#and i still need to grocery shop and get gas and put my lunches together for work this weekend

[master-gatherer]

I am so fucking tired and still need to do the shopping

[myrandomfandomramblings]

Making memories - a Chenford fanfic

For Chenfordficweek2021 - as described by @therookiebook

Instead of a fic a day for chenford fic week I decided to just write one incorporating as many prompts as possible. This is because when I read them a few just connected in my head and then I had way to much fun seeing how many I could kinda incorporate. Some of the quotes aren’t word for word but the lines are inspired by the original prompt.

*Note: my beach fic was also inspired by this prompt list but I got antsy and posted it early so if you haven’t read it, you can check it out.

Main prompt: Road Trip

Other prompts:

July 11th- 

"Is that you...singing? Since when can you sing?" 

"I wish we could stay like this forever." 

Fight 

"You're comfier than a pillow." 

July 12th- 

With Child(ren)- theirs or not

"I fucked up."

"Where have you been?" 

July 13th- 

"You're crushing me." "I can't breathe with you on me." 

"Stay here." 

"What do you want?" 

July 14th- 

"I'm calling the police." "We are the police." 

"Don't move." 

"That a new dress?" 

Sweet tooth

July 15th- 

Locked out (Car/house/station) 

"Stop hogging all the blankets." 

"Why are you bleeding?" 

"Make me." 

July 16th- 

Shopping together or for the other 

Getting lost

"Is that my shirt?" 

Under the stars

July 17th- 

Competition 

Tears 

"Why are you so late?" 

When Lucy arrives in role call and hears she’s partnered with Tim for the day, she’s excited. When she hears they are to wear civvies and take Tim’s truck to surveil a suspect, she’s confused. And when said suspect drives further and further out of LA and they are instructed to keep on his tail, she’s annoyed. If she didn’t know better she’d think some writer designed the assignment purely because it was convenient for their story. Nevertheless, this is her life: crashing at a random hotel nearly nine hours from LA, after finally being relieved of surveillance detail, by the local sheriffs department, at 2:30am. The plus side is she’s being paid overtime, not only for the late night but also for the commute back to the city tomorrow. The down side is despite being exhausted she twists and turns all night unable to get comfortable in the strange environment. So when Tim knocks on the adjoining door between their rooms at 10am she’s already been up for a few hours. She has written a journal entry in her notes, preordered drinks for them to pick up at Starbucks and spent more time than she’d like to admit on google maps and various travel sites researching their trip home. She has also found time to plunder the continental breakfast and is currently demolishing a strawberry danish and a cinnamon bun. This earns criticism from Tim, whose plate carries sausage, eggs and an orange.

By 11am they’re on the open road again, coffees in the console between them. The small talk they had been making since they left the hotel had slowly died out so now they sit in comfortable silence. That is until Lucy reaches over to turn on the radio. 

“You know how I feel about car radios Chen,” Tim warns in his best TO voice. 

“Even off shift?” Lucy scoffs, and continues to press the on button and turn the volume dial up. Nevertheless, nothing happens.

“Looks like it doesn’t work anyway,” Tim states as he continues to hold the volume down button on the steering wheel, unbeknownst to Lucy.

“Fine then I’ll be the radio.” “You like Lady Marmalade, right?” She’s referencing Tim’s LA CLEAR security answer but she doesn’t wait for his reaction or reply before beginning to belt out the opening lyrics.

As she sings his initially surprised expression, morphs to shock and then awe. 

“Since when can you sing?” he asks when she finishes.

She just shrugs, looking down at her hands as they begin to fiddle in her lap.  

“Now I wish the radio really was broken,” Tim states as he turns it on and music starts playing.

Lucy shoots him a quick death glare before turning her attention back out the window.

---

By noon Lucy’s singing quietly along to the music (causing Tim to reevaluate his opinion on car radios) when she suddenly sneezes then freezes as her eyes go wide.

“Ah, can you stop at the next place with a bathroom?” she asks bashfully.

“We haven’t even been driving that long can you hold it?”

“Find me a bathroom or your truck will be covered in blood,” Lucy says, her tone conveying urgency.

“What? Why are you bleeding?” Tim asks, confused.

“If you don’t know why I, a woman, would be bleeding and thus need a bathroom then the public school system failed you.”

 “Oh, ah, right, sorry,” Tim stutters, “I think there’s a small town at the next exit.”

“Thank-you,” Lucy replies clearly relieved.

“Do we need to find a drug store or do you have what you need?’

“Ya, if you could find a drug store.” She’s fiddling again, unable to shake the feeling of embarrassment even though she knows, rationally, she has nothing to be embarrassed about.

Several minutes later Tim’s pulling into the drug store parking lot and Lucy’s unbuckling her seat belt to run in. But as soon as she stands up Tim’s voice stops her.

“Wait Luce.” There’s a tenderness to his voice especially when he uses the new nickname that stops her more than the instruction itself. “I think we’re too late.” 

Lucy looks down at the seat she just vacated to see its center now decorated with a dark red stain. A matching stain is present on the butt of the long yellow dress she’s wearing. 

“Of course,” she spits as she tries to fight back tears that are already running down her cheeks.

“That a new dress?” Tim questions awkwardly, caught off guard by the sudden display of emotion.

Lucy lets out a choked laugh as Tim flounders to find something helpful to say.

“I ruined your truck, I ruined my dress and now I have to walk around the drug store with a giant stain on my ass,” Lucy sniffs.

“Hey Lucy, everything’s going to be okay.” He reaches across the console to put a hand on her shoulder. “Stay here. I’ll go in and get what you need.”

She stares at him surprised and unsure. The idea of him buying her tampons and pads and, she realizes, new underwear seems uncomfortably intimate.

“So, ah, what do you want?”  

Because she has no desire to walk around the store with a giant blood stain on her butt she gives him her order, eyes down, face turning redder by the second.

He just nods and returns a few minutes later with three grocery bags and immediately hands them to her.

Inside she finds much more than she requested. The first bag contains two chocolate bars, two bags of candy, and two bottles of water. The second holds 6 different packages of assorted pads and tampons.

“How much blood do you think someone loses on their period,” Lucy teases.

Tim gives a small shrug. “I didn’t know which kind you wanted.” 

Inside the third bag Lucy finds a bottle of Advil, a package of wet-wipes, a spray bottle of stain remover, a new package of underwear (simple white cotton), a pair of black tights and a box of black garbage bags. 

“What are these for?” she asks holding up the garbage bags.

“They didn’t have any shirts so I thought we could make some head and arm holes and-“ he stops talking when he sees Lucy’s unimpressed expression. “I know it’s not ideal.” 

“Good thing I already have that figured out,” she says holding up a plaid button up. 

“Is that my shirt?” He had taken it off as soon as he got in the car, since like usual he had a henley underneath, and thrown it into the back. Lucy must of retrieved it while he was in the store. 

“Please,” she says fixing him with those puppy dog eyes. “I promise I won’t get blood on it. Well, I’ll do my best. Please don’t make me wear a garbage bag.” 

He laughs. “I forgot I had that. I guess I didn’t need these.” He takes the garbage bags from her and is about to throw them in the back when Lucy speaks up.

“Actually I’ll take one,” she says ripping the cardboard and freeing a single bag. She proceeds to rip a hole in the top of the garbage bag and pulls it over her legs like a skirt. Then she puts Tim’s plaid shirt on overtop. Tim is watching her with raised eyebrows.

“What? It’s just temporary. I promised I wouldn’t get blood on your shirt.” She puts everything she needs in her bag and goes into the bathroom to clean herself up. When she returns Tim is just finishing cleaning the blood off the passenger seat. 

“I would have done that.”

 “It was no trouble.” “Here spray some of this on your dress before the stain sets,” Tim offers as he hands her the stain remover.

Lucy does then drapes her dress over the backseat.

“Ready to go,” Tim asks.

 Lucy nods and by 1pm they’re back on the road.

 ---

By 2pm they’re both hungry and decide to stop for lunch. The place they choose is a fast food joint connected to a gas station. It’s busy. Probably because it’s the only place to eat for miles around. While they wait in line to order, Lucy goes to use the bathroom, only to find another line just as long. She decides to try the gas station bathroom instead, telling Tim that she’ll be right back but if he gets to the front first he knows her order. He goes to argue but she’s already gone, which is probably a good thing since he has no rebuttal, considering it’s the truth. 

A few minutes later Tim has their food: a veggie burger with extra pickles and fries for her and a burger and fries for him, but she still isn’t back. He wanders over to the gas station to find her standing in line at the register. 

“Put the candy back Chen.”

“Make me,” she says shaking the bags as she holds them by her shoulders.

Tim reaches for them but Lucy moves to evade his grasp. “Too slow,” she teases.

“You’ve already had two pastries, one bag of candy, a chocolate bar and a frappa-cappa-crapacciuno or whatever.”

“It was a chai tea latte and you know it.”  

“It was more sugar than anything and we still have more candy in the car. You’re going to give yourself diabetes.” 

She shrugs. “It’s not a road trip without excessive amounts of junk food.” 

“It’s not a road trip. It’s a commute home.” 

“It’s whatever we make it,” she says as she taps her card to pay for the candy. 

They find a state park a few minutes up the road and unpack their lunch at one of the picnic tables. They talk as they eat, familiar banter flying across the table. As they near the end of their food Lucy is animatedly telling a story about a recent arrest. She has a french fry in one hand and as she gestures, a little too aggressively, a glob of ketchup flies off the end of the fry and right into Tim’s face. 

She sinks down a little in her seat and covers her mouth to try to suppress a laugh.

“Did you just throw ketchup at me Chen?” he glares as he slowly removes the offending condiment.

“Not on purpose,” she giggles.

“If you start a fight you better be prepared to finish it,” he says as he rips open a package of mustard and squirts it at her.

Although it has poor projectile power a small amount lands in Lucy’s hair. She looks back at him mouth wide. “That was on purpose. That’s assault. I’m calling the police.”

“We are the police,” Tim deadpans as he rips the top off another mustard package.

“You wouldn’t” Lucy warns as she opens a mayo.

Then words are abandoned as condiments fly. They go through 5 ketchup, 3 mustard, 2 mayo, 1 bbq sauce, 1 ranch dressing, 1 aioli and 1 pepper packet before they both surrender. In fact the only packets left untouched are the hot sauce and salt. Both their faces are covered in assorted condiments. Most that had been scooped off the picnic table and smeared directly onto their target when it became clear the packets could barely project their contents a foot. The only one that was truly an effective weapon was the pepper which successfully gave Tim a sneezing fit. 

As they sit back down to finish the last bit of their lunch Lucy picks up a fry and runs it along Tim’s cheek then throws it in her mouth. 

“Not bad,” she says as Tim makes a face of disgust.

When the last fries are gone they throw out their garbage, wipe down the picnic table, then turn their attention to themselves.

“It’s a good thing I bought these wipes,” Tim says as he passes one to Lucy. 

She laughs as she takes it and begins to wash her face. 

“Did I get it all?” she asks when she thinks she’s done. “Because you didn’t,” she adds as she reaches up to wipe the side of his mouth.

He’s startled at first then his expression morphs into something she can’t quite read but something that makes her linger just a little longer than strictly necessary. Then she steps away and climbs into the drivers seat and by 3pm they’re back on their way.

---  

By 4pm Lucy’s in the middle of a seemingly endless monologue about the bachelor franchise when she looks over to realize that Tim is fast asleep. She would be insulted but instead she sees it as an opportunity. She starts to take every turn she can. Whenever she comes to an intersection she turns on to the smallest street. By the time Tim wakes up, about half an hour later (of course he would have is body trained to nap the ideal more than 20, less than 40 minutes), they are in the middle of nowhere. She waits until he’s fully awake then slams on the brakes.

“I’ve been shot. Where are we, Tim?” she demands in her best Tim Bradford voice. He looks out all the windows to see nothing but ranches then back at her, confusion clear on his face.

“Did you get us lost just so you could prove a point?” His tone an odd combination of annoyance and amusement.

“We’re not lost I’m taking the scenic route.” 

 “I’m pretty sure the scenic route is supposed to run along the ocean not through the desert in the middle of no where.” 

“We’re not in the middle of no where we are North of Martinus Corner at the intersection of Cross Rd and and Lockwood Jolon Rd,” she brags. 

“Great you know where we are. Do you know how to get us back onto the main road?”

“It’s not all about the destination, you know, It’s about the journey,” Lucy offers. “When’s the last time you did something just for the fun of it.”

“We go for a hike or a walk along the beach with Kojo every weekend.”

“I know I’m fun to be around,” she teases, “but that’s an errand, Tim, the dog needs exercise.” 

“I see your point but what are we supposed to do in the middle of ranch land? You want to go cow tipping?”

“We won’t be in ranch land for long,” Lucy replies, but half an hour and at least twenty turns later they’re still surrounded by fields and livestock.

“Will you admit you’re lost now?” Tim asks.

Lucy sighs, “Fine, can you please google map how to get to Route 1”

“We were on 5.”

“5’s the freeway. 1’s the scenic route,” Lucy explains. “the one that runs along the ocean.”

Before Tim can bring up the app they’re emerging into a small city centre. As Lucy continues down the main street she excitedly points ahead. 

“Let’s go bowling,” she says indicating the bowling alley sign.

“I thought you wanted to go to the ocean.”

“We can still take the scenic route home, after we go bowling.”

Tim sighs.

“Come on let’s have some fun, make some memories,” Lucy encourages.

“You’re not going to take no for an answer.”

Lucy shakes her head and happily pulls into the bowling alley parking lot.

Several minutes later they have their bowling shoes on and their names entered in the computer on lane 4. Tim goes first and immediately gets a strike.

“You want to put money on this game Chen?” he asks cockily.

“Lucky shot,” Lucy replies. “I’m not betting money but if you win I’ll let you pick the route home but if I win you can’t complain when we take the scenic route.

“Deal,” he says shaking her hand.

Lucy goes next and gets two gutter balls in a row. “Why didn’t we get the bumpers?”

“The bumpers are for kids.”

On her third throw she throws the bowl with two-hands after swinging it between her legs.

“Speaking of for kids,” Tim teases.

“Don’t argue with results,” she counters as her ball connects with the pins.

They continue going back and forth, Tim using the classic one-handed bowling throw and Lucy trying a different technique each time. She tries sitting down and pushing it down the lane, pulling out the ball slide meant for toddlers, standing backwards and throwing the ball between her legs but eventually settles on the two-handed granny throw. 

By half-way through the game Tim’s score is double Lucy’s and he starts to get cocky. He throws with his eyes closed, on one-foot and after spinning in a circle 10 times. 

3 quarters through the game the black lights come on and they laugh at each others teeth glowing in the dark. The disco lights and music follow. Then Lucy who had been giggling and joking around all game suddenly becomes serious. 

“I have two more turns and I really want a strike,” she states. She has a couple spares on the board but strikes remain elusive. Tim on the other hand has three.

“Can I show you? he questions handing her a ball.

He initially tries to coach her through the throw but she isn’t catching on so he steps behind her, puts his hand over hers and leans into her back as he guides her through the motion. The ball knocks over all but one pin but Lucy almost misses it because she’s looking up at Tim. He lets go and steps back.

“You think you can do that on your own next turn?” he asks shaking the huskiness from his voice.

She nods. Tim bowls, then it’s the moment of truth as Lucy throws her ball imaging Tim’s arm along hers, guiding it. The bowl rolls straight down the alley where it connects with the pins and knocks them all down. STRIKE flashes on the computer screen as Lucy jumps for joy then right into Tim for a celebratory hug. He’s initially surprised but is able to catch her and himself before they fall over. He spins them around as she laughs and he’s suddenly really glad Lucy made him stop.

With that the game is over. Tim’s still ahead but the margin had narrowed. They return their bowling shoes and head out to the truck.

“Fine you win this time, we can go back to the interstate but I want a rematch. I’m thinking mini-golf or the arcade,” Lucy says as she pulls out of the parking lot. 

“Nah, go to the 1,” Tim says as he starts to read the directions off his phone.

Lucy looks at him quizzically but doesn’t push her luck. By 6pm they’re driving along the ocean.

---

By 7pm, although it’s not that late, it’s already dark. That combined with her lack of sleep the night before is making Lucy sleepy. When she yawns for the third time in less than 20 minutes Tim suggests they switch drivers. Lucy happily obliges pulling into the next rest stop. During the day it would have a beautiful view of the ocean but now all one can see is darkness. The only evidence of the ocean’s presence being the rhythmic, crashing of waves against the base of the cliff below.

They pull into the abandoned lot; Lucy takes her time backing into a spot, mostly just to annoy Tim and they both get out, reflexively closing their doors behind them. As they pass each other Tim holds his hand out for the keys. 

“I just left them in the ignition,” Lucy explains. Tim looks over to the truck then back to her a look of defeat on his face.

“Your doors lock automatically, don’t they?” Lucy asks rhetorically, “I fucked up.” 

They try the doors just in case but sure enough they’re locked. 

“Well it could be worse,” Tim offers much to Lucy’s surprise, “at least it’s not running.” “I’ll call Angela and see if I can convince her to grab the extra set of keys from my house and come meet us but its going to be a couple hours.” 

Lucy nods. “Thank-you and I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Tim shrugs, “we’re making memories remember.” Then without another word we walks away from her as he hits a button on his phone and puts it to his ear. The conversation doesn’t last long. Angela obliges but insists that Tim now owes her one. He thinks she still owes him a couple from everything he did as her man of honour but decides now isn’t the time to bring that up. When he hangs up he finds Lucy has lowered the tailgate of his truck, where she now sits. She’s shivering, arms wrapped around herself, but she’s smiling as she looks up at the sky. 

“You can see the stars here,” she explains hearing him approach, “away from the lights and smog of the city.” 

Tim climbs up into the bed of his truck and removes a stack of old moving blankets from the storage box he keeps in the back. 

“Angela’s on her way but in the meantime we should stay warm.” He wraps one around Lucy’s shoulders. Then lays the rest on the floor of the truck bed. 

“Good thing I left these in after helping Tamara move last weekend.” He shimmies his way in-between two layers then taps the spot beside him, inviting Lucy to join. She climbs in beside him eager for more warmth. With the sun gone the temperature had dropped fast. 

Lucy pulls up an app on her phone and hands it to Tim so he can identify constellations for them while her hands and arms stay hidden under the blankets. Then they lay down and look-up at the stars. Tim uses the app to find constellations, points them out to Lucy, then reads the story about them provided by the app. Meanwhile Lucy snuggles deeper and deeper into the blankets. Tim stops in the middle of the story he’s reading about the the swan constellation as the blankets are pulled off his torso. 

"Stop hogging all the blankets,” he complains pulling them back.

“Sorry, I’m freezing,” she confesses. 

He pauses for a second clearly debating something internally before opening his arm out to the side. “Then come closer,” he finally says. 

She hesitates for a second before slowly moving to snuggle against his side. The possibility of warmth far outweighing any awkwardness she’s feeling. She rests her head on his chest. She can feel his heart racing to match her own and can’t help but smile to herself.

