebrow at you as you slowly jumped off the bed, laid your pillow at his feet and got to your knees.

“The fuck is this? You suddenly a princess?”

“I’ve always been a princess,” you declared. “One day, a wonderful man or woman, who’s going to give me an even bigger house, is going to know it.”

He glared. “What the fuck is your problem? Do I need to start paying you to keep your mouth shut?”

You snorted. “You have money?”

And that was, apparently, a line crossed for Ransom. Furiously, without another word, he yanked his pants open and shoved them down with his boxers.

Instead of staring at his cock in front of your face, you looked up at him.

He sighed. “Y/N, suck my cock.”

You shrugged. “Why?”

He took himself in one hand and grabbed your hair in the other. He brought your mouth to the head of his cock and waited patiently. You did nothing, simply kept your gaze on him. Rolling his eyes, he pulled at your hair.

You attempted to keep your lips clamped but he continued yanking until you opened your mouth to cry out. Then, without hesitation, he shoved his cock down your throat. You gagged instantly, hands snapping up to shove at his thighs. He wouldn’t budge, he kept you there no matter how hard you tried to push him away—which, admittedly, since you were so wet, wasn’t very hard—or how many times you gagged.

His free hand touched your cheek. “You’re fucking beautiful like this.”

He could fuck off—as soon as he was done coming, you would walk away. You didn’t even want to be fucked by him anymore. But sadly, you had missed the taste of him, the feel of his skin on your tongue.

When he finally pulled you off his cock, you gasped for air. Then, once again, he was thrusting back in. You were choking on him, eyes watering, throat burning, drooling, sniffling, hands begging to be let up again with how hard they gripped his thighs.

But Ransom only let you off when he wanted. The second time, he allowed you to try to catch your breath. Your head was spinning since you were not quite getting oxygen back fast enough. You were blinking away those tiny black spots appearing behind your eyes. He used one hand to wipe away the tears on your cheeks and whatever was falling down your chin.

Then he was bringing you down once more. Holding you in place, he began fucking your mouth slowly, gently, two words that normally did not apply to Ransom. He took his time, he wanted you aching and craving him, and you really fucking were. You thought you wouldn’t feel a thing if he walked away after thing, but now, you knew you were going to set that office on fire if he tried it.

As he neared his end, he grew noisier. You liked that about Ransom, he didn’t hold back due to some insane fragile masculinity thing—no, that was often displayed in less conventional ways. He liked fucking you and he liked letting you know.

He picked up speed eventually, paying no mind to the sounds of you choking every time he thrust in a tad too hard. You didn’t even care, you knew you would be soaking wet, if you just reached down and felt…

He yanked you down when he was coming, buried deep in your throat, reveling in the feel of your throat moving around him, trying not to choke, trying to breathe. “Don’t make a mess, baby, swallow everything I’m giving you.”

You tried, really, you were not just playing your usual game of disobedience. But he really was choking you, so when you tried to swallow, things did not go according to plan. You gagged, nothing was swallowed. A mess you did create. On him, the floor, yourself, the pillow.

Ransom pulled you off and then grabbed your arm to haul you up. His hand still in your hair, he forced you to look up at him, bending your neck back almost uncomfortably. You were still struggling with lack of oxygen and just about fell into him completely, clearly being bratty was not on your mind.

He waited patiently, as if he wanted an explanation. No, you did not intend to do the opposite of what he had told you, but you weren’t about to let him know that. “Baby,” he cooed. His hand slid up from your arm to your neck where some of his cum was sliding down toward your chest. “What was what?”

“Out of practice, I guess. It’s been months since you’ve touched me.” Okay, it had just barely been two months yesterday, but if he could be dramatic, you were allowed as well.

He arched an eyebrow. “Considering you only need to say one word to me, I don’t think you really want it that bad.”

“You’re right, I don’t.”

His expression fell. He had hoped you would desperately blurt out an apology, clearly. Without another word, he shoved you onto the bed.

You stared up at him, face composed. “Don’t you have an office to be in?”

“You seem very jealous of that office, baby.”

“Why would I be? I finally get to be away from you.”

He leaned forward and grabbed your shorts and panties. The way he ripped them off you was damn near violent. You both wanted something rough tonight. “Then why is your pussy wet?”

You shrugged. “Couldn’t be for you. I can’t remember the last time you made me come.”

He leaned over, slowly crawling his way up your body.

Without prompt, you reached between your bodies and pulled your shirt over your head, arching a little more than necessary.

He took your forearms and pinned them to the bed. “Tell me how bad you need me.”

You shook your head. “I don’t.”

“I’m not joking.”

“I’m not joking,” you countered. “I. Don’t. Need. You.”

He took your jaw in one hand, forcing you to meet his stare. “Y/N, seriously.”

He really wasn’t joking, but again, neither were you. “Ransom, if you walk out before you fuck me, I will leave you. Do you understand me? I’ll fucking disappear, and you will never ever see me again.”

He smirked. “I understand.”

“I need you,” you breathed, free arm sliding around his shoulder, clinging tight. “I really fucking need you. I need you inside me. You know it’s been too long.”

Smiling like he just won the lottery, he rolled onto his side a little, turning your hips with him. “Yes,” he agreed. “Too long, baby, I’m sorry.”

You knew he wasn’t. You felt his tip at your entrance and you held your breath. He was a dick, yes, but you had been absolutely starving for his touch, his attention.

He pressed inside and it stung almost as bad as it had the first time. You turned your head away, hand pressed to your mouth to keep quiet. You hadn’t noticed your eyes were filled with tears until he touched your cheek and you blinked in surprise. You weren’t sure what you were crying about, the pain or the relief of finally feeling him.

You kept yourself turned from him, hoping he would just drop it. Of course, he wouldn’t. Of course, the one time you were willing to give Ransom a pass to be a complete ass, he wouldn’t want to take it.

“Sorry, baby girl,” he cooed. He had stopped, letting you adjust to him. However, Ransom didn’t have an ounce of patience and you knew his restraint was slipping. “I’m sorry, I’ll make it better.”

You also knew he wasn’t sorry. You squeezed your eyes shut until he was buried inside you. Feeling so full was something you had missed but feeling wanted was what you had been longing for. He could say the words, he could give you lingering looks when you were wearing a dress or a tight top, but it wasn’t the same. It didn’t convince you like when he just grabbed you and used you to satisfy every sick desire he had.

He grabbed your face and forced you to turn back but your eyes were shut. Instead of trying to get you to look at him, he kissed you. His lips moved over yours until you were finally curling into him, his arm wrapped around your back and pinned you against him.

Intimate, close, slow, but so fucking hard, that was how he made you come the first time. There were no words, just grabbing each other, gasping into the kiss, biting one another’s lips, tongue and teeth, scratching nails, pulling hair. He watched your face as you were coming down, hips still snapping up, fingers brushing along your cheeks.

He rolled onto his back and brought you with him. You hissed at the ache of this new angle, using your knees to pull off just a little. He took your hands and set them to the headboard. The way he stared up at you, like he was worshiping every inch of you, it made your skin burn.

“Ride me,” he ordered.

Hands gripping the bed, your hips began to roll. Ransom stared the whole time, where his cock was disappearing inside you, your moving breasts, your gorgeous, soft body. He used one hand to pinch your nipples alternatively and the opposite hand to focus solely on your clit.

You were breathless, shaking, chasing after that climbing high. You let the headboard go in favor of grabbing his hands, dragging them up to circle around your neck. As he began to apply pressure, you continued bouncing on his cock, unashamedly screaming now that he was stifling the noise.

Watching your eyes fill with tears, hearing those strangled sounds tear from your throat, it was enough to get him there as soon as your cunt started to tighten. He was coming with you, squeezing your neck tighter, so tight you tried to pull his hands off you.

But it was futile, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. He threw you down, rolling over so he was on top of you. You wrapped your legs around him, spreading your thighs and taking him in deeper.

He set one hand to the mattress to hold himself up but kept his other hand on your neck. He leaned over, forehead pressing to yours, breathing hotly against your skin. “Say it again.”

“Say what?” you choked out.

“You know.”

You always knew. He had only asked you for this one other time since you’d said it that first night. You stopped caring that he was probably never going to say it back. “I love you.”

His hips finally stilled. You weren’t sure what his response was going to be, but you knew what it wasn’t going to be. Yes, you’d stopped caring, but were you okay with it? You weren’t entirely convinced. But what were you going to do? Leave Ransom? That seemed highly unlikely.

So, you decided to speak before he could. “Even though you’re a fucking loser.”

He scoffed, shaking his head. “And I guess you’re hot enough to keep around even if that mouth annoys the hell out of me.”

That, you suspected, was as close as he was going to get to ever stating his feelings for you. “Are you going to let me get back to my list?”

He rolled his eyes. “No. Not done yet.”

You arched an eyebrow. “Really? You lasted, like, three minutes—”

He gave you a sharp look. “Must be my age, I guess I’ll need a minute before I can go again. But you, baby girl,” he grabbed one of your hands and brought your fingers up to his lips.

You watched closely as he kissed every knuckle before he brought your hand down and pressed your first two fingers to your clit. You shuddered. “Ransom, wait—”

“Since you like getting yourself off so much, you’re going to—”

You sighed. “Ransom, please—”

“And I’m going to watch until I’m ready to fuck you again.”

You pouted up at him. “You said it was time for bed.”

“I changed my mind.” He pulled your legs from around him and sat back to watch you. He pulled one thigh further from the other and gave you an expectant look. “I wasn’t asking, baby.”

For what felt like the first time in years, you were woken up by your boyfriend with his hand between your legs. You were laying on his chest, he was kissing the top of your head, tracing patterns along your spine and just barely teasing your clit.

All he needed to know was that you were awake and then had you pinned underneath him before you could say a word. Last night was nice but now the sun was shining through the blinds and you could see all of him. The freckles on his skin, the fine lines around his mouth because he does actually smile even if he doesn’t want anyone to know. And all his muscles—ugh.

“Good morning,” he said softly.

You smiled. “I have to get up and start getting ready.”

“No, baby. The only thing you need to do is open your legs so your boyfriend can fuck you like you deserve to be fucked.”

“Oh, deserve?” you scoffed. “I always deserve to be fucked. What changed your mind?”

He shrugged his shoulder. “Does it matter?”

Few things did when it really came down to your relationship with Ransom. It was all one huge give-and-take and neither of you shied away from taking advantage of that lack of communication.

He kept you there for nearly half an hour, insisting that you give him just one more finish, but he’d done that nearly four times. The reason you were able to escape was that there was someone at the door. As Ransom when to see who it was, you ran for the shower.

You were surprised when he joined you. One of your favorite things in your entire relationship was taking showers with Ransom, but it rarely happened. Whether that be because you were always on a time limit when you were getting ready or because he woke up later than you.

He wrapped his arms around your waist, chin resting on your shoulder.

“I miss taking showers with you, you’re warm.”

He turned to kiss your cheek. “You going shopping?” he muttered against your skin.

“Yeah, we don’t have anything either. We’re out of your favorite cookies, you know.”

He hummed. “Okay, just be safe. Wear a mask and try not to touch anything you don’t have to. Put everything in the back of your car, I put hand sanitizer in there so use it before you touch anything inside.”

You scoffed as you looked back, eyebrow arching. “You sound scared.”

He shrugged. “Well, you know… I just don’t want you to get sick.”

You smiled a little.

“Because I don’t want to have to take care of you.”

“Ugh, Ransom!” You brought your hand up to flick his forehead, but he caught your wrist and used the opposite hand to turn you around.

His arm slid across the small of your back and he picked you up to walk you to the shower wall. He pinned you against it completely, the shower head was almost directly over the two of you. Instead of attempting to watch him, you closed your eyes and pulled him into a kiss by his hair. He angled his hips up and easily thrust inside you.

Your mouth dropped and you gasped, he used that as his chance to bite down on your lip. You were sore between your legs, but the ache was a reminder that Ransom had put aside his pettiness because he had wanted you so badly. You brought your leg up to hook around his hip and used that as your leverage as you began to roll your hips.

He shuddered and bit harder on your lip still trapped between his teeth. He only let it go so he could turn down and press his mouth to your shoulder. “Slow baby, fuck me slow.”

You did as he directed. You slid off his cock and then slid back down, using all the restraint you could muster because you couldn’t wait until his broke. You couldn’t wait for him to grab you and take charge.

His hand slid between the two of you and he began pressing down on your clit, just slightly.

“I could kill you, Ransom,” you blurted out. “You better not ever go so long without touching me again.”

He nodded. “I promise, I will not.”

If you had a question about his tone, it died when his hands finally grasped your hips. “Tell me what you want.”

“Hard,” you pleaded. “So hard, please. I want to feel you all day, I want it to hurt until you’re inside me again.”

And goodness, did he make it hurt. He fucked you until you could no longer stand, until you weren’t able to coherently tell him that you weren’t sure you would ever be able to on your own again.

He had to set you on the floor of the tub when he knew it was time to get out. You weren’t sure why, and if you had been in a better mindset, you would have remembered the importance of always asking Ransom questions about his actions. However, all you could do was stay still, a little dizzy, vibrating pleasantly all over.

It somehow felt like hours but only seconds that he left you alone. When he was standing you back up, you still didn’t have the good sense to ask what the hell he was doing, but you absolutely melted when he pulled you from the shower and wrapped you up in a warm towel. A towel that had clearly just come out of the dryer—this man, that he could be so perfect and just chose not to be, deserved to be in jail. Yeah, the murder thing was a strike against him, you guessed, but this? Unforgivable.

When you got back home, there were several cars that you had never seen. Somehow, despite not getting an inheritance, the Thrombeys still knew how to make money. Which just made the whole Harlan thing even more annoying. Why all the dramatics? Rich people didn’t get poor the same way poor people got poorer. It was merely a showing of greed.

But you could not dwell on things like that, otherwise, this whole thing was going to go bad much quicker than you had suspected. You also couldn’t be the one that made it go bad. You weren’t an actual Thrombey or a Drysdale—and never would be since you fell in love with the least committal one of them all. You, despite extending your home and kindness, needed to be a lot more behaved than Ransom.

As you were bringing in the groceries, you glanced at the cars. There were five in total and you shuddered to think Jacob was driving. He was about that age, of course, but still, yikes. Meg and Joni probably showed up separately, which meant Donna and Walt did as well. Okay, weird, but you long ago stopped trying to guess why these people did what they did.

You wrestled with the front door for a moment and the noise of it brought in Joni and Meg. The older woman was completely decked out in crystals, unsurprisingly, you had just read an about how crystal shops were doing particularly well at this time.

“Hey, guys,” you greeted.

“Thank you so much for letting us stay here,” Meg immediately responded, taking some of the bags from your hands.

Joni followed her daughter’s lead. “Yes, honey, let us help you.”

Okay, suspicious. These people rarely did a thing that would constitute as the simplest of work—save for Meg, of course. “Thanks, but Ransom really should be helping me.” You gently pressed the door back with your leg, not shutting it completely but trying to keep the cold at bay. “Ransom!”

“He’s in the kitchen,” Joni informed.

“Great, we can head that way.”

On the walk there, you found Donna and Walt were in what was now one of many family rooms. They greeted you a tad overenthusiastically—regardless, you couldn’t stop, you’d just deal with it later.

“You didn’t need to go shopping for us,” Donna said.

“Oh, it’s fine,” you assured. “We needed a few things, I thought I’d get it done all at once so you guys wouldn’t need to worry about it.”

As if given a cue, they all began to thank you again. Again, you would need to deal with this when your arms were less full and there weren’t about a million bags in the back of your car.

You led the way to the kitchen, Meg and Joni on your tail. “Was the trip over here easy enough?”

“So weird,” Joni claimed. “People are literally going insane. I went to my usual crystal shop before I got here…”

Typical. She proceeded to tell you about how she had an “altercation” with a woman for a tiger’s eye finished into the shape of her animal spirit guide—which you were forgetting at the moment, a swan or something.

You stopped trying to recall those past conversations in case she quizzed you about what your animal was—she had stressed the importance of finding it and you promised you would the next time you saw her—when you saw Richard and Linda sitting at your kitchen table. Ransom was at the counter, a glass of whiskey in hand.

You merely glanced at them before turning to him. There were no words at all for the rage you felt at that moment. Joni had stopped speaking and was working to get the bags she’d taken from you onto a flat surface so she could grab the rest.

“Y/N!” Richard greeted. “Thank you so much for letting us stay here.”

You lifted your eyebrows at Ransom.

“She obviously didn’t know, Richard,” Linda pointed out. “Because she’s been trying to steal my son away since the day that she met him.”

You turned to her. “Are you—?”

“No, no, no,” Joni interjected. “She didn’t mean that!” She set the last of the bags down and touched your shoulder. “She’s joking!” She turned to Linda. “You’re joking, right?”

“Of course,” Linda claimed, unconvincingly with a smirk that you had come to recognize as smug. Not that you’d seen it much on her, but her son, on the other hand…

Speaking of Ransom, he looked beyond exhausted. Only, he wasn’t, he was just trying to convey that because it was clear that he didn’t intend to have this discussion with you. It never was a discussion, because, for some reason, he made all the excuses in the world for his mother and would obviously choose her over you.

Suddenly, in your mind, things all fell into place. Richard and Linda probably got here after all the others, the rest had been set to get there around noon. He’d kept you in bed to stop you from getting home before them because then you could keep them out of the house, you could have caused a huge scene. Now? It was clear that you were outvoted, the rest of the family probably would have thought of you as unreasonable if you kicked them out now.

Fine, it was all fine. You weren’t going to argue about this, not then. It would give Linda joy to see you have a complete meltdown. Ransom had already humiliated you enough by doing this completely behind your back, you weren’t going to give her anything else.

You turned to the counter to grab his keys. “Well, then you get to go back to the store.” You threw the keys at his chest, probably harder than you should have, and turned to head back out to your car.

It was silent until you exited the room, then Linda felt the need to voice her opinion no one asked for. “I’m just saying, I wouldn’t marry her. She’s shopping for essential items the day company was planned to arrive?”

You turned right back around but Meg was there to usher you back outside. She knew you needed a moment of fresh air and a moment away from Linda. Meg was a rather sympathetic person, she understood completely where you were coming from. In her mind, you were right and Ransom was so wrong for what he did, and Linda was wrong as well. But she also told you, this was how this family went. Linda was at the top now that Harlan was gone. If you sincerely wanted to be with Ransom—and she was confused about that—you would have to suck it up.

That much you agreed with, to an extent. It was clear that you were never going to be able to fix these people completely, but you were trying to create boundaries. Linda could not hit your boyfriend, her son. But how was she going to learn that if Ransom didn’t give a damn? She wasn’t.

You were suddenly wishing you’d accepted the invitation from your parents to stay with them until this all settled down. You had been too scared, however, because of the distance that seemed to be growing with Ransom. Now, you just felt like an idiot.

He lied to you. He did this behind your back, and he used intimacy to distract you from his plans, and that was absolutely disgusting. You couldn’t get over that. You felt used, by the one person you’re supposed to be able to trust more than anyone else in the world.

“Meg, can we have a minute?”

You turned away as soon as you heard Ransom off to your side. If you had a minute with him, you would probably murder him.

“Um,” she started, shifting awkwardly.

“It’s fine,” you assured. “Can you start putting away the groceries, please?”

“Yes, I will do that,” she eagerly confirmed. Meg liked to feel helpful, she often felt guilty about her privilege and wanted to be anything but another typical Thrombey. It was refreshing given all the other extreme personalities you would have to be living with for a while.

“I bought enough sheets for every single bed in the house for the next ten years,” you informed. “Those are fine. We’ll just need more food, probably—”

Ransom reached out for your arm, but you jerked away from him.

“Don’t touch me.”

“Hey—”

You finally turned to him. “I am not talking about this. You lied to me, you did this behind my back—”

“She’s my mom—”

“And I’m your girlfriend!” you hissed back. “And I am so fucking tired of this and you. Last night, you had sex with me to distract me so you could fucking sneak your parents in here. Who does that?!”

“That’s not why I had sex with you—”

“Really?” you demanded. No, you wouldn’t be having this talk, it wasn’t happening. Turning away, you sighed, “It doesn’t matter. I’m done talking to you about this, I’m serious. Do whatever the fuck you want, Ransom. That’s what you always do anyway. I’m done caring.”

“Look, we can’t be fighting with these people here—”

“You should have thought about that before you lied to me.”

“I didn’t lie—”

“I’m having a really hard time right now not running you over with my car,” you asserted, “So I’m going to go back inside. I just need you to go to the store for me, okay? Please, can you do one thing, literally, Ransom, just one thing to help me feel, like, 10% less stressed about all of this?”

“Okay. Yeah, I’ll go to the store.”

“Great.” You started to pull out more bags from the car.

“Can we talk about this later?”

“I don’t know yet.” Hell no, but you weren’t going to tell him that. With full arms, you stormed around him and back into the house.

Later, when he got home, he discovered that you had moved out of the bedroom. Yes, you had moved your shit to another room, locked it, and acted as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

April: the parents’ bedroom,

It was six in the morning, you had just failed at finishing your yoga routine due to your pounding headache. You’d thought a smoothie would make you feel much better, but see, that was with the condition that everyone else was still asleep.

Not the case.

Joni and Richard were currently in the middle of a debate about anti-maskers. Joni, surprisingly, given all her healing crystals shit, thought anti-maskers were idiots. Richard, on the other hand, believed this was a free country and people should have the right to choose anything and everything because “that’s America”.

You had a blender full of ingredients and when you finally got to turn it on, it was comparable to an orgasm. If only because you and Ransom were back to a no-touching arrangement. You could barely stand to look at him.

They seemed unbothered by the blender, their argument only getting louder. You went to the cabinet to grab some pills, anything that would make your head feel better. Could anything with these people? You weren’t overly optimistic about that prospect.

You took your place back at the blender, leaning down to fall into the pain of that instead of the politics conversation. They did this often. Last week, it was whether people should vote this November. Prior, it had been traveling bans, canceled events, whether unemployment should be giving people as much as they are. Linda and Walt interjected sometimes, even Meg because she couldn’t remain silent on a few occasions, but you, Ransom, and Jacob all but steered clear of it.

You felt a hand on your shoulder and stood up straight. You didn’t want anyone knowing you weren’t feeling well. Richard and Walt always acted like you were dying, Joni would start with her crystals and lectures about the importance of meditating.

Thankfully, it was just Ransom. He had been out, he was wearing a scarf, a heavy jacket, and his pale cheeks were flushed red. He nodded out of the room and you followed because silence seemed too tempting.

“What is it, Ransom?”

He narrowed his eyes. “I need a reason to speak to you?”

Your eyes fell shut and you pressed your fingers to your temples. He wasn’t being serious right now, was he? He wanted to have a conversation right now? You felt on the verge of death.

He touched your shoulder again. “Are you okay?”

“Just a headache. Not a big deal.”

“Not trying to be an ass—”

You opened your eyes. “But you’re so good at it.”

“I told you this was a bad idea.”

“Ransom,” you sighed, shrugging his hand off.

He caught you before you could turn away. “Hey.”

“Ransom, please, I don’t want to talk about this.”

“I don’t want to talk much either.”

You narrowed your eyes.

He shrugged. “You know I know how to make you feel better when you have a headache.”

You hummed. “Sex? Why? Are you trying to distract me again? Were you hoping I wouldn’t notice your inability to wake up at a reasonable hour for me, but how willing you seem to wake up at 5 in the morning to have coffee with your mommy?”

“I wasn’t asleep,” he insisted. “And she heard me come downstairs.”

“Yes, great cover. So convincing.”

“I do not wake up to have coffee with her every morning. I haven’t been sleeping well.”

You lifted your eyebrows. “Really?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

He glared. “It’s because I hate sleeping without you.”

“You made me sleep without you—!”

“That was not what you think!”

You narrowed your eyes. “It wasn’t a temper tantrum over the vibrator?”

“No, okay, stop. We’re not going back, okay? No talk about the past, we need to talk about now. You’re the one that made me promise that I wouldn’t withhold sex—”

“I’m not withholding sex, Ransom, I just have no desire to be around you.”

He rolled his eyes. “Doubt that.”

“If you’re having issues sleeping, maybe you should ask your mommy to read you a bedtime story and—”

He pressed his hand over your mouth and started dragging you across the room.

Immediately, you started screaming at him. What the fuck? And you continued to do this until you realized he was leading you to Richard and Linda’s room. Eww, if you didn’t want to talk to him, you certainly didn’t want to talk to her.

But despite your struggling, he forced you into the room and slammed the door before you could escape.

“What the hell?” you demanded.

“This fight is over.”

“No, it’s not!”

“You’re being ridiculous.”

“I’m being ridiculous because I care about you? I’m done, I can’t do this anymore. My parents want me to stay with them and I think I should—”

His eyes widened at you. “This is your god damn house—”

“You clearly don’t think so! I had one condition, just one fucking condition. I wanted her to apologize for trying to physically assault you and somehow that makes me the villain in this situation?”

“That’s not what I’m saying—”

“You went behind my back, Ransom.”

“I’m sorry about that.”

Wow, was that an actual apology? It didn’t matter. One apology a month later was too small. “Look, it’s too late, okay? I’m exhausted and I just want to go home—”

“This is your fucking home!”

“No, it’s your mother’s fucking home and it always will be if you let her do whatever the fuck she wants!”

“She apologized!”

“Oh, please,” you scoffed.

He reached into his pants and yanked out his phone. Easily, he found one of the last texts that they had exchanged and turned it to you.

Don’t tell your psycho, fragile girlfriend but I am sorry. I shouldn’t have acted the way that I did. I understand that it was out of line, it will not happen again. Can we come over? You know I don’t want to be alone with your father.

It took three seconds to go from partially angry to very, absolutely, completely outraged. You smacked the phone out of his hand and it clattered to the hardwood floor. “I’m going to fucking kill you, Ransom!”

He threw his arms up. “For what?!”

“Why didn’t you fucking tell me this earlier?!”

“She would have known that I told you.”

“And?!”

“And,” he began, “I…don’t really know what I thought would happen.”

You shoved at his chest and he didn’t even have the energy to step back simply to make you feel better. He didn’t move an inch because you shoving him was like a cat trying to push a lion. “You are such a fucking mommy’s boy! I’m done with this whole thing, I’m done with you!”

“No, you’re not!”

“Yes, I am! You can’t make me stay here, you can’t make me—”

“You love me!”

Your eyes widened. He made you tell him you loved him, never said it back, and now he was using it against you? “You are dead! Do you understand me?! I’m going to run you over with your fucking Beemer! Then I’m going to get a new boyfriend and I’m going to let him fuck me in that stupid fucking car!”

He grabbed a handful of your hair and your hands flew back to scratch at his forearm. He shoved you back onto the bed and made the mistake of rolling over to attempt to get away from him. He grabbed both of your wrists and managed to get them into one of his hands, then yanked down your yoga pants.

“You are tearing them, you ass!”

And then he smacked your bare skin hard enough that it echoed, loud enough that you were sure anyone in the kitchen could have heard it. Your entire body burned with humiliation, but you loved the pain. How had you survived so long without him doing this?

“Shut the fuck up,” he ordered.

“Are you seriously trying to fuck me in your parents’ room?” you snapped.

“No, I am going to fuck you in my parents’ room,” he corrected. “What? You’re not into this anymore? This wouldn’t be the first time.”

“They sleep here,” you reminded. “This is weird given your obsession with her.”

“I changed the sheets this morning.”

“Are you fucking serious? You’re her maid now?”

He smacked you again and you pressed your face down to muffle your scream. “No, I just always knew that I was going to fuck you here today.”

You waited until the pain subsided before you turned your face, Ransom was still working the yoga pants down, a task that seemed impossible with only one hand. “Where were you today?”

“I had a meeting.”

“With whom?”

“None of your business.”

“Yes, it is my business, you fucking dick! If you’re not going to let me go home—”

He spanked you again, harder now, it seemed like an angry action, not just a retaliating one. “You are home, this is your fucking home and if you suggest otherwise again, I fucking swear—”

“What?” you demanded. “You’re going to tattle to your mommy?”

“I should fucking strangle you,” he growled, and before you could say anything, his hand was at your pussy. He scoffed. “You are seriously this wet? You have so many fucking issues.”

“One issue,” you argued. “You.” But that was a lie and he was more than right. You could hear him moving his pants out of his way and you were nearly shaking with the need to feel him.

Abruptly, he shoved his cock inside you and you both moaned as you adjusted around him. It was loud, obscenely loud, there was no question about what you two were doing, and you honestly didn’t care anymore. Had he gotten bigger? No, that wasn’t possible. You were pretty sure it wasn’t.

You felt him moving to tear off his coat. “Don’t you dare throw that coat on this floor, Ransom.”

But he did and he did it so eagerly, like he wanted to irritate you. The floors were hardwood, Linda had her dogs in the home, and their fur got everywhere on Ransom’s clothes. He hated you, you hated it because he just threw things away—didn’t even donate them because he’s such a beast.

Next, you felt his scarf around your wrists and started struggling.

“What the fuck are you doing?!”

“Shut up,” he snarled.  “You’re lucky I’m not fucking gagging you.”

As his hips began rocking just slightly, he grabbed your jaw and turned your head back. His lips found yours immediately and while you two were sharing a sloppy, unskilled kiss, he began driving his hips into you as hard as he knew you needed him to.

His skin was slapping against yours noisily, the bed was creaking, moving on those extra hard thrusts. He spread your legs out as wide as he could and held them there, fingers digging painfully into your skin.

Things became very clear to Ransom at that moment. You were underneath him, completely at his mercy since you were bound now. You were pouting, pretending that you didn’t like this, and he wanted to fuck that disobedience out of you. He sat back up, holding your hips as he kept steadily moving in and out of you. “I’m going to fuck your ass.”

You blinked once, twice. “What?”

He never pulled out, but he did lean over and start yanking on the drawers of one of the bedside tables.

“What are you doing?” No, he wasn’t going to actually…fuck you there. He’d never done it, he’d never even asked about it even though you brought it up a few times. He’d located your plugs that one time, he knew you were into it. But nothing. Why now?

“I know he has to have something,” he insisted.

“I don’t want to think about your parents like that.”

“Oh, no, just think of my dad like that,” he joked.

You shook your head. “Eww.”

“Oh, eww?” he checked. “Since when? You realize you can never talk about fucking him again, right? Looks like you’re going to have to provoke me in other ways now.”

“I didn’t mean ‘eww’ like that,” you claimed, “I meant ‘eww’ that your mom isn’t fucking him, and I definitely should be, because he totally deserves it for being such a great husband and father, but sadly, I’m here with you instead.”

“You’re such a fucking brat and—got it.” Ransom rarely moved fast, preferring to act like the cocky ass that he was, making it clear that he had all the time in the world to do whatever the hell he wanted. Because you were never going to say no. But now, he was acting like he was in a race.

Your body tensed up as soon as you felt the sharp cold against your skin. Ransom took his fingers and spread the gel over your skin, you gasped when you felt one of his fingers teasing your hole.

He did this a few more times, just making sure that you were properly prepped before his first finger dipped inside you. He set his free hand to your back when you tensed. “Relax,” he ordered. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you assured. You’d done this in the past, liked it, but it had been a long time since.

He started pumping his finger in and out and you began to squirm. You were trying to stay still and quiet, trying to hide how good he was making you feel, but he knew. When you pressed your hips back, he added his second finger and you winced.

His fingers already had you feeling so full. That was what you loved most about being with Ransom, you felt almost incomplete whenever he wasn’t in you. Your body was made to take his, to mold to him completely.

“Here’s how this is gonna go, baby,” he began. “You’re going to start sleeping in our bedroom again. Because I am the only man on this planet who can touch you like this and you’re going to stop being such a brat and taking that for granted.”

You scoffed. You were taking him for granted? Of course, every day you didn’t wake up on your knees for him was probably ‘taking him for granted’.

“Yes?”

You nodded, cheek pressed to the mattress. You didn’t care about winning anymore, you needed to be fucked. You lifted your head to look back at him. “Yeah.”

He pushed his third finger as slowly as he could.

You kept your attention on him, watching as his fingers disappeared inside your ass. As he moved his fingers back and forth, he started to tilt his hips. You were hyperaware of everything, you knew where his cock and fingers were, the wall between your two entrances was thin enough that you could feel it all.

He always thought of you as an insatiable, greedy little thing but even he was surprised when you said you wanted more. You wanted his cock, not his fingers, and he figured you were ready for it because you were soaking his length and the sheets.

As he positioned himself over you again, he pulled his cock out of your pussy and you whimpered. He brought his cock up and spread the fingers inside your asshole to open you up for him. You had never experienced Ransom gentler than when he pressed just the tip of his cock into you. You observed in awe, mouth dropped, panting, desperate, soaking. You knew when you were going to feel him, but you were not prepared at all. His cock was bigger than any plug you had used and you were aching.

He groaned when his fingers were out and all that he could feel was you squeezing the hell out of him. “Fuck. Think you can get on your knees for me?”

You nodded but made no moves to do so. He did instead, lifting your hips, and then grabbing your upper arms to keep you there. You pressed your hips down, swallowing more of his cock, whining and moaning at the painful stretch of him.

“Fuck yourself,” he told you.

You were shuddering, body screaming at the uncomfortable angles you were moving. You pushed your hips up until you felt the head of his cock and settled back down until it felt like it was too much, over and over until he knew that your muscles weren’t capable of continuing.

“Almost there,” he promised, lips at your ear. “Almost taking all of my cock, baby.” He let his hands slide down a little, toward your elbows for leverage, and then he started thrusting. He was careful not to go too deep, listening to the sounds you made because words were not your strong point when he was inside you.

You leaned over a bit, unable to hold yourself up completely. You were hovering over the pillows, his hold on you tight enough that you weren’t worried about falling forward. You were practically choking on a scream when one of his hands moved around you to your clit, immediately feeling lightheaded.

You folded over more and Ransom released your arm to grab your hair. Since you weren’t strong enough to hold yourself up completely, he was yanking on the roots of your hair. Your thighs were quivering because you were using them as your only source of balance, and all of that distracted from the painful stretch of his cock driving into you more and more each time.

Your pleasure was slowly climbing. By the time you were coming, your pussy was dripping onto the sheets, you were sweating, shuddering, gasping for air that you couldn’t seem to get enough of.

And he was only halfway inside you. He shoved two fingers into your cunt and used his grip on your hair to shove your face down on the mattress. All his weight pressed down on you until you were flat on the bed, trapping his arm between you and the mattress.

He left you with some space to work, you rode out your high by fucking yourself on his cock and fingers. You were drowning in the sensations, overwhelmingly full of a man that you knew would eventually drive you crazy.

When your body fell limp, he released your hair and grabbed your hip, guiding you to another devastating orgasm. “You still doing okay, baby?”

For a moment, you could only respond with a moan. His thumb brushed over your clit and you gasped. “Daddy, please, please, please—!”

“You think you deserve it, baby?”

“Please make me come,” you begged.

He waited until you were finishing around his fingers and finally, shoved his cock in completely.

You buried your face in the bed, screaming, sobbing, crying his name. He brought his hand from your hip to your hair, petting and shushing you, and that was all you ever needed from Ransom.

He gave you only seconds before his hips were rolling, his fingers pumping in and out of you, thumb rubbing your clit. He paid no mind to you, he simply used your body, no matter how much you were shuddering and shaking from the aftershocks of your orgasm.

It was almost immediate that he pulled out after he finished and climbed off the bed to pull you with him. Your legs were shaking, but he held you tight to keep you up. He turned your back to him so he could watch his cum drip out of your ass.

