#alternative caption hit him with your car!!!!

[ayilings]

every day is yuri day if you’re not a coward

[koqabear]

Pretty Privilege (and its complications…)

♫: California Gurls, Katy Perry // Icky, Kard

“You love your boyfriend more than anything; so much so that you decide to pay a visit to him while he‘s on duty, a perfect excuse to gawk at his perfect form and charming self. Unbeknownst to you (like always) the act only causes Taehyun to stress, forced to watch you attract attention like a magnet and have people flirt with you left and right— even your understanding boyfriend has his limits, you know.”

lifeguard!Taehyun x fem!reader

Genre: established relationship, beach au, fluff, smut

Word count: 9.6K

warnings: bimbo/ditzy/feminine mc, mc is called a queencard bc idk, mc gets horny every three seconds, mc has nipple peircings and insane pretty privilege, (I have nothing to say for myself.) everyone in this damn beach wants her, she gets hit on by both men and women. alcohol consumption, (no one gets drunk) use of pet names (baby, my girl etc.)  and the words boyfriend/girlfriend, lowkey public indecency.. teasing, possessiveness, a little jealousy. 

smut warnings: dom!taehyun, sub!mc semi-public sex, marking, thigh riding, degrading, possessiveness (again!), rough sex, biting, breast play, grinding, oral (f. rec) multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, strength kink, tae picks the mc up, praise, dacryphilia, creampie (lemme know if I should add anything!)

Notes: alternate title: my strange addiction (kang taehyun) this fic is nawt meant to be taken seriously!! (I blacked out halfway through writing and editing this) Can you tell that I have tropes that just have a deathly chokehold on me? Embarrassing…

Kang Taehyun feels his heart stop the moment he sees your car pull up. 

A peaceful, thirty-minute break quickly turns into a meditation session the moment he sees your hot pink Porsche convertible pull up, straight from a Barbie movie as the fuzzy dice that hang from the mirror bounce around— even from the top of the hill where the parking lot is at, he’s still able to spot you with eerie ease.

You’re as energetic and bubbly as ever as you exit the car, laughing with your friends as you fail to notice Taehyun’s heated stare; your friends however, are much quicker to catch him, sharing knowing looks amongst themselves and laughing softly. 

His face feels hot as he quickly looks back down, his gaze downcast as he goes to scroll on his phone as a distraction— like instinct, he opens Instagram, your newest story popping up on his feed as he finds himself gulping nervously. 

Beach day!! >v< the picture is captioned, your bright smile practically blinding as you pose with your friends— you practically steal the spotlight with ease however, especially when you’re wearing a pink halter top with a Hawaiian flower pattern that exposes your breasts perfectly, the dip allowing your gold necklaces to rest in between. 

God, Taehyun sighs, running a hand through his hair as he hears your bubbly laugh from a distance, it’s so difficult having such a hot girlfriend.

A hot girlfriend who’s practically an influencer, he adds, counting down the minutes before he has to go back on duty as he remembers how successful your social media page has become. You didn’t mean to do it on purpose— you simply wanted to document your life and style like any other person would— but it seems as though you attracted much more attention than you anticipated.

A few hundred thousand followers and plenty of sponsorships later, however, you quickly found yourself titled a true “queencard”— not that you wanted to be, anyway. 

You took your newfound “fame” with a grain of salt however, living your life as normal and continuing to document your lavish and busy lifestyle— in turn, Taehyun asked you to keep your relationship on the more private side. 

It wasn’t that Taehyun didn’t want to be seen with you; if anything, he adored showing you off, enjoying the way no one could take their eyes off you whenever you entered a room— off his girlfriend. He was very vocal about the love and pride he held for you, but he also preferred to keep his life away from the media. And like the angel you are, you accepted his wishes without any hesitation. 

Like Taehyun, you absolutely adored your partner; you were quite obsessed with him, honestly. If he’d let you, you’d fill your feed with him, your camera roll that was already filled with pictures of him begging to be posted as your mind told you that he could be an influencer as well— because who were you kidding, he’s so smoking hot. 

“Girl, you need to stop staring before you start drooling,” Chaewon says, helping Wonyoung unload the bags from the car as they begin to laugh and tease you. You simply whine at her comment, biting your lip before you force yourself to look away; how could someone look so attractive by just scrolling on their phone?

“I can’t help it,” you cry, taking a beach bag from Wonyoung in order to help, “he’s just sooo hot!” 

“And you let us know every time,” Wonyoung laughs, nudging your side as she gestures toward the beach before her, “don’t you at least wanna get closer?” 

Like an eager puppy, you nod, getting a head start as you walk down the steep path towards the beach; you can hear your friends yelling at you to be careful, but all you can currently think about is Taehyun— Taehyun and his rippling muscles, Taehyun and his tan skin that’ll be left exposed to the hot sun, Taehyun and his chain that you love to tug on when he’s on top of you…

Oh my god, you realize with dread, your thighs rubbing together as you stop to wait for your friends, I’m so horny right now. 

The curse of having such a hot boyfriend— you literally got soaking wet from the very thought of him. 

The last thing you would do is have your friends realize, however, much too embarrassed to let them in on your more intimate thoughts as you scan the beach, looking past the groups of people for a good spot to settle down; lucky for you, you find a spot between the lifeguard tower and a concessions stand. 

“Here here here!” You yell, running towards the spot without hesitation as your friends are forced to keep up; you ignore the feeling of the sand slipping into your sandal pumps, much more distracted by the fact that you’ll be able to see your boyfriend on duty. 

Taehyun, ever the innocent victim of your antics, remains clueless as to where you’re setting up at the moment; he sits at the tables on the other side of the concession stand, still scrolling through his phone as he counts down the minutes before he’s on duty once more— sighing, he looks up from his device, his eyes scanning the hill before him as he inevitably finds your car— he can’t help but frown once he sees that you’re no longer there. 

Where could you have run off to, he wonders, walking over to the headquarters in order to go back on rotation— he’s unable to stop thinking about you, already dreading how much of a distraction you’ll be to him as he makes his way over to his platform— only to stop, his breath stuttering as he sees the very sight he’s been dreading. (See: fantasizing.)

You’re wearing that same denim mini-skirt that always drives Taehyun crazy— actually, you’re not even wearing it anymore, his teeth sinking into his lip as he watches you strip innocently. The bikini bottom you wear matches your top, the same pink with the Hawaiian flower pattern; the shameful excuse of a bottom barely covers you, yet you don’t really seem to notice as you tie a sheer beach skirt around your hips. 

Dangerously, you pull your shirt over your head; and if Taehyun wasn’t flustered enough by your bottoms, the matching top definitely did the trick— how it barely managed to cover you almost impressed Taehyun, his mouth drying as he took note of the way you tied all the strings into cute little bows, adorning your hips and back as your friends complimented you over the cute set— puffing your chest out proudly, Taehyun swore he almost fell to his knees as he took note of the piercings that poked through the thin fabric. 

Oh god. He’s screwed. 

You and your friends are quick to set everything up; you’re eager to lay back against the towel as Wonyoung runs to the ocean, yelling at the two of you to go with her as she laughs with joy. 

“No thanks, I’ll stay here,” you say, getting comfortable as you stretch under the sun, the warmth making you smile as you reassure Chaewon, “Actually, I think the place over there has a mini bar— I might go get a drink.”

With one last goodbye and a yell along the lines of get me one, I’ll meet you there! Chaewon leaves, sand kicking up behind her as she begins to chase after Wonyoung; the two look beyond happy as they enter the water, the sight endearing as you finally get up. 

Unbeknownst to you, Taehyun watches like a hawk; he couldn’t get his eyes off you even if he wanted to, the sway of your hips and the shining sun on your skin much too enticing as he watches you leave, bitterly taking note of the way the men nearby begin to drool over you. 

Taehyun isn’t an insecure person— he’s far from it, and he knows damn well that you’d choose him over any other man on this beach. But he’s also tempted to run after you, to claim you as his and show everyone just how much you like him— but he remains professional, feeling his ears turn red as he snaps out of his lewd fantasies.

You haven’t even talked to him, but he’s already feeling desperate for you. 

Being a lifeguard has its perks— today’s perk comes in the form of his tall seat, being able to get a good look at the whole beach, and you. More specifically, the way you cutely lean against the counter of the bar, pouting like always as you take a second to stare at the menu. 

“So…” you trail off, pursuing your lips before you’re smacking your lips, tapping your ID rhythmically against the wood as you feel the worker staring at you intently, “I’ll just have two margaritas. And a water. Please?” 

The worker before you is bright and quick to work as he nods, stumbling over his feet for a second before he’s making you your drink; you don’t think you’ve ever seen someone work so fast as he hands you your order, sliding over an ice cold water bottle as well.

“Thank you! How much do I owe you?” You exclaim, placing your purse over the counter as you begin to dig for your wallet; only for him to interrupt you, stuttering out a quiet Oh, wait, as you look up at him with innocent doe eyes, waiting for him to continue.

“It’s on the house,” he smiles, watching as you can only let your jaw drop at his words; unsure of what to do, you glance back at your order, left speechless as you take a second, only to look back up at the worker in surprise.

“Really?” You ask breathily, tilting your head as you lean in closer to read their name tag— Jay simply nods, smiling sweetly as they reassure you that you don’t need to pay, “Oh, you’re so sweet!” 

You’re laughing at the way Jay turns slightly red, surprised at his kind act as you ask one last time if it’s really okay— he reassures you once more, opening his mouth to say something before another customer is approaching, taking his attention as he reluctantly leaves your side. 

Taking a sip of your drink, you can’t help but feel the smile stuck on your face as Chaewon finally appears to join you; she’s soaking wet as she stands with you under the shade of the bar, thanking you with a cute smile as she takes the margarita you hand her. 

“How much? I’ll pay you back,” Chaewon says, gesturing at the drink before her as you simply shake your head in response. 

“No need. It was free!” You say, giggling at the way Chaewon looks at you incredulously.

“Free?” She echoes, watching as you only nod eagerly in response, “how?” 

“Dunno,” you say, licking at the rim that’s dusted with sugar, “that Jay guy was just really sweet!” 

“Or attracted to you,” Chaewon muses, nudging you playfully as she gives you a mischievous grin— she laughs as you shake your head defensively, painfully unaware of your pretty privilege as you fail to notice the way Jay glances back at you, clearly hoping to talk to you again.

“I got this for Wonyoung,” you say, gesturing to the cold water bottle that’s currently dripping over the counter, “gonna go give it to her, wanna come with?” 

Chaewon shakes her head, gesturing to her unfinished drink as she tells you to go ahead; watching you go ahead, she waits for you to get out of earshot, turning to the employee before she’s narrowing her eyes at him.

“Can I get a water please?” 

Without another glance, Jay nods— “That’ll be one-fifty.”

Barking out a laugh, Chaewon grins, proving her theory right as she watches Jay turn red from the realization that she caught on— being friends with you proved to come with more benefits than she realized, she thinks, biting back another smile as she goes to drink her margarita. Turning around, she watches you fondly— and more specifically, the way you begin to walk past the volleyball game that’s going on, making your way back to your setup as the men playing begin to take notice of you. 

“Hey baby,” a man calls out, drawing your attention as you simply hum politely in response, “Why don’t you come play with us?” 

You can only muster out a soft laugh at that, shaking your head as you ignore the way your body begins to heat up from all the attention; shyly, you refuse their offer, unsure of what to say as you feel their eyes taking you in slowly. 

“Oh, I’m not that good,” you say, shaking off their amused laughs as you hold Wonyoung’s water bottle close to you, feeling the perspiration drip onto your forearm, “I probably wouldn’t be very useful on your team.” 

Your response is genuine; you know you’re not good at volleyball after countless failed attempts to learn, much more content sitting on the sidelines and watching your perfect boyfriend absolutely dominate during his games— the thought is enough to have you fighting back a fond smile, brought back to reality by the way the man talking to you takes a step closer to you.

“ ‘s okay, I can teach you,” the man grins, spinning the volleyball expertly in his hands as his teammates nod in agreement. You’re unsure of how to refuse them now, but a sudden sharp whistle is taking all of your attention as your head whips to the source of the sound. 

You practically feel like an overexcited puppy as you spot Taehyun, on duty and scolding a group of teenagers for who-knows-what. Without another thought, you run over to him, leaving the group of men who can only call for you to wait— their words fall deaf on your ears as you feel your heart beating faster, calling out his name and watching as he finally spots you running over to him. 

“Hyun!” You say, waving cutely as you watch him smile fondly at you— you think your heart could burst as you practically jump into his arms, feeling him stumble back from the impact as you throw your arms around his neck fondly. 

“Taehyun!! Baby, hi!!” You say, bouncing on your feet as you pull away to pepper kisses on his cheek; all he can do is laugh as he falls victim to you, muttering a soft “okay, okay” as he pats your back fondly. 

“Baby, baby, I’m still working,” Taehyun reminds you, watching you pull away with a small oh right, that tumbles from your lips. His hands are still on your waist as his fingers trace over the fabric of your beach skirt, and you can’t help the way you burst into giggles as you take him in. 

“What, what’re you laughing at?” He asks, brows raising as he tilts his head curiously; you can only shake your head, wiping the bottom of your lip as you attempt to calm down. 

“My lip gloss is all over you,” you say, watching as he simply laughs at your comment, his dimple on display as he reaches up to rub at his cheek— it barely works, but he doesn’t seem to mind much as he finally lets go of you.

“Did you get yourself a drink, pretty?” He says, nodding his head at the water bottle you hold in your hands; you nod, smiling happily as you recount the events that happened in your head. 

“Yeah, the worker there is super sweet,” you gush, glancing back at where you see Chaewon still leaning against the counter, waving at you happily as you’re quick to return the gesture, “he gave me my drinks for free.”

“Did he now?” Taehyun asks, raising a brow at you as he watches you nod innocently. Glancing back at the shop, he sees Jay, who can only avert his eyes and hide from his sight. Looking back at you, his gaze softens as he takes in the way you practically glow under the sun, “that’s very nice of him.” 

Taehyun wishes nothing more than to be able to go back off duty and enjoy his time with you; instead, he needs to wait another four hours before he can properly show you just how happy he is to see you— unbeknownst to you of course, much too eager to be outside on such a nice day as you ramble about things with no clear end in sight. 

“I need to go back to work, baby,” Taehyun sighs, smiling at the way you begin to whine immediately, “I know, I know— I wish I wasn’t working today either.” 

Bringing you in closer, he places a soft kiss on the tip of your nose before he’s taking a step back, the dazed smile you send him enough to have his heart fluttering as he returns it without a thought.

“ ‘m just happy I get to see you.”

His words clearly affect you as you attempt to stutter a response, hitting him with a whine the moment he tries to laugh at you fondly— you can tell he’s reluctant to leave, but the same group of teenagers as before seem to be causing a ruckus once more as he sighs, bidding you goodbye before he’s off. 

You can only stand and stare with dismay, pouting as you watch him turn his back to you— his toned, broad back, with a waist so small you’d do anything to wrap your arms around it— or even better, your legs…

You groan as the same dangerous train of thought begins to hit you, your eyes squeezing shut as you force yourself to turn around— to walk straight to where Wonyoung lays without glancing back at your boyfriend, the task much harder than you’d think as you hear his sharp voice scolding the group of teenagers.

He sounds so hot, you think to yourself, wanting nothing more than to run away with your man and have him fuck you stupid behind the concession stand, oh my god, I want him so bad. 

“Wow, this thing is freezing,” Wonyoung says, taking the water bottle from your hands gratefully. Watching as you slump down next to her, Wonyoung pauses, trying to guess what might be wrong before she follows your line of sight.

“Ah,” she mutters, taking a long drink from her water before she sighs, “Are you sad you can’t talk to your boyfriend?”

“He’s being professionalll,” you groan, throwing a hand over your eyes as you lay back, the pout forming on your face second nature at this point, “I just wish he’d stay over here!” 

“It’d be a danger to the public if he just stopped doing his job,” Wonyoung reasons, watching the way you reluctantly agree with her, “plus, it was your idea to visit while he was on duty.”

“I didn’t think he’d look so fucking hot!” You admit, crossing your arms over your chest in defeat as Wonyoung simply laughs in amusement. Opening your eyes, you’re surprised to find Chaewon looming over you, a smile on her face as she takes her seat on her towel beside you. 

“You always think he looks hot. Also, the bartender over there totally wants you.” Chaewon pipes up, calling Wonyoungs name as she gestures to the water bottle in her hands before gesturing back to the mini-bar.

“Don’t tell me,” Wonyoung says, staring down at the item in her hand as Chaewon nods in confirmation, “wow, that’s pretty impressive.”

“It’s nothing, he was just being nice!” You refute, ever an airhead and your friends simply shake their heads in response, “It’s true!” 

“He didn’t bother looking back in my direction once you left,” Chaeryeong points out, glaring playfully at Wonyoung who laughs at her comment, “not to mention, those guys playing volleyball were literally drooling over you.”

“Wait, I saw that— I was kind of scared for a second,” Wonyoung admits, Chaewon nodding along as she confesses that she was about to jump in when you finally managed to escape, “you’re so lucky you managed to leave before things got weird.”

To be honest, you stopped listening around that last part— well, it’s not like you weren’t listening, it’s more like you weren’t really contributing to the conversation as you take notice of Taehyun, more specifically the way he’s playing with a child around the shallow end of the ocean, watching as he manages to make the child laugh, his eyes bright and fond as he takes good care of the toddler.

The sight practically has you melting, and you’re forced to bite your lip to suppress your smile— but then again, you’ve never really been good at hiding things— especially with the way you find your friends looking in the direction you are, the two of them sporting knowing smiles as they exchange a look. 

“Oh girl,” Wonyoung sighs, going to lay on her back as she puts on her sunglasses, “you’re drooling again.” 

Shit, you totally were. 

-♡-

The next three and a half hours pass by painfully slowly— for Taehyun, at least. 

It seems that you’re finally able to take your eyes off him after a period of adjustment, and he’s able to watch from his post as you enjoy yourself in the ocean, splashing around with your friends as the three of you have fun and remain carefree.

Carefree is probably one of the last words Taehyun would use to describe himself at the moment— it was a given that being a lifeguard was unpredictable and difficult, but being on duty while having his hot girlfriend that attracted attention like a magnet there with him was next-level. 

He couldn’t even begin to count the number of times someone managed to hit on you in the past hour— from what he saw, at least— it was ridiculous, really, even more so because you were never able to pick up on it. Ever. 

Taehyun couldn’t take his eyes off you for one second without a new person approaching you; he chalks it up to both your beauty and the fact that you’re one of the most approachable people Taehyun has ever met.

He’s never been happier to own sunglasses than today— or else you definitely would’ve caught him watching carefully as a random woman your age  offered to put sunscreen on you, your friends back in the ocean as you opted to take a moment to rest under the sun instead. 

“Your swimsuit is so cute,” she told you, her voice filled with a flirty lilt as it managed to travel to Taehyun’s ears; you had been as clueless as ever, holding your top up with your hands as you allowed her to untie your string and lotion your back— he tried to give this random stranger the benefit of the doubt, but it was really difficult to with the way she massaged you gently and leaned over to speak into your ear. 

“Are you single?” The implications of her words barely registered in your head before thoughts of Taehyun were overpowering your brain, a smile involuntarily tugging at your lips as you tried to hold back your giddy giggles in order to answer. 

“She’s not.”

You could feel the woman’s hands still on your shoulder as the two of you looked up, your smile only widening as your eyes met Taehyun’s— at least you think, he was currently wearing sunglasses. (Which he looked really hot in, of course. You think you would’ve jumped on him by now if it weren’t for the risk of you flashing the entire beach.)

“Oh, I’m sorry,” the woman behind you said, laughing nervously as she quickly went to stand; you couldn’t help but be confused by the way she hurriedly said goodbye to you, but all your questions were answered once you turned around to meet Taehyun’s irritated face, his brows pulled together in a frown as he let out a soft tsk. 

“Hyun, are you jealous?” The question is enough to have him snap out of his daze, blinking wildly behind his shades before he’s pushing them up and onto his head, pushing his wet hair back and exposing his forehead as he did; looking down at you, he can’t help but soften at the sight of you and your cute wide eyes, letting out a soft chuckle before he’s patting your head fondly. 

“No, I’m not.” 

You watch as he settles down behind you, taking the previous woman’s spot as he murmurs for you to turn around. You’re facing forward once more, taking in the pretty sight of the beach as you shift on your knees, sitting back on your legs as you wait for him to do something. 

“You looked pretty jealous,” you muse, looking down to watch as he takes the sunscreen bottle that was left at your side; the smell of the lotion fills your senses once more as you hear him open it, squeezing some on his palm as the sound of his airy laugh reaches your ears. 

“Well, it’s not exactly nice to watch another person feeling up my girl,” he reasons, watching as you straighten up at his comment, “why didn’t you ask your friends for help baby?” 

“Mmmh, they’re busy and she offered to help,” you confess, shivering at the feeling of the cold lotion against your shoulders, “and she was not feeling me up.” 

Unbeknownst to you, Taehyun can’t help but feel frustrated at your comment— your naivety made it difficult to make a point sometimes, and this was one of those moments as he was unable to stop the deep sigh that escaped him. 

“She wasn’t?” He asks, and you can’t help but gasp as you feel his touch become further; fingers digging into your flesh, massaging your shoulders tenderly as he leans in close to whisper into your ear, his hands roaming your body so slowly you think you might melt, “so what do you feel now that I’m doing it?” 

Horny. 

“I… I feel like I’m in the wrong,” you admit, stuttering softly as he begins to come back up to your shoulders, his dainty hands going past your collarbones and down your arms; slowly, he makes his way down, leaning forward as he does so until he’s pressed firmly against your back— his firm chest against your back, his hands reaching for your own as he interlocks his fingers with yours. 

You can feel his hair tickle against your neck as he presses a slow kiss against the back of your shoulder, biting your lip as you fight back the desperate whine that threatens to escape from you. 

“Glad you realize,” he laughs softly, letting go of you and sitting back as he takes a moment to inspect the beach; you can’t help the sadness that fills you as he begins to stand, only to pause as he notices your dejected state.

“Do you need any more help?” He asks slowly, watching as you nod happily before you’re laying down across the towel; he thinks he might lose his job as you look back at him, batting your eyes prettily as you send him a coy smile.

“Do the rest for me?” 

Taehyun hesitates. On one hand, it wasn’t very professional of him to lotion up his incredibly gorgeous girlfriend while on duty— not that the public was aware of the fact that you two were together, anyway— but on the other hand…

“How could I say no to you,” Taehyun sighs, kneeling at your side and taking the lotion bottle from you as he decides fuck it— he has half an hour left anyway. 

Your skin is warm to the touch; both of you are sighing in contentment the moment his hands meet your skin, massaging the lotion into the rest of your back as he tries to remain as professional as possible. 

You, on the other hand, are not doing that great. 

If there’s one thing that tests your self-control more than anything, it’s Taehyun— especially Taehyun that has his hands all over you, his touch firm and soothing as he begins to massage the back of your thighs— if he sees you squeeze them together, he doesn’t bother to let on, your mind fogging with horrible and lewd thoughts that would have your boyfriend red and flustered within seconds. 

The last of your resolve crumbles the moment his fingers ghost over your waist; dipping under the skimpy string of your bikini bottom, reaching toward the back before he begins to cop a feel— you can feel your breathing begin to pick up as he’s moving up, tickling against your sides before he’s reaching past your top; fingers massaging against the sides of your breasts, cupping what he can before he’s squeezing coyly. Flustered, you bury your head into your arms, listening to the way he laughs teasingly, his hands drifting away just as quickly as they appeared before he’s going to ask you if you’re alright teasingly. 

“I need you,” You whine, the words muffled against your arms as you dig your head deeper into your arms.

“Hmm?” 

This seems to be your last straw; sitting up, you scramble to keep your top on as you turn around to face Taehyun, taking him in in all his sun-kissed glory, sure that you look beyond flustered and destroyed by now. 

“Taehyun, I need you so bad,” you whine out, scooting closer to him as you watch his eyes widen with your unhinged rambling, “I’ve been trying to be good this whole time and distract myself, but it’s so fucking hard because I’ve been wet from just looking at you— Hyun baby, I’m so hmmf—!”

Taehyun is impressed by how easily you’re able to fluster him— he’s sure his ears are completely red as he presses his palm firmly against your mouth, taking in the way you look at him with wide, teary, and fucked out eyes. 

He takes a deep breath in order to control the dangerous feeling of desire that flows through him. 

Exhaling deeply, he takes a second to look at the clock posted by the headquarters— he feels his body relax with relief as he slowly pulls his hand away from you, giving you a warning look before he gestures at the time.

“Fifteen minutes,” he says, leaning in and muttering the words in his deep, glorious voice, “can you be good for me for another fifteen minutes?” 

You think you might die if you don’t take him right now. 

“Yeah,” you breathe out shakily, watching as Taehyun laughs at your pathetic state. 

“Good,” he says, standing up and getting ready to leave before another lifeguard realizes he’s been talking to you this whole time, “just wait for me, baby.” 

You’re a bit dejected as you watch him leave you, back to being his perfect and professional self as he spots abandoned swimming equipment from the rental shop; he can feel your heated gaze on him the entire time, forced to stifle a laugh as he glances back in your direction curiously— you’re shamelessly staring, a pout on your face as you carefully re-tie your top once more. 