“Better?” he asks once she’s finished squirming around trying to maximize her view of the stars and the amount of body heat she’s receiving from him.

”You're comfier than a pillow,” she confirms, nodding. 

Tim doesn’t respond just wraps his arm around her shoulders. He continues to point out constellations and read the stories in Lucy’s app. 

“None of the constellations actually look like their name sakes,” Lucy says after a while.   

“You have to use your imagination.” 

“I could use my imagination to name my own constellations.” 

He shrugs. “Go for it.” 

She finds a cluster of stars that vaguely resembles a duck. She points it out to Tim then makes up a story about a duck that joined the LAPD and saved the city from a gang of geese. When she’s finished she turns to Tim,. “Your turn.”

He gives her his best ‘not happening’ look but he’s met with those pleading brown eyes that hold more power over him than he’ll ever admit and caves almost instantly.

He points out an X made of stars. “That is where the space pirates buried their treasure.” Lucy looks up at him expectantly. “The end,” he finishes.

“That’s your whole story? One sentence.”

“I’m not as creative as you.”

“Then tell a real story,” she says, “here I’ll go first.”

She points to a jumble of stars. “That is Caligula’s toy chest,” she says then proceeds to describe in great detail all the filthy, horrid things she had seen the day he taught her the DEAR method.

“Why would you tell me that?” he asks when she is done.

“Now you share my pain.”

Tim laughs and points at four stars arranged in a rectangle. “That is the phone that was used too much at work.” He spends his entire story essentially mocking her for always being on her phone. Lucy would be annoyed or insulted but the amount of detail he remembers about the completely benign things she has done is kind of sweet and a little exhilarating.

She next finds a ’surf board’ and tells the story of a weekend getaway with some collage friends that ended with a black eye, a broken board and a lot of great memories. 

Tim follows suit finding a ‘football’ and telling the story of a particularly memorable championship game during his high school career. He’s half-way through his story when he interrupts himself. “You're crushing me,” he tells Lucy who is draped over his torso. “What are you even doing?” I can't breathe with you on me."

“I’m tucking in the blanket so our heat doesn’t escape,” she says as she pushes the edge of the blanket under Tim’s side along the length of his body. When she’s done she rolls off of him, cuddles back into his side then tucks the opposite blanket edge under herself. 

When Tim finishes his story they continue to go back and forth, learning more and more about each other each turn. Lucy tells stories from the time she spent travelling and working odd jobs, from her time as a psych major and her time in the academy. Tim talks about his family, his time in the army, and his early years on the force and with Isabel. 

He tells her about a colleague who despite being a great cop made the mistake of using his radio near an explosive and paid for it with his life. He is the reason Tim baby powder bombs every Rookie: so no other good officers will be lost because a critical piece of information was taught so dryly that it couldn’t possibly be recalled under pressure. 

She tells him about her ring as she twirls it around her finger. About how she found it in her grandma’s dress-up chest when she was six and it immediately became her favourite item. How every time she played dress-up the ring was part of the costume, whether she was a princess or a ninja, a cat or a witch, a clown or a police officer. How unlike her parents, who always thought she’d follow their career paths, her grandma always told her she could be anything she wanted. How when her grandma passed away she had found the ring again as she helped her parents pack up her things. How she had started wearing it to feel closer to her. How as she looked at the ring day after day she heard her grandma’s voice in her head:  “You can do anything you put your mind too,”  “the sky’s the limit,” “do what makes you happy.” How that made her realize she was not where she wanted to be and led to her decision to quit her Master’s program.  How her parents had chalked it up to grief and tried to use psychoanalysis to convince her to return. How that had pissed Lucy off and led to her applying to the LAPD. How she had continued to wear the ring as a reminder and motivator during her training. How much it had meant to her to have it returned. How now it not only symbolizes her grandma’s belief in her, but also Tim’s and her own. How it continues to give her strength.

As Lucy talks Tim rubs circles on her back as if connecting the stars that constitute Lucy’s ‘ring’ constellation. 

Just as she finishes she excitedly points up. “Look a shooting star!”

“Make a wish,” Tim advises.

“I wish we could stay like this forever.” She surprises herself by how quick and confident that comes out. She hadn’t even thought about it, but it is true. In this moment everything is perfect. She is no longer cold. She is warm and happy in her little burrito with Tim: wearing his shirt, listening to the ocean, surrounded by stars. 

Lucy half hears Tim name a constellation “the best boot I ever trained” and start to tell a Coles notes version of their story but she’s already falling asleep.

She wakes up some time later to Tim shifting beside her. 

“Don’t move,” she groans still half-asleep.“

“Ange is here Luce. It’s time to go home.” 

“Am home,” she mumbles before falling back asleep.

Tim manages to free himself from Lucy and the blankets. He shuffles out of the back of the truck and walks around it to meet Angela who is just getting out of her car.

“Where have you been,” Tim asks. 

“Driving.” 

“I mean, what took you so long?” 

“I thought you might be enjoying your alone time with Lucy more than you’d admit, so I didn’t rush.” 

He wanted to argue but he couldn’t. “Thank-you for coming.”

She shrugs. “Honestly, when your baby refuses to sleep anywhere but a moving car a 4 hour drive is not as inconvenient as it sounds.”

As if to prove her point the infant starts wailing from inside the vehicle.

Before Angela can move Tim’s opening her car door and removing his god child from the car seat. He holds the baby to his chest and starts rocking him. As the baby continues to scream and Tim continues to rock, sway and bounce, Lucy emerges from behind Tim’s truck seemingly woken by the crying.

“There’s my favourite little guy,” she coos as she approaches. “You’ve gotten so big. Next time I see you you’ll be taller than your Uncle Tim,” she continues as she rubs the baby’s back. Despite all the attention the baby continues to fuss.

“He’s hungry,” Angela explains. “Give him this,” she continues handing him a full bottle, “I pumped on the way here.”

“You pumped while driving?”

“It’s called multitasking.”

Tim takes the bottle and offers it to the baby who immediately begins suckling. While the baby drinks Lucy goes back to Tim’s truck and grabs some blankets. She gives one to Angela, drapes another over Tim and the little boy and wraps herself in the last. 

Over the next half an hour Tim and Lucy work together to feed, burp, and change the baby before putting him back in his carseat, all while his mother watches with a very amused expression. When he’s buckled in they say their goodbyes, thank Angela again, then head back to Tim’s truck, which is now unlocked.

By 10pm they are back on the road. They spend the rest of the drive cooing over baby Evers and talking about their own theoretical future kids. While conveniently avoiding any mention of theoretical future spouses or co-parents.

By midnight Lucy is just getting home. As she walks through the door she sees Jackson on the couch watching TV. 

“Why are you so late?” he asks turning towards her.

“Long story.” 

“Is that Tim’s shirt?” 

“Longer story.” 

“Aha,” Jackson says giving her a knowing look.

She just rolls her eyes and goes to get ready for bed. She falls asleep almost immediately and dreams of sweets and stars, babies and bowling and a life with Tim.

[losingitinjersey]

For as much as I was dreading this past week, it really went as well as possible. ��

My week included the following:  

A first time in-home daycare visit

An 18 month pediatrician appointment

A first time daycare drop-off

32 week OB appointment.  

Girlfriend hangout / pedicure / all the errands. 

So much driving and socializing! 

On Tuesday, erp and I went and spent 40 minutes at the in-house daycare getting to know the woman and see her space.  There were about four other kids there, all various ages, and after 10 minutes of erp being shy she actually started coming out of her bubble and playing with the kids! Maybe she’s not as shy as I thought!  So so encouraging to see my little covid babe interacting with others.  She actually seemed bummed to leave!  

Wednesday, erp and I drove the hour into Norfolk for her pediatrician appointment which went overall well!  For as vocal and communicative as erp is, she still hasn’t said any words yet so we’ll be starting speech therapy soon.  Not concerned at all and happy to get the assistance! 

Thursday was my OB appointment to which I had to find the childcare coverage for.  Tuesday’s initial daycare visit made going into this drop-off so much less anxiety riddled.  Sure, I still didn’t love leaving my child somewhere but I trusted she’d be fine.  And she was!  My appointment was a success too!  This new OB office (because I moved) has such a nicer team of professionals working there.  I was honestly expecting someone to say something about my weight since it’s exploded due to my eating like a jerk (even though I vowed this pregnancy not to. Wrong!) but all she said was that my “numbers looked good!”  AMAZING.  She even checked to see if I was dilated due to my request after convincing myself I was thanks to @shaketheduust :) (I am not dilated and am “as closed as closed can be!”)  

When my appointment was over I texted the daycare lady to let her know I’d be back in 15 minutes and she told me to take my time, run an errand or get some alone time.  I replied that I didn’t know how to do that.  So I did the only thing I could think of, went through the Starbucks drive-through and called my mom to give her a low-down of the appointments.  Half an hour later I was on my way to get my girl and she looked like she was having such a great time! Though, once she saw me she immediately ran up to me, asked to be picked up and was ready to go.  I received tons of pictures and videos throughout the two-hour stint giving me a play-by-play of her experience there.  So so grateful to have found such a great resource!  

At the OB office I was able to schedule my next 9 weeks of appointments (once every two weeks for the next four weeks then weekly after that) so I was able to book them on days that either Kevin has off or my mom will be here to watch erp.  Despite having childcare lined up I asked the daycare lady if we could find time for erp to start going to her one or two+ days a week to help her continue to socialize and integrate with others.  It feels strange to do this knowing I don’t need the childcare, but I need to remember that this isn’t about what I need, it’s about what’s best for erp.  And right now, having time outside the house and with others will be really good for her.  

Friday was blissfully spent at home, though I did spend 3 hours on video calls chatting/hanging with co-workers which is always a great time!  Love that my work day can include so much @zerocarb time.  

Saturday morning I was out the door by 7:45 a.m. to drive to Norfolk to hang out with friendbor! (even though we’re not neighbors anymore, that’s forever how she will be referred).  We got Starbucks breakfast before our 10 a.m. pedicure appointment and enjoyed our final 1:1 hangout before she and her family move to Norway next month!  It was so so good to spend time with her and catch up on all the things!  I then took advantage of the solo afternoon by running all the errands (returning Amazon products, going grocery shopping, getting gas, grabbing lunch from two different spots, running to the post office).  I was exhausted by the time I got home and spent the rest of the day trying to recover from all the activity.  

Phew. Such a busy week that was!  Looking forward to next week since it’s the last week before work is giving the company the next week off!  Woohoo!  Here’s to relaxing the rest of the day (or doing the things we need to do like put together baby August’s crib. We’ll see if that happens).  

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

Inspired partially by the twitter trend of The Face Vs. The Face Sitting On It and just in time for Valentine’s Day! 

Gender Neutral Reader Insert. 

Enjoy my masterlist!

Support me on KoFi!

__________________________

While sitting in the car, you watch out the window. Folks buzz around you--some folks looking content, strolling about their day. Others are flitting around, a bit of crease in their forehead. And you feel for them. You know those days where there’s just not enough hours in the day to get it all done. Or it’s when one thing sets off a spiral of all terrible things. Or when you just don’t wake up on the right side of the bed. You know that crease all too well because currently you were having a bad sleeping week. 

You were getting tired when you were supposed to but the second you put your head on the pillow your brain was hot wired--keeping you up with all the things you needed to do, hadn’t done, all the appointments you had kept pushing off. It was finding the littlest things to find that anxiety and keep you staring up at the ceiling. Calum noticed the tossing and turning and tried his best to lull you to sleep this week, fixing you tea in the evening, getting you off your phone or laptop a couple hours before bed. He even started reading to you, but your ears picked up on the white noise of everything in the house. Your brain picked up the embarrassing memory that you hadn’t even considered in decades and now holding it in front of your mind’s eye for hours on end during the week. 

Like right now, you should’ve been at home sleeping. Your work was giving you a long weekend and you really could’ve used the time to catch some extra Z’s, but you were, admittedly, a little scared to stay home. Sure maybe you did fall asleep cuddled up next to Duke. But you worried that you’d stay up, worry yourself sick some more so when Calum told you he had some errands to run you immediately tagged along. The time running around would hopefully tire you out enough that when you got home you could actually fall asleep. 

So after Calum’s personal training session in the morning, which you sort of tagged along for, but mostly went through your own routine and getting a solid breakfast, you two were now buzzing around from store to store. Calum had gotten most of the grocery the other day, but he forgot a couple things so your first objective was to grab those and bring them back up. He then had to go to the post office to mail out his mother’s birthday cards and a few other things. 

While in the line at the post office, your head tucked into his back, Calum got a phone call from a guitar shop on the other side of time about a new model that had just come in. Calum had been eying it for ages, but he didn’t want to be reckless with his money especially after getting some work on his teeth and to the house. So he asked the guitar shop to keep an eye out for when more stock arrived in case it sold out before Calum felt comfortable spending a large sum of money like that again. 

The store agreed to set one off to the side for him and could keep it on hold until the end of the day. Which was perfect--still gave the two of you time to get lunch. You didn’t need to get anything, didn’t need to do anything. But even after lunch, Calum made one more pit stop. Here now at the gas station, you sit peering through the windshield and can see a mother with her two sons walking from the doors. They boys hold brightly colored icees in their hand, each clutching a bag field with goodies. 

You aren’t entirely sure whey Calum needed to stop here for anything. It’s not like he needed stamps, since he got those at the post office. He hadn’t pulled in to get gas. Lunch had been filling, though you tried not to stuff yourself too much just because you knew that on a long car ride, the last thing you wanted to do was be uncomfortably full. 

The door opens again, Calum strutting through with his glasses covering his eyes and resting comfortably atop the chubby cheeks. Barely hanging from the crook of his fingers is a brown plastic bag. The doors click open and he climbs into the driver seat. The guitar shop wasn’t that far, but today seemed to be a busy day on the road. Took you all too long just to get to the grocery store this morning. 

“Snacks?”

“Was craving something sweet after lunch.” 

You peer into the bag as he hands it over to you. Some gummy bears, gum, a bar or two of chocolate you can’t quite tell. You set it onto the floor at your feet. “Let me know when you want something.” But he’s already tearing into a Twix bar when you glance at him. “Or not,” you laugh. 

“The other stuff is for you--if you want to indulge. Can’t forget ya,” he pushes the glasses down for just a moment to wink at you and then looks into the rearview mirror. 

“Do you think you’re going to get this one?” you asks as the SUV rolls out from the parking lot and onto the asphalt of the highway. 

“Hmm, maybe. Gotta see how it feels first.”

You nod at his question, resting your head into the cushion of the seat. And it goes quiet for a while. The radio plays softly in the background, and every so often the packaging crinkles as Calum downs more of the chocolate and caramel treat. 

“Valentine’s Day is coming up soon,” Calum states, while paused in a bit of traffic. “Got any ideas on what you want to do for it?”

You think for a moment. Valentine’s Day has never been your thing--being perpetually single does that to a person. “Restaurants are going to be a nightmare.”

“Yeah, they will be.” Another crinkle comes from the right side of the car and then his arm reaches behind your seat, finding the small bag of trash you stash there--though you have to be careful when Duke sits in the backseat. Generally though, he doesn’t mess with too much. “My mom sent me a recipe of hers. It’s really good.”

“I’d be down for cooking.”

“Nothing else? Don’t wanna go sky diving? Give me another heart attack?”

You laugh thinking about the first birthday you spent with Calum together as a couple. “You didn’t die.”

“But I did almost shit myself.”

“You can play on stage to thousands of people, but no, jumping from a plane is a no-go.”

“Yes, because I am a sane human.”

You huff out a small tuft of laughter and turn to look at him. One hand on the wheel with the stainless steel linked chain dangling from his wrist. His other arm is resting against the door, gently tapping out a beat with his long slender fingers. “Do you want to do anything?”

“Valentine’s Day,” he scoffs. “How long have we been dating? When have I ever been dying to do anything on some random day in February.” His statement doesn’t fall venomously from his mouth. He even looks over to you with a smile. “I don’t need one day out of 365 to declare my love for someone.”

And it’s true. While Calum wasn’t super accepting of love from new people, while it took you months to show Calum that you were trustworthy and not someone to keep at an arm’s length, once he cracked open, he oozed adoration and love for people. And you knew it was a defense mechanism. You knew that when someone did care as hard as Calum did it wouldn’t always be an easy thing to win over. 

Calum, when he finally let someone one, loved hard. It could be a random Tuesday in July or a Sunday in February, and he would make sure his love was known. He never needed a special occasion to send flowers, to cook dinner, to offer to drive you to doctors appointments because he knew that sometimes you got too nervous or flustered by them to drive but did manage to push through if absolutely necessary. He’d easily pick up some gloves and an extra sponge if he saw you wiping down the walls in the kitchen or wiping through the counter. He kept fridge cleaning days marked on the calendar. And when you added reminders to wash bed sheets to the shared one, he also include rest breaks for you too. 

Calum had never needed someone to force him to show appreciation. 

“I mean, there is the option to literally do nothing on Valentine’s Day. Like treat it as any other day.”

“That’s still something,” he countered, turning on his signal and switching out from the middle lane. His exit was approaching in another mile and a half. 

“Oh fuck off,” you laugh. “We can’t cease to exist that day. Bare minimum we need to convert oxygen into carbon dioxide.”

Calum laughs softly, showing some of his teeth too. “Fair, fair. There’s another Netflix documentary coming out, true crime one. I forget what it’s fully about, but I think it’s about a serial killer if you’d be down to start it then?”

“When would I ever turn down the opportunity to be a detective with you?”

“You haven’t yet,” he states with laughter in his voice. 

“And I never will.” The ramp takes the two of you down and down and soon you’re winding through streets and not too far you can see the shopping center coming into view. He pulls into the lot of the shop and the two of you step out in unison. 

The bell above the door chimes as he opens it for you and you smile often in your thanks. “Hey, Calum!” one of the guys at the register calls out. The store is fairly empty. But you’re not shocked on a Tuesday afternoon. 

“Hey, Derek. How’s it going?” Calum heads directly over to the counter and you look up to the left wall, at the records on display.

“Let me know if you need anything,” the second guy states to you, “or if you want to see anything.” He’s younger than Derek, both look to be equally tattooed from the pieces that peek out from the short sleeve work shirts, but his face is significantly brighter. 

“Thanks,” you return and go back to the displays. You can hear Calum and Derek chatting but slowly tune it out, make it background noise to the music playing through the speakers. 

You turn to walk towards the back where more instruments sit and you can see Calum leaning into the glass display of the counter. The palms of his hand pressed into the metal edge. The sunglasses sit on top of his head and you notice the younger guy glancing over at you again.

He nods again and then goes back to his computer. Nothing else is said. And you look over the stringed instruments, ukuleles, some violins and then you spin around again, done with that lap and go to head up to Calum. “See anything?” he asks. 

You shake your head. “You’re the musically talented one. I just nod and smile when you talk about it.”

Derek returns, a case in hand. He comes out from the hinged doors that separate the sales floor from the registers and back of the store. You scoot a little closer to the display as the case is transferred over. Calum takes it easily heading to the corner you just abandoned to sit and check out the instrument. It’s a beautiful deep green, almost reminds you of the thick Washington forest. The body is slender. 