When he turned you back to him, he gathered his cum from the inside of your thighs and ran his hand across your mouth. Fucked out, covered in him, you never looked more beautiful.

“This is your home,” he told you. “If you say it isn’t again, you won’t be able to walk for a very long time. Understood?”

You shrugged. “I’m not sure I’m convinced yet.”

Ransom tossed you onto the bed like you weighed nothing and went to the door just to lock it. Was it weird that you thought you might get something out of Linda pounding on the door while her son was absolutely pounding you?

May: the anniversary,

It was Linda and Richard’s anniversary and that meant that everyone living in the house had to celebrate because the Thrombeys were starting to face withdrawals from not receiving enough attention from others.

Joni and Walt had decided to cook dinner that night and it surprisingly did not end in disaster. There were some presents, the family was trying their hand at online shopping and as the days ticked by, more and more packages were showing up every day.

The night was ending with a game of charades, something you and Ransom elected not to take part in beyond watching. The first team was Meg, Walt, and Richard. The second team was Joni, Linda, and Donna, and Jacob was the referee. They needed one, every single game because they were oddly competitive and whenever things got too aggressive, they were given a card, from green to red. Red meant disqualification, you’d only seen it happen twice in all these years, but it was great when it did happen.

You couldn’t help but watch Richard and Linda. They’d been married for so long now, so you didn’t understand why Richard had had his affair when he did. She wasn’t overly young, she had no money, it just didn’t make much sense to you.

You were on Ransom’s lap in the chair in the corner of the room. He had been drinking all night, so you chose not to. You guys were a better team when you were coordinating like that. He was always weird about his parents, you figured that was why he’d been off all day.

“Do you think you could ever forgive someone if they cheated on you?” he asked.

You turned to him, eyebrow arched. “I would murder you.”

He scoffed. “Come on, be serious.”

“I am being serious, Ransom.”

“If I were going to cheat on you, I would have already done it. I meant in a general sense.”

“I don’t think you love someone if you cheat on them,” you reasoned. “So, would I forgive? Maybe, I guess, whatever that even means. But would I stay? Hell no.”

“Right?”

“You talking about your parents?”

“It’s so weird, isn’t it? I mean, not really. Men are men and don’t they all eventually cheat?”

“You are playing with fire having this conversation with me.”

He scoffed. “I just don’t get it, why would she stay?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “It seems like you all have your, like, comfortable environments. You don’t really want to leave them…at least she gave him that killer black eye.”

“Yeah,” he recalled with a small smile. “But…I don’t know, I don’t completely blame him, either.”

“Ransom,” you warned.

“No, I’m not saying it’s my mom’s fault, but…she doesn’t exactly love him either. Maybe he thought she used to.”

“Maybe she did.”

“Yeah, maybe…I don’t know, if you’re blackmailing someone essentially—”

“She’s not blackmailing him.”

“He has no money,” he insisted. “He’s terrified. She holds it over him constantly.”

“Ransom, right now, choose. Me or money?”

He turned to you. “No hesitation, I would choose you.”

You were almost surprised to hear that, you thought…you had always thought you were Ransom’s second love, honestly.

“What? Were you expecting something else?”

“I don’t know.” You didn’t want to make him think you thought so low of him. It was a pretty vile accusation.

“You do, that’s fine…because I do believe that if we didn’t have money, it would tear us apart.”

“No, it wouldn’t,” you argued.

He arched an eyebrow at you. “You love your diamonds and this house. And I like spoiling the hell out of you… I know those are simple things, but to have to work for things? We couldn’t make it.”

“Well, he obviously wasn’t that scared, or he wouldn’t have cheated. That was my point. You’re acting like money is the most important thing, if it was, he wouldn’t have risked it.”

“True. I don’t know if I would be able to deal with it.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck and laid your cheek against his. “Ransom, baby, you’re jealous of inanimate objects and you once fucked me every day for a week and didn’t let me come because you thought I was talking to my ex.”

“It depends how it started, that’s all I’m saying. People aren’t perfect, you know.”

“I am,” you declared.

He scoffed. “You let me fuck you while you were dating that ex.”

“You coerced me,” you argued. “I was innocently in my own room and you just showed up—”

“So, you’re saying I seduced you?”

You rolled your eyes. “Can we go to bed? I don’t think there are going to be any fistfights tonight.”

“I’m sorry, baby, I know you were looking forward to that.”

“A bit,” you admitted.

“I’ll tell you about the time my mom tackled Joni at my high school graduation.”

You gasped. “I love when you tell me stories.”

Ultimately, things had gone back to normal with you and Ransom. He was sleeping with you more nights than not, he was in his office much less, things seemed to be in a much better place.

June: the affair,

Until June rolled around.

Then all his office shit started up again, the late nights, the insane number of hours. You tried to be understanding, but then he was abandoning you at family dinners and there was the time some moron rear-ended you and you had to call Walt because Joni and Meg weren’t picking up their phones because it was five in the morning, and Ransom wasn’t either because Ransom wasn’t a reliable boyfriend.

He had been apologetic, and you were just relieved that it had been an overall easy situation, so you didn’t hold it against him. Not until you had to borrow his phone to call yours because you had once again misplaced it. You were, once upon a time, a very organized, together person. Then the Thrombeys moved into your home.

You saw dating apps. Dating apps! On his fucking phone. You had no idea how to react, so you just didn’t. You made the mistake of letting everything grow, everything just pile on top of one another until you were at your breaking point.

Linda liked to poke at you and normally, she couldn’t. Because normally, Ransom was around. Because Ransom knew how his mother was and he knew how you were, and he just didn’t want anyone to end up dead.

That changed one morning when you were making pancakes and she came in for her early morning coffee. She asked where Ransom was and that was really the start of it because she did know. She found it hilarious that Ransom had his own office and never let anyone else in. She hated that she wasn’t allowed in but was placated that you weren’t either.

But you told her where he was anyway because you were attempting to be civil. She pointed out how much time he was spending in his office and you pretended it was common, she then asserted that that was how Richard was behaving during his affair.

And honestly, why hadn’t you thought of it before? He had to be having an affair, you always heard him typing in his office. He was clearly on some website, probably some BDSM chatroom, and you were going to fucking kill him.

It all made sense now, last month when he’d asked you if you would forgive cheating. That was just Ransom being Ransom, he was trying to guess your reaction if you ever found out. Well, you hadn’t been exaggerating, you would kill him.

You stormed up to the office and started pounding on the door. The rest of the family was going to hear you, but they were smart enough to know they better just mind their own business in their rooms.

“Ransom!” you yelled after minutes of no answer. Again, you were met with silence and that was when your irritation became fury. “Ransom, I will kick this fucking door down! You know these doors are old and weak and I can do it!”

Long story short, the doors were stronger than you thought, and you could not do it. The low point of your life was probably having to crawl to Meg’s room and ask her to call their super-expensive home doctor because you had done something terrible to your foot.

Ransom showed up three hours later after you had been all wrapped up and the family was fawning over you. You were being forced to sit on the couch and they would not stop asking you if they could get things for you. You were already wearing three different crystals, Walt had made you hot chocolate, and Jacob was checking his horror movie collection for your favorites.

“What the hell happened?” Ransom demanded.

You glared at him. “Where were you?”

“I was out for a walk.”

“And you didn’t take your phone?” Richard pressed. “We were calling you non-stop.”

“I left it up in my office,” he informed, moving to your side. “Are you okay? What happened?”

“She tried to kick down your office door,” Linda answered.

Ransom gave you an incredulous look. “I’m sorry?”

“You should be,” you retorted. You never argued in front of the family because you and Ransom were a team. Yes, you fought, but you never wanted to give the family insight on the cracks in your relationship because you knew they would exploit them.

“Enough,” Meg cut in. “No arguing, Dr. Fields told her to take it easy.”

“You had to call the doctor?” he questioned. “What did you do?”

“Fracture,” Linda informed, “Not that big of a deal. Please, continue arguing.”

Everyone else glared at her while you and Ransom glared at one another. It was then that Jacob reappeared with one of the Saw movies. Typically.

August: the book,

You had taken to sleeping in Meg’s room with her because Ransom was a demon, but he wouldn’t try to enter her room. Ever. So, you comfortably stashed yourself away there every night and stayed there most mornings until noon. She didn’t mind. You’d gotten her a tv in there, so you watched Netflix a lot.

You had yet to confront Ransom with your accusations because you were scared. This family was obscene, being part of it was insane, every single person here was terrible in their own right. But you liked talking to Meg, you liked gardening with Joni, you liked reading the newspaper with Walt in the mornings and talking about the crime section. Even Jacob wasn’t the worst company, he liked to watch Dateline with you.

Ransom was convinced that you were just mad at him because you fractured your toes and couldn’t do yoga for a while. You were fine with him believing that because then you would have to have the conversation.

It was an odd situation to be in. You were sure he hadn’t physically done anything, but you weren’t sure if that should make you feel better or worse. He was connecting with someone and after your conversation, it was clear that he also believed you couldn’t cheat on someone you love. Given that he’d never said he loved you, you were rightfully concerned.

Did he ever love you?

Did you just spend almost 7 years with someone who was never going to feel that way about you? Did you throw away all those opportunities with someone else? Did you stupidly choose Ransom over your family?

Did you let this happen?

You had said you couldn’t forgive it, but now you understood why Linda did. If you love someone, you just don’t want to lose them. You hope that they don’t betray you, but what about when they do? It’s not easy to just leave.

You still loved Ransom, you always would. You didn’t want to lose any of the relationships you formed with the family, but it was different with Ransom. You didn’t want to, obviously, but you also couldn’t. You couldn’t imagine a life without him, you couldn’t imagine moving on, you couldn’t imagine being with someone else.

What did that mean?

You weren’t sure about the long-term answer, but short-term, it meant that you were going to pretend. He wasn’t cheating, he didn’t have dating apps on his phone, he didn’t even have an office as far as you were concerned.

Nothing. Everything was perfect.

Until Jacob’s birthday. You weren’t aware of it before, but unsurprisingly, he was a fucking Leo. You made a mental note to investigate the astrology of certain serial killers Jacob reminded you of, but you would do that with Meg later.

You were helping Walt and Joni cook this time. Apparently, they were the only Thrombeys that knew how to cook and were pleased to have another addition to the small team. It wasn’t a particularly difficult meal, lasagna with garlic bread, but it was Jacob’s favorite.

The plans had been made the week prior, Ransom was going to do one thing for you. Just one, you asked for so little. He would pick up the cake at noon and hide it in the second kitchen. Hide because Jacob wasn’t aware this was happening. He didn’t like to be the center of attention and if he knew this was happening before it was actually happening, he would do anything he could to stop it.

But come 2 PM, three hours after the cake was set to be picked up, you received a call from the bakery. You had let them know that your boyfriend was going to pick it up and you left his name with them and everything, all Ransom needed to do was show up.

The woman on the phone informed you that that didn’t happen, and they were about to close because of pandemic hours. You promised you would be in before she needed to shut the doors and since you were comfortable with your window of time, this was done. Over. First, you were going to yell at Ransom.

You quietly made your way to his office and listened with your ear pressed to the door. You didn’t make a sound until you heard him typing, then you started banging on the door with both hands.

It was seconds later that he answered the door, a confused look on his face over your apparent urgency. He looked like he’d pulled an all-nighter and smelled like a lot of alcohol. “What?”

“What the fuck, Ransom?”

“What? What do you need?”

You tried to open the door, but he held it in place.

“What the hell are you doing?”

You were getting into that office because you were going to find out what he was doing, he was not going to continue to lie to you. You kicked his shin and when his leg buckled, you shoved your way in.

“Hey!” He hurriedly shut the door behind you. He did not want anyone else getting in.

It looked like a normal office. There was a full bookshelf of titles that you couldn’t read because your anger was blurring your vision, there was a desk, a laptop, chairs, a bar cart, not a thing out of the ordinary. What the fuck was he doing in here all day?

There was only one logical answer. You finally turned to him, hands on your hips. “Who is she, Ransom?”

“What?”

“I know you’ve been cheating on me and I’m not going to play this game with you! I just want to know who the fuck she is!”

“Are you out of your mind?!”

“Yes, I’m out of my fucking mind! I’ve been living with your psychotic family since March, dealing with their shit on top of yours, and you are now cheating on me! Please explain to me how anyone else wouldn’t also be out of their mind!”

“I’m not cheating on you!”

“Really?! Then what the fuck are you always doing up here?”

He paused at that.

The camel’s back broke. This was officially over. You turned around and rushed to his computer. He only took a second before he realized what you were doing and followed you there.

“I swear to everything above, if you are in some pathetic chatroom—”

He leaned over you just as you reached for the laptop and slammed it shut. “I’m not cheating on you!”

“Then let me see your fucking laptop!” You didn’t care that he had his hands planted on it, you still grabbed the opposite ends and tried to pull it out from under him. It wasn’t a logical plan since he was much stronger than you, but you weren’t necessarily operating on logic.

“You are crazy,” he asserted.

You moved your hands to the top edge of the laptop and threw your entire body back into Ransom. More than anything, it probably shocked him into moving back. Had you known that it was going to work, you probably would have been better about keeping your footing. Since that wasn’t the case, you both ended up on the floor and for a split second, the laptop was only in your hands.

You dove forward, just inches from the door.

Ransom rushed after you, grabbing your leg to pull you back down.

You knew he was going to get you under him, you wrapped your arms tight around the laptop and started screaming. Joni or Richard might feel inclined to call the police if they thought the two of you were honestly fighting.

Ransom slammed his hand down on your mouth as he crawled over you, knees pressed to your hips to keep you pinned there. “What the hell is wrong with you!?”

You didn’t say a word and you didn’t let your hold on the laptop waver for even a second.

“If I move my hand, you better not scream again,” he warned.

Obviously, you were going to. As soon you could, you yelled, “Call the police, he’s going to kill—!”

Ransom covered your mouth again, eyes wide at you. “You have lost it!”

It was then that you realized you needed to do something. He had the upper hand, and he was going to get the laptop away from you if you did nothing. You started swiping at him with both elbows and knees, never catching anything, but making him nervous enough to back off a little.

Fuck it, he was done trying to be reasonable with you. He moved his hand again, but only to start fighting with you over the laptop again.

“Let it go!” you shrieked.

“You let it go!” he countered. “It’s mine!”

“Not anymore, cheater!”

“I’m not fucking cheating on you!”

“If you have some online BDSM girlfriend, I’m going to fucking kill you!”

“What? What the hell goes through your mind!?”

“You’re constantly in here and you won’t let me in, and you never tell me what you’re doing, you never tell anyone else either—”

“Because I hate my family,” he reminded.

“And clearly, you hate me!”

“I don’t hate you, you’re being childish.”

“Tell me her name, Ransom, or so help me—”

“I’m not cheating!”

“I saw the dating apps on your god damn phone!”

“I am not cheating!”

“Then what are you doing?!”

“I’m writing a book!” he hissed.

You froze. He was what?

He kept his voice quiet, “That’s where I was a couple months ago, the meeting that I told you was none of your business. I only had a few chapters, but I got a deal out of it—”

“Get off me.”

He blinked in surprise and then hurried to do so, helping you up, no longer interested in stealing away the laptop.

You held onto it because you weren’t yet sure if you were going to use it to cause severe bodily harm to him. He was writing a book and didn’t tell you? You didn’t know he was interested in writing at all. You didn’t know he could sit down and write more than one entire sentence. He was always moving around, throwing himself into mindless activities.

A book?

You were hurt. Getting a book deal was major and he didn’t tell you he was trying for it, but then he didn’t even tell you that he’d gotten it. He had this huge thing in his life that he kept separate from you and that hurt your feelings.

“That’s was the apps were,” he explained. “I was doing research. Honestly, I’ll let you see the profiles, they’re not even pictures of me. I haven’t spoken to anyone either, it’s just very basic—”

You held the laptop out to him.

He slowly took it back from you, preparing for any other extreme reaction you might have. What he wasn’t expecting was complete silence, he figured you must have been confused by this. It was rather sudden, even for him. “You going to say something?”

You debated for a long while. You wanted to ask why he was pushing you away. You wanted to ask if it was because he didn’t think you were supportive, if he just didn’t want you to know, then you wanted to know why that was. What had you ever done that made him think he couldn’t tell you about this?

“I have to go get Jacob’s cake.”

“Shit!” He ran his hand down his face. “I completely forgot—”

“Don’t worry about it.” Then you were rushing out, ignoring the curious looks from the family on the way.

October: Ransom’s birthday,

It had been seven weeks since you found out about the book and seven weeks since you last had an actual conversation with Ransom. That was your doing purely, and he made the attempts, but you ignored them.

Linda was thrilled. This was different than when you and Ransom were fighting, because fighting indicated that you had the desire to win, he had the desire to win, but then that meant a resolution would follow. If you were ignoring him, what did you want? She hoped it was the end of the road for the two of you.

You weren’t sure. About anything. But you just had to go day by day and listen to yourself. Up to now, you weren’t sure what you wanted to do. As time went on and you were left to wallow in your hurt feelings, you were wondering if maybe this was the end.

Seven years and he didn’t tell you he was writing a book? That was insane, that was inexcusable. You didn’t get to have any part of your life not completely exposed to Ransom and you were okay with that. Obviously, he didn’t feel the same.

Seven years, a nearly dead modeling career, no skills, no aim in life. You had no idea how you would start all over. You had no idea how you would live your life without being Ransom’s girlfriend. It was practically a title, like the queen, and you loved it. You loved him.

But he didn’t tell you about the book! How could you get over that? Well, you could talk to him, but you were not going to do that. You just weren’t ready because you would want to know why and all the answers that were playing out in your mind were not going to make you feel better.

It didn’t matter, or more correctly, it couldn’t matter. Ransom’s birthday was coming up and Linda was trying to fight you on everything.

It was October, the worst of the pandemic was over, wasn’t it? No, you didn’t think so and anyone with two solid IQ points wouldn’t either. She wanted some family over, some of his friends—Megan, you had heard her mention to Richard. You didn’t want a single person in your house, no one outside of the family.

She suggested going to a restaurant then, but you knew Ransom hated when they threw him parties like that.

She wanted him to have a red velvet cake and you knew that Ransom hated red velvet. He preferred lemon, but he told you that you were never allowed to get him a lemon cake because he would eat it all. He was fine with chocolate, didn’t hate it, didn’t love it.

If you weren’t going out, then she wanted catering from his favorite restaurant, and a minimum of 30 people over, the house was big enough for it. It wasn’t even his favorite restaurant, the one she wouldn’t stop talking about, you knew for a fact Ransom did not like 30 people, and the house was not big enough for it.

On top of all of that, she kept asking you what you were going to get him. She just didn’t want to get the same thing. Why would that happen? Why would she get him the same thing as you? You had no idea, but she insisted on knowing. Problem was, you didn’t have an answer to give her. You had no idea what you were going to get Ransom.

Three days before his birthday, Ransom found you on the floor of the kitchen with an icepack pressed to your forehead. It was three in the morning, you had most of the lights off, only your phone and laptop providing light. Even in the dim kitchen, he could tell that you had been crying, eyes puffy and red, tear tracks down your cheeks.

He had been in his office, more writing. He’d only come down for a glass of water, sure that no one else would be awake at such an odd hour. This was the first time in a long time that he had seen you alone, and this naked. Usually, you were surrounded by the family, Joni being the greatest culprit. And since you still weren’t sleeping in the bedroom, he hadn’t seen you in your tiny shorts and bralettes.

He sat down at your side, setting his hand on your thigh. “Hey, is everything okay?”

You tossed the icepack onto the floor. “I never got stress headaches before your family moved in.”

“Yeah, I noticed that.”

It was silent for several moments after that, you were thinking about how you wanted to approach this topic. It was clear now, in your mind, why he hadn’t told you about the book. “I never listen to you.”

He turned to you, eyebrows pulled together. “What?”

You were already crying again, tears rolling down your face. You had felt terrible these past few weeks and you were finally beginning to understand why. “I don’t listen, I’m a terrible listener.”

“No,” he protested. “You’re not a terrible listener—”

“I have no idea what to get you for your birthday. I never know, I never get you a good present.”

“Yes, you do,” he argued. “And you don’t need to get me anything—”

“Of course, I do!” you blurted out. Was he insane? This was his birthday, you couldn’t not get him something for his birthday. “This is why you didn’t tell me about the book, right?”

His eyebrows shot up. “What?”

“Because I don’t listen,” you explained. “Why would you tell me about it if I wasn’t even going to listen, right?”

“Baby,” he sighed, “That’s not why I didn’t tell you. I wasn’t trying to keep it from you, honestly—”

“You didn’t tell me you were writing, you didn’t tell me you were trying to get published, and then you didn’t tell me about the book deal.”

“I know…I was going to.”

“But?” you prompted. “How could you not tell me about any of it?”

“I was worried.”

“Why?”

“Because of fucking Harlan. He’s the world’s best mystery author, for whatever fucking reason. I was worried that you wouldn’t think I should do this. I was worried about how it would look. I don’t want to follow in my grandfather’s footsteps like the rest of my pathetic family.”

“So, were you just never going to say anything about it?”

“Well…maybe. There’s something else… I wasn’t sure I was going to use my name, so it was completely possible that I could keep you from ever finding out about them. And if you ever got suspicious, maybe publish a few of the others under my real name.”

“Others? What are you talking about?”

“So…my book deal is for, at the very least, three books. In a series. If they do well, I can do others, with the possibility of keeping this series going…whenever I feel inspired to do so.”

“Okay…what’s the series about?”

“A woman.”

You narrowed your eyes.

“A very mean woman,” he clarified. “She’s a black widow, you know, marries rich men, murders them, takes the money…and I’ve sort of been using your name.”

Your eyebrows slowly rose. “You’ve been writing about me?”

“No,” he immediately protested, then sighed. “Okay, a little, but she’s beautiful. I mention that a lot, I promise.”

Yes, you were relieved. But was he completely off the hook? You slapped his shoulder. “Are you serious?”

“Hey,” he held his hand to the skin that you had just smacked. “Ow, maybe don’t hit me just days away from my birthday if you didn’t get me anything.”

“God, Ransom, I was really hurt.”

“I’m sorry about that. Really, I know I rarely ever apologize and sometimes, I don’t mean it, but I mean it now.”

“Well, can I read some of it?”

He smirked. “I don’t know, baby girl, you haven’t been behaving lately. You tried to break into my office, hurt yourself, and then did break into my office to steal my laptop. You thought I was cheating on you.”

“I saw dating apps, Ransom.”

“After we talked about my parents—”

“You lock yourself in your office for, like, 20 hours at a time—”

“And some BDSM chatroom? Because you’re normal in bed?”

You rolled your eyes. “Look, I’m sorry for accusing you of cheating, but you should have told me about the book. Which you apologized for, so it just cancels out. Let’s do what we usually do and just pretend it never happened.”

“You told Joni to call the cops,” he reminded.

You shrugged. “I miss Wagner, he probably would have been over here immediately.”

He snorted. “Okay, we both made mistakes, but you’re right.”

With his agreement to move on, you climbed onto his lap and wrapped your arms around his neck. “Please?”

“I’m not completely convinced yet,” he teased.

Rolling your eyes, you kissed him. “Now?”

“You’re getting closer.”

You scoffed and kissed him again, reaching into his sweatpants to pull out his cock. It didn’t take long to get him hard and as soon as you did, you used your other hand to pull your shorts aside. You broke away from the kiss to watch his face as you slowly slid down his length.

His hands gripped your hips and he nodded. “Yeah, you can have whatever you want.”

You smiled. “Perfect, let’s get it now.”

He snorted. “Wow, now you’re a fucking comedian?”

“Well, you’re an author,” you retorted.

He nodded once. “You have a point. I vaguely remember what I wrote, want me to tell you?”

You nodded. You wanted to hear it in his voice, you were going to demand that he read it to you anyway.

“Her first husband was a writer,” he informed.

You lifted your eyebrows. Was that supposed to be clever?

“He often wrote poetry about how devastatingly beautiful he found her.”

You rolled your eyes a little, turning down to stare at his chest. He was wearing a shirt, but you could still see the muscles through the white material. “How did she kill him?”

“Scared him to death, she is very scary.”

You bit your cheek to prevent a smile.

“His fault, though. He was never healthy, did a few drugs he shouldn’t have. Drank too much, never ate right. He had a weak heart anyway.”

You hummed.

He wrapped his arm around your back and rolled you over onto the floor underneath him. He pulled your thighs apart before placing both hands on the floor for balance. Slowly, he pulled out and drove back in hard.

You gasped his name, arms winding tightly around his torso.

“He loves her skin,” he asserted.

You nodded encouragingly, you wanted him to tell you everything. “Mhm.”

“Loves how soft she is, especially her thighs, and he loves how she bruises.” He was steadily rocking his hips, speaking just loud enough that you could hear him over the wet noises of his cock sliding in and out of your body, but quiet enough that you were sure no one else would hear.

You reminded yourself you were downstairs, on the kitchen floor, it was important to remain quiet. Ransom’s family had caught you in a lot of low moments over the years, but this would take the cake. You turned your head, burying your face in the bend of his neck.

“He loves her neck, how perfectly it fits in his hands. He loves her lips, how they look wrapped around him, or when she’s smiling—”

“You wrote that?” you breathed.

“This isn’t some school-book-report shit like what Harlan was publishing.”

“Those weren’t children’s books,” you felt inclined to point out.

“Well, mine have sex.”

You snorted. “You’re going to write about other men fucking me?”

“A woman here and there,” he explained. “That’s why they have to die such horrible deaths.”

You laughed briefly, pressing your mouth to his shoulder when you worried you would moan.

“He loves her legs, how tightly they wrap around him.” As he spoke, he lifted your legs one at a time, pressing them to the sides of his body as a cue to hook your ankles together. “He loves her arms, how easily he can pin them above her head.” Again, he did just that and you were forced to lay flat on the floor, clamping your mouth shut to stifle the noises spilling out.

After managing to get both wrists in one hand, he placed his opposite forearm off to your side and set all his weight there. You could feel it in the way he got heavier against your hips, trapping you between him and the floor, controlling every aspect of how he was going to make you come.

He stared down at your face for a moment, watching you struggle to keep your composure as he was fucking into you harder now. He leaned down and your eyes fell shut, he kissed over both eyelids and said, “He loves her eyes, even when she’s looking up at him, demanding something, a new diamond necklace, a car, but won’t actually say the words because she’s so fucking spoiled.”

You smirked and he felt it, and his hips snapped up harshly to get it to stop. It only worked for a moment. You were smug, Ransom was pouring his heart out to you and confessed that he liked that you were spoiled? You would never let him live this down.

“He loves her cheeks,” he started kissing across your face and you couldn’t help but smile, “Especially when she’s doing that.” He stopped to pay special attention to your nose, “And he loves her nose, even though she hates it. And he loves when she pouts,” he lowered his mouth to give you several chaste pecks, until you were pouting because he wouldn’t just kiss you.

With a scoff, he finally let you kiss him back. It didn’t last long before he was on the move again, pressing his lips to your chin and proclaiming the fictional character’s love of that, then your jaw, your clavicle, and once he tore your bralette out of the way, your breasts.

As he continued to move down, he was sliding his cock out by the inch and you were trying to stop him from getting too far, you were desperately pulling at him with your legs, but Ransom was much stronger than you.

“He loves her stomach,” he muttered into your skin as he descended and finally, his cock slipped out. Because of that, he had to let your wrists go but you knew better than to try to move them.

“Ransom, please—”

“And he loves her hips.” As he pulled down your shorts, he kissed the skin he exposed, almost frantically alternating between left and right. Once the shorts were down, he spread your thighs and looked up at you. “And he fucking loves her pussy.”

You let out a strangled, high-pitched sound as he dove down and wrapped his lips around your clit. He stared at you the entire time as he sucked for a few seconds, then flicked his tongue back and forth, only to repeat the pattern until you were crying and squirming, staying in the position he had placed you in.

When he knew you were close, he pulled back. He only set small kisses to your aching center, hands moving up and down your hips, your stomach, your thighs. “He loves how sweet it tastes, he loves how fucking tight it is, how it feels like his cock was made to be inside it—”

“Ransom, please,” you blurted out. Your arms were stinging with the desire to reach down for him, but you knew that would change the path of this entire night. You just needed to be fucked. Simply. Intimately. None of the elaborate shit you both usually tried.

In seconds, he had made his way over you and was inside you again. You wrapped yourself around him, arms and legs, and held onto him tight enough that you were sure he wouldn’t be able to get away again.

“He loves every fucking inch of her,” he stated. “Because she’s his, she belongs to him and she’s never going to belong to anyone else.”

You scoffed. “But she kills him?”

“Well, she’s a complex woman.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m not complex.”

He arched an eyebrow.

“I just want you and this house, and I want all of this shit to be over so we can get rid of your family.”

He kissed you shortly. “That makes two of us, baby.”

There was a difference between loving something about someone and truly being in love with someone. You’d always loved things about Ransom, but it took you about a solid year to confidently admit that you were in love with him. He could say that he loved everything about you, but that was not him finally saying it.

“Does she love him?” you wondered.

He shrugged a shoulder. “He thinks so.”

“Does he love her?” This wasn’t asking for too much. Ransom could hide behind this fictional creation of his and say yes, and you would never ask again. You just wanted to hear it once, that wasn’t unfair.

He considered his answer for a long time, breaking eye contact to look down at where his fingers were hovering over your shoulder. He began to trace shapes there, still contemplating. “Sometimes…she thinks so.”

“But does he?” you pressed.

Again, more silence. He was trying to gauge what he could get away with. He always knew this was going to wear on you eventually, but he never thought it was going to be during one of the times he was inside you. How could you not feel how he felt about you? “I think—”

“Are you fucking serious!?”

You immediately knew whose voice that was—Linda. Shutting your eyes, you let your head rest back on the floor. The headache you had been crying over earlier was returning.

“RICHARD!” She turned out of the kitchen and began storming back to her room. “Richard, wake up! You need to talk to your son! Is there no place in this house anymore that is sacred?!”

Ransom sighed deeply and you looked up at him. “Well, do you want to make you come first before we go upstairs?”

You shrugged. “Okay. Hurry up, we don’t have to be quiet anymore.”

November: thanksgiving,

Ransom was on his best behavior, you theorized that was because he didn’t want you to again ask him for more of that insane basic human emotion. Whatever, you could not dwell. There were people dying in this world, and you wanted to waste time crying over your boyfriend who gave you everything you wanted, but just wouldn’t say a certain word to you?

Well, the answer was yes, but it was Thanksgiving and the Thrombeys had about a million and one weird-ass family traditions. That meant you were short on time to be pouting.

It was a freezing, perfect day. It had snowed all night and the house looked like something straight out of a Hallmark movie. Yes, this was going to be a complicated day with a lot of personalities that were butting heads because everyone had been together for way too long, but you were feeling festive. You wanted to make the best of the day and you planned to force the rest of the family to follow your lead.

The start of the traditions was donating money. You were the one who brought it up as soon as Richard tried to skip down the list. It always started with donating. Harlan would write checks for half a million dollars and let every member choose where they wanted to donate, the past three years you were included in that. Harlan always liked you, probably more than he liked some of his actual family.

“I’m just not sure,” Donna was saying, “We haven’t made much money this year.”

“Are you kidding?” Meg demanded. “Your husband’s publishing company is still seeing sale increases.”

“Because of the death of the author,” Linda pointed out. “Meaning, we should be a lot more frugal. The money will not be coming in the same way that it was.”

“This is not up for debate,” you snapped. “Everyone pick a god damn charity. Harlan insisted on this every single year, and we are going to continue it. Unless you all would like to provoke his ghost to come murder us. He died in this house after all!”

“It’s money,” Ransom pointed out. “We have more than enough, some people don’t have any.”

Linda rolled her eyes. “My son is just trying to get you to have sex with him.”

You glared.

“Mother,” Ransom sighed. “This isn’t a discussion. Just pick your damn charity.”

“Donna, it’s fine,” Walt promised. “Meg’s right, we’ve had a great year. And Y/N is right, Dad always wanted us to do this. I will start with my usual charity, Homes for Our Troops.”

“Fantastic.” You took the check as soon as he handed it over. “Donna?”

“American Cancer Society, of course.” She held it out for you and then looked to Jacob. “I think this year—”

“I have a charity picked,” Jacob informed.

Everyone fell silent. Likely, everyone’s immediate suspicion was Trump’s request for donations since he was still insisting the election was fraudulent. However, no one said anything because no one wanted to be the first victim of Jacob’s impending murder spree.

“Can’t I pick my own?” he pressed.

“Yes,” you answered. “You can, because everyone can pick their own charity.”

“Yeah,” Walt echoed. “Of course.”

He wrote the name down and slid the check across the table to you.

Ransom’s hand tightened on your thigh, a reminder not to let anyone antagonize you this holiday.

“Canines for Disabled Kids,” you read. “Jacob, that’s really great…I didn’t even know that was a charity.”

He shrugged. “Yeah, well, I like the idea that they can have dogs as friends and don’t have to make human friends. Humans are so stupid.” Then he returned all his attention to his phone.

“And we’re back,” Richard muttered.

Donna’s head snapped in his direction.

“Okay,” you interjected. “Joni?”

She chose a foundation interested in ending childhood obesity, received a snide comment from Meg about how even her acts of kindness were vain, and you intervened before it became bigger than that. Meg chose an organization that works to stop childhood prostitution, Linda went for homeless youth, and Richard selected Make-A-Wish Foundation. Walt felt the need to sarcastically commend him for his originality.

“Enough,” you said before Richard could respond. “My dearest Ransom, what have you chosen?”

He smiled at you. “Animal Legal Defense Fund. Their tagline is: all our clients are innocent.”

You nodded. “They are. All animals are innocent.”

Linda rolled her eyes. “Can we move on?”

“Okay, mine is—”

“I can’t believe you don’t have a problem that she’s basically brainwashing our son,” Linda interrupted, turning to Richard.

“Linda, please,” Richard sighed.

“My charity,” you spoke loudly, gaining their attention once more, “Is Planned Parenthood.”

“Are you out of your mind?” she demanded. “You want to donate your money to abortions?”

You glared. “That’s not all Planned Parenthood does, but…yes, I do. Babies suck, if a woman doesn’t want to have it, she doesn’t have to.”

Joni nodded. “I agree, completely. I’ve been learning in my group about how we are only placed on this earth to offer up our vibrations to one another. Our obligations do not exceed that. We don’t have to be anything! Not a mother, not a wife—”

“Oh, shut up!” Linda barked.

“Mother, calm down,” Ransom dismissed. “I don’t believe for a second any of you have not either had an abortion or been an accessory to one in the past.”

“I would never!” she gasped, pointing a finger at him. “And you better not ever let her!”

“Yeah, don’t worry about that happening. I’ve been thinking about eliminating that possibility, surgically—”

Linda’s mouth dropped.

This was, of course, untrue. Ransom would, first, never sacrifice any part of himself for that reason. Second, the matter had not been discussed yet. You guys weren’t even thinking about marriage, so of course, children weren’t being brought up. But that morning, Ransom woke up in the mood for chaos, and maybe you sort of did, too.

“I wanted a second child,” she told Richard, “You said to stop after Ransom because he was “perfect”.”

“I did say that,” he muttered to himself, a look of pure regret on his face.

You smiled at Ransom. “You are perfect.”

He kissed you, gaining disapproving noises from most of the table.

“I will never be a grandmother!” Linda yelled, burying her hands in her hair and resting her shoulders on the table.

You glanced at Ransom.