Please, you think to yourself, choosing to lie back against your towel and clear out your thoughts, your eyes fluttering shut as you take a deep breath, please let these next fifteen minutes pass quickly. 

-♡-

Taehyun knows the exact second his fifteen minutes are up— only because you trot up to him like an excited puppy, your beach skirt flowing in the wind as you wave at him excitedly.

“Will you let me clock out at least?” Taehyun asks, letting out an amused laugh as you immediately attach yourself to his side; you give him a quick nod of your head in response, telling him to lead the way as you refuse to leave him anytime soon.

“Missed you so much,” you say, eyes sparkling as Taehyun can only throw his head back and laugh in bewilderment at your comment, “I’m serious! It’s hard to keep my hands off you, Hyunnie.”

“Don’t worry, I feel the same,” he hums, slowing his steps to place a gentle peck on your cheek, “Wait for me? I’ll only be a moment.”

Nodding happily, you tell him you’ll go get him a drink— you know he could use it, taking in his tired steps as he walks back to headquarters with a sigh— turning around, you spot your friends already at the bar, waving you over as you make your way to them happily. 

“He’s finally off?” Chaewon asks, watching as you nod with a bright smile on your face, “that’s good. You two can spend some time together now— especially now that the sun is beginning to set.”

“Not that you weren’t already,” Wonyoung teases, watching as you try to defend yourself with useless stutters as she continues to poke fun at you. 

“I— can I just get a water?” Giving up on trying to win the argument, you turn back to the same worker from earlier, watching as Jay jumps in surprise the moment your eyes meet his. 

“Oh, of course,” he mutters, placing the ice-cold refreshment before he clears his throat, face turning red as he avoids eye contact with you, “you don’t owe me anything, we’re closing soon and the register is already locked.”  

Letting out an embarrassed laugh, you can’t help but glance at your friends, feeling your face become hot as they send you sly looks; Jay seems to be just as flustered as you, bowing politely before turning around and resuming his closing tasks— biting your lip, you suppress another laugh, your friends already mouthing things along the lines of I told you so, as you simply push them playfully, looking around to see if Taehyun has come back yet. 

“This for me baby?” Taehyun’s hand is warm on your waist as he appears behind you, looking over your shoulder and smiling as you eagerly hand him the water bottle in return. 

He’s quick to drink, much thirstier than he realized as he practically begins to gulp it down; he can feel your stare on him the whole time, fighting back a smile as he closes his eyes in an attempt to ignore it. 

He looks like a model, you think, watching him fondly with hearts in your eyes; the day hasn’t looked nicer than it does now, the beach almost empty now that the sun has almost set and the weather growing cooler as the waves crash against the shore, the golden rays of the sun practically leave Taehyun glowing. Playfully, he pushes you away, unable to hold back his laugh any longer as he scolds you to stop staring! You can only laugh sheepishly as you try to deny doing so, but you know he’d never believed you from how clingy you’ve been with him all day. 

“You’re so sweet Jay,” Taehyun smiles, the said male practically jumping out of his skin at the mention of his name; turning around slowly, he laughs awkwardly, meeting eyes with Taehyun, who snakes an arm around your waist and pulls you closer as he tilts his head teasingly, “for not charging my girl. I appreciate it.” 

“Yeah, of course,” Jay stutters, eyes downcast as he feels his face burning from the attention, “figured it was for you, so I didn’t bother ringing it up.” 

Taehyun only hums in appreciation at the man’s comment, slightly irritated at the way he’s able to lie through his teeth so easily; turning away from him, he takes the chance to look at you, smiling fondly and leaning in for a chaste kiss that has you melting against him. 

“Gross. Get a room you two,” Chaewon scoffs, covering Wonyoung’s eyes playfully as the two tease you endlessly. 

“Gladly,” Taehyun smiles mischievously, rolling his eyes at the way your friends gag in response, pulling you against him as you steady yourself with a hand on his chest, “mind if I steal her away from you guys for a bit?” 

“Go ahead,” Chaewon says, waving the two of you away with ease, “bring her back in one piece, please.” 

I’ll try, is all Taehyun says, pulling you along and laughing at the way you eagerly follow along with one last goodbye to your friends, clueless to the way Taehyun’s jaw ticks with annoyance as he pulls you away from your friends— and right towards headquarters, making his way to the back of the building, secluded by trees and the hill you came from.

“Tae, what’re we doing here—?” Your sentence is briefly cut off with Taehyun’s mouth against yours, the kiss harsh and desperate as you quickly become a mess of spit, moaning weakly against Taehyun’s mouth as he sinks his teeth into your bottom lip. 

The string of saliva that connects you two as he pulls away has you whining breathily, steadying yourself with two hands placed firmly on his shoulders as you allow him to corner you, walking backward as his firm hold on your hips forces you to be pressed against the wall. 

“You drive me so fucking crazy,” he growls in frustration, attaching his lips right under your ear as he begins to suck— you’re gasping in response, clinging onto him desperately as you already feel your knees become weak. Pulling away from you, his dark gaze meets yours, heated and sharp as he takes in your fucked out state. 

“Do you have any idea how hard it is to have my pretty girl get flirted with by everyone that lays their eyes on her?” He asks, shifting your hips towards him as he slots his thigh between yours with ease, “to just watch it happen because she’s too much of an airhead to realize what’s happening in front of her?” 

The whimper that escapes you from his words is downright embarrassing; but it’s enough to have Taehyun’s lips back on yours, eager to keep you quiet as his fingers begin to play with the strings of your bikini.

If there’s one thing Taehyun is an expert at, it’s pleasing you with every part of his body— which is exactly why he’s able to have you turn into a mess under him in seconds, flexing his thigh and bouncing it as his strong hands force your hips down on him more; he’s controlling your every movement, his grip on you bruising as you wonder if it’ll leave a mark on you later.

“You’re already wet,” Taehyun muses, feeling the way you claw at him uselessly, throwing your head back against the wall as you try to set the pace yourself, only to fail miserably, “barely took anything and you’re already dripping all over me.”  

The pleasure becomes overwhelming as Taehyun begins to litter kisses all over you, biting at you softly as he slowly begins to make his way down to your breasts; with a breathy moan, you jut out your chest, the sight making Taehyun let out an airy laugh as his eyes flicker back up to your face to watch your expression carefully. 

“Such pretty tits,” Taehyun grins, kissing on top of the fabric as he watches your eyes flutter shut, his eyes flickering back down to the metal that pushes against the thin top, “which ones are you wearing today baby?”

“The ones you got me,” you reply, biting your lip as you open your eyes, clouded with lust as you grind a little harder against Taehyun’s thigh, “the heart ones.” 

His warm mouth against your breast is enough to have you letting out a sigh of contentment; a hand immediately threads itself in his hair as you feel his tongue laving over your nipple through the fabric, tracing the jewelry carefully as you jut your chest out to him in response. His hand comes up to slip itself under the fabric of your swimsuit, grabbing your breast and squeezing teasingly before he begins to circle your other nipple. 

You feel dizzy, his touch practically everywhere as your eyes flutter shut, trying your best to keep your noises to a minimum as you bite your lip— but it’s useless, especially with the way he’s practically on you, his warm body on yours as you’re able to feel his erection against you. 

Whining hopelessly, you let go of his hair, allowing your hand to trail down as you get a good feel of his body— his strong muscles, his abs that flex in anticipation as you begin pawing at his swim shorts.

“Please please please,” you cry, slipping a hand past the barriers and stroking his dick slowly, your hips picking up the pace as you hear him groan lowly into your ear, “please fuck me Hyun, I need you so bad and I’ve been waiting so patiently for you…”  

“Have you?” Taehyun asks, relishing in the way your hand struggles to keep a pace, shivering slightly at the way you tighten your grip on him for a second, “because all seen today is the way my little attention whore of a girlfriend can’t survive if my eyes aren’t on her for a second.”

“Did you have fun seeing the way everyone else drooled over you?” He asks, pulling your hand away from him harshly before he’s stepping in between your legs, hooking one of them around his waist before he begins to grind against you, “did you like seeing me jealous, sweet thing?”

“I didn’t mean to,” you gasp, feeling him prod against your entrance as he unties your beach skirt with deft fingers, the cloth fluttering to the ground as he begins to grind against you harder, “I didn’t know—!”

“Oh, you didn’t know?” He mocks, taking pity on you for a second before his gaze is hardening again, “you never know, dumb little thing.”

It’s almost shameful how hard your pussy clenches at his words; you’ve made a mess of your bottom as Taehyun groans, eyes catching the way you’ve left a damp spot already. 

“God, you really can’t control yourself, hmm?” He asks, cooing at you softly as he takes in the way you’ve already begun to tear up. The sound of distant voices has him pausing, and you feel as though you’re afraid to breathe as your wide eyes meet Taehyun’s.

“Did Taehyun leave already?” The voice is immediately recognizable as Taehyun narrows his eyes, listening to Yeonjun, one of the other lifeguards on rotation today, talk to someone else. 

“Yeah… he left a few minutes ago,” Jay responds, and you can’t help but raise a brow as Taehyun takes a step away from you, about to mouth what are you doing? before he’s sinking to his knees before you, throwing a leg over his shoulder as you can only watch helplessly.

“With that one girl?” Yeonjun asks, your eyes widening as you glance over in the direction the sound comes from; you’re quickly brought to the man in front of you as he begins to litter kisses all over your inner thigh, biting the skin softly as he murmurs eyes on me. Shakily, you nod, letting out a shaky breath as the conversation from the two filters back to you two once more.

“Yeah, you saw her?” Jay says— Taehyun’s nimble fingers are undoing the ties of your bottoms with such ease that you can’t help but gasp as the fabric slips off, your pussy left for display as your boyfriend takes in how needy you are with a satisfied smile.

Taehyun’s tongue is warm and teasing as he circles it over your clit, letting his spit coat you freely before he’s pressing firm kisses against your bud— you're forced to slap a hand over your mouth as he begins to suck on it, his tongue running over the sensitive bud as you feel your thighs shaking around his head; his hair is wet and ticklish as it touches the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, and you’re forced to concentrate in order to not let an embarrassing sound slip from your lips.

“Man, of course I did— she was fucking hot,” Yeonjun’s confession is enough to have Taehyun working harder, fingers prodding at your entrance and eagerly stretching you out as you choke back on a moan— in any other situation, you would be loud enough that Taehyun would have to stop to tease you about it, but the thought of either of them hearing you was much too mortifying as Taehyun began to slowly pump his fingers.

Your body said otherwise, however.

“I saw you give her those drinks for free,” Yeonjun teased, and you listened to the way Jay simply groaned at the reminder; you, on the other hand, were forced to remain quiet, your eyes rolling to the back of your head the moment Taehyun added a third finger, picking up his pace and bringing you closer to your high as you began to rock your hips against his face subconsciously, feeling his tongue beginning to wander as it licked all over your pussy— curling his fingers, you sighed, feeling the way he flattened his tongue against your clit before he began to pump his fingers once more. 

“I thought I’d try to make a move on her or something,” Jay confesses, the embarrassed tone to his voice not lost on you as you feel yourself grow hot— your hand presses harder against your mouth as you reach down to thread your fingers through Taehyun’s hair, pulling him closer against your pussy as you subtly try to communicate that you’re close; he seems to get the hint as he does his best to keep his ministrations up, your eyes squeezing shut as their conversation continues to flow into your ears. 

“But that was before I knew she was his girl,” Jay says, sighing as Yeonjun replies with an incredulous seriously? “Yeah, you should’ve seen the way he looked at me when he caught on, man. I was scared for my life.”

You’re sure you know how Taehyun was looking at him— at least, if it’s any resemblance to the way he looks at you now, his eyes filled with pure possessiveness and anger that it has you coming undone in seconds, a weak moan escaping through your hand as you squeeze your eyes shut. Taehyun helps you ride out your orgasm diligently, the lewd sounds of his tongue cleaning you up making you flustered as you cover your face in embarrassment. 

He’s sucking teasing marks all over your inner thighs once more before he’s standing back up, prying your fingers apart gently as he whispers for you to look at him; your eyes are needy as you blink up at him, and Taehyun swears you’ve never looked more beautiful as you practically glow before him, his eyes darkening at the reminder that you’re all his— his coworkers could only dream of getting close to you, let alone having you in the position he does now. 

“My pretty girl,” he sighs out, smiling at the way you throw your arms over his shoulders, bringing him in closer until you’re pulling him in for a tender kiss— it doesn’t last long however, your breathy whines making Taehyun press against your cunt once more, feeling how much wetter it’s gotten as he begins to kiss you senseless.

“My girl,” he repeats, pulling away to trail his kisses down to your neck, beginning to suck carelessly as he feels you reach down to pull his cock out, “all mine. Mine.”

His sudden possessiveness is new to you as you can only remain pliant under him, allowing him to do whatever he wants with you as he finally aligns himself at your entrance; biting your lip, you bury your head in the crook of Taehyun’s neck, squeezing your eyes shut as you feel him tease you— rubbing the head of his cock up and down your slit, feeling the way you clench around nothing as he grinds against you subtly— it’s enough to have you digging your nails into him, whining into his ear that you need more as you feel his tip begin to nudge at your clit; you think you might lose it as you feel his precum drip all over your cunt, your hips shifting toward him involuntarily to try and chase the feeling. 

Your mouth is falling open the moment he’s entering you; stretching you out, sliding in inch by inch as he feels your pussy fluttering around him uncontrollably— he can feel the way you’re gasping against his skin, and he’s hooking your leg over his waist once more as he presses you firmly against the wall of the building. 

You’re shaking like a leaf against him; whining for more, biting and kissing at his skin absentmindedly as you grind against him, your cunt dripping and sucking him in as the thought of keeping quiet slowly escapes your mind.

It’s enough to have Taehyun tugging you back, pulling on your hair teasingly before he’s planting his hand firmly over your mouth— his eyes never leave yours, the conversation of the two men nearby muddled in your ears as Taehyun begins to move. 

It’s slow at first, the grind of his hips against yours allowing his cock to hit deep into you, the wet sounds of your cunt around him making you feel slightly shy before the thought is completely thrown out the window— you could care less of what’s happening around you as he begins to thrust roughly against you, your body rocking from the motion and your eyes threatening to flutter shut as you feel his cock hit against your sweet spot; but you refrain from doing so, much more entranced by his gaze as he slowly begins to pick up the pace, the sounds that come from you getting more difficult to muffle as you feel yourself getting overwhelmed by the pleasure.

The reminder that there are two people that could hear you has you looking over to where they stand, feeling your heartbeat pick up from the anxiety as you eye that direction carefully— you’re quickly snapped back to reality the moment Taehyun is jerking your head back to him gently, tightening his hold on you as his gaze darkens.

“Eyes on me,” he whispers, rolling his hips just the way you like as though to make a point.

Eyes on him. Eyes only on him, you think, struggling to think anything coherent as his hand reaches up to pull your breasts out from your top, the flesh spilling out and beginning to bounce freely from the way Taehyun is fucking you— the heart jewelry that adorns your nipples shine at him, the sight making your boyfriend let out a weak moan as you feel him twitch inside you. 

“So lucky to have you,” Taehyun sighs, reaching over to your other leg as he briefly lets go of your mouth— not before taking one of your hands and placing it over your mouth, pressing his hand firmly over your own as he gives you a stern look— and he hoists you up, leaving you completely at his mercy as he begins to bounce you on his cock, the feeling making you slap your other hand over your mouth as you eyes roll back from the pleasure.

“Stupid little airhead, only has eyes for me,” he rambles, laughing quietly to himself before it breaks out into another moan— he’s practically driving you into the wall behind you as he fucks into you roughly, able to set a much faster pace as he watches your tits bounce in his face lewdly, “god, so glad to have you all to myself— you’re perfect, cute little pussy was made for me.”

You clench down on him at that, feeling as though you’re going crazy from the pleasure— that, and the way your boyfriend looks, feeling your nails dig into your cheeks as you take in his messy, wet hair, his tan skin and muscles that flex from using his strength on you, and his face that’s contorted with pleasure as his lips become bruised with how much he’s biting on them— in an effort to keep himself quiet, he hovers over you, placing his head directly next to yours so he can moan and whisper to you freely. 

“Wanna cum?” He asks, feeling the way you’re beginning to clench uncontrollably; frantically, you nod, tears beginning to pool in your eyes as you look at him with pure desperation in your eyes.

“Tell me you’re mine,” he grins, knowing that you’re too fucked to even speak correctly, “mine, and only mine.” 

You’re trying to choke back on your sounds as you wonder if doing that is even possible— then he slows down, grinding into you and burying his cock as deep as possible as it begins to kiss your cervix— coyly, he leans down, his hair tickling your collarbone as he wraps his mouth around your breast; circling your nipple with his tongue lewdly, covering it in his spit and tracing over the heart-piercing before he’s blowing air on it— you’re shaking from the feeling of him, unsure of how you’ll do what he asks without blowing your cover completely. 

“Hyun…” you whine out quietly for him, sniffling as he slows down his pace, almost stilling inside you as he watches fat tears run down your cheeks with cruel eyes, “Hyun, I’m only yours— I only want you, no one else, promise I only think of you, love you so much…”

The way you’re hiccuping from the effort to choke back on your sounds has Taehyun groaning, taking a deep breath in order not to come before he’s pressing his lips firmly against yours— then he’s resuming his pace, watching as you quickly quiet yourself as your body bounces from how hard he’s fucking you. 

It’s too much— you’re falling apart the moment he’s bringing a hand over to circle your clit, supporting you against the wall and holding you up with his other arm as he watches you fall apart, his mouth opening in a silent moan as you tighten around him, pleading breathily for him to cum inside as you do so. 

“Yeah? Want me to fill you up?” He asks, riding out your orgasm as he buries his head into your neck, “have you dripping with my cum while other people try to flirt with you? Give you a little reminder of who you belong to, fuck…”

With one last harsh thrust, he buries himself deep in you, finally coming undone and filling you up with his hot cum as you moan against your hand— the harsh bite he leaves on the juncture of your neck has you whimpering weakly, hands becoming limp and falling against his chest as he presses the rest of his body against you, holding you up as the two of you pant and try to regain your composure. 

“You’re too good to me,” Taehyun finally sighs out, placing soothing kisses over the place he bit you, listening to the way you laugh softly in response. You’re throwing your arms over his neck as one of them moves to his nape, pulling him away from your neck and bringing him in for a sweet kiss— you’re reluctant to part as you speak, unable to hold back from pecking him between your words as you do so. 

“You’re too good for me,” you say, pausing to give him a kiss, irresistible as always as he laughs breathily at your words, “you’re always putting up with me.” 

“Not your fault you’re irresistible,” Taehyun smiles, watching as you grow shy under his comment despite the fact that he’s still bottomed out inside you, “I still love showing you off.”

“I wanna show you off too, you know,” you pout, hitting his chest gently before you’re pausing, biting your lip uncertainly as you tilt your head, “if you’re okay with that.”

Taehyun realizes quickly what you’re referring to, unable to stop the fond laugh that escapes him as he takes a second to think.

“Sure. I’d like that.” 

It takes a second of you celebrating cheerfully to finally sober up and ask Taehyun to put you down— your legs are wobbly as you feel your face grow hot, his cum immediately leaking out of you as you whine in embarrassment for him to not stare— he can only shake his head in amusement at your antics, helping you clean up with the only thing he’s able to find at the moment. 

“Wait, that’s my favorite beach skirt,” you whine, not putting up much of a fight as Taehyun kneels before you, your leg thrown over his shoulder as he cleans you up, placing gentle kisses along your inner thighs as he does so. 

“I can wash it,” he replies, unable to hide his grimace as he tucks it away in his pocket; the sight is enough to have you giggling, readjusting your swimsuit and fixing your appearance before you’re hiding behind Taehyun, asking him if his coworkers are gone yet.

“The coast is clear,” he hums, scanning the nearly empty beach as he spots your friends sitting by the ocean, chatting idly amongst themselves.

“You don’t think they heard us, right?” You ask, blinking at him innocently as the belief that you did a good job keeping quiet runs through your head— the sight is enough to have Taehyun soften, letting out a sigh before he’s nodding his head.

“Yeah. You were so good for me.”

Taehyun knows better, though— but he doesn’t really mind, because now he knows that he won’t have to worry about either coworker flirting with you the next time you come to the beach. 

[sincerelywhistler]

New month, new continuation

✨PART 4✨ of things my husband does that are so violently Asher Coded, I had to compile a written list and turn them into headcanons:

part 1 • part 2 • part 3

• his phone consistently below 20%. Babe has to plug it in every night cause he sure ain’t gonna

• saw the meme image thing on how to break your thumb ligament by flicking your wrist. Sat in quiet contemplation for a few minutes, visibly weighing the pros and cons of conducting this experiment. Moved on with his day without a word (the smart choice)

• “oh, you know you love meeeeeee” when he senses that he’s getting on my nerves, which is all the time /j of course.. mostly

• yoinks our nintendo switch to romance Sebastian in Stardew Valley every single play-through because it’s against his moral code to leave Tsundere characters un-kissed (what does this say about me)

• sends posts of two animals interacting, no matter what they’re doing, and captions it “this is literally us”

• also sends posts of the most scrungliest and disheveled creatures, captioning it “this is you”

• alternating turns of getting one another ‘just because’ flowers. I originally initiated it, so if Babe did the same, Asher would die I think

• does have a thorough skin/hair/hygiene routine, but will wash his face with Dawn dish soap if he’s tired and it’s more convenient

• conks out the second his head hits the pillow like HOW?? Babe lays there awake, wondering what sorts of dark magic he’s really capable of

• makes a questionable decision, and when anyone begins to address it 0.5 seconds after it happens, he’ll jokingly say “it’s in the past now, that was the old me”

• uses the 😳 emoji in the most confusing and unfitting places, so much so it really makes you rethink the original meaning of his texts?? “Can I take your car today? 😳” “Work let us have some of the leftover chicken for dinner😳”

• can and will turn goof mode off at the drop of a hat when needed. It’s actually kinda scary if you get the chance to experience it bc the whole atmosphere of the room changes

• received a uh *noise complaint* and proceeded to bake AND decorate a whole cake to “celebrate the achievement” (photographic evidence exists)

• but that’s not before fully removing the still beeping smoke detector from the ceiling and handing it to me in a panic, asking me to turn it off because he didn’t know how to (photographic evidence also exists)

• can’t cuddle like a normal person, he has to either suffocate you with the weight of his body or you gotta coddle him like he is oh so fragile and the most delicate of waifs— no in between. Great Dane who thinks he’s a lap dog vibes

• gives the BEST advice and pep talks to people. He‘s studying forensic psychology to be a counselor and I think Ash would make a great counselor or advisor of sorts, just in a more lighthearted environment

• knows he has the pretty privilege card, but only uses it for the most unnecessary reasons? Like of course you can have a some of my pasta you freak I literally made you your own bowl, why are you batting your eyelashes and trying to persuade me via brainwave manipulation

[wr1ter-reader-dreamer]

Waiting (Pt. 1)

Timothee Chalamet x Reader

A/N: This story is an original work of fiction inspired by actors I like. If you like it too, please reblog it and leave a comment. Also check out some of my other works at my master list linked below. I welcome feedback, so let me know how I could make my posts better! Thanks, and enjoy <3 

Masterlist

Part 2  -  Part 3

He had been away filming for months, and it was hard. We had gotten by with late night phone calls and Facetimes, but it was obvious how much we missed each other. Usually I was able to take time off to spend a week or two wherever he was filming, but not this time. This time the director had requested no outside guests, hoping that it would keep everyone focused so they could finish as fast as possible. Never before had I hated his job as much as I did now, but it was his passion, so I tried not to show it.

The calls and Facetimes had been innocent at first. We would end almost every night with a summary of our days, a statement about how much we missed each other, and a declaration of love. Days where we knew we would be too busy to call would see numerous Snapchats with short captions about whatever we were thinking at the moment. Everything was going fine the first month, but then everything changed.

I had been having a particularly hard day at work when I got a text from Timothee to check his Instagram. Curious, I immediately clicked open the app and looked for his most recent post. What I saw had my body instantly heating up.

The picture was a first look of Timmy’s character in the movie. He was dressed in period garb with black leather pants and chainmail. His hair was cut shorter than usual, and he was looking off camera with a serious look on his face. The image radiated power and authority, a look I usually only saw from Timmy in bed.

Sucking in a deep breathe, I attempted to rein in my racing heart. I didn’t bother texting him back, knowing he would see that I had liked the post and that he would know what it had done to me. For now, I tried desperately to focus on my work until I could get home and show him exactly how much I had liked the picture.

That night our FaceTime hadn’t been so innocent. Instead we both showed each other just how much we had missed the other with lowly spoken words of praise and need. After that, all of our conversations had an underlying, if nor outright, sexual tones. It was obvious that we needed each other in a more carnal way that neither of us were bothering to hide.

It was no surprise really that we had come to this. Timothee and I had always had a very active sex life, and that didn’t change just because he was away filming. After almost two years together, we knew all of the alternative ways of getting each other off. If anything, it was surprising that we hadn’t started this earlier.