“That’s a pretty cool color,” you note, watching Calum work his fingers over the frets. 

He grins up at you. “Think so?” You give another nod. He doesn’t inspect it long before you can see the desire to give in crosses his face. 

Derek’s standing close by and you turn to him and keep your voice as close to a whisper as you can while still being heard. “What’s a bass like that cost?”

He rattles off the price, one eyebrow slightly raised over the other. You know Calum will riot--he’ll pitch a fucking fit. But you reach into your wallet and slide out your card. You had been saving--for a year. You wanted to do something big for Calum. You just didn’t know what it was yet specifically though you had some ideas, a bass was top of the list.  But you didn’t want to try and go out and buy a bass without consulting him, without getting an understanding of what he liked. You thought about maybe a really good leather jacket and some more boots. He loved the ones he had, wore them as much as he could. 

And when you mentioned possibly getting him more, he told you the ones he had were still in good shape. Calum wasn’t the type to just buy clothes to buy them. He indulged here and there, but always made a point to wear something he had down before replacing it. You’d tease the subject a couple more times after that, but he never took the bait and you weren’t going to force him into a thing he didn’t want or need. 

But it’s clear to you that this is something he wants. But he’ll tussle with himself and never give in on it. It’s pricer than you thought it would be. But you too were being smart, having finally paid off the last of your car, you start moving those payments to savings and it helped a great deal. You were fine. You get insurance and the whole deal as Derek advises. By the time you slide the receipt back across the counter, Calum comes back to the registers. “I appreciate you holding it for me, man. But I don’t think I can right now.”

Derek looks at you and you look down into the glass. “It’s--it’s yours, dude.”

“What?” Calum breathes behind you. 

“They-uh, they paid for it,” Derek says, nodding at you.

You can feel the heat in your body now and spin around to face Calum in a rush. “Consider it a not Valentine’s Day gift.”

“What? What are you talking about?”

“Ever since I finished paying off my car, I saved the payments to do something nice for you. Didn’t know what it was going to be for sure. But I know you, Calum. You’d want something and tell yourself no. I mean you can treat yourself sometimes.”

“You-you didn’t?” His eyes are rapidly blinking, head shaking like he doesn’t want to believe you. Like he can’t believe you as his mouth mumbles out, “No,” repeatedly. 

“It’s yours,” you nod. “It’s really yours.”

If it weren’t for the weight of the bass, you’re sure Calum would’ve tipped over, maybe even rushed to Derek to hand the case back over, but instead he’s weighed down, chained to this spot in the blue speckled carpet of the store, still repeating, “No,” softly. 

“‘I hate to break it to you, but you’re gonna have to find space in your office for it now. Because I refuse to return it.” You step forward, find the handle and slip your hands around it taking it from Calum. A small grunt leaves you and then you start to the door, throwing a thanks to Derek. 

The lights to the SUV blink and you can hear the locks clicking open as you push open the door to the store. “Wait--what are you doing?” Calum asks. 

“Open the trunk please,” you ask. 

“Let me do it,” he demands, stepping in close to take the case with the bass now. “What the fuck did you do? Baby, this is expensive.”

“It’s not a Valentine’s Day gift,” you answer again. “Because I love you. On a random Tuesday.”

He gets the instrument safely into the trunk and then closes it, watching dumbly as you climb into the passenger side. He walks to the driver seat and climbs in, taking you gently by the chin. “That was absolutely reckless and unnecessary-- ”

“I am just absolutely reckless and unnecessary then,” you counter, “because I’m not returning it.”

“--but thank you. Thank you so much,” he continues as if you hadn’t interrupted him. “I love you.”

“I love you.” Then it’s silent, as the two of your gaze at each other, watching what could almost be tears well in his eyes, but they don’t fall. 

“I don’t know what I did to deserve a person like you, but whatever it was, I’m glad I did it.”

“I’m glad you did it too.” The two of you return home, Duke rushing to the front door as the two of you step through it. Calum safely places the bass in his music room/office and returns shortly after to help you decide on what to order for dinner. 

As the two of you settle onto the couch, Calum takes your hand and presses a kiss to teach knuckle. “I’m gonna teach you how to play.”

“You know we’ve done this before.”

“And you were good at it.”

“I was alright at it.”

“It’ll be your bass,” he whispers. 

“I bought it for you,” you return tossing your head back to look at him. 

He kisses your lips. “Yeah, but it’ll be the one that I teach you to play for real one and it’ll be yours--just as much as it is mine.”

“A true sap,” you laugh, but nod and return your focus back to the TV. 

In the week that follows, Calum makes sure to take an hour in the evenings to set you down and pick up on the lessons. They fizzled out as work for the both of you picked up. But now things are a bit more calm. He sits next to you, assessing what you remember from last time and correcting finger placements as needed, but they go smoothly. 

When Valentine’s Day does come, Calum pulls you back into bed for just five more minutes of sleep. And five minutes turns into half an hour. But finally you two pull yourself out from the sheets, figure out what to do in the midmorning that results in food being consumed and then you slowly gravitate towards different sections of the house. 

There’s still a bit of laundry to be done and Calum takes Duke out for just a little bit. The two of you migrate back together by mid afternoon. He finds you making a quick lunch and presses a kiss to your cheek. You turn to face him, squeezing at his. “I bought some face masks,” he offers. “Care to join me in doing the bare minimum of converting oxygen into carbon dioxide after your lunch?”

“Don’t see how I could pass up such a wonderful offer? You want anything?” He shakes head, mentioning grubbing on some of the leftovers earlier while you took a nap. 

With your lunch done and the plates cleaned, you find Calum in the bedroom and let him know you’re ready for the face masks. He shuffles to the bathroom. “I hope I got the right one for you,” he mutters. “I got them forever ago it feels, so who the hell knows what I got.” His laughter is soft as he rummages through the bins under the skin. 

“I’ll be in the office,” you tell him and he nods, still pulling bins out. You settle into the couch and spy the green bass still on the stand from yesterday. You pull it into your lap and sling your arm over it. The amp next to you is off, you know but you still pluck away at it as if it were on. 

Calum shuffles in a few minutes later. “Um, babe. It’s off.”

You don’t reply but do look up. He holds up three different packages. “Here’s to hoping one of these is worthwhile.” You place your bass back to the stand and take one that sounds like one you’re okay with using. Calum hands you a towel so you can wipe your fingers off after you get it placed onto your face. He helps get it right and then you help him with his and the two of you slip onto the couch, legs entangled and leaning into opposite ends of the couch.

You laugh at Calum’s story as you scroll mindless through app after app. In the boredom you snap a picture of Calum with the face masks on and don’t think too much of it, saving it to the album with all the silly and cute photos of him are--there are tons. 

“I mean the sun is a star. Though the ones we see have been dead for a long time.”

Calum taps your leg with his foot. “It was a simple question--to be the sun or the stars. I didn’t ask for this philosophical crisis.”

“Why would it not weigh in your decision! If you’re a star like the ones we see at night, you’re technically already dead. You wanna be dead?” You huff, sitting up. 

“I mean, no, but c’mon.”

“It’s a valid thing to consider, that’s all I’m saying!”

He laughs. “Okay, sun or the moon?”

“You first,” you return and just then your alarm on your phone goes off. The two of you shuffle back to the bathroom and take off the masks. 

“Moon, maybe,” he counters. 

You nod. “Fitting. When should we get started on that recipe of your moms? Is it super involved?”

“Nah, it’s pretty easy. Normal time should be good. I’m going to read outside if you want to join.”

“Maybe in a bit.”

Calum nods, grabbing his book as he passes through the bedroom and the patter of Duke’s claws follow behind him. You go back to the music room, turn on the amp and then actually play a little something. It’s nothing fancy--just the arrangement you put together with Calum as a practice exercise once. You play it for a bit, adding a little flair. When you phone rings, you pause to answer it. You wouldn’t normally, but the number looks semi recognizable so you answer it. 

It’s just a scam call and you hang up but then notice some other notifications. Before you realize it, you’re deep into Twitter. You’ve run across the trend of people posting pictures of themselves and their significant others with the caption, The Face Vs The Face Sitting On It. It made you laugh just a little bit at first. And then you kept going down the rabbit hole. Some are silly, most are good pictures. 

While it’s not exactly secret that you and Calum are dating, you two don’t post too much. Calum isn’t incline to post on social media in the first place and while you use it a bit more than him, you try not to post too much about him out of respect. However, as you look tap on quote retweet and bring up your photos you think maybe one silly post wouldn’t hurt. So you grab the one of him recently with the face masks and then one of yourself--it’s silly too, a little blurry too in the darkness that it was taken in. 

You hit post and watch the likes come in. Then keep scrolling. Eventually you have to put the bass away and peel yourself from the couch to find Calum and see if he’s hungry enough for dinner. Just as you round the corner to the office, you spy him stepping through the glass sliding backdoor. “Hungry?” you ask. 

He nods, “Yeah.”

The two of you, with Duke trotting ahead, make your way down the hallway and into the kitchen. “You’re funny,” he states, washing his hands first. 

“Thank you. I’ll be here until you kick me out.”

He laughs. “No, the pictures you posted. On Twitter.”

You’re shocked that he noticed it that fast. Normally it took him a bit longer to see silly stuff like that. “Hope you don’t mind.”

“Nah. What I hope you don’t mind is my reply.”

At first you’re nervous. Calum could’ve gone one of two ways--super silly and broke out even worse photos of you possibly not sober or he went super on trend with it and pulled out a photo of you done up for a date night. Not that you preferred one over the other, but sometimes you liked to keep your relationship light on social media. It was easier that way. There wasn’t any real pressure that way. Though the fans seemed to have enjoyed it when you posted more posed and serious content. 

You liked to keep it a bit more real. You and Calum didn’t do the whole nine yards a lot--you two were normal people who hated getting out of bed some days and went as well into the afternoon before showering at times and walked Duke and went to doctor’s appointments like everyone does. So you always opted for a bit of a joke, a silly Tweet or photo whenever you could. 

“What did you post?” you ask. 

He shrugs, taking up the knife to dice the onion. “I’m not telling you.”

You glance at the printed out recipe and get a pan on the aisle over medium heat before pulling out your phone. As you load the app, you listen to the snap of the knife fitting the wooden cutting board. You type Calum’s name and tap onto his profile. 

While there’s is silly--I do want to take a moment to show off my favorite person in the world. So here we go, The Face Vs. The Face Sitting On It. Below is attached a picture of him--you snapped while you two were out for lunch one day. The black t-shirt tight around his biceps as he slyly grins into the camera. The lights in the background are just barely in focus of the resturant and Calum’s glancing out of the window next to him. You remember that you were recording him, or at least you thought you were, and told him that he was handsome. Not the first time, but everytime he did, he blushed and turn away. And you captured it here too. 

The photo of you is actually one with him in it. The guys got together and did a big family dinner and the two of you posed at Crystal’s request in the slightly matching outfits. You hadn’t intended to match--though black was a staple in both your wardrobes. You were a bit different thanks to the pop of color in your shoes, but in the lighting of the street lamp, you had to admit that you did look hot. The first couple of  buttons on your shirt you were undone and with your hands tucked into the pockets, you looked like you owned shit. 

“While I hoped that you’d go with something more silly, I will take this,” you finally say. 

“That picture is literally my background for a reason,” he returns. 

You kiss his cheek and then trace over the stubble with your teeth to his ear. “Can I make a reservation for tonight?”

“The table is reserved for you literally at all times,” he returns in a breathe. 

“Good,” you laugh and then glance back to the recipe. 

[9tzuyu]

run into me sunday pt. ii

pt. i

notes: i am yet again projecting my own issues in fics lmao. this isn’t my favorite work, but i wanted to make a second part. this is the result. all mistakes are mine as im too lazy to proofread :P.

warnings: heavy talk of having an eating disorder.

requests are open!

the first few of weeks at natasha's house were fine. you tried really hard not to think about all the changes happening. like being monitored 24/7, or having to abide by natasha's rules all the time, or knowing that you were growing to be healthy.

it was okay, at first.

you hardly put up a fight when it came down to her rules. even meal time seemed to go without a hitch.

but as many people have said before, all good things cone to an end.

the second you woke up today, you could already tell it wasn't going to be fun. everything you'd pushed aside came crawling back, and you could feel every insecurity of yours heighten a thousand times worse than before.

nat's arms rest gently around your waist, and while it normally felt reassuring, you couldn't help but notice the extra weight you'd put on.

you still felt overly full from last night. if natasha woke up right now, you were positive she could feel how expanded your stomach was.

(god, you did not want her to feel how bloated you still were.)

now you knew there was nothing wrong with having a stomach, especially one that wasn't flat or as unwell as yours had become. but it was your body, and your body felt wrong.

feeling natasha's breath on the back of your neck, you gingerly began removing her arm from your body. however, your plan quickly failed when natasha pulled you in closer, her grip tightening around you.

you bit your lip to suppress your cries. you needed out and you needed out right now.

things quickly became unbearable. the longer you felt trapped, the more your body began to tremble. and though you despised it, you turned around to face natasha, your head buried in the crook of her neck.

the thoughts were loud. much louder than they had been the past few weeks.

you tried to keep your cries to a low level, but that didn't seem to work. natasha awoke within the very same minute. her first instinct was to check on you, but seeing as tears were streaming down your face she knew what the problem was.

nat pulled you closer to her, letting her right hand rub the backside of your body in an attempt to calm you down.

"hey now, it's okay, it's alright. you're okay, you're safe, you're here. i'm here." you continued to sob, letting every detail of your own self hatred slip from your mouth.

natasha wasn't surprised at the outburst. she knew you would have days like this, more days would soon follow. that was reality. she didn't expect your recovery to be perfect, if it was then she would know you weren't really getting better – simply putting on weight to please her.

she couldn't take away your pain (although she wished she could), but she could be there, offer you her love and support, coax you through meals when you needed her to.

when you'd finally calmed down you turned away from her, suddenly embarrassed at how you acted. she could feel you tense back up again, a failed attempt at blocking her out.

it was nat, who were you to think she couldn't read you like an open book?

nonetheless, she kissed the back of your head and moved out from under the covers. "i'm going to make breakfast, i'll be back."

you sighed. breakfast was not an option.

but 15 minutes later natasha returned with a plate of eggs, toast and a cup of fruit on the side. she even made it all pretty and nice for you.

“up, y/n. i know you don't want to, but you have to eat.”

"no," you mumbled, bringing the blanket over your head. she tugged them away instantly, "yes."

"it's too early."

"you didn't say that yesterday-"

"well i'm saying it today, natasha. now fuck off."

natasha knew better than to take your words to heart. if anything, she found it rather entertaining to see just how far you'd go to try and push her buttons.

an idea came to mind, a negotiation, really.

"tell you what, no breakfast, but you have to eat lunch and three snacks between dinner."

you thought about it for a second before peeking from underneath the covers, "deal." natasha patted your side, "i'm only doing this because you've been doing so well these past few weeks. don't count on this deal happening again." she spoke thoroughly, the plate of food now on its way into the kitchen trash-bin.

while you laid in bed natasha texted wanda. the redhead thought it would be beneficial for the younger woman to pay a visit. she knew how close the two of you were and decided to invite her over. it wasn't much, but the idea of wanda coming over and (possibly) helping you in any shape or form was very reassuring to natasha.

wanda texted back almost instantly, informing her that she was just short of an hour out, having to stop for gas on the way. natasha thumbs up'd her message and began planning out the day.

before either of you knew it, it was 12 noon. lunch had approached sooner than expected. wanda and natasha easily got caught up in a conversation. the only thing keeping time was nat's alarm that set off.

"time to go wake y/n up," natasha giggled, although she knew you'd be a challenge today. wanda followed her, too excited to wait on surprising you with lunch.

"y/n! c'mon, a special someone is here to see you."

a groan could be heard from the bed as you up to see who was there. you smiled at the sight of wanda and she immediately brought you in for a squeeze-the-life-out-of-you hug.

you didn't miss her smile faltering when she let you go.

you were still just as boney and thin as you were when you left the compound. three weeks was nothing, but you swore you could feel every ounce of weight gain coming back.

wanda helped you out of bed, allowing you to lean on her as she guided you into the kitchen. it was a good thing too, because you were more light headed than usual.

"what are you doing here?" wanda smiled and pushed the already prepared plate of food towards you. it'd been a few minutes and you hadn't even touched your fork. "what? couldn't surprise you?" natasha giggled from your left. you already seemed to be in a much better mood with wanda around than you had been this morning. but both women caught onto the fact that you were only shoving the food on your plate, not making any effort at all to actually eat it.

nat tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, "you have to eat, you know the deal we made." her push was soft, but it didn't make things any easier.

you sighed, tightening the grip around your fork. things like this shouldn't be so hard. it was food. food is fuel, food is good, but somewhere in your mind those messages were twisted and crumpled into something that could never be more false.

you leaned into natasha, keeping your face shielded away from the plate. tears sprung into your eyes and you begged for her to not make you eat.

"tasha, just one day, please. i promise i'll eat tomorrow-"

"i wish that were true, i really do, sweetheart." nat rubbed your shoulder before pushing you back, forcing you to look her in the eyes. "i'm going to go grocery shopping and run a few extra errands. wanda will be here to watch you finish your meal and to have a snack or two before i get back. i love you, okay?"

(you knew she did. but holy fuck, why did she have to do this to you.)

"yeah, you too." and with that, natasha grabbed her keys, kissed you on the forehead and left.

you don't know why, but you didn't actually think wanda would listen to natasha. that belief was quickly thrown out when you moved to get up from the table, wanda quick to grab your wrist and stop you from going to far.

"stay. please? just a few bites, i won't tell natasha if you don't..." she pleaded. a feeling of safety grew in your chest. your level of trust with her had always been high, but this time it felt more intimate. wanda was seeing you at your worst, a vulnerable position you'd never let anyone else but tasha see, and yet, wanda decided to stay.

it took over an hour for you to manage half a meal. wanda sat through it all, however, and coaxed you through each bite.

now, two hours later with a snack in hand, you sat quietly on the porch, head resting on wanda's lap with her fingers tied in your hair.

"do you talk to nat?"

"sometimes. actually yeah, most of the time i talk to her. it helps, and she's a great listener." you complimented.

"wanda?"

"hm?"

"why are you doing this?"

wanda looked down at you, seeing your eyes bore into her and bit her lip, "it's hard to see the girl that i loved and the girl that came back. i should've noticed before you went on your mission, but i didn't because i was too wrapped up with my own issues."

"you can't blame yourself, wanda. i didnt want to be seen. you couldn't have done anything different."

she hummed, ears perking up at the sound of natashas car pulling in the driveway.

you jumped up from her lap and ran to help tasha with her groceries, earning a loving glare from the redhead.

oh yeah. no strenuous activity. too many calories that you needed would be burned off. at least that's what you were told anyway.

wanda stayed the rest of the day, even through dinner. (only because you begged natasha to let her stay that long.)

natasha didn't seem to mind that she stayed. the redhead heard more laughs and giggles from you than she'd heard in the past six months.

the worst part about the day ending was the fact that wanda had to leave eventually.