He nodded toward the kitchen. “Now that that’s done, let’s start cooking.”

Joni and Meg were currently searching the entire house for the Christmas decorations. They always ended up getting put in the strangest places and since you and Ransom had moved in and not known where they were, you moved basically everything. It was possible that you were going to have to make do with the decorations you and Ransom had been using for the past five years at his house.

You had, however, purchased a lot of lights because the Thrombeys loved their blue lights. Tacky, you wanted the yellow lights and made sure to buy enough that even a single blue light needed to be on that house. Ransom was excitedly awaiting his mother’s reaction to that.

Every year, Richard and Walt would put lights on the house while the dinner was cooking. Ransom should have helped but no one actually thought Ransom would lift a finger, so no one wasted their breath. He was only helping you cook because, as mentioned, he was pretending to be a good boyfriend.

But he was a monster, a true monster that was currently squashing even more of your dreams. “The answer isn’t just no, it’s fuck no.”

You glared. “I wasn’t asking for permission.”

“You asked if it was a good idea.”

“I think it is.”

“Then why did you ask me at all?”

“Because I thought you would be nice for a second, just a second, Ransom. I’m not asking for a lot.”

“We are not getting Jacob a dog.”

“Why not?”

“Because I hate dogs.”

“Well, I hate you,” you hissed.

He rolled his eyes. “Enough of the dramatics. This day is tiring enough already—”

“We’ll get him a small one, it doesn’t need to be those huge horses your mother calls dogs. A chihuahua, maybe. A Pomeranian, a dachshund—”

“Absolutely not, we already have Joni here, I don’t want some yappy animal—”

“Ransom!” you whined. “If we get him a dog, he might not become a serial killer.”

“He already is a serial killer, love, these are just the early years when he’s finding himself. The answer is still no.”

“Ugh, fine, can you just make the pie crusts, please?”

“How many?”

“Three.”

“Three? For what?”

“Pumpkin, apple, pecan, Ransom. The same things your family has served every single year I’ve been here, and presumably, all the ones before that.”

“Ugh.” He stood at the counter reading the recipe, muttering his disapproval, up until he saw the ingredients on the counter. “What is all of this?”

“Um, you know that recipe in your hand? The final product doesn’t just appear.”

“No, what is all of this…gluten-free flour, oat flour? Where’s the normal flour?”

“That is normal flour, Ransom.”

“No,” he argued. “No, it’s not.”

“It’s normal to some people,” you countered. “And this year, it’s normal to us. Joni went out and bought the groceries. If you wanted something, you could have done it yourself.”

“You wouldn’t let me leave the house! You kept saying I was going to get sick and die.”

“You could have ordered them!”

“You can’t be serious. On top of this dreadful year, you’re trying to make us eat healthy food on Thanksgiving?”

“Ransom, make the pie crusts!”

It was silent for several minutes, probably because you were using the mixer to make the pumpkin filling. As soon as it was off, Ransom was acting like you’d asked him to perform surgery.

“What does toss mean?”

“What?”

“It says to toss the ingredients.”

“Um, like, stir, I guess.”

“You guess or you know?”

“Just fucking stir, Ransom. I make pies all the time.”

He huffed. “No, oh, no. No, this is telling me to touch things with my hands, that’s disgusting and I’m not doing that.”

You turned back, eyes wide. “Ransom!”

“I’m not touching butter with my hands!”

“What is wrong with you!? It’s cooking, you have to use your hands to cook!”

“I don’t like touching butter!”

“How would you know? You’ve never cooked a day in your life!”

“I’m not touching it,” he claimed.

You took a slow breath in and released it while counting to ten. “Then switch with me and make the apple pie filling.”

“Great.” He walked to your counter as you walked to his. “What is this? What’s in this bowl?”

“The pumpkin pie filling. Cover it and put it in the refrigerator. That’s where the apples are.”

His next question came after he pulled out the bag of apples. “These?”

You turned back, blinking. “Yes, Ransom, those are apples.”

“I have to cut them?”

“And peel them.”

“That’s going to take forever.”

“Ransom, I’m about to smack you.”

“This is a lot!” he pointed out. “Why are we the only people cooking?”

“We’re not, not anymore,” you decided. “Get out, you can go help your father and Walt with the Christmas lights.”

“And you’re going to cook alone?”

“I basically already am.” You turned around to walk to the sink to wash your hands. Unlike Ransom, you weren’t making one pie crust at a time, and you would only need to do this once. When you turned around, you knew Ransom was behind you, but you had no idea what he was doing.

You only saw how close he was when you felt something wet and cold against the side of your face. Whatever it was, he dragged it all the way to the opposite cheek. You smelled and tasted the frosting that you had made for the sugar cookies.

He peeled the frosted star-shaped cookie off your skin and ate one of the corners. “Your blood-sugar seemed low, I thought I’d help.”

You tore the cookie out of his hand and shoved it directly in his face.

He scattered back, eyes wide in shock—as if he expected anything less? “What is wrong with you?!”

You grabbed the retractable faucet from the sink and turned the water on.

“Do not!”

It was a warning you ignored. Within seconds, he was slipping along the kitchen floor, rushing back to you to get the faucet out of your hands. As soon as he had it, he turned it on you, and you screamed like a cat about to be thrown in a bathtub.

“Stop it!” you ordered. “You are ruining Thanksgiving!”

“You’re ruining it!”

You elbowed him hard enough that he dropped the faucet, then kicked your heels off to run to the counter with the cookies and frosting.

“Don’t you dare!” He rushed after you and wrestled the cookie out of your hand, ultimately crushing it into crumbs that scattered all over the counter and the floor.

You shoved your opposite hand into one of the bowls of frosting, whipping around to place your hand on his face.

“What the fuck?!” But he leaned down, clearly uninterested in an answer, and pressed his face into your hair.

“My hair?!” you shrieked. “I’m going to kill you!”

There were several sets of steps that you both heard, but neither of you wanted to let the other get the upper hand. When the family finally found you, you had slipped, ended up on your ass, and Ransom was holding you down, claiming that you caused too many problems when you were on your feet.

“What the hell is going on?!” Joni questioned.

“Ransom, get off of her!” Meg pushed her way between the two of you, pulling you onto your feet. “Oh, my god, what is going on? Are you okay?”

Well, you were both soaking wet, layered in frosting, furiously trying to get another cookie to throw at the other. Were you okay? Only physically. Mentally, you weren’t sure either one of you was ever on solid ground there.

“Enough!” Linda yelled. “What is this insanity!? We need to be eating in less than an hour and as per usual, you two can’t go five minutes without fighting! That’s it, everyone get out of this kitchen! This is why I cook, this is why I do everything! I’m the only one that can!”

She turned away to open the door to usher everyone out and you took your chance to get some type of retaliation that you had been longing for since before the damn stay-at-home order.

You were able to reach for a cookie before either Meg or Ransom could stop you, and no one had ever dreamed your target would be Linda, so for a detrimental moment, their reactions were nonexistent. Essentially, everyone could only stare in pure horror as they realized the cookie was darting straight for the back of Linda’s head. Which, in your defense, wasn’t your exact intention. You thought her back, not her head…but well, there was a reason you weren’t a professional athlete.

Gasps filled the room as soon as the cookie contacted Linda’s head, then again when it fell to the floor. Linda slowly turned, eyes wide, jaw set, shoulders tense—that must be where Ransom got it.

“This is my house,” you reminded. “You do not get to order me out of my kitchen!”

She looked at Ransom, silently urging him to make his alliance known right then. Before he had to say anything, yelling sounded from outside the house. Walt and Richard had yet to finish the one job they had, everyone figured that was the cause of the disturbance.

Quickly, you all made your way out to the front of the house. Richard had his leg wrapped up in a mess of lights and was hanging from the edge of the house. The same vines of lights were also wound around Walt, who was hanging onto the house for dear life.

“Oh, my god!” Donna yelled. “Oh, my god!”

“Are you serious?” Linda demanded. “There is a pandemic! You guys seriously want to end up in the god damn hospital during a pandemic?”

Joni sighed in utter frustration. “Walt, just hang on. We’ll get Richard down—”

“Oh, my god!” Donna continued, despite the lack of panic coming from literally every other single person present. Even Walt seemed less alarmed than her. She started running to Richard and on any other day, it would have been an effortless plan of action. On this day, that Massachusetts had just seen a hell of a lot of snow, when the pavement was dangerously icy, she fell.

Meg screamed. “Oh, my god, I’m calling Dr. Fields!”

“He’s a doctor!” Joni pointed out. “A physical doctor—he won’t know how to deal with this sheer stupidity unless someone broke a bone!”

Donna, now over her initial shock, was attempting to get up.

“Donna, I think you’re hurt,” Meg said. “Just stay—”

Jacob was cautiously moving closer to her, directing her to stay put when Walt had finally lost his battle with the house. His hands slipped off and he went sliding down the edge of the roof. Richard hit the floor first, eliciting more screams from Meg and Donna, and then Walt followed onto several snow-covered bushes, and everyone lost their minds.

“I’m calling Dr. Fields! I am fucking calling Dr. Fields right now!” Meg repeated, shaking so much she could hardly get the phone out of her pocket, let alone find which one she had placed it in.

Joni began making her way through the snow to check if Richard was okay.”

“Oh, my god!” Donna was still repeating.

“Mom, just stay down,” Jacob said.

“Jesus,” Ransom snapped. “How hard is it to put these god damn lights on this god damn house?” He was following Joni, confident in the theory that his father was simply being dramatic. Walt, on the other hand, might have needed medical attention.

Meg watched her feet as she was walking back inside. “Dr. Fields, we have a serious emergency right now. I think everyone’s dying!”

Ransom and Joni were helping Richard sit up when he turned back to you. “Hey, get inside, you’re wet and going to get sick.”

He had a point, so without argument, you turned to do so. You felt the boniest of hands on your shoulders before you were shoved down face-first into the snow.

That was when Joni started screaming. “Oh, my god, call the police! She’s going to kill her. Meg, call the police!”

Meg ran out of the house and saw what was happening and once again, started to panic. “Dr. Fields, you need to get here immediately!”

Before you even fully processed what had happened, Linda was on top of you turning you onto your back.

“You stole my house!” she screeched.

“Linda!” Richard scolded.

You saw her hands go for your throat—later, everyone would claim she was probably doing something else, she obviously wasn’t going to choke you. You did the only thing you could think to do, you grabbed a handful of snow and shoved it in her face.

She toppled over and you made your way on top of her. You weren’t going to hit your boyfriend’s mother, but you did proceed to throw snow in her face until Ransom had gotten you off her.

The grand total of injuries was seven. Yet, the total of injuries that had occurred directly in the incident was five. Donna had a bruised tailbone, Richard had a broken leg, Walt had a sprained wrist, your knee was cut up fairly terribly since you fell on it when Linda pushed you, and Linda had stitches on her cheek because the first time you threw snow at her, there was a huge block of ice that you weren’t aware of. After Richard pointed out that you hadn’t started the altercation, she punched him, and he now had a swollen eye. After Ransom had gotten you inside, Meg, in her state of panic, hadn’t seen the door was shut and walked straight into it, and her nose was broken.

You weren’t sure how this family had managed more disaster with nearly 300 fewer people, but there you were. Ransom had forced you into the shower to get all the frosting out of your hair and to hopefully prevent the cold he suspected you were going to catch given the tiny outfit you were parading around in outside.

He lured you out of the shower with a mug of hot chocolate. Every space heater in the house was gathered in your bedroom and as soon as you were in his reach, Ransom wrapped you up in at least three heavy blankets.

When he sat you down on the bed, he pulled your leg out so he could tend to your knee. You felt like a child with him sat next to you with a first aid kit, too-delicately prodding at your irritated, aching skin. He was babying you.

You didn’t feel guilty for what you had done to Linda, but you did hate that Ransom was in the middle. “I’m s—”

He held his hand up to you. “Don’t.”

“But—”

He turned up to you. “Babe, she attacked you.”

“I…threw a cookie at her.”

He snorted. “Yeah, that was a little crazy.”

“I am sorry,” you huffed. “We said we weren’t going to let them bother us today.”

“You finally told her this was your house. I’ve wanted that since we first moved in. I know what we said, but all in all, I think we gained more than we lost.”

“What did we gain, Ransom?”

“Well, she knows you’re scrappy so she might think twice before pushing you again.”

You rolled your eyes. “Anything else?”

“Everyone is going to be preoccupied taking care of each other, Joni doting on Meg, my mom basically doing everything for my dad, Walt and Donna being overly protective of one another…”

“So, we can have sex in the kitchen and there’s a higher chance we won’t get caught?”

“That was exactly what I was thinking.”

You shrugged. “If we got Jacob a dog—”

“You know what?” he cut in. “Get out of these blankets, I haven’t spanked you in a long time even though you’ve deserved it about five times over by now.”

He made a show of attempting to get you out of the blankets even though you both knew he wouldn’t do it. You laughed the entire time until Ransom laid himself out on top of you, uncaring about how heavy he was.

“Is everyone okay?”

“They’ll live.”

“Well, I know Meg will—she’s going to get a nose job.”

He snorted, rolling his eyes. “You are just going to have to live vicariously through her.”

“We kinda ruined Thanksgiving dinner.”

“I did not,” he argued. “The turkey is almost done, the pies are in the other oven, also almost done—”

“All three?”

He nodded. “Yep. Jacob, believe it or not, was happy to peel and cut the apples.”

You rolled your eyes. “I swear, Ransom.”

“As soon as everyone stops acting like they’re dying, we’ll be able to sit down…well, Donna might not be able to sit down.”

You laughed. “Your family is insane.”

“And clearly, you fit right in.”

“Clearly,” you muttered. Unfortunately.

Christmas Eve:

Sometimes, you wished that you had listened to him when he said this wasn’t happening. Because then you wouldn’t have needed to worry about so many god damn people! It would just be you and Ransom in absolute seclusion, but no. No, you would never have it so easy during this fucking holiday.

How difficult was it to pick up the presents that you had ordered? You picked them out, you organized it all, you had only asked Ransom to drive to a single location and obtain them for you. Why hadn’t he? Because he was sleeping at 2 in the afternoon.

What did you have for Jacob? Not a damn thing. You had no presents for the teenage delinquent you were terrified of. You weren’t family, he was going to store you away in the basement and torture you until he got bored. Ransom probably wouldn’t even realize you had been missing until Jacob placed your body parts all over the house. And three of Meg’s presents were also missing, you knew Linda was going to make another comment.

You would hit her with more ice. After you strangled her son, of course, who was currently hot helping in any way at all.

“Ransom, put your fucking drink down and hand me the tape!”

“Are your fucking hands broken?!”

“I’m holding the box!”

He slammed his drink down on the bedside table and angrily stormed his way to where you were surrounded by boxes, wrapping paper, and a million other things he wasn’t even aware you’d spent money on. This was too much for his family and he was just waiting for you to realize that they were nowhere near worth the effort you constantly put in.

Ransom picked up the tape, tore a piece off, and placed it between where your fingers were resting on the box.

“Thank you so much,” you responded, pure sarcasm.

And god damn, he had had enough of your fucking tone. “You are driving me insane!”

“I’m driving you insane?! Your family has been ruing my whole fucking life since March!”

“I didn’t want them here!”

“Well, I’m a human with actual empathy for others, so I logically knew that that was not an option!”

“You were going to leave my mother out of your precious sanctuary!”

“Because she’s abusive!” You shoved your hands into your hair and shook your head. “I’m done, absolutely done. I can’t have this conversation with you again. Your mother sucks, why is this news to you? I’m so sorry for trying to hold her accountable for her actions. Oh, but of course, every time someone tries to make any of you face the consequences for your actions, you act like it’s a hate crime!”

He glared. “I hate you.”

“I hate you!” you seethed.

“I can’t fucking believe I actually want to do this!” he turned away, scrubbing one of his hands down his face. “You make me so fucking crazy.”

“Do what?” you demanded. “What the hell are you talking about now? What god-awful thing have you decided to do?”

He made his way to the bed, tearing open the drawer to the bedside table on his side. He was muttering quickly under his breath and even if his speech hadn’t been so hurried, it was quiet enough that you had no chance of hearing anything.

It was silent for several moments before he turned back to you and threw something on the bed. He gestured to it then crossed his arms over his chest.

Since your bed was a mess of dark blankets, you weren’t sure what you were supposed to be seeing. You stood, carefully stepping your way out of the present-wrapping station you had created and neared the bed. You stopped dead in your tracks when you saw a tiny black box against the mattress.

You looked back at him, eyes wide, pleading. No…no, that was not happening. He wasn’t actually…

“Marry me.”

“What?!”

He actually seemed surprised by your reaction. He leaned over, snatched the box off the bed, and stomped back to you. “Marry me.”

“You’ve lost it,” you accused. “You’re actually literally insane. You need to be committed!”

“Yes, it’s insane that I want to marry you but for some fucking reason, I do!”

“Oh, my god, Ransom!” You slapped the box out of his hands and that was just too much for him. “I’m not fucking marrying you, you’ve never even told me you love me!”

He hurriedly picked up the box, tossed it back onto the bed, and then grabbed you by your arms. “You’re seriously fucking bringing that up now?”

“What does that even mean?! Yes, I’m bringing it up now. You marry someone when you’re in love with them and since you haven’t said it after seven years, I understandably doubt your feelings for me.”

“You are such a fucking brat.”

“You’re a brat!” you yelled, more exasperated than you’d ever felt. “You’re such a fucking entitled brat! There’s no other way to describe you. You just think I’m going to say yes and give you everything you want when you can’t even say you love me!”

“This is absolutely fucking ridiculous.”

“Just fucking say it, Ransom! If you love me, just say it!”

“You will not bully me into saying something that I don’t even deem as important.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“Love is a word! Okay? It means nothing. My parents fucking say they love each other, then my dad fucked someone else. Neal and Joni said they loved each other every god damn second that they could but guess what. He still died. And don’t even get me started on Walt and Donna, their “love” created the next great serial killer of this wonderful fucking country!”

You were speechless, Ransom never talked to you like this. He never brought up the fucked-up aspects of his family that had consequently fucked him up as well.

He finally let you go when he realized you weren’t going to say anything, turning to walk away. You startled when he banged his hand against the wall. “God damn it!”

“Why do you make me say it to you then?” you demanded.

“I don’t know!” he admitted.

Again, you were both silent. You were thinking of the best way to respond, and you certainly couldn’t come up with that, but you knew what you wanted to say. “I’m not marrying you.”

He laughed.

It was a terrifying sound that gave you chills. He was going to kill you, you were 90% sure. As soon as he started walking toward you, you turned away to run to the bathroom, but Ransom had always known that would be your plan.

He effortlessly caught you and dragged you back to the bed. He shoved you down, pinned your arms to the mattress to stop you from hitting him, and slid his hips between your legs to make it impossible to kick him. “You’re going to marry me.”

“You’re going to force me to marry you?”

“I’ll drag you to the fucking courthouse if I have to.”

“The courthouse?!”

“I want to give you a wedding, the obscenely priced, overly dramatic show that I know you want. But if you won’t say yes, you leave me no other option.”

You rolled your eyes. “Then I guess that’s what you’ll have to do because my answer is no.”

Luckily for him, your outfit was not overly complex. He knew you weren’t wearing anything under your skirt because his hand was between your legs for most of dinner that night. You didn’t let him make you come because you were throwing a temper tantrum over the situation with the presents, but he was evidently not deterred.

After he moved your wrists together and kept you held there, he used his free hand to get his pants out of the way. In seconds, he was fully inside you and was offering you no time to adjust.

You realized why when you felt his hands moving over your head. Turning up that way, you saw him fumbling with the box. He was going to put the ring on your finger, and you had the sinking suspicion you might not be able to part with it if you saw it. But no, this was not happening.

You managed to get one of your hands free and yanked on his hair.

He kissed you because he had nothing left to do but bite your lip. Hard. He didn’t even falter when you cried out.

He was the idiot who let you keep your shoes on and you were limited on where you could get your heel. You did yoga, but you weren’t some contortionist. You had one option, and that was stabbing your heel into the side of his ass, and it was completely his own fault.

Finally, he pulled away and was forced to let you on top, which was the only advantage you needed. You smacked the box off the bed. However, now that he wasn’t overly concerned with holding you to the bed, he could pull your hair until you relented and fell back onto the bed.

He rolled over several times until you were both on the very edge, managing to kick your heels off in the process. He never stopped driving his hips into you, knowing that the only advantage he had was how weak you always got for his cock.

You could hear him reaching around blindly on the floor but with each brush of his skin against your clit, you got less scared about the idea that he would get the ring on you. You knew you didn’t want it. You knew you didn’t want to marry him and there was no way in hell you would willingly say yes, but fuck, you wanted to come.

You touched the side of his face and he finally looked back at you.

“Say yes.”

“Fuck you.” You pulled him down, your lips meeting his. There was blood in the kiss and your lip was throbbing, but you couldn’t care. Not when he was fucking you this violently, this angrily. He’d never fucked you like this before. You were no stranger to Ransom being a cruel lover, but there had never been so much pure wrath.

He had located the box, you could tell when his fingernails stopped clicking against the hardwood floor. You were panicking, not fully thinking through your plans, you just knew you needed to be able to reach the box. You threw all your weight at him and he was barely balanced as it was.

Despite his anger, he still had more of a mind than you—probably because he wanted something out of this, he needed to be mindful to get his way. He basically let you throw him on the floor because he worried about the results if he managed to fall on you.

Instead of retaliating any further, you grabbed his hand and brought it down to your center. He needed no further prompt than that, his thumb began to circle your clit as his other hand grabbed your hip and moved you along the length of his cock.

Where was the box? On his chest, he set this there because he was the cockiest fucking asshole in the world. He saw you eyeing it and smirked. “Go ahead, baby, take it, but you know I’ll fucking stop.”

That was unimaginable. Both hands reached for the one he had on your hip. You continued rolling your hips like it was the last time you were ever going to get to, dragging his hand up to your mouth.

“I swear if you fucking bite me,” he warned.

No, you weren’t going to do that. Yet. You choked yourself on his fingers, stifling all the pathetic sounds that were spilling out from you. Ransom simply enjoyed the show, enjoyed you fucking yourself on his cock, enjoyed you staring at him with those smoky, delicate eyes as you sucked on his fingers.

He stopped touching your clit once he felt you coming. He used that hand to hold you up on your knees and thrust his hips into you punishingly. You were dizzy, disastrously satiated and overstimulated. He finished with a shaking moan, a tell that he was trying to be quiet.

It wasn’t late, the family was undoubtedly aware of what was going on.

He turned down, staring at the place you were still connected. Ransom waited until his cum was spilling out of you and then yanked you back down to take his entire length. If there was anything that Ransom did love in this world it was filling you with his cum and watching it slowly pour out.

You only allowed him to do this several times before you finally bit down on his fingers. His hand lifted from your hip and tore your hair back hard enough that you opened your mouth to yell at him. When he could pull his fingers from your mouth, he wrapped that hand around your neck and pulled you flat down, your chest to his, the ring box trapped between you and him, digging painfully into your ribs.

He slammed you into the wall and you brought your legs up to hook around his waist. “Sorry, daddy, I didn’t mean to bite you.”

“After I get this ring on you, I’m gonna make you call your parents and tell them we’re engaged. And I’m gonna fuck you and make you call me daddy, just to remind your father how much of a daddy’s girl you used to be.”

“Why call when you could Facetime?”

“Then I’m gonna have you choking on my cock, baby, all they need to see is the ring on your finger.” The hand in your hair wedged its way between you and him and he located your clit once more.

It was too much but you knew Ransom wasn’t going to care. Begging him to stop would just provide him enjoyment and that was the last thing you wanted him to have. He kept his other hand around your neck because he knew you would say something that would annoy the fuck out of him if he let you.

When you were coming, his hips were moving once more and his hand abandoned your clit to move the box. You felt it sliding along your skin until it was gone and then you realized he wasn’t holding your neck anymore. He had your left hand held clutched in his and you felt the cold band he was sliding onto your finger.

You couldn’t do much, you had lost and you knew it. But you could leave a few more marks on him, so you latched your free hand onto his shoulder and dragged your nails down his back, and you bit down on his shoulder harder than you probably should have. He was a fucking animal, it seemed like he didn’t care at all. He just wanted to get the ring on you, and once he had, he grabbed your face and shoved you back.

You knew he was trying to get you to look at the ring, but you refused. Your eyes were slammed shut and nothing was going to change that.

He walked you to the bathroom, pulling out to bend you over the counter because he knew you would instinctually lift both hands up to the edge. Once you had, he shoved his cock back inside you and grabbed your jaw to angle your face in the direction of your left hand. “Look at it.”

“Fuck. You!” you growled.

He smacked your ass and even though you shrieked like he was murdering you, you did not open your eyes. He repeated this several times until his own hand was stinging almost unbearably. New plan.

He used his feet to kick your legs apart further and you felt a sharp, sudden slap against your cunt. Your eyes snapped open and a scream tore from your throat. He almost felt bad until he saw your attention on the ring. Was he an ass? Yes. But had he won? Also, yes.

That fucking asshole. His hand dropped to rub over your aching pussy, cock still moving at a painfully fast pace. Ransom was fucking furious and the only way he could take it out on you was by fucking you this way.

You couldn’t say you had any complaints about it. Tomorrow, when you were pretending you couldn’t stand to look at him, you would be bruised and sore everywhere that he had touched you. You would be wet all day thinking about how it happened.

The fucking ring. A huge cushion-cut diamond set in a halo on top of a diamond-encrusted band. It wasn’t simple, it sounded like it, but there was something so beautiful about it. Fuck, you wouldn’t let this ring go unless you were dead. Because he was right. You liked money and diamonds and you were materialistic, and this was from Ransom and you loved everything he gave you. And at the end of it all, even though you were saying no to him, he shoved that ring onto your finger because you were his and that was never going to change.

“Say yes.”

“No.”

“Fine.” He reached for your hand but stopped when he saw you make a fist.

“Try to take this ring from me and I will fucking kill you, Ransom.”

He scoffed. “Great, I’m gonna get my phone to Facetime your parents.”

You rolled your eyes. “Fuck you.”

“Not yet,” he pointed out. “First, I need to fuck your mouth, but then—”

From outside, the dogs started to bark.

You let your head fall onto the counter and groaned. “I fucking swear, every fucking time we’re fucking—”

He pulled out and rushed from the bathroom.

“Hey!” you called out. “What the hell?”

“Shit, shit, shit,” he muttered to himself as he searched for where he’d thrown his pants. When had he even gotten them off?

“Ransom?”

“Wait there,” he directed and then he dashed out of the room.

“Excuse you!” It wasn’t like you had much of an option, your legs weren’t working yet, and you were sweating and gross, and bruised and your lip was swollen and clearly bitten.

After several moments, he hadn’t come back. What the hell was he up to? You winced and hummed, made any noise that made you feel slightly better, as you tiptoed around the room looking for something to put on. You settled on one of his shirts and slowly, pathetically made your way downstairs. “Ransom?”

No response.

“Hello, anyone?” If someone else was around, you could force them to look for your boyfriend instead of having to do so yourself. But it seemed that you were out of luck on that.

The dogs were still barking like crazy, but why was no one else reacting? And why did Ransom care? He never paid attention to the dogs. You followed the sound of their barking, they had moved from the backyard to the side of the house. Which was odd because they never went there.

The garage? Your suspicions were confirmed when you heard Linda complaining about something, being constantly interrupted by Joni, Walt, and Ransom. Okay, again, unusual. He tended to ignore his mother, not argue with her.

His eyes widened when he saw you in the doorway. “No, no, this has to stop. I need everyone out of this room.”

“What the hell is going on?” you questioned.

“We don’t want to alarm you,” Donna began, “But—”

“Pretty sure he has drugs,” Meg claimed. “Like, hardcore drugs. Heroin, probably.”

Your eyes widened at him.

He glared. “I don’t have drugs, don’t be ridiculous.”

You gasped, pointing in the direction of the dogs still barking outside. “Those are German Shepherds, they’re drug dogs!”

Meg gasped, nodding at you with wide eyes. “I’m calling the cops.”

“Knock it off,” Linda scolded. “Ransom, show us what you’re hiding right now, or we’ll tear this room apart.”

He rolled his eyes, storming over to the corner of the room where a sheet was laid over something. “Fine, merry fucking Christmas.” He yanked it off one of the old kennels Linda used for her dogs when they were being trained.

There was a long list of things you were suspecting to see. Three sleeping puppies? No, they were nowhere on the list. And then you realized that was why he hadn’t gone to pick up Jacob’s present.

“You got me more puppies?” Linda inquired.

You, along with most of the room, glared at her.

“No,” Ransom snapped. “One is for Jacob and one’s for Meg.”

Both Jacob and Meg excitedly ran to the cage, startling the puppies awake. Much to Ransom’s dismay, the baby talk began without a second thought and the puppies were whining and making those small noises that always irritated him.

One for Jacob. One for Jacob. Then…the third. Oh, god.

He turned to you with a sigh.

“Yes,” you said, “Yes, yes, a million times yes!” You ran across the room, ignoring all your aching limbs and threw yourself into his arms. “And I’ll stop being so mean to you, and if you want to do this at the courthouse, I won’t even be upset because you’re so good to me and I’m awful to you. I’m sorry!”

“It’s okay,” he assured.

“No,” you protested. “It’s a million times not okay! I’m so sorry.” You pulled back to touch his face. “I’m really, really sorry. But I’m going to be the best wife in the world—”

“What?” Joni cut in.

That was the only thing in the world that could have drawn attention away from the puppies.

“Wife?” Linda repeated.

You checked with Ransom and he nodded. He had been looking forward to this. All you had to do was hold out your hand and Joni and Meg were excitedly shrieking. There hadn’t been a wedding in the family in so long.

“Wow,” Walt said. “Ransom? Engaged, showing commitment? This is the strangest year I’ve ever lived.”

Ransom rolled his eyes.

Before another word could be said, Linda collapsed onto the floor. Richard and Walt were the only ones who felt alarmed at the situation, while everyone else moved in closer to see the puppies.

“Which one is ours?” you wondered.

“Yours,” he corrected. “And the blonde one. She was the least yappy I could find on such short notice.”

Your eyebrows pulled together. “Where did you go?”

“The pound, obviously.”

“I fucking love you,” you blurted out, grabbing his face to pull him down into a kiss.

Once again, the room echoed with disgusted sounds.

“Which one’s mine?” Meg wondered.

“I couldn’t care less,” he admitted.

“I’m gonna name mine Hugh,” Jacob announced.

Ransom gave you an expectant look.

“I love you?” you tried.

“Gonna need a lot more than that.” He picked you up and because you knew Ransom wasn’t going to accept any kind of attitude from you for a very long time, you hooked your legs and arms around him and willingly went.

“I’ll take care of your dog until you guys are done being gross!” Meg promised.

chris tags:

@onetwo3000​ @chris-evans-indian-fanfic​ @donutloverxo​ @kleohoneyao3​ @cevans-fics​

ransom tags:

@la-cey​

[missoneminute]

That anon who asked how lockdown is going in Australia got me thinking that many folks don’t know now how bad it’s gotten here. 

TLDR: The Australian government screwed up the vaccine rollout and we have an unvaccinated population in bonkers level lockdown and a vaccine shortage. 

Right now we are in lockdown since late June due to a Delta outbreak and the highest infection numbers we’ve ever had since the start, which are still low by international standards but very high for us. We’ve been told lockdown won’t end till we reach 80 percent vaccinated - we are at 20 percent now, among the lowest in the western world. There’s a critical vaccine shortage because our government failed to place orders for Pfizer when they could have, largely for cost saving reasons as the Astra was cheaper. They have lots of Astra but advised against anyone under 40 getting it due to multiple blood clot deaths here. People under 30 weren’t eligible for any vaccine at all until recently. They have since changed the advice to push Astra for those under 40, which as you can imagine lots aren’t keen on. The government has been stripping people who have Pfizer appointments - which have months long waiting lists - of their Pfizer vaccine and offering Astra instead, or nothing at all, at complete random. People in rural areas had their appointments cancelled so the shots could be taken by the cities instead. The waiting lines at most major vaccination hubs are five or more hours of people crammed together in barely distanced lines. And at the end of that you might not even get the shot you signed up for. Most folks don’t want the Astra because the health advice abruptly changed seemingly just to use up their supply. There’s no other vaccine on offer and the current wait time for Pfizer is till October for most areas. In order to book an appointment, you have to check every single clinic in your area one by one and fill out forms as you go, a process that takes as much as four hours. At the end of this you’re unlikely to find a slot before October. Not to mention the government site is riddled with bugs and the pages just fail or list appointments that don’t exist. We have some Moderna coming in a few months and the Pfizer supply is trickling in but there’s just not enough. We have an unvaccinated population being ravaged because of the complete failure of the vaccine rollout. Many predicted this would happen. We were largely Covid free for many months because we have the toughest border restrictions in the world and for no other reason. We just closed down to the world and even the states closed their borders to one another. We have two week quarantine just to travel between some states. You currently need a permit to even leave Sydney city. Pfizer hoped to use Australia as a shining example of how to do the pandemic right and offered them up a bounty of vaccines early on. Instead our government decided to save a few bucks and turned them down, ordering just 5 million doses for 25 million people. We have police and army patrolling the streets fining or arresting people for being outside without an excuse. Many Australians are stuck overseas and not being allowed to return. It’s also almost impossible to leave the country, even dual citizens of other countries are being prohibited from leaving - this happened to a good family friend who tried to leave for the USA. She’s an American citizen and they just said no. She’s stuck here, and she’s one of many. Many cases also of people being kept from loved ones as they die from terminal illness in hospital - my brother-in-law is among them, he was stopped from seeing his father on his deathbed after a stroke. He never got to say goodbye and he wasn’t granted a state travel exemption till it was too late. Also cases of people who have come here from other countries to see dying loved ones and had to say goodbye over FaceTime because they were locked in quarantine hotels for two weeks as their loved ones died. And then after that trauma, those same people are being stopped from leaving Australia and returning back overseas until they provide proof they are an overseas resident, such as utility bills. I’m not a conspiracy theorist, I support the vaccine and I support masks and even lockdowns. But Australia has become an example of both extreme overreach and complete and utter mismanagement, and what’s going on here is criminal. I know I’m rambling but what’s going on here is hard to describe and fills me with despair.

[nneogram]

think about it — part one. get laid!

pairing: jaehyun x reader (f)

genre: enemies to lovers!au, college!au, fluff

word count: 8.4k

warnings: language, mentions of sex but not really (oc keeps being told to get laid “emotionally” idk), jungwoo gets scolded about the importance of consent, jungwoo’s in a frat but not really but yes really, quick reminiscent phone call w/ bestie jungkook, oc has unhealthy studying habits but dw it gradually gets better from here

a/n: i’ll say it for all of us - FINALLY, an update on here. this is result of my own college shenanigans, stories from my friends, and far too many fantasies whilst in quarantine. jeni needs to lay off the k-dramas, sheesh. i’d also like to note that this is unedited! there may be a few grammar/spelling mistakes.

▸ playlist (to be linked later)

Your roommate claims that you need to, in the simplest terms, “Get laid.” You are vehemently against this proposal, despite her insistence and clarification.

“Emotionally. You need to get laid emotionally, Y/N,” Megan whines. That’s all she can do from where she is sitting, tucked safely away beneath the blankets on her bed. It’s cocoon-like, she’s explained to you before, “like being in the womb.” Safe. Secure. Warm. You think that if that was her cocoon, then Megan would emerge a butterfly. If you were in her place? You would emerge a moth.