We continued like this for two months, our calls now ending with breathless “I love you’s” after we were both temporarily satisfied. Neither of us was a stranger to the fact that the tension and sexual frustration was building the longer he was away. I needed him, and he needed me, and the last day of filming could not come fast enough.

Just when I thought I would die from frustration, Timmy announced in an excited call that he would be him in two days. Bubbling with anticipation, I prepared for his arrival. I re-stocked the fridge with all his favorites, changed the sheets on the bed so he could crawl into fresh ones, and even bought a new set of lingerie that I knew he would love.

I took off of work the day he was set to arrive, knowing I wouldn’t be able to focus. Instead I set my focus on preparing for tonight. Timmy’s plane would arrive relatively late, and I knew he would be hungry, so I made his favorite dinner. I also took a shower, shaved, and put on the lingerie under now of his oversized t-shirts so that I was prepared for desert. It was a tradition to spend our first night back together relieving all of our built up tension, no matter how late he got in. 

Finally, I got the text that he had landed and was in a car on his way home. Squealing, I set out dinner on our small table and went to the entry hall to wait. I knew that it would take a while for him to arrive, but I was to excited to do anything else. I had missed my sweet boy more than I ever could have imagined, and I was so happy to finally get to be in his arms again.

Lost in my thoughts about his soft smile and fluffy brown hair, I almost missed the sound of the key turning in the lock. Still, there was no way I could miss the door swinging open to reveal my handsome boyfriend, a large yet tired smile on his face.

“Timmy!” I squealed, rushing into his arms and almost knocking him over in the processes.

He laughed and dropped the bags in his hands so he could wrap his arms around me, “Hi, mon amour.”

Eagerly I pulled back from the hug only to connect my lips with his in a frantic kiss. Pushing up on my toes, I tangled my fingers in the base of his now grown out curls and tugged lightly. He growled, returning my kiss briefly before pulling away with a quick peck.

“I’ve missed you, baby,” he sighed as he smoothed his thumbs over my cheeks and looked at me, “I almost forgot how beautiful you are.”

Rolling my eyes, I nipped playfully at his thumb before stepping away entirely, “I made you dinner.”

“I can smell that,” he smiled, hand trailing down my arm to my own so as to not loose contact. After so long away he didn’t want to let me go for a second, and I was perfectly fine with that. 

I bent down to pick up his bags as I said, “Why don’t you get started, and I’ll take these to our room?”

“Merci, mon cher. Hurry back, though. I miss you.”

Smiling, I nodded. I quickly took his bags to our room and deposited them in our closet before glancing in the mirror. Briefly, I fluffed my hair and smiled, then made my way back to where Timothee was tucking into dinner.

“How was your flight, handsome?” I asked as I sat beside him and tangled my fingers with those of his free hand.

Taking a moment to chew and swallow his bite, he shrugged, “Long and boring. This is really good.”

“You should know by now that I can cook when I want to,” I teased playfully.

He rolled his eyes with a smile, “But you prefer when I do it.”

I shrugged, “Not my fault those French grandparents of yours taught you so well.”

With a laugh and a shake of his head, he reached for the glass of wine by his plate. I watched mesmerized as his long fingers wrapped atone the simple glass and brought it to his lips. His soft lips curled around the rim, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed a large gulp. Then he returned the glass to its place by his plate, and my eyes lingered on his hand.

He had such nice hands. Long fingers, wide palm, perfect for curling inside me or pinning my hands above my head when I was naughty. Instantly my body heated uo, reminding me just how long I had gone without those hands on me.

Timmy must have noticed my gaze because he sighed. Blushing at having been caught, I looked up at him to find an apologetic look on his face.

“What’s wrong?” I asked with a slight frown.

He sighed again and turned slightly to rest his arm on my shoulder and play with the ends of my hair, “I’ve had a really long day, mon amour, and I have to be up really early for a photoshoot tomorrow.”

“So?”

“Baby,” he said softly, abandoning my hair and cupping my cheek, “I can’t tonight.”

“Oh,” I said dejectedly.

“I’m sorry, amour. I know how much we’ve both been looking forward to this, but I need to get some sleep.”

Plastering a small smile on my face, I shook my head, “It’s alright Timmy. I understand, and I can wait.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, leaning down slightly to catch my eye.

“Of course.”

He smiled and pulled me into a big, “Je t’aims, douce fille. Merci.”

“I love you too, Timmy. So much”

And that was how we broke tradition for the first time. Timothee finished his dinner then took a shower while I cleared the table. When I was done, I got ready for bed, making sure that he didn’t see my disappointment. I knew that his job was important, and I didn’t want to make him feel bad. I hadn’t lied. I did understand, and it was fine. I was perfectly capable of waiting. I just didn’t realize how long I’d have to wait.

A/N: There are a second and third part to this, so make sure to hit the link above to read them! And if you’d like to read more of my work, make sure to check out my masterlist, also linked above.

[callboxkat]

Infinitesimal (part 58)

Author’s note: It’s hilarious to me that this happens to come out in July, about as far as possible from Christmas. An alternate title for this part would be Christmas in July.

Warnings: Illness, hospitals, Remus, nsfw mention, mention of getting hit by a car, censored swearing, references to poor family relationships, peer pressure, Christmas stuff

Word count: 5186

Infinitesimal Masterpost!

Writing Masterpost!

...

When Logan got home from the hospital for the second time that day, he went straight to his room. He kicked off his shoes, set a timer on his phone, and turned to the bed. His body thumped on the mattress, and he was instantly asleep.

Two hours later, he was being woken by the song that served as his alarm. Normally, he enjoyed the song; at that moment, it was one of his least favorite sounds in the world.

Logan groaned into his pillow, then reached over and fumbled around on the bedside table, only to realize that he hadn’t actually taken the time to put his phone there before he fell asleep. He lifted his head from the pillow and looked around, finally spotting the device at his side on the comforter. He rolled over and grabbed the phone, silencing the alarm.

He yawned, glanced at the time, and reluctantly got out of bed before he could persuade himself not to. He needed to prepare dinner for himself and the “mouse-men”, and then he needed to go back to the hospital for the third time that day.

With Remus this time.

Logan wasn’t sure how he expected that visit to go. He hoped it would go well, or at least not end in disaster. Remus seemed like a bit of a loose cannon. Plus there was always the fact that he and Roman hadn’t seen each other in a long time, and Logan didn’t know why.

When Logan had gone to drop off Roman’s belongings, Roman had said that he was willing to see Remus sometime after dinner. Logan had texted Roman’s brother afterwards, letting him know the news. Remus and Logan had then agreed that Remus would be at the apartment building at 6:30, and Logan would drive them both over. Sure, Remus technically could have driven himself, but Logan got the feeling that Roman preferred that Logan be there, too.

…

Logan probably shouldn’t have been all that surprised that the knocking began only five minutes after the clock struck 6.

He frowned, pulling his phone out to confirm the time, and sighed, looking back to the “mouse-men”, who until seconds before had been eating their own dinner across from him.

“My apologies,” he sighed. “That must be Roman’s brother. I wasn’t expecting him for another half hour.”

Logan had warned the “mouse-men” that Remus would he returning, of course; but none of them had expected to be interrupted like this.

They seemed to accept that he was telling the truth, although Virgil still made a point of sending a warning glance his way, just in case.

Logan stood up, set his half-finished plate on the chair, and went to get the door.

Remus stood there, wearing a Santa hat and holding one out for Logan to take. Remus’s had lime green leopard fur where the white would usually go, and the one he offered Logan had comically large elf ears.

“Ready to go?”

“Um.” Logan frowned, looking down at the offered hat. “It’s only just past 6. We weren’t going to depart for another half hour.”

“Were we?”

“Yes.”

“Wellllll.” Remus made a face, then shrugged. “We might as well leave now; I’m here.”

“I haven’t finished dinner,” Logan said. “We’ll leave at 6:30, as planned. You can wait in the hall, or in the lobby downstairs.”

Remus pouted, but Logan stood firm.

“Hat?” he said finally, still pouting. He swung the object slightly closer, like he was trying to tempt Logan with it.

Logan sighed and took the hat, having no intentions of actually wearing it. He closed the door and went back to the living room.

“Sorry about that,” he said as he returned to his chair, taking another bite of his dinner.

“So long as he’s not poking around in here again,” Virgil muttered, probably to himself, but notably loud enough that Logan heard.

“Don’t worry; I asked him to wait outside.”

…

Half an hour passed, and Logan was ready to return to the hospital.

He’d expected Remus to have left, to wait down in the lobby; but instead, when he opened the door, there he was in the hall, his back and head on the floor and his legs up on the wall, playing a game on his phone.

“Man,” he sighed, when Logan appeared, “if I knew it’d take this long to get to the hospital, I’d’ve made them give me a ride. I could easily get hit by a car or something. Do you think if I did it right I could do a flip over the—” His gaze moved to Logan then, and he broke off with a frown. “Where’s your hat?”

“Inside.”

Remus didn’t blink.

Logan stared back at him for a second, then walked back into the apartment, grabbed the ridiculous hat, and returned to the hall.

Remus smiled and allowed his legs to slide to one side and thunk down on the floor beside him. He scrambled to his feet.

“Let’s go!”

…

Logan wrinkled his nose.

He and Remus were sitting in the car together. They were more than halfway to their destination, and perhaps Logan should have just let it drop; but an unpleasant odor was getting harder to ignore.

“I hope that one of your presents this year includes some deodorant,” he sighed as they turned onto the block the hospital was on.

Remus hummed. “Sorry, I’m out. I was feeling snackish last night.”

“…What?”

“Kidding. I forgot to pack it.”

“There’s a convenience store not far from the hospital. We’re going to stop there first.”

Remus sighed. “Fine, but they’d better have the good flavors.”

Whatever reply Logan might have given was interrupted by a sudden, loud ding!

…

Remus fished out his phone, turned down his volume, and opened up the new text.

 Unknown Number: [photo message]

 The photo was of Roman, lying down in a hospital bed, with a cannula in his nose. He was smiling crookedly, but he looked exhausted.

Remus wasn’t sure he liked the feeling that the picture made churn about in his stomach, but only a second later, a new message popped up under the first and made him forget it.

 Unknown Number: I lived b*tch

 Remus started cackling.

“Look, look,” he said gleefully, shoving the phone at Logan so the nerd could see.

“I’m driving,” the spoilsport said.

“So pull over!” Remus said, leaning back in his own seat and beginning to type a reply. “I’ve got comedy gold right here.”

 Remus: Your a resilant Grape

Unknown Number: thanks Stinkbug

 “Awww, he remembered,” Remus said. He tried to shove the phone at Logan again, only for him to dodge, leaning away to keep looking at the road. Rude.

 Remus: Getting redy to stink up ur rm

 While he waited for a reply, and occasionally nudged the phone at an unwilling Logan, Remus tried to imagine what an eight-year-old grape would look like. Would it be all wrinkled, like a raisin? Would it harden like some kind of fruit marble? Would it still be all moldy? Or was eight years way too long for that? Maybe the grape mold would have evolved into a grape mold monster, growing and growing and growing until it was too powerful to be held back by the constraints of a shelf life.

Remus fantasized for a moment about a giant grape mold monster attacking the buildings the car passed by, Godzilla style.

He was interrupted as the car pulled over, and Logan thrust out a hand. “Alright, show me this ‘comedy gold’ of yours.”

Remus grinned and showed Logan his brother’s texts.

“Ah,” said Logan. He didn’t seem to understand what was funny about a photo of Roman in a hospital bed captioned, “I lived b*tch”.

Remus stuck his tongue out at him, and went back to his phone, disappointed. “No sense of humor.”

Logan frowned, and they pulled back onto the road.

…

Once they had checked in as visitors to the hospital, Logan strode towards the stairwell.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Remus said, making him glance back, “didn’t she say he was in room 503? As in the fifth floor 503?”

“Yes.”

“Well, maybe you like being tortured; but I’m not walking up five flights of stairs!”

Logan glanced towards the stairs, then back at Remus, who was starting towards the elevator bay.

“Stairs are better for cardiovascular health.”

“My twin has asthma; that makes me asthma-adjacent, so making me go up stairs is child abuse.”

“You’re 19 years old.”

“So?”

“That makes you neither a child nor significantly younger than me.”

“Roommate’s brother abuse, then.”

Logan raised an eyebrow.

“It’s five flights,” Remus reminded him. “The elevator will be so much faster!”

Logan glanced towards the elevator bay, folding his arms. “…What if I wear the hat?”

Remus laughed. “Come on, like you’re getting out of wearing the hat.” He walked forwards, took Logan’s wrist, and pulled him towards the elevators.

“I’d really rather not,” Logan said as he was dragged along.

“What, are you claustrophobic or something?”

“…I’m admittedly not a fan of elevators.”

“You’ll be fine, it’s one ride.”

He pressed the button for the elevator, and they waited. Logan couldn’t help but glance occasionally back towards the stairs, especially since by the time the elevator arrived, there were three more people waiting for the same elevator.

The doors slid open. Logan was glad to see that it was not as small as he had feared—probably to make room for gurneys and wheelchairs, he reflected—and if anything it only had the same unnaturally clean smell as the rest of the hospital, and nothing worse.

Still, as all five of them crowded into the elevator, along with the frankly excessively large bunch of balloons one of them held, Logan was not exactly happy.

The elevator began to move, and Logan gripped the railing tightly, standing as far away from the others as could be managed in such a small space.

Remus kept eyeing the enormous cluster of balloons, a stark opposition to the single Get Well Soon! balloon that they had picked up at the convenience store, envy in his eyes.

A silver lining to the experience for Logan was that the three visitors got off at the third floor, and no one else joined them, so the trip up the last two floors was fairly tolerable.

Finally, they arrived, and the elevator doors slid open. Remus stepped out, and Logan followed after, trying to seem less relieved than he actually was.

“We’re taking the stairs on the way down if you want a ride back,” he told Remus.

“Fiiine. Now put on your hat, his room’s right there.”

Logan kept the hat in his hands as they approached.

Just before they reached the doorway, Remus paused. Logan glanced back at him. He looked nervous, suddenly.

“Are you ready?” Logan asked.

Remus grinned, adjusting the hat on his head. Logan noticed as he lifted his arms that the sweater he wore read ‘Merry X-mas F*ckers’.

“Yep! ’Course I am, why wouldn’t I be?”

Logan looked him up and down, then strode into the room, opening the door quietly. “Roman?”

Roman lay in the bed, his eyes closed, earbuds in his ears. His eyes opened as Logan came in, and he smiled tiredly. He pulled out the earbuds, tapping a button on his phone. “There’s my… favorite nerd. Back again… so soon? You must’ve… really missed me.”

Logan’s lips twitched. “I brought someone to see you.”

“Hazel, is that you?”

A confused expression crossed Roman’s face, and he looked past Logan to where Remus stood in the doorway in his lime green Santa hat and vulgar sweater, the Get Well Soon! balloon bobbing at his side. Logan moved to sit beside the bed, glancing between them.

“Jeez, I know you cried like a baby at The Fault in Our Stars, but you might be taking this fanboy thing too far.”

Roman cracked a smile, laughing softly and clearly trying not to cough. “That was… years ago. Now, get over here… Stinkbug.”

…

They spent nearly two hours at the hospital. Remus and Roman talked, and Logan did his best not to be too intrusive. He could tell they were dancing around the elephant in the room, the fact that they hadn’t seen each other in quite some time; but he figured there were better times to discuss such a thing.

Finally, a nurse came by to let them know that visiting hours had ended.

“Aw, come on,” Remus whined at him. “Tomorrow’s Christmas. Just think of the sleepover we could have.”

“I’m sorry, but you do have to leave. Your brother needs his rest.”

“Who says he’s my brother? Maybe he’s my cousin.”

The nurse glanced between the obvious twins, then towards Logan, as if asking for help.

“He’s joking,” Logan assured him. “We’ll leave in a minute; don’t worry.”

The nurse nodded. “Have a good night,” he said, before leaving the room.

Remus sighed, then looked back to Roman. “Sorry, The Man says we have to leave.”

Roman shook his head, looking amused. The expression faded a second later, though, at the prospect of being alone again. Logan frowned, remembering the news Roman had given him when they arrived—that the doctors thought it would be best for him to stay in the hospital for Christmas as well, rather than checking out in the morning as they had hoped.

“I’ll be back tomorrow,” Logan promised.

“We’ll be back tomorrow,” Remus corrected, grinning at Roman. “And I’ll make him wear the hat!”

“We’ll be back,” Logan agreed, deciding to ignore the hat comment.

…

“So, what’s the plan?”

Logan glanced at Remus, who had his feet up on the dashboard despite Logan’s repeated protestations about safety and sanitation concerns.

“The plan?” he repeated.

“Yeah. The plan, for tomorrow? For Christmas?”

“My only plan was to visit Roman.”

Remus’s mouth opened, and he stared at Logan for a solid five seconds. Logan’s fingers tapped on the wheel awkwardly.

“I take it that isn’t acceptable to you?”

“Isn’t acceptable—alright, come on. Really. You can do better than that. You can’t really make my brother spend Christmas in the hospital and not do better than that.”

“I’m not making him spend Christmas in the—”

“Missing the point, Nerdy Wolverine! We’ve got planning to do.”

Logan frowned, not liking where this was going.

“We can go back to your place and figure it out.”

Logan hesitated, waiting for a car to pass by before turning a corner. “I suppose we can do that in the building’s lobby.”

“Okay, seriously. What’s up? Do you really think I’m going to rob you or something? I know I haven’t been around lately, but you know I wouldn’t do that to Roman.”

Logan chewed on the inside of his lip. He didn’t mean to offend Remus, but he really couldn’t let him in the apartment, whether it hurt his feelings or not.

Remus looked out the window. “Fine, we’ll do it your way. Keep your secrets.”

“I just don’t know you that well,” Logan defended, unsure of what else to say. There wasn’t much else he could say.

“Yeah, yeah, sure. Whatever.”

They drove in silence for a moment.

“You do know where he’s got the presents hidden, right? Since you won’t let me get them?”

“What presents?”

“You really think Roman doesn’t have presents hidden away?”

“I hadn’t thought about it.”

Remus squinted at him. “…You didn’t get him anything, did you?”

Logan was aware of how telling his silence was.

“Oh my god.”

“I don’t celebrate Christmas; Roman knows that.”

“Did you not get him a birthday present either because it wasn’t your birthday?”

Logan sighed.

“He even got me a Christmas present. I got it in the mail already. Do you really think he didn’t get you one?”

Logan just huffed, until a realization dawned on him. “That’s how you knew where our apartment was.” Apparently the joke about internet stalking had just been that—a joke.

“Yep. And I didn’t even open my present yet because I wanted to come here and surprise him! And I get here, and I bet you two don’t even have a Christmas tree!”

Logan adjusted his grip on the wheel. Remus wasn’t wrong. In their defense, they had been a bit distracted, given what had happened with Emile and the other “mouse-men”.

“You’ve got a mall here, right? What time does it close?”

“…In about an hour.”

…

Logan closed the apartment door behind himself, stuck the keys in his pocket, and strode into the kitchen, pausing the flick on the lights. He set down the ridiculous hat Remus had gotten him on the kitchen table, and paused in front of the doorway into the living room. He’d left the light on in there for obvious reasons, since the sun had gone down even before he’d left with Remus.

As he debated going in to check on the guests within, Patton looked up at him and put a hand to his mouth. Logan realized he was holding a finger to his lips. He glanced past Patton and saw that both Virgil and Emile were asleep, Emile in his bed and Virgil on his side between his brother and Patton. Logan held up a hand in an acknowledging gesture, and continued down the hall and into Roman’s room.

Remus had said that Roman had always had a habit of hiding presents in an air vent, and would most likely have done the same now. Logan looked around and spotted the vent above Roman’s desk—fairly easily accessed, he had to admit.

He glanced around at the floor leading up to it, grimaced, and decided he had a little time to clean up, first. Remus could wait a few extra minutes.

He gathered up the rocks first—most of them were easily spotted, although several had made their way under the bed and bedside table, and a few even up to the bedroom door—and deposited them back into  their box, which he returned to the bedside table. He also returned the fallen dresser drawer to its usual place. One of the corners of the drawer was broken, but it was only a minor cosmetic issue. Logan simply threw away the scrap of wood and slid the drawer back in the slot. Then, he collected the things that had fallen out of the drawer; and while he was certain that how he arranged them would not match whatever organization system Roman might—or might not—have had in place, he did his best. At any rate, it was certainly better how he had found it.

He found the inhaler last, sitting under the bed, not far from where he had found the expired one he had tried to help Roman with. Logan looked at it for a long moment, silently placed it on top of the dresser, and moved on to the vent.

He glanced around for a screwdriver, guessing that Roman would have one in here if he were really hiding presents in the vent, and spotted it on the desk, next to a fresh-looking scratch in the wood. Logan frowned, running a finger over the damage, then glanced up at the vent. Only three of the screws were in place. He glanced around, and, not spotting the missing one on the desk, finally spotted it on the floor.

Odd.

Logan shook his head, picked up the screwdriver, and stood on the desk chair to reach the vent. He unscrewed the three screws, pocketed them with the other, and removed the vent cover. There was something inside: a large plastic bag. He slid it out of its hiding place, waving away some stray dust motes that came free, and set it on the desk. He glanced inside, confirming that there were in fact presents inside. Then, he replaced the vent cover, stepped down from the desk chair, and left the room, bringing the bag of gifts with him.

He paused to wave good-bye to Patton, turned off the kitchen light, and went down to meet Remus in the lobby.

He found the young man sitting in a chair, his feet up in the one across from him, the shopping bags from the mall at his side. He perked up upon seeing Logan.

“You found them!”

“I did,” Logan confirmed. “You were right.”

“Of course I am.” Remus leaned forward and took the bag from Logan. “He’s so predictable. See, there’s two for you in here….” He pawed around in the bag some more, absently listing a few more names, then paused, pulling out three very small, carefully giftwrapped boxes.

“Who are E, V, and P?” Remus asked, turning them over in his hands.

Logan glanced over sharply, his eyes widening before he could stop them. “Those are, um, college friends,” he said.

Remus clearly didn’t buy it. “He got three college friends ring boxes? Ooh, are they his boyfriends? Does my bro really have three boyfriends? Is that what you didn’t want me to see in the apartment? Damn, he’s outdoing me! Is he going to propose to them all at once?”

Logan opened his mouth and shut it again. “…No,” he said meekly.

Remus grinned, looking over the boxes for a second longer. “Sure, sure. I believe you.” He obviously did not believe Logan; but he did return the three small boxes to their place in the bag, instead only removing the two with Logan’s name on them.

He set the presents aside and picked up one of their shopping bags, pulling out gift bags, tissue paper, and a few other items.

“So, let’s figure out tomorrow. What time should we get there?”

…

Logan reluctantly allowed himself to be herded into the elevator again. As much as he… preferred not to use elevators, he had to admit that he wasn’t keen to carry so much stuff up five flights of stairs.

Thankfully, no one seemed to want to share an elevator with them, given how crowded it would have been. Logan was relieved.

Roman grinned as they walked into the hospital room. “You wore the hat!”

“I wore the hat,” Logan confirmed, sounding disgruntled. It was only to free up space in his arms, and for no other reason, of course. Remus’s nagging about how much it would cheer up his brother had had nothing to do with it. He hadn’t come across any mirrors, but he was sure he looked ridiculous, with his professional attire clashing with the giant-eared hat.

“What’s… all that?” Roman asked, watching as they hauled in the large shopping bags.

“Christmas,” Remus grinned. He’d dumped his bags on the floor and was already pulling out the tree. It was small, and plastic—pickings at the store had been slim, and they couldn’t exactly bring in a nine-foot fir tree—but it would fit perfectly on one of the chairs. Remus grabbed one from beside the empty bed and dragged it over, setting the tree on top.

Meanwhile, Logan set down his own bags and began unpacking them, stacking the presents at the end of the bed, and handing the box of ornaments to Remus.

Roman watched them both with wide eyes as they transformed the hospital room into something more festive, putting up garlands (strictly where they would not be even remotely in the way, upon Logan’s insistence), decorating the tree (Remus held it up so Roman could add the star at the top), and placed a box of various Christmas cookies on the table. Roman soon wore a reindeer headband and a necklace of colorful LED lightbulbs. Remus had brought his laptop, and had (perhaps less than legally, Logan suspected) downloaded several classic Christmas movies.

“We can always go for some Netflix or Hulu if you’re not feeling the classics,” he said as he set it up on what was meant to be Roman’s serving tray, “and I personally love some good Krampus, but I know you’re like obsessed with Rudolph.”

Remus had also gotten a pack of colorful paper at the mall, so while the movies played, all three of them cut out snowflakes and slowly decorated the walls.

The nurses who occasionally came in to check in on Roman seemed to like what they’d done to the room, despite Logan’s worries that they might have gone overboard or inconvenienced them. But the laptop and quickly dwindling cookies were easily moved if need be, and none of their stuff was in the way of getting to Roman or his monitors.

Just past lunchtime, Remus reached out to pause the movie—Frosty the Snowman—and dramatically placed a gift bag in Roman’s lap. “Time for presents!”

Roman, who had seemed unable to stop smiling since they’d arrived, grinned wider. “Guys, you… didn’t have to….”