(eventually being now.)

you pouted. you weren't ready for her to go just yet.  she'd taken your mind off of so much today and you weren't sure you could face it again. really, you didn't want to face it again.

"i believe in you." she murmured.

stupid mind reading.

wanda rolled her eyes, "i'm serious, y/n. you've got this. you're amazing."

“you're only saying that because you have to.”

her eyebrows pulled together. "no. i'm saying it because i know it's true. you've got a gift, y/n. what you have– you're going to get it back."

you inhaled.

"next time i see you, i want you to be a little bit more healthy, okay?" wanda gave you a tight hug and left without another word. she just hoped the next time she saw you it wasn't in a casket.

you hoped the next time you saw her, you'd be better.

today wasn't easy, but it gave you a taste of everything you'd been missing.

and you wanted it back.

[mrsalwayswrite]

To Call Forth Love- Chapter 4

So I planned for this chapter and the next to originally be one but as I started writing it, the words kept flowing and oops....now its really long. So I decided to split it. This means that I’m pretty much done with the next chapter so I’ll be able to get it out in a few days! Yay!

Also, Ivar is pretty manipulative in this chapter. Someone made a comment in the last chapter that I want to acknowledge. Going forward this is kind of a theme but I just want to put that warning statement- if this is triggering for you, please read with caution. There is nothing explicit or graphic but its still manipulation. 

Words:4000

Warnings: swearing, manipulation

Tag List: @youbloodymadgenius​

Series Masterlist

Sitting in the office at work, Kari sipped on her smoothie as she plugged in numbers for an inventory order. She had just finished teaching one of her morning classes and was now doing some paperwork for Lydia while on her "lunch break". 

 She jumped when her phone suddenly buzzed- a text alert. Surprised and curious as to who would be texting her at this time, she unlocked her phone to see the text from an unknown number. 

 Unknown: hey u busy 2nite?

 Kari: who is this?

 Unknown: u fav person

 Kari: OMG! Ed Sheeran?!

 She giggled quietly to herself, returning back to the laptop screen. Normally she ignored any calls or texts from unknown numbers, but it had been a good morning and she was feeling playful. When there was no return text, she shrugged the conversation off and returned to the order. Apparently, the unknown number did not get the reaction they were hoping for or realized they text the wrong person. Either way, she did not care. 

 A couple minutes later, her phone started to vibrate repeatedly. Looking down, she saw she was getting a call from the unknown number. She hesitated to answer, but by the third ring her curiosity got the better of her and she answered it. 

 "Hello?"

 "FUCKING ED SHEERAN? REALLY?"

 She sat there stunned. "Ivar?"

 "Of course, it's me. Who the fuck were you expecting?" He asked, angrily. 

 "How did you get my number?"

 He ignored her question, his voice suddenly sounding muffled. "Yeah, yeah, I'll be a second…. damn it. I know!"

 "Who is that?" 

 "My brother.” He scoffed, muttering something unintelligible under his breath, before speaking to her again. “I have to head back into a meeting now."

 "Oh, ok?"

 "You didn't answer my question."

 Her mind was still reeling from the fact that Ivar Lothbrok had her number and was calling her out of the blue. "What question?"

 He huffed, exasperation evident in his tone. "Are you busy tonight?"

 "Why?"

 "I want to take you out."

 "Ivar," she sighed, pressing a hand to her forehead, "I told you, I can't."

 "Yeah and I don't believe you, so…."

 "No. I'm sorry but the answer is still no."

 "Fine. I have to go." He snapped then abruptly ended the call.  

 Slowly, she pulled the phone away from her ear and stared at it. What just happened? Before she forgot, she added his number to her contacts since she had the distinct feeling this would not be the last time he contacted her. Once done, she set her phone down and dropped her head into her hands. 

 It had been two days since he drove her home and she said they could be friends. In those two days, this was the first contact they had. She had hoped he grew bored with her since she was not playing his game, that she refused to go out with him. Maybe he finally decided she was not worth his time and moved on? Which was for the best. She could never fit into his world, there was no space for her there. Nor did she want to. She was happy, content with her life. 

 It was better for her to not allow Ivar into her life. That's what she repeated to herself as she tried to focus on the inventory order. 

 *****

 "Just put the bags right there, thank you." Kari said, placing the grocery bags, one in each hand, onto the tiled floor. The kitchen in her townhouse was small, two people could barely move around in it without bumping into one another. Thankfully, she did not spend much time in the kitchen. Cooking had never been her forte. 

 "Do you need anything else? I don't mind staying to help." The dirty-blond haired man asked, setting the two bags he carried down onto the floor. He started to shuffle forward but seemed to think better of it and leaned against the half-wall separating the kitchen from the short hallway. 

 "Erik, it's fine. If anything, I owe you. You never let me pay for gas money."

 He shrugged, and tucked his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. "It's not a big deal. I needed to shop too."

 "Still, it's not fair to you." She turned around from placing the milk in the fridge to look at him. 

 "If I think of something you can do to repay me, I'll let you know. Deal?"

 "Perfect."

 "Do you still want a ride to work tomorrow?"

 She shut the door and jokingly waved a hand at him. "See! You're too nice."

 "I'd be ‘too nice’ if I also showed up with coffee for you."

 She laughed, moving some frozen fruit into the freezer. "You're too perfect to not have a girlfriend." 

 He rubbed the back of his neck, a flush growing on his cheeks and drawing out a boyish smile. "I don't know if I'd say that. I'll let you get to it. I'll meet you outside at nine?"

 "Thank you, Erik."

 "Of course." He popped his head around the wall to look into the living room. "See you, Alana!"

 "Bye, Erik!" The response came from the living room. 

 Kari continued to put her groceries away as she heard the front door click shut behind him. Somehow, she needed to figure out a way to pay him back. 

 Erik lived in the townhouse next door alone. When he learned that Kari did not own a car, he offered to give her rides whenever it worked out for both of their schedules. At first, she had been hesitant, still not having lived in the townhouse for long but eventually gave in because he always acted like such a gentleman. Every time he saw her, he made sure to greet her and ask about her day. He always held the door open for her and anybody else close by. A negative word never passed his lips, rather choosing to focus on the positive in life. A routine soon started to form and every two weeks they would meet up outside of their townhouses and go grocery shopping together. When she did not have to work early, he would occasionally give her rides to work since the bank he worked at was only a couple blocks away. That was the extent of their interactions though. She wondered about inviting him over for dinner as to thank him but she always chickened out in asking him. Perhaps that was what she needed to do after all.  

 Once all her groceries were put away, she headed into the living room, seeing her roommate and friend sitting on the couch with the TV on to the Great British Bake-off but looking down at her phone. 

 The brunette asked, dropping onto the second couch. "How was work?"

 "Good. You?" Alana looked up, her make-up flawless like usual on her delicate features. 

 "Nothing too exciting."

 "You know, if you'd waited two hours I could have taken you to the store."

 Kari nodded, fiddling with her diamond stud earring. "I know, but you're so busy with work and school. I know you like relaxing when you come home and Erik said he was free today."

 "Did he now?" Alana asked with a smug look.

 Kari tossed a throw pillow at her. "Don't start this again."

 The blonde caught the pillow, still grinning like the Cheshire cat. "You know he likes you. He's just too shy to ask you out."

 "He's a friend, it's been like seven months, I think if he was going to ask me out, he would have done it by now."

 "He. Is. Shy." Alana enunciated, as if talking to a child. She rolled her blue eyes, leaning back against the couch. "Shit, he only started to actually talk to me this summer."

 "Cause you are intimidating."

 Alana threw the pillow back at Kari. "Bitch, it's cause I radiate sexiness and he can't handle it."

 "That is most definitely it." 

 "Well the guy I hooked up with last weekend said I radiated sexiness."

 Kari wrinkled her nose, looking over at her roommate. "I don't want to hear that. It's bad enough when you bring them here."

 "You know, it wouldn't be the worst thing for you to actually go out with Erik. He's…. sweet." She quietly stated, eyes back on the TV. 

 "Yeah."

 "I'm fairly sure he'd treat you better than that fucker of ex."

 Kari picked invisible lint off her black leggings, apprehensive about where the topic was going. Her love life, and lack of it, was something Alana liked to remind her of frequently as of late. "Honestly, I'm even sure anymore he should count as an ex."

 "Well you were supposed to be exclusive, right? And then you find out he's been fucking other girls the whole time. That counts as a shitty ex."

 She winced at the reminder of her one attempt at dating. "I don't…. I don't think I'm ready."

 The blonde pointed a finger at her roommate without turning her eyes away from the TV. "Well don't wait around forever, you'll miss out."

 "Says the woman who hooks up with a different guy almost every other weekend."

 "And I'm not missing out!"

 Kari laughed. Feeling her phone vibrate, she pulled it out of her pocket and checked it to see a new text from Ivar. 

 Ivar: hell no, if we r gng 2 see the Northern Lights thn we're gng 2 Iceland or Norway.

 She smiled at the text, quickly typing in a reply. 

 Kari: fine, we'll add that to the list. Can I please put South Africa back on the list?

 She fiddled with her diamond stud earrings, looking back at their conversation throughout the day. Just looking at all the texts, she bit her lip to try and contain the smile. 

 Ivar had texted her in the late morning, asking her out again. To which she just texted back a one-word answer- "no". Apparently undeterred, he ignored her 'no', saying how he wanted to take her to this popular restaurant. Somehow the conversation spiraled into creating overly outrageous "dates" he would take her on, each one more fantastic than the last, with her encouraging and creating her own ideas. Their texting had lasted all day, and she found herself actually looking forward to his responses. Something she never would have expected, especially after how rudely he hung up on her the prior day. 

 So far her favorite "date" involved him renting out the entire Roman Colosseum in Rome and having a candlelight dinner in the middle of the arena. The most amusing one was when she suggested they go skydiving. He shut down that idea saying they would have to be strapped to instructors and the only man she should ever be strapped to was him. 

 Her phone vibrated in her hand, alerting her to his response. 

 Ivar: u r not swimming w/ sharks 

 She giggled, trying to imagine his facial expression. She actually had no desire to do half of the stuff she suggested but it was funny to get a rise out of him. 

 Kari: African safari?

 "What are you giggling at?" Alana questioned, giving her the side-eye. 

 The smile dropped from her face. "Nothing."

 "That doesn't sound like nothing."

 "Just a funny meme." She deflected, getting to her feet. There was no way she could tell Alana she had been texting Ivar all day. "I'm going to shower."

 As she headed upstairs to her room, her phone vibrated again. 

 Ivar: do u jus luv danger?

 Kari: I'm talking to you, aren't I? 

 She headed to her bathroom, turning the shower on and checking the temperature. In a spur of the moment decision, she tossed in a eucalyptus shower bomb. 

 Just before she jumped in, she looked at her phone one last time to find his response.  

 Ivar: touche, kitten, touche 😘

 *****

 The soothing soundtrack of nature played over the speakers in the yoga studio room. A few women were already in the studio with their yoga mats out, either stretching or quietly conversing as they waited. Depending on the day, the ten am morning class could be busy but typically it averaged about fifteen to twenty women.

 Kari bent over, touching her palms to the floor. Even though she would not be continuously doing the routine along with those in her class, she still liked to be limber and have her muscles warmed up. This was a beginner class, where she spent a good portion of the time either correcting people's forms or showing how to do a certain pose. A few of her coworkers complained about teaching beginner classes since when the participants walked through the door, you never really knew what level they were at. 

 Checking the clock hanging over the door, she saw she had five minutes before her class started. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, enjoying the pull of her muscles. The door to the studio room opened but Kari continued to stretch, shifting to a downward facing dog pose, holding it. She could hear some people moving around but she focused on her breathing.  

 "Mmm, I could get used to seeing this."

 The familiar voice behind her, caused Kari to try and whip around in startled surprise, only to end up crashing onto her ass. 

 Above her stood Ivar with a devilish smile. "Hello, kitten." He softly said with smolder that instantly made her flush and a tendril of warmth curl in her belly. Standing there in his jeans and red shirt with his hair pulled back in a man bun, it was unfair how striking he looked. Even the braces over his legs did nothing to deter from his attractiveness. 

 She rose quickly to her feet, wiping her hands over her leggings and peeking at the others in the room. Most were curiously watching their interaction but remained where they were. 

 "What are you doing here?" She hissed, turning her gaze back up to meet his. "How did you find me?"

 He rolled his eyes. "You were wearing a Whole Wellness Yoga Studio shirt when I drove you home last week. Plus, hearing from Gyda that you work here…. You're not that hard to find."

 That made sense, even if she disliked the logic. "Ok, fine. Why are you here though?"

 "I want to take you out tonight."

 "Oh gods." She could not believe what she was hearing. The prior day they had spent most of the day texting and sure it was fun, but her answer had not changed. When he had not text her this morning, she assumed that was the last she had heard from him. Apparently, he decided to ask her out in person instead of over the phone like the past two times. "Ivar… No."

 "Why? You keep saying you can't but never why."

 "It's just…. look, I don't want to date."

 He took a step closer, face inches above hers. His voice dropped low, an underlying current of anger in his tone. Those piercing blue eyes challenged her. "You say that but I don't think that's the real reason. So, until you tell me the truth, your 'no' means fucking nothing. Friends tell each other things, right?"

 "You know, I don't think we should be friends anymore."

 He chuckled, still standing too close for a normal conversation. "Too late. I like you."

 "I'm still not going out with you." She placed her hands on her hips, trying to appear confident, hoping desperately he did not hear the wavering in her voice. 'This was for the best, it was best for both of them' she repeated in her mind. 

 "Fine. I'll wait for you to change your mind." He winked and stepped back. To her horror, she watched as he walked over to the side of the room where she kept her water bottle and light jacket. He grabbed a nearby chair and dragged it over before dropping down with his legs in a manspread, that stupid smirk still on his face. 

 She stomped over to him, whisper-shouting at him. "What are you doing?"

 "I'm waiting."

 "What?"

 "I'm not leaving until you agree to go on a date with me."

 "You can't...no…. Ivar." She whined. 

 "I walked all the way here to see you, even though my legs are quite painful today…. you wouldn't kick a cripple out when they just need to rest, would you?" He asked, eyes widened in mock innocence. One of his hands rubbed at his knee in exaggerated fashion as if to prove the discomfort he was in. 

 She groaned. "I hate you."

 "No, you don't." He gloated, then nodded towards the clock. "It's ten o'clock, it's time to start your class, I believe."

 Without another word, she moved to the front of the room. She refused to play this game. Her answer was 'no' and no matter what he said or did, her answer would not change. The whole time she could feel his rakish gaze on her, reminding her how tight her leggings and purple tank top were. She tried to focus on her class, smiling at the women she recognized and the ones that she assumed was new. "Let's begin. Everyone start in mountain pose. Take deep breaths, let's center ourselves."

 "Kari!" 

 She looked over at the older woman, Ingrid, who called out. The woman was easily one of Kari's favorites, doting upon those who worked at the yoga studio, and becoming the unofficial grandmother of them. Ingrid had been coming to the yoga studio for years but was forced to only take beginner level classes after a bad fall the prior year. She loudly complained about her doctor being an idiot and how she felt fine, but Lydia refused to let her attend any other class than beginner classes until otherwise said by her doctor. 

 "Yes?"

 Ingrid's hazel eyes twinkled with mischief from the front row where she stood. "You planning on introducing that handsome young man you've got over there?"

 "No, we are going to ignore his presence. He's going to be leaving soon." Kari flatly stated with a polite smile.

 "Hi! I'm Ivar!" He announced with a charming smile, his bright blue eyes alluring under the dim lights. Giving a little wave with his fingers, he continued, "I hope my presence doesn't bother all you lovely women, I just came to see my girlfriend and ask her on a date tonight."

 A chorus of "awwwws" filled the room. 

 Kari wanted nothing more than to bang her head against a wall. Or preferably, Ivar's head. She could not believe the audacity of him.

 "Where are you taking her?" One of the newer women asked in a flirty tone, pulling her shoulders back to emphasize her ample chest. 

 Ivar barely glanced at her, keeping his focus on Kari. "It's a surprise. I wanted to do something special."

 "Young man, if I were a few years younger, I would fight Kari here so you could take me on a date." Ingrid said with a laugh. 

 "I would be honored to take a lovely woman like you on a date." He sent a playful wink to Ingrid. 

 "Alright, let's get back to yoga." Kari tried to redirect the attention. Annoyed and upset did not even begin to describe how she felt. 

 "Well it was lovely to meet you, young man. Kari should have told us her boyfriend was so handsome. We might have convinced her to bring you in sooner for some eye candy." Ingrid teased. 

 "He's not my boyfriend." Kari retorted, shooting a glare at the smug raven-haired man. 

 "And that is why I'm trying to take her on a date." He placed a hand dramatically over his heart, eyes staring at her beseechingly. "Just for her to give me a chance."

 "Get her some tulips. Those are her favorite flowers." Karina called out from the back of the room. 

 "Can't go wrong with chocolate!"

 "Oh! Read her a sonnet and dance under the stars together!"

 "This is so romantic…. like something out of a movie." Someone loudly whispered, making a few others laugh. 

 Kari dropped her chin to her chest. Tears welled in her eyes. She knew those in the class meant well, that they were really just trying to help. But they were helping the wrong person. Why would Ivar not leave her alone? She told him 'no' multiple times, that should have been enough. Her tolerance for his behavior was waning rapidly and honesty she was not sure if she would fight back…. or surrender. 

 The chair scratched faintly on the floor followed by his footsteps landing audibly as he crossed the room to reach her. She refused to lift her head, her eyes squeezed shut. Not just to pretend she could not feel him standing so close to her, but to try and hide the single tear that rolled down her cheek. 

 "Kari." He whispered, the sound a caress of her name. 

 Still she did not move. 

 Gently, he tipped her chin up, forcing her to look at him. His thumb wiped away the evidence of her tear. It was those captivating eyes, the ones that could both scorch everything in view but also send flames of desire dancing across her skin, that met hers. To her surprise, there was a softness in his gaze, a vulnerability, that was reminiscent of the few times they were alone. As if with just her, for a brief moment, he let his guard down and she could glimpse the real Ivar. 

 "Go out with me." He murmured faintly, stroking her cheek with his thumb. Standing in front of her, his broad back to the class gave them a semblance of privacy. "Please."

 "Why can't you let this go?" She begged quietly, staring up at him. 

 "I told you, I'm persistent." He smiled, almost shyly. 

 In his words, it felt like there was such a depth to them she was unaware of. That he was confessing something to her in which she did not have the key to fully understand. 

 She sighed softly, closing her eyes for a moment before looking at him again. "Fine. I'll go…. But it's only as friends, ok? This isn't…. Romantic. Just…. Just friends."

 "Sure, just friends." He leaned forward and pressed a quick, chaste kiss to her cheek. "I'll pick you up at seven."

 She nodded, feeling torn apart inside. 