“I don’t think any getting laid needs to be done, regardless of if it’s emotional or not.” You take another flashcard from your prepared deck. Strong Acids. HCl, HBr, HI… HClO4? A hiss leaves your lips when you flip the card over to see the answer. You were missing two more acids. You reluctantly place the card into the pile to review again, which sat next to a much smaller pile of correct cards. The goal for the morning was to move all the cards in the “wrong” pile to the “right” pile, but considering the size difference of the two stacks, that goal would not be achieved.

Megan’s sigh pulls you from your focus. “Dude. Do you see yourself right now? I don’t think I’ve seen you doing anything other than studying for the past two weeks. I’m going to ace this chem midterm and I’m not even in chem. I’m not even a STEM major.”

You frown. “Sorry. Was I being too loud? I can go-”

“No, don’t worry about me. This is about you. I’m concerned for you - you’ve been cooped up more these two weeks than you were in the entirety of fall quarter. Have you taken a break recently?”

“I slept for eight hours straight, I think that’s a good enough break?”

“No, like a real break. Away from studies and school and just doing something… I dunno, fun?”

You shake your head. The past few weeks had been nothing but relentless studying. In an effort to maintain your pristine GPA, you shoved aside what little downtime you allotted yourself in fall quarter to focus on school. It was the least you could do, considering that you were on track to apply to medical school at the end of your undergraduate career. You were only in your first year, so all of the other requirements for med school - clinic, shadowing, research, the works - were inapplicable for the time being. There wasn’t much to get you ahead other than your 4.0.

Megan knows this, but she also knows that you have little to no social life outside of the bare minimum. It’s an unspoken truth that the two of you being assigned as roommates was a blessing in disguise: your studious tendencies help motivate Megan to stay on task while Megan’s more laidback nature reminds you to take a breather sometimes. 

This was one of those times.

“I’m telling you,” Megan crawls over to the edge of her bed to get closer, “You should relax a bit. Just a teeny, tiny bit. Have some fun, live out your first year of college! Make some art, go to the gym, I dunno, step out of your comfort zone. Get laid!”

“You say that last one as if talking from experience,” you tease. 

What was the charge on sulfide again? Fuck, it was two minus. Another card goes into the “wrong” pile.

Megan scoffs. “Please. I’ve only ever had one boyfriend, and that was in middle school. The most we did was hold hands. Besides, we don’t need men… I just want one.” She mumbles this last part as an afterthought before returning her focus to you. “I think getting a boyfriend would be a great distraction for you.”

You gawk at your roommate, eyes flitting from her to your toppling stack of incorrectly answered cards and back to her. “Do you see this? I don’t need any distractions right now.”

“No, no, I - fuck. I got that all wrong, didn’t I.” Megan facepalms. “What I mean is maybe you should befriend some people, or find some kind of emotional outlet. As much as I pride myself on being your source of positivity, I’m not around all the time to tell you to take a break and relax. You tend to be hard on yourself, y’know?”

Your gaze once again travels to your flashcards, their amount of use prominent in the worn-down corners and smudged ink. “I guess…”

There’s a smile of satisfaction on Megan’s face. “Think about it,” she concludes, then crawls back to her cocoon of blankets to take a nap.

--

The gloom of the rainy weather hits most forcefully in January. With the merriment of the holiday season behind you, it seems there is nothing ahead but cold, and rain, and emptiness. Only so many mugs of hot chocolate could keep your heart warm, and it wasn’t even the good type of hot chocolate - it was the powdery stuff that you mixed in with your lukewarm water because the water kettle you brought with you to the dorm was buggy and never fully heated up a pot of water. 

Yeah, you could buy yourself a cup of cocoa from the coffee shop on campus, but as the college kid stereotype proved, you were broke. So you settle for your half-assed attempt at a comfort drink, taking extra effort to stir the dregs that tend to settle at the bottom of your styrofoam cup.

“So you need to get laid?” Jungkook’s voice crackles over the phone.

You sigh. For getting into one of the most prestigious universities in the country, Jungkook lacked the ability to draw proper conclusions from given information. He clearly hadn’t paid attention to your five minute spiel on your deteriorating motivation for life and your roommate’s unusual suggestion. “No,” you begin slowly, because if you didn’t control yourself you were going to get annoyed quickly, “I do not need to get laid.”

It’s dusk, around that time of the evening where the world slows down as the sky is painted a myriad of pinks, purples, and oranges. Even in January the sunsets in your college town never failed to astonish you. However, it’s also the time of the day when loneliness hits you most, and for a fraction of a moment you get homesick and usually end up calling someone from home. In this case, you end up contacting a close friend - though you’re beginning to question Jungkook’s title as a close friend, considering he completely missed the point of your rant.

“Well it sure sounds like it,” Jungkook refutes. There’s a loud crunching noise on the other end of the call, and you have to bring the phone away from your ear as the crackling continues. You know for a fact that Jungkook has bitten into a chip, most likely the barbecue ones he always had on hand. The audacity to snack on junk food in the middle of a conversation about your existential crisis - you sometimes wonder how you and Jungkook became friends in high school. 

Then again, you were on the other end slurping the remnants of your hot cocoa. Maybe there was something going for the two of you.

“Think about it.” You’re reminded of that afternoon when Megan said the exact same thing. “You’re unmotivated. Why? Because you’re lonely. How do we fix that? You need to get laid-”

“-Emotionally. Emotionally laid-”

“-Yeah yeah, same difference. They go hand in hand,” Jungkook brushes off. “The point still stands. When was the last time you were in a relationship?”

You hesitate to answer. “I’ve never been in a relationship,” you mumble.

“I couldn’t hear you. What?”

“I said I’ve never been in a relationship,” you repeat with a sigh.

There’s a beat of silence. “You’re kidding.”

You shake your head, momentarily forgetting this is a phone call and not an in-person conversation where Jungkook can see you. Students begin to flood the sidewalks outside of the dorms, likely the last wave of students returning for their later classes. A girl - Megan, you realize after squinting - waves at you from across the street. You wave back, gesturing to her that you’re on a call. She nods and goes on her way to the dorm. 

You return your focus to the call. “No, not kidding.”

“I’m taking that lapse of silence as you actually having to think about it.” You roll your eyes, another gesture that Jungkook cannot see. “How? You’re telling me all four years of high school you never got with someone? Not even a fling? Not even that weird ‘talking’ phase kids do these days? What have you been doing all this time?”

Your mind immediately goes back to your high school graduation. “Valedictorian, weighted GPA of 4.8, Y/N Y/L/N, attending…” You remember the smile on your face as the principal handed you your diploma. You remember the smiles on your parents’ faces, the pride and joy in their eyes. That was when you knew it had all been worth it - no one but you, your parents, and your own pure ambition fueling your fire for the four years of high school.

Maybe the closest you got to any sort of romantic relationship was… with Jungkook.

You liked Jungkook before your brain could fully process it, denying it as platonic affection for the better half of three years as he took you under his wing your freshman year. It was comforting to have someone older than you help you navigate high school, but as much as you tried you could not view Jungkook as an older brother as he so claimed to be.

Of course, nothing was ever to happen. Jeon Jungkook was a boy entirely out of your league - star student, star athlete, poster child for all things good and right in the world - but most importantly, he was your closest friend. It was this label that helped set a boundary for your affections, and your crush became more of a pastime to delve into when you wanted a break from your studies. A fantasy that would never come true.

It wasn’t until he moved away for college your senior year that your crush subsided, hitting you like some sort of epiphany when he returned for his winter break. You had been beyond elated to reunite with your friend, but when you looked in his eyes it dawned on you that the weight of his words and actions no longer affected you as much as they did in the past.

That was your only stint with romance, and you were fine with it staying that way. Yeah, it was a fruitless endeavor, but look what you got out of it: a great friend! And only at the price of three years of unnecessary emotional turmoil and relentless unrequited pining. What a bargain.

“I’ve been busy with school, mainly.” It’s an insufficient summation of your high school experience, but it got the point across. Technically, it wasn’t a lie.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m proud of you and all - and I respect your decision to be single! Human rights and all that - but maybe it’s time for you to get into a relationship.”

You snap your fingers loudly enough to startle a group of guys walking past. You hope the grimace on your face is enough of an apology. “Oh my God, thanks Jungkook! Now that you mention it, let me just hit up one of the many young eligible bachelors pining over me, because there are so many right now.”

The feigned enthusiasm in your voice does not entertain Jungkook as much as you would have liked it to. “I’m sure there are, Y/N. There were plenty in high school.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Nope.” The playful smile you sport falls from your lips as he proceeds to dive into a list of names. 

“The one guy with the yellow hair… Yugyeom thought you were cute… Oh, Taehyung liked you too-”

“-Taehyung?” You gawk. “The Kim Taehyung. The guy two years older than you, editor of the yearbook and captain of the lacrosse team? The Kim Taehyung who was Prom King. Him?” It’s difficult to process a senior that you had regarded so highly had taken  interest in you in your lowly freshman year.

“Yeah, I know, right? I told him he was out of your league-”

“-Hey!”

“-But I said that out of jealousy. Heck, even I liked you at some point, Y/N. You’re quite a catch, just super oblivious.”

The reminder of your phone call with Jungkook consists of your disbelieving laughs and Jungkook’s reassurances that yes, that many people liked you in high school.

“I’m sure there’s plenty of people interested in you. You just have to see it for yourself first.” Oddly prophetic for someone who claims he could survive solely off of energy drinks and barbecue chips, but considering he was studying at an Ivy League, he had to have some credibility. You end the phone call possibly more confused than you had been before the conversation. Swirling the contents of your cup absentmindedly, you realize you’ve drunk all of your hot cocoa. All that is left at the bottom of your cup are the clumps of cocoa powder that hadn’t been properly stirred. The dregs. Of course.

You relay your findings to Megan the next day over a lunch of poorly cooked rice and under seasoned chicken. “Food crafted by the gods to remind us of our inferiority,” as Megan liked to call it.

She claps her hands like a seal. “So I was right!” She cheers over a mouthful of food. “You need to get laid!”

You’re a bit too late to cover her mouth, her ambiguous words now out in the open for others nearby to hear and assume the wrong thing. Glancing around, you’re relieved to find that no one seemed to notice, save for one boy at a nearby table surrounded by some of his friends. He gives you a look but you refrain from making eye contact.

“I feel like you and I heard different stories just now.” You keep your voice down. “Meg, I just found out my high school crush - debatably, my first love - liked me at some point when I liked him. Do you know how big that is?”

“Do you know how big that isn’t?” Megan shoots back. “Because nothing came out of it. You never acted on your feelings. And something tells me that even if this John Cook-”

“-His name is Jungkook, but okay-”

“-Even if he had acted on his feelings, you would never believe it.” Ouch. She really went for your lack of self-esteem right there, and that shit hurted. Regardless, she’s right, and you both know it.

“You know when we say this, we’re not trying to force you into anything you don’t want to do,” Megan clarifies. “I’m not saying you should get dicked down by the first guy who gives you attention, but wouldn’t it be nice to let someone - someone who genuinely cares for you - to let them into that dark and twisty mind of yours? God knows what’s going on up there.” She gestures to your forehead with her spoon.

Brushing aside Megan’s crude wording near the beginning, you’re at a loss for words. Unsure of how to respond, you mumble, “But there’s no one like that in my life. Other than you, that is.”

“Because you never let anyone close enough to truly know you. Just…” she pops another spoonful of rice into her mouth, “Just think about it.”

-- 

D-1 until your midterm. Nomenclature and ionic charges are now extremely familiar to you, having taken the spot from Megan as Number One Friend. And yet, you still haven’t successfully completed your flashcards.

Strong Acids. You suck in a deep breath, swerving in between groups of people as you make your way to the cafe. Walking quickly with your head down as the sure fire way of getting to any destination as quickly as possible. Okay Y/N, you got this… HCl, HBr, HI, HClO4… HNO3? You flip the card over and hiss. You were missing one more response. You truly hated it here.

The cafe is bustling with students on their laptops and scribbling away in notebooks, all likely studying for their respective exams. The scent of freshly ground coffee beans pervades the entirety of the interior, drawing you further inward until you’re standing at the cashier. 

“One tall vanilla latte, please.” You hand the girl behind the counter your money and stand aside to let the next person in line order. Once your order is called, you grab your drink - Ah, nothing like a fresh cup of capitalism to revitalize your motivation to study - and search for a place to sit. As if by the grace of God, someone leaves their seat at the barstools just as you turn around. Beautiful.

“Excuse me,” you tap the shoulder of one of the people next to the open seat. “Is this seat taken?” He shakes his head no, and you take that as your signal to sit.

You find yourself sandwiched between two young men, each immersed in their own studies. The one to your right, the one you had talked to briefly, appears to want no further interruptions, both earbuds in his ears. The one to your left never turned around to begin with, head down as he types away at his laptop. All you can make out are his broad shoulders in a brown leather jacket and a mop of strawberry blond hair. An interesting choice of hair color, but you weren’t one to judge. He’s nodding his head to some tune, and it’s only then you realize he has one earbud in. You wonder what kind of music a cute man like himself would listen to -

Get a hold of yourself, Y/N, you chastise yourself for showing sudden interest in a complete stranger. The day before your midterm at that - there was no space in your head for an unknown young man who was probably good looking, too - No! Focus. Flashcards. You fumble in your jacket pocket for your index cards.

Chemistry nomenclature, round fifty-six.

As you’re reviewing, you overhear the conversation proceeding next you with the cute guy and a girl. “Excuse me, is this seat taken?” The familiar words make you think of mere moments before when you were asking the same thing.

“It isn’t, but… you can’t sit there.”

Huh? 

“I’m sorry?” The girl seems to mirror your confusion.

“You can’t sit here. I’m sorry.”

“But someone else can?”

Your flashcards go ignored as you choose to eavesdrop on the full conversation. The man stalls, looking at the girl up and down. “... Yeah, maybe.”

Trying your best to not draw attention to yourself, you turn your head in slow, languid movements to look around. Was anyone else seeing this? Hearing this? Were you the next unsuspecting victim on an episode of What Would You Do? You were half expecting a game show host to step out and introduce himself at any moment. Y/N, you’ve just been Punk’d! 

Unfortunately (or fortunately, you couldn’t decide which scenario was better), no game show host steps out from behind a curtain, and it sinks in that this guy wasn’t joking. He was intent on not letting this girl sit next to him.

“Look,” the girl runs a hand through her hair, a habit of frustration, maybe. “I really need a place to sit and work on things, and this seat is open. That, and it’s a public space. So if you’ll excuse me-”

The young man easily lifts his backpack from his chair with one hand and places it in the open seat. “There. It’s taken now. Sorry.”

The girl’s eyes widen, and you can only imagine what your face looks like right now. You’re in just as much shock as she is. 

You scoff, and this time you don’t care if he hears. And he does: the stranger finally turns around in his seat to reveal an extremely attractive face. Chiseled jawline, deep brooding eyes, dimples even when he was scowling. You freeze and your breath hitches in your throat. It’s a shame he had to go and open his mouth.

“Excuse me,” you cut in sweetly, making a point to only make eye contact with the girl. “You can sit here. I’m about to leave.”

The girl’s eyes go wide at the addition of a third party. “Oh, no, you don’t have to! Thank you so much though.”

You shove your flashcards into your backpack and stand up from the seat. “No no, I insist, it’s fine. Besides, I didn’t want to sit there anymore.” Only then do you shoot a glare at the young man. “I couldn’t focus.”

Judging by the way the girl eyes the strawberry blond next to you, you think she doesn’t want to sit there anymore, either. Nevertheless, a seat was a seat. She thanks you profusely and you head out the doors and down the path to return to the dorms. 

Naturally your mind drifts back to the stranger. Who was he to have so much pride as to deny a seat to someone he didn’t know? A seat that wasn’t his, either? The thought that people like him exist irks you.

He was so good-looking, too, your subconscious proceeds to remind you. 

But alas, a jerk was a jerk, and at the end of the day you had far more important things to worry about than an indecent stranger whom you doubt you would see again. More important things such as -

Your phone rings with an alarm notifying you of your next scheduled event: Final Review B4 Exam! You sigh. Looks like it was back to the books (and flashcards) for you for the rest of the night.

It doesn’t hit you until you crash land into your desk chair: in your anger-fueled exit from the cafe, you had completely forgotten your barely touched vanilla latte sitting at the barstool counter. At this point you’re ready to tear your hair out at the roots. You’re five dollars and one fresh cup of caffeinated capitalism short for the night’s study session. You really hated it here.

If Megan were here, she would whip you into shape real fast, shouting at you that you’re a “Bad Bitch!” or some other expletive motivation that would comfort you. Except Megan isn’t here, attending some kind of club meeting, leaving you alone in the dorm. Another sigh escapes your lips and you tilt your head back to stare at the ceiling. 

Maybe, just maybe, you needed to follow through on this whole “getting emotionally laid” thing.

--

The midterm you had so diligently studied for was a success. Inorganic Chemistry A5 didn’t know what was coming when you rolled up with your beloved flashcards - all successfully completed, mind you - ready to fight. Needless to say you were able to enter the weekend with no qualms. You now had much needed time to recuperate and as Megan had said before, to “take a break” (among other things you were not going to address anytime soon). 

Some students recovered from the trauma of frequent exams via partying, deciding it was better to be under the influence in order to get over their academic standing. Some would meet up with their friends, maybe gossip about the latest episode of the hottest reality TV show. In your case, you decide to binge watch as many k-dramas as humanly possible. While you preferably do so in the comfort of your bed, tonight Megan has taken authoritative control over the dorm room. Meaning, she had a psychology midterm the following Monday and needed to be able to focus on nothing but the role of the amygdala without the OST of whatever drama you were watching in the background. You know for a fact if you were in the room minding your own business Megan would ultimately get distracted and join you in your k-drama marathon. Thus you are thrown to the streets with nothing but the clothes on your back and your belongings stuffed into your backpack.

You take extra care to avoid the puddles forming on the sidewalks, the result of on and off rain throughout the day. There are noticeably less people outside, and you have a feeling that any building you choose to house yourself in will be quite the opposite, likely packed with students. 

After milling about campus for a few minutes, you finally settle down in the Student Community Center - a fancy name for yet another building on campus where students could lounge about and study slash socialize. As predicted, there are significantly more people crowded in the lobby area of the two-story building. Your boots squeak against the tiled floor as you make your way down an inconspicuous hallway. Tile turns to carpeting when you step into an almost empty study room. Only a handful of people are present in the room, scattered across the tables and couches. No one ever bothered to check the rooms at the very ends of the hallways - only those more dedicated to being unbothered ever made it that far - and you were grateful for this as you settled down at one of the open couches.

Hotel Del Luna is the show of choice for the evening, and you cuddle up to the armrest of the couch as you press Play. You had watched this one before, having been forced to do so with Jungkook at its release. Curse him and his admiration for IU - some of the ghost scenes kept you up at night the weeks after watching. You much preferred the more lighthearted slice-of-life k-dramas, but following your phone call with Jungkook you were drawn to the darker show. Call it nostalgia, call it an attempt to relive the happy memories of the past, call it denial of reality, whatever.

You’re two hours into your binge watch when you notice an unfamiliar presence at your side. A boy, and a breathtaking one at that. When he had joined you, you’re not sure, but you catch him glancing at your laptop screen every so often. He doesn’t stick out too much, black hair hidden beneath a black baseball cap and similarly monotone attire with a black hoodie that was definitely way too big for him. Yet no amount of nondescript clothing could cover up his impeccable bone structure. This man had a jawline and a nose bridge that were to die for, and although you haven’t made eye contact with the stranger you’re already feeling self-conscious. There’s no way in hell you’re initiating any sort of interaction with him.

But there’s no need to worry, because the stranger does it for you.

You’re on episode three when there’s a gasp from beside you. “Lee Jun-Ki!” You crane your neck to see the stranger leaning over to watch your laptop screen. The work in front of him - whatever that mess of hieroglyphs and symbols was - is completely forgotten as he scoots closer. 

It’s not until you lean a bit away from him that he realizes his actions. “Oh, sorry. I kinda needed a break from studying or else I was gonna lose it.” His ears turn a bright pink as he explains himself. “Is it okay if I watch with you?”

“Uh…” Now that your full attention is on him, you give the stranger a proper glance-over. He was indeed studying, some sort of language of shapes and numbers that was foreign to you sprawled across his notebook in a variety of colors. Other than the all black attire (which was reasonable for college - wasn’t everyone attending their own funeral during exams season?), he didn’t look too shady… “Sure.”

“Sweet.” He extends a hand to you, pulling back the ginormous sleeve that threatens to hang over his fingers. “My name’s Jungwoo.”

You tentatively take his hand. “Y/N.”

“Nice to meet you Y/N. Are you a first year?”

You nod your head, and Jungwoo smiles. “Cool. Me too.” He moves back to his side of the couch, but quickly scoots back to sit directly beside you after he has shoved all of his work into his backpack. He settles beside you on the couch, slouching down similarly to you. “Alright, let’s do this.”

You crack a smile at the boy’s unabashed boldness. He immerses himself in the episode alongside you, clear adoration in his eyes whenever IU makes an appearance on screen. “You like IU, I take it?”

Jungwoo shakes his head. “Not half as much as one of my friends. He idolizes her. I just... look at her very respectfully.”

“Me too, actually,” you confess. “My friend forced me to watch with him. I usually watch happier things. My favorite is Weightlifting Fairy.”

Jungwoo’s eyes go wide. “I love Weightlifting Fairy!” His theatrical gasp attracts the attention of the few students nearby. This newfound information seems to make something click in Jungwoo’s head, because he wiggles all the more closer to you. “You’re quickly becoming my best friend, Y/N.”

“I’m a friend?” 

“Duh. This was established when you didn’t run away from me in fear when I was quite literally looking over your shoulder. And that’s happened before with other people. Twice.” He seems to feel the need to add in the last few details, much to your amusement. “Now shush. Lemme admire IU in peace.”

--

That interaction with Jungwoo is only the first of many, many more. While you’re the type to keep to yourself and not approach others, Jungwoo was the opposite. You’re only a bit surprised when he yells out your name from across the street a few days later, sprinting towards you with unbridled excitement on his face. The last time someone was that happy to see you was when your dog greeted you after returning home for the holidays.

“Good morning, Y/N! Where you headed? I have Material Sciences in an hour. I got time, so I’ll walk with you wherever you’re going!”

Much like your first encounter, you agree with some hesitance. Jungwoo seemed to not have a bad bone in his body, no ill intentions whatsoever. It was refreshing to be in the presence of someone who wasn’t already jaded by the world. 

As promised, Jungwoo walks with you to your destination, the coffeeshop, even waiting with you in the insufferably long line. You find out that Jungwoo is the same age as you, a Mechanical Engineering major, and is a part of some sort of club that allowed him to connect with upperclassmen of different majors but with similar interests.

“It’s called Nu Kappa Tau, everyone there’s really nice! I’ll bring you with me to the next social event.”

“Nu Kappa Tau?” You test out the syllables on your tongue. “Greek? Are you in... a fraternity?”

Your tone of voice insinuates something bad, and the way Jungwoo reacts quickly tells you he has a similar stance on the Greek life in college. That similar stance being that frat boys were vermin. “No, no no no no. It’s Greek, yes, but we are definitely not a fraternity. It’s more like… a social, cultural, and academic club?”

“Jungwoo. That’s exactly what a fraternity would say to make it seem like it’s not a fraternity.”

“Okay, but in this case we’re actually not a fraternity, I promise.” He tugs on your shirt sleeve and looks at you with pleading eyes. “You should come with me to the next event. It’ll be fun, and I’ll prove to you it’s not a fraternity. Please?”

You remain silent, eyes turning to the coffeshop’s menu. Even when your gaze is somewhere else you can sense the way Jungwoo is staring you down with those puppy dog eyes of his. This was what, the second time you were talking to him, and already he wanted to go to a social event with you? “I don’t know. You’re nice and all, but I’m not the type to warm up to people easily. I’ll have to hang out with you more first. No offense.”

Most people cower at your denials, retreat to more comfortable territory where there’s no fear of rejection. Jungwoo, however, beams at you. “None taken, Miss Y/N. You know why?” He pauses for dramatic effect, quirking an eyebrow in mischief. “Because that wasn’t a no.”

A few people in line crane their necks to peer at the two of you as a resonant smack rings out in the coffeeshop. 

“Ow - Y/N - Ow!” Jungwoo rubs at his upper arm. You know you didn’t hit him hard enough to elicit this sort of dramatic reaction, but it’s what he deserves. 

“You can’t use that logic, Jungwoo,” you scold, bag poised in the air ready for another attack. “The only means of consent is a yes. Say it with me. The only means of consent is a-”

“-Yes, yes, okay! I got it, I’m sorry. I sincerely apologize.”

--

Fast forward two weeks later, and you know Jungwoo a bit too well for your liking. Following your rejection of his offer, Jungwoo goes ahead and makes it a point to see you for at least an hour a day, weekends included, in order for you to “warm up to him.” Some days, it’s lunch shared in the cafeteria between classes. Other days it’s hours upon hours of studying together in the back of the library, you and Jungwoo taking shifts napping while the other crams for their classes. 

He forces - “heavily insists” - you to share your location with him on your phones, so it’s of no surprise to you when he starts showing up outside of your lecture halls after class. It’s when he’s walking you back from your last class of the day that you find that he lives a floor above you in the same building. Of course.

Dare you say it, it’s easy having Jungwoo in your life. He walks with you everywhere, always initiates conversation, and eats as many meals as possible with you - or as many as Megan allows. 

“Hey Y/N,” your roommate greets you with a warm smile which quickly turns into a steely glare when he acknowledges the young man standing by your side. “Ahem. Jungwoo.” 

If Jungwoo was a legitimate candidate for your mission of “getting laid,” Megan would be ecstatic. However, you explain to her that Jungwoo is nothing more than a friend, and suddenly Megan thinks he’s out to take her spot as Y/N’s Best Friend (insert trademark emoji here). 

“Megan, always a pleasure,” Jungwoo croons. If he’s perturbed by your roommate’s aloof greeting, he doesn’t show it, a smile growing on his face. Jungwoo turns to you. “See you at nine?”

You nod. “See you at nine. Bye.”

“Bye.” Jungwoo waves then walks down the hallway to the stairs. You wait until he’s out of sight to turn back to Megan, who has one eyebrow raised.

“What’s going on at nine?” She questions.

A defeated grin makes its way onto your lips. As much as you had been dreading what was to come, you couldn’t deny the excitement building up within you at the thought of something… new, for once in your life. “I’m going to my first party.”

--

Jungwoo, as promised, picks you up from your dorm room later that evening. He texts you an ominous message of i’m outside ur dorm lol for you to find him in the driver’s seat of a car far too expensive for any broke college student to own.

Hesitantly, you hop into the passenger seat and gingerly close the door. You’re not sure who he borrowed this from - or maybe it was a rental? - but you wanted to make sure you took no part in any damage fees he’d pay later. “I thought first years couldn’t have cars on campus.”

“I know. I’m a rule breaker, Y/N. I can’t be stopped… And maybe I borrowed it from a friend.”

Jungwoo insists on manning the aux, which you oblige to as you don’t trust your music taste to be liked by others. Something about the artist name Sergio Rachmaninov didn’t always hit well with the young folk these days. The queue starts up as he pulls out of the parking lot, a bass-boosted R&B song filling the expanse of the lush interior. 

“I’m going to warn you, this music queue is all over the place.” All over the place is correct, because after the R&B song finishes a ballad comes on, followed promptly by the song “Good Time” by Owl City. It’s a good song, a tolerable one, but after the second run, and third run, and even a fourth run you can’t help but wonder if the queue is glitching.

“Jungwoo.” He grunts in response. “Did you mean to put this song on loop?”

He shrugs. “What can I say? It helps me focus.”

You’re really questioning the sanity of the man behind the wheel.

Four and a half plays of “Good Time” (or fifteen minutes) later, you and Jungwoo arrive at your destination.

You audibly gulp. “Jungwoo. You are so in a frat.”

“No I’m not!” The man whines. “I swear!”

You and Jungwoo must not be looking at the same house, because the one you’re looking at is nothing less than a mansion: two stories, covering a wide expanse of vivid green lawn, with pillars on either side of the double-door front entry. Windows line the top and bottom floors, and hedges line the cobblestone walkway in the front. It looks like something out of a Southern period drama with the Victorian, colonial style architecture.

“You sure?” You can’t break your gaze away from the three enormous Greek letters placed above the entryway. “‘Cause no normal house emblazons the symbols of their group name across the front like that.”

As soon as you step foot in the door, you regret your decision to come. “Kim, I think I left something in the car-” 

You’re rudely interrupted by Jungwoo swinging an arm over your shoulder a bit too harshly. 

“Relax,” he reassures you. “My friends don’t bite. Only I do that.” You’re given no time to question that statement before he leads you further into the house.

If there’s one thing you can count on with Jungwoo, it’s his ability to socialize. It seems he knows everyone in the house, proven to you by the way he either nods his head or does a handshake with every individual present. He leads you to the kitchen where two guys are conversing, one looking like an overgrown man child and the other looking like… well, an actual child.

“Hey, look who finally decided to show up,” the much taller boy croons. “And he brought a friend.”

“Johnny, this is Y/N. Y/N, Johnny. He’s in his fourth year.” You shake hands with Johnny, who grins at you. He seems nice, other than the fact that he continues to stare at you through the duration of the handshake. Perplexed, you refuse to break his gaze.

Johnny is the first to look away, turning immediately to Jungwoo. “Oh, I like her. No one has yet to win my staring contest this year, other than you, Y/N. Congratulations.”

You force a laugh. “Thanks?”

Jungwoo steers you to the second boy, this one noticeably shorter - or was he still tall? Anyone standing next to Johnny seemed to be dwarfed in his presence - with dyed blond hair. He has a cap over his head and circle glasses, and you can’t help but think he looks awfully young to be at a frat-but-not-really house party.

“And this is Mark. He’s a fellow first year, but he’s our baby.” Jungwoo coos the last word, making Mark huff. Lowering his voice to a stage whisper, Jungwoo explains, “He was born in 1999, so we have a good year on him.”

You click your tongue. Ah, that explains why he looks so young. You deem Mark to be far more approachable than Johnny and shake the young boy’s hand eagerly.

“Where’s Peaches?” Jungwoo asks Johnny. The older boy shrugs. 

“I dunno. Not my problem.”

“Oh, I don’t think Jaehyun’s coming,” Mark cuts in. “Texted me saying something came up. Something about a paper due. Wait. Didn’t you take his car?” He points to Jungwoo, who shrugs with a look of Whoops, sorry on his face.

Johnny groans. “Oh, shoot. That’s right. We have a paper due tomorrow morning.” As quickly as the realization hits him, the worry is gone. “Eh. It’ll be fine.”

The three boys converse a bit longer, exchanging pleasantries and whatnot, before you and Jungwoo make your departure. The most that comes out of your mouth are feeble courtesy laughs and the occasional sarcastic quip to keep Jungwoo’s chaotic energy at bay. You wait until Jungwoo’s led you away to voice your thoughts. “What kind of name is Peaches?” You repeat.

“Right. One of the upperclassmen got the nickname because he smelled like them his first day of recruitment. Apparently he lives near a peach tree orchard or something. Therefore, he’s Peach Boy.”

You make a mental note of the phrase recruitment your friend uses. One day, you’ll compile a long enough list of evidence proving Nu Kappa Tau was a frat, and the word recruitment was one of them. “So what’s your nickname then?”

“Me? I’m not technically initiated yet,” - did this man use the word initiated? Yet another piece of evidence for the fraternity agenda - “but if I had to choose…” Jungwoo pauses and drums his fingers against his chin. “I’m Cheese Boy.”

You pause, letting his name sink in. The laughter bubbles up within you, threatening to spill out in a snort. It instead comes out as a strong exhale through your nose.

“Whatever, Cheese Boy,” you tease. “How much longer until I can go home?”

--

The next time you see the boys of Nu Kappa Tau is when Jungwoo drags you to yet another one of their events but a few days later. “This one’s right up your alley,” he insists. He also bribes you with the promise of buying your lunch, and the kabob food truck was on campus today, meaning you were eating well this afternoon. Making an appearance at his frat was but a small price to pay for your beloved meal of choice.

Jungwoo’s right - this event is up your alley, because you recognize the route he takes across campus. “The library?”

He nods. “NKT Study Hall.”

As you enter the building Jungwoo pulls you down an unfamiliar corridor then up a flight of stairs. An unspoken farewell is bid to your usual study spot by the second floor window as you continue up, up, up, until finally stopping at the fifth floor where no more stairs remain. You didn’t realize the library went up that high, and you probably frequented the building more than all of the boys combined - not that you knew any of the Kappa Tau boys yet.

Though they do look extremely threatening now that you’re standing in front of them.

Jungwoo brings you to stand in front of him. “Men and Mark Lee-” (“Hey!” Mark complains,) “-I introduce to you my partner in crime, Y/N.”

You give a feeble smile to the young men surrounding the table. You recognize a few of them from the party, Johnny and Mark being the only ones you can put a name to. The two wave to you and you feel a little more welcomed. Aside from the duo, everyone else is unfamiliar, giving you emotionless head nods and scowls.

“Y/N, you know Johnny and Mark, over there’s Lucas, and that’s Sicheng.” You nod at the two of them, who seem nice enough. The latter actually gives you a soft smile, so you consider that a win in your book. “And over at that table is Doyoung, Ten… You know what? I’ll just introduce you to everyone later. Have a seat.”

You trust your friend to guide you to the safest open seat, directly across from another empty chair at one end of the long table. Immediately you pull out your biology notebook and pens, hunkering down and getting to work without further notice. If you couldn’t feel welcomed by the boys at the table, you could at least get some decent studying done. You felt far more familiar with the speciation concepts in front of you than the actual human beings next to you. You allow your head to burrow itself closer to your notebook, dwelling in this small comfort in an environment of unfamiliarities.

The moment of peace doesn’t last long.

“Peaches!” Johnny’s bellowing voice makes you jump in your seat, your beloved biology notes neglected.

“Hey. Sorry I’m late.” Huh. You’ve heard that voice before. You can’t place where you know it from, but it causes a sneer to form on your face. Glancing up from your notes you can’t help the strangled gasp that leaves your lips.

It’s him. You’d recognize that faded pink hair and smugly complacent upturn of lips anywhere. That, and he’s holding a coffee cup that violently catapults you back to the incident from a few weeks ago in the coffee shop. You left your perfectly good vanilla latte behind because he made you mad, that jerk.

“Oh, Jaehyun.” Jungwoo leads the man to the open seat across from you. Pointing to you, he says, “This is Peaches - I mean, Jaehyun. Jaehyun, this is-”

“-Y/N, right?” Jaehyun interrupts with a grin. You lower your eyes at the dimple that forms when he smiles. “I believe we’ve met before.”

Jungwoo looks from your displeased state to Jaehyun’s smug smirk. “Uh, okay. Cool. Well then. I’m gonna go ahead and grab lunch, I’ll be right back.” You watch as Jungwoo beckons Johnny and Mark to join him, the only three familiar faces present at the table now leaving.

Jaehyun leans back in his chair, arms moving to rest behind his head. “Looks like it’s just the two of us.”

You weigh your options. You could recognize that the two of you have indeed met before, and try to get past your differences. Or, you could refuse to acknowledge Jaehyun’s presence a mere few feet across from you at the table and try your best to study until Jungwoo returned with your food, at which point you would then flee the scene as fast as your non-athlete self could. Only one of these outcomes enticed you, and it wasn’t the one that involved talking. 