“Yes we did! And don’t worry, it’s not just you opening stuff. You’re not very good at hiding presents.”

Roman glanced at Logan, a trace of alarm in his eyes, and Logan quickly clarified, “He told me you like to hide things in vents.”

Roman relaxed, and he laughed, breaking off to cough. “It works… doesn’t it?”

“It definitely worked for me when we were kids,” Remus readily agreed. “Very convenient for early access.”

Roman threw his pillow at him.

“Alright, alright, no pillow fights in the hospital; you’ll break something.” Logan grabbed the pillow and handing it back. “Which of these would you prefer I open first?”

Roman pointed at one, and meanwhile, Remus nudged one of the gift bags on Roman’s lap closer to him. “Open mine first!”

Logan peeled back the paper on the first gift, careful not to tear anything, revealing a shoe box. He lifted the lid, and saw a book inside—one he didn’t recognize. It was thick, and had a dark red cover with a simple black design of a magnifying glass.

“What is this?” he asked, picking it up.

Roman had waited to watch Logan open the gift. “It’s a book! Well… a story. I wrote it. It’s about… Sherlock Holmes… but you’re Watson.”

Logan blinked, inspecting the book more closely. It did, in fact, have Roman’s name stamped where the author’s would normally go. “Really? How did you get it bound like this?”

“The internet.”

“Ah, of course. Thank you, Roman—I’m very intrigued. I’m certain I’ll love it.”

Roman grinned, only to have Remus shove his gift at him more insistently. Roman shook his head, amused, and picked it up. He took none of the care that Logan had in opening his present, tossing torn scraps of paper to the side. Inside was a teddy bear, but not exactly like the ones Logan usually saw in stores. This one was zombified, complete with blood and a partially exposed brain.

“You got this… at Halloween, didn’t you?”

“Maaaybe,” Remus said, grinning. He turned to tear into his own gift then, the one that Roman had mailed to him, with fervor. Logan silently gathered up scraps of paper as Remus scattered them. “Oooh!”

It was a book about frog dissection, complete with numerous illustrations.

“I’m going to rip these out and put them on my wall,” he announced, thumbing eagerly through the pages.

“Okay, open your… second one,” Roman said to Logan.

The second present was heavier than the first, but smaller. Logan unwrapped it carefully. It was a rounded, clear glass paperweight, the center engraved with the spiraling Milky Way Galaxy.

“Oh, wow…. Thank you, Roman,” he said sincerely, lifting it up so that he could look at it in the light.

Logan’s gift for Roman, despite being the last opened, was nothing special, in his opinion—it had been gotten in a hurry, of course, within the hour that he and Remus had had at the mall; but as Roman pulled out the book on Disney’s art through the years, the joy on his face was clearly genuine.

“Oh my gosh… Logan, I love this!”

…

They left most of the decorations up in Roman’s room for the night, with Logan planning to take them down before his roommate checked out in the morning. He figured there was no harm in it, and Roman clearly enjoyed them.

Remus and Logan drove back to the apartment building that evening, their stomachs full of cookies, a bow stuck to Remus’s forehead, and the presents they’d received in the backseat. Logan was still wearing the ridiculous hat Remus had gotten him.

“Thanks,” Remus said as they got out of the car.

“For driving you back? That’s no trouble, I assure you.”

“No,” Remus said. “Well, that too, but I meant… thanks for helping me with this. I can’t say the hospital was part of my plan, but I really wanted this Christmas to be special.” He shifted where he stood. “I haven’t seen Roman in a while, and I was hoping that… you know, that maybe I could just show up, and maybe… I don’t know. I wanted my brother back is all.”

Logan glanced at him.

“Anyway. Thanks for helping me.”

He grabbed his dissection book from the backseat, looked at the cover, and glanced over to his car. “Guess I should be going. I’ve got boyfriends to kiss, mischief to… mischievize.”

“Remus… may I ask you something?”

Remus tilted his head. “If you want to be my third boyfriend, I’m sorry, but I don’t date my brother’s roomies. Besides, you live kind of far, and I’m not into the whole long distance thing.”

“What? No.”

Remus cackled. “Kidding. Shoot.”

Logan cleared his throat. “I know that you and Roman had some family issues, but I must admit that I’m unaware of what they are. I understand if you are against telling me, but I would appreciate some insight, if you’re willing to provide it.”

Remus screwed up his face. “Well… if Roman didn’t want to say….”

“Of course.” Logan shook his head. “Forget I asked. That was insensitive of me. It was simply an impulse question, think nothing of it.”

Remus glanced towards his car again, then looked down at the pavement.. “I don’t know what exactly it was,” he admitted. “Our parents lied to me about it, said he… Well, they said some things that weren’t true, so I’d side with them.” He grimaced, then forced a grin to his face. “I got back at them, though. Let’s just say I “butt-dialed” them, in the middle of a very fun time with my boyfriends.”

Logan cleared his throat. “I get the idea, yes.”

“Anyway. I found out they lied, and I want to make it better, because I was kind of a d*ck to him about it. So, thanks. Nerd.”

Logan nodded, and watched as Remus walked off to his car, throwing and catching the keys as he went. He dropped them just as he reached the car. Logan watched as he picked them up, pretended nothing had happened, and unlocked the door.

It had been quite an unusual Christmas, to say the least.

[imamotherfuckingstar-lord]

Grateful

Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes

Warnings: Story with smut, M/F/M, no stucky. Oral sex. OVER 18 ONLY

A/N: 4K Commission for: @deanxfuckingadorablexwinchester

Summary: You are feeling inadequate in your relationship with Steve and Bucky.

The coffee shop was busy as you navigated through the small afternoon crowd to get to the display of muffins, stomach growling for something blueberry or chocolate- maybe both if they did that. You reached the display and bent down, eyes beckoning back and forth between the blueberry and chocolate chips. Deciding it was a self love day, you opted for both and wait your turn patiently in line. It smelled like brewing coffee and baking goods, and when your turn was up, your cell phone started to ring. Quickly, you ordered the two muffins and coffee, before handing over your debit card and scrambling to pick it up.

It was Bucky and you smiled as you said hello. “Did you guys just get back?”

“Yeah, sweetheart,” he said, he sounded a bit tired but his voice warm. 

“You sound tired, are you headed to the apartment?”

After a quick briefing with the team he said. He mentioned picking up take out on his way home and when you asked if Steve was around, he handed over the cell to his friend. Steve’s voice was warm and steady, he asked how you were and if you missed him. The café had become loud and you tried to whisper that you did, but he said he could not hear you and you laughed.

“Of course, I missed you, I always miss the two of you.”

“Good, we’ll be home soon,” he promised, excusing himself. “The meeting is started, see you soon, honey.”

The two of you hung up just in time for your order to be called – leaving a tip, you gathered the coffee and bag of muffins, claiming a spot at a table near the large bay windows. The weather was becoming warmer, summer was just around the corner and the thought of less layering made you sad; you loved the jackets and scarves, not to mention Bucky and Steve both looked great in wool winter coats. Bucky in a black one, while Steve opted for a dark blue coat. 

Relaxing in the seat, you took a sip from the coffee and eased into your daily social media feed, scrolling through photos and alternating between the blueberry and chocolate muffins. Nothing out of the ordinary, except you had been tagged in a photo by Steve, who had posted it this morning. Clicking on the notification, you saw that he had taken an aerial photo of the city, must have been from the quinjet. You were tagged in the corner of the photo and the captioned read: Finally coming home to my girl.

It was sweet and it made you smile, Steve was such a romantic and your relationship with him was public – the thing the public did not know, and only the people close to you did, was that Bucky was also in the mix. It had happened organically over a course of two years, it started off as mutual friendship after you were hired to work with the Avengers on PR stuff and media control. You had to conduct interviews with each of the members to get a feel of their character, Steve was a bit apprehensive at first but the two of you hit it off rather quickly. You had a pretty easy-going sense of humor and Steve could not resist but Bucky on the other hand was a different story.

He was stoic and shy, so you asked him to meet you outside the facility for the interview – you picked a stop near the lake and just talked to him, mostly asking one layer questions until he opened up more and things started to meld after that. The two men sought your company, especially since you practically lived at the facility – damage control was a constant need, but slowly you turned into almost like an assistant to the Avengers. You helped them normalize their lives, they were superheroes, but the media acted like they were celebrities – gossip and tabloids were constantly coming up with stories about them that were untrue. It was your job to paint them in a colorful light – not that that was hard. 

Enjoying your muffin, you clicked on the comments and smiled at all the positive greetings, welcoming Steve back to the city, but the further you scrolled down, it seemed the more negative. Just like a celebrity, huh? The good and bad things people will say, Steve had tough skin, but you did not. There were mountains of comments on how Steve could do way better which you could only assume was from people who had clicked on your profile – it was private, but your profile photo still showed. It was a typical posing photo taken outside a bar Steve, Bucky and you frequent. Bucky had taken it and told you to pose with your hand so your hip, you did, and he liked it so much he had a wallet size print of it on the dashboard of his car – the man adored you. 

Yet, people were cruel and you were dating two gorgeous men (although they only knew about one of them), and people were quick to point out all your flaws; you were not skinny enough, tall enough and did not live up to the male gaze standard society pushed. It hurt, even though you wish it had not. 

Sighing, you closed the app and tried to focus on the two muffins waiting to be consumed – except now, you were not feeling so hungry. Gazing around the café, you could not stop from comparing yourself to all the women walking around. Feeling insecure, and hating it, you quickly packed up and left – hailing a cab back to the apartment.

When you got home, the apartment was quiet; it was a two bedroom layout that was nestled in the middle of Brooklyn – a place you found to help Steve and Bucky feel at home, and also a place for the three of you to escape from the facility. Most nights the three of you shared a bed but occasionally Bucky would become sleepless and have nightmares, so he requested his own room for those times. But ever since friendship turned into something more, those nightmares were few and far. 

“Parker,” you cooed out, closing the door behind as you walked into the apartment – it was quiet until you heard the pitter pattering of small paws on the wood. It was Parker, the orange cat Bucky and you adopted. Steve was more of a dog person, but it did not take much convincing once Parker was home. 

“Hey, buddy.”

You kneeled and started to pet him, ignoring the buzzing on your cell – the whole cab ride home you were getting tagged in photos that paparazzi had taken of Steve and you over the last year. Again, superheroes were treated like celebrities and were followed around, even when they were trying to be normal – therefore you understood why Bucky stayed out of the public. Steve, well, everyone knew who he was in and out of the suit – so he learned to tolerate the photo stalking, although he was known to give a stern look here and there. 

“Come, Parker, let’s get you some food.”

The cat followed you to the kitchen and meowed as you took out his food, following you to his food dish. As you fed him, your cell buzzed again, so you gave in and walked over to the kitchen counter. It was a text from Bucky, saying the meeting was running later than he anticipated and the two would be home soon with food. You wanted to reply but you had an itch to go back on Instagram, so you did.

Boy, you wish you hadn’t. 

Twenty minutes later, you were on the couch in the living scrolling through countless photos of Steve and you, and a few of Bucky. There were posts dedicated to the notion that Steve Rogers aka Captain America would ever date someone like you – someone who was short and curvy (not that false curvy that was just ass and boobs). You were not a Victoria's Secret model, let’s just put it that way and while you were perfectly fine with your body, people could be hurtful with their words. Especially when they could hide behind a screen. 

There was a photo in particular that someone had taken of Bucky and you in a coffee shop, the two of you lingering near a window somewhere in Brooklyn – he was smiling at you, the one he often saved for you, real sincere and quiet, if a smile could be quiet. You were holding a coffee and smiling right back at him, and the comments were cruel.

He must be faking that smile; he has to put up with his teammate’s girlfriend.

She’s basic AF

HOW IS THIS CAP’S GF??

You remembered that day, it had been the first time in weeks that Bucky had decided to venture outside the block of your apartment. He asked if you would occupancy him to get some coffee and Steve urged you to go, kissing you goodbye on the forehead as he held Parker in his arms. That day, Buck dressed in a black hoodie and jeans, black glove on his left hand. He quietly pointed out places he knew back when he was a kid, noting how much things had and hadn’t changed. You listened contently and when you were inside the café, he told you he loved you – it was the first time he had said it since the three of you all moved in together and he mentioned how much he wanted to kiss you but what would the world think about him kissing Captain America’s girl?

“I’m your girl too, James.” 

He smiled then and you smiled back at him, then he noticed a woman taking a photo from outside the café window. 

You sat up on the couch and glared at the screen in your hand – Steve always said not to get carried away with the negativity and even offered to take down his social media. A part of you wanted him to, but you knew it made him feel connected to the world, so you said it was okay. Turning off the cell, you placed it on the coffee table adjacent to the couch and laid down. Your hand ran over your stomach, poking at the pockets of fat under your shirt and sighed thinking about how perfect Bucky and Steve’s bodies were – perfectly sculptured works of art. It made you feel unworthy and you didn’t like that feeling, so you decided to just sleep until two arrived. 

…

“She’s not answering my texts, maybe she fell asleep.”

“Natasha just texted me, she’s been fighting with people on your photo again.”

Steve frowned and searched for his cell, Bucky watching as they waited for the elevator door to open. The latter was holding take out from the Chinese place you loved so much while Steve’s eyebrows scrunched as he read over what was happening on his last post. 

“What the hell is wrong with people, Buck?”

“They’ve always been the same, nothing’s changed much, has it?”

Steve sighed and followed Bucky into the elevator, and when the doors closed, he looked over to his best friend. “I hate bullies.”

Parker met the pair in the small foyer of their apartment, the cat purred and rubbed against each of their leg before Bucky picked him up and followed Steve further into the apartment. They saw you sleeping on the couch, Steve sat on the coffee table and picked up your cell when it began to buzz. Bucky gave him a look as he tapped on the Instagram notification and saw that you were being tagged in awful posts. It made him angry and Bucky didn’t have to look to understand, instead he walked around the couch to you and sat on the edge, effortlessly shifting your body. He reached down to touch your face and he smiled, looking at Steve.

“It’s good to be home.”

Steve grinned. “Especially when we have her to come home to. I got to say Buck, ever since we made the move in with her, things have never felt better.”

“Agreed.”

Bucky looked down at you, Parker still in his arms, and leaned forward to kiss your cheek, his lips on your skin stirred you awake. You jumped up in surprise. He grinned as you brushed back the hair from his face and looked over to Steve.

“You’re back!”

Parker jumped out of Bucky’s arms into yours and he nestled on top of your lap, purring as you petted his back. Steve asked if you were hungry and mentioned the takeout he left in the kitchen, you said no and the two exchanged glances. Steve held up your cell and apologized for tagging you in the photo.

“I should have known better; people tend to show their worst online.”

“It’s fine.”

“It’s not, you shouldn’t have to worry about this.”

Bucky reached for your hand and gave it a squeeze. He reminded you that people didn’t know your life and that at the end of the day, it only mattered what you thought of yourself – and a little of what Steve and he thought, he said jokingly. It made you smile, his sweetness but your brain hyper focused on the result of reading all those comments – no one thought you were good enough for Steve or Bucky. No one. Both men sensed that your smile and assurance that you were fine was false, so they exchanged a knowing glance. 

“You brought food, yes? I’m hungry.”

“In due time,” Steve answered, taking Parker from your lap. 

You eyed him and asked what he meant, but Bucky gently grabbed you by the chin, forcing your gaze to move to him. Steve’s footsteps were heard going down the hall, and you wondered where he had gone until Bucky kissed you gently on the lips. His lips caught you by surprise, but you melted back into the couch as he pushed you down, his body hovered over yours. You could not help but groan when his tongue played against yours and his hand moved to caress the side of your face – Bucky’s reputation as the Winter Soldier was the opposite of his ways of being a lover. He was gentle and tended to your needs before his own. 

“I’ve missed you so much,” he whispered into your ear, giving the edge of your lobe a loving nip. You groaned again, gripping his shoulder with both hands as his lips moved from your ear down to your neck, where he pressed little kisses until you grasped in pleasure. “That’s my girl.”

“She’s both our girl, Buck.” Steve appeared in the room, now dressed in gray sweats and nothing else. Bucky stopped his kissing and got up from the couch, saying something about putting the takeout in the oven to keep warm. You sat up and regained your breath as Steve sat next to you on the couch – his smile was boyish, but his body was one of a man. Your eyes never could help but take him in every time he walked into a room and it always surprised you when you were the one he was walking too.

“People have nothing better to do than break down those they have no reach to.”

“Wise words, Rogers. How did you get so smart?”

He shrugged, using his arm to pull you into his side. His fingers pressed into the side of your arm and he held you tight against his body. Your throat clenched with the feel of his skin and before you could even say something smart and witty, he had you on his lap. He was fast, like that, could have you coming in seconds if he really wanted to. Mostly, he liked to take his time. 

You looked down at him, his head dipped back against the couch. His blue eyes were staring up at you, like a shy schoolboy. Touching the side of his face, you asked how you got so lucky. He shook his head and kissed your hand, placing it on his bare chest. 

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Bring yourself down, it hurts me to hear those things from you.”

“I won’t say them anymore.”

That’s not what he meant, but he knew no matter what he or Bucky said, they needed to show you how much they love you. So, he adjusted you on his lap, your knees nestled into the cushion of the sofa. Both his hands went down to your waist and he called out to Bucky, who walked into the living room. Your heart pounded as he made his way to the couch, settling down next to his friend; his smile made you smile.

“I love you,” you whispered to him, his eyes softening with your words. He wanted you to know how special he felt when you gifted him with those words, with the light you brought into his life. 

“I love you,” he mused back.

“We both love you.”

Steve pulled you down to his and kissed you passionately, his hands on your face. He whispered that you were the only one for him and no one could take that away. You felt his truth in his kisses and then you felt him hard under you, which excited you. But then he stopped kissing you, your eyes still closed when you felt Bucky pull you down to him. Your eyes opened to Bucky’s, who pulled you over his body, your back against his chest. 

“We’re going to show you how much we love you,” he whispered, his fingers dancing down the front of your stomach to the waistband of the joggers you were waiting. The excitement made your toes warm as he tugged at the strings, loosening them up a bit. Steve watched as Bucky’s hand disappeared under the pants and you moaned quietly when his fingers made their way under your underwear. He touched you slowly at first, hungrily pawning at you until Steve stood up and eagerly pushed away the coffee table away from the couch. He positioned himself on the floor, kneeling in front of the couch. Bucky spread his legs, using his hands to do the same to yours after Steve pulled off your sweats and panties. 

The cool air made you shudder until Steve placed both his palm on top of your thighs, as Bucky kissed your neck and his hands roamed under your shirt to your breasts. His touch was a bit rough as he pushed aside the top of your bra to get to your nipples, pinching them slightly. Your hips jerked up but you weren’t sure if it was because of Bucky or the fact that Steve’s head was now buried between your thighs, his mouth on you. It was probably both.

You moaned loudly and wiggled under Steve’s mouth, the feeling of his tongue licking you gave way to wanting him to stop and wanting him to never stop – it was so intense it almost hurt as you cried out. Your head rested against Bucky’s chest as his hold on your breast tightened. There was no control when you were with them, it was almost unfair but that thought always drifted away with every touch of their mouths and hands. 

“We love you,” Bucky whispered, his teeth pulled at your earlobe and you whimpered. “You’re the only one we want, right Steve?”

He didn’t verbally answer, but his tongue lapped faster at your clit and that was enough to speak more than volumes. You called out both their names and the two men worked faster, Bucky nibbling on your neck and Steve including his fingers in the quest to finish you off. It was insanely disorienting, but that’s what their love felt to you – two large forces constantly circling you, protecting you and more often than not, guiding you to a level of happiness you could have never imagined. You loved them deeply and profoundly, it felt implicitly wrong at times, for them to feel the same way. 

Yet, here they were – after a long mission and weeks of preparation for said mission. They had come home, to relax and have some form of normalcy to find you in need of comfort, and they do so without hesitation or complaint. They do it because they simply love you and had for a while now. They do what needs to be done, so you can feel love because nothing could ever be enough to show you the gratitude both felt. Gratitude towards you for choosing them both, for seeing that they needed you more than you needed them and for making space in your heart for the both of them. 

“Come one, sweetheart,” Steve purred and lifted you from under, your ass in his hands as he dug deeper with his tongue, his whole mouth on you. Moaning, you felt the intensity fire up, burning away all the negative comments and remarks, the ugly thoughts and feelings of unworthiness of being the lover of Captain America and the Winter Soldier, because that wasn’t it. You were the lover of Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes, two guys from Brooklyn, who had kind hearts and even kinder souls. You were more than worthy of that title and no amount of hateful remarks could ever change that – you saw that now. 

“I – I’m…”

The rest of the sentence disappeared into the air as the pair moved faster to satisfy you, knowing the way you loved to be touch and with that knowledge, the life time friends brought you to the edge then swiftly and delicately, pushed you off.

Your body shook uncontrollably, the air condition cooled your warm skin. Steve licked you a few times more before kissing the inside of both of your thighs. He sat back and rubbed at his chin; Bucky gave your breast a tender squeeze before releasing them. He kissed you on the cheek, removed his hands from under your shirt and pulled it down. 

No words formed from your lips, so you were grateful when Bucky grabbed the throw blanket from the couch’s arm and covered your body half with it. He snuggled you against his chest, arms wrapped around your waist. Steve stood up and leaned forward to kiss you on the forehead, proclaiming he was thirsty. He disappeared into the kitchen and you smiled, body relaxed against Buck’s. 

You glanced down at the coffee table and noticed that in his rush to get to you, Steve had broken the leg. “We’re going to need a new coffee table.”

Bucky chuckled. “Probably.”

Sliding off him, you laughed too and apologized for letting the social media comments get to you. “I’m the Avengers PR person, I should know better. I guess we’re all just human, mostly, anyway.”

He looked at you and smiled. “Mostly.”

“Who needs water?” 

Steve walked into the living room with two glasses of water, he handed each of you one and said that the takeout was still warm, noting that he was hungry. You downed the water and asked him to pass over your discarded sweats. Putting them on, you cleared your throat and looked to both men.

“I just want to say that I’m going to really try to not let those comments bother me, it’s dumb and they don’t know our lives. You guys are right, and that’s probably the first time you’ve ever heard that in your life.”

They both laughed and you smiled, feeling better. “I just…I love you two very much and I don’t want my own negative thoughts get in the way nor do I want outside influences to mess up what we have. Agreed?”

Steve looked over to Bucky, who nodded. “Agreed.”

You clap your hands together and sighed in relief, announcing you were ready to eat. The two friends watched as you walked away from them, their eyes on you until you left the room. Bucky stretched against the couch and got up, patting Steve on the back.

“How the hell did we get this lucky, punk?”

Pure luck, that was the only answer Steve could come up with. At least, that was what he felt every time he walked into a room and saw you, and he was sure Bucky felt the same. Smiling, mostly to himself, Steve shrugged. “It beats me.”

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[marshunter06]

Duncan’s Good Reputation?

Inspo credit and mad love to @stuckupwindbag your post about Duncan’s first PO becoming a monk totally inspired this. Then it turned into a 5+1 cause I’m a sucker for those things.

One-

Oddly enough, Courtney first finds it through a letter. She hadn’t meant to be snooping, but with their relationship beginning again, trust was a touchy subject. She can just hear her mother’s voice- “once a cheater always a cheater hun, don’t ever forget that.'' To be fair, he left the open letter in plain view. It was just sitting on top of his kitchen counter close to where she placed her car keys. She was only looking for her keys when she accidently ended up glancing at the letter. It was handwritten. She would only skim it.

Duncan,

Nice to hear from you personally instead of through your new parole officer asking for advice. Glad to see that you’re out of trouble nowadays. I always knew you had a golden heart. Speaking of advice, I gave you some that I know you took- Congrats on the outcome - I finally did listen to my heart as well. After some traveling I found my place on a mountain on a little island. I’m finally at peace and I’m happy. Never thought I would say this, but thanks for getting in trouble all those years ago. I wouldn’t be on top of the world if it wasn’t for you.

Much love,

Your old PO

David, a newly devote Monk

“Hey Princess, did you find your keys?”

She jumps as the voice and moves as far away from the counter. If he noticed she was acting weird, he didn’t say anything about it. Instead, he picks up her keys then tosses it to her. He smiles as he sees the letter.

“Thanks… I guess I’ll see you tomorrow morning?”

“Is it cool if we meet for an early lunch instead? I gotta mail David back.”

“You mean brunch? Sure… who’s David again?”

“Brunch is for pansies. He’s my old parole officer. Dude just became a monk, go figure.”

Confusion was written all over her face as she chose to ignore his brunch statement. She waits to see if he’ll elaborate, and surprisingly, he does.

“We met the first time I got out of juvie, he was meant to be a mentor to me sorta. It didn’t work out that way. I kept getting into trouble and he tried to help, but he couldn’t because of protocol. I didn’t really care, but it bothered the hell out of him. Right before I left for Island, I told him to quit his job and do some soul searching since he was so unhappy. Besides, I figured I’d win and I wouldn’t need him anymore. Guess he finally found his calling.”

Duncan shrugs it off like it’s no big deal, but Courtney knows there’s more to the story he’s not telling her. She doesn’t push for the details, just happily accepts that he opened up about a piece of his past.