 After a lingering look that breathed a flame into her belly, he spun on his heel to face the women. "She said yes!"

 A few cheers and clapping reverberated in the small yoga studio room. 

 "I graciously thank you all for your sound advice and encouragement with helping me to woo the beautiful Kari. Wish me luck as I plan to thoroughly spoil her tonight." Ivar dramatically bowed, shooting a quick wink at Kari as she watched him. 

 She desperately tried to fight the small smile off her lips. No one could say that Ivar was not charming or charismatic when it suited him. 

 As he finally made his way to the door, he turned around just before pushing it open. "Wear something nice." He said, pointing a finger at Kari and then walked out like a dream where one cannot decide if it was a nightmare or not. 

 The brunette ran a hand down her face before shoving aside her emotions and plastering a customer smile on. "I'm so sorry about all of this. Let's get back to it. I promise it won't happen again, ladies."

 "Kari, dear, you have fun with that boy tonight." Ingrid spoke up, eyes darting to the now closed door and back to the yoga instructor. "And if you don't want him, let me know. I'd still jump on him in a heartbeat. That boy has the prettiest eyes, I swear."

 A few sounds of agreement echoed in the room. 

 Kari could not stop her smile from turning genuine at Ingrid. No matter the situation, the feisty, older woman always knew how to make her laugh. "I promise I'll let you know. Now, back to mountain pose please."

 Silently, she hoped tonight was not a mistake.

[lunarliza]

Dirty Little Secret | Chapter 4: Ferry Tickets

fuckbuddy!JJ x kook!reader

series masterlist | prev. chapter | chapter one

You and JJ are fuck buddies- strictly physical. But what happens when you find yourself falling more and more for everyone’s favorite golden boy even though all he can see you as is a spoiled rich girl?

note: smut ... like right under here 

“Fuuuck me,” you whimpered, face pressed down to your floral pillowcase. 

“You like that don’t you?” JJ’s hand twisted your hair as the other smacked the side of your ass while he slid himself in and out of you from behind. 

Ted and your mom went into the city for a few days while Macy was off at her tennis lesson which left you with an big empty house for the morning. You had contemplated doing a sunrise yoga on the beach or riding your bike along the pier, but a surprise text from JJ had you cancelling all your self-care plans. 

Which is how you ended up in your current position- under him, back arched, and feeling his thick cock stretch you out. 

“Mm,” you whined, lifting your eyes to his hungry ones as you watched him take you. You felt the cold metal from his rings cling onto your sweaty skin when his hands moved to grip both sides of your hips. 

“Mm, play with me.” 

JJ’s hands snaked around to your wet clit where he gently rubbed you back and forth. It sent you over the edge as you moaned louder into the pillow you were clenching. 

He came into the condom and pulled out of you, collapsing onto your side in a fit of pants. His gold locks were disheveled on his face as his broad chest heaved up and down. You laid in your current position for a few moments, collecting yourself, before springing to the bathroom to get cleaned up. 

You expected him to be gone once you got out, but, much to your surprise, JJ was still submerged in your fluffy white comforter, underwear on, scrolling through his phone. Slightly taken aback, you flopped down next to him. 

You and JJ had this unspoken no cuddling or pillow talk rule, but you decided that, after three months of fooling around, you could at least engage in small talk. 

“Why’d you call me up so early?” you asked, hugging your knees. 

“I was at the store and saw your parents getting gas to leave town. Didn’t see you in the car so I thought you’d be home alone,” he smirked, still glued to his phone, “and I was right.”  

JJ paid a lot of attention to little things- more so than you thought. Here and there he’d bring up a small fact he remembered about you like how you’d braid your hair before swimming or how he saw you talking to someone he thought you didn’t like. It was odd, but you pushed it aside. 

Another thing that always fazed you about him was why he was so open to sleeping with you. You assumed it was him getting off on the satisfaction of fucking a Kook, but the hateful remarks he made the other day on the boat with Rafe confused you. 

“Since when did you start hanging out with Topper and Rafe?” he asked, tossing his phone to the side.

You didn’t expect that question from him. “I don’t. Jade just dragged me with her because she’s trying to get with Rafe.” 

JJ snorted. “Oh Jade... she has a nice rack. And she can do way better than him, he looks like a celery.” 

You giggled at his uncanny comparison. “Hey JJ.” 

He lifted his eyebrows, leaning over on his side. “It was you that day wasn’t it? The day you caught me smoking, you’re the one who fucked up Topper’s bike.” 

You had always wondered what on earth JJ was running from the day you two met. You almost forgot about it until Topper brought up his messed up bike on the boat. You remembered hearing him whine about it months ago during class, the Monday after, and mentally put the pieces together. 

“What’s it to ya?” JJ responded, growing peeved. 

You shrugged. “Just wondering. I just don’t get this war between you guys. It’s honestly ridiculous, like what good is throwing shit at each other or punching each other gonna do?” 

The light-haired boy groaned and sat up in annoyance. “Of course you wouldn’t get it. You’re a fucking Kook. You can do whatever the hell you want- buy whatever you want, hurt whoever you want- and get away with it. Nothing ever affects you because at the end of the day, you just come straight home to your gated neighborhood with not a spec on your back. You’ll never know what it’s like to not have everything you want!” 

You scoffed and crossed your arms, standing from the bed to get away from him. “Well guess what, prick? I actually do know what it’s like. I didn’t always have this stupid life!” 

You ran your hands through your hair and avoided his gaze. That was probably the first time you confessed that out loud to someone since you moved. You heard JJ shift a little on your bed as pure silence soon enveloped you both. 

Since he was already there, why not just let the entire cat out the bag?

“I use to live in a small town outside of Charlotte. My parents didn’t have a lot but they tried to give me and my sister everything they could. My dad would come home late sometimes- there were days when we wouldn’t even see him. My mom sold clothes, shoes, hats, anything she could make at home so we could eat.” You turned to face him. “And as much as it fucking sucked, I liked it better that way than now.” 

“So what happened?” JJ peered up at you with sheer orbs and, for a moment, you forgot about his tactless, cold-blooded self. 

You sighed and pursed your lips. “My parents divorced because my dad kept having to leave and I moved homes for a few years. Then my mom met Ted and I was, unwillingly, initiated to this Kook life.” 

JJ lifted his eyebrows in shock. “You know most people see that as a like a Cinderella story.” 

“Well I see it like hell.” 

He let out a soft chuckle. 

“I know I should be more grateful of everything, but it’s just hard. And weird.” You’re back sitting beside him on the bed at this point. “Like, I’m just not use to this. I’ve never had a phone with internet until now and my mom keeps wanting me to pretend I’m some preppy fairy. And the kids here all suck. They have no personality other than their clothes and cars, and they don’t like me cause I don’t give a shit about that stuff. I really do hate it here. And I miss my dad. I haven’t seen him in years.” 

You plopped your head on the pillow and stared at your ceiling. It was nice to get all that off your chest, especially to JJ who’s been shoving his preconceived notions down your throat. 

“Well I almost feel sorry for you,” JJ said jokingly as you playfully shoved him. 

“But I get it, kinda. I don’t know. My mom passed away, so it’s just me and my dad. He’s,” he paused for a moment, “he has his quirks, you can say. We don’t get along too well, and he’s too busy working to really give me any real attention. It sucks.” 

“I’m sorry,” you comforted as he maneuvered so he was laying down next to you. You both rested side by side, fixated on your plain white ceiling. It was nice to finally talk to JJ without making a snide comment every two seconds. 

“Do you think it’ll get any better?” you asked, out of the blue. 

“You wanna know the truth?” You turned to your side, tucking your arm under your head, ready for his spiel. 

“I think we’re where we are for a reason. Do I wanna get the fuck outta here sometimes? Yeah. But I just know I’m meant to have this life and there’s not much I can do to get out. Just gotta take it day by day.” 

“C’mon, you never dreamed of going anywhere else in the world? Traveling?” you raised, a bit more enthusiastic than you intended to let on. 

JJ exhaled. “I wouldn’t even know where to start.”

The two of you laid in a comfortable silence for a while longer. There was, finally, an air of understanding between you.

“Why don’t you come to our side then?” JJ asked after a few minutes. “If you hate it here in Kookville so much, why don’t you try the other end for a change?” 

“I don’t know. My stepdad thinks The Cut is literally a death wish. He wouldn’t even let my mom go grocery shopping near there. It’s honestly kinda weird to me why he hates it so much.” 

“And he never told you why?” 

You shook your head and JJ retreated in thought. “I think he’s hiding something. Probably has a mistress over there to be honest.” 

You laughed and hit his stomach. “No! Him and my mom are literally attached by the hip! I don’t know... One day Macy went over to see a friend she met and he just flipped. Went over, took her away and everything. Maybe he’s just classist. I mean, he’s old money so I wouldn’t be surprised. But if he is then he wouldn’t have married my mom.” 

“Maybe...” JJ muttered. “I still think he’s hiding something. Could be drugs. You know I see Kook guys come over for coke sometimes. Then, on their lunch breaks, their dads come for the same thing. Father and son bonding if you ask me.” 

“Well, whatever it is, we can add this case to our mystery book,” you laughed. A real, heartfelt laugh. 

You and JJ spent the remainder of the morning talking about your lives, learning how wrong you each were about the other. He told you about the Pogues and how his friend Kiara, who you recognized from school, hangs out with them despite being wealthy herself. On the other hand, you continued to complain to him about all the stuck up nonsense your mother would make you do- to which he actively listened and pitched in his own amusing opinions. 

“What do you need etiquette lessons for? How hard is it to stick your pinky out when you drink?” 

The topic then switched to Topper and his crew. You settled on calling them the Veggie Tales which made you both erupt in laughter. “What was your first time like?” you asked bluntly. 

He threw you an odd look, but continued. “Tourist at a party. I was 15 and I think she was 17? I dunno, but she sure showed me the ropes that night.” He beamed up at the ceiling, thinking back to the time. 

“Aren’t all first times supposed to be really awkward and bad?” 

“Maybe. I don’t really remember it. Just her. She was fine as hell,” he had on his dreamy eyes. “What was your’s like?” 

You let out a sharp breath. You’d never told anyone about it until now. “Before I left the city I was dating this guy for a little while. He came from farmers, so we did it in his uncles barn.” 

“Aw, how romantic,” JJ commented before you smacked him with a decorative pillow. 

“Ow! What? I thought every girl’s dream was to do it with the chickens watching.” 

Your face knotted. “It was horses. And I still have nightmares to this day about the hay sticking at my ass.” 

The boy next to you snickered and went on to tease you about your story, cracking all the farm jokes his little blonde head could come up with. 

“I should get going soon,” JJ informed when you both settled down, “Thursdays I meet Kie at The Wreck to help out.” 

Your eyes jolted. “Thursday?!” 

You soared up from your bed and checked the time on your phone. “Fuck fuck fuck!” Your hands tangled up in your hair in stress. “My debutante lessons!”

“What the fuck is that?” 

“I have to go to Chapel Hill, my ferry leaves in 20 minutes,” you explained while hastily shoving heels into your canvas bag. Then it occurred to you that your parents took your car because theirs was in the shop. 

“Fuck! JJ did you drive here?” 

“Yeah, I parked my friend’s van by the gate,” he answered, still confused at the gibberish you spoke moments ago. 

“JJ I need you to take me to the dock right now! Please! I can’t miss this ferry.” 

“Alright, alright, hurry up then woman! The van only goes up to 110 on a good day.” JJ struggled to get his clothes back on and didn’t even notice his t-shirt on backwards.

You both sprinted out your house and to the front of the neighborhood, past the gate, and towards a clunky old Volkswagen that was parked on the side of the road. You hurried in as JJ fumbled with the keys before thrusting it in the ignition and speeding off towards the dock. 

“Fuck we’re not gonna make it!” you stressed, balling your sweaty palms, as your legs bounced on the torn up seat.

“Don’t worry, don’t worry! She’s old but just give her a minute,” JJ assured before he revved the engine and flew down the street. You were concerned at how he expertly steered the old clunker at 105 miles per hour but were too anxious about missing your trip to bring it up. 

He finally pulled up to the side of the dock. You sighed in relief, seeing people still boarding.

“Aaand here we are! With 3 minutes to spare,” JJ announced, flipping his blonde locks, proud of his Speed Racer work. 

“Thank you for the ride JJ,” you said as you exited the van, “and the heart attack.” 

“Hey, you got here in once peace didn’t you? So I don’t wanna hear it!” 

You giggled and shut the door, heading towards the herd of people while you dug in your bag for your ferry ticket. 

“Have fun at your degenerate lessons!” JJ called out the window at you before speeding away. 

You shook your head with a goofy grin before getting on. 

-----------------------------

chapter five

tags: @starkeybaby​ @obxlife​ @everydayimfangirling​ @iamaunicorn4704​ @tangledinsparkles​ @poguesrforlife​ @thx-quxxn​ @obxmxybxnk​ @rororo06​ @poguesforlife​ @ilymarkchan​ @outrbanks​ @hazelgirl355 @hsunflower @cinnamon-roll-seth​ @alotbnouf @tembo-ndoto​

[lihikainanea]

what is a normal day for Bill and Tiger like? we talk a lot about alll the sexy stuff they do and how that side of their relationship works (my love for that part of their relationship is too large to put into words) but we don’t talk too much about the small domestic aspects of it all - 🍋

Oh god sweet nani, I am so here for the soff domesticated stuff this week. I am just ACHING for some casual intimacy, the doldrums of everyday life but made just a little special when a strong pair of arms wraps around you, or when you roll over in the night and bump into a warm chest. The types of weeks where you’re both just going through bullshit, you’re tired, but it’s also just a little easier to have someone around who is doing little things to make you happy.

Soft, domesticated life is truly the best and most telling form of intimacy. I don’t care if you kiss hello or goodbye in public. I don’t care if you pose for nice photos. Do you hold hands on the couch, when nobody in the world is watching? Do you hug when passing each other in the hallway, when no one would know?

The most incredible, the most telling intimacy is the kind that exists when there is no audience to observe it. There’s no show. There’s no decorum. It’s just pure.

And the normal day to day life...I kind of love it. If Bill isn’t working, he’s still the one to get up early and wake tiger up for work. Tiger is fucking miserable in the mornings, and Bill isn’t a huge fan either but if he can start her day off a little better just by being awake, by hugging her closer as she wakes up, by helping her get out of bed by getting out of bed too--then that’s what he does. He still makes her her coffee even on the weekdays, pops a mug on the sink in the bathroom so it’s there when she gets out of her shower. He doesn’t talk much in the morning because she hates it, so conversation is really kept at a minimum. He gets her lunch ready while she gets dressed, shoves a granola bar in her pocket for her drive to work because tiger gets nauseous if she’s had too much coffee on an empty stomach. Maybe she calls him at lunch, maybe not. There are definitely a few text messages a day. He pours her a glass of wine when she gets in, but tiger also has this thing where she needs to unwind a little from her day. Truth be told, Bill is the same way. She hates coming in from work and immediately eating dinner--she wants some cuddle time on the couch first, glass of wine in hand, she wants to hear about his day and she wants to tell him about hers. No matter how late she gets in, that one hour of wind down time is mandatory.

And like, if Bill is working I kind of think it’s even sweeter. Their weekends tend to be pretty busy in that case, prepping easy meals for the week. He gives tiger his shooting schedule and she looks It over, figures out when he’ll be home that week. There’s always laundry to catch up on, groceries, trying to see where they can fit in some time together. A lot of it is napping too, Bill is physically exhausted from his week and tiger just wants to be near her Big Dude for all those glorious sleepy snuggles.

Bill really only has two types of shooting schedules: day shoots where he’s out of the house at 4AM and back at 8PM, or night shoots where he’s out of the house at 6PM and back at 8AM. Tiger isn’t sure which ones she hates more. When it’s day shoots, she has to throw her own ass out of bed and she doesn’t even get any morning cuddles out of it. After the whole debacle with the last coffee maker, Bill takes a much easier approach now. After his morning coffee (a solid 5 hours before tiger would crawl out of bed for hers) he washes the machine out, gets it ready, and programs it to start brewing 15 minutes before she wakes up so a cup will be ready when she stumbles out of bed for it. He putters around before he leaves--gets her lunch ready and leaves it in the fridge, sticks a note on the front door telling her not to forget her lunch, puts out two towels in the bathroom for her shower (and after his shower, he always leaves a note in the steam on the mirror so that she’ll see it when she gets out of her shower). He’ll kiss her goodbye and try not to wake her up, and if he can, he’ll call her from set when she’s supposed to wake up. it’s not always possible, but he tries his hardest.

Tiger sometimes feels really lonelywhen he’s on day shoots. She wakes up alone, and when she gets back home from work he’s still not there. She’ll pour her glass of wine, relax on the couch. It’s why meal prep on the weekend is so crucial, so that she doesn’t have to run around and scavenge for dinner. She can unwind and wait for him to come home--and she greets him with a big sappy smooch, a long hug, and a glass of scotch. They eat dinner together and usually immediately after, Bill’s eyes are closing from his long day.

Night shoots are a little easier on them. He gets home right at the time tiger should be waking up, so he crawls back into bed with her. On night shoots, tiger starts some very specific negotiations immediately when her Big Dude pulls her back into his chest. If she showers but spritzes her hair with dry shampoo instead of washing it, she can get snuggles for another 7 minutes. If she forgoes a full make up routine and just keeps it basic, she can maybe squeeze out another 12 minutes of snuggles. If she shows up half an hour late to work but stops and gets donuts on the way, then she can stay in bed for another 6 minutes and fill her car up with gas too on the detour to the donut shop.

Anything and everything gets sacrificed the minute he crawls in behind her and wraps those strong arms around her.

And night shoots are kind of glorious because when he gets back in the morning, he can actually spend some time with her before he goes to sleep. He’ll make her coffee. Maybe she’ll make an effort to sit down and eat breakfast, and he’ll be eating dinner at 8AM (tiger always leaves him a plate in the fridge, from the night before). Maybe they’ll even shower together, and tiger will get a little pre-work lovin’. He gets her lunch ready, kisses her goodbye, and then she goes to work and he goes to bed. It’s kind of cute, right? Because then tiger will get home from work and she’ll wake Bill up, and it’ll be time for him to have breakfast and for her to cook dinner. He has coffee and orange juice, she has wine. They get some quality snuggle time in too, before he leaves for work. Nights are no doubt hard for her though, having to sleep without that furnace beside her. The bed just feels too big and too empty without him in it.

These tiny routines, just these small things that they do for each other just to make the other happy...nani, I die. Every time.

[plaidbooks]

I am such a sucker for angry Nick and just straight up angst! May I request something angst, Nick and you having a fight cuz he saw you out at lunch with your ex & accuse you of cheating and you call him possessive and insecure! Lol all angst please!