“So, Y/N,” Jaehyun leans forward. The width of the table is enough to keep him at a safe distance from you, yet he’s still close enough to invade your personal space somehow. It’s suffocating, how whatever musky cologne he’s wearing wafts over to you - he smells nothing like peaches. “How’s your day been?”

“Fine.” You keep your eyes glued to your biology notes. Allopatric Speciation occurs when two populations of the same species become isolated from one another due to-

“Aw, just fine? That’s it?” His voice is low. With Jungwoo, Johnny, and Mark out getting food, you’ve been isolated at one end of the table with Jaehyun. Lucas and Sicheng are present as well, but both seem to be deeply immersed in their own studies. It’s just the two of you.

“Yep.” Allopatric Speciation occurs when two populations of the same species-

“C’mon, I’m sure someone like you has had at least one interesting thing happen today.”

Allopatric Speciation occurs when - Someone like you? What was that supposed to mean? You sigh, but refuse to look up from your notes. Allopatric Speciation-

“Are you a first year? I took that class last year. If you ever want notes or something-” Jaehyun jumps a little when you slam the notebook shut. Good. Serves him right.

“I don’t like you, Jaehyun.”

Jaehyun tilts his head, a smirk tugging at the end of his lips. “You don’t even know me.”

“I know enough.”

He leans in by resting his forearms on the table, leveling his gaze with yours. “I don’t think you do.”

“You know what I think? I think you’re distracting me.”

Jungwoo comes back at the most opportune time, wielding a kabob skewer in each hand - one untouched and the other halfway eaten. “One chicken kabob for Y/N.”

Deeming the conversation with Jaehyun at its end, you stand up from your seat and grab your backpack from the table. Jaehyun fixes you with an intense gaze but remains silent. Whether he was sizing you up or not you didn’t care.

The tension is palpable at the table, and Jungwoo clears his throat. “Did I interrupt something?” 

“No,” you respond quickly. Grabbing your food from Jungwoo, you give him an apologetic smile. “Something came up. I gotta go. Sorry, Kim. See you tomorrow?”

You despise this man. You don’t even know Jaehyun - he is nothing but a familiar stranger - but you despise him. Him and his ethereal appearance. Why were the terrible ones always the ones blessed with above average looks? Why’d he have to open his mouth?

“Wait.” You do not, in fact, wait, but instead continue marching forward. It’s not until the figure stands right in front of you do you stop. It’s Jaehyun. Holding your biology notebook in the air. “Don’t want to leave anything behind. Like last time, right?”

The last few words out of his mouth have your blood boiling and your fists clenching at your sides. That explained the foreign lightness of the bag on your shoulder.

“Oh, right, the vanilla latte.” You fake a cordial laugh. “You mean the time I was so desperate to get away from your insufferable presence that I left behind a perfectly good coffee? The time when you treated that girl as if she wasn’t a human being? That time you couldn’t be a decent enough human being that you were that disrespectful to someone you didn’t even know?” 

Jaehyun stands before you with an astonished smile and a hand frozen in the air. You pluck the notebook out of his grasp and stride away before he has a chance to respond.

“I’ll see you around, Y/N,” Jaehyun calls.

“I’ll see you around my ass,” you mutter under your breath. You’re willing to go out of your way to avoid interactions with Jaehyun, no matter what it takes.

a/n 2: hope you enjoyed part one of this series! it’s been a while since i last posted a fic on here so i apologize for my rusty writing skills. part 2 is projected to be posted in one week from now, but that’s tentative. we’ll see where life takes me and if i have the capacity to post in a week from now. in the meantime: stay safe! 💕

[calm-and-wine]

(I’d be) everything you need

hello beautiful people - here is a little fun story written for the @1dffchallenges​ quarantine challenge.

huge thank you to @booksncoffee​​ for another stunning banner and to @yourpolaroid07 (i have no idea why i can’t tag you) for being the greatest gem and reading over it for me and correcting all my stupid mistakes.

so, here it is, hope it will make you smile because i sure did have a lot of fun writing this. if you like it, please come talk to me

(I’d be) everything you need

(Niall’s texts are in bold, Katie’s are in italics)

 “Mum, I swear I’ll be fine. I’ll place an order and just get some takeaway tonight.” Katie assured, having had this discussion pretty much every time they spoke over the last few days.

 “Bug, you have no idea how long an order is processed right now. It can take up to a week, if not longer. You can’t order all your meals,” her mum reasoned.

 “Well, what do you want me to do?” she huffed irritated. Sure, she knew her mum had the best intentions and was probably worried, but she had just gotten off the flight. It was an especially cold and windy night in England and all she wanted was to get into her bed. Even the perspective of having to spend the next two weeks locked up in her flat, didn’t make her crave home any less.

 “Just call Niall. I’m sure he’d be happy to help.”

Katie rolled her eyes, glad her mother couldn’t see her. She mentioned asking Niall for help before Katie even left the country. But she did not want to contact Niall. Her and Niall weren’t exactly friends. Sure, they’ve known each other for years, but Niall Horan was Josh’s friend, not hers. Did she have a crush on her older brother’s best friend? Well, that was a whole other story and not the point at all.

 She hadn’t even seen Niall in forever. The last time they were both back home was over a year ago. And now she was just supposed to call him up and ask for help? Katie did not like asking for help, having to rely on others, owe any favours. Especially from people who weren’t her family. Or family-like.

 “Okay, mum, I’m getting into the cab. Have a good night, yeah?” she said, partly because she did indeed hail a taxi, but mostly because she didn’t want to go in circles in this conversation, they’ve been over it already. Sure, Katie didn’t really have anyone close enough to rely on at times like these, she had a few colleagues, but those were mates to go to a pub with once a month or have a small chat in the break room, not burden them with groceries, because of the mandatory quarantine upon her return.

 Her mum sighed, knowing she couldn’t make her daughter do anything. “You too, sweetie. Keep in touch, please. Let me know if anything is wrong,” she said, the worry evident in her voice.

 “Of course, love you,” Katie replied, her irritation dissolving slightly. There wasn’t a doubt in her head that her mum’s heart was in the right place, but she hated when people worried about her like that, some part of her always felt guilty for making them feel that way.

  1st day of quarantine

 “Hello?” Katie answered her ringing phone, curious about who it might be. It was usual for her to get unknown calls on her work phone, but not her private one.

 “Kitty Kat!” She didn’t even have to ask to know who was on the other side of the line, not only the booming happy voice was familiar, but there was only one person who called her that. And even though she spent years telling him that the nickname was awful, after not hearing it for so long, it made her smile.

 “Hello Niall,” she said, setting her laptop down on the coffee table and focusing on the call.

 “Heard you need some help. I did hesitate to accept though, because I was quite hurt it was Josh calling me and not you.” He sounded exactly how she remembered, his voice laced with a joking undertone, his usual easygoing attitude seeping through.

 “I… I’m fine, really.” Katie was gonna kill her brother. Maybe he wanted to help, but he made her look incompetent to take care of herself, which she did not appreciate.

 “Oh, so you’re not stuck at home for the next two weeks with an empty fridge?” She didn’t even have to see Niall to know he just raised a brow in mock surprise. She could just tell from his tone. But she did wonder what he looked like now. Whether his hair was still natural brown instead of the blonde he used to dye it. Whether his shoulders were even wider than the last time she had seen him. Whether he still had a very small belly from all the beer he had been drinking or maybe he had abs now.

 “Umm.. No, I have some leftover takeaway from last night,” she assured, just slightly embarrassed.

 He sighed. “Look, it’s no problem, I promise. Just text me the list, I have a few hours before work anyway.”

 Katie hesitated for a moment, but no matter how much she hated admitting it, she really did need help. “Okay, thank you.”

 “Oh and text me your address, too. How does your brother not know where you live?” He sounded surprised, which she understood, considering she had a pretty good relationship with Josh.

 She chuckled. “Because he’s a little prick who hasn’t visited me yet. And surprisingly enough, he never orders me any gifts.”

 Niall snickered. “He’s twice your height, I think that’s barely ‘little’. And he’s older.”

 “Heeeey, he’s not that much taller than me!” She whined offended, even though he was.

 He let out a laugh, a true belly laugh, one she hadn’t heard in years actually. But she’d know that laugh anytime anywhere, he just had one of those special ones. “Sure, sure. And he’s not even that tall either, you’re just tiny.”

 “No, I’m not!” She disagreed, although she definitely didn’t count to the tall part of the population. But she was not that short.

 “That’s okay, you’re cute.” His words made Katie blush. She was sure he thought nothing of them, the words slipping easily off his tongue, like he didn’t even have to think about them. “Oh and don’t do that thing when you’ll try and buy everything for the next two weeks, I really don’t mind doing a few more grocery runs for you. Wouldn’t want you to get sick from unfresh foods.”

 She licked her lips to keep from smiling, because of how thoughtful he was. “Thank you.”

 “Okay, I’m hanging up then, it’s good to talk to you again, Kitty Kat.” The whole conversation made her heart beat a teeny tiny bit faster, the warmth of hearing a familiar voice and Niall being so nice, flowing through her entire body.

 “You too, Niall. And thank you, I’ll send the list in a minute.”

 So she did, trying to keep it as basic as possible, only the actual necessary products. Her intercom rang a mere hour later. She buzzed Niall in and waited behind closed doors, having to restrain herself from observing him through the peephole. He knocked on her door softly to let her know he was leaving the bags. She waited a few seconds, giving him time to leave safely, after all the whole point of this was avoiding interactions with other people. She brought the bags inside and pretty much sprinted to the window, hoping he hadn’t left yet. She was lucky enough to have a window going out onto the entrance of the building.

 It was a few seconds before Niall appeared outside. Katie didn’t have a clear view of him, especially not his face, but she noticed his hair was darker, long gone was the blonde he used to dye it into. He seemed taller, though that was pretty unlikely. More muscular. He looked grown up. Seeing him like this, after quite some time, she felt a slight flutter in her stomach. It made her excited. And Katie wondered whether he thought about her like that, imagining what she looked like now, whether she changed, what hairstyle was she wearing, whether she gained weight or slimmed down, what kind of makeup did she like now. Was he excited to find out?

 She didn’t like admitting it, but truth be told, she always had a little crush on Niall Horan. And Katie hated it, because it was such a cliche, liking your older brother’s best friend. But she did. Niall was funny and kind. He loved bickering with her, but it wasn’t like her brother’s teasing, it made her feel special. He had a nickname just for her. Kitty Kat came to be because Josh liked calling her Kate, knowing she hated it, it not being her actual name. But Niall’s nickname didn’t make her irritated, no matter how much she pretended it did. It made her warm inside, like she was important enough to be referred to in an individual way.

 But she had to stop thinking those thoughts Niall was helping her because he had a good heart. And because he was a family friend. That was it. He did not have a special place in his heart for her, no matter how much she imagined he maybe did in the past.

 She moved from the window a few minutes after he disappeared and went to unpack the groceries. She was irritated there was no receipt, Niall was supposed to let her know how much she owed him, having refused when she offered to transfer some money beforehand. But there was another piece of paper. A post-it note stuck to the carton of eggs.

 please let me know as soon as you need anything else. i’ll be doing some shopping for myself later in the week, so it’s no problem. happy to help, N xx

 She refused to dwell on the xs. But the note as a whole was very sweet. In fact, Katie may or may not have put it on her fridge.

  5th day of quarantine

 Katie was trying to work through the splitting headache, but it was not going well. The last three days, she felt like the headache and burning eyes were her only constant companions. Other than that, she was feeling okay. No cough, no temperature, nothing. It was just because she was staring at the screen all day (and some nights), working and working, crunching numbers, filling and checking spreadsheets. Her eye actually started twitching yesterday, which wasn’t a good sign. Unfortunately, she ran out of ibuprofen. And magnesium. She was quite desperate, the pain making it near impossible to focus on anything.

 So eventually, she gave in, sending a text to Niall.

 very sorry to be a bother, but could you maybe possibly go to the pharmacy for me?

 She did not expect her phone to start ringing just a second after. Since that first day, Niall hadn’t called her. He checked in on her a few times (almost every day, sometimes just sending her memes or funny things that happened to him, instead of starting the conversation with “are you alright?”), but it was always through texts. But now he was calling her and she was so shocked, it must have been at least a fourth ring when she answered.

 “Hiya, sorry, it’s okay if -” she started.

 He didn’t let her finish though, rushing out his questions, sounding a little bit worried. “What’s wrong? Are you feeling alright?”

 “Yeah, I’m okay, just ran out of ibuprofen,” she explained.

 “Do you have any symptoms?” he asked, not entirely convinced.

 “No, no, it’s not that,” she assured. “Just a splitting headache from too much work and computer time. And also a magnesium deficiency, probably.”

 “Are you sure?” he asked again, but this time his voice was much calmer, almost back to normal.

 “Yes, I’ve been drinking a shit ton of coffee everyday to even attempt to keep up with my work and I’m just a bit wiped out.”

 “Okay, I can’t really go out right now, I’m at work, but -”

 This time Katie was the one who cut him off. “Oh, it’s fine, really.”

 “BUT,” he continued despite the interruption, his voice a bit more stern, “I just texted my roommate, so it shouldn’t take too long.”

 If only he could see her now, he would notice a look of horror that crossed her face. “No, Niall, I don’t want to bother anyone.”

 “Oh stop, he’s a nice guy and he can leave his work for half an hour. He owed me a favour anyway.” Niall made it seem like the most trivial thing and she really did need the medicine, so she gave up fighting.

 “Well, be sure to thank him for me,” she said instead. “Buy him a nice beer.”

 He chuckled. “Okay, I will. But you’re really okay? You’d tell me if you were getting sick, right?”

 “Well, it’s not like you could come take care of me anyway.” She meant it as a joke, expecting Niall to let out another of his signature chuckles, but he did quite the opposite, sounding a bit exasperated.

 “Why not?”

 “I can’t exactly see people at the moment, remember?” She said gently, not really sure about his mood.

 Niall huffed. “Do you really think I’d care about that? Just let you be alone if you were sick?”

 She swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. All she wanted to ask was ‘why wouldn’t you’, but she bit her lip, too afraid, not wanting to make things weird just because she probably thought a bit too much about his words.

 Katie took a breath before speaking, trying to sound lighthearted. “Well, it’s good I’m not sick, so you don’t have to risk your own health.”

 “You’d let me know though, right?” He persisted.

 “Yeah, I would.” She wanted to add another joke saying she’d need someone to get her medicine, but the mood was not light and funny, the atmosphere suddenly very thick.

 “Alright, good.” It seemed like he finally exhaled after getting his answer. “Well, I have to go back to work, I’ll text you when Pete brings the meds.”

 “Okay. Thank you,” was all Katie could muster out through her fighting thoughts.

 ~~

 how’s the headache?

 completely gone, thanks to your brilliant roommate

 heeeey i’m the one who sent him on that quest!

 hahahaha

 i know

 thank you, again

 damn, i never thought i’d be saying so many thank yous to niall horan

 can’t say i’m complaining

 but on a more serious note, do you like pop quizzes?

 hmmm yeah? i think i only did pub quiz like once or twice, but it was fun

 why?

 me and a few mates are doing one tomorrow, you should join

 how bad is your memory? i can’t go to the pub

 who’s talking about a pub?

 we’re doing it on zoom

 oh

 it’s still staring at the screen, but it’s not work and it seems like you need some fun

 yeah, i guess i kinda do. thank you, but i don’t want to impose

 you won’t, i just invited you

 still…

 it’s just a few mates, i promise it’s all good. i actually already told them you’re joining

and they hate being blown off

 oh yeah, no pressure

 haha no but seriously, if you don’t want to that’s fine, but i think you’ll enjoy it

 okay. thank you. you’ll send me the details?

 of course

 should i prepare anything?

 nope, just yourself. and your brilliant mind

 we’re switching, someone else preparing questions everytime, so you have to wait your turn

 The mention of her becoming a part of their regular quiz made her stomach flutter slightly. She dared having this little hope of actually becoming friends with Niall, or rather maintaining some form of contact, but this was still unexpected. But also very nice to know he kind of wanted that too.

  6th day of quarantine

 When Katie’s phone started ringing and she noticed her brother’s face lighting up the screen, she smiled. The last time they had spoken was when she called to give him a piece of mind for calling Niall for her, but she actually loved and appreciated her brother very much. Maybe they weren’t the absolute closest, but they had a good relationship. There was this knowledge deep down that they’d jump through fire for the other, if need be.

 “Hiya,” she answered, wrapping up the email she was writing (she might or might not be getting some work done on a Saturday).

 “Why is Niall calling me asking about your favourite alcohol?” Josh asked right away, no hello needed. He sounded very curious, loving to pry into her life a bit.

 Katie laughed, having received a text from Niall informing her of a package waiting outside her door, which turned out to be three bottles of wine and a note saying quizzes are no fun without booze.

 “What can I say, he takes good care of my needs,” she replied, half-jokingly.

 “I told him it’s whiskey,” her brother informed, very much knowing she did not like whiskey. The only drink she was able to swallow was whiskey sour, but it was definitely not her favourite.

 “Wow, thanks for that, Jojo,” she said, her words dripping with sarcasm.

 He whined at the nickname he hated, but had to endure since they were kids.

 “He did call bullshit though and asked about wine. So I told him red, naturally.” Just by his tone, she could say he had a shit-eating grin on his face, very proud of himself.

 Katie furrowed her brows. All three bottles that were sitting in her fridge currently were white. Either Niall knew her brother well enough to catch the lies, which he probably did after years of friendship, or he somehow knew her.

 “You’re a dick,” she laughed.

 “That’s what older brothers are for, Kate. But in a serious matter, I hope you’re not getting too buddy-buddy, I couldn’t stand you two ganging up on me.”

 She bit her lip, deciding it was probably best to not mention her plans for tonight. It wasn’t a big deal anyway, Niall was just a nice guy, who was probably feeling sorry for her, because she had no friends here and was sitting alone for days, spending most of her time working.

 “Oh we’re gonna be best friends in no time, you should be very scared.”

 ~~

 Katie was nervous. In fact, she was nervous about a number of things. First of all, the quiz with Niall’s friends. She didn’t know any of those people and she was scared of making a fool of herself. Secondly, she was about to skype with Niall. He offered to have a little chat before the quiz, so he could introduce the group a little, explain who’s who and all that. But it was going to be the first time she’d truly see him and he, her. Well, through the screen of course, but still.

 And now she was worrying she might have gone a little overboard with her look. It was nice to have a reason to dress up in something fancier than leggings and an oversized sweater, to even put some makeup on. But, because it was the first time Niall will see her in quite a bit (especially up close), she made an actual effort. (But she didn’t care about that, she was not wondering whether he’ll even pay attention to her looks, not at all).

 When the music she was playing suddenly cut off, replaced with the ringtone of an incoming skype call, her throat instantly dried up. She took a sip of her wine before answering, her laptop screen taken over by Niall’s smiling face, literally brightening it up.

 He was wearing a button down, it wasn’t necessarily an elegant one, but still a nice one, his hair looked styled, like he actually took the time to tame it. It seemed like he made sure to look good, like he cared. And it excited her because maybe, just maybe, he wanted to look good for her too. Or maybe he liked someone from his friend group and was dressing up for them.

 “I see you’re putting the wine to good use. Did I pick a good one?” he asked, taking a sip of his beer, a proud grin on his face.

 Katie smiled, her nerves slightly easing. No matter how much he might have changed and grown, he was still familiar.

 “Yes, thank you. Although I am a bit worried what kind of idea you have of me based on the amount of bottles you got me,” she joked, taking another sip.

 He let out a booming laugh, one that made something in her flutter. “Nah, there’s just never enough wine,” he shrugged. “Although personally I'm more of a beer guy. But you have over a week more of quarantine, you may need it.”

 “I heard you sought some guidance from my brother,” she inquired with a raised brow, sly grin taking over her features.

 Niall grunted, covering his face in embarrassment. To her, it was incredibly cute that he went to so much trouble just to get her something she liked. “Did he really sell me out? What an asshole.”

 “Yup,” she replied, actually proud of her brother for telling her. “But, surprisingly enough, you didn’t buy red wine. Nor whiskey, thankfully.”

 “Yeah, I figured he was lying, I remember how much you both loved teasing each other,” he chuckled just at the memory of many fights and banters. “Apparently, still can’t let the opportunity pass.”

 “Oh, never,” she laughed along with him. “Okay, talk to me about your friends. What should I expect?”

 “Wait, before we get to that, why do you actually need to quarantine? Were you on some crazy vacations?” he asked the question that’s been on his mind ever since his roommate asked him about it.

 “Oh. Well, not really, I was visiting Frankie, that’s my best friend from uni. She lives in Brussels now. I was thinking of cancelling, but we spent most of the time just staying in or being really careful, you know, not taking any unnecessary risks, so I guess the worst part was the flight.” She shrugged, constantly wishing her two best friends weren’t scattered around the world.

 “I see,” he nodded in understanding. “Had a good time, then?”

 “Oh yeah, very! Haven’t seen her in forever. Really needed that as well. I, um…,” she tucked her hair behind her ear timidly, looking down for a second. “I don’t have many friends here, really. As you might have noticed,” she chuckled nervously.

 “Finding it hard to meet people?” he asked with furrowed brows, but didn’t even wait for a response, another question coming to his mind. “Actually, how long have you lived here? I think the last I’d heard, you were in Chicago?”

 “Seattle,” she corrected. “Yeah, I left like 7 months ago. I got offered a transfer here and a little promotion, I guess, a chance to prove myself, which was an amazing opportunity. I had to go to San Francisco for 4 weeks of training, before coming here though.” She explained, hoping he wouldn’t dig deeper on the subject, because it was not a conversation she wanted to have with him right now.

 “That sounds amazing, congrats,” he said simply and she exhaled in relief.

 “Thanks,” she chuckled. “But yeah, so I’ve been here a while, but haven’t really made friends yet.”

 “I guess working from home is not really helpful, huh?” he observed.

 “No, it definitely isn’t.”

 “Well, I’m always around if you want to hang out. Or go out once this whole pandemic calms down,” he proposed and she smiled appreciatively. “Okay, let’s give you some dirt on my mates, then.”

 ~~

 The quiz was actually very fun. Katie hadn’t laughed that much in a bit, it would be a very long time if she hadn’t counted her time in Belgium. She met six of Niall’s friends, two of them were friends from work, plus a girlfriend of one of them, one was a friend from his little soccer team and the last two were friends from uni, who were also a couple. Everyone was incredibly nice, making sure she felt welcomed and included, going as far as explaining most of their inside jokes.

 They had this tradition of one question dedicated to each person taking part, so they gave Katie a minute to come up with her own question about herself, since they didn’t know her well enough. She panicked a bit, her mind going blank, so she went with what came to her mind first, which was who she went to prom with, the answers being her ex that she broke up with a week before, her best friend or alone. Surprisingly, no one got it right, not even Niall.

 “Did you really go to prom with your ex?” he asked, when they talked right after the quiz. It just so happened that they ended up being the only two left on the call, everyone else disconnecting as soon as they were finished.

 “Yup,” she laughed, filling up her wine glass. They were both pretty tipsy already, on their path to drunk. “But we were friendly! You know, we were just going to different unis and stuff, it just wasn’t that serious. And everyone else was already taken!”

 “Well, you could have always asked me,” he said, shrugging nonchalantly.

 “Are you kidding? You used to tease me about it whenever I saw you my senior year!”

 He did, whenever he came home from uni (which was a lot during his first year) and saw her, always asking whether she had a hot date yet.

 “Yeah, ‘cause I wanted to take you!” Niall exclaimed.

 “What? Now that’s just lies,” she chuckled incredulously.

“Absolutely not, I had a little crush on you.”  Niall’s eyes were focused on his fingers picking at the beer bottle label.

 “No, you didn’t,” she shook her head, although her mind went straight back to the question about him in the quiz - who was his first crush. The answer choices were his teacher, his friend’s mum or his friend’s sister. As soon as it was asked, he whined, a blush flushing his cheeks. But when it was announced that the correct answer was his friend’s sister, she was pretty sure his eyes were trained on her, like he wanted to see her reaction. As much as a rational part of her brain didn’t want to misinterpret the whole situation and get false hope, she did wonder if there was a possibility that it might have been her.

 “Excuse me, I think I know my feelings better, thank you very much,” he said, pretending to be offended. “I just hid it well. Maybe too well.” Niall added the last part as an afterthought, quietly, but not enough for her to miss it.

 Maybe it was the wine, or maybe just Niall’s (virtual) presence that had her feeling brave, like he made her giddily nervous, but also brought a sense of safety and calm. Whatever it was, she was feeling brave enough to say, “funny, I had a crush on you, too. What a cliche, huh?”

 He scrunched his brows in confusion. “How so?”

 She shrugged, little half-smile on her face. “Liking your brother’s best friend.”

 “More cliche than liking your best friend’s little sister?” He inquired, before taking a gulp of beer.

 She laughed, her mind a bit too fuzzy to comprehend that they just admitted to liking each other. Once upon a time, at least. “I guess we’re just a pair of walking cliches.” Katie quirked as she hid  her timid smile behind her wine glass.

  10th day of quarantine

 Katie was fucked, there was no other way to put it. She was usually so good with planning and thinking ahead, always trying to be prepared, but at the most unfortunate time, it slipped her mind. She forgot her period was coming, or rather she forgot she was running out of tampons. And now she was stuck in her apartment, pondering if the possible fee for violating the quarantine is worth saving her from the massive embarrassment. Even though she was actually too responsible to go out now.

 If Niall was a good friend, she wouldn’t have that much of a problem asking him for it. She would have no problem asking him if he was a woman. And she would definitely have less of a problem, if she didn’t like him.

 But, no matter what, she had a problem and he was pretty much the only person she could count on to help her right now. So she swallowed her pride, pulled all of her courage and rang Niall, because she felt like, no matter how embarrassing, the situation required a proper call, not a text.

 He answered on the second ring. “Hey, everything good? You’re not dying, are ya?” His words were joking, but his voice had a serious undertone, he even sounded a little worried.

 “A bit,” she chuckled nervously, “but not because of the obvious. You’re not going to the shop today by any chance?”

 “What do you need?” he asked, instead of answering her question.

 “Well, this will be awkward, but…” Katie started, but hesitated for a second, biting her lip.

 “Hit me,” he encouraged.

 “I got my period and I forgot I have like one tampon left.” Even though she obviously couldn’t see him, she closed her eyes, like her shame burned them, spitting out the words as fast as possible.

 “Oh,” he let out a little sound of surprise, clearing his throat right after to mask it. “Alright, just send me which ones you want and I’ll get them.”

 “I hate being a burden.”

 “Stop it, you’re not a burden,” he reassured right away. “I was actually going to the shop anyway, need a few things. Just text me, so I don’t forget and add whatever else you want, yeah?”

 Niall’s words made her smile, she wasn’t sure if he really was going shopping, or just said it to make her feel better, but she just appreciated his reaction, not making a big deal out of it, just accepting her ask and thinking nothing more of it. She knew a lot of guys who would be so lost hearing that kind of request, but Niall was nothing if not alright. And that was just another great quality of his that she needed to add to the list in her mind that was growing scarily quick.

 “Okay, thank you. You’re saving my life, kinda.”

 “Mmm, I’m sure we’ll figure out a way for you to pay me back, no worries,” he laughed, before ending the call.

 An hour later, Katie got the text to pick up the bag from her door. There was no sign of Niall, as usual, but there was a bag with not only the tampons she asked for, but also with two different types of pads, a bag of chips, frozen pizza, some fresh fruits, four different chocolate bars and cookies n cream ice cream. There was also another note inside.

 thought some of those might help make you feel better, N xx

 And there he was with the xs again. It was probably just the way he signed everything. Either way, the care package was incredibly thoughtful, so Katie picked up her phone to text him.

 was not expecting a package like that. that’s a lot of stuff. but thank you, that’s very sweet

 just wasn’t sure what you like. El always ate pretty much sweets only, while Lil loved stuffing herself with salty snacks and fast foods

 Elaine and Liliana were his older sisters, Lil was married and with a child on the way, five years older than Niall, while Elaine was just two years older than him. Maybe that was the reason why he had no problem helping her today, having grown up with sisters always made guys act a bit different, or at least that’s what her mum always said.

 wasn’t sure about the ice cream flavour though, so played it a bit safe

 cookies and creams is a good one

 what’s your favourite?

 pistachio

 okay, noted

 Katie couldn’t explain why, but even little comments like that made her heart beat just a tiny bit faster. It wasn’t just because he was attentive to details, but it was like he wanted to know more about her, to soak every piece of information in. And then there were comments like that, the kind that made her think about the future, not just the immediate one right after her quarantine, but the actual future. Will they just stay friendly? Become best friends? Or will one of them be brave enough to make the first step into more? Katie didn’t know if there was more in the cards. When it came to her, it wasn’t just that stupid crush from her youth that came back. The feelings grew and were constantly growing, as she got to know more and more of Niall. But she didn’t know how he was feeling. Maybe there were signs, but she was never that great at reading them. Time will tell if one of them will pluck the courage to take that leap of faith, or if she just misread the situations. A part of her was very anxious about it, but another part was excited. And all of her was hopeful.

  12th day of quarantine

 “Catch me up on your life. I feel like the last time I really knew what was happening with you was high school,” Niall inquired, folding his hands to rest his chin on top. He looked adorable like this.

 It was a Friday night and they were skyping. Just the two of them, having drinks over video call. As it turns out, they do their pop quiz every other week and so he asked her if she wanted to hang out with him to survive her last days of solitude.

 “Oh, you think you knew what was going on in my life back then?” Katie chuckled, a sly grin on her face.

 “Well, I was in your house like every other day,” he reasoned.

 “Please, even I didn’t know what was happening in my life at that time.” She joked, because, if she was being honest, high school was a mess.

 He laughed. “Yeah, okay, point taken. But still, how was uni for you? How did you end up at the company you’re working for now?”

 “Uni was fun. Stressful, most of the time, but I have some good memories. And the company was just a fluke,” she shrugged, taking a sip of her wine, the last bottle of the three Niall bought her last week.

 “Was it hard leaving Seattle behind?” he asked.

 “Um..” she got embarrassed, nibbling on her bottom lip, clearly thinking over her answer. “Yes and no, I guess. I mean… I had a boyfriend,” she admitted, going into the story she didn’t like retelling, but actually didn’t mind that much right now. Not only because she trusted Niall, but because she was over that whole situation, even if it still brought up some unpleasant memories. “We had been together for about two years. And he didn’t want to move here with me. Like, didn’t even consider it. Just outright told me to reject the offer, basically. And most of our friends took his side. I guess they were mostly his friends to begin with, but it still stung. So yeah, it was hard, but there also really wasn’t much left for me there.” When she finished, she shrugged again, hoping to look quite unbothered, as it really was just a thing of the past. Katie took another sip of wine, while Niall looked at her with a look that she couldn’t decipher. But thankfully, it wasn’t pitiful.

 “Okay, first, I’m sorry,” he said after a second. “But second, that was such a dick move. I mean, it was a huge opportunity for you and he expected you to just give it up? Like an ultimatum? Not even ‘we can work it out’ or something?” He sounded genuinely surprised, even a little disgusted, which made Katie smile slightly, his reaction making her feel better.

 “It was more like ‘if you’re even considering taking it, then fuck you’, so yeah, pretty much,” she said, her words feeling much lighter than before.

 “Wow,” Niall chuckled humorlessly. “He really did not know how lucky he was to have you.”

 “Stoooop,” she said, her face growing hot.

 “No, I’m serious. I’d say good riddance to him.”

 “I kinda see it now too, to be honest,” she admitted, a faint smile on her lips. “It did make me realise how he didn’t really love me. Noticed a bunch of not great behaviours, actually. So hey, it’s all for the better.”

 “Oh for sure.”

 “What about you? Any tragic love story?” Katie asked, reaching for her glass.

 “Umm…” he took a big gulp of his beer, while she raised her brow, indicating it was her time to grill him. “Kinda the opposite of your story, actually,” Niall admitted.

 “You’re joking,” she gasped, her eyes growing wider.

 “Nope,” he shook his head, a half-smile on his lips. “I followed my girlfriend here. She got a great job, so I came with. It wasn’t far anyway, but yeah, she was the reason. I did say no to a proper job opportunity myself for that, actually. And then she dumped me four months later. Taking most of our mutual friends with her as well.”

 Katie was pretty much speechless. She did hear he had a girlfriend, they moved in together here, but she hadn’t heard when it ended and definitely not how. “Wow,” a shaky laugh escaped her lips. “Bad breakup?” she asked after a second.

 Niall licked his lips. “Not the worst, I mean, there wasn’t any cheating or anything, although she did get another boyfriend like two weeks later. But it did suck. We got a flat together and everything. I get that you can fall out of love with someone or whatever, but I did rearrange my life for her, so you know, if she was having doubts back then…” He let his voice linger. It’s been a while since he thought about her, even the last time they accidentally crossed paths a few months ago, he hadn’t really felt anything anymore.

 “She should have said it,” Katie finished his thought and he nodded.

 “Yeah. It felt a little out of the blue. But it’s been over a year now, so I’ve dealt with that. It was the most exciting story about my life, though. Other than that it’s just work, footie, pub quizzes and booze,” he chuckled, taking another gulp of his beer, as to prove his point.

 “A boring life is the best kind, though,” she noticed. “I think it’s so underrated. I’d take stability over drama anyday.”

 “Yes! Thank you!” Niall got excited, scooting a little closer and even pointing a finger at her through the screen. “That’s what I think too.”

 “Great minds think alike,” she laughed, moving her finger between them two.

 It was probably the most personal conversation she had ever had with Niall. And it felt good. Maybe not exactly because their stories were good, but because she felt like there was a certain level of understanding. He was such an easy person to talk to, no matter the subject. And this conversation, hearing his story, made her appreciate him even more, especially his character. Being willing to sacrifice himself for love was a big thing. She just hoped that he still had it in him, that the past didn’t make him close his heart off, but by his honesty and vulnerability, she didn’t think that was the case. And that really did make her happy.

 They were quiet for a moment, at first just kind of looking at each other with soft eyes, feeling somehow connected, even through a computer screen. But then Katie furrowed her brows before crossing her eyes, which made Niall also pull a face, before they both burst out laughing.

 “Well, I didn’t know the friends who took her side, but the ones you have now are pretty great,” she said, closing the subject. “Thanks for inviting me to the quiz last week, it was a lot of fun.”

 “Thank you for joining us. And you know you’re already invited to the next one.”

 Katie smiled, looking down for a second. When she raised her eyes again, Niall was giving her a weird look, like he couldn’t figure her out.

 “What?” she asked.

 He shrugged. “You say thank you too much.”

 She chuckled, “well, I was raised right.”

 “Yeah, but you don’t have to say it for everything. We’re actually just hoping you won’t blow us off when your quarantine is over,” he said.

 “You? Never,” she said, her words making matching grins appear on both their faces.

  1 day after quarantine

 To be honest, Katie didn’t know what she was doing. It was the first day of her freedom and she invited Niall for dinner. She was making a dish that was his favourite when they were younger, her mum used to always tell Josh to invite Niall around, when she was cooking it. She wanted to do something nice for him, to repay him for all the help. Another reason might have been the fact that she really wanted to see him. As nice as texting and skype was, she wanted to be face to face with him, hear his voice clearly, not slightly distorted by her laptop speakers. Maybe even touch him.