Two-

She almost loses it when she finds him repeatedly liking the same girl’s post on Instagram. She decides to get information before confronting him. When she finds out the girl was an ex she was ready to kill him, until she reads through the comments. The first picture is of a selfish of this gorgeous blonde with blue eyes. The caption read: Your fav girl is back, and this time with a new username!

duncansthename: with love huh?

ashwithlove: you know it dunkie (;

The second picture wasn’t any better. The same girl is smiling at the camera in a bikini at the beach. The caption read: Sun’s out so your fav hun’s out!

duncansthename: you’re not very creative Ash.

ashwithlove: did you even read your own @?

duncansthename: lol same old Ashley

ashwithlove: back at cha asshole (:

The third picture is when she became curious instead of just angry. Another selfie except this time her hair was considerably shorter. The caption read: New hair, who dis?

duncansthename: geez who hurt you babe?

ashwithlove: *rolls eyes* says the guy who broke up with me through a text.

duncansthename: we were 13! I said sorry already, besides you were going to do the same thing.

ashwithlove: I know, I’m just teasing (:

The fourth and final picture she comes across is what finally gives her all the pieces. Ashley was smiling with her eyes and both hands up pointing at a rainbow. The caption read: Never been happier in my life than right at this moment.

duncansthename: guessing it went well then, congrats Ash

ashwithlove: I owe it to you dunkie! Thanks to you, I can be ash with love <3

duncansthename: don’t get all soft on me now, I don’t do that shit

ashwithlove: sure tough guy, maybe I should message your princess (;

duncansthename: stay away from my girl, you live on the other side of the world now anyways

ashwithlove: no promises, besides the heart knows not distance only love

duncansthename: you’re unbelievable

ashwithlove: I learned from the best (;

“Pizza’s here if you’re ready for a break Princess.”

Even though she was no longer jealous, she still wanted to make sure her assumptions were correct.

“Duncan, who’s Ashley?”

He doesn’t even flinch, a good sign since he all but jumped away when she confronted him about Gwen way back.

“She’s an ex girlfriend of mine. My first girlfriend actually.”

“Oh…”

“Don’t worry Princess, I’m not carrying a torch for her. Besides, she has a girlfriend now.”

“You’re not just saying that right?”

“No? That’s a dumb thing to lie about. If you met her, you would know. She’d hit on you instantly.”

“But you just said she has a girlfriend.”

“Her girl would probably hit on you too. You’re fucking gorgeous Court.”

She feels her cheeks warm up at his compliment. She still wasn’t used to him being sweet again, so she shrugs it off.

“Stop changing the subject.”

“Just being honest. Anyways, you just reminded me to reply to her message.”

“You still message each other?”

“Every now and then… She says hi… shit and now she’s FaceTiming.”

“Dunkie! Let me talk to your princess! I know she’s there!”

“No! I always knew you would try and steal my girlfriend after having your heart broken by me.”

“As if. You were the one left heartbroken after I came out to you.”

“Yeah yeah, whatever.”

“Okay, but for real. Thanks dude! I can finally be me now. It’s officially! Your fav girl is out and proud! Mom took it better than I thought and she’s going to meet Dana on Monday!”

“Told you she would accept you. Your mom loves you.”

“I know, thanks for listening though.”

“Anything for my first girlfriend.”

“Careful, I might actually hold you to that! I gotta go, but double date soon?”

“You live in London!”

“So? Okay I really gotta go! Bye Dunkie! Tell your princess I said hi!”

Ashley hangs up on the call leaving Duncan slightly annoyed, but not really. He was about to apologize to Courtney, but she stops him. There was no need, besides the pizza was getting cold.

Three-

If being on a reality show taught Courtney anything was that she shouldn’t be surprised at anything. Still, she was caught off guard when she bumped into Chef Hatchet on her daily run through the park. She was even more thrown off when she sees that he’s not alone. He had six kids with him. He lets them take their hands off the walking rope as long as they promise to stay within the playground. The children all nodded yes then ran off towards the slides and swings.

“Courtney? Is that you?”

“Chef? What are you doing here?”

“Just taking the daycare kids on an outing. They’re repairing our playground, so I thought it would be nice to take the kids to the park.”

“Daycare kids?”

“Yeah! I’m a daycare teacher now.”

She must be in an alternate reality, there’s no way Chef Hatchet could be around children voluntarily. Especially with half the shit he helped pull on Total Drama, no sane person would hire the man.

“I can see you’re confused, but this is my true calling!”

“No offense Chef, but are you okay? Do I need to take you to the hospital?”

“I’m perfectly fine, Courtney. I thought Duncan would have told you already.”

“Duncan?”

“Yeah, he was the one to convince me I needed to do something different.”

“Wait, Duncan told you to quit and you actually listened?”

“He gives pretty good advice, that kid’s a good listener. I’ve never been happier.”

“What exactly did he say to you?”

“Just that even I deserve to be happy and to give it a chance.”

One of the kids starts crying and Chef is immediately on the move. It’s a strange sight, but Chef is extremely patient with the child and soon the little one is off running again. Who would have thought?

Four-

Courtney was ready to go grab her second cup of coffee when her phone buzzes. It was a text from Heather. She was going to ignore it until she saw that her boyfriend’s name was mentioned.

Heather: I just wanted to say I’m sorry. Pass that message to Duncan. He still has my number blocked.

Courtney: How do you even have my number? Also why were you texting Duncan?

Heather: Your boyfriend’s the one who gave it to me. Also that’s none of your business.

Courtney: You made it my business when you texted me. What did you do?

Heather: I didn’t do anything… okay fine I bitched him out for being nosy.

Courtney: Um… what?

Heather: He was butting in on my relationship with Alejandro again.

Courtney: Are you sure we're talking about the same Duncan?

Heather: Okay fine. I may have bothered him about my relationship.

Courtney: … and why would you do that?

Heather: He’s honest and he’s not afraid to tell it to my face even if he knows I’ll get angry.

Heather: Look, just tell him I’m sorry and that Alejandro and I are okay now.

Duncan picks her up after work and she immediately wants to bring up the messages. She waits until they’re back at her place to say anything.

“How was work Princess?”

“Fine… um… so Heather says she’s sorry?”

He raises an eyebrow at that. He wasn’t expecting that either apparently.

“I told her to only talk to you in case of emergencies. I should have never given her your number, sorry Court.”

“Normally I would be angry, but I’m just curious now.”

“Heather’s been picking fights with Alejandro because she’s afraid of commitment. She found out we got back together, so she asked me how we did it. I told her that she was being stupid and that he clearly loves her. Somehow I end up listening to her break up and get back together with him only to break up again. This was only last month too.”

“Well, I guess they’re back together again. She told me I should tell you that too. Is that why you blocked her? Cause she was being too annoying?”

“No. She obviously loves the guy, she just needed someone to slap some sense into her. I’m surprised she apologized though.”

“Me too, guess she’s really changed. Are you going to unblock her? I think she genuinely feels bad.”

“She should after what she said.”

Courtney waits patiently to see if he would tell her, and just like last time, he does. There were no secrets between the two. Duncan just had a bad habit of forgetting to tell her things that he didn’t think was important.

“She said some shit about you and I got pissed.”

“Typical. Well I don’t care what she thinks. I can’t believe she would talk about me and expect me to help her.”

Her phone buzzes and she can’t help but roll her eyes at the message. It was from Heather again, unbelievable.

Heather: By the way, you’re both invited to my engagement party.

Five-

Courtney learned long ago that she could only count on herself. She learned that the hard way after she started drifting apart from her sister and her parents were no help. Admittedly, part of it is her fault too. They were always interested in different things, it was hard to find common ground.

Things started to change on her birthday. She gets a call from Cate and maybe it’s because they’re older now, but they reconnect. She’s grateful that she at least has one family member she can count on.

The two sisters become inseparable and they tell each other everything. Today was no different.

“I can’t stand him sometimes, but I love him.”

“He’s a good guy Court. You know, I still haven’t thanked him yet.”

“Thank him for what?”

“For bringing us together.”

“What are you going on about Cate?”

“While mom and dad were going through their divorce he reached out to me and asked how I was doing. He told me that you didn’t take it very well and he suggested that we talk about it. I put it off for months. I didn’t know what to say, but then it was your birthday and I knew this was my chance to say something without it being totally awkward. Now here we are.”

“He did that?”

“He did. He really loves you big sis. You picked a good one.”

She smiles at that. It’s true. She didn’t fall for a bad boy after all.

A bonus-

She used to think he ruined her life, turns out he made it so much better. Well, until now.

She almost hangs up at him when she got the phone call. The only reason she didn’t is because her stupid heart told her she still loves him. She really should’ve expected this. He went to juvie, he had a record, why wouldn’t he end up in jail again?

“Princess are you still there?”

“You wanna tell me why you’re locked up? Again!”

“How was I supposed to know I wasn’t allowed to walk inside?”

“The door was locked and it was someone else’s home!”

“Well they need a better security system, that was way too easy.”

“I’m going to hang up on you.”

“Wait! I’m kidding. Sorry, can you please just come bail me out.”

“I’ll think about it.”

She hangs up the phone then screams into the closest throw pillow. It was supposed to be their date night and now her date was in jail. He is never going to hear the end of this once she bails him out. She was all dressed up and now she was going to waste it by going to a detention center.

She was still fuming as she gave the address to the Uber driver. She didn’t even notice that she had arrived until the driver told her so. Except she was definitely not where she needed to be. She was in a neighborhood with nice houses up and down the block. Duncan must’ve given her the address of the house he broke into instead. Great. She was just about to figure out how to call Duncan back when the phone rings again.

“Are you here yet Princess?”

“I thought you only get one phone call.”

“I took another guy’s turn. Where are you at?”

“I’m at the house you tried to break into. You gave me the wrong address!”

“Shit. Sorry, it’s right down the street. Just cut across the park and you should be there.”

“You’re in so much trouble when I get there!”

She had to take a deep breath and calm herself before she started walking. He is so lucky she loves him.

When she enters the park, bright lights catch her attention. She wants to look away, but the path is along the lights. She stops when she reaches the bridge. There he was standing in the middle smiling at her. She heads toward him already asking a bunch of questions, but he doesn’t answer any of it. Instead he pulls her close and kisses her. When her eyes open he’s kneeling on the ground with a ring.

“Courtney, I love you. You’re my favorite girl and I know that everything that happened in my past lead me to you. I know I can be myself around you and still be accepted. We have our ups and downs, and I know I don’t deserve you, but I love you. There’s no one else I can count on without fear of judgement. You’re my princess, marry me?”

“Yes! Of course it’s a yes! I love you too and that’s all that matters.”

She brings him up to kiss him again then he slips the ring on her finger. It fit perfectly.

“You know, you really had me worried.”

“I’m not dumb enough to get caught. I left that life behind me anyways.”

“No, not that. I was worried that you were going to lose your good reputation.”

“Did I scare you that badly? My reputation is anything but good Court.”

“Oh I don’t know Dunkie, I think there are a few people who would say otherwise.”

A/N- There probably could’ve been a better title... anyways, 5 times Courtney finds out Duncan changes someone’s life for the better and the one time he changes her life for the better. (Alternatively you can say that she changes his life for the bonus as well).

[vitanes]

say it’s okay when it’s not

chapter 10: two slow dancers

Lucas tries to pull himself up after the accident, has conversations that make him breathe easier and receives an unexpected confession.

(a/n: internalised homophobia, suicidal ideation)

They were expelled. Lucas was sitting down on a chair next to the principal’s office, his body trembling when his father came out of the office and told him that. He also said Lucas could press charges against them, but at this point, Lucas’ brain had shut off. In all honesty, it stopped properly working the moment he had been attacked and Lucas wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to think normally again.

He lost consciousness due to all of the stress and pain so he only knows what happened from bits and pieces he was able to grasp when people recalled the event. As it turned out, Alexia and Daphne were walking down the hall when they saw what was happening. They quickly contacted the rest. Imane went to get the principal while the others came to Lucas’ rescue. His friends dragged the bullies away from him, landed a few punches themselves and soon enough the whole thing was resolved.

While Lucas was regaining his senses in the nurse’s office, his father was called in and by the time he was let out, his father was ready to share the news and drive him to the flat.

Lucas has been unresponsive ever since he woke up. He hasn’t said a word to any of his friends nor to his father. Under normal circumstances, he’d probably be baffled. He hasn’t seen his old man in months, their last conversations were messy. And yet, Lucas couldn’t find it in himself to care hard enough to even look at him.

He mechanically left the car once they pulled up by the building and didn’t look back at all before walking in.

He’s been broken to pieces and in the grand scheme of things, the issues with his father simply don’t matter.

 ***

 Lucas hasn’t been able to feel anything but pain and indifference for the past few days. He isn’t sure what caused the latter, but he’s certain it’s the only thing keeping him sane, away from exploding so he’ll take it over anything else. He hasn’t been able to eat, he’s been barely getting out of bed and all he’s been doing is sleep a lot. When he sleeps it doesn’t hurt as much. And people say that sleep is good for healing, so perhaps it’s not that bad.

His ribs, abdomen, various parts of his body are ugly purple and he can’t roll over without hissing in pain.

As much as he tends to overthink, this time his mind is blank and hollow. Full of white noise. And maybe that’s good, too. Maybe that’s what he needs right now. The only kind of peace his brain is able to offer him. If he doesn’t think, he can’t keep reliving that nightmare and it’s the best alternative even if it leaves a mere ghost of him present. Either sleeping or staring up at the ceiling with insistent buzzing at the back of his head.

Maybe it’s his phone. Or someone talking to him without him noticing them.

He closes his eyes and doesn’t dream at all.

 ***

 A few things happen. Lucas eats something, takes a shower, snaps out of his daze and has a breakdown over seeing all of the bruises over his skin.

He gets back to his bedroom with only a towel wrapped around his waist, water still dripping and limbs shaking.

He isn’t sure he can face the world ever again. He’s too terrified, too weak, too vulnerable.

He’s gay and that makes him a target.

There are more people who will want to hurt him, he knows that. Each and every person from his school who didn’t do anything while he was being attacked. A whole bunch of students who wouldn’t care if he had been kicked until he wouldn’t be able to wake up.

He doesn’t want it to happen. He doesn’t want to die because of it, God, he doesn’t. He doesn’t want to be ambushed and treated this way again. That’s why he can’t leave the flat. It’s too dangerous.

The world is too cruel out there and Lucas has never been much of a fighter to handle it. But he’s been a survivor and he’ll do what survivors do best – stay in safety, alive. Be hidden, unharmed.

 ***

 At some point, Lucas does what he shouldn’t. He checks his social media.

The moment he stumbles across all of the posts he’s been tagged in since Friday, he can’t breathe properly. There are very few sympathising with him, but the majority of what he sees makes his gut churn. So many people just make fun of it, as if it was nothing. He sees a blurry picture of the boys landing kicks on him and the caption says me vs my responsibilities. There are more of these and Lucas just can’t get his head around the fact his tragedy has been made into a meme.

Videos have been posted as well. With much hesitation, Lucas plays one. He hears people cheering, the way boots contact with his body and wailing. His own. The other videos aren’t any better. Only snippets, a few seconds but it’s enough to make Lucas’s heart beat faster. He’s cold with sweat, body shaking.

There is one clip showing the moment his friends entered. It’s messy, the quality is shit, but Lucas recognises them anyway. Basile is sent flying when he tries to pull one of the bullies away. Arthur jumps on the back of the tallest one, strangling him and yelling obscenities. Yann socks another one in the eye and gets a hit in return that makes him stagger backward, but he doesn’t seem defeated. Eliott runs into the last one and they both end up on the floor, fighting. The video cuts at the moment the principal arrives. Lucas’ wasn’t imagining things when he saw Imane before blacking out because she’s there, too. Trying to get to Lucas.

Something in Lucas’ chest squeezes and he watches the video two more times before moving on. He feels guilty. They were hurt because of him, maybe had to face some consequences for getting into a fight. They’ve got bruises on their skin.

Lucas is nothing but a burden to them. First with rent money, now this. He couldn’t even defend himself. All he did was lie down and be kicked, begging someone to help him. How can he be so weak?

The more he scrolls down the page, the more he realises it’s just a joke for others. He and his friends suffered injuries and people laugh at it.

Lucas clutches the phone in his palm, sniffing. He doesn’t think he can watch more of it. Seeing the way he was attacked like that has caused him so much anxiety he’s almost overflowing. He can feel every hit again when he moves his hand over his chest and lower, his fingers pressing against the bruises. The skin is tender and the harder he presses, the more he can’t take a proper breath. But he can’t stop his fingertips from dancing over the area, making him gasps with each touch. He is in pain, but he can’t stop himself. Can’t stop after what he’s seen. He must prove to himself the videos are real, that it happened and it’s not just a figment of his imagination. Not something that can be easily turned into a joke. That he was genuinely screaming for help, not acting for someone’s entertainment. But no matter how deep he digs his fingers into the raw flesh, he can’t shake off the feeling that he was only a puppet. A part of the show that has now become a meme.

Someone knocks and he jumps between the sheets, his hand stopping in the middle of his ribs. He looks towards the door, letting out a shuddering exhale.

“Lucas, can I come in?” It’s Mika’s raspy and quiet voice. He sounds off and Lucas briefly wonders why. Right after that, he thinks whether he should say yes. He hasn’t shown himself to any of them in a couple of days. And he isn’t sure he’s ready for it. So he stays quiet.

Much to no one’s surprise, Mika takes it as confirmation and opens the door. In the last second, before Mika steps in, Lucas removes his hand from under his shirt. He wouldn’t know how to explain himself.

Mika sits at the edge of Lucas’ bed and the way his gaze is boring into Lucas’ face is so intense Lucas can’t bring himself to meet Mika’s eyes.

“I can’t watch you doing this to yourself,” Mika says, his voice quiet. “You’ve been crying again,” he adds, reaching out his hand. He uses his thumb to wipe under Lucas’ eyes and it’s then that he realises his cheeks are wet. “Let me be there for you. Tell me what’s going on.” He retreats his hand.

“Haven’t you heard?” Lucas asks and his voice sounds so foreign to his own ears, he needs a moment to grasp the fact he said it.

“I want to hear it from you. I– you deserve to have a voice. I haven’t seen anything, I haven’t asked other people who seemed to know. I knew something was going on. But I’m not going to let someone take it away from you. So I stayed away from everything that could give me answers. It’s your thing to tell,” Mika says, his expression serious and Lucas believes him. He’s completely sincere and considering his lack of reaction Lucas was expecting when the pictures were leaked or when Lucas was hit with that ball, he knows Mika is telling the truth.

Lucas bites down on his bottom lip. “But you know,” he says as a statement and there’s so much sadness painted over Mika’s face in that moment, Lucas doesn’t need any other response.

Mika looks down at his lap. “It’s hard not to connect the dots when I see so much of myself in you,” he whispers, his voice sounding distant. He glances back at Lucas. “But maybe I’m wrong. I want to be wrong, have you tell me you’ve become a streetfighter,” he adds sheepishly.

Lucas tries to smile, but considering how Mika’s face falls he thinks he didn’t do a good job. He blinks a few times to will the tears away. He isn’t sure he can say everything without breaking down, but at this point, will he have enough power ever to do that?

Probably not, so the best way to tell his story is from the beginning.

“The reason I didn’t have money for rent was… was because I had to pay someone who caught me kissing a person I shouldn’t have and took pictures of us. But I ran out of money and they leaked the pictures. People have been giving me hell, but the guys from my PE class took it to the extreme. And here I am,” Lucas says and realises that even when he was telling the truth, he was using words so vague, that normally someone would find the whole thing confusing. One look at Mika, though, and Lucas knows he’s been understood.

He doesn’t have to say it out loud in order to be heard. Not when it comes to Mika.

Mika sighs loudly and moves closer. “I wish I had known earlier. I’d have helped you more. What happened to the blackmailer?” Lucas shrugs. He hasn’t heard from them in a long time. “The bullies?”

“They were expelled.”

“What about you?” Mika finally asks and the question is so loaded, Lucas feels like he’s been punched in the face once again. What about him? He’s beaten, lost, broken. He’s got no place in the world, he can’t look at himself and the worst of it all? Sometimes he thinks he deserved what happened to him. He knows he shouldn’t have thoughts like that, but every now and then the small voice in the back of his head, the one that always spits out hatred, will say that they should have hit him harder. “I can hear you thinking but I can’t hear you talking,” Mika says after a few minutes of silence.

And Lucas looks at him then, so earnest to help, so worried. Maybe he’d understand if Lucas told him?

“I feel awful. I don’t want to leave this place because I’m scared. And guilty for dragging my friends into this, but at the same time I think that maybe those guys were right to do this,” he says in one breath, his left hand curled up into a fist.

“Oh, Lucas… don’t. Please, don’t,” Mika says, placing his hand on Lucas’ shoulder. “Under no circumstances would they ever be right to hurt you for being you. And you haven’t dragged anyone into this. Friends help each other. Lucas, hey, look at me.” He puts a finger under Lucas’ chin and tilts his head up. Lucas’ eyes sting from unshed tears.

“What if I hate being me? Being this way?” he asks and Mika scowls at him.

“Tell me, what’s making the way you love someone worse than the way, for example, Manon does? Our sexuality isn’t wrong or dirty, how we feel isn’t any different. And honestly? Sometimes we love more deeply because we have a different understanding of things. Because we’ve been deprived of love in our lives. The way you are is beautiful and in no way, someone beating you up for that could be justified. We are already hated by society, you can’t let them convince you they’re right. You can’t let them win,” Mika says and the way his voice trembles by then end tells Lucas he’s fought enough battles to know what he’s saying.

“But if I was normal everything would be so much easier. No one would hurt me, think I’m gross, I wouldn’t be rejected. I’d have a chance in life.”

Something dark flashes across Mika’s face. “Does that mean you think I don’t have a chance in life? Or other gay people for that matter?” It’s the first time one of them used that word in the whole conversation and Lucas flinches.

“No, I–“

“We are normal, you, me. I know you have so much internalised crap in yourself it’s not easy to overcome, but I really wish you could realise that. We go to school or work, we fall sick and in love, we eat, we fuck, we have families. We’re sad, happy, we pay bills. We have to fight a little harder for everything, but we aren’t some weirdos. There are other groups of people that share the same struggles, you know? And sure, we’re the rejected ones, but when that happens we create our own homes, safe places. There are plenty of things people consider gross, but that can’t define you. You have to live your life for yourself. Don’t let the big white cis straight guy dictate how you should be.” Mika pulls away, his face full determination all over. And a part of Lucas feels inspired, wants to agree. It’s overshadowed by everything that’s been ingrained in his mind throughout the years but even if it’s merely a planted seed, an inkling, it’s an accomplishment.

Lucas wipes his face with his sleeve. “What should I do, though?” he asks in a weak voice.

Mika hums thoughtfully. “You can’t hide. You aren’t in a place where it’s easy for you to accept things, but you can’t hide. You can’t be easy prey. You have to fight back. There’s no way for you to go back into the closet anymore. So you need to embrace it. And even if you don’t believe it now, you know what they say, right?” Mika smiles at him encouragingly, a new fire in his eyes. Oh, how Lucas wishes he could feel the same.

“I don’t,” he breathes out.

“Fake it until you make it. Own it. Be unbearable. If they spit into your eye, you spit back. You don’t let that experience weaken you, but make you stronger. Report them. When they talk shit, talk back. Kiss the boy you like.” It all seems easier said than done. Lucas isn’t sure he could stand up for himself, especially that all other times he was paralysed by fear. But Mika is right with one thing, he can’t go back into the closet. The way he was outed was merciless and didn’t give him a way to deny anything. He needs to find an alternative.

“I don’t like any boy,” he says, remembering that part of Mika’s speech.

Mika looks at him, perplexed. “You don’t?” Lucas shakes his head and Mika blinks in confusion before waving his hand dismissively. “That’s beyond the point. What I mean is that you don’t let them crush you. I’m not telling you everything will get great, no. But don’t make it easy for them.”

There’s a lot of truth in what Mika’s told him so far. A lot Lucas still can’t take to his heart, yet. But maybe one day he’ll be able to feel the same way. One thing that surely reached him is that despite never being a fighter, nothing can stop him from pretending.

Mika can be many things; nosy, loud, all over the place, but the way he cares and gives Lucas will to live outweighs anything else. He’s family, a family that won’t leave Lucas alone with everything that’s been going on. And even if Lucas doesn’t love himself, Mika will love him twice as much. He couldn’t have wished for more.

 ***

 Lucas hasn’t gone to school but decided to leave the flat nevertheless. To clear his mind, maybe, or just get away from these taunting four walls. It’s been a few days since he breathed some fresh air and it could help him figure some stuff out. Do things he’s been postponing for weeks.

He asked Yann to meet up with him, by the lake. He thinks that after days of silence and everything that happened, it was the right moment to talk. And Yann is his person. No matter how much love other people offer to him, no matter how magnetic his connection with Eliott is, Lucas can’t deny the fact Yann is his home and the first one he wants to see.

It’s windy outside and Lucas thinks it may start raining any time. That’s good. There aren’t many people in the park. That way Lucas won’t feel crowded.

He came early, much earlier than the time they set up. To come up with what to say, to have a moment to brace himself before seeing Yann.