Pushing People Away

A/N: Heya Anon! If Nick has a flaw, it’s his possessive anger, for sure. Boy needs to learn how to trust people, I swear. This is angst with no happy ending, hope you enjoy <3

Tags: implied smut, mentions of cheating

Words: 1203

Taglist: @the-baby-bookworm @beccabarba @thatesqcrush @itsjustmyfantasyroom @stardust-fray @permanentlydizzy @infiniteoddball @ben-c-group-therapy @glowingmess @whimsicallymad

The last two weeks had been long, hard; Nick was absorbed in a few different cases, coming home at outrageous times and leaving before you rolled out of bed. You were missing him dearly, but you knew that this could happen when you started dating him. It was only recently that he had asked you to move in with him—he had a house while you had an apartment—and while you had agreed, you still had a lease you were stuck in. Normally, you stayed at Nick’s place, waking up in his embrace, but because of his crazy schedule, you were staying at your own place more and more, only sleeping in his bed when he asked you to, when he needed you to. Like last night, when he passionately made love to you for half the night before passing out, only to leave early in the morning, leaving you in a big, empty bed.

Sighing, you rolled out of bed, your body the best kind of sore, little bruises on your hips and shoulders from Nick. You smiled at the marks, remembering how he had praised your body with his, his mouth and hands exploring every inch of you like it was your first time together.

After showering and dressing, you looked in the fridge, seeing how sparce it was. Nick had a grocery list on the door that was ever-expanding. After texting him, asking if it was up-to-date, and adding some extra items to it, you pulled it off, heading out the door.

You pushed the shopping cart, grabbing everything on the list you had in your hand, when someone playfully hit your cart with theirs. Looking up, you were shocked to see your ex, Daniel.

“Hey, [Y/N]. Long time, no see. How’ve you been?” he asked, smiling. You and Daniel had dated for three years in college before he took a job in Montana. You were unwilling to move with him, so you split. Though, you were still friends, still talked online.

“Daniel! I didn’t know you were back in town! I’m-I’m doing well, how’re you?” you replied.

“Ah, I’m in New York for a conference; only here for the week…. Would you like to grab lunch? Catch up?”

You thought about it; Nick was the jealous type, and he did know who Daniel was. But you also knew Daniel was engaged. Plus, you’d never cheat on Nick…and besides, he couldn’t control who you went to lunch with. “I’d love to. Let me drop all this off at home, first. Meet at 1?”

After setting a time and place, you finished shopping, rushing to Nick’s house to put everything away, and then head to your lunch with Daniel.

***

Nick was so excited to surprise you. He took a half-day; he had been spending wayyy too much time at work, and he wanted to spend more time with you. Especially after he reminded himself last night about how much he loved your body writhing underneath his touch.

He was giddy as he drove home, thinking about all the ways he’d worship you…. That was, until he was at a red light. He glanced over at a small restaurant and froze when he saw you, talking, laughing with…your ex? So, how long has that been going on?

The red of the streetlight lit up Nick’s face as he gripped the steering wheel, his jaw set. He debated confronting you now, making a scene, but then the light turned green, and the people behind him honked impatiently. Still seeing red, Nick hit the gas, trying to hurry out of there, get home. He didn’t notice that during the commotion, you had looked over and saw him peel away.

***

You were in deep shit, you knew. Half of you felt horrible, guilty for being caught with your ex, the screech of Nick’s tires as he sped away still fresh in your mind. But the other half of you was indignant; why couldn’t you meet up with old friends? It wasn’t like you were cheating on Nick. And besides, he had women friends. Though, you did have a bunch of male friends that he was fine with—it was just because Daniel was your ex.

Pulling up to Nick’s house, you took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the inevitable fight that was about to take place. You loved Nick with all your heart; you just kept repeating that over and over again as you entered the house. Nick was sitting in his armchair, beer in hand, tie off and shirt unbuttoned, revealing his undershirt. He didn’t even look at you as you closed the door behind you.

“We need to talk,” you said, coming to stand in front of him. Nick stared right through you as if you weren’t there, sipping at his beer. “Really Nick? Gonna pretend I’m not here? Fine; I’ll talk, and you can listen. Yes, I was having lunch with Daniel; we were catching up and—”

“How long have you been sleeping with him behind my back?” Nick asked, trying to keep his voice disinterested. But you could hear the anger boiling underneath.

You puffed yourself up defensively. “I am not sleeping with—”

Nick was on his feet in one fluid motion, standing so close, you could smell the beer on his breath. “Yeah, you gonna lie to me now?” He huffed out a humorless chuckle. “Look, I know I’ve been busy at work, but you didn’t need to go crawling back to him—”

“Oh my god Nick! Are you so fucking insecure that you think I’m sleeping around?” you yelled at him. “I’m allowed to have friends, Nick! Don’t be so possessive—”

“I’m insecure? That’s funny, coming from someone who refused to be seen shirtless with the lights on the first time we did it—”

“So, you’re going to throw that in my face?” you screamed, embarrassment and rage making your cheeks burn. “Look, if that’s how you’re going to be, then I—I don’t know if I can do this with you, Nick.” You pushed past him, heading towards the bedroom. Reaching into the closet, you pulled out your suitcase.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Nick asked, voice dangerously low. He was watching you, leaning against the doorjamb with his arms crossed.

“It means I’m going back to my place for a bit…work things out on my own…. Because right now, I don’t know if I can be with someone who polices who I can and cannot spend my free time with.” Having packed your essentials, you flipped the suitcase closed, zipping it. You looked Nick full in the face—he was still pissed, but underneath that was a profound sadness. You fought the urge to cry; there would be plenty of time for that later, away from him.

In a soft voice, you said, “I would never even dream of cheating on you, Nick Amaro…. You need to figure out this jealousy thing you got going on before you end up pushing away everyone who loves you.” And then moved past him. He let you go, his eyes closing in defeat as his front door slammed behind him.

[sp00kworm]

A Figure by the Lake

Pairing: Jason Voorhees x Female Reader

Warnings: General Slasher Warnings, Stalking, Violence.

A/N: This was an exchange piece with the fabulous @of-devils-and-drawings​ who deserves all the love in the world. I present, the softest of Camp Blood Killer, Mister swamp water man, for your entertainment, in six thousand words. I based his looks off of Jason Lives so take that as inspiration!

---

---

Camp Crystal Lake. Now, it was a refurbished, new living area for holiday makers once again. The small town fifteen miles away had seen enough of the bloodshed to last years, but none of them dared go near for fear of the death curse lingering around the place. The revenge of the Voorhees family. Pamela and Jason. All swore blind the legend was real. Jason Voorhees had lived in the woods for twenty years without his own mother’s knowledge before seeing her slaughtered and extracting his revenge on any who dared to set foot on his territory. The man who filled your car hummed, chewing a toothpick as he eyed up the luggage in the back of the car.

“Where you headin’ missy?” He asked as he replaced the cap on the fuel tank and walked back to your window, wrapped tightly in a thick, sheepskin coat and a heavy scarf. He replaced his gloves and shuddered in the snowy cold as you smiled pleasantly, stroking your Pitbull with gentle movements of your hand. Bronson barked cheerfully from the seat next to you as the man peered into your window.

You were ready for the horror-stricken face as you opened your mouth, “Crystal Lake.” You uttered, “My family has an old cabin up on the outskirts of the place. They’re developing the land. Letting people buy holiday homes.” You continued, watching the local’s face turn dark.

“Do you know what happened up there?” He asked as he sparked up a cigarette, blowing smoke up into the air. You knew for sure it could blow up the gas he was stood next to, but the man didn’t seem to care.

 You knew what happened. The 1980s slaughters were known the world round. A woman and her love for her son, and her son who only sought blood-soaked revenge. You looked at the date in your car. Friday the 13th. You had to smile. Jason’s birthday was the 13th of June. A Friday. It was somewhat ironic.

You shrugged your shoulders at the man, “I know. The killings. I’ve heard the stories in the dinner. I had lunch before stopping here for some gas.”

He shook his head, “Slaughter you mean. There’s been enough killing around here. People stay away. Ain’t no good to come from poking a phantom’s nest. You be careful, ya here? Jason ain’t dead and gone, and he won’t be for a long time.” He slapped the top of your car, “That’ll be thirty bucks for the gas.”

You handed him the money and rolled away from the small gas station, trundling up the new road which the developers had put in for the town. It was a smooth journey until you met the old roads. It was about fifteen more minutes of slow driving through into the old, run down roads that led to the cabins. It was slow going through the mud, and you thanked the gods above when you finally made it to the cabin and parked, just as the snow began to slowly drift from the sky. You thanked the gods again that you had brought enough groceries for the stay. Two weeks in the peace and quiet would be nice. You pulled on your coat and got out of the car, sighing as you looked at the sheer amount of luggage you had to move from the car into the house.

 The noise of a car had drawn him from where he was washing in the streams. The icy cold water still dripped from his hands as he watched from the treeline. The cabins were being worked on, he knew that, but the construction workers were gone for the winter, and Jason was left alone once again. No one had ever shown up in the winter. He watched you shiver and unload the car, making trips back and forth with the load of things you needed. Jason watched you mess around with a large looking dog for a while before he took his shirt and coat from the tree and headed back towards his own home to make his plans. Jason thudded through the undergrowth, exhaling air that turned into mist through the holes of his mask, as he ducked through the trees and into his own, small hut. He closed the old door and peered around before heading towards the rickety chimney he had built. Jason lit a fire with the dry logs he had piled up the wall. It was silent as he lit the fire, the flames taking to the logs quickly from the kindling.

 The phantom watched it burn and pushed his cold hands closer to the fire, feeling the heat in his undead fingers. The dead skin pulsed with warmth until he pulled away to say hello to his mother.

“Hello, my sweet boy. Did you have a good day?” Pamela asked from his stand. Jason nodded as he plucked the skull from table and gently touched the top of the bone, looking at the eye sockets as his Mother smiled back at him.

“Did you see someone, sweetheart?” She cooed, “Did you get rid of them for me? You’re such a good boy, Jason.” Pamela’s blue eyes were soft as Jason looked away from her. He placed her down as he shook his head.

“Did she get away?” She asked softly, “Oh that’s alright my boy.” Jason shook his head ‘no’ again, “What’s wrong then?” She looked at him again and smiled, “Watch her. Winter visitors are such a pleasure to have.” She cooed as Jason touched the moth-eaten jumper and carefully turned her towards the fire, “Thank you, sweetie.” She cooed as Jason settled down next to the fire. He pulled out a pine tree branch and opened his box, intending to put it into the scrapbook he had managed to snatch from one of the visitors a long time ago.

 It took hours to get all the shopping and your luggage away, and even then, it took you a while to get a fire going. The cabin was new, fitted with central heating, but you looked for the logs the company had left and eventually curled up in front of the fire, Bronson by your feet, soaking up the heat from the flames. You hadn’t cooked. It was too late, so you settled for one of the ready meals as you soaked up the heat, wiggling your feet by the fire as you looked at a book open on the side of the couch. The snow was getting worse outside, blowing a gale at the windows. You hoped the power would stay on. They’d installed on-site generators in case of a power failure, but you found yourself enjoying the dark, the fire and a small lamp illuminating your book as you spooned poorly made lasagne into your mouth.

“Well, Bronson, it looks like we’ll be getting a lot of work done while we’re out here.” You hummed as you leaned over to pet his head, stroking the blue coloured fur with a smile, “Though we might not if the power drops out.” Bronson sighed and settled back down to sleep as you got up to throw away the rubbish from your dinner. As you washed the dishes with a sponge, you looked out of the window at the snow. It was slowing down. You smiled as the snow caused the automatic porch light to come on again, and you squinted into the light, looking for any sign of life. You blinked and looked harder into the snow as a shadowed figure appeared at the end of the garden, stalking along the fence. You blinked again and the black shadow was gone.

“It might be a bit of a weird holiday this one, Bronson.” Your dog only grumbled from where he had climbed onto the sofa, laid on his back, soaking in the heat from the fire.

 The next day was just as cold, but the snow had stopped falling. There was a decent covering on the ground, and you opened the door with a smile as you looked at the drifts. Winter was done properly up here by the lakes. You turned to see Bronson in the door, his large mouth open as he waited for the signal to be allowed out. With a whistle, you tugged him back inside to put his jacket and harness on before tapping his butt and watching him sprint into the drifts.

“Bronson!” You laughed as you walked into the snow, wrapped tightly in a heavy coat, scarf, gloves and hat. It was below zero. You laughed at your dog as he snorted and buried his face into another snowdrift. He barked and followed you as you trudged through the snow, towards the treeline. The Pitbull on your heels snorted and barked as you walked into the woods, your hands in your pockets, clutching his lead and the bags you had brought with you just in case.

 Jason watched from the trees as you disappeared into his woods. He hefted the axe over his shoulder and followed, the logs he had come to collect hefted on top of his shoulder. Lumbering behind, he watched from around the trees as you ventured further and further from your own cabin, and closer and closer to his own home, on the outskirts of the lake, hidden behind broken trees and rotting areas of swampy water. It was frozen still this time of year. He followed quietly, keeping his smell away from your giant dog as he watched you climb over the rotting trees and roots that blocked the pathway to his home. Jason stood still, his breath stopping all together as his eyes danced across the surroundings.

 You frowned at the heavy tree in your way and whistled softly as you climbed over the heavy log and then watched Bronson bound over the top of it, his ears flopping as he panted and looked around the snow. You both scrambled over a set of upturned roots before peering into the white surroundings. Bronson pushed his nose into the snow and snuffled around your feet as you looked between the trees. A shack was sat between another upturned giant tree and a set of rotting stumps. The wood was old and rotting in most places. You approached the old panels slowly, Bronson snuffling alongside you as you both approached. It was a very old cabin, homemade from heavy timber. The roof needed replacing, small parts of it having caved in with the rot and winter snow, but it looked lived in. With a frown, you approached the front door. It was as old as the rest of the place, the hinges rusted and the lock a simple deadbolt. It was undone. You swallowed and swung the door open. Bronson peered inside as well, quiet, his ears pressed flat to his skull. You both were quiet as you looked at the smouldering fire and the tins littering around. They were stacked in the corner on top of a very old dresser. A few bones were stacked too. A knife was sat next to the bones and what looked to be a small carving project. Carefully you peered at the small figurine being shaped from the deer bone. It was a beaver. You looked around again at everything.

 A rocking chair swayed with a squeak by the fire, rocking back and forth as the cold wind rushed inside. Everything was rotting. You entered a small bedroom, Bronson protective on your heels as you opened the door. It swung open and revealed a dry room. A table was sat in the corner with a makeshift bed in the other, piled with old shirts, blankets, and pillows. You looked at the table and gasped. A faded photo sat on the top, next to a moth-eaten jumper. You approached and looked at the skull sat next to it. Pieces of dried skin littered the tabletop as well, curling black lumps that looked putrid. The photo was of a young woman and her boy. The blond woman grinned back at you. Pamela Voorhees. You swallowed and tugged Bronson by his collar.

“Come on, Bronson. We don’t belong here.” You ushered him out and looked around the place one last time before you closed the door and rushed through the snow once more. Bronson whined as you both hopped back over the log, trudging back through the snow, “I think we have a certain resident to appease, boy.” Following your own tracks, you were unaware of the killer watching you disappear back into the snow.

 Jason watched you leave with uncertainty boiling in his stomach. You hadn’t done anything to his home. He threw the logs down by the fire and turned to his Mother.

“Maybe she’s a good girl, Jason? Watch her for me sweetie.” She cooed. Jason nodded sombrely and made sure to lock the door as he left his home, covered in a heavy jacket and his work gloves, a machete sheathed on his hip.

 Cooking for one was difficult, and soon you realised you would have more than enough for you and someone else. Bronson was busy chowing down his own food in the corner, and you sighed softly as you plated the leftovers onto another hot plate. You looked out into the cold, still night and wondered if this would be enough to appease the giant killer that might be lurking. It was stupid. He was a ghost story. But you knew to believe in the warnings of spirits. Carefully, you found a plate cover and covered the meal before opening the front door and placing it, shielded from the cold by the entryway box for tools. It wouldn’t remain warm forever, but if he was watching, you knew he’d be curious enough to investigate, spirit or undead monster. You placed the meal down and closed the door, locking it in a small fit of paranoia as you headed back to finish cleaning up before bed. Bronson slumped down by the fire as you finished putting the pots away and headed upstairs for a shower. You sighed at the white canvas you set up by the window, still with no ideas about what to put on it. Hopefully, hot water would ease your nerves.

 The door opened with creak and Jason peered at the light spilling from the house, breathing slowly, evenly, in the trees. You peered out with a plate in your hands, covered to keep it warm, before you tucked it against the toolbox and closed the door once more. Curious. Jason waited. He watched as you moved upstairs, curiously, following you around the house, watching from the bottom floor as you pulled the jumper over your head. His eyes went wide as you pulled off your tank top underneath, revealing the bra you had on. Set, he couldn’t pull away his gaze as he watched skin move and ripple, tilting his head as he moved to catch sight of your backside as well. Naughty. He chastised himself as he turned, moving back to the front of the house to investigate the plate you had put on the porch. His mask turned his breath into steam as Jason stood over the plate. He knelt and picked up the plate in one gloved hand. He opened the top and looked at the hot food on the plate. It looked like the meals his Mother once made. Jason felt conflict churn his guts. Mashed potato. He adored mashed potato as a child. Jason looked at the door in front of him. He glanced at the blade at his hip and the knife by his thigh. He could open the door himself, crash through the wood and slaughter you. Instead, he stole the food away, scaring as Bronson yawned inside, rushing back into the trees with thoughts he shouldn’t have churning in his head.

 “Jason. Have you ended her?” Pamela asked from her seat in the rocking chair. Jason looked at the head and shook his head as he sat by the fire, grinding the details into the beaver’s face with his small skinning knife, “Why not, darling?”

Jason looked at his feet, sheepishly, and pulled out the meal from behind him. He held it up to his mother’s head.

“Oh, my darling boy, she’s a good girl, isn’t she?” Pamela cooed. Jason felt phantom hands stroke his head before he drew out the spoon, he had whittled it some time ago. He could eat but being undead meant it wasn’t necessary. Still, he pushed the mask up enough to reveal his mouth and cautiously ate a spoonful of the cooling potatoes. He grunted, the memory of the food he used to eat as a child making his chest ache painfully.

Pamela smiled from her place in the chair, “Yes, my boy, she is a good, good girl. Just like you, my perfect little boy.” He continued to eat thoughtfully, beside the fire, before realising he had finished the entire thing. The killer looked at the plate sadly before picking up his beaver again. He eyed the little creature’s eyes before setting to work on finishing the tail. Pamela hummed a song before melting into the background again. He remembered to set her head down for the night before he trundled back into the blackness, the empty plate, and the small bone carving in hand.

 The snow when you woke up was horrendous. You peered down the driveway and sighed at the layers of snow melting on your porch. It was terrible weather. You shuddered as you climbed out of the bed, immediately wrapping up in your gown before you patted Bronson, beckoning him up as you started the day. You descended the stairs with a yawn and a stretch over your head. Excitedly, you remembered the plate you had left outside of the door. The keys jingled in your hand as you unlocked the lock and slid the chain bolt free. You swung open the door and watched Bronson bound into the snow again. You watched him for a moment before giving him a tut of disapproval. As you took a step forward, your slipper met the plate. Sadly, you looked down, only to smile at the sight of the empty plate and a small token next to it. You picked up the plate and the small carving. A beaver made from bone sat perfectly in the palm of your hand, its front teeth opened wide as though it was ready to chew through a new piece of wood. You laughed at the carving as you tucked it into your pocket, shouting for Bronson back. The dog bounded back into the house and you looked at the treeline before closing the door and setting to towel drying your now wet dog.