 To say she was nervous would be an understatement. She went crazy yesterday, cleaning the entire flat, then ironing half of her clothes, because she couldn’t decide on one outfit she might want to wear. She eventually settled on a casual black skirt, with a slightly sheer, emerald blouse. Her hair was pinned up a bit messily, while she still hadn’t decided if she’s gonna keep it that way or let it loose, or maybe tie it up… She put some makeup on, but didn’t want to overdo it. It was just a casual dinner with a childhood friend, after all.

 Just seconds after she turned off the stove, her doorbell rang. It was like the sound went to her heart instead of her ears, making it beat just a little bit faster, excited about the person waiting outside.

 Katie pulled off her apron quickly and went to welcome her guest, finally.

 “Hiya,” Niall said as soon as she pulled the door open. He squeezed in next to her, handing her a bottle of wine and taking off his jacket. “Oh my god, do I smell chilli?” he asked, turning to face her as soon as he hung it up.

 Katie smiled, just seeing him made her happy, but his words and the excited glint in his eyes made her even happier. “Yeah. I got my mum’s recipe, so hopefully it’ll be at least half as good as hers,” she shrugged innocently, trying to check him out as discreetly as possible.

 He looked good, the screen did him no justice and he looked good even then. In the flesh he looked more buff, definitely spent his lockdown working out. His hair looked softer and more fluffy and there was a slight stubble on his face. The simple t-shirt he was wearing clung beautifully to his bicep.

 “That recipe is like your family’s best kept secret,” he said, eyes wide.

 She laughed. “It’s really not, my mum just didn’t want yours to have it, because she loved you coming over and praising her.”

 “Oh and you’re hoping for that same praise, aren’t you?” Niall asked, with a raised brow.

 She chuckled again, shrugging her shoulder like she didn’t even know what he was talking about. And then he took a step closer and wrapped her in a hug.

 “It’s good to finally see you properly. You look beautiful,” he said so close to her ear, she could feel his breath on her neck, raising goosebumps on its way.

 It only took her a second to settle into the hug, her arms around his waist, her face nuzzled into his neck, breathing in the mixture of freshly washed clothes and his cologne. The thing was, Niall was an amazing hugger. She knew it before, but now that he was slightly bigger, he was even better. And he smelt amazing. Katie had to force herself to pull away before it became an awkwardly long embrace.

 “You look good as well, it’s nice to actually hang out.”

 “Thanks for inviting me.”

 “Thanks for all the help. Come on, I just turned the stove off, so we should eat while it’s hot.”

 She gestured for him to go first into the kitchen, creating herself an opportunity to unashamedly look at his ass, which looked pretty good in his dark grey trousers.

 Katie had been stressing all day if they’d have something to talk about. They had skyped twice and texted throughout most days, they were about to run out of topics to discuss at some point, right?

 Well, apparently not anytime soon. They spent the whole meal talking between bites, Niall pretty much moaning at the first taste of chilli, which made Katie laugh unattractively, covering her mouth in an attempt to keep the food from spilling out. But the conversation just flowed so naturally between them. They actually sat at the table, in front of empty plates for almost an hour, just chatting, before they ran out of wine which eventually prompted them to move. They cleared the plates, opened another bottle of wine, this time the white one Niall had brought, and moved to the sofa.

 “Can I ask you something?” Niall asked, waiting a second after they settled, while she was quickly responding to a text from her mum.

 “Sure,” she said, putting her phone down and twisting her body towards him, one leg bent on the couch.

 He looked down for a second, then licked his lips, before meeting her eyes again carefully. “Is this a date?”

 “Well…” She bit her lip. “It was meant as a thank you, but I guess…” She hesitated for a second, but then saw a small flash of light in his eyes, which gave her that little bit of courage she needed. “It could be. If you want it to be.”

 “See, that’s a tricky question,” he said with a grin, which made Katie raise her brows in question. “Because yes, I would very much like to be dating you, but it’s also weird not being the one organising the date, especially the first one. I just showed up, while you planned the whole thing.”

 She laughed, her heart feeling instantly lighter, looking at him with admiration. “You can always take a lead with the second one.”

 “Deal.”

 He brushed the hair that escaped her updo out of her face, putting it behind her ear. Katie was pretty sure he was about to kiss her, but she didn’t want to wait a second longer, his earlier words giving her enough courage to lean in and be the one to initiate the kiss.

 He tasted like wine and chilli, probably exactly the same way she did, but somehow the kiss was sweet, their mouths finding their rhythm easily, almost like they were meant to work together.

 When they parted, she let out a soft laugh. One of disbelief. And happiness. She just kissed Niall. And now she had a bunch of butterflies fluttering in her stomach.

 “What are you laughing about? Was it that terrible?” he asked, his voice a little bit panicked.

 “No, god no, it was great,” Katie rushed to assure him, in case he couldn’t tell her emotions by the huge grin on her face. “It’s just… Unexpected. I really did not think we would end up like this.”

 “How so?” His arm was holding her hip, as if he was making sure she didn’t pull away.

 “I mean… Well, did you ever think we’d be here?” she asked him, not really sure how to explain her thoughts.

 “Um… Not really, no. I used to think we’d date at some point, but when we had both gone to uni that hope kinda died,” he admitted.

 “Really?”

 “Yeah. Why are ya so surprised?” He chuckled at her reaction.

 “I mean…” Katie hesitated for a moment, reaching for his hand to play with the ring on his finger. “Yeah, we apparently had a crush on each other back in the day. And we’ve known each other forever, but we also didn’t know each other that well, not really.”

 “Yeah,” Niall sighed in understanding, “it’s this weird feeling of knowing someone for years while also just truly learning about them now. But it’s not necessarily bad though, is it?”

 “Not at all, I like learning more about you. Getting closer to you.” She gave him a gentle smile, which he returned right away,

 “That feeling is very mutual.”

 “Life just works in a weird way, doesn’t it? We’ve been living pretty close to each other for months without even realising. And we haven’t spoken for over a year, but now it just…”

 “Something clicked,” he shrugged, flicking her palm to trace mindless patterns on the back of it.

 “Yeah, it did.”

 “Maybe it was meant to be.” His words were so light, but at the same time, they held so much conviction, they made Katie’s heart soar.

 “I guess we’ll have to wait and see, huh?” she asked cheekily. “I think it all depends on what you’ll prepare for that second date.”

 He chuckled. “Oh wow, well, that chilli is gonna be hard to beat. But I feel like all the shopping I’ve done for you should count for something, you know, like a little advance.”

 “Oh great, we haven’t even started dating properly and you’re already slacking. Nice one, Horan.”

 Her words made him let out a booming laugh, his head thrown back. And all she could do was look at him and admire the beautiful man beside her, thanking the universe for giving them a chance to find each other.

 ~~

 “Do you have a morning shift tomorrow?” Katie asked, when another episode had ended. They talked some more, then kissed some more, before eventually settling down to watch some tv, enjoying the quiet moments of just holding each other, having more than enough words between them that night.

 Even the small fact of him choosing a tv show to start watching together instead of a movie made her do a little mental note in her head. Because it was one more thing indicating that he wanted to do this again. If she even had any doubts still.

 “Mmmm, no,” he says, rubbing at his eye sleepily. “I’m starting at two in the afternoon.”

 Katie learned he had 3 possible work shifts when he texted her at midnight that he’s at the shop and they’ve run out of the cereal she wanted. He was an IT support specialist, which she found very interesting, although she didn’t understand a lot of his explanation when she asked him about his job.

 “Do you wanna stay the night?” she asked. When he looked at her surprised, a flush appeared on her cheeks. “Just to watch another episode and go to sleep, I didn’t mean… like..”

 “No, yeah, of course, I wouldn’t want to…” he rushed to say.

 “Oh, you wouldn’t?” She looked at him with an arched brow, playful smile on her face. “So you’re not into me?”

 “What? Shit, no, of course I am, come on, you should know that.” He raised his brows and both their minds went back to a moment when they were kissing earlier (well, some people would probably call it making out) and she felt his hardening dick on her tight.

 She bit her lip to sustain a smile, because it was nice to feel that way, to feel wanted, but also for the other person to be open about it, not afraid to admit his feelings towards her. It’s been a while since she felt like that. Sexy, free, confident. A bit vulnerable, but safe.

 “Yeah, I guess I do,” she said with a wicked smile, planting a kiss on his lips.

 It was crazy how comfortable she felt with him. She didn’t hesitate to cuddle up to his body, didn’t think about going in for a kiss, even despite it being just hours since their first one. With Niall, there were just no doubts, not anymore.

 “So sleep or one more episode?” he asked, his arm tucking her closer to him.

 “Are you gonna fall asleep halfway through?”

 “Nope, I’m pretty awake now, your proposal made me come alive again,” he chuckled, tickling her side, which made her yelp in surprise.

 So they watched two more episodes before eventually getting ready to sleep. Katie took pride in being a good host, providing Niall with fresh towels and a toothbrush, before he even got the chance to ask. She also made him take the bathroom first, so she could put the blanket covering her bed and all the extra pillows away. She did a quick scroll through her socials, deliberately avoiding a text from Frankie, asking how the night had gone. She could wait until tomorrow, when Katie would call her for a proper gossip.

 “Do you mind if I sleep in just my boxers?” Niall asked, walking out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped securely around his waist, his glistening chest on full display. He had definitely been working out. “I can wear a shirt too, if you want me to.”

 Katie shook her head. “Whatever you’re comfortable with, I’m good with whatever,” she said, passing him with a smile to take her turn getting ready to sleep.

 She tried to be as quick as possible, removing her makeup and brushing teeth. When she emerged, Niall was tucked in bed, on the left side, which was exactly the one that had always been empty, since she slept on the right.

 Her pajamas were simple, consisting of cotton shorts and a simple t-shirt. After all, they still had time for something sexier, you shouldn’t play all your cards right away.

 “First date and you already got me into bed,” he said watching her climb under the sheets. “Damn, woman, you’re good.”

 There was a huge grin on his face, which made it impossible for her not to mirror his expression.

 “You took my side,” she said, fluffing her pillow before lying down. The bedside lamp was the only source of light in the room, which bathed them both in the golden glow. Niall couldn’t tear his eyes away from her, she looked stunning.

 “Oh shit, sorry, it actually looked less slept on,” he started explaining, making a move to get up. “We can switch.”

 Katie laughed, putting a hand on his shoulder to stop him. “I’m just messing with you, you got it right.”

 “Uhhh I hate you,” he whined, burrowing his head in the pillow. For a second he wished he really was on the wrong side, because then the pillow would smell of Katie and not fabric softener.

 “Oh but you don’t. I’m pretty sure you said you liked me, actually,” she chuckled, loving the joking atmosphere that felt so natural between them.

 “You’re lucky I have a soft spot for you,” he turned his head to look at her again. She moved closer, resting her head on the edge of his pillow, before moving after a second to plant a kiss on his lips.

 It was impossible to not feel how his lips stretched into a smile during the kiss. It seemed like they spent the whole night just smiling and kissing. But neither of them were complaining.

 With Niall it was all so easy. Sure, at times she might be a bit nervous, especially right before seeing him or talking to him, but once she felt his presence, most of it went away. She felt free. He had seen her do so much stupid shit over the years, she just knew he wouldn’t judge or be put off. It was just that level of comfort and familiarity, that was what he brought her. And she didn’t understand how, but at the same time he made her feel giddy and excited. It was like he calmed her and made her heart beat faster at the same time. It was against her logic, but she decided not to question it. Because there was no question to her that it was a good thing. She liked that feeling. She craved that feeling.

 It was crazy how unexpectedly things could happen. Two weeks ago she didn’t even want to call him, not wanting to bother him, any relationship between them vanished over more than a year ago. And now she wanted to keep in contact with him as much as possible. She wanted to talk to him everyday. Somehow, over such a short time, he became a constant part of her day, whether it was sharing memes, random thoughts or having actual deep conversations. She never even thought she’d be here, falling for someone so fast. Least of all, falling for Josh’s best friend. But that was a funny thing about life and love, it crept up on you when you least expected it. And sometimes, it did so in simply the best way.

 The pandemic was a horrific thing that affected countless people’s lives, but in a surprising twist of events, it gave Katie a light in such a dark time. And that light went by the name of none other than Niall Horan.

[thegrungyprincess]

Rambling and a Little Life Update

Good Evening All! If you’re reading this, I hope that you’ve had a wonderful day -or if it’s morning, that your day will be wonderful! :)

I haven’t been active in a little bit (mostly due to my last job literally sucking the life out of me every day I went in), but now that I am no longer working there I’d like to get back into some of my old hobbies. One of which -luckily for the maybe two people who read this, is running this blog! 

I have, with my whole heart and soul, missed writing. It has always been a means of escape for me. I don’t know how I let myself stray from it for so long, especially with the current start the world has been in. 

I have though seen how I have been trying to replace it... Truthfully, I’m only realizing this now as I writ this post, but since I have not been able to escape into a fantasy world, I’ve been trying to escape right in the real one. 

In case you’re not sure what I mean by that; a few months ago I started looking at houses online. It started by me simply being curious about a neighbourhood not too far from my home, with beautiful houses I’ve always wanted to look at. Since it wasn’t looking like I was going to make it there in person, I decided to see if any of the houses were listed for sale. And from that point on, looking at houses became a nightly ritual. It’s not a bad habit to pick up, I will say that. I have a good idea of what type of house I want to buy, what my must haves are, and most importantly; the price range I’m looking at. The other thing I’ve been looking at is areas I would like to buy in. This is why I say I’m trying to escape in the real world. 

I am by no means a city girl so, the areas I’ve been looking at are rural or woodsy. Out of the city and almost out of the suburbs (I may want to escape, but I don’t want to be driving half an hour plus just to buy groceries). I can’t be the only person who would rather live a peaceful and quiet life. Humanity has gotten even more shitty and a lot of the time I just don’t want to be a part of it anymore. Though I’ll settle with living life at a distance, doing things that make me happy. Unfortunately, even that is difficult to do with the cost of living going up and wage rates staying the same. 

So, in the meantime I figured out the other way I could escape for a little while; take a vacation. If I wasn’t looking at house listings, you’d probably catching searching flight and resort prices. one of the locations I was seriously considering was Bali. It’s absolutely beautiful there, a lot of the nature is preserved, and a jungle getaway felt like just want I needed. 

In the end, along with returning to my efforts of escaping into fantasy, I have also decided to getaway for a bit, just not a full escape. My family comes from Guyana -a country located on the northern-east coast of South America, and I’ve decided to go and visit. The though of I still seems strange to me. I started steadily working over 3 years ago and for all of that time there hasn’t been a moment where I wasn’t working or in quarantine. So, to take some time off between jobs and getaway seems crazy to me. And I think that’s the biggest reason why I need it. These past couple years have been rough, on the whole world. And now that in most places, things are starting to go back to normal, we feel like our lives need to as well. Back to work because we need to get back to work. The truth is though, that some of us may need time to adjust still, recover, process. 

Quarantine was NOT a vacation. I was time off from, just about everything. Not being able to leave the house at all does something to humans mentally, we’re social creatures after all. So we shouldn’t feel bad if this is still affecting us, it’s not over. and even if it was, it would be perfectly fine to need to take a break. So for the rest of this month, I’m going to focus on doing the things I love and getting ready for my trip. 

And then next month... It’s all sunshine, mangoes and a hammock! <3 (I will do my best to provide updates!)

[sorryimanon]

A Bit Stir Crazy: Pt 1

Summary: You’re bit of a hot head, so is Bakugou. So what happens when the two of you have to quarantine together for 30 days?

Warnings: cursing, mentions of sex, sexual tension, inevitable smut, slow burn.

Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x fem!Reader

Spring finally makes it way to the city of Musutafu, which also means spring break is about to commence. There was only two days left of school before the students endure a week break of relaxation and the possibility of illegal drinking. However, the sudden outbreak of a deadly virus isolates you and your best friend of five years , Katsuki Bakugou, to quarantine together. Tensions are high, and so are both of your sex drive.

<<<

It was your second semester here at Hero University, and so far everything was smooth sailing. You’ve been on top of each of your classes, and most of your classmates are pretty much family by now. Of course, no one can replace Kirishima and Katsuki. Those two have been in your life since the second you stepped into Aziwa’s classroom. 5 years of friendship gave them the role of being your protective brothers. Every guy you’ve dated over the past 3 years had to face the wrath of both Kirishima and Katsuki. In most cases, some would find this possessiveness tedious, but you found it quite comforting knowing they are looking out for you. They were also hard on you and your studies, but only because they care for you. Both of them know about your dream of being a combat medic for pro-heroes, considering your energy restoration quirk, so they were extra tough on you.

However, everything came to a halt the day before spring break. You were currently in Advanced Hero History class when the announcement happened. The teacher, mid lecture, put her textbook down and glanced at the speaker above the door.

“Testing...1 2 3... this thing is working right? AHEM, attention students of Hero University, we’ve been told there’s recently been a sudden outbreak of a virus that’s described as deadly as the plaque!” The speakers voice reverberated across the whole academy. He continued,” We want to make sure that everyone is safe and sound and takes precaution of this virus. The board of admissions at HU have decided to cancel classes and all events at the university tomorrow-”

You didn’t get to hear the rest of the announcement. Everyone in the classroom was busy celebrating and screaming at the top of their lungs. Seems like the issue with the deadly virus evaporated immediately. The thought of getting out early for spring break was more important apparently.

Ms.Leech informed the class to still read the assigned chapters and be ready for a test the first day after break.

You quickly shoved everything your messenger bag and made a beeline to the door. The hallways were far from deserted. Usually classes don’t get out at the same time, but today every student occupied the cramped halls in the building.

“Y/N!” Someone yelled amidst the crowd of loud students. You overtly looked around and spotted the all too familiar spiky red hair and angry looking blonde by the exit. You giggled and maneuvered your way over to them.

“Did you hear the announcement! We get an early spring break!” Kirishima giddily said as you guys all walked side by side on the strip to the apartment complex.

“No shit Sherlock, the announcement was broadcasted across the whole school.” Bakugou responded while rolling his eyes.

“I’m so excited though! That means I have more time to study for my exams!” You jumped with excitement.

“Exams? That’s not for awhile you fucking nerd-” Bakugou was cut off when you grabbed a handful of his hair and aggressively pulled it. “YOU SHITTY WOMAN DON’T TOUCH MY HAIR!”

-

Spring break flashed by quickly, leaving only a day left before classes begin again. Thankfully, you seem to have checked everything off your list of things  needed to be accomplished during break. The only thing you had left to do was finish your reading for adv.hero history. 

After an endless hour of reading, you decided to make a hot pot of coffee. When you walked into the kitchen of your shared apartment with Kirishima and Katsuki, you noticed a sticky note hanging from the fridge.

It read, 

Went to go pick up Kirishima from the airport. Get take out plz. The usual

-B.

You smiled and immediately dialed the noodle shop to go. Kirishima used his spring break wisely and went to visit an exotic island with his family. He would FaceTime you and Bakugo occasionally telling funny stories about his time on the island. Although the thought never occurred at the time, you now felt like you wasted your spring break doing boring mundane things. Yes you had Katsuki to accompany you, but he was gone most of the time hanging out with his other friends. Which hurt, granted, but you understand that he has other friends besides you. Needless to say, you didn’t do that much “relaxation” during spring break.

Suddenly, your phone started going off on the countertop. Katsuki’s name flashing on the screen. Confused, you answered his call anyway, not thinking much of it.

“Y/N turn on the news now,” His said with urgency.

You didn’t argue back, knowing something is off, and raced to the living room. The tv was already on, so you just changed the channels till it reached the local news station. With the volume at its maximum, you sat still and listened to the news anchor.

“This just in, Japan has issued a nationwide lockdown due to the spread of the deadly virus. We’ve been told to report for all citizens to please stay in your homes till further notice. And as for anyone who has left the country, you’ll be permitted to stay within the country you’ve flown to and wait till further instructions...”

Oh shit

-

“Hey hey guys don’t worry I’ll be fine. I mean, isn’t this great news! We don’t have to go to our scheduled classes till further notice! Plus, I think I can score my shot with the maid here at my hotel for the time being,” Kirishima gloated with pure positivity.

“Baka. You do realize there’s a fucking virus going around right? Not to mention there’s a possibility you could die from it.” Bakugou said, trying to throw some common sense at Kiri.

“Right right right. Yes I do know...but that’s not going to stop me from getting laid bro.”

That was one of the few FaceTime calls you got from Kiri. After the third, he stopped calling all together. You grew worrisome for your best friend. Even though he doesn’t show it, Bakugou was worried sick not hearing from Kiri either.

It’s been 5 days since the initial lockdown. So far, you and Bakugou have been doing each of your usual routines at home. First thing in the morning you always prepared breakfast and read a few chapters from your current book. Bakugo did laundry duty and did the dishes after breakfast. Afternoon was just recreational duties. Both you and Bakugou would reside in your rooms doing whatever to ease off the bordem. Evenings were mainly for eating dinner and watching movies.

However, after 10 days, you couldn’t keep up with the routine anymore. You skipped breakfast and didn’t dare to open up another book. Your bedroom became a reminder on how much you’ve spent cooped up in there. Not to mention how easily angered you’ve become.

One day you got angry at how Bakugou was chewing his food. Usually it never irritated you, but now the sight just made your blood boil.

“Who the fuck taught you how to eat?” You spat abruptly.

“Says the person who forgets to clean the tub after they shave their whole entire jungle of a body,” he retored back.

A faint gasp left your mouth, uaware that you completely forgot to clean the tub last night after your feminine duties.

“Don’t know who you’re trying to look presentable for. It’s not like you got a boyfriend, not with all that hair, tch.” he hit you with one last punch to the gut.

You got up from where you were sitting at and begrudgingly walked to your bedroom, locking it in the process. Not daring to leave your room, you open your laptop and started a movie without Bakugou.

-

Out of all days, day 15 by far was the worst. The air conditioner unit stopped working, causing y’all to wake up with drenched bodies. Your room especially was humid, since you had no access to a window. The colored coordinated folders from your book bag had to suffice, using them as makeshift fans. Eventually your arms grew tired of constantly doing the same motion repeatedly, so you finally left your room in hopes for the living room to be much cooler.

You stopped immediately when you caught a glimpse of Bakugou slumped on the L-shaped couch. Not to mention, he was shirtless as well. Heat flushed to your cheeks, making you glow a crimson red. You couldn’t stop staring at the view in front of you. Yes you’ve seen Bakugou shirtless before. Countless of times in fact. The boys would practically walk naked around the apartment, not caring about how you’d react. You were deemed as one of the guys.

But this time it triggered something within you. Something you haven’t quite felt in a long time. Maybe it was the quarantine getting to your head, but you couldn’t help but to wonder how it would feel to be flushed against his naked chest right now. Or if he was the type to snake his hands around your waist and pull you even closer. The thought excited you for a second, but quickly realized this was Katsuki you were thinking about.

Katsuki shifted uncomfortably in his spot, eliciting a whimper during the process. The noise alone made your lower stomach tense with a warm sensation. This was creepy. Watching Bakugou shirtless while sleeping would surly make him go ballistic, but the sight of sweat glistening on his abdomen made his abs more prominent. An image of you being underneath him kept flashing in your head like picture show. A crude and undeniably satisfying picture show. More explicit thoughts kept trying to barge into your brain. So, you ran back into your room and planted yourself headfirst on the floor. Hopefully these thoughts will go away by tomorrow

The thoughts never went away. In fact, they were the reason you didn’t get any sleep last night. A half naked Bakugou Katsuki kept interrupting your innocent dreams, filling them in with dirty scenarios involving the both of you. You knew you were fucked once you heard the faint sound of Katsukis footsteps in the kitchen. You’ve been up all night, with no pure dream in mind. There’s no saving your sleep schedule now. Maybe if you apologize to Katsuki for acting irrational the other day, the thoughts would go away.

Defeated, you got up from your comfortable bed and treaded into unsafe territory. There sat Bakugo, criss cross on the kitchen island eating cereal. It wasn’t an unusual sight, he was the embodiment of a fucking cat.

“Morning shit head,” you playfully teased.

Bakugou raised his head and looked expectingly at you.

Even just looking him dead in the eye raised the temperature throughout your body. This is going to be a nightmare.

“You alright Y/N? Your whole face is flushed...” He paused, eyeing you suspiciously. “You’re not sick are you? If so, I’m kicking you out. I don’t wanna fucking die because of you”.

How charming.

You scratched the back of your neck. “Uh no Katsuki, I just wanted to apologize for the other day. My behavior towards you was unacceptable. This whole quarantine thing has really made me-”

“Shut up. No need to apologize for some stupid quarrel we got into. Besides, we’ve gotten into worse arguments right?” 

You nodded your head, agreeing to how truthful his statement was. It was true. 5 years of friendship and not one time have you guys stopped being friends because of a heated argument. 

“Exactly, don’t sweat about it. I’m just glad you finally came out of your hole. I missed my movie buddy.” He gave you a lopsided grin, to which on cue, your stomach tied itself into a knot.

“Great, because I found a movie last night on my queue that I think you’d like” You beamed as you started making yourself a bowl cereal. Katsuki grunted as a response and leaped off from the island. 

You were too busy focusing on making the cereal that you didn’t hear the faint thump of footsteps behind you. Then, almost as some sort of harsh punishment, Katsuki rested his head between your right shoulder blade. He hummed once he felt your body tense up. His lips were merely inches away from your outer ear. Any other movement from him and you wouldn’t hesitate to throw the gallon of milk at his head. But what he said next caused your whole face to turn pallid. 

“Also, its kind of rude to watch someone sleeping don't cha think?” he whispered before throwing his bowl into the sink beside you. 

At that moment you knew, you were completely fucked. 

[junghosunshine]

Shut In

pairing: Kim Taehyung X reader

word count: 4k+

summary: Without a place to stay after you are kicked out of your dorm amidst the Coronavirus outbreak, you have no choice but to stay with Kim Taehyung (the son of one of your moms friends whom you have never met). You worry that it will be awkward but you are pleasantly surprised by the bond you end up forming with the overly welcoming man.

warnings: Smut, Fluff, overprotective, slightly dom!tae, mentions of covid19 and quarantine, age gap (5 years), unprotected sex (please use protection guys) 

notes: This was written to calm me down while being stuck in my house in no way am I trying to offend anyone. Please go easy on me i’m sensitive :)

_______________________________________________________________________

You should probably be thankful that you have somewhere to stay during quarantine but at this particular moment you were dreading the next few weeks.

“Mom, why can’t I just stay in a hotel?” You asked over the phone. You knew you were being irrational and that this was much better than paying a hundred dollars a night (even if you would feel much more comfortable). Ever since your classes had been canceled, you had been living in the dorms at your college but they had begun to kick students out. Going to school overseas seemed like such a fun idea, and it probably would have been, but because you were in another country during the corona virus outbreak, there was no way you could get home especially with the travel restrictions. You had called your mom sobbing, worried that you would be homeless through the pandemic in a country you barely knew. Luckily, within an hour your mom had reached out to one of her friends who had a son living in Seoul and you suddenly had a place to stay. “Mom, that is going to be so weird. I don’t know him and now I’m going to live with him. Alone. For who knows how long?!”

“Y/N, I’m not paying money for you to stay in a hotel when there is a perfectly good, free place for you to stay. This is the only option.”

You gave in knowing your arguments were useless against this woman. You just wanted to go home and see your family and to be honest you were scared at how big this whole thing had become.

“Okay. Stay safe mom. Love you.”

“I love you too sweetie. Be careful and make sure you thank Taehyung for giving up his space.”

After you hung up with your mom you felt a bit empty. This much change in only a few days was a lot to take in and processing it all was near impossible. ‘Its going to be okay’ you told yourself.Your had mom told you that Taehyung was 24 and she had seen him a few times when he had just been born but didn’t know much about him other than that he apparently worked as a graphic designer for a popular art company. She had gone to college with his mom and they had been very close until mom moved to the US after college. Regardless of your mom’s connection, it felt awkward to be moving into some complete stranger’s space.

——————————————————————————————————————————

Pulling up the email your mom had sent you, you found the address to Taehyung’s house and his phone number. Sighing, you forced yourself to send him a text to let him know you were coming to his place.

To: XXX-XXX-XXXX

iMessage: Hi, this is Y/N… my mom just sent me your address. I should be there in about an hour. Thanks for letting me stay with you.

You put your phone back in your pocket and gathered you bags. Struggling to stand upright you wobbled out of your dorm and made your way to the subway.

Thanks to the virus the subway was not crowded and you had a place to rest all of your stuff. Once you sat down your phone vibrated and you pulled it out to see a response from Taehyung.

iMessage: Y/N, it is my pleasure! My mom told me to treat you well since you are her best friend’s daughter. Ill see you soon!

He was sweet. You felt yourself relax a bit. Maybe it wouldn’t be as awkward as you had thought it would be. You certainly hoped you were right otherwise this was going to be the most uncomfortable period of time you have ever experienced.

Once you were off the subway you lugged your bags up to the street level. Looking around your confidence wavered a bit. You had only been living in Korea for the last few months for college and while you went out a lot but you rarely ventured outside of the college area. The fact that there was no one outside made it even harder because you couldn’t ask anyone for directions. Oh no, there was no way you were going to find his building. You typed the address into Maps and attempted to both hold all of your stuff and navigate.

You were having very little luck and you were afraid your phone was going to die if you continued like this. As you stopped to calm yourself down, your phone rang.

“Hello?”

“Y/N?”

“Oh hi, is this Taehyung?”

“Yeah, Im just calling to make sure you’re okay. You said you’d be here in an hour two hours ago and my mom would kill me if anything happened to you.”

“Oh… Uh…” As much as you didn’t want to cry you couldn’t help yourself. It had been a long few days and the fact that you couldn’t even navigate was infuriating. “Im a little lost.” You managed to say through tears.

“Are there any restaurants or stores near you?” He asked. Looking around you found you were next to a pet store.

“There is pet store near me and I’m right across from a park.”

You heard shuffling from his end of the line. “Okay,” He said finally. “Wait there I’m coming to get you.”

——————————————————————————————————————————

Exhausted, you sank to the ground and rested your head on your knees. It was embarrassing that Taehyung had to go out of his way to find you before you had even met him. He probably thought you were incompetent. And it was even worse that there was an outbreak going on.

Only a few minutes had passed when a black Hyundai pulled up next to you. A guy got out and walked toward you.

“Y/N?” You looked up at him as he came to a stop above you. You nodded and embarrassed yourself by pouting a little. Something you did at home when you were sad or angry. You noticed immediately how striking he was with dark hair that fell into his eyes. He was distractingly handsome and as you stood up, you noticed, very tall as well. Taehyung smiled warmly and reached for your bags. “Go sit in the car, i'll load these in the back.” You complied grateful that he didn’t seem upset with you. He loaded your bags into the trunk and returned to the drivers seat.

“Im Tae by the way.” You took his extended hand.

“I am so sorry for inconveniencing you like this especially now. I promise i’ll make it up to you. I’m not usually this helpless.” Taehyung chuckled. “No problem. I’m glad I had an excuse to go out one last time before the lockdown.” You blushed at his kindness and were relieved when he began to drive.

Taehyung’s apartment was very clean and well decorated. You could immediately tell he was into art as his walls were covered in it. It was an open concept and the living room was only separated from the kitchen by a large kitchen island. He led you across the flat to a door on the far side, opening it to a small bedroom. It looked as if it had never been used and it smelled very clean. There was a large window overlooking the city and you gasped at how pretty it was.

“I’m glad I finally have someone here to use the guest bedroom. It was getting kinda lonely here.” It was shocking how welcoming he was considering you were dumped on him at the last possible moment.

“Thank you so much.” You walked in and he helped place your bags on the bed before leaving you to unpack.

That night, He made you dinner. It was so odd since it had been months since you’d eaten like a normal human. College life was certainly not luxurious. He waited for you to take the first bite and hum with pleasure before he was satisfied enough to eat.

“So, you were attending college here.”  He said. You nodded. “Yeah I’m in my second year at Yonsei. Er- was.”

“This virus is kinda fucking things up isn’t it?”

“Yeah, Im kinda pissed off that I can’t even see my family during it.” Taehyung nodded. “Well I’m lucky that you are keeping me company right now.” You coughed and he watched amusedly as you tried to cover up your awkwardness by taking a sip of water.

“How old are you?” He asked you. “Nineteen.” You replied. He smiled a secret smile before taking another bite of his food.

“Thank you so much for dinner.” You said when you had both finished. He shrugged like it was nothing. “Im happy to do it.”

You tried to help him with dishes but he insisted that you get some rest after your long day.

——————————————————————————————————————————

Usually you woke up around seven the morning so that you could get started on the day but with nothing to do, it seemed a bit unnecessary. Still, your internal clock was hard to reset so despite your empty schedule, you were up. You assumed that Taehyung was probably asleep so you made your way into the kitchen and put on some hot water for tea. This was a ritual of yours. That you had been taught by your mother.

Unconsciously you began humming and you didn’t notice that Taehyung had exited his bedroom or that he was standing shirtless at the kitchen island smiling as he watched you work. You looked cute with your little shorts and oversized t-shirt he was going to have a hard time not thinking about that all day. Turning, you let out a yelp when you saw him, spilling hot tea on your had and causing the mug to break on the ground.

Taehyung immediately rushed over to you and grabbed your wrist before you could pick up any of the pieces of ceramic. “Are you hurt?” The way he looked at you with so much concern made your cheeks flush.

“No, I’m fine, I just got a little surprised.” He chuckled and continued to hold your wrist “Sorry, I didn’t want to disturb you, you looked like you were meditating.”

You tried to pick up the pieces again but he stoped you. “I’ll get it, let’s treat your burn first.” He led you to the bathroom and sat you. on the edge of the tub. Rummaging through the medicine cabinet he found some gauze. You cringed a bit. “Taehyung, it’s not that serious, it’s just a little red that’s all.” Taehyung shook his head. “Better to be safe than sorry. Give me your hand.” You were a bit too happy to have him hold your hand as he ran it under cold water. He was so careful and the way he touched you made you want him to never stop. He dried your hand before wrapping it with gauze, clearly pleased with his work. “There!” He smiled. “Good as new.”

“Thank you.” You laughed and the two of you locked eyes. With him looking at you, you suddenly became hyper aware of his bare chest. He wasn’t super buff but he was lean and toned. He looked very strong and it was hard to look away but you made yourself.

For the next few days, you continued to get up early and make tea, careful not to drop it again.

It was getting really fucking hard for Taehyung to not look at you. It seemed like the only thing you owned were little shorts and huge ass t-shirts. Every time he saw you he wanted to push you against a wall and destroy you. Taehyung had take showers very frequently because of you.

——————————————————————————————————————————

Quarantine was not the most fun and besides meal time, you and Taehyung had not interacted very much. He was very sweet and funny but you were too shy to ask him to hang out.

He must have been going stir crazy too because eventually there was a knock on your door.

“Come in.” You said. Taehyung slowly opened the door. He was wearing sweats and a dark blue sweatshirt. It was annoying that he looked good in even the lumpiest clothes.

“Hey, Im really fucking bored out here can you come watch a movie with me.”

“Sure.” You followed him out to the living room “What movie?” “Im not sure.” He said sitting down. “What do you like to watch?”

You shrugged, to be honest you. Weren’t really a movie person. You. Spent a lot of time listening to music and reading but movies weren’t something you did too often. Being away from your family was making you a bit nostalgic and you recalled movies you watched with them.

“When I was little I really liked Howls Moving Castle.” Taehyung raised an eyebrow at you. “Out of every movie you want to watch a cartoon?” He asked.