To make a phonecall he couldn’t bring himself to make in the flat.

It takes three signals for his mom to pick up.

“Hello? Lucas?” she asks. Even hearing these two words makes Lucas realise how different her voice is from the last time he heard her. How much more life there is in her. His throat closes up and he can’t speak for a moment. He expects his mom to hang up, think he dialed her by accident and simply press the ending-call button. But the call is still on once he finds his breathing again, his mother patiently waiting for him on the other side.

“Hi, mom,” he finally croaks out. His leg starts involuntarily bouncing.

“Hey, honey,” she replies, her voice filled with warmth. Lucas threads his fingers through his hair, making it messy. He should have texted her, it would have been easier.

“Is it okay to call?” he asks, looking around himself as if someone was going to jump out from behind the bush and told him off for calling his mom.

“Of course. It’s been so long since I heard from you,” she says, but there’s no accusation in her voice. Lucas would be angry if he was her. Not calm or understanding.

“How are you?” he asks, bringing his hand up to his face and brushing his thumb over his bottom lip.

“I’m quite well. I’ve been into knitting lately. Helps me relax. We finally found the right medication. I’ve been going to church. You know, the usual,” she says, laughing a little. She’s so different from how he remembers her. Last time he saw her, she was barely present, she was shaky and her skin looked almost translucent. “I’ve missed you,” she admits quietly. “Your dad doesn’t talk with me much so I couldn’t find out anything from him.”

Lucas pinches the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger and grits his teeth. “I’m sorry,” he says and he means it. He abandoned her for months, left her alone in the facility, fully aware his father didn’t give a fuck. He ran away from her when she needed him the most.

“Don’t be. You had the right to live. And I’m your parent, not the other way around. The situation was too much for each one of us. But don’t blame yourself, okay? I’m happy you called. That’s what matters to me. How have you been?” She’s composed for both of them and that’s what keeps Lucas grounded. He has no idea what he’d do if he had to be the comforting one again. Especially given his current situation. He really needs her right now.

“So much has happened, mom. Bad things. I’m not sure I can tell you through the phone,” he mumbles. Yann is going to come soon, he doesn’t have enough time to say half the things he wants to.

“We could meet,” she says and the breath in Lucas’ throat hitches. “Of course only if you want to. I don’t want to put any pressure on you. I know it could be too fast or–“

“No, no. We can,” Lucas cuts in. His mom sounded panicked for a second, like she overstepped the boundaries and Lucas doesn’t want her to feel that way. Not when she’s been trying so hard to reach out to him. “But there’s one condition,” he says, his voice cracking.

“Which is?” she asks hopefully. Lucas takes a deep breath and closes his eyes.

“If you promise you won’t hate me, I’ll meet with you.”

“Why would I hate you?” There’s confusion in her words.

He takes a deep breath and counts to ten before speaking again.

“I’m– I’m gay,” he whispers, checking once again if there’s no one else nearby. It’s the first time he said it out loud like that. His heart is pounding in his chest and his palms are sweaty. He can’t believe that in the end his voice barely broke and he was able to utter it. It feels unreal.

His mother stays quiet for a few seconds and it feels like forever before he hears her voice again.

“Lucas, you are my child. I love you no matter what. Nothing can change it. All I want for you is to be happy. I could never hate you, especially not for something like this,” she says solemnly and Lucas lets out a watery exhale.

“Really?”

“Really,” she assures him.

“But God…”

“God makes no mistakes and even if he made them, it wouldn’t be you. He loves you as much as I do, if not more,” his mom replies and Lucas snorts through his stuffed nose.

“Okay, so we can meet. But not in church,” he says and hears his mom laugh. He missed her laugh.

“Fine, but I’m not meeting you in the facility, either.”

“We will figure something out.” She hums and they stay quiet for a few seconds before Lucas registers Yann approaching the bench he’s been sitting on and sits up straighter. “I have to go, but I’ll text you, okay?”

“Okay. I love you.”

“I love you, too,” he says and hangs up just as Yann sits next to him, nudging Lucas’ knee with his leg in the process.

“Hey, man. Who were you talking to?”

“My mom.”

Yann smiles slightly under his nose. “How’d it go?”

“We’re going to meet up,” Lucas replies, his eyes glued to the cut and bruise on Yann’s cheekbone. “You got hurt,” he changes the topic, frowning. He watched the clip where the boys appeared too many times not to know where this injury is from.

Yann clicks his tongue. “Not a big deal. You’ve got it worse.”

“Still. You got hurt,” Lucas mutters stubbornly, reaching his hand out. He brushes his fingers over Yann’s cheek and sees a muscle in his jaw ticking under his touch. “I’m so sorry.” He lets his eyes fall down.

“Shut up,” Yann replies, grabbing Lucas’ wrist and bringing his hand to his chest. “I’d do it again, thousand times. The same with the guys. When I saw you lying there,” he wraps his fingers around Lucas’ palm and squeezes, “for a second I thought I lost you. They were kicking you and you weren’t moving. I don’t care about the bruise. I care about you, about the fact all those people who gathered around you did nothing, about those bullies getting away with that. Which they won’t.” He turns towards Lucas. “I don’t know if you pressed charges against them, but we all did so. We went to the police, we showed our injuries and the videos people posted online. You promised we weren’t going to let it go if something else happened, so we aren’t.”

Yann drops Lucas’ hand and it falls into his lap. Yann scrubs a hand over his face.

They stay quiet, the only noise being the wind blowing around them, moving the branches and making waves in the lake. Lucas keeps staring at Yann while Yann is looking straight ahead, squinting his eyes.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been this worried. And this applies to all of us. But. Lucas, you’re my best friend. You’re like a brother to me. I wouldn’t forgive myself if I hadn’t stopped them. And I know you’d do the same for me.” Lucas knows this, too. If there was someone causing Yann harm, he’d be an unstoppable force. That’s just their thing. They are protective of each other. Lucas wouldn’t mind getting a few hits if it meant Yann would be safe. So he understands what he means. But it’s not easy to ignore the guilt building up in him, anyway.

Yann got hurt because of him, that fact stands and Lucas can do nothing about it. He hates feeling so helpless. That must be what Yann was going through when he didn’t know what was going on with Lucas for all those weeks.

“Stop being sorry, stop overthinking it. If anyone should be sorry, it’s the assholes who attacked you.” Yann looks at Lucas and jerks his chin up. “How are you holding up?”

Lucas looks to the side, wets his lips with tongue and says, “Could be better.”

Yann hums. “Have you talked with any of the guys or girls?”

Lucas shakes his head. “You’re the first one,” he mumbles and Yann looks bashful for a second before composing himself.

“They all miss you and worry about you. So when you come back to school be prepared for that. Let them have it, okay? I know it may be annoying but you haven’t seen yourself.”

“I don’t know when I’ll come back. I’m scared. And at this point I’m not sure I’ll pass the year with how much I skipped,” he says, scratching the side of his neck.

“Take your time. And don’t worry, I’m sure you will pass. Don’t give up. And if someone makes things difficult for you again, we will wipe the floor with them.”

Lucas glares at Yann, but there’s no malice in it. Once he’s ready, he will get back to school and he’s going to endure his friends’ protectiveness, he will try to face the troubles that are yet to come and rebuild himself from scratch.

“Thank you. I have no idea what I’d do if not you,” Lucas admits and Yann bumps him in the shoulder with his fist.

“Stop saying that or I’ll cry,” he mutters under his breath. The corners of his lips are twitching up and Lucas can’t help but smile as well.

He throws his arm over Yann’s shoulder and brings him closer.

 ***

 Lucas is taking a nap when he’s woken up by someone loudly calling for him. That someone is Mika and Lucas leaves his bed and room only to tell him off. He’s tired and knowing Mika, it’s probably something very trivial.

While stomping towards the place Mika is screaming from, Lucas doesn’t even open his eyes, fully prepared to go back to sleep in a few minutes. He’s in his rumpled t-shirt that’s slipping off his shoulder, briefs and his feet are bare. The floor is cold and Lucas is going to murder Mika for wanting something from him.

When Lucas eventually reaches Mika, he realises they’re standing by the open door and tilts his head to the side.

“Wouldn’t you look who’s just visited us?” Mika says, wiggling his eyebrows and Lucas looks to the open door, confused. His eyes widen momentarily when he sees Eliott standing on their doorstep, looking bashful and holding up two pizza boxes.

Lucas catches his reflection in the mirror placed by the clothing hanger and is mortified by how his puffy his whole face is and every single strand of his hair is facing in the different direction. He can feel warmth climbing up his neck and reaching his face.

“I hope it’s okay to come. If not I can leave the pizzas and go,” Eliott says, looking nervous. Lucas opens his mouth to say that he’d really appreciate it, no matter how much of a prick he’d be, but Mika beats him to it.

“Nonsense, come in,” he ushers Eliott in and takes one of the boxes from him. “It’s for us, right?” Mika asks, eagerly eyeing the box.

“Yeah, I didn’t want to come empty-handed.”

Mika looks meaningfully at Lucas, his lips stretched in a wide grin. “God, you’re perfect,” he says to Eliott. “Have fun!” Mika exclaims, taking his box to the living room where, going by the excited noises coming from the room, the rest of Lucas’ flatmates are.

So Lucas is left with Eliott alone, looking like death, in only an old t-shirt and boxer briefs. They are both looking everywhere but at each other and after some time it gets unbearable.

“I really can go. I don’t want to bother you,” Eliott says, shoving the pizza into Lucas’ arms. For some reason Lucas shoves the box back and they end up pushing the box between each other for a minute or so before they realise how ridiculous the situation is.

“No, come in. I have to say I wasn’t prepared, but it’s fine. Although, I’m tired of talking about what happened. So can we not?”

Eliott smiles at him and nods, his hair jumping with the movement. “Sure. We can just chill.” He shrugs. Only then does Lucas notice a tiny bruise on Eliott’s jawline and his bottom lip being split. Eliott must see him looking because he raises one of his eyebrows. “We aren’t talking about it, are we?” he teases and pushes the box against Lucas again, this time letting go of it completely. Lucas barely manages to catch it. He tries to ignore the pang of guilt when he moves towards his room.

Eliott is right behind him and that makes Lucas very much aware how underdressed he is. It’s frustrating in a way. He doesn’t want to flesh Eliott accidentally. That would only make things awkward.

Lucas locks the door to his bedroom behind them and puts the pizza on the floor. He opens one of his drawers and takes out a pair of sweatpants. While he’s pulling them on, Eliott makes himself comfortable next to the box. Lucas joins him soon enough.

“Pizza again?” he asks, opening the box. Eliott shrugs one shoulder in response.

They start eating, without exchanging many words between the bites. Before they know it, the pizza is eaten and their stomachs full. It’s silent and Lucas finds it pleasant. He likes moments like that with Eliott. He doesn’t feel pressured to say anything. It makes him appreciate what happens in this exact second. The company and the atmosphere.

Lucas slides down to the floor with an ‘oof’ and scrunches his face up. Too much movement and his body aches. He’s missing out on his healing sleep.

“What have you been up to?” Eliott asks, poking him in the shin with his foot.

“Sleeping, being sad. I called my mom. We’re meeting up next week,” he says, looking towards Eliott.

“Oh, that’s nice. I mean the last part,” he replies, rubbing the tip of his nose with his fingers. His cheeks are dusted pink. It’s probably the light.

“I told her that I’m. You know.” Lucas looks meaningfully at Eliott and gets a nod in return. “She said she loved me no matter what,” Lucas mutters, his voice airy.

“I’m happy. You deserve that.” Eliott sounds genuine, but there’s also something nervous about him. Like his head is somewhere else. Lucas cocks an eyebrow at him.

“Everything alright?” he asks and Eliott chuckles.

“Yeah. It’s nothing. Really.” He waves Lucas off. “Can I put on some music?”

“Go ahead.”

Of course, he plays dubstep. What else.

“Oh, I forgot how exquisite your taste is,” Lucas says in amusement. Eliott places a hand to his chest.

“How could you?” he asks, dramatically wiping a fake tear from under his eye.

“I thought that maybe I dreamed it.”

“I doubt your brain is capable of coming up with such excellence,” Eliott says, standing up. He shakes some invisible dust off his clothes and moves the pizza box to the side with his foot. He extends his hand towards Lucas and looks at him solemnly. “May I have this dance?”

Lucas eyes him and the palm quizzically, but eventually grabs it and lets himself be hauled up until he’s chest to chest with Eliott.

“I’m not going to start jumping to your renovation sounds,” Lucas tells him, looking him straight in the eyes. Not realising their proximity yet.

“Don’t worry, you don’t have to,” Eliott says. He’s still holding Lucas’ left hand and his fingers brush the knuckles of Lucas’ right hand gently before he grabs it and puts it on his shoulder. He places his own palm on Lucas’ waist and brings their entangled hands up.

They start swaying and Lucas looks at Eliott like he’s grown a second hand.

“Are we slow dancing? To fucking dubstep?” he asks in disbelief. Eliott ducks his head.

“Yes, we are,” he replies simply and pulls Lucas closer, until they are flush against each other. Lucas yelps, but doesn’t say anything else, too baffled by what’s happening.

Lucas lets Eliott lead them around, following his steps. They move slowly enough for him not to step all over Eliott’s feet or lose breath. His ribs aren’t aching as much and at some point, he’s lulled by the rhythm so much he rests his chin on Eliott’s shoulder. He gets even closer to him, but he doesn’t make anything out of it. Surprisingly enough, he’s content. And relaxed. The dubstep is only a background noise, he’s pretty sure Eliott has his own melody playing in his mind and he makes Lucas follow it.

Lucas closes his eyes and sighs out loud.

Eliott intertwines their fingers and Lucas can feel his breath ghosting over his neck. “I have to tell you something,” Eliott murmurs.

“Yeah?”

“It’s probably obvious by now, but I want to say it anyway,” he pauses and exhales loudly, making goosebumps break out over Lucas’ skin. “I like you. I’ve liked you ever since I saw you. I know my timing is awful. I know that we haven’t been friends for long, but I wanted to be honest with you,” Eliott admits, his voice strained.

Lucas opens his eyes. He can feel his heart speeding up. He misses a step.

“I know I’m putting a lot on you. I don’t… I don’t expect anything from you. I don’t want things to change between us. There’s so much shit going on. So don’t say anything, okay? I just wanted to let you know.” Eliott’s grip on Lucas’ hand tightens for a moment and Lucas can feel how despite sounding calm, he’s trembling.

Lucas is still shocked by the confession, but they are friends first and foremost. Eliott is distressed. So Lucas pushes closer against him and starts rubbing circles with his thumb over his shoulder. He hopes it’s comforting.

“Is it still okay? Us, doing that?” Lucas doesn’t see a reason why it wouldn’t be. He nods. “Can we stay like this a little longer?” Eliott asks in a small voice.

Lucas squeezes his hand.

“Yeah.”

[real-pcy-exo]

Chanyeol x reader (fluff)

Genre: domestic au (basically honeymoon trip)

A/N: I'm so so sorry. It is like almost 4k words but I use the app to write and my phone isn't letting my use desktop version on google. So if you don't want to read it, you have to scroll a bit down. @babybunnysworld I'm sorry for the delay. I hope this reached your expectations or at least went near it. Hope anyone reading it enjoys!! 💓💓

Everything was perfect for once. No sasaengs, no boss calling you in for work, no Baekhyun making weird noises in the background. Everything was calm thanks to your husband. You husband Chanyeol. The first date you guys went to, before getting ready, he sent you a picture of his dog wishing him good luck for the date. You knew he was a keeper then. And now that he is your husband and you couldn't ask for anything else. The wedding ceremony was a disaster thanks to your friends and his wanting to have "fun". But it was perfect at the same time. It was you who chose the venue for honeymoon. Halkidiki, Greece. Not too fancy yet romantic enough to spend your honeymoon there. Because you weren't on a honeymoon with EXO's Chanyeol, you were with your husband Park Chanyeol.

<p/>The first thing Chanyeol did after arriving at airport was calling a cab but not without mentioning his new title, his married tittle. You didn't forget to show of the ring in every chance you had gotten. But people around you didn't mind. They could see the love. The cab had arrived just in time. "On our way to the hotel, can you please point out places I could take my wife to?" He asked the driver while you giggled. You still were yet to get used to it, being called wife by him but it was a good change. You tapped Chanyeol's shoulder to get his attention, "It's fine. It'll be more adventurous if we figured out what to do by ourselves." Chanyeol took your hand from his shoulder and intertwined your and his hand, "Sure. Whatever my lady wants, my lady gets."

The hotel was beautiful, similar to mansions Disney princesses lived in. Yet it was modern and had a reasonable price. You told Chanyeol to get your bags out of the car while you got your room keys. The receptionist was busy clicking away in her computer when you went there. "Excuse me, I'm Mrs. Park. My husband made a reservation for us under the name Park Chanyeol, it is a honeymoon package."

"Sorry ma'am, there is no reservation under the name Park Chanyeol."

"Oh umm, can you try Park Y/N then?"

"Still nothing, sorry. Are you sure you made reservation ma'am?" By this time your face had become red due to embarrassment. You were sure he told you that he made reservation though. But before you could say anything, Chanyeol came to your rescue. "I'm sorry but can you try one last time? Under the name Y/L/N Chanyeol?"

"It's right here. I'm sorry for the delay. Here is the your key to your room. Have a great vacation here!" You look at Chanyeol puzzled. He smiled while taking the key in one hand and taking your hand in another, "If you can be Mrs. Park, I can be Y/L/N Chanyeol. No rule I can't take your name. I do belong to only you."

"Oh Chanyeol, so cheesy."

"Yet you still fell in love with me."

The first thing you guys did after unpacking was get out to have some adventure. "I was thinking maybe we should have a long romantic walk along the beach! Or we could get food, go back to our room, sit in the balcony and watch the sunset." Chanyeol told you as you took his hand in yours. You look up to him with a grin, "We both know if we go on a walk, it's most likely to end with you having to carry me back. We all know who goes to gym regularly." "I do! Oh I totally forgot to tell you. So this girl who also goes to the gym but never works out, came to me and started flirting. At first I had like, zero clue. Thought I made a new friend. The world we live in, can't even make a new friend when you have a handsome face." He looked at you with a kicked puppy face before continuing, "So she asks me out on a date and I'm like, girl are you for real?? She totally does not follow me on Instagram." He again paused to give you a weird look, "Like why not? Anyway, I tell her that my beautiful fiance might not like the idea and I love her too much to disappoint her" you paused him to ask, "What's the reason behind you telling me this story Yollie?" "That I love you of course. God, I married a really beautiful but equally dumb girl!" You hit him in his head, "Hey bean sprout! Do you want to sleep in the couch for a week or something?" He pouted as he rubbed his head slowly, "Have you decided what we will be doing today yet or do I have to continue to tell you about that gym girl?" You narrow you eyes at him, "Sunset one, definitely. And tell me if she is bothering you too much. I know how to deal with these types of ladies. No one bothers my husband!" Chanyeol shook his head at you being melodramatic before taking your hand and leading the way.

Except he did not know where you guys were headed himself. You both were so excited that you both left your phones back at your hotel room. Chanyeol started leading you through the bazaar totally unfazed pointing at stuff he thought was cool. He finally stopped in front of a small restaurant that looked new but aesthetically pleasing. He took you in there but not before taking a selfie with you infront of it and posting it on his Instagram captioning "With my darling wife 😛" The store was equally beautiful from the inside and you wondered why everything in Greece was so beautiful. But your train of thought got interrupted by Chanyeol who took menu and found a table far in the corner for both of you. He handed over a menu to you. While you were going through the menu, Chanyeol indicated a waiter to come to your table. "Welcome to vivapolo. I'm Jason, your waiter for today. What can I get for you today, beautiful?" The waiter was facing you completely discarding Chanyeol even though he was the one who called the waiter. He just pouted and looked at you with that sad puppy eyes. Smiling secretly you looked at the waiter, "I'm so sorry. I can't choose what to eat. I'm sure my husband can choose for me. Right honey?" With an obvious frown replacing the puppy face he had, he gave the waiter those menus he took saying, "We'll have the garlic bread and two chocolate milkshakes."

Finally with the waiter gone, you noticed the restaurant playing some slow song in the background, probably from the 90's. You looked in front of you to find Chanyeol offering you a hand to dance. As soon as you took it, Chanyeol gracefully made you stand on your feet before taking you to the middle of the restaurant where there was a free space for people who wanted to dance. Chanyeol and you had taken waltz dancing classes before the wedding ceremony so you both could have a romantic first dance without Chanyeol stepping on your toe. He still accidentally stepped on your toe at the wedding though, but not while dancing. It was when you guys were about to cut the cake. He got too excited then. While Chanyeol slowly rocked both of you from side to side, you looked at him. You realized, you were alive. You were alive and you loved this man right in front of you. The man who punched a guy for the first time because that guy catcalled you. The man you stayed up all night just so could listen to all your insecurities and worries. The man who waltz into your life but you did not have the heart to complain. Your eyes teared up a little bit realizing that the man in front of you took a vow to spend the rest of his life with you despite any sickness and health or ups and downs. And you trusted him to do so. Maybe so that many marriage ends in a bitter note with divorces. But you trusted this man as much as you loved him. You knew that the brightest star in the universe could run out of fuel but you still won't run out of love for him. The sincerety that you have seen in his eyes proved that he loved you just as much. Chanyeol finally noticed your teary eyes and farrowed his eyebrows. He had cute frown on when he asked you, "What's wrong babe? Do you want to go back to the hotel? Do you feel uncomfortable here?" You knew you he would keep asking questions if you didn't tell him something. You looked him in his eyes before saying, "Nothing is wrong." "But-" "I was just thinking. Thinking how much I love you." And that was enough. He looked back in your eyes with the same passion. Words didn't need to be exchanged sometimes. You knew he would stay by your side even after you've grown old and wrinkly and complaining about stupid modern technology you didn't know how to use. You hoped he knew that you would stay with him also, even if he became bald after having white hairs, complaining about girls not wearing appropriate clothes and they never could look as sexy as you. Still moving from side to side in sync with the beat, you both got lost in each others eyes. Maybe in an alternative universe, you never met him. You were just a fan living thousands of miles away from him. You were only a fangirl with big dreams of loving him and he would never get to know you. But in this universe, you had him. You had him as your love of life, had him as your husband and had him as your protector from any sadness that may come. You never felt so vulnerable before. But it was fine because Chanyeol was just as much vulnerable with you as well. The music stopped and so did your dancing but not the love, never the love.

After the finishing the small portion of food Chanyeol ordered for you (delivered by a new waiter for some unknown reason but you had a guess) you guys made your way back to the hotel. Apparently you guys were not lost. Chanyeol knew where he was going. But he wanted to see your panicked face. Upon reaching the hotel, Chanyeol went ahead to take a shower but not before offering you save some water. "No thank you Chanyeol. I do love the environment but I have to call dad to check up on him." He nodded and went inside the washroom leaving you alone. When you heard the water running, you reached out for your phone to call your dad. He was really happy that you had found love but he was also sad that you had found love. You mom reassured you that he was just being a typical dad and he loved Chanyeol very much. After three rings your dad picked up the call, "Finally remembered your old man?" You whined out a "Dad~"

"What? Should I not be upset that you have another man know your life and totally forgot about your father?"

"Oh dad! Always so melodramatic. You know that I love you too, don't you?" "Yeah yeah. That punk better treat you right though."

"We already had this conversation before so we are not having it again. I called to check up on you and mom."

"You didn't to need dear. You should enjoy your honeymoon without worrying about our health. We will find for a week."

"Oh so now that you want to be left alone with mom, it is fine if I don't call you. So typical of you."

By the time you hung up your call with your dad, Chanyeol emerged from the washroom with only a towel wrapped low around his torso. Even after 4 years of dating, you still had yet to get used to seeing Chanyeol like that. But it was not your fault partially. He had quiet a toned slim figure with biceps to die for. You didn't stop yourself from shamelessly checking out your own husband. But in your defense, he was yours to keep now. He was used to it. Yet it still didn't stop him from teasing you. "Does my darling wife like what she sees?" "She definitely does-" "Does she want the-" "not." Chanyeol looked at you, he knew you were lying but he could neither guess not understand why.

"Since that gym girl likes your body and I obviously have higher standards than her, I do not like what I see at all mister. Not at all. Like who goes to gym but doesn't workout?" Chanyeol sighed, now he regretted telling you that story. He should have known that it would come back to kick him in his own ass. But all he wanted to do was make you feel like he only loved you, only had eyes for you. "So we can do this. My darling wife and I don't do any funny business" he paused to wiggle his eyebrows at you, "Unless you want to. And we can just sleep and cuddle to get rest. We can go to the beach tomorrow." You opened the luggage to throw a T-shirt and a boxer at him, "No funny business tonight. I want to wear that swimsuit I bought without anyone getting ideas of what you did." He smirked at you, "Then they would get to know I did you."