 Jason looked on from the woods as you laughed with the dog in the lounge. He watched as you placed the small beaver on your fireplace. The killer nodded to himself before hiding away in the trees to continue to watch you in peace.

 Over the course of the first week, you made sure to leave food for the legend out on the porch. Every morning it was gone, your plate returned alongside some trinket the man saw fit to leave for you. On the seventh day, you opened the door and saw that the plate was left alongside a small pocketknife. The blade wasn’t long. It was a switch blade and you snapped the thing open to look at the pointed end. It was clean, polished with metal cleaner to be shiny. You smiled and took it inside once again, placing it on the small shelf with the other goods, on display in the window. The snow was still present. Icy but slushy under your feet. You made breakfast and showered before you ventured out into the cold, this time, turning to the right, heading towards the famous Crystal Lake edge as Bronson snorted and ran beside you. The track down to the lake wasn’t huge, a short walk in all reality, but you enjoyed it nonetheless, peering up at the trees as the crows called overhead. Bronson barked and rushed forwards with a stick, his tail wagging as you took it from him and hurled it as far as you could in front of you on the track. He followed happily and you both continued towards the water’s edge. Bronson sniffed at the water curiously before deciding the icy water wasn’t worth the time jumping in. You peered around at the huge lake.

 It was easily a mile across, you surmised, from bank to bank, and the roots of the trees had recently been cut back to give it a more open appearance. It wasn’t as overgrown as it once was, the reeds kept back at the pier and tugged out from around the sides to prevent the water from looking too murky. With a cold inhale of icy air, you wandered closer to the edge, looking at the murky water as Bronson snorted and walked around, sticking his face in every pile of mud he could find under the snow. A crow called again above you. You looked up at the tree and frowned at the bird before it squawked again and fluttered off, leaving a black feather to float down into the snow. Bronson gave the feather a sniff before he moved into the snow again, shoving his face underneath the piles. The pier was new. The rotting boards and support structure were new, the wood painted a white colour. It would probably need redoing when spring rolled around. You walked up, towards the end of the pier and looked out at the icy lake. Parts of it were frozen, thing sheets floating around and clicking into each other. You watched a duck tuck itself into the reeds on the bank as Bronson barked at the end of the pier, gaze set on the trees. Murky water slopped against the wood with a gust of icy air and you shuddered before turning back to your dog.

“I’m coming, I’m coming.” You chuckled as you turned around and carefully walked back towards the banks.

 Your foot slipped beneath your own weight. Ice, hidden by the white paint, made your grips slip. Suddenly, the water lurched towards your face, icy pain imminent. You closed your eyes and gasped, winded, as arms snapped tight around your waist and heaved you upwards, away from the icy water. Wheezing, you turned your head to look at your saviour. Icy, blue eyes stared back at you through a grubby hockey mask, and you peered down at the dead hands holding you tightly against the man most now only knew as legend.

“Jason…Voorhees…” You wheezed as you were manhandled away from the pier. Bronson barked at the creature and he bared his teeth before he jumped for his arm. Jason’s eyes flicked, and in a swift movement, he snatched the dog by the collar, holding you with one arm, the other holding the hound at arm’s length. Bronson yelped as the grip twisted into the fur on the back of his neck.

“Let him go!” You coughed weakly. Jason’s eyes flashed between you both before he dropped you and offered you your dog. He dropped Bronson on the floor, lowering him to his feet, giving you enough time to wrestle a lead from your pocket to hold him at bay. He cowered behind your legs as you looked up again at the Camp Crystal Lake Killer.

 “You’re real…” You whispered, gazing up at the giant. He was dead, clearly, the skin mottled and dark, pale in other places with rigor mortis, the blood stagnant. Yet, any wound seemed to not have left a scar. You looked at the hands and watched him twitch the fingers. Jason shifted, uncomfortable with the staring, and turned his eyes on Bronson again. The Pitbull cowered behind you.

“I’m sorry if we’re trespassing.” You whispered before finding your voice, “Did you, uh, enjoy the food I left out for you?” You asked the giant man. He paused in his staring, the hockey mask turning to the side, as though bashfully, as his massive head nodded.

He held up his hands in front of him and you watched his right hand move to his ask before dipping down with flat fingers, the palm upturned.

“You sign?” You asked with a smile, “That means ‘thank you’ right?”

Jason nodded twice with two slow movements of his head.

“Well, you’re welcome.” You smiled at him as genuinely as you could manage, “Though I don’t know if you really needed the food. You seem to be able to look after yourself.” With a small sigh, you rubbed the top of Bronson’s head, fear making your heart beat double time, “Are you going to get rid of me?” You asked quietly.

 Jason’s eyes widened a little as he listened to the fear lacing your voice. He shook his head firmly before holding his hands up again in front of his chest, fingers twitching before he signed to you slowly. His thumb pointed to his chin with his fingers curled into a first. He moved his hand forwards before holding up his other hand and pointing a finger out from his right. He connected the finger with his left hand. You frowned, confused, before watching him stick his finger into his other hand repeatedly.

“Does that mean you’re not going to kill me?” You asked gently.

Jason nodded, confirming your guess, before signing the two words again slowly for you.

“Okay, I believe you.” You smiled as Bronson peered back from behind your legs, his nose sniffing at Jason’s heavy combats. The giant recoiled from the dog, his hands clenched by his stomach before Bronson deemed him not a threat, and simply sat down, staring at Jason with soft eyes. Curiously, Jason reached to pet Bronson, his large fingers flipping the dog’s ears around as he gave him a small scratch behind them.

“He likes you.” You laughed softly before awkwardly shifting from foot to foot, “Would you like to come and eat with us?” You asked.

 Jason felt his heart catch in his chest. You asked him to come and eat with you. He was embarrassed. It was very forward. He took a step backwards, glancing at the treeline in contemplation as he wondered what sort of motive you had for inviting him to dinner. Words were empty. He knew that. Jason had been lied to again and again. He knew though, that you did intend to give him food. You left it for him every night. He wished his mama were there with him. He reached for his hip and shook his head.

“She’s a good girl, Jason.”

His mother was right. Jason nodded and looked at the snow covering the ground before stepping away from the lake and pointing back through the trees.

“Sure. I’ll lead the way.” You smiled as you tugged Bronson along at your side. Jason followed to your right in comfortable silence, observing your grins and smiles at your dog with a smile of his own, hidden behind the ruined hockey mask.

 “Is that shack in the woods yours, Jason?” You asked as you reached the edge of the trees. You looked up at the phantom as his fingers curled into a fist and he dipped it down, nodding his head at the same time. You looked over the snow drift and smiled, “It’s a nice place. You seem to be able to look after yourself.”

Jason shrugged his shoulders, his jacket rippling with the movement before he wiggled his hand and his head in a ‘sort of’ motion. He was embarrassed by the praise, though you couldn’t see his face. His blind eye twitched as he watched you trip in his periphery. With a snap of his arms again, he snatched you up from falling face first into the snow.

Winded again, you looked up at the killer as you span in his arms, “Thank you, Jason. Sorry, I’m such a clutz.” You laughed as he placed you firmly back on your feet and held out his hand towards the dog lead. Bronson was happy to bound over to the giant, and you laughed as Jason was tugged around by the dog. Bronson barked, leaping into the snow, only to be fished out a moment later by one, giant, powerful hand. Bronson looked at him with a dumb smile before Jason placed him back on his feet and let him walk in front of the two of you.

 Your cabin porch, at least, was free from snow. You slammed your feet on the wood and watched Jason do the same, shaking snow from his shoulders before he reached down and unclipped the dog lead from Bronson. The Pitbull gave one large bark and licked at the yellow workers gloves over Jason’s fingers before scratching at the door to get back inside.

“Here. You can come in if you want? It won’t take too long to make something.” You offered. You smiled up at Jason and he felt his resolve melt a little as he tentatively took a step into the house. His figure filled the doorway before he peered around, looking for a threat that might jump out at him, before he relaxed enough to carefully step into the lounge area.

“You don’t have to take your shoes off if you don’t want.” You offered as Jason looked down at his boots with concern. They were dirty and your floors were very clean. With a tilt of his head, he leaned over to undo the laces of his boots and carefully tugged them off. He even managed socks. You were amazed at how well put together the gentle giant was for an undead corpse.

“Thank you.” You smiled as you slipped the harness off Bronson and removed your own coat and shoes. Jason looked back and took his coat off as well, thumping over to the coat rack to hang his own mucky coat over a hook.

 “You can sit in the kitchen if you like?” You headed towards the small kitchen in the back and smiled as Jason followed, stepping around the rug carefully before he peered over your head, into the well-equipped kitchen, “Do you like music, Jason?” You asked.

Jason repeated the sign for ‘Yes.’ back to you and nodded his head before continuing, ‘Not too loud. Soft.’, But you didn’t seem to understand those signs.

With a nod you reached over the counter and smiled as you showed him the small manual radio. You swivelled the knobs and caught the frequency of the local radio station. It was something weird and country sounding. You showed Jason the radio, “You can twist the knob to tune into different stations. Try and find something you like.” He took the small thing from your hands and eyed it before quickly setting to work spinning the knobs, searching for something for you to listen to. As he played with the device you pulled out the things for dinner. Jason grew tired of the knobs quickly and settled on where it had been before he had messed around, the soft country playing in the background as he watched you cut vegetables and add them to the pot for a stew. His curiosity made him accidentally turn the wrong knob on the radio and the giant jumped with a grunt as the music screeched. He almost threw the thing, but before he could, you already snapped the volume back down.

“Be careful, Jason.” You chuckled before wiping your hands properly and covering the food, “Now, maybe you should teach me some of that signing? It might be handy.” He nodded and stood from the table, following you to the lounge.

 The food in front of him looked delicious.

“Oh, she is a good girl, Jason.” His Mother cooed from wherever she was, he couldn’t see her, “She’s looking after you, my dear. She could be good spouse material for my darling baby boy.”

Jason shook his head. Surely his mother didn’t think that. She had never mentioned wanting him to settle down. He curled in on himself a little. He knew he wasn’t handsome or even worthy of someone doting on him.

“Are you okay?” You asked nervously, “I thought you might like this, since you like mashed potato so much.”

Jason nodded his head and signed, ‘Thank you’ before he picked up the spoon and then remembered his mask. He looked at the gravy dripping from his spoon and placed it back down into the bowl. With a huff he pointed to his face and looked away.

Instantly you understood what he meant, “You can take it away if you would like?” You asked, chewing the inside of your cheek.

He nodded enthusiastically before placing on finger under his nose and curling it away from himself. Before you could ask him to do it again, he grabbed hold of his shoes from the door, and tied them swiftly. He shrugged the jacket on and took the bowl gratefully from the table. With a nod, he disappeared out of the front door and rushed away as fast as he could manage with the bowl of stew and potatoes.

 You found a book in your cabin later. American Sign Language 101. You looked through at the basic words and frowned at the pictures for the word ‘ugly’. Jason had called himself ugly. You rubbed at Bronson’s ears and shook your head as you looked at the fire burning in front of your feet.

 The next morning you turned from your canvas to a knock on the door. It was still early. Bronson perked up from where he was laid by the fire. Curious, you laid your brushed on your small table and headed towards the door. You opened the door and smiled.

“Jason, what are you doing here?” You asked before the bowl from last night was thrust into your hands.

‘Thank you.’ Jason signed.

“You’re welcome, big guy.” You opened the door a little, “Do you want to come in or are you busy?” You asked, revealing the paint streaked apron covering your body.

Jason shook his head and raised his hands once more, ‘Walk?’ He asked carefully.

“Sure. Bronson needs one anyway.” You left the door open with Jason stood in it as you took your apron off and whistled for Bronson. The dog trotted to the front door and greeted Jason with a lick to his gloved hands. You pulled on your shoes and coat before snatching Bronson’s lead and the book you were looking through last night. Jason pointed curiously as the big book and you held it up for him to see.

“It’s a Sign Language book. I wanted to learn a little bit more, so I can understand you better!” You smiled up at the giant as he appeared a little flustered and lost, his hands twitching by his thighs before he closed your door behind you and pointed in the direction of the lake. You followed with Bronson close on your heels.

 Your visits to the lake became a daily routine. Jason would walk you there just before lunch and you’d both return just in time for you to cook dinner. Jason was conflicted every time you asked him into your home, but he followed you in each time. His Mother was positive. She appreciated what you were doing for him, and Jason was thankful for someone who cared. He even did odd jobs around your cabin, chopping wood and leaving it for you as well as fixing a fence after Bronson chewed a slat free.

“Jason, are you okay?” You asked as you placed his food in front of him. He could see you were nervous, wondering about something. Worrying. The giant reached out and took your hand in his own. He was about to recoil, remembering the cold temperature of his flesh, yet you didn’t flinch away from the icy grip. You squeezed his fingers and looked into his eyes.

‘What’s wrong?’ He signed after letting go of your hand.

“I’m just…” You sighed as you sat down, “It’s what you said when you first took that dinner.” You looked the phantom in the eyes, “That you were ugly.” You made the sign with your finger and scowled, “But I…All I’ve seen is a lonely man who has done nothing but help me…and be sweet.”

Jason looked away, peering into the food you had served him before he turned in his seat and repeated the sign back to you.

‘Ugly.’ He snapped his fingers together with a sigh and you shook your head at him.

 “You’re not…” You chuckled, “Well I’ve never actually seen your face…” You confessed. The killer shook his head resolutely, his hands clutching at the strap of his mask.

‘Ugly.’ He signed again as he leaned back, protective of the hockey mask covering his face. With a smile, you nodded at him and eased back over your own food.

“I understand. You’re not ready to show me…” You stood up slowly and held your hands away from him, “But, when you are ready, just know that I’ll accept it, no matter what.” You promised before you leaned forwards, and pressed a soft, single kiss to his forehead. The mask was as cold as his skin, and you leaned away, dazzling the phantom with your smile.

Jason’s hands shot out, catching you by the wrists before he gently eased them up towards his face, his blue eyes gazing at you in awe as he let you brush the strap on the back of his head. Firmly, he held you in front of him before he raised his hands and fumbled.

‘I love you’ He signed, ‘Protect you.’ He promised before he took hold of your waist again and tugged you into his lap, wrapping his giant arms around your body before he pressed the cool mask to your face.

 “Jason…I’m not here forever…” You whispered against his cold face, “I have to go home.”

His arms tightened as fear pierced his gut, ‘Stay?’ He signed with sad eyes, ‘Come back?’

You gave him a watery smile before nodding, “I…I can.” You thought on the life you had, back in the heat, the warmth of a residential house. Small, cramped, surrounded by other people. Your job wasn’t even most of your income. Your art could flourish. You could be with this loveable, giant phantom. No one would ever know. You took a deep breath and stood up, pressing another kiss to Jason’s head, “I’ll find a way. I have enough money to stay another few weeks anyway.” You grinned, “We can figure it out from there…” You took a giant hand and pressed a kiss to the cold flesh, “I think I love you too.” Jason made a soft noise as he grappled you back into his arms.

 A Figure by the Lake, you thought, as you worked on the canvas the next day, looking at Jason as he walked back towards the water.

[barrysjumpsuit]

the dark side - jj maybank x shoupe’s daughter, ch. 1

w/c: 1.9k

summary:  catherine shoupe has the perfect life. when she gets hired by heyward to run groceries, she has a new coworker - jj maybank. as the deputy’s daughter, she can’t help but hate him. but when jj decides to bring her to the dark side and woo her over, cat not only has to hide her activities from her father, but also hide who she really is.

warnings: none for this chapter

a/n: i’m super excited for this! making it up as i go.... posting may be slightly delayed/irregular since i’m busy with working and moving but who knows i’ll probably waste my time and work on this more than i should

---

Cat’s feet and back ached, and the sun felt good on her cool skin as she stepped out of the overly air-conditioned grocery store she had been in since they opened that morning. She sat down on a bench in a shaded area between the store and a coffee shop, resting and enjoying her fifteen minute break.

The same thing. Every day, five days a week. Cat would be the opener for the grocery store, getting there at four in the morning and working until ten. It was smaller, a hippie fresh market type of place with fresh produce and organic products. Very Kook-y. It drew tourists and locals alike, as well as a bunch of people her age, working for grocery delivery services.

Morning shifts in the summer were nice because they drew more of the local crowd. The working class, like her, though still kooks. Moms grabbing their groceries after dropping their kids off at school, working professionals stopping by for premade sandwiches or donuts for their coworkers. That particular morning, her dad had stopped by for his own lunch and spent entirely too long chatting with her.

Cat enjoyed seeing people, asking them about plans for their days. She often suggested the best surfing spots and restaurants to the non-locals, while striking up easy conversations with the regulars that frequented the market in the mornings. After work she often took her brother out to the beach. It was her mission this summer to teach him how to surf. In the evenings, if her dad wasn’t working, she would help her mom cook dinner and they would have a big family meal. It was repetitive, but perfect and full of things and people she loved.

After her fifteen minute break was up, she went back inside, but her manager pulled her aside before she returned to her checking lane.

“Hey, Catherine, come see me in my office?” Mrs. Lee’s voice rang out. 

There was a brief nervousness that made Cat’s stomach roll over, but it quickly vanished once she saw the smile on the store owner’s face. “So you know Heyward, right?”

“Of course,” she answered, smiling at the thought. She knew the man and his son well - they were always in and out, buying groceries for their customers. “He’s awesome. What about him?”

“He and I are partners now,” she continued, obviously excited about the development. “He’s looking to hire some new people to deliver groceries. I know you love being out on the water and talking to people, so I figured I’d ask to see if you were interested. It’ll come with a bump in your pay, too.”

“Yes!” she said, perhaps a little too eagerly. “I’m definitely interested. Does he want an interview?”

Mrs. Lee laughed. “He said if you were interested, you’re on board automatically. He knows you’re a good worker. I’ll call him and let him know and get back at you, okay?”

“Sounds good! Thanks, Mrs. Lee,” Cat said, smiling back at her before leaving her office.

Going back to her checking lane was almost bittersweet, knowing that lane three had been hers for almost two years. As soon as she flipped her light back on, a local came through, eagerly starting up a conversation and letting Cat know how his son was doing in the summer little league baseball series.

After she got off, she cranked the AC on in her car and began the drive home. The place was flooded with tourists, the summer season officially in full swing. She lived right off the main strip, which was fun and convenient, but could get annoying when anyone and everyone was there. 

“Hey Cat!” her brother greeted her as she got home. He was sitting on the couch, watching TV.

“Hey Tyler! Want to go out for ice cream later?” she asked, and he nodded excitedly. “I’ll make us some lunch then we can go after that.”