“What?!” You giggled. “Howl was like my dream guy when I was younger.” You looked at him as earnestly as you could. “Please can we watch it. I really want to now.” He sighed dramatically but didn’t object.

Once it started you were immediately spellbound. You had forgotten how beautiful Miyazaki movies were. At one point without thinking you said “Howl kind of reminds me of you.” Taehyung looked at you but you were too entranced to notice. His eyes roamed the curves of your face and made their way down your neck, to your shoulder which was bare as your huge shirt slipped off of it. He cleared his throat and returned to watching the movie. There was no way he would let himself think about you. That wasn’t fair to you at all.

Yo had forgotten how sad and intense Miyazaki movies got and you hated when there was conflict in stories. A couple of times you reached out for tae’s arm and he let you. He hated how much he liked the feeling that you needed him there. After your fourth time grabbing onto him, He took your hand and laced his fingers through yours. He watched you register this and look at him. Your eyes were so big and innocent. God, he wanted to ruin you. You smiled at him and continued to watch the rest of the movie. He stopped himself from doing anything stupid. He couldn’t help but be a little disappointed when the film was over and you released his hand. “Thanks for watching with me.” He said. You nodded “Thanks for letting me choose the movie, I forgot how much I loved it.”

There was a silence as he looked at you in the now dark living room. You let him allowing yourself to observe him as well.

“Y/N.” Taehyung’s gaze was filled with a sudden intensity. It scared you a little.

“Yes?” Taehyung pulled you into his arms and buried his head in your hair breathing you in. “I would be so goddamn lonely if you weren’t here.” He said his voice a bit muffled. You were taken aback by his sudden affection that it took you a moment to return it. You gently wrapped your arms around his neck. He smelled so good it was hard for you to think about letting go. Lucky for you Taehyung didn’t. He stayed like that for a long time, so long that you fell asleep and then he fell asleep.

The next morning you woke up still wrapped around each other. He was observing you when you opened your eyes and grinned when he noticed you had woken up.

“Good morning.” You felt a bit awkward that you had ended up in this situation.

“Morning.” You replied avoiding is stare. Taehyung only released you when he was worried you’d be able to feel him. When you finally untangled your limbs from his, he rushed to the shower.

——————————————————————————————————————————

You had started to notice the Tae had become very touchy with you. Not that you were complaining, you loved it. You were definitely starting to develop a crush on him and as much as you hated to admit it you were definitely flirting with him. If you were cooking he would find ways to pass behind you and touch your waist. At the dinner table he began to sit next to you and would knock his knee against yours. He’d even started to put his arm around you when you watched movies which had become a very frequent thing. Regardless of how much you enjoyed his touches you decided not to put too much weight behind it. Tae was like an older brother and in this short time you had been living together, he looked after you. You refused to get his affection confused with attraction.

“Hey, my mom just sent an old picture of her and your mom in college.” Tae called from the living room. You ran out to see jumping on the couch next to him and looking over his shoulder.  You immediately recognize your mom which made you miss her a lot. The woman next to her in the picture looked like she had just stepped off a runway, you could see where Tae had gotten his good looks.

“Wow, She’s beautiful you look so much like her.” You said. He leaned back into your lab and looked up at you grinning. “Y/N, are you calling me beautiful?” You choked on the air. “No! Um, er- you are beautiful, but- I wasn’t..” Tae turned towards you and poked your nose. “You’re so cute.” You felt yourself turn completely red.

“Im not cute.” You mumbled, punching him in the shoulder.

“You are ridiculously cute. It’s almost too much.” You found yourself pouting again and you crossed your arms. Reached up and pulled your face towards him. “See? Thats cute. If you keep doing that I’m not going to be able to stop myself from doing bad things to you.”

You found yourself at a loss for words. Tae rand is thumb over your bottom lip before laughing. Anger overwhelmed you. “You’re an asshole!” You shoved him away from you. He continued to laugh “Oh yeah? Am I?” He tickled your side and you shrieked jumping off the couch and running away from him. He chased you around the apartment and when he caught up to you he threw you over his shoulder. “Tae!” You giggled. He threw you onto the couch and plopped down next to you. “Don’t deny who you are.”

“Shut up.”

———————���——————————————————————————————————

Tae picked the movie tonight. It was the notebook and apparently he was a huge fan of Rachel McAdams. You didn’t blame him, she was very pretty but you did feel weirdly jealous. You noticed he didn’t put his arm around you like he normally did which kinda disappointed you. You wondered if he was mad at you which made it hard for you relax. You sat with your arms wrapped around your legs. In your head you started to go through everything you had done during the day that could have upset him but you weren’t finding anything he had seemed happy all day which is why it was weird that he wasn’t acting like he usually did. You were about to start crying until you felt him touching your thigh. He looked like he didn’t know he was doing it as he continued to watch the movie.You couldn’t focus at all, his touches felt so good and you closed your eyes accidentally sighing with pleasure. You felt his hand travel closer to the line of your shorts until they ghosted over your core. Taken aback you looked at tae, worried that he was unaware of what he was doing but he was looking right at you now, his eyes full of something dark and wild. He pulled you closer to him and applied more pressure which made you moan more and you leaned your head against his chest. His other hand caressed your head. “You are so pretty.” He mumbled. “You have no idea how much I want to ruin you.” As he rubbed harder you could feel yourself building up to something you bit your lip and felt your hips roll against his hand. “Do you like that?” Taehyung asked

“Mhmn.” Was the most you could say. “Do you want to come?” You nodded but tae wasn’t satisfied. “I asked if you want to come.” He said.

“Yes! I want to come!” You shouted and almost instantly you felt yourself reach the edge. He continued to move his hand against you as you shook. “Oh my god.”You exhaled. Once you came down from your high you couldn’t bare to look at him and kept your head buried in his shirt. He kissed your hair and then your forehead, your eyes cheeks, nose, before making his way to your lips. It was soft and too brief you almost felt like it hadn’t happened. But he didn’t offer anything more. He got off the couch and walked to the bathroom. You heard him start the shower and you fell asleep before he opened the door again.

——————————————————————————————————————————

It had been three days since whatever happened between you two had happened. You weren’t sure what to call it just as much as you weren’t sure what it meant. You were so confused and too afraid to ask him. Tae seemed just as goofy as he always was which was a relief though he didn’t touch you as much. In fact you had tried to hug him earlier and you could swear you saw him flinch. This was infuriating! He was the one who has initiated the whole thing and now he wasn’t even going to acknowledge it. There was no way you were letting him get away with this. If he was going to make you mad then you were going to mess with him.

“Hey Y/N I’m bored come play cards with me.”

You were sitting in your room reading. You smiled to yourself as you ignored his request.

“Y/N?” Again no response. You. Could hear him walking to your room. He stood in the doorway looking at you.

“Y/N, did you hear me?” You put on your most innocent face before looking at him. “No, did you call me?” He scratched his head clearly confused before sighing. “No, never mind.” You stuck your tongue out at him when he walked away.

When he made dinner that night you told him you had already eaten. “When?” He asked. You shrugged, “I had some crackers earlier and I’m full.”  You could tell that he was getting frustrated. But he still didn’t ask you what was going on.

You didn’t watch a movie that night but you hadn’t in three days so it wasn’t that weird. When  He closed his bedroom door you waited an hour before leaving your room and slipping into his. He was definitely asleep when you got under the covers. He wasn’t wearing a shirt and you were pleased when he moved to wrap his arms around you groaning into you.

——————————————————————————————————————————

In the morning he was not in the room and the door was opened. You got up and found him at the island waiting for you. You liked the way he looked in the morning his har disheveled hid voice incredibly deep.

“Y/N.” He spoke. You shivered at the way he said it. He was angry and it was very hot.

“Tae.” You responded. He shook his head at you and you went on pretending to be oblivious.

“Can you make me pancakes?” You asked sweetly. “‘Im, hungry.” You opened one of the cabinets and got a glass for water. Before you could open the fridge Tae moved grabbed you and pushed you against the counter placing a hand on either side of you.

“Y/N, why are you doing this to me?” Although you were a bit shocked you forced yourself to continue the act. “Doing what Tae, I just asked for pancakes.” Then he actually growled, leaning his head onto your shoulder. You felt blood rush to your core you were so turned on. “Goddamn it, Y/N. I keep convincing myself that this is a bad idea but you keep doing things that make me want to teach you a lesson.”

“Then teach me.” You say. He lifted his head from your shoulder and looked into your eyes. The darkness had returned and his eyes seemed heavy as he looked down at your lips. Suddenly he was devouring you. This kiss was nothing like the ghost one from before. This one felt like he was trying to suck all of the life out of you. And it was working. Your knees went weak and you had to hold onto his shoulders to help yourself stay upright. He slipped his tongue into your mouth and you moaned into him. He tasted so good and just as you felt like he was giving himself to you he pulled away. You whined. “Y/N, tell me what you want.” You rolled your eyes and he gripped your face with his hands. “Tell me what you want.”

“I want you.” He kissed you smiling against your mouth. “Where do you want me?”

“Everywhere.” You moved his hands to your breasts and he quickly lifted up your shirt to reveal your breasts.

“Holy fuck I can’t believe you slept next to me like this.” He moved his mouth down your neck before latching onto you nipple and sucking hard.

“Oh my god.” You ran your fingers though his hair. Tae slipped his fingers down to the waistline of your shorts and you let him pull them down along with your underwear. “Such a pretty little cunt.” He said before slapping it making you gasp. He turned you around and licked your folds your eyes rolling back. He began to suck on your clit and you lost it. “Fuck, oh my god! Yes!” Without warning tae pushed you to the ground and stood up you could see the bulge that had formed in his sweats. He placed your hand over it and rolled his head back while you massaged it. Then he pulled down his sweats to reveal a very large very erect cock. You swallowed and looked up at him. ‘Fuck, Y/N you have no idea how pure you look. I can’t wait to fucking ruin you.” Grabbing onto your hair he pushed his dick into your mouth. “Good girl.” He said gently. Tae watched as you tried not to choke on him. “You're doing so good.” He began to buck his hips into you and you gagged on him getting saliva all over his length. When you almost couldn’t take it he pulled out and picked you up placing you on the counter.

“Are you ready for me baby?” He asked and you nodded. He didn’t move. “I need an answer.”

“Yes, Please fuck me.” You beg. And then the pushed into you stretching you out so much you stoped breathing for a second. But as he pulled out you immediately wanted him back inside. Tae grabbed your neck. “I want you to look at me when I’m fucking you.” He pounded into you and when he thrusted at just the right angle your eyes started to water but you kept looking at him. “You feel so fucking good, Y/N. I’ve thought about this so much and you are even tighter than I expected.” The lack of oxygen was heightening your pleasure and you started to feel your orgasm coming on. “Im going to come!” You screamed. He pounded into you harder. “Not yet baby, Not until I say so.” You bit your lip in an effort to hold it back but your vision blurred and there was no stopping it. Tae kept thrusting as you rode it out and as you squeezed around him he reached his climax. He pulled out and his juices poured out of you. He wrapped his arms around you and hugged you for a long time. After some time he picked you up and carried you to the bathroom. He turned on the shower and pulled you inside. As the water ran he took your face in his hards and kissed you softly. He kissed your shoulders and your breasts. He knelt kissing your stomach, thighs, knees and feet. You grabbed his face and pulled him back up into your lips. He felt safe and secure. You let him wash your body and he let you wash his. Finally he stepped out of the shower and dried off before opening the bathroom door.

“Where are you going?” You asked him.

“To make you pancakes.”

[period-dramallama]

Spanish Princess Episode 5: many many thoughts

Strap yo selves in 

-WHERE WAS THE APOLOGY?? Lina’s just back with Catherine like nothing happened?? 

-Katherine, I get why you’re upset, but you kind of should be unsurprised?? Your dad was unfaithful to his wife, most kings were. Henry VII and Richard III were the exceptions, and even they had illegitimate sons before their marriages. Many kings also had official mistresses that everyone knew about, so by the standards of the time Henry and Bessie are actually being pretty tactful in at least trying to keep their affair out of sight. (Sexy dancing aside). 

-Honestly it would have been so much more moving if KoA was like “I know kings take mistresses...but I thought...I was so sure... he would be different...”

-”they gave me a purse of gold!” It’s expected that you give the monarch lavish presents, lmao Ursula and Stafford would do that even if they hated each other and you

-”everybody loves a masque” the only sensible thing Henry has said so far in this show. Also court probably had way more masques than we see in the show, and it would standard to have a masque every holiday. 

-”she is not a boy” hurry up with your character development and learn to love Mary already i am so TIRED of this miserable BS

-seems a rather depopulated masque? If the Chateau Vert pageant is anything to go by putting on a masque was a court activity, with most of the ladies performing.  

-Bessie Blount in her cute masque costume... sweet mother i cannot weave Aphrodite has overcome me with GAAAAAAAAAAAAY

-”I never enjoyed carousing...my mother scolded me” look i love the Neville sisters with my whole heart but a) Margaret was 3 at most when her mother died, how does she remember her? She’d have clearer memories of her double-uncle and double-aunt, Richard III and Queen Anne b) Isabel Neville in the White Queen was established as very prim and proper, a well-bred girl who cared about enforcing decorum, she refused to ‘carouse’ and she certainly would never bring a 3 year old to a party c) we saw little Margaret as a girl at the end of the White Queen and she didn’t seem at all shy. 

-”she died young, didn’t she” ...yes? most people did?

-”they both did” understatement of the year. Isabel Neville died young because she was ill, George died young (in the universe of The White Queen, at least) BECAUSE HE WAS FORCEFULLY DROWNED IN A VAT OF MALMSEY WINE. THESE TWO THINGS ARE NOT THE SAME! I do at least trust the writers of this show that the understatement was intentional, I’m sure even Emma Frost couldn’t forget a major character getting violently drowned.

-So the court only noticed the plague when one of their own got it so obviously and then died? Yes, plague could move fast, but if there was a whiff of plague the court would flee with the speed of the Looney Tunes road runner. If an acquaintance of an acquaintance of a cook had a cousin who saw someone with the plague, the court would flee to the country. How have these people not died of terminal stupid?! Like Compton was in the same building as the heir to the throne

-To be fair, it makes sense that they’re surprised Compton’s dead. Because the real Compton died of the sweating sickness. In 1528. Also he was involved in Buckingham’s downfall so... you just wrote yourself into a corner.

-Oh wow an actual good reason for More and Pole to be quarantined together i am amaaaaaazed

-”attend the queen” Boleyn, what do you think your daughter’s been doing all season if not attending the queen? Playing tetris?

-Katherine helping Anne into the wagon...I actually like that little moment. Like it does make sense, because the two have no reason to hate each other yet. (And who couldn’t like Anne? She’s such a babby!)

-Thomas More in the Tudor equivalent of casual clothes... much better. Shame about the 1930s lady’s wig.

-”what else should we do?” Maggie, this cannot be the first epidemic you’ve ever lived through. Have you forgotten the sweating sickness of 1485? You’ve probably lived through more epidemics than Oviedo has, you should know the protocol better than him.

-Oviedo continues to be the only man with rights. I wish we could see him crying and missing his wife and babies, but then my lil heart would break so maybe it’s for the best.

-They burn Maggie’s weird blue hood AS THEY SHOULD! IT WAS UGLY AND STUPID! I NEVER HAVE TO LOOK AT IT AGAIN NOW! THANK YOU SO MUCH! yes they also burned her nice dress with the strawberries on it but honestly it’s worth it, bc now i can rest easy, knowing the evil hood has been defeated.

-”you were a plaything” Katherine is so obviously insecure. I’m getting second-hand embarrassment. Like if she really was certain Bessie wasn’t important, she wouldn’t need to say it, would she? Except to rub it in. Which this KOA would absolutely do. 

-literally all Bessie said was good morning?? Like Bessie is doing her best?? The masque was Henry’s idea, not hers, she hasn’t shown off about her affair, she hasn’t demanded money or titles, she hasn’t demanded any status to rival Katherine’s, she doesn’t flirt with or even speak to Henry when Katherine’s around, she acts like they’re strangers, she doesn’t even react when Katherine loses her temper...someone please please stick up for Bessie!

-”the rocking of the cart is unsettling to the stomach” is Anne naive, or is she covering for Bessie? I hope it’s the latter, in which case Anne is the one person looking out for Bessie...the babby is Soft, I repeat the babby is Soft!

-the irony of Mary being cold to Bessie when she’s next in the firing line...

-”it is not the rocking” Thank you Lina, where would we be without your gift for stating the obvious?

-”where did Wolsey get his money”...He’s a churchman...at the top of the church hierarchy...how do you fuckin think he got wealthy. Have y’all not been in the sixteenth century for five minutes? Why do you think Luther is so mad at the church?

-”I know of no other man in her bed most nights” Honestly wow I’m surprised KoA wasn’t like “well :/ a girl like that :/ who knows how many men process in and out of her bed :/” KoA gets half a point for being less bitchy than usual. Also Bessie looked so uncomfortable with Henry groping her stomach in front of Katherine. I pray the next man in her life treats her right and that Fraham don’t prematurely kill her off like they did with Compton.  

-”the future king” if you’re regent on his behalf, then he’s already king! “Civilised companionship” back at it again with the Scots-are-barbarians.

-Laura Carmichael is utterly stunning this episode, with her hair down. The cinematography was beautiful in general this week.

-”freedom to speak and licence to speak are two different things” hey look at that one of Thomas More’s actual beliefs. I am giving all the credit to the historical advisor for that, I don’t believe for one second Fraham knew that beforehand.

-Maggie I love you but no, God does not sanction adultery. For any reason. 

-KOA smirking and gloating about Bessie’s pain...she has never been so punchable. I would understand, if not condone it, if Bessie was manipulative, or greedy, or ambitious, or trying to supplant Katherine. But Bessie’s been betrayed by Henry too, and there’s no concrete evidence she ever gloated about her affair, to anyone let alone Katherine.  

-”You think only of your own fate while London is struck down with plague” Earth to Katherine?? What concern have you shown for the Londoners?? Also calling Bessie selfish...Bessie’s not the one who lashed out at Lina, was jealous at Lina for having twin boys, and who wanted to continue a war for personal reasons. And then Bessie proves KoA wrong 5 hot seconds later by sticking up for Mary. Bit rich of KoA to be all “how dare you leave my daughter unattended” when she herself won’t even hold Mary. 

-”Louis didn’t last a year” What! Is! The Timeline!

-Meg in that cloak reminds me of the Scottish Widow adverts. Georgie is so greedy- she steals every single scene she is in! Even when she’s raging she has more dignity and more presence than KoA ever has.

-”YOU LYING SOD” i burst out laughing it’s really not the little two-timing shit’s day, is it?

-Mary receiving Charlie B in the most Extra way possible. A++

-Why does Wolsey look like he’s about to cry?

-”thoughts are not actions” Lina I love you but... that is NOT what the New Testament says. Jesus said evil thoughts are very very much sins. I’ll give you a pass because maybe you haven’t been Catholic as long as Katherine has? Idk your backstory.

-Aaand now she’s wishing death on Bessie and her unborn baby and Lina isn’t disgusted? At least Katherine is feeling guilty. AS SHE SHOULD.

-”must it always fall to me to be magnanimous?” Katherine, you think only of yourself, for 23 out of every 24 hours. 

-”God wants me to be compassionate to Bessie because of my sins” God wants you to be compassionate because that’s how Christianity is supposed to work. It’s not very selfless of you to decide to be selfless so that you can get what you want. 

-oh wow look at that! She’s getting some self-awareness, i never saw that coming.

-”you betrayed Bessie” 5 points to Katherine of Aragon for standing up for Bessie when Henry screwed her over. Finally, some positive character development.

- MINUS 20000 POINTS FOR BABY STEALING

-WHAT THE FUCK

-is henry so dumb he thinks that baby is Katherine’s? Katherine was so obviously not pregnant

-When a baby’s born his skin needs to touch his mother’s skin so they can bond. They should have at least an hour’s cuddle time. Katherine of Aragon is literally traumatising a baby the very minute he is born. For her own selfish, selfish desires. 

[sebspocketsquare]

Quarantine 8

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (online)

A/N: Heya guys! Here’s part 8. I hope you like it ;)

Warnings: Flirting, language, breaking quarantine, nerves, feels, fluff, some sad talk, talk of the freight car incident, one single, solitary KISS(I did use a gif from endings, beginnings in here too, at the very bottom.)

Unsteady digits wrap around the door handle, while the other set unlatches your locks. 

The door swings open fast enough to startle J into a standing position, nearly falling over with his back to you.

The first thing you notice is his height, his strong, wide shoulders… and then the way his clothing sticks to his form. He was drenched, as you had feared.

He turns halfway, taking a peek at you through his peripheral vision, as if he can’t believe you just opened the door. Like he can’t believe you’re now standing before him, no barrier between you.

“I-I can’t just let you sit out here.” You try to say, but it comes out a breathless whisper.

That’s when he finally turns to face you, eyes softening and lips curving up when he’s able to really take you in. “Clair.”

The name comes out in a sigh, at the same time that you both move forward for an embrace.

But you stop, just as fast.

The rule.

No contact.

He drops his hands in fists at his side, as do you, and sighs in defeat.

Your next words seem to brighten him up again.

“Do you.. Want to come inside..?”

His eyes land on yours and he looks unsure.

You can read the unspoken question in his gaze, ‘what about the quarantine?’.

“My couch is pretty big. We can stay separated, I promise. No touching.” You hold your hands up in mock surrender, and he smiles for the second time that night before he nods.

“I’d love to.”

It’s strange, watching him enter your apartment.

It was a scenario that you’d imagined many, many times, but never like this.

He kicks his shoes off by your shoe rack and you can hear his socks make a wet slosh against the wooden floors.

He releases a nervous laugh as a slight pink tinge surfaces on his cheeks. “I uh.. I guess I’m a little wet. Could I.. Do you have a towel I could borrow?”

Nodding, you quickly scurry off to your bathroom closet, returning with two fluffy towels for him to use. He’s already shedding his coat, letting it hang from the back of one of your dining room chairs. There are little puddles of water scattered on the floor from every move he’s made, and you can’t help but giggle a little.

He releases a chuckle of his own at the sound, “Are you laughin’ at me, doll?”

“Maybe just a bit.. Here.” You hand him the towels, close enough now to see that even his jeans are colored dark blue from their over moisturization, and a small frown takes over your face.

“What’s the matter, Clair?” He wonders, seeing the crease in your brow.

“You should, um..” You pause, realizing the implications of what you were so ready to ask of him just seconds ago.

He raises his eyebrows, as if to ask, ‘what?’.

Warmth creeps up your neck as the next words come out of your mouth. “You really should let me wash and dry your clothes for you.. once the power comes back on, of course.. You’re going to get sick.”

“Are you..” He clears his throat as a smirk appears on his lips. “You want me to get undressed? On our second date? Clair..” He cocks his eyebrow playfully, and his teasing officially breaks the ice between the two of you, causing you both to erupt into laughter.

Once the sound dies down, you repeat yourself. “I mean it. Get undressed. I have a spare blanket you can bundle up in for now.” You nod to the blanket resting on the back of your couch, and he nods in return. “Yes ma’am.”

You move into the living room and light a few candles, placing his thermos on the coffee table right next to the remote. Trying not to let yourself get too distracted by the fact that J is undressing in the middle of your living room, you light a few more candles while you wait.

He speaks your name once he’s finished, and you turn to find him standing in his boxers with a long sleeved shirt still on. His pants, socks and hoodie are hanging from his fingers and the blanket you mentioned is clutched in his other hand.

“Where’s the washer? I don’t want you to have to do my laundry.”

You lick your lips, picking up one of the candles and cocking your head in a request to follow you through the apartment, and he does, but keeps a distance as he walks behind you.

When you reach the laundry room, you stand in the far corner, watching him toss the clothes into the machine.

“You know.. I.. I meant the shirt, too. That’s one of the things that’s the most wet.”

His hands are still in the machine, and you can see the muscles tense in his back. 

You know he’s uncomfortable with you seeing his arm, the scars and the prosthetic. 

The way the cloth of his shirt clings to his skin makes it look like everything is completely normal to you, but you remember how terrified he was to even tell you about it in the first place.

“I.. I can’t.”

You sigh, wishing you could reach out and place a comforting hand on his shoulder. “If it’s about.. Your arm.. It’s okay, J. I’m not going to judge you.. I told you it wouldn’t bother me.”

It’s his turn to sigh, and he lets his head hang low. “It.. It’s more than that..”

A few moments of silence hang in the air between you, and that's when you decide it’s best to give him a bit of space. “Look.. I’ll go wait in the living room so you can have some privacy, okay? I just.. You should really get your shirt dry too. I’m just worried about you.”

You don’t leave time for him to say anything before you set your candle on the dryer beside him and head back through the dark apartment.

It takes twenty minutes before he joins you.

You’re staring into the candle that rests on the coffee table, so lost in your own thoughts that you don’t hear him come up behind you. When he takes a seat on the opposite end of the couch, you jump and let out a small gasp. “Oh! Fuck, I-I didn’t even hear you come back.”

In the light from the candle, you can see him smile nervously as he adjusts his sitting position. He’s got one of the towels you loaned him wrapped around his shoulders like a vice, and you swear you see a metallic glimmer on his arm before he has the chance to pull your blanket around himself.

“Better?” You ask once he’s settled, staring at the candle you had been watching moments before. 

“Better.”

A silence forms between you.

It’s not necessarily uncomfortable, but you can tell he’s trying to figure out how to tell you something. Whatever it was he couldn’t bring himself to say in the laundry room.

“Clair?” He murmurs. You look up at him in return.

“I.. I need to tell you something.”

“Okay..” Unsure of what he could have to say, you adjust so you’re sitting cross legged, facing him with your hands in your lap.

A sigh leaves his lips, and you can see the inner war he’s waging written on his face.

“I knew I’d have to tell you eventually, I.. I just didn’t think it’d be so soon.. Definitely not today. I hope that when I tell you.. You don’t think differently of me.”

He can’t even make eye contact with you at this point, and your heart drops to your stomach.

“What is it, J?”

“Do you remember… it was a fair few years ago, but.. There was a man who set off a bomb at the UN in Vienna? Killed several people, including the king of a foreign country..?”

You try to think back. The story sounds familiar, but you can’t recall all the details of the event.

“Vaguely.. Wasn’t there a suspect in custody, but it ended up not being him at all? Someone impersonated him?”

J nods, “The suspect was.. Well, they called him The Winter Soldier..”

“Oh! That’s right! James something.. And it was actually some crazy guy who also impersonated a psychiatrist he had murdered. I remember now..”

You wait for him to continue, but he doesn’t at first.

“J.. What does any of that have to do with you?”

He inhales shakily. You can tell he’s trying not to cry.

“In 1944, I was on a mission with my best friend Steve. We were dropping in on this train, trying to get a hold of… someone.. someone bad.” 

He stops, and you start doing the math in your head.. That was 76 years ago, so why is he talking like he was actually there?

“I lost my footing and.. Steve, he tried to save me, but.. I fell from the freight car and down the mountain. I thought I was dead. When I woke up on an operating table, face to face with a man who had used me for his ridiculous experiments when I had been captured before, I.. I wished I had died.”

He pauses to sniffle, and that’s when you realize he’s crying.

This is real to him.

“He said he was helping me. That amputation was my only option.. I-I didn’t realize he was making me into a weapon.. Or that the process had started before I even stepped foot on or off that train.”

He adjusts, and the blanket he kept so tightly wrapped around him falls a bit, revealing a gleaming plate in his left shoulder. You make the decision not to point it out, to let him finish his story, no matter where it leads.

“I spent the next several years.. Brainwashed. They made me do things that I never would have done. Over and over and over again.” The next breath he takes in is more of a gasp than anything. It breaks your heart.

“When the UN was bombed.. I was done with all of that. I wasn’t that person anymore. I wasn’t a puppet.. A monster.. I’ve spent my time since then trying to become a better man, and I.. I’d like to think that I am. I don't do those things anymore, I.. I just help people.”

He finally looks up to see your reaction, eyes shining with fresh tears.

“So you.. You’re.. Him.”

“Yes.”

You release a long breath you didn't realize you’d been holding in.

“So then.. The reason you got weird when I mentioned Sam looking like Captain America.. It’s because..”

“He’s Captain America, yes. You were right.”

Running a hand through your hair, you try to collect your thoughts, “Wow.”

He’s waiting for you to say something, anything, but you remain silent, mind racing.

“Clair?” He finally pulls your attention back to the present moment.

His eyes meet yours and he looks concerned. “Are you.. Are you okay?”

“It’s just…”

“Yes?”

You let out a shuddering breath before speaking.

“There’s an Avenger sitting on my couch and Captain fucking America installed my security system..”

The noise that leaves J’s mouth is somewhere between a laugh and a sob, and he’s got a confused look on his face. “This is not how I expected you to react. Are you in shock?”

“No, it’s just… Well, wait, how did you expect me to react?” You start to explain yourself, but decide to question him instead.

He sighs, and you notice his eyes start to glisten even in the dim room. “Well, I..” 

When he pauses, you instinctively lean forward a fraction of an inch, just wanting to wrap him in your arms.

“I certainly didn’t expect you to stick around, that’s for sure.. This has been my biggest fear about all of this..”

“So.. you thought you’d tell me the truth about who you really are and I’d what? ….run away?” Your voice is soft, an undertone of sadness evident. “J, I.. I got to know the real you, even if I didn’t know who you were. Don’t you see that? We had no choice but to rely on an emotional connection for all those months that we talked, and we still managed to find ourselves here, I.. I guess what I’m trying to say is.. you’re still the same person, to me. It doesn’t change anything about what we’ve been through together, doesn’t change how intensely I feel about—“ 

You suddenly stop, realizing what you almost let slip.

He catches it, the corner of his lip rising to a small smile. 

“How intensely you feel about what, doll?” He murmurs, so softly that you might not have caught it if you weren’t only a few feet away from him.

“How.. How intensely I feel about.. you.”

Once the confession finally leaves your lips, he’s grinning from ear to ear.

It falters for just a moment, “So.. you’re not afraid of me, then?”

“Absolutely not.”

You both spend the next hour and a half talking about his past. 

He lets you ask as many questions as you’d like, and tries to answer them as best as he can. 

He tells you about what life was like as a kid with Steve Rogers, his best friend. He also tells you the grief of losing him just a few years ago.

Since then, Sam has become his closest friend, and someone he can share his loss with as well. 

You were finding yourself thankful that they had each other. 

He goes into more detail of his life as the Soldier, tells you about Hydra and Dr. Zola, the man that gave him the weapon he’s still shielding from your sight.

When you’re finally satisfied with your pestering, you lay your head against the back of the couch, staring at him. He mirrors your actions. 

“What’s goin’ on in that pretty head of yours, Doll?” He wonders after a few minutes.

You smile bashfully, eyes darting to the arm that he’s kept concealed up until this moment. “Well, um.. I was just wondering if since.. since I know about it now if..”

“You want to see it?”

He sounds shocked, and his expression shows that too. Eyes a little wider, jaw a bit slack.

“I mean-No! Not if you’re not comfortable with it, I was just.. curious.” Embarrassed, you try to back out of it. You feel stupid for even asking.

He exhales a small laugh as he sits up straight. “I.. I guess it won’t hurt to show you now.”

He slowly allows the blanket to fall from his shoulders, revealing the navy and golden masterpiece that was his arm and the angry scarring that he’d been so concerned about you seeing. 

Your first reaction is to gasp, but not out of disgust. 

It's his beauty.

Unable to control yourself, you move closer across the couch, until you’re kneeling less than six inches away. Your hand reaches out to touch him, just on the forearm. 

The metal is cool and smooth beneath your touch and has your hand skitters upwards towards his bicep, the plates whir and shift quietly.

Before your fingers can graze the plates of his shoulder, his free hand wraps around your wrist to stop you.

Your name comes out in a whisper and you look up to meet his eyes. They’re glowing, even in the dark, and you can’t look away from him. 

“I thought.. I thought we agreed..” he stops, licking his lips, “No touching.”

Heat surges through your body as you realize what you’ve done, completely invading his personal space.

You start to lean back, but his grip on your wrist merely tightens, pulling you forward until you’re straddling his lap, hands resting on his bare chest,

“J..” the initial comes out as more of a whimper when he brings his hand to cup your jaw, running his thumb across your skin. He touches you as if you’re made of porcelain, delicate and fleeting. 

“So beautiful..” you can feel his words as an exhale across the bridge of your nose, and suddenly you’re wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into the tightest hug you’ve ever given.

He returns it just the same.

A sigh of relief leaves you, with a few tears following. You hold him even tighter in that moment, and he grips onto you as if he’s afraid you’ll slip away if he doesn’t. 

“Oh, fuck.. you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this.” He strokes the back of your head, hiding his face in the crook of your neck as he inhales deeply. It’s like he’s trying to memorize how he feels in your presence; how he feels wrapped up in you.

“I think I have a bit of an idea.” Your voice is trembling, and you press a quick, barely there kiss to the top of his head.

He hesitantly pulls back, just to rest his forehead against yours. Noses brushing together, you both smile when your eyes meet again.

“Hi there.” Your words are quiet, as if you were afraid if you talked too loud, this moment would shatter somehow. 

He merely hums and nuzzles his nose against yours once more.

“I.. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t thinkin’ about kissing you right now, Clair..”

The thought of such an action has your toes curling and your stomach flipping. “Are you?”

He nods, making eye contact with your mouth. “Could I…?”

You bite the inside of your cheek. Of course you want him to.. but you have to tease him a little bit first.

“I just have one question, first..”

He hums, waiting for you to ask.

“Exactly how old are you, again?”

You can’t help but giggle once the words are out, and he responds with a playful growl.

“So that’s how it’s gonna be, is it?” His smile is enormous at this point, and it grows a little softer when he cradles your face. His thumb gently pulls at your lower lip, eyes meet yours, and then his mouth follows suit.

TAGS: (I wasnt sure who to tag, so if you dont want to be, I’m sorry!! Just trying to get this out there. ALSO if you wanna be tagged INBOX ME! I tend to miss people in the tags :(  ).  @mindingmyownbusiness​​ @plumfondler​​  @buckybarnesappreciationsociety​​ @loricameback​​ @tinaferraldo​​ @geminimoonbeamx​​  @preserumsteverogers​​ @moderapoppins​​ @lowkeysebby​​ @buckyshattergirl​​  @jayattemptstoruletheworld​​    @the-observant-fangirl​​ @moondancewrites​​ @moonbeambucky​​ @trinityjadec​​  @stevieang​​  @bionic-buckyb​​ @eyecandybarnes​​ @propertyofpoeandbucky​​ @promarvelfangirl​​ @ballyhoobarnes​​ @bucky-plums-barnes​​ @cate-lynne​​ @witchymarvelspacecase​​ @imaginingbucky​​ @theimpossibleg1rl​ @babygurl8840 @wonderlandmind4 @buckysthing​​ @formulafun​​ @curvybihufflepuff​​ @fanficsformarvelkillme​​  @shadyskit​​ @lostinthoughtsandfeelings​​ @reading–mermaid @fuckmestan​​ @siliverin​​ @verygraphicink​​ @sallyp-53 @thatsbucknasty​​ @steadyphantomcat​​ @booktease21 @kiki5283 @lostinspace33 @drayshadow​​ @theperditioncrasher​​ @mmyepic​​ @feelmyroarrrr@alien-beans @heartsaved​​ @sideeffectsofyou​​ @dreamingofonceuponatime​​ @just-a-littlebit-of-everything​​ @bluerorjhan​​ @tarynsnotokay​​ @jamdropx35 @turquoisekokiri​​ @pinknerdpanda​​​ @starkrobb​​ @marvelgirl7​ @unscriptedtimetraveler​​ @fangeekkk​​ @wonderlandmind4​ @pinkisokay​​ @mrsdaamneron​​ @rynabarnesrogers​​ @wish-i-had-something-better​ @stanning-seb-stan​​ @oilersgirl35​ @vaisabu​​ @paranoid-borderline-insane​ @bonkywobble​​ @vikki-rogue​​ @witchymegg​​ @a--1--1--3​ @margetastic33​ @stuffandstuff-stuff​​ @broken-hearted-barnes​​ @elementec​​ @thummbelina​​ @booktease21​ @the-murder-strut-murdered-me​ @haileystudy @fanfictiontime​ @afterlaughter27​ @aveatquevale- @cap-just-said-language​ @wastedavenger​ @joseyrw​ @ordinaryweirowithintentions​

[weloveabigblackcar]

I’d just like to introduce you to these random characters my siblings and I made up on a long car ride. Last year they had to go through the atrocity of being quarantined with the rest of us.