"Oh shut up." You said to him without a bite and curl up next to him. He held you close until you could feel each others heartbeat fast. "I love you my darling wife." Chanyeol whispered to you. You looked him in the eyes, "And I love you too just as much." You also whispered back scared to break the atmosphere. It was serene. You got Chanyeol's attention again by whispering to him, "What if you were not an idol but I was? Would everything be the same?" His grip on you tightened before he answered. "If you were an idol, I would have become your number one fan. Just like how I am right now. I would fight for your love just like you fought for mine. I would be strong and patient for you just like you were for me." You could hear sincerety in his voice. You smiled a bit, "Just so you know, if I was an idol and had loads and loads of fan, your smile would still be the brightest and catch my attention even in the sea of millions." For the rest of the night you and Chanyeol whispered sweet nothings to each other knowing that it didn't actually needed to be told. Yet you guys still made crazy scenarios and love stories for both of you. But you found a little bit truth in all of them. Because no matter what happened, how far away you both lived, how different your languages were, he would catch your attention just like you caught his. And the story would still end with both of you together. The night slowly ended with breaths slowly becoming steady and heartbeats becoming one. You heard a myth ones, soulmates or also known as true lovers heartbeats would sync when they are close. You are not the one to believe in myths. But you definitely believed in facts.

The next morning, a blinding light woke you up. At first you were confused if because you were sure you closed the curtains last night. But upon opening your eyes you saw Chanyeol giving you his signature smile. You then understood what almost blinded you even if your eyes were closed. "Great, now the sun is jobless. Some good work you did there Yollie." Chanyeol kept looking at you before speaking, "Did you know that I got married?" You acted surprised, "Really? And who is the unlucky girl?" Chanyeol poked your side before keeping up the act, "Maybe she is unlucky, maybe she isn't. But I am definitely sure that I am the one who was lucky enough to get her attention. To get her love. She is very beautiful, you know?"

"Oh really. You sound whipped. Is she more beautiful than me?"

"Of course! She is more beautiful than anyone but sadly tied to my mother. My mom and she, both so beautiful." You smiled at him at that, "She indeed is. I miss her. Let's cut this honeymoon short and go to her. I want to be babied by her again. Chanyeol, she even fed me on our wedding day! We should have went to her than come here." Chanyeol pouted at that, "Am I not enough for you anymore my darling wife?" You sticked your tounge out to him before rolling down the bed and heading towards the washroom, "You could have been. But what can I do? My husband is too perfect for you to compete with."

By two hours or so you both got ready. If course he did not let you leave the room with only your swimsuit. Apparently something about "others seeing his beautiful darling wife" and "you did not let me mark you". But once you both got to leave the room (you wore on of Chanyeol's T-shirt on top of the swimsuit which basically was a dress to you because someone could not handle jealousy at all but it was kind of cute. Not that you would ever admit it in front of him) and him with a T-shirt and shorts. You both looked like a typical newly married couple with the bubble of love and affection surrounding you guys. He held your hand as you both found a spot to lay a piece of cloth down and sit. He left you there to grab a bottle of water. But you guessed that was a bad decision since as soon as he left, a guy approached you and sat down beside you really close without even asking permission. "Prude" was the only thing you could think of. "Hey there sexy." He gave a smirk. He could have looked good but the way he approached girls made him seem like a creep. "I am so sorry. Can you please look for another spot? I would totally move so you could sit here and enjoy the weather alone but my husband specifically chose this spot." He either didn't hear or chose not to hear and continued to shamelessly checking you out (you were so close to busting his nuts and taking away his chances of becoming a father, ever) he finally looked into your eyes, "I bet he doesn't even treat you right."

"Excuse me but I don't think I have to learn how to treat my darling wife from you who can't even take a hint to go away. Babe, here you go, the water. Stay hydrated." He paused to hand you over the bottle he got with a smile before turning to guy again with his arms folded in front of his chest (obviously flexed) and chin high. He looked quiet intimidating adding height. "Leave" a sort of low growl left from his mouth. You would have been turned on if it were not for that (disgusting) guy turning towards you completely discarding Chanyeol's threat, "I own a jewelry store. How about I take you there? You can take anything you want." You made a disgusted face and looked at Chanyeol with pleading eyes. You just wanted to spend some time with your husband, was it too much to ask? He tapped the guy's shoulder to get his attention, "Now if you wanted to steal my wife from me, do it right. Babe, let's sum up the money he is basically offering you and give them to an orphanage. Yoora noona was too busy to do that last month. We could arrange a movie night for all the kids." Your whole face lit up at that. You first found about that said orphanage by helping a lost kid go back there. You were shopping before your 2nd anniversary buying a gift for Chanyeol. A kid who looked very similar to Baekhyun was standing in the middle of the shop and crying yet no one payed any attention yo him. As you had tried to approach him, a worker stopped to inform you, "Don't. He is from the orphanage few blocks away. His mom left him here around 6 months ago. He might only my 2 and a half year old but he remembered. He comes here by himself every once in a while and cries. It was hard to watch at first. But if you try to talk to him, you will get more attached to him. You will feel more bad." You sadly looked at the worker before completely ignoring her and going to that kid. You crouched down to his height, "Hello! I am an auntie. I will not hurt you. Can I take you back to your home?" He looked confused, "Auntie, home?" You nodded, "Yes, home. Not mine but one day I will try to take you there, okay? Auntie will give you loads of love." The baby only nodded and took your hand leading the way back to the orphanage. You wanted to adopt the toddler but you knew you and Chanyeol were not ready for a kid yet. So you only mentioned the orphanage and about trying to contribute. Of course he had no problem with that. So when he mentioned that orphanage again you got really happy. You hoped now that you guys were married, you could adopt baby Adam. Obviously you wanted to have your own baby with Chanyeol as you and him had discussed about that before. But you wanted to give Adam the love he deserves. You looked at that guy while interlocking you hand with Chanyeol's much bigger one's, "I am happy with what I have. Because this is all I ever asked for." Chanyeol interrupted you, "Technically no. I have a surprise for you. Follow me. Bye bye weird guy who just got rejected by my darling wife because I am not someone you can compete with." He pointed at that guy with his unoccupied hand and started leading you back to the hotel. When you both reached the hotel room (you were obviously sad that you could not even enjoy the beach) he covered your eyes and opened the door with his foot. "I want you to meet-" he uncovered your eyes, "Baby Park Adam. The newest member of our small family." Your eyes were clouded with tears so could not see Adam running towards both of you. Chanyeol picked him up and hugged you from the side, "My darling wife and my sweet son. How lucky I am! Look at my so loveble family!!" You looked at them knowing that your future is going to be filled with smiles, fun and love. (It was safe to say that poor Chanyeol didn't get to do any funny business with since Adam was there. But he never regretted his decision.)<p/>

[qoslinqs]

Untouchable (Chapter 2)

Tony Stark: genius, crime syndicate leader, billionaire, and stolen art collector.

A man who was many things.

Now, he was a criminal informant too.

OR: An alternate universe where Tony Stark is the head of a major crime family in Manhattan and gets caught.

.°•.° .°° .°•.°

Pairing: Steven Rogers/Anthony Stark (STONY)

Rating: PG-13

Warnings for this chapter: None

Word count:  2000 something (~15 minutes)

Author’s Note at the end of the chapter.

Chapter Two: Landscape with the Good Samaritan

        An hour had passed. Anthony Stark and Pepper Potts sat silently in the back of the unmarked FBI vehicle as it pushed through the New York City traffic. Thousands of thoughts raced through Tony’s head, as he watched the honking taxis and people rush across the streets. He always dotted all of his i’s and crossed all of his t’s. What went wrong? Why was he sitting in the back of an FBI car?

        There was always the possibility that this was a mistake- and that the evidence they had for whatever fancy law code that he had violated was falsified. Yet he was haunted by the chance that it was true- that they had caught him. He was always twenty steps ahead; why was it now that they were able to catch up?

The black Ford Explorer pulled into an underground parking garage and stopped. Glancing at Pepper, Tony noticed the worry that showed on her face. Her leg bounced up and down, and she seemed to shudder with every breath she took.

        Pepper- she was Anthony’s right-hand woman. Even more than that, she was one of his best friends. The lifestyle that Stark chose had consequences, and he knew that; however, getting his best friend arrested- when she was only toe-deep in the criminal world- was never a consequence that he had thought of. Seeing her frightened eyes and her body shaking with fear made Tony’s heart sink. This was his fault.

        “Pep. Pepper. Look at me,” he whispered, “Take a deep breath.”

        She looked at him nervously as she breathed in and out, almost desperately gasping for air.

        “I-...I’m scared, Tony,” she said, trembling.

        With her admission, he murmured, “...Yeah. Yeah, I am too.”

        Special Agents Maximoff and Barnes soon left their seats and opened the doors for the two. It was time for them to depart. As he began to slide out of the car, he turned to Pepper.

        “Pepper…I’ll make this right.”

        Led in a different direction, Barnes and Stark walked to an elevator far from the ladies. A weight pushed down on his head as he walked; he tried to shake away any anxious thoughts. In the elevator, Tony felt the male agent glare into his backside, practically burning a hole into his shirt. Once the elevator reached the twentieth floor, it came to a stop, and opened with a short ding. Agent Barnes gently pushed Stark out of the lift, grabbed his arm, and led him towards a set of desks; rows of white desks that were in neat rows. On each desk was a computer, many different documents, and other office supplies. It was the workplace of the lower agents in the division.

        While Barnes did not declare his intentions for idly standing in the middle of the office, Stark assumed it was because he awaited the command of the higher ups. The agent seemed to be a quiet man, not exactly enjoying the fact that he had to babysit the stolen art collector. Instead of speaking with Tony, Barnes scrolled through his phone while Tony observed the nearby desks.

        Names of several criminals were scribbled across different files, documents, and photographs. Noticing one in particular, labeled “UNKNOWN SUSPECT,” he squinted in an attempt to get a better look. The document was practically empty, only stating that three of the FBI’s key witnesses to take down a Russian drug operation were killed. The only evidence left at the scene was imprints of shoes that appeared to be high heels, indicating that the killer was most likely a woman.

        Almost immediately, Tony made the connection. He knew who the suspect was, and he was fortunate enough to avoid her; the talk of the town was that the woman was named Black Widow. He did know some who had the pleasure of meeting the murderer. Of course, those people never lived to see the next day.  Supposedly, she was a former KGB agent who defected and became a hitwoman. She only worked on hired hits, and never went out of her way to find jobs. The only way to get in touch with her was through a code, given to a man in a shady bar at Brighton Beach in Brooklyn. Somehow, through whatever the Russians used to communicate and deal shady business, the message got to her and she met you at random. It was rumored that Black Widow was so terrifying and intimidating that when you saw her you knew it was her, and if you were her hit, you would die of fright almost immediately.

        Looking back at the files, he didn’t notice too many big players. While there were a few more, none were as infamous as Black Widow or himself. It seemed that the Bureau either didn’t prioritize the capture of big criminals or didn’t know of them. And yet, he thought, they got me.

        Interrupting his snooping, an agent walked to Barnes and murmured something inaudible. Within the next second, Tony was whisked into a different hallway filled with private offices. As the pair walked past the rooms, the workers stood up or peeked out of their workrooms to see the infamous Anthony Stark. Once the two arrived at their destination, Tony was uncuffed and told to sit at an old, worn table. Looking around, he noticed a mirror and not much else.

        “Is that the one way glass that you see in TV shows?” he joked, grinning stupidly at Barnes.

        “Shut up,” the agent said, annoyed, “Agent Rogers will see you shortly.”

        The door clicked shut, and Tony heard about twenty different locking mechanisms click into place. If it was anything like the shows he watched, this would take forever.

        After what felt like an entire day- there were no clocks in the room- the blond agent stepped into the room. He sat in a chair on the opposite side of Tony, placed some folders on the table, and he raised his hand to be shaken.

        “Supervisory Special Agent Steve Rogers. You’re the talk of the town here, Mr. Stark,” he chuckled, as he made himself comfortable.

        Tony raised his eyebrows at the remark, and retorted, “I haven’t heard about you, Agent Rogers, but it’s great to know the FBI is in my business.”

        Almost immediately, Steven’s expression hardened, seemingly annoyed at the man’s jokes. Noticing this, Tony scoffed.

        “What? Only you’re allowed to have fun? Fine. Then let’s cut to the chase. I want my lawyer.”

        The blond shook his head as he explained, “Unfortunately, when you cross into my territory, you no longer have the privileges we give others.”

        Before the criminal could protest, the agent asked, “Why do you think you’re here?”

        “To entertain you,” Tony jeered, “No one told me shit. How would I know why I’m here?”

        Rogers winced at the swear, as he shook his head, “You know why you’re here. We have evidence, Mr. Stark. You shouldn’t lie to the Bureau.”

        Opening one of the manila folders, he revealed several photographs of artwork in a warehouse. Each photo had a caption that followed the lines of “STOLEN, CONFIRMED TO BE IN POSSESSION BY ANTHONY STARK AT PRIVATE LOCATION.”

        Staring at each photo, Tony’s blood ran cold. He could easily identify each work. They were all his, from Angel Appearing to the Shepherds to The Guitar Player, each was one that he had spent countless hours retrieving from illegal art dealers around the world.

        “Are these yours, Mr. Stark?” Steven asked. Tony did not respond.

        He began to feel dizzy, as if his world was collapsing upon itself.

        “An agent saw your private collection,” the blond continued, “after you invited him yourself.”

        What?

        “While we call him Agent Wilson here, you may know him as Paint.”

        Rubbing his chin and looking at each of the photos, the criminal tried to maintain his composure. Tony remembered bringing Paint to his gallery, but he never seemed to arouse any suspicion. In an attempt to save face, he gestured to the folder of photographs.

        “How did you get photos of these reproductions? When I was with Paint-...or, well...Agent Wilson- he was alone and didn’t have any cameras.”

        Almost immediately, the man replied, “Reproductions, Mr. Stark? We’ve forensically authenticated all of these works. We received a warrant to search your warehouse. I’ve seen it all. It’s impressive. If only Wilson had been able to deliver the Degas painting. Miss Potts said you were incredibly excited and had waited for this deal for over eight months.”

        The cat had caught the mouse. Anthony Stark was cornered.

        He froze in his seat, searching his brain for answers. He needed to gain the upper hand. For his freedom. For Pepper.

        He could confess his crimes. Maybe that would let Pepper go free, and he’d take the fall. He mentally hit himself on the head. No, you idiot. She’s an accomplice to your crimes.

        He could slide a few million dollars into FBI funding. Isn’t bribery also against the law?

        Then, the answer struck him. With the thousands of ideas racing through his head, one made it to the finish line.

        “Black Widow,” he blurted out. “A defected KGB agent.”

        Puzzled, Agent Rogers furrowed his eyebrows.

        “And why do I need to know this?”

        “Because she’s your unknown suspect.”

        Steve Rogers grabbed a pen and marked the name on a manila folder. Staring into Stark’s eyes, he tried to figure out how the criminal knew that the FBI was attempting to name an unidentified murderer. Her files were classified, and no information of the case had been released to the public. It was obvious by his blank face and scrunched nose that he couldn’t figure it out.

        “One of your field agents left a document out,” the criminal answered, “I thought the Bureau would be more careful with information, but it seems otherwise.”

        As if a weight was lifted off of his back, Steve relaxed and his face returned to its normal, stoic demeanor. While it was a bit concerning that his agents left their documents out in the open, it was better than someone leaking classified details. However, it was obvious that the details of Black Widow weren’t exactly relevant to Stark’s case.

        “Why are you telling me this, Mr. Stark?”

        “To be released by the FBI. Both Pepper Potts and I. I want full immunity. I’m giving you a chance to avenge your witnesses.”

        The agent shook his head. “I’m afraid that I can’t grant you that; it’s not in my power nor am I interested. You’re a criminal, Mr. Stark.”

        “Then who will listen? I’ll talk to the man in charge,” Tony retorted. “He’ll understand the importance of the information.”

        Stark looked to the mirror. He had seen it on TV shows, so hopefully, it was true. Clearing his voice, he spoke to the mirror with some uncertainty.

        “I have intelligence on the most notorious criminals in New York City. I looked at your files. They are empty, yet you and I both see the streets drowning in crime. I’m not the only fish in the sea. You need me. I can provide that information to catch them all. You don’t trust me? I know who killed your witnesses. Black Widow. I can bring her to you on a silver platter.”

        Within a minute, the door to the interrogation room unlocked. A man with an eye patch walked in, and Steven Rogers stood up to greet him. Tension began to rise in the air.

        “Sit down, Rogers. No need to stand,” said the newcomer as Rogers returned to his former position. “I’m Nick Fury. Special Agent-In-Charge of the Organized Crime unit. What’s this about Black Widow?”

        Relief welled up in Tony’s chest. The tide was turning in his favor.

        “Three key witnesses to testify against the Russian mob all found dead. The only thing that’s left is high-heeled shoe marks. The most famous hitwoman on the market is Black Widow, a Russian. Unless a guy can rock heels and murder like her, she’s your woman. Connect the dots, Agent Fury. I can get her for you.”

        Standing there, Nick Fury watched Tony Stark. He thought of the man’s future; the potential that the criminal could bring to the Bureau. He made his decision rather easily.

        “What do you want for Black Widow?” he asked.

        “Immunity for Pepper Potts and I. I’ll continue running Stark Industries. No one needs to know of this encounter. I’ll be a criminal informant for as long as you need me. Then, I’ll go free.”

        Having sat there quietly, Rogers finally raised objections. “With all due respect, sir, we can’t just let a criminal run fr-”

        “Quiet, Rogers,” the head agent commanded. “We’ll put a tracker on your leg. When you’re not on missions, you are bound to travel between Stark Industries and your Manhattan home.”

        With a grin, Tony asked, “Can my driver still drive me?”

        “Don’t get cocky, Stark. Your driver can still drive you, but you and your unit- Potts and Hogan- will always be supervised by Agent Rogers and his team. You are to report to him.”

        Eyes widening, both the agent and criminal exclaimed, “Wait wh-”

        “Didn’t I tell you to be quiet, Agent Rogers? Stand down, Stark. These are my terms. Take it or face ten or more years in prison.”

        Without hesitating, he raised his hand to be shaken.

        “Easiest decision I’ve ever made in my life. If it’s ten years in prison or hanging out with the FBI, I’d much rather spend it being babysat by Agent Rogers.”

Thanks for reading! `7`)/

Story info: Updated twice a month, always beta-read, not taking requests

Chapter title reference: Yet another one of Rembrandt's painting, still not found.

My beta readers: Claire, Jadene, Alexandra

I wouldn't have been able to write this without my beta readers!

I take prompt requests for one shots here, on my Twitter.

Check out the fic on Ao3!

[myneighborhood-thelake]

Half-Vineman Triathlon 1998

The Snapshot:

Swim: 34:37 reasonable time - I have been skipping Master's lately T1: 3:01 it took a little extra time to stash my wetsuit in the gear bag Bike: 2:39:25 Oh Yeah!  10 minutes faster than projected T2: 1:15 very nice, just as planned Run: 1:59:18 things fell apart here - more later

Total: 5:17:38 beat my 5:30 plan, but could have been faster

Important Items:

1.  Pacing on the run course is bull@#$% (which I will not delve into). 2.  Ibuprofen is a gift directly for [substitute your choice of diety here] (which I will delve into).

Pre-Race Bumped into Kevin Kennedy as he was exiting the 2:00pm pre-race meeting. We both wanted to drive the bike course.  Kevin felt that he would get a better idea of the course by navigating, I can understand a course better when I drive, so it worked perfectly.  Pre-driving the course was an excellent idea (great navigating Kevin).

Funny note:  as we were driving up Chalk Hill Road, we kept asking ourselves - "where is the hill."  After hearing so much about Chalk Hill we were expecting something similar to Mile 41 at Wildflower.  Chalk is not easy, but it is certainly no Mile 41.

I crashed with Albert Li at the Super 8.  Albert really believes in his morning coffee, and he was kind enough to bring me a cup too.  Thanks Albert.

THE SWIM:

As expected, I was a little slower than at Wildlfower and I had to work harder than I wanted to, but it is my fault for skipping my Master's workouts. Time: 34:37

T1

Right on target.  Because of the two transitions at Vineman, you must pack your gear in a marked bag that is transported to the finish.  My wife was unable to make the trip this time, or I would have paid her off to catch my wetsuit at the swim finish.  Packing a wet wetsuit into a plastic bag adds a minute to a normal transition.

Funny Note #2:  I pulled my helmet on and it felt very odd.  Yes, it was on backwards.  I rearranged my helmet and looked up to see a photographer snapping my picture from two feet away.  I will probably be in next year's program with a caption reading:

"Chin strap violations and wearing your helmet backwards will result in disqualification."

THE BIKE:

I had a very simple plan.  Please note that this plan made absolutely no sense to me about two months ago, but I swear that it works

"Hammer that flats and downhills, recuperate on the uphills."

As planned - I hammered every flat and downhill.  When I hit an uphill I sat up and spun (spinned, spurned?) my way to the top.  I noticed an interesting situation among the people who I was riding near.  Some guys would hammer the hills, even getting out of the saddle.  They would pass me by about +2mph on the way up.  When we hit the top of the hills they would be tired and use the descent to catch their breath.  Whereas I would feel pretty fresh at the atop, and on the downhills I would hit my big gears and fly.  They would rest and I would easily pass them with about a +10mph delta.

I held my HR at 170 for about 20+ miles.  After that I slipped back to a more reasonable HR of 160 for the rest of the ride.  I alternated Cytomax (my own) and water (aid stations) in my JetStream, and I ate a Gu every 25-30 minutes.  I admit - I let the tops to the Gu packs fly away in the breeze, but I remembered to stash the empty packets until the aid stations where I discarded them properly.  I think that I ate and drank very well - I never felt either full or low.

The infamous Chalk Hill was a welcome respite from the flats and rollers. I relaxed, geared down and concentrated on a steady uphill pace.  Several people passed me on the climb, BUT surprisingly I also passed a few people on the uphill.  At the crest as many people were gasping for air, I shifted into my big chainring and let fly.

After Chalk, it was downhill for several miles.  Fortunately I really hammered the downhill and I made up some serious time - catching most of the people who passed me on the climb.  Unfortunately the road was rough. I chose to stay aero and the road took its toll.  It felt like I was absorbing most of the bumps with my lower back - more about that later.

Finally the road smoothed out and I had a very nice hammer for the last few miles.  Although it is a little sadistic, it felt great to be side-by-side with some full-IM'ers as we reached the T-intersection.  At the intersection the 1/2 IM'ers go left to the transition area, and the full IM'ers go right for another loop of the bike course.  It felt great to know that the people beside me had another 6+ hours to go and I only had about 2...

T2

No big deal.  I followed the volunteers directions to my bike rack - I could not remember what landmark I had chosen to remember my spot when I had left my run stuff behind 5 hours ago.  I yelled at some guy to get off of my towel, (he was sitting on down on my towel to change his shoes, so I could not get to my stuff until he moved), stuffed some Gu into my singlet and started running.  Based on my overall time, I only had to run a 1:43 to break 5 hours.  I knew that I could hold 7:45's so I was pretty jazzed.

THE RUN:

I started slow and sipped at a water bottle of Cytomax that I had brought with me.  I hit mile 1 at 7:30.  Things were looking good - even going slow I had a great first mile.

Then things went to hell!!!

The muscles in my lower back (right side) decided that it was time to pay me back (pun intended) for the hammering they had suffered on the descent from Chalk Hill.  The muscles siezed up and were very, very painful. Running on flat ground was painful, the downhill sections were bearable and anything uphill was intolerable.  I asked for Ibuprofen at two aid stations, but they had none.  I stopped and stretched, but I could not loosen up my back.  I gave up on the chance of breaking 5 hours.  I kept trudging on.

I saw a teammate leaving the vineyard loop as I entered.  He had started 14 minutes prior to me.  When I got back to that spot I noted that I was actually ahead of him by two minutes.  The relevance of this information will be revealed later.

At another aid station a volunteer offered to run to her car and get me some ibuprofen.  I chose to wait because my back was really hurting, even standing to wait for my drugs was uncomfortable.  I inhaled 800mg of Vitamin I and hit the road.

I saw my buddy again as he was climbing the largest hill on the run course. A few long miles ago I had been 2 minutes up on him.  When I got back to the hill and started climbing it, I realized that I was now 14 minutes down.  The walking, stopping and extra energy that it had taken to run while my back was spasming had taken their toll on my run split.  Around mile six or seven the ibuprofen started to work, and I was finally able to pick up my pace.  Soon after I could run at a reasonable pace I committed a tactical error.

My original race plans called for a steady run with an HR of 165, but no greater than 170.  In an effort to make up some of the time that I had lost due to my back I pushed my run pace so that I was bordering on the edge of my AT.  On a few of the rises I pushed into anaerobic range.  The Vineman course is challenging and it did get warm.  The sun and rolling hills got to me.  At mile 12 I had to walk to get my HR under control.

I started running again and pushed it to the finish line crossing in the aforementioned 5:17:38 (by my watch).

LESSONS LEARNED

1.  Carry ibuprofen on the bike and the run 2.  Do not vary from my original race plan (if possible) 3.  I really do not like people who have someone pace them on the run.... 4.  I will wear socks on the run in Canada - my right instep has no skin at this time.

Cheers all - next stop IMC!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[chmergess4ever]

The Chmerkovskiy’s (Part 11)

Without further ado, here it is!! hoping to have the next part posted by tomorrow or Thursday. Depending on what I come up with for the next chapter. If you would like to see anything, please let me know! Like/Reblog!!

“Hi Baby.” He whispered in her ear as he took the seat beside her.

Everyone had dwindled out of the dinner one by one and now Sharna was sitting in the corner looking down at her phone, reading all the congratulation posts from their friends as well as the tweets from all their fans. She put her hand on his leg and looked at him, “Hi, Love” She tilted her head up so he would kiss her. She held up her hand so he would see it.

“We’re engaged!!”

He pressed a kiss to her shoulder, “You like it?”

“Do I like it?!?!?” She looked at him, I love it. It’s just so sparkly.”

“It’s all the things.”

“Yes it is.” She went in to kiss him again but Peta interrupted them.

“Sorry, Guys.” She interjected.

Val turned his head to her, “Peta, you kill me sometimes, you really do.”

“Oh please, you’ll have plenty of that tonight. We need to get a picture of you two.”

Sharna laughed and pulled Val’s hand with her as she got up and walked in front of the brick wall where Peta had led them to. She put her hand on his chest as they looked at the camera. He looked down at her admiring her, as Peta and Maks snapped the next picture.

“You know I love you, right?”

Sharna looked up and scrunched her nose, “I think I have some idea.”

Later that night, Val sat in the bed on his phone as she got changed in the bathroom. She walked around the bed to get in on her side as she looked at her ring again, “I don’t want to take it off.”

“You get to wear it forever, babe.”

She climbed into bed and rested her head in his shoulder looking at what he was doing on his phone. He had made an instagram post of his own. It was a collection of photos beginning with one that someone captured when they kissed for the first time at Maks and Peta’s wedding, and ending with him down on one knee. He read the caption out-loud as he typed it,

“Fell in love with this one faster than I knew was possible. 2 years later, I got down on one knee and asked her the question I wanted to ask her since we met. Will you Marry Me? And guess what? She said YES. Love you to the moon and back @sharnaburgess and now you’re mine forever.” He added some emojis and then hit post.

“I want to make one! Pass me my phone.” Sharna opened instagram and selected her favorite photo of the night. The photo they had took at the restaurant with him looking down at her. She captioned it, “I said Yes to the man of my dreams tonight. @iamvalc  you make me the happiest woman alive and I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you. I’ll love you forever Mr. Chmerkovskiy.”

The two of them watched as comments poured in from their family, friends, and fans on each of their posts. They read them aloud to each other alternating:

“@alanbersten: thank god you two finally figured out what we’ve known for a century.”

“@petamurgatroyd: my brother and sister in lawwww.”

“@lauriehernandez: oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god. Called it!! Love you guys. Congrats.”

“@hinchtown: you better take care of her!! She is all the things and this is Smoney.”

“@antoniobrown: Amazing brotha. Congrats to you and the gorgeous girl.”

“@emmaslaterdance: My heart can’t handle this! Love you both”

“@rumerwillis: this is amazing. Congrats.”

“@maksimc: welcome to the family, Sharna.”

They fell asleep reading comments and woke up the next morning cuddled with each other as the light streamed in the window. Val chuckled and said sarcastically, “Wow, quite the engagement night.” 

She laughed as she grabbed the nearest pillow and put it over her face shielding from the light, “How in the world did we fall asleep?”

“Who knows. But I do know what I want now.” He rolled over pushing the pillow off of her and replacing it with his lips on hers.

“This is going to wish the day away.” She murmured as she kissed him.

“And?”

“I don’t know.”

“Good.”

A little while after Val laid in bed staring up at the ceiling and Sharna had her arm draped over him and was resting her head on his chest. It was obvious that he was thinking and that his mind was wandering.

“I want to get married.” He said into the open.

“We are getting married. Remember? You proposed last night.” She laughed, patting him on the chest.

“No, I mean, like- get married now. I don’t want to wait.”

She tilted her head to look at him, “What?”

“Let’s get married today.”

“Today?”

“I mean it, let’s throw on a suit and a dress and go get married.”

“What about our family and friends?”

“Pictures. Videos. I just want you to be my wife, Shar.”

After thinking about it for a minute she grinned, “Ok.”

“Ok?”

“Yea, let’s do it. Let’s go get married.”

About 2 hours later, Val was in their room tying is bowtie in the mirror. He had worn a white shirt with a black suit and black bowtie. He moved to the dresser to spray his cologne when he heard her behind him, “Val.”

He turned around and saw her standing there in a short white dress. It was slim, but frilled out down at her waist and ended about halfway down her thigh. It was made up of different lace patterns. “You look-” The words left him, all he could do was look at her.

“Stopp.” She smiled as she moved to her closet to get shoes. “This is crazy, you know that right?”

“I know that by tonight, you’ll be my wife. And that’s not crazy to me.” He walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, pressing a kiss into her neck. “Let’s go get married.” He whispered lightly.

Sharna nodded as she looked down at herself one more time and followed him out of their bedroom.

After locking up the car they walked down their front path to Val’s car, but he stopped halfway. She watched him as he bent down and pulled a few flowers from their hydrangea bush, “Flowers for my bride.”

They drove to the courthouse, got out took a selfie in front of the building and then walked in together. At the front desk, they requested their necessary forms to fill out while they were waiting for the judge. “Ahh. More love birds today. How long have you two been engaged?” The receptionist tried to make conversation as she typed in the computer.

Sharna chuckled, “A little bit less than a day.”

The woman looked up at them and smiled, “You gotta love love.”

Val grabbed Sharna’s hand, “yes, you do.”

“Now, do you two have witnesses?”

“Witnesses?” Val asked.

“Yes, you both need to have someone stand with you and sign for your marriage.”

Sharna looked at Val, “Maks and Peta?”

“I don’t want to tell them now.”

The receptionist spoke to them again, “You two can go take a minute to figure it out if you’d like.”

“Thank you.” Sharna grabbed Val’s hand and they walked away from the desk, “Babe, is this the right thing to do?”

“What do you mean?”

They were cut off my a couple leaving a room, now married. There were people with them and people were cheering. Val and Sharna looked on at the happy couple. She looked up at him again, “I mean, that maybe this is out of impulse. We’re here alone and we’re getting married. Don’t we want our families with us?”

“You don’t want to-”

“Babe, it’s not that I don’t want to. I want everything with you.” She moved her hands to his waist, “I love you so much. But maybe this whole thing is trying to tell us something. I know you want to be married, I do too. But in my heart, we already are. We live together, I wear the diamond ring that you gave me. And baby, believe me I am so ready to take your name and call you my husband, but a few months is not going to change how I feel.”

“Ok.” He said in the same fashion she had answered him this morning.

“Ok?”

“Let’s plan a wedding.”

[mhsn033]

Sideman quits Radio 1Xtra over BBC’s use of racial slur

Image copyright Getty Pictures

BBC 1Xtra DJ Sideman has quit the sphere over the exercise of a racial slur in a BBC Records file.

Sideman, real name David Whitely, said in a press originate the “action and the defence of the action feels love a slap in the face of our community”.

The N-discover become worn in corpulent in a file about a racially aggravated assault in Bristol, broadcast by Points West and the BBC Records Channel.

The BBC has defended the exercise of the slur however accredited it precipitated offence.

Bigger than 18,600 complaints were made to the BBC over the broadcast. As properly as, broadcast regulator Ofcom said it acquired 384 complaints.

In a video on Instagram, captioned “I’m capable of not appreciate the opposite contrivance”, Sideman said: “I’ve thought long and not easy about what I’m about to claim and what it contrivance.

“And on this event I very finest don’t contemplate that I’m capable of appreciate the opposite contrivance.”

A spokesperson for BBC 1Xtra said: “Sideman is an extremely talented DJ. Clearly we’re dissatisfied that he has taken this selection.

“We fully desire him properly for the future. The door is continuously originate for future initiatives.”

‘Error of judgement’

Within the video posted on Saturday afternoon, the DJ said he believes alternate can occur, adding: “I perceive it be not something that goes to occur in a single day, that there’ll must be a entire lot of finding out and tearing down of bound building blocks of our society that took a in point of fact long time to manufacture up.

“So I’m OK with process. I’m OK with waiting, within motive, evidently things to alternate.

“However the BBC sanctioning the N-discover being said on national tv by a white particular person is something I’m capable of not rock with.

“That is an error of judgement the assign I’m capable of not very finest smile with you by the process and act love all the pieces is OK.”

Sideman said he become quitting his demonstrate with instantaneous carry out.

He said he made no apology for the option, adding: “I very finest don’t feel satisfied being aligned with the organisation.”

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Media captionDJ Sideman: “On this event I very finest don’t contemplate that I’m capable of appreciate the opposite contrivance”

His option become applauded on social media by others in the entertainment industry together with light 1Xtra DJ Dotty and Radio 1 and 1Xtra DJ MistaJam.

DJ Charlie Sloth said: “I love and appreciate you David! Smartly performed for standing up for what you focus on is factual! You are a King!! This world wants folks love you!”

In a tweet, BBC Radio London presenter Eddie Nestor described Sideman as a “king”, adding that he become writing a letter to publicly send to his BBC bosses on the anguish.

Likelihood become ‘not taken lightly’

The BBC file, which aired on Wednesday 29 July, described an assault on a 21-yr-worn NHS worker and musician identified as K or K-Dogg.

He had been hit by a car on 22 July whereas strolling to a bus quit from his office, Southmead Sanatorium in Bristol. He suffered serious accidents together with a broken leg, nostril and cheekbone.

Police said the incident is being handled as racially aggravated on account of the racist language worn by the occupants of the auto. A fourth man become arrested on suspicion of attempted abolish on Tuesday.

In response to Sideman’s resignation, a BBC spokesperson said the option to make exercise of the discover in the file “become not taken lightly and without substantial detailed thought: we were mindful that it could presumably presumably set aside off offence”.

“The BBC set aside out the context of the news file concerning the dazzling assault on an NHS worker in Bristol. As we now dangle said, the discover is extremely offensive and we utterly accept and perceive why folks were upset by its exercise.

“But, on this explicit context we felt the must present, and file, not very finest the accidents however, given their alleged crude nature, the phrases supposed to were worn – a location which, as we now dangle said, become supported by the family and the victim.”

In an earlier assertion per complaints concerning the exercise of the discover, the BBC said: “The victim’s family were anxious the incident must be considered and understood by the wider public.

“Or not it’s for this motive they asked us particularly to demonstrate the shots of this man’s accidents and were also sure that we may maybe presumably presumably also restful file the racist language, in corpulent, supposed to were spoken by the occupants of the auto.”

The BBC said the option become taken independently of the victim’s family’s needs, and become made “by a team of oldsters together with a bunch of senior editorial figures”.

In its fortnightly bulletin, the BBC said it had acquired 18,656 complaints concerning the incident by Sunday 2 August.

That makes it the 2nd-most complained about incident for the reason that BBC began the utilization of its fresh system in 2017. Most captivating Newsnight’s opening monologue about Dominic Cummings in May perhaps maybe presumably maybe acquired more, with 23,674.

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Bbc news Wagner, oscuro grupo militar ruso, 'luchando en Libia'

Bbc news

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Image copyright Reuters

Image caption The forces of renegade overall Khalifa Haftar were looking to steal the capital

A total bunch of mercenaries from Russia's sunless Wagner Neighborhood are running in Libya, a leaked UN document says.

They've been supporting renegade overall Khalifa Haftar's battle against the Tripoli-basically basically based govt, it says.

Since 2014, Libya has been spoil up between areas managed by the perimeters.

Wagner is believed to were captivating in conflicts in Ukraine, Syria and in other locations. The Russian govt denies any advise involvement in the militant neighborhood.

Bbc news What does the UN document reveal?

The document became compiled by self reliant monitors for the UN's Libya sanctions committee. It has now not been made public yet nonetheless it in actual fact has been viewed by recordsdata companies.

It is the first time the UN has confirmed reports of Wagner's involvement in Libya, inserting the alternative of operatives at between 800 and 1,000.

The 57-page document says Wagner operatives were in Libya since October 2018, "offering technical increase for the restore of military automobiles and taking section in fight operations".

Its people were acting as artillery and air observers, as well to "offering digital countermeasures expertise and deploying as sniper teams".

The personnel had been basically Russian, nonetheless there were additionally nationals of Belarus, Moldova, Serbia and Ukraine, the document said.

Early this yr, Russian President Vladimir Putin said any nationals in Libya did now not picture Moscow, nor had been they paid by the advise.

The UN document additionally says that Syrian mercenaries are fighting alongside Gen Haftar.

Bbc news What's the background to the Libyan conflict?

Libya has been wracked by war since the 2011 insurrection which ousted long-time strongman Muammar Gaddafi.

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Media captionWhat's on the assist of the war for Libya?

There might per chance be an internationally recognised Govt of Nationwide Accord basically basically based in the capital, Tripoli. It is supported by Qatar and Turkey. Professional-Turkish Syrians were fighting for the GNA, which basically controls areas in the nation's north-west.

Ranged against it is far the Libyan Nationwide Army (LNA), real to Gen Haftar, which is basically basically based in eastern Libya nonetheless controls many other areas. It is backed by Egypt, Russia and the UAE.

Gen Haftar launched an offensive against the capital in April 2019 nonetheless has been unable to steal it.

A truce brokered by Turkey and Russia in January has been repeatedly violated.

Bbc news What's essential about Wagner?

It became reported to were founded by Dmitry Utkin, believed to be a inclined member of a obvious forces brigade of Russian military intelligence, the GRU. Media beget reported Dmitry Utkin's call impress became Wagner, given to him as a result of his admiration of the Nazi regime, which appropriated the composer's work to increase its vision of Germany.

Wagner made its presence felt first inRussia's military takeover of Ukraine's Crimea peninsula in March 2014and inthe skilled-Russian insurgency which erupted in Ukraine's Donetsk and Luhansk regionsthe next month.

How the neighborhood is high-tail and funded is commence to speculation. Some media sources counsel the GRU secretly oversees it.

Investigations by Western journalists beget linked the rich Russian businessman nicknamed "Putin's chef" - Yevgeny Prigozhin - to the neighborhood. Mr Prigozhin, segment of Mr Putin's elite circle, has denied it.

Analysts reveal that because the Russian govt does now not formally recognise the mercenaries' existence, it can remark or play down any Russian casualties whereas inserting forward a military presence.

Wagner has been reported as running in a alternative of countries hit by conflict.

A BBC Russian investigation in 2018highlighted the deaths of Russian mercenaries fighting in Syria. As many as 2,500 people had been serving there, with officers reportedly earning as a lot as 300,000 roubles (£3,800; $5,300) a month.

Wagner activities beget additionally been reported in Madagascar and the Central African Republic (CAR).Three Russian journalists investigating Wagner's involvementhad been shot slow in the CAR in 2018.

Bbc news What's basically the newest in the Libyan conflict?

The UN mission in Libya on Wednesday urged the 2 warring facets to resume talks on a lasting truce. They've been suspended since February.

Image copyright AFP

Image caption The UN has urged Gen Haftar and the GNA to resume talks

Gen Haftar, whose forces beget had setbacks in contemporary weeks, on Wednesday known as for a unilateral ceasefire for the month of Ramadan, nonetheless the GNA rejected it, announcing it essential worldwide safeguards.

The battle for the capital has left tons of slow, with more than 200,000 folk displaced.

A GNA minister has additionally accused Gen Haftar's forces, and Wagner namely, of finishing up a chemical attack in the Salah al-Din home south of Tripoli.

Interior minister Fathi Bashaga said GNA forces had been "uncovered to nerve fuel, paralysed after which sniped". There has been no self reliant affirmation.

There beget additionally been reports of a rift between Wagner and Gen Haftar over unpaid fees.

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[faithfulnews]

Wayne Grudem explains what the Bible says about spending, saving and charity

Bible study that hits the spot

A practical lecture on money – spending, saving, charitable giving – from famous pastor Wayne Grudem.

I like the way that Wayne Grudem navigates the Bible finding the passages that tell you who God is, so that you can make better decisions by analyzing alternatives and choosing the one that gives your Boss a maximum return on investment. He’s very practical.

The MP3 file is here.

The PDF outline is here.

Spending:

Christianity does not teach asceticism (= don’t enjoy anything in this world), Paul condemns it in 1 Timothy 4:1-5

When you buy nice things, even if it is a little more expensive, it’s an opportunity to be thankful for nice things that God has provided

Even being rich is OK, but don’t let it make you haughty and arrogant, and don’t set your hopes on your money (see 1 Tim 6:17)

It is important for you to earn money, and you are supposed to use it to support yourself and be independent

It is possible to overspend and live recklessly (Luke 15:13) and it’s also possible to overspend and live too luxuriously

Increasing your income through career progression is wise, because it allows you to give away more and save more

God gives us freedom to decide how much we spend, how much we give away, and how much we save

every choice a Christian makes with money will give him or her more or less reward in his or her afterlife

Do not spend more than you have – you should make every effort to get out of debt as quickly as possible

Saving:

Saving money is wise so you can help yourself and others, and have money in your old age when you will not be working

If you do not save your own money, you end up being dependent on others (e.g. – family or taxpayers)

Not saving money for the future is a way of “putting God to the test” (Matt 4:7)

You are to “be dependent on no one”, to the extent that you can (1 Thes 4:12)

We don’t know the future, that’s why we should prepare for an emergency, and buy insurance to guard (James 4:13-17)

It’s right for us to learn how to save to be able to buy bigger assets, like a car or a college education

Saving and investing in stocks and bonds lets people in business start and grow companies, creating jobs and new products

Don’t over-save, trusting too much in money more than you trust in God (Ps 62.10; Matt 6:19,24; Luke 12:15-21)

Giving:

it is required for the people of God to give something out of what they earn, but no percentage is specified (Deut 26:12-13)

you do not give money to become right with God, you can’t earn your salvation

a Christian gives to show God that you trust him to take care of you, and to experience trusting him through your giving

the quality of your resurrection life with God is affected by giving you do for the Kingdom (Phil 4, Matt 6:19-21; 1 Tim 6:18-19)

when you get involved in the lives of others and give to them, you have the joy of experiencing caring for others (Acts 20:35)

it’s possible to give too little, but it’s also possible to give too much – be careful about pride creeping in as well

The first part of this lecture made me think of my treat for the week, which is to get a double chicken burrito bowl after my weight lifting. It is very easy to say grace when you are hovering over a double chicken burrito bowl. It is good to have nice things especially when it makes you thankful for what you have.

I was so happy listening to this talk because he was condemning bad stewardship, which I see in a lot of young people these days. I was happy until he got to the part about trusting in your savings for your security, and then I thought – that’s what I do wrong! I save a lot but it’s not just for emergencies and to share with others, like he was saying – I want a sense of security. This was more of a temptation in my 20s than it is now in my 30s, though.

Charity should hurt

I can remember being in my first full-time job as a newly hired junior programmer when the 2001 recession struck. I would cry while signing checks to support William Lane Craig’s Reasonable Faith ministry, because I was so scared. I had no family or friends where I lived to help me if anything went wrong, and that’s been the story of my working life. If anything goes wrong, there is no backup. But it’s that experience of crying when I gave that allows me to say today “that’s when I became the man I am, that’s what a man does when he is a follower of Jesus”. If you are not doing the actions of charity, then you will not having the experience of trusting God and letting him lead you. There is more to the Christian life than just saying the right things – you have to do the right things.

Don’t follow your heart

If you’re scared about giving when you are young, then do what I did in my 20s: work 70-hour weeks, get promoted often, and save everything you earn. I volunteered every Saturday for 9 months in order to get my first white-collar part-time job when I was still in high-school. The faster you increase your savings, the easier it’s going to be to take a genuine interest in caring for the people around you. Read Phil 1 (fellowship), Phil 2 (concern for others), and Phil 4 (charity). Turn off your emotions and desires when it comes to choosing what to study and what work to do, and put Philippians into practice. Your freedom to give is very much tied to the quality of your decisions of what to study, where to work, how much you spend on entertainment, and so on. That’s why you need to turn off your feelings and desires and do what works, even it it’s not fun, and even if it involves responsibilities, expectations and obligations.

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[hananeouddoud]

How to Not Get Blamed for A Car Accident That Isn’t Your Fault

A sound no one needs to listen to whereas chickening out of a car parking zone — it’s specifically what met my ears as associate SUV met the rear traveler facet of my automobile. although I’d barely been moving, the impact’s volume and force meant this was far more than a fender bender.

Unhinged however unhurt, I got resolute notice a really upset and extremely contrite fellow driver.

“It was all my fault,” she said. “I was during a hurry and didn’t see you.” She was presumably texting and distracted. Plus, considering the crumpled accordion once called my fender, she was positively going approach too quick for a parking zone.

Anyone witnessing the accident or hearing the drivers’ discussion in its immediate aftermath may have passed simple judgment: she caused it.

Unfortunately, there have been no witnesses and no security camera footage. And state law indicated that drivers effort parking zone areas should yield to oncoming traffic

I had and everyone was clear, that means the SUV either cut a corner or lined a fantastic quantity of ground in exactly many seconds.

Still, the officer remarked on the extent of my car’s harm (insurance later deemed it totaled). Since the collision compact the facet of my automobile, it pointed to the opposite driver dashing too. He listened understandingly as I rumored she had already admitted fault. effort the scene, I used to be happy that fairness would win the day.

Two weeks later, I got the accident report that in all probability took thirty seconds to kind. it's the theory, to place it kindly. within the report, I'm Driver/Vehicle a pair of.

It stated:

Driver one declared she was traveling west through the parking zone. Vehicle a pair of began to back out of a car parking zone. As Vehicle a pair of was chickening out of the car parking zone, Driver 1’s vehicle collided with Vehicle a pair of. Driver a pair of declared he was backing his vehicle out of a car parking zone within the parking zone space. As he was doing, therefore, Vehicle one collided together with his vehicle. Vehicle one suffered a moderate quantity of harm to its front bumper, primarily close to its passenger’s facet. Vehicle a pair of suffered a moderate quantity of harm to its rear facet panel on its passenger’s facet.

I have determined Driver a pair of [me!] to be guilty of this crash for not observant Vehicle one and not safely backing up.

Just like that – with an absence of witnesses and a lazy, incomplete accident report written by a politician World Health Organization doesn’t have a preference for thorough work – I used to be screwed.

Some lessons are learned about the arduous approach. Here’s what you'll be able to do once disputing fault during an automobile accident case:

Roll camera clandestinely

When one thing surprising sort of an automobile accident happens, someone’s 1st reaction is typically associated with an honest one. In my case, the alternative driver’s initial admittance of fault would are game-changing proof.

But, you ask, don’t individuals behave otherwise after they apprehend they’re being taped? affirmative, therefore don’t tell them.

Before effort, your vehicle, place your smartphone’s camera on and either hold it inconspicuously in your hand or stick it in your pocket. You’ll have many times to amass visual proof, however solely many seconds to undertake and acquire what amounts to a confession from a momentarily surprised and momentarily forthright fellow automobilist. this sort of proof is what's going to assist you to win once disputing fault during an automobile accident case.

Corral any witnesses ASAP

Implore them to attend and speak with the police. once the associate accident happens on a busy road or road, this may be easier aforesaid than done. If associate watcher insists upon effort before the police arrive, snap a pic of his image ID (or, if he refuses, his license plate) and provides it to the police for follow-up.

If the accident happened during a parking zone, prompting the police to raise whether or not closed caption police work video is out there. sadly, as in my case, typically there are not any witnesses or camera footage.

Make sure the police comprehend what the harm to every vehicle suggests that

Don’t expect a typical beat cop to be a fictional character. no one goes to the academy to jot down accident reports for a living. Don’t assume the officer cares nearly the maximum amount concerning what happened as you are doing.

The illusion of experience is another issue. law enforcement officials see their share of wrecks and become self-proclaimed virtuosos at determinant fault simply by glancing at the vehicles and hearing transient statements from drivers. This frustrating mixture of conceitedness and the mental object will result in police reports that are incomplete at the best, incompetent at the worst.

In my case, it had been clear that the opposite driver’s automobile had affected American state, instead of the other way around, since you can’t specifically drive the facet of your automobile into one thing unless you’re doing donuts during a demolition hat.

Still, the law places the load on a vehicle chickening out of a car parking zone to yield. Here, what the officer didn’t perceive was however arduous the SUV hit my automobile, which might have helped him understand however insanely quick it should are traveling for a parking zone. I hadn’t yielded as a result of I couldn’t have seen it coming back.

The police report states that every automobile suffered “moderate” harm that is untrue. The SUV had a busted light source and a banged-up bumper. My fender was therefore fragmentized that insurance later deemed it destroyed.

The point: check that the cop not solely sees the harm however understands what it suggests that so the report reflects truth instead of fiction.

Stay there till the cop leaves

Despite being destroyed, my automobile was still (barely) drivable, and therefore the officer took my statement 1st. He then told the American state to go away with the implication that he believed my account of the opposite driver’s negligence.

The police report, of course, aforesaid otherwise. So, either the officer song to my face or, a lot of possibilities, the opposite driver placed on a crafty and convincing show once I left.

Don’t take something with no consideration once disputing fault during an automobile accident case. stay till the police depart, though they are saying you'll be able to go.

Though nothing is foolproof, the following tips will provide you with the most effective probability of avoiding blame once an automobile accident isn’t your fault. Safe driving, folks.