Without further ado... meet these absolute weirdos.

Quarantine from Adam’s Point of View

March 14, 2020-Day 1

So, the whole world is under quarantine right now because some geniuses decided that eating bats would be a good idea. Yeah, that wasn’t the smartest way to go guys. We have a pandemic now… Thanks…

Anyway, I have decided to document the IQ of me, James, and Garth as it slowly decreases. Not that we had a lot to begin with, but having us all cooped up for a long time in one place is bound to go pear-shaped at some point.

We didn’t really do anything today other than process the fact that we’re going to have to stay in one place for who knows how long instead of driving around the country. But I’m sure things will get more interesting as time goes on.

March 18, 2020-Day 5

Today, we braved the outdoors and went to the store to stock up. It was like the entire population was at the store, it was awful. We ended up buying lots of things we needed, and a lot more that we didn’t need. Today has been a lesson to never bring Garth shopping. We lost her a total of six times, and when we did have her with us, she kept pulling puppy eyes whenever she wanted something even though she’s 17. There’s got to be something about her being an alien that makes it so you can’t resist it. Dang it Garth.

March 27, 2020-Day 14

James keeps asking if deer can get the virus because he’s been worrying about his family. In case you were wondering, no, James is not a nature freak, yes, I said his family are deer (kind of), and yes, James is a deer... on occasion. It’s kinda weird, but so are Garth and I. I mean, she’s an alien and I’m English so there really isn’t that much of a difference.

Also today, I read an entire 900-page book. It was really nice until I realized I hadn’t been interrupted yet. So I went on an adventure to go find the children, aka James and Garth, and found them playing Monopoly. Neither of them knows how to play Monopoly, and they lost the rules, so they resorted to using the money to gamble for pop tarts. I don’t think they know how to gamble either because usually, you’re gambling for the money, not the other way around. But thank you, James, for gambling away all of my pop tarts. I can never forgive you.

April 7, 2020-Day 25

So we’re trying to make our own food today because we ran out of Eggo waffles. It’s been interesting so far. Garth pulled out all the Kool-Aid from her stash that we bought like two weeks ago that she said she’d use, but hasn’t. So now we’re making Kool-Aid pickles, and we haven’t even had breakfast yet.

Upon realizing we couldn’t eat the pickles yet, we decided to see how many different foods we could make with Kool-Aid. We made some cookies and popsicles, but then, after accepting the fact that none of us can really effectively make food, resorted to adding to our mess of flour on the ceiling and eggs on the walls by making finger paint (out of Kool-Aid) and painting the counters. We made a huge mess, obviously, and spent the remaining hours of the day cleaning and realizing that we actually don’t have anything better to do with our lives.

April 15, 2020-Day 33

Today James learned that Garth doesn’t know how to use a toaster. We had no idea she didn’t know how to use it, and I guess we just assumed she did because she looks human enough, but she’s not… They had a conversation from across the house that went along the lines of this:

James- “Garth?!”

Garth- “What?”

James- “The toaster’s on fire!”

Garth- “What?!”

James- “The. Toaster. Is. On. Fire!”

Garth- “Well yeah, I heard you.”

James- “Garth..?”

Garth- “...Yes?”

James- “Uh… How many pieces of bread did you put in the toaster?”

Garth- “Three…? I think.”

James- “Garth, you can’t put three pieces of bread in the toaster!”

Garth- “Why not?”

James- “Maybe because it’s only made for one piece of bread? Maybe because if you put in more than one it catches on fire?”

Garth- “Well, that’s dumb. What if I want three pieces of toast?”

James- “Buy yourself a bigger toaster Garth, buy yourself a bigger toaster. Or cook them one at a time, but you should just buy a bigger toaster so I don’t have to cook my toasts individually.”

And then James walked away leaving the toaster on fire. It was kind of entertaining. Who am I kidding, it was the most entertaining thing that’s happened all week even though the house almost burnt down and I had to clean it up. If I’m being honest though, I’m glad that I was the one cleaning it up because after last time... I’m the only one I trust with a fire extinguisher.

April 29, 2020-Day 47

I can now say that I have mastered the art of knitting, and I am not too proud of it. I’ve made sweaters, socks, and hats for the three of us because knitting takes up a lot of time, and I have run out of other, even slightly productive things to do. I also made little caps to stick on the ends of James’s antlers just because I can. Garth thinks they’re absolutely hilarious. She also thinks the fact that I taught myself how to knit from YouTube is hilarious too. She’s just jealous that I can do something she can’t.

May 4, 2020-Day 52

Today, my friends, is Star Wars day. We merged today and tomorrow so that we could eat tacos in our ship. It’s taco day tomorrow, also known as Cinco De Mayo, if you didn’t figure it out already and yeah… we built a ship. It’s in the living room, correction, it is the living room now, and it probably won’t leave for the rest of quarantine. We made it out of a bunch of cardboard and it took all of yesterday to put together, but it was totally worth it. We put the tv in there and a bunch of pillows and blankets. There’s also a table and a bunch of junk food. Not like we have anything else at this point. Well, we have the pickles… but no one is brave enough to try them yet. The ship fort is pretty cozy though. Garth said that she wants to live in it until this thing is over and I honestly won’t be surprised if she does.

May..? 2020?? Day… I’ve Lost Count

We haven’t been outside in the past two weeks and we’ve been living off of the Kool-Aid pickles that we made a while ago and Garth’s hoard of Pop-Tarts that are technically mine. I don’t know what day it is anymore, I’ve stopped keeping track because there really isn’t any point in doing so. I don’t even know if it’s May anymore. It might be June or maybe it’s September, who knows. It might even be 2021 I don’t know.

Garth now resides on the ceiling of our spaceship in a blanket cocoon and hasn’t come out since the week of Cinco De Mayo. She only lets me and James in sometimes for movie nights and if she needs food. I think she’s trying to hide the fact that she hasn’t slept in a month (which honestly doesn’t surprise me) and has binge-watched all of Doctor Who and is now starting on Supernatural. Aside from Garth, James and I have kept ourselves somewhat entertained. We learned how to play the spoons last week and it turns out that in you do it by ‘Garth’s’ spaceship, the creature will emerge and socialize for a few minutes. We’ve also learned how to do a bunch of random things like saying hello in 48 different languages, how to properly tie a tie (even though we’ll probably never exercise that skill again), how to cut an onion without crying, and how to escape being mummied with duct tape… that one took a while and a lot of tape.

I think it’s official that we’ve gone completely stir crazy and even when we get out of this, we’ll probably still be mentally impaired from this experience. I won’t be able to write anymore because I’ve run out of space and James needs as much attention as a newborn so farewell until… another time.

[katiebruce]

adios, amigo.

Well, 2020. What is there to say that hasn’t already been said, tweeted or Instagram-ed a thousand and two times about you? I’ll save us all the generic stuff—“unprecedented,” “nightmarish,” “absurd”—yes, 2020 was all of those things, but on a deeper, more personal level, there is so much more I have to say that doesn’t fit quite into those clichés.

So, this will be my attempt to document and reflect upon one of the strangest years I’ve encountered in my thirty-one years on this planet. Buckle up, buttercup.

Like many others before me have frequently observed, the way I spend my New Year’s Eve has always set the tone for the year to come, and boy, was this year a picture-perfect example of exactly that. Because I had to work on January first, I spent my New Year’s Eve at home watching a depressing movie with T, quietly kissing on the cold back patio as fireworks went off in the distance. I remember feeling both happy and sad about this evening (a duality that was a major theme for me for the fifty-two weeks to come, if only I had known). I was sad not to be celebrating my favorite holiday and even remember telling T that I didn’t want the year to come to be one I spent not going out, staying home, and becoming reclusive as I finished up the stressful process of finishing my MFA thesis in the course of ten (or, what I thought would be ten) short months.

But on the other hand, being held in T’s arms, I remembered feeling so happy that I could have this little quiet holiday—something that felt so private and personal—so entirely our own. It really set the tone for our relationship for the year, and for the obstacles we not only overcame together but dominated, one right after the next.

January was cold, snowy, and full of flight cancellations, which I remember to be something worth celebration at the time. I stayed home and snuggled my way into Aquarius season, the time for me and my brethren to shine, feeling positive that I had lived my thirtieth year to one of great satisfaction and maximum travels taken. (If only I had known then that that late-January El Paso layover where my crew and I walked across the border into Juarez to eat street tacos and laugh over Mezcal would be one of the only times I would leave the country for the year, well, I might have taken a few shots of tequila and really enjoyed my stay abroad just a bit longer).

February came, and with it, the promise of friends. My darling Kristopher, as always, flew to Chicago on the day of (also the day I completed and passed my eighth recurrent [!]) and, thanks to my other darling baby, Nicole, scored tickets to one of the highly coveted format reunion tour shows happening in March* for me, her, and my momma.

(*It did not, in fact, take place in March).

I turned thirty-one in the way I’ve come accustomed too—surrounded by my favorite people (this year at Dorians—a jazz club to end all jazz clubs) too drunk and too smiley to even coherently remember the evening properly. As much fun as I remember having, I told T that I thought it was my last year to host some sort of birthday gathering, and to hold me to it come next year. (He did very well—a few weeks later, after spotting an ad in a discarded newspaper for the Chicago tour of Moulin Rouge happening on my birthday weekend, we bought tickets and I sat peacefully with the fact that one of my new year (or, new age) resolutions was so quickly and poignantly adapted).

By this time, I was already deep in the throes of my first thesis writing course, meaning that I was pretty stressed out all of the time and surely a misery to be around (sorry to those of you who were). Basically, in three semesters’ time, I was expected to draft, edit, and rewrite a fully formed novel (70,000+ words) and the idea of accomplishing such a feat felt like a ton of bricks being carried on my shoulders. I had at least four mental breakdowns in the beginning of the year (again, we all know what lays ahead for the year, I know—but at the time, this seemed like an unbearable amount of stress for one person to have to carry. The joke is not lost on me).

In the coming weeks, things began to get even weirder. Covid scares began sprouting up in cities all around us, and as the government asked people to stay at home, airline ticket prices became massively reduced, so more people began traveling. I mean, this shit was like spring break on acid—it was hugely stressful, and though the threat of the pandemic had yet to reach Chicago, I felt more and more at risk with each passing day as careless amounts of people cashed in on what they thought was the deal of a lifetime.

By the time March reached its midpoint, I, like so many others, was terrified. We had no PPE at work—literally nothing. No gloves, masks, or even hand wipes. Cleaning the aircraft still wasn’t considered a “no-go” item, as far as regulatory practices go. I remember watching the news on my layovers only to keep myself up at night wondering if the virus was going to take hold of me or anyone around me, and if so, how long until they would recover, or perhaps wouldn’t.

St. Patrick’s Day came, and after fighting about whether or not to go out with friends (we didn’t—and for the record, T and I rarely fight—but this was, after all, his first St. Patrick’s Day as a Chicagoan—so his resentment was more than justified) we saw a matinee movie (Onward) and while in the theater, read about how Chicago restaurants, as a precaution, were shutting down the next day due to rising concerns about the spread of the virus. We reacted by grabbing drinks & lunch at one of our favorite neighborhood eateries and tipping the waitstaff more heavily than I think I’ve ever tipped anyone in my life (not mentioning this to brag, or whatever—just remembering what it was like to feel utterly helpless and unsure of what to do or what was to come—we had to find our positivity in some way, and on that day, this was how we saw fit, and it helped).

Then it all sort of happened at once—Lauren’s store was closed with no impending reopening date. The grocery stores (and I swear to god, I will never forget this) became a madhouse—people taking things out of other people’s carts when they weren’t looking. I remember going into Mariano’s with T and insisiting we tie bandanas around our faces for safety, feeling like a goddamn bank robber about to make a heist. But there was nothing left to even take. Frantically, we got what we could and got out of there, and I went home to have a full-fledged panic attack about the state of the world we were currently living in and what we were going to do if things didn’t turn around quickly.

As if overnight, everyone cancelled their airline tickets. It was for the better, and though it put my job in serious jeopardy, I was in massive support of it but still felt an eerie sadness looming around the countless empty airports, airplanes, hotels and city streets. There were times when my crew and I were the only guests in a place—times when I had zero passengers on a revenue flight. And then came the mass flight cancellations—and I mean mass. Everyday became a battle of anxiety as to what was going to happen to my job in the next twenty-four hours, and then cooing my stressed-out thoughts to sleep, only to relive the anxiety with every phone buzz waiting to find out if I had lost my job overnight. By mid-spring, I was hugely considering dropping out for a period of time, just due to the stress of it all, but thanks to support from my friends, family and T, I chose to stick it out and roll with as many punches as I could until I was finally knocked-out.

Quarantines were happening all around me, and without the ability to travel or the (former) grueling expectations of maintaining a social life, I started to reconnect with myself in ways that felt both organic and new, yet much like returning home after a long time away. Lauren taught me to knit, and we celebrated her birthday on the floor of our apartment in an Indian-food induced daze renting Emma and making thousands of tiny knots onto needles that would eventually become blankets. We took walks, did puzzles, and Lauren drove me to and from the airport on the rare occasion that I actually had a flight to work, as the CTA had, unfortunately, become a cesspool of targeted attacks on flight crew members (seriously) because they were often the only person in any given train car.

A rare glimpse of optimism then presented itself via two different opportunities: a chance to take a ninety-day leave from work, and a job offer in the form of editing a book for publication. I said yes to both and hoped that I would be able to take a step back and deal with the crumbling world around me easier with both of these opportunities now on my horizon.

This period of the year (May-July) started off swimmingly. Knitting, reading, and even smoking weed for the first time in nearly a decade (I took two hits and spent the rest of the evening sinking into the couch painfully aware of how bad I am at breathing and worrying that I might stop at any given moment). I fell in love with yoga and felt myself loosening up parts of my body and my mind that had been twisted into a series of knots for god only knows how long. I spent days reading in the sun, baking bread like everyone else in the world, and learning to make my own pies. Things were going really well, and I was even ahead in school, now on track to graduate in August—when things started getting heated.

I’m not going to go on a rant about race, although I very much could, but I will say this—the fact that we are still in a race war in this country in the year 2020 (and even now, a few days into 2021) makes me so sick to my stomach I don’t know what to do. Every injustice that passes by us, overshadowed by the next untimely death or wrongdoing makes me angry in ways that I cannot even fathom putting into words. It burns the color red that is so hot and so vibrant that I can see it soaking through my eyelids even when I squeeze them shut. This country lost a lot of love from me this year, and even more respect. There are not only things we can do better—there are things we must change. And honestly, most days, I don’t think most of the country is ready to not only admit that but to also work for. And that not only sickens me, but depresses the living hell out of me. I feel so stunted all of the time when I picture a world so at peace with its own injustice. It’s just so unfair.

I watched as the world was (rightfully, although woefully) destroyed around me. My neighborhood turned into a desolate, looted shadow of itself—one where Lauren and I could sit on our back patio safely until dusk, when the crime and gunfire became so rabid that on occasions, we sat in the living room in total darkness, listening only to the radio, afraid to let anybody at street level see that we were, indeed, at home. The opportunists that took advantage of the message of this movement made me numb to such a large demographic of the population, and I found myself crying myself to sleep enough times that I thought it might be time to leave the warzone that had become Chicago for a little while as escape down to Florida. So, we packed our bags and left. It is not lost on me that so many did not have this option, and for so many minorities, just simply existing during this time was enough to cause assault. I know I am fortunate—I carry it like lead in my pockets every day.

While in Florida, the first retailers began to reopen and I found myself waiting in an hour-long line to buy soaps and hand sanitizers, and to get a glimpse of what this “new normal” might look like when things started picking back up again. Like many, it was jarring to see empty tables, capacity limits on items, cashiers behind plexiglass sheets shouting to be heard over both the physical barrier and the cloth one strung across their faces.

By the time T & I arrived home, Lauren was already making plans to reopen her store “safely” and I felt sorry for her. How could anything be safe when nothing had changed? Why were companies acting as if business could go on like before—even though nothing had gotten better?

My final months of my MFA were just ahead of me, and I had one month remaining free from work to finish my first full-length novel, and I all I really remember is stress stress stress.

And then Andrew, being Andrew, offered a glimmer of hope, in the form of a drive-in concert celebrating fifteen years of Everything in Transit in southern California, a mere matter of hours from where Nicole had been working. It took a matter of two or maybe three text messages to confirm that we would be attending, and once the ticket was purchased I practically packed my bags and headed off to visit her and try and make light of my heart.

As suspected, the trip was magical. Being around Nicole, per usual, was magical. My heart felt so fully aligned seeing a little piece of her story and getting to experience her way of life once more—drunken hot springs and all their glory. There truly are few things in my life I love more than sitting in the passenger’s seat as Nicole drives us all over the country, and experiencing it again felt so right and so perfect that I honestly thought it was one of the happiest experiences of my life. Because I had requested so, she drove me all the way to Venice Beach the day of the concert so we could see where the infamous album cover was taken. We ate cbd gummies and listened to jack’s and ate in-n-out burger like our lives depended on it. When the concert began, it was eerie, yet hopeful to see all the new protocols of something that had become so familiar to me in my former life. Drinks were ordered through an app and delivered, as was merch, and clapping was replaced by the exuberant honking of car horns. We streamed the sound through the radio and laid the in the back of Nicole’s converted SUV as we cried and sang along to the songs that made everything, even just for one night, feel like it was all going to be okay again. We ended the evening marking ourselves with our first stick and poke tattoos—hers a sun to my moon, positioned to kiss one another when we stand next to each other on our preferred selfie side (lol). I left worried about how long it might be before I could feel her warm embrace again, the embrace of one of the truest friends I’ll ever know, but also recognizing that we were lucky to have had such an experience at all during such an insane year and feeling eternally grateful for its memory.

The last weeks of what I referred to as my Rumspringa were ahead of me, and one sunny afternoon I wrote the final pages of my novel. In a mad rush to edit, revise and complete my portfolio for official review, I never really sat with myself and what I had accomplished or congratulated myself; I wrote a book in seven months’ time, and even though I am unhappy with it (more on that later) there’s no denying that I actually did it. I did it, and nobody can ever take that away from me; it’s an accomplishment I will forever have, and it’s all my own. And I need to remind myself of that. I need to let myself feel proud.

I was back to work in September and taking a huge pay cut, though working the same hours. It was stressful, but once I found out my portfolio had been accepted and I, indeed, would be receiving my MFA I felt a bit at peace for a while. I had let my hair grow long all summer, and all but stopped wearing make-up (mascara makes me feel entirely dolled up now). I felt in an odd way free—almost bare.

The fall came and went fairly quickly—the weekends alone at home and grocery-store-only outings feeling more and more like normalcy. It had been such a tough, trying year, that it suddenly felt nice to just stand still for a bit. So, I did.

In a brief amount of time, I watched (safely) as friends got married, got sick, got older and fell in love. I watched, with great anxiety, as our country voted in the most important election of our lives so far and took the deepest breath I’d ever taken as I watched that man face defeat—although he’s yet to swallow it. I watched as ex-lovers had babies, got engaged and never really stopped to think twice about any of it. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: the safety (and not in a lame, “safety-net” sort of way) of having T in my life has turned me into someone who not only craves quiet time at home, but really also sort of fell right damn into it very easily, though unexpectedly. I’ve heard the saying so many times before, but you really don’t realize everything is different once you find the right fit because that place feels like it’s always been home. I am grateful to not only have that now and moving forward, but most certainly throughout the trying, unstable times of 2020. In fact, I don’t know how I would have survived without it.

The holidays always creep up on me, and after being dealt a shitty hand from work (don’t even get me started, I’m still fuming) they came that much quicker. T & I were lucky enough to spend the holidays back home in the swamp, visiting my parents and his Dad. The time went by fast but was relaxing, fun, and reenergizing. We spent New Year’s Eve playing giant Jenga and yard Yahtzee with my parents in the cool, tropical winter of Florida. It was nice. We got tired right around 11, so we laid in bed until midnight talking, staying awake just long enough to share our new year’s kiss. It felt right—a proper send off to such a strange and unusual year. I was exctly where I needed to be—wrapped up in a blanket of T’s embrace, comfy in a bed in my childhood bedroom.

So now, here it is: 2021—the supposed upgrade to 2020, or so everybody secretly hopes. So now, as I sit here, drinking a warm, soy-chai latte (homemade!) I find myself having great difficulty setting an intention for the days ahead of me. I feel so beaten and bruised and physically fatigued for no reason but the experiences of 2020 and the courses they ran all over my life. I’m feeling reflective of having finished yet another year of my life (and my Saturn return! Halleluj!) and finding it hard to be anything but fatigued. I guess it’s from the year that’s just finished—more so than any other year it physically pained me at times to be alive at times. I’m missing so many of my friends who I haven’t been able to see for extended months at a time now. I am craving a sense of normalcy, of safety, so that I can feel better about making plans, but as for right now I just don’t have it. I am quietly trying to make subtle changes within myself and how I react to the world around me, but just like the start of this new year, that process is a slow one.

One of my resolutions (though I’m growing to hate that word more and more with each passing year) is to get back to writing. I had a good, albeit stressful, thing going while still in school, and after finishing my novel and receiving feedback, I couldn’t shake the feeling of absolute failure. It’s still there—it’s really hard to try and celebrate an accomplishment when you don’t feel like your work was good enough to warrant anything at all—especially not a fine arts degree. I never said I was a fiction writer—I just wanted to get better at writing fiction—so I need to remember that and allow myself to veer away from that for a while, to work on something new. Something I’ve been saying I’m not ready to write for many years now, something that when I now say that is just a plain old lie: My memoir. I’m ready to close the chapter in my life where I am a flight attendant, so the timing feels more than perfect.

I learned so much about what I want to do within my career and what sort of boundaries I don’t want to place on myself—and I’m trying, I really am. T gifted me with my own pottery wheel for Christmas and we are going to set it up this weekend and I am so excited to get my hands muddy and start creating. Until this year, I didn’t realize how much I needed a creative outlet other than writing—I had been depending on it for too long, my little cup felt bone dry. So, I’m excited to see where this new hobby takes me and how it influences my ability to return to the blank page—quite literally.

I know this year will not be the quick fix that so many are hopeful for—I think quite the opposite, actually. But here are some things I know for sure will happen: I will move out of my apartment and in with T. We will then, immediately get a dog and a new apartment. This, alone, feels like enough to fill the pages of the blank year ahead of us. I will go long periods of time without seeing my loved ones, and without traveling (bleak as this lifestyle may be). I will write, even when it’s hard to. I will publish something—I’m at work submitting pieces as we speak, and though the process is slow, I can tell this is my opportunity—I am ready t fight for it. I will turn 32, and the numerology of my life will seem more aligned. I will spend my birthday at home, alone, because of course Moulin Rouge has now been cancelled (I’m fine with it). I will learn more about myself the more I use my hands to create, to plant, to sculpt, to mold. I will love with fervor. I will smile more, because it’s actually healthier for you, even though my black heart hates to admit it. If I’m lucky, maybe I’ll get to attend a live concert, though I realize this might be wishful thinking at this point. I will do mushrooms and giggle with the colors. I will cry. I will hurt and I will cause harm. But through it all, I will persevere. Because if 2020 taught me anything, it’s that I am capable of regenerating into new versions of myself that I didn’t even have the time to dream up. I can adapt to whatever is thrown at me, though it will often times feel impossible. I can, and will, create. I can be reborn (as many times as I’d like to, too).

So, thanks, 2020, for teaching me more about myself than any other period of five years has ever taught me. I definitely feel like I’ve been through the ringer a couple of times, yet I find myself still standing day after day. It must be the way a domino feels, standing up, time after time, knowing that something right in front of you is about to knock you down. But instead of thinking about what I’m bringing down with me, I’m thinking of the entire collective as a whole—we are all experiencing this together. And maybe, just maybe, on the other side, there’s a kid with a smile waiting to do it all over again. And that’s perhaps where the beauty lays: we have to tear everything down in order to do better, be better, make change. Nobody likes to catch fire, but everyone loves rising from the ashes. We’ll all get to where we’re headed, one way or another. And eventually, I hope, we’ll see that the other side is better than we could have ever dreamt of.

I hope that 2021 is a bridge that brings us from destruction to creation. I hope the journey is long, so we all appreciate the outcome.

I love you all and wish you warmth and wellness into this year and beyond.

Happy new year—honor the circumstances you have around you and let them help you grow.

[cafedanslanuit]

wait for me || Saeran x MC - OneShot

genre; angst + fluff

summary; When the pandemic starts, MC gets stuck in another country, away from Saeran who was just starting his recovery. She tries to work a system with him so they can feel close even when they’re kilometers apart.

notes; I had this written down for a month but I couldn’t finish it, lol. hope you like it! <3

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

“No!”

“Saeran, I don’t…”

“No! You’re a liar. You’re lying!”

You flinched, watching how he threw everything that was on his desktop on the floor. The loudness of it made you think maybe Saeran had thrown away the mug he would usually leave around the house. You silently prayed for Saeyoung to come to his room, at least to keep your boyfriend from hurting himself if it came to it.

“I’m not lying, Saeran. I didn’t want this to happen. I’m so sorry, I am” you said, following Saeran’s figure on the screen. He was standing in front of his laptop, walking incessantly around his room, his hands on his head.

“I didn’t think things would get bad so quickly, I already had my ticket set for tomorrow morning. I wanted to be there with you, but they have forbidden flights in and out the country, I can’t go back, I want to, I do!” you insisted “But I can’t. Not for now.”

You expected Saeran to break another thing. You did, hoping it was nothing he could accidentally cut himself with. You had been there for numerous panic attacks and even though he had thrown away any object he had close, trying to protect himself from the danger he thought he was still in, it hadn’t been as violent as it was now. It killed you not being able to be there for him.

And where was Saeyoung!? You grabbed your phone and dialed his number under the table, making sure Saeran wouldn’t see you through your webcam. You heard someone knocking Saeran’s door and trying to open it, but he had apparently locked it.

“Saeran, please open the door” you asked him in a soft voice. The door handle moved and you could hear Saeyoung’s voice from the other room, trying to get inside, asking his brother to let him in. “Saeran, please--”

“No!” he shouted. This time, it seemed the roughness of his scream seemed to scare him too. He let himself fall on the floor as he started crying, his body trembling. You started crying as well, even though Saeran’s psychologist had insisted you had to remain calm whenever he had a panic attack. You wanted nothing else but to be there by his side, smelling the fine scent of his hair, your arms around him, whispering soft nothings to his ear.

“You promised you weren’t going to leave. You promised you wouldn’t leave, you said you would always be here” he whimpered, his hand clutching the fabric of his hoodie.

“I know, baby. But I’m not gone, I may not be there but I will be there. Just wait for me, I’ll be there and I’ll stay with you, I-- I’m so sorry…” you cried, wiping your face with the back of your hand. “I’m sorry, but please don’t cry. I’m with you, I haven’t left you, I still love you, I…”

“Stop lying! Don’t lie to me!” he said, his hands covering his ears. The doorknob had stopped moving and you now feared for Saeyoung. While he was usually more collected, there was no way a breakdown like this from his twin wouldn’t startle him as well.

You didn’t know what else to do. There was no one you could call. You knew Jumin or Zen would do anything to help you, but there was no way they could do something about this. You kept calling your boyfriend’s name, trying to soothe him with your voice as your usually did, but it seemed it never was your voice on the first time. Maybe it was the way you held him or the warmth of your body. He kept trembling, grabbing his clothes frantically, as if he were trying to hold on to something.

“Please, sit on the chair so I can see your face. Can you do that?” you asked.

“You promised you would be by my side. I even gave you the fake elixir and--”

Oh no.

Never before had Saeran regressed to the days in Mint Eye. Sure, he still had nightmares about it, but he had never thought he was still there, still trapped, still abused. You chest felt hollow as you looked around your hotel room, trying to desperately figure out how to help him. How to get him out of there once more.

He was still crying, whimpering on the floor and you couldn’t wrap your head around the idea that he thought he was back in Mint Eye. Back in the place where he was tortured for years, where they had mentally broke him so much he had adopted the passive Ray persona.

“You said you weren’t going to leave. You promised to stay in the room I prepared, you promised” he sobbed, his eyes lost on the carpet. “You promised” he repeated.

“Baby, I know, but I’m going to figure out a way to get out of here, okay? I’ll get in touch with the embassy and they’ll--”

“I get it, I really dol” Saeran interrupted you. “Why would you want to stay with me? I’m nothing”

“You’re everything to m--”

“I’m better off dead. I’m not useful”

In those past days, you would reaffirm him constantly and his mood would get better with your sweet words but it didn’t seem to be working anymore. You whispered a curse, forcing yourself to come up with a solution that could work with the state Saeran was in.

After a minute of watching your boyfriend crying, you thought of an alternative. It wasn’t your best idea and it hurt to even think about doing that, but maybe it was to only way to bring him back. To bring him home.

“Hey!” you yelled, your heart breaking and how he winced. You furrowed your eyebrows, trying to appear serious. “Yes, you heard me. Stand up!” you commanded in a raspy voice.

Saeran did as told, his shoulders slumped, looking like a prey that had nowhere else to run.

You swallowed thick. “Sit on the chair” you said, watching him sit on the computer chair, tears still falling from his face, quietly sobbing. You would have never wanted to raise your voice at him for anything in the world, never wanted to damage something as precious as him. But at least he was off the floor now. You took a deep breath and softened your expression, coming closer to your camera.

“You’re not in Mint Eye anymore” his head shot up, looking at you, eyes open wide. “You are free now. You’re not a Believer, you’re not Ray, you’re Saeran Choi and you’re a free man. You are no longer there. We got out of there. You and me, remember?” you asked, smiling softly at him. “I told you I would always be with you and I still am. We’re free now, Saeran”.

Saeran kept looking at you, his eyebrows slightly furrowing, his lip twitching just a bit as he was processing the information you had given him.

“Who am I?” you asked. He looked at his screen, taking notice of the features of your face. From your eyes, your nose, your mouth and your braided hair on a side.

“You’re MC” he whispered, unsure.

“I’m MC. And you’re Saeran”.

He nodded in silence. You noticed how his shoulders were moving slower, his breathing coming back to normal. Just as you were about to talk once again, Saeran’s door was brought down. Both you and your boyfriend screamed at the sudden noise.

Saeyoung was laying on top of the floor next to a chair that he had apparently used to break his way to his brother’s bedroom. Both you and Saeran stared at him shocked. A couple of seconds later, Saeyoung raised his head and looked at his brother, who was still sitting in front of his computer.

“Good, you’re okay now” he commented and chuckled before resting his head on the floor again. Saeran sighed and got up, trying to help him get up.

“Are you okay?” you asked, watching how Saeyoung was holding his shoulder when he got up.

“Yes, nothing I can’t handle” he waved you off.

“You’re such a moron” Saeran muttered, making you smile softly.

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

After making sure Saeyoung hadn’t dislocated his shoulder, both you and Saeran sat down and tried to come up with a plan. You would get in touch with the Korean embassy in the country you were in, asking if there were flights for korean citizens who wanted to get back home. In the meantime, you FaceTimed every chance you could, even if you weren’t doing anything in particular.

The system worked. From day one, you would set up an alarm and call Saeran by the time he usually woke up in the morning and you both would spend time laying on the bed and talking a bit. You both would carry your phones with yourselves, feeling as if you both were together as you prepared breakfast or dinner. You would watch movies together a lot, preferring to share a screen instead of using Netflix Party so you could look at each other while also watching the movie.

Saeran was a little sad the third day away from you, which was the day you announced the embassy hadn’t set a day for the air charter flight. You assured him you had signed up to be informed as soon as they set the date. For safety reasons, you had to be in quarantine in Korea for another two weeks before you could return home, so you asked Saeran to wait for you a little bit longer.

However, it seemed the video calls were really working for his mood. He had stayed calm and patient, even if one day you had excused yourself because the internet in your hotel room wasn’t working well. You told him you had asked to be moved to a different room with better signal and the next day, you gave him a little tour of your new room.

You would chat everyday with Saeyoung, making sure Saeran was doing as okay as he seemed and that he was taking his medications. He promised to keep an eye on him but reassured you he was doing just fine. He was a little sad, yes, but whenever you called him his eyes would light up. You felt incredibly thankful he hadn’t had had another episode.

On the seventeenth day, you called Saeran, who was still in bed. He connected his earphones, wanting a little privacy and accepted the call.

“Good morning!” you sing-sung, holding your phone in front of you. Saeran smiled softly.

“Good morning. What’s with that background?” he asked, looking at the customized background you were using for the video call.

“Oh, it’s Van Gogh’s ‘Starry Night’. Thought it looked classy” you explained. “So, how did you sleep?”

“Meh” Saeran shrugged. “How about you?”

“I couldn’t sleep much either. I have big plans for today and was a little excited” you confessed with a small laugh. Saeran raised an eyebrow.

“Plans?”

“Big plans!” you repeated, laughing. “You want a clue?”

“Sure” he replied. He shifted on the bed, trying to get more comfortable to continue the call, but when he looked back at his phone, he noticed the call had ended. Saeran looked at the notification bar and noticed he had no Internet connection. He huffed, annoyed.

“Saeyoung, what the hell did you do to the router?” he complained, getting up. He didn’t know what Saeyoung had done this time with his hacking activities but if he had messed the internet connection somehow, there was going to be a big fight.

He didn’t expect to see you when he opened his bedroom door.

“I got a flight back” you simply said, holding your phone against your chest. Without being able to restrain any further, you jumped to his arms, hugging him tightly and kissing the side of his head repeatedly. You felt your boyfriend’s arms around your back, holding you so tightly it was a little painful.

“How…?” he whispered, burying his face in the crook of your neck. You felt how his whole body was trembling underneath you. You were trying your best not to cry, but you didn’t think you were going to last long.

“Jumin has contacts in the Korean Embassy so he managed to get me a ticket for the closest flight. All this time I’ve been in quarantine in this hotel downtown, they tested me after those fourteen days and I’m healthy so I could go back home. I wanted to surprise you” you explained, finally letting him go and looking at his face. Cue the tears. “I missed you so much” you whimpered, kissing him softly, as if to make sure he was really there.

“Welcome home” he whispered, making you smile at him and kiss him one more time.

“Sooooo, can I turn the router back on?” Saeyoung asked from the living room, making you chuckle in between the kiss. You pulled apart from Saeran.

“Yes, please do. We’re going back to bed, I need some sleep” you announced, grabbing your boyfriend’s hand and closing the door behind you.

You both slept all morning. You were finally home.