“Okay!” she heard him respond as she jogged up the carpeted steps. She walked past her parent’s bedroom and then into hers, kicking off her shoes and changing into flowy shorts and a basic tee before going back downstairs to make lunch.

The rest of the day was pleasant and uneventful. After they ate lunch, she took Tyler to the ice cream place two blocks away. He got birthday cake while she got peppermint, enjoying the cool sensation on the hot day. They walked on the beach, her brother talking nonstop about the video game he was playing, while Cat smiled and faked listening.

She was really listening to the sound of the waves lapping at the store, and the voices of those who lounged on the beach. Some were playing in the ocean, some were playing games in the soft sand. 

Her father was off work at six, so once they returned home, it wasn’t long until her mother got off work and they started prepping dinner. Cat’s mom was laid back, always smiling, which she loved. She left her work at the office, unlike her father.

Being the daughter of a sheriff’s deputy was odd. Cat didn’t mind it. There were rules in place, of course, but she hadn’t any urge to break them. There were people from her school out doing drugs and drinking most nights of the week, but Cat had never touched any of that. She had a curfew, but she didn’t really mind it.

Her dad got home right before dinner was ready. He pulled Cat towards him, kissing the top of her head before kissing her mom on the lips. “How are my ladies this evening?” he asked, grinning. A patch on his uniform read Shoupe in bold letters, and he was still fully clad in his uniform.

“Pretty good,” Cat answered, stirring the sauce that was simmering on the stove. 

They made light conversation until her dad went to change out of his work clothes while Cat and her mom set the table and plated up dinner.

“How was work, Cat?” her dad asked when they were sat down and eating.

“It was good. The usual. But, I got a new job!”

“Oh?” her mom asked, taking a sip of wine and raising her eyebrows. 

“Heyward and Mrs. Lee are working together now, and Heyward needs runners. So he wants me. I get a pay bump too.”

Cat was smiling, but it dropped when she saw her dad’s face. Her mom noticed too, casting him a glare, and he spoke. “That’s great, honey. But be careful, okay?”

She couldn’t help but roll her eyes. Her father hated her going near the Cut. Not that she had much reason or urge to, but she knew it could be rough down there. He often worked down there, on the south side of the island, and constantly told stories about shoplifting Pogues and underage drinking. “Dad, it’s Heyward’s. It’s basically Figure Eight.”

“I know, I’m just saying,” he said, raising his hands in surrender.

“Can you take me on the delivery boat sometime?” Tyler asked, luckily rerouting the conversation.

The issue was luckily dropped, but Cat still felt bad. She didn’t know why - she was seizing the opportunity, something her parents had always encouraged. Cat had been working ever since she was old enough. Her father always told her, a good work ethic is the most important thing you can have. They were urging her to save up for college, and now she was essentially being promoted.

Mrs. Lee had texted her during dinner. Heyward wants you to start tomorrow! Meet him at 9, wear whatever you want.

She responded to the text before settling down in bed with a book. At ten, before she went to bed, her father stepped into her room after knocking softly on her door.

“Hey, dad,” she said, and he walked over to sit on her bed. Cat pulled her feet up to give him some room and put her book down on her nightstand.

“I’m happy for you, Cat,” he said, smiling at her. “Just be careful, okay? With all the boat traffic now and going everywhere… Heyward’s a good guy. I trust him.”

“I will, dad. You know me. I grew up on the water.”

He smiled again. “Yeah, you did. Have fun tomorrow, okay? Good night.”

“G’night, dad,” she said as her father stood and left the room.

---

Cat woke up early, not used to getting to sleep in since she usually was at the grocery store before dawn. Her parents had already left for work, leaving Tyler in front of the TV as normal. She made a smoothie before changing into shorts and a t-shirt. 

“Bye, Ty!” she called as she left the house at 8:30, closing the back door behind her before heading to her car.

It was about a 20 minute drive to Heyward’s from her house. When she got there, she quickly located him on the dock, filling a gas can. As she stepped onto the dock, he gave her a wave, and quickly hurried over.

Heyward gave her an impromptu ‘training’. How to read the orders, how to use the boat’s navigation. It was simple, and she knew most of the people who had put in orders for that day. “Right now I have two people who shop and two of you who run and deliver together, each day,” he was explaining. “Here’s your work shirt, I don’t give a damn what pants you wear as long as your ass isn’t hangin’ out.”

He thrust three t-shirts of different colors towards her, each with the Heyward’s logo printed on it before taking her into the office to discuss her pay and scheduling. Since she was already in the system, it went by quickly, and she ran her printed schedule to her car and slipped into her new work shirt before returning to the dock. 

“There’s those sons of bitches getting back now,” he said, waving at two people who stood on a white boat pulling up to dock. “Catherine, go ahead and start carrying over the groceries in the cooler over there, time for your first run.”

She went inside the small building and started pulling bags out of the ice, full of produce and goods from her store. She noticed Heyward’s son, Pope, standing on the boat, and he held out his hands to take the bags from her to load.

“You working here now?” he asked, and she nodded. Cat had always liked Pope; they went to the same school until high school. He was quiet and witty, which she appreciated, and they had even sat together at lunch one year.

As soon as she finished handing Pope the groceries, she took his outstretched hand and climbed onto the boat.

“Hey Catherine!” she heard Heyward call. She turned to see him, grinning at her. “These are your new coworkers. Have fun.”

Pope grinned at her, but Heyward said coworkers. Plural.

A blond boy came into her line of sight, smirking. Cat’s heart sank as she recognized who it was, and she considered getting off the boat, but couldn’t bring herself to move or speak. It was someone she hadn’t seen in quite a while, and she was okay with that.

JJ was the first to speak up, his voice smooth and cocky. “Hey, kitty Cat, long time, no see.”

---

taglist:  @letsgofullkook @stargazingstarkey @sortagaysortahigh @jjsmentalpolaroids @ims0golden @jjmaybcnks​ @shawnssongs​ @queenk00k @broken-jj​

[littledraga]

A Little Luck and a Little Smile

@amuseoffirebane Sorry it wasn’t as much as a surprise as I had hoped! I really hope you like it! 

At least it wasn’t hot out. Not that the heat bothered Taps much, but he would worry about Riker. That, and he’d probably complain the whole walk back. Not that Taps would say anything. But it was nice, just getting to walk peacefully with him while they made their way back to the apartment with groceries.

It saved on gas and it gave them some time to just be together, with all the work Riker had been doing. Taps didn’t mind, really. It was fine that Riker was spending most of his waking hours working between a couple shops in the city. One was even talking about hiring him on properly. It was the most money they’d made in a while, and the more he worked the less time he had to drink. But he wouldn’t say anything. He would just be happy things were working out so well.

Walking down the sidewalk Taps noticed a wallet stuffed between a gutter and a building. “Hey, looks like someone lost their wallet.” Without a thought, he knelt down and scooped it up to look it over. It was old, or maybe just that weather-worn. The leather was blotchy and heavily frayed in the corners. Its seams were held together with little more than force of will.

Riker glanced over and smirked. “Well lookie there,” he laughed. “Open it up, maybe there’s some cash in there still!”

“Riker! This belongs to someone, we should use the address to return it,” scolded Taps as he flipped the wallet open to do just that. Only, there was no ID. There weren’t any cards inside at all. Not even a scrap, a note, nothing with a name. Maybe it was just a bit of litter?

Hesitant, Taps open the main pocket of the wallet, expecting the same as the rest. Instead, it was full. There was a wad of cash neatly stuffed inside. That didn’t seem right.

Looking over Riker whistled. “How about that! How much do ya think it is?” He tried to count and guess, but Taps quickly snapped the wallet closed and looked over at him.

“Riker! We can’t, it’s not ours. We have to turn this in.” Someone had to be looking for it, had to be.

With a sigh, Riker slumped his shoulders and gave in. “Fine fine. But can we stop back at the apartment first?” He lifted the bags up a little. “They’re starting to get a little heavy.”

“Ah, right!” Laughing a little Taps slipped the wallet into his back pocket and made his way back to their little apartment with his boyfriend. The whole way he could feel the wallet like a weight burning in his pocket.

While they were packing everything away into the fridge and cupboards Riker snagged the wallet from Taps’ back pocket.

“Riker, it’s not ours!”

Pulling out the money he quickly thumbed through it to count and his eyes went wide. “Taps. This is almost three hundred dollars.”

“Three hundred of someone else’s money. We need to turn it in to the police.” Shutting the cupboard as he spoke he gave Riker a stern look. It was the right thing to do. It wasn’t theirs to keep.

Ricker put the money back in the wallet and gently wagged it at Taps. Who quickly snatched it back and shoved it in his pocket again. Neither of them were going to back down yet.

“So it’ll sit in a box until one of them decides to buy lunch with it?”

“It’s the right thing to do and you know it.”

“Whoever owned this probably ain’t gonna be looking at the station without an ID in it. Not like there’s a way to prove it’s theirs.”

“They might. Besides after a month, we’d get it if they didn’t.” Taps leaned against the counter while he watched Riker roll his eyes.

“If it’s not ‘lost’,” he scoffed, using air quotes. “They probably won’t even record it, just pocket the money and toss the wallet.”

“And we’re not out anything either way,” reminded Tap with a slight tilt of the mouth.

“But we could be a little better off.” Riker smiled when Taps crossed his arms over his chest. “Whoever dropped this ain’t any worse off than before we found it.”

If he could, Taps would have frowned. His face showed it plenty as he sighed and tilted his head. Lifting his shoulders he thought about that. Riker had a point. A good one.

Three hundred could go pretty fair for them. It could help make sure they stayed up on bills. Riker could eat better instead of mostly ramen and rice. It would make a nice cushion on his repairs, they might not have to put it off next time. Or when Riker got too drunk to stop.

It might not have been a lot of money in the grand scheme of things, but it could make a difference for them.

Taps’ shoulders slumped and he looked back at Riker who was grinning like the Cheshire Cat. Sighing, he pressed his face into his hand. “Alright, alright. You win, but you have to promise to spend it smartly.”

That only made Riker grin more, not that Taps was sure that was possible. “Already know the first thing to do with it. Go put your shoes back on.”

“Wait, right now?” Taps rushed to at least put the cold things away, not that there was much.

“Yeah, before you change your mind,” he teased, already throwing his on, groceries forgotten. “Let’s get to the van.” Riker grabbed Taps’ arm and dragged him out of the apartment, stumbling and trying to get his shoes on.

“Where are we going, anyway?” Taps finally asked as they got down to where the van was parked. Luckily, no one had noticed they were illegally parked. Or at least no one had turned them in for it, yet.

“The mall.”

Taps stood up straight and froze. “What?” He just misheard him, right? “Why do you want to go to the mall?”

With a shrug, Riker put a hand in his pocket while the other reached out expectantly. “To get you some new clothes.”

That made Taps fluster and he hid his face before he handed off the wallet with his other hand. He looked over his fingers when he felt Riker take the money. “No way! The mall is way too expensive for us. Besides, between the two of us, shouldn’t you be getting new clothes first?” He waved his hand to gesture to the grease stains over his attire.

Looking over his stained clothes Riker just shrugged. “Grease is a part of my look.” He popped his collar and gave Taps the finger guns. When Taps laughed he sighed with a goofy grin on his face.

“At least let’s go to a second-hand shop or something. They’re cheaper. We don’t need to waste so much money there,” tried Taps. He’d feel awful if most of that was spent on him. They should be saving it!

“New clothes will last longer. Besides, we can find you some nice clothes, not just whatever fits.” Stuffing the money into his own wallet Riker tossed the worn-out one into a trash bin, or at least, at one, before he walked around the vehicle to get in.

Hovering by the passenger door Taps hesitated. Was this really okay? As much as the idea of shopping for new clothes was exciting, he knew there were better uses for that money. He should tell Riker no. He should put his foot down and tell him they were going to save that money for a rainy day!

While Taps was gearing up to tell him off, Riker leaned over and popped open the door. “Come on, before you run out of air,” he teased with a cheeky grin.

“Okay, rude,” huffed Taps. All the same, he hoped in the car and settled in as Riker drove off.

The ride was quiet a while, just listening to the radio and the bump of the road.

After a while, it started to bother Taps again. “Is it really okay?” He asked, turning to look at Riker while he turned onto a busy road.

“Sure it is. We covered this, whoever owned the wallet wouldn’t get their money back anyway.” Riker kept his eyes on the road, but gently tilted his head toward Taps. “This way we know something good comes out of it, right?” He grinned.

“But aren’t there better things? We could get ahead. Or save up.”

At a red light, Riker looked over properly and gave Taps a soft warm smile. “I can’t think of a better way to spend a lucky find than on making you happy.” That smile widened when he saw Taps get embarrassed again. Too bad some asshole honked to tell him about the green light before Taps could scold him. Flipping them off he started driving again. They were almost there.

Off to the side of the main entrance, Riker put the van in park. Easier to find it later. As if someone could miss something that big, but Riker swore it could happen.

Once inside Taps grabbed Riker’s hand while they looked at all the stores inside. He was certainly not at a loss for choice. It was a little overwhelming, but Riker smiled and squeezed his hand. Once, twice, and a third time. Taps’ shoulders relaxed.

“We got a little while. We can walk around until you find what you like. And I mean it. Look for stuff you like, not just something cheap.”

Looking at a section of clearance stuff out in a corridor Taps sighed, but grinned a little. He supposed that wasn’t quite as sneaky as he had hoped it would be. But if it was there, he’d look anyway. If Riker hadn’t dragged him off.

“That’s the junk nobody wanted, come on. We can find something better than that. Make you a real looker,” he playfully laughed.

Partially closing his eyes, his mouth tilted just a little. “Are you saying I’m not a looker now?” Tap tried his best to look put off and laid a hand across his chest in mock offense.

Riker’s cheeks turned pink and he sputtered. “Ah, don’t you get started with that.” He pointedly looked ahead while Taps chuckled. And he absolutely didn’t hear him say he was being adorable. His ears turning pink was just a coincidence.

The first store they tried was a Men’s Wearhouse. They weren’t in there long. Everything was far too dressed up for regular wear and nowhere good enough for dancing in for shows, as Riker had loudly claimed as they were followed around and out of the store with a protective arm around Taps’ shoulders.

They didn’t have a chance to dwell on it long before Taps got distracted. A shop window was covered in graphic tees, and one had Optimus Prime standing tall with his hands on his hips.

Looking over Taps’ shoulder Riker grinned widely. “Look at that! I should be jealous,” he teased. “Should we get that one? Might encourage me to go to the gym.”

Before Taps could defend himself Riker had already hooked his arm around his and he stumbled inside. He was at the tee wall before they noticed what kind of store they were in. There was a whole wall to look over, mostly from bands he didn’t know, before he noticed how dark it was inside. Stepping back Taps looked around the store. There were stickers everywhere and almost everything had spikes or studs on it. Taps didn’t think this was his kind of store.

Riker, however, seemed to be more amused than anything as he walked around and looked at the chain and strap covered pants. Grinning he held up a black and blue pair. “Whaddya think?” When Taps crossed his arms he laughed. Shaking the Tripp pants so the chains clinked he tried again. “Come on they’ll jingle when you dance, it's like another instrument.”

An embarrassed Taps grabbed his arm and dragged him out of the store. There was hardly enough time to put the pants back before he was shuffling sideways, still laughing. “Aw, come on! It was funny.”

Taps just sighed and shook his head. “We need to look at what’s in these stores before we go running in and wasting their time.”

“Ah, beats just standing around waiting for people, right? Probably the funniest thing they’ve seen in weeks.”

Taps didn’t look amused and just kept dragging him down the corridor and away from the store. They walked in a comfortable silence for a while, one of Taps’ arms still wrapped around one of Riker’s as they glanced through at the different shops.

“Hey, this one doesn’t look so bad. Let’s see if you like anything.” Riker gently tugged on Taps’ arm to show him a little shop that looked like an outlet store. A nice in between from the last two they walked through.

Looking it over Taps tilted his head. With a small nod, he walked in with Riker, finally letting go of his arm to start looking around.

It was a lot bigger once they got inside and Taps felt a little overwhelmed again. There was a lot more than just the section they saw from the common way. It branched off into whole other rooms.

Riker took his hand with a cheeky grin and guided him over to a set of racks. “Clothes aren’t gonna just jump in your hands. We gotta look first,” he teased as he started looking through the first one.

“Hey, what about this?” Riker held up a white shirt with bright neon print ‘What’. When Taps just narrowed his eyes he shrugged and put it back.

Riker tried again with a pink and orange Hawaiian shirt.

“No,” said Taps simply, and Riker pouted. Was he being serious? He shook his head as he kept looking for something he liked. There were a lot of nice clothes here, but he wasn’t going to be selfish so only a couple things.

The first thing he found that he really liked was a dark blue satin shirt. Taking it off the rack he looked it over and checked the shoulders. It would probably fit well. Looking over the tag his eyes went wide. That was too much when they could get him a shirt for a couple dollars at a thrift shop. Before he could put it back Riker’s hand was over his, covering the price tag.

“Don’t look at that. Just make sure it’s something you like. That’s all that matters right now, okay?” He waited for Taps to nod before going to look at clothes for him again. Another loud Hawaiian shirt. Did he have a thing for Hawaiian shirts?

Some time, and many gaudy shirts later, seriously Taps was worried Riker wasn’t joking anymore, they made their way over to the fitting rooms so Taps could try them on. Not that either of them would say it out loud, but they were grateful it was unmanned.

Taps shifts from foot to foot a moment before Riker is pushing him into a room to try on the clothes.

“Go on. Try them on and we can go home, okay?” He encouraged and shut the door behind Taps so he could change. Luckily this place had comfortable chairs to sit in while he waited.

Tap took his time as he looked this way and that in the mirrors. Dark wash jeans and a light red button down shirt. Tucking it in looked too formal so he pulled it out and tried again. He tried again with some buttons undone. His shoulders slumped and he gave up. It wasn’t’ that he had disliked it. But he wasn’t sure if it was right either. He opened the door and stepped out to show Riker and get a second opinion.

When Taps stepped out Riker wolf-whistled at him and grinned widely. “It looks good on ya, Taps. Didn’t take ya for a half open shirt kinda guy, though.”

With a long whine, Taps covered his face in embarrassment. “You stop that! I was trying to figure out how it looked best.”

Riker just kept grinning at Taps. “It looks good. There’ still more though ain’t there?”

Taps’ mouth tilted again as he finally put his hands down again and watched Riker affectionately before he nodded and headed back to change. Maybe it wasn’t so bad.

This time he had light wash jeans and a grey shirt that said ‘I Never Liked You Anyway’, written in red across the chest.

When Taps stepped out Riker put both hands on his chest. “Ouch, really, Taps? Couldn’t you have let me down a little gentler?”

Taps just rolled his eyes at that before stepping back inside. This time only the shirt changed. A pink shirt with a little water spout tap dancing with a hat and cane.

Riker laughed when he saw it. “Oh, you would! Wouldn’t you? You have to get that one, no matter what.”

Taps laughed and beamed at that, he was rather proud of that one. The next outfit took him a little longer to perfect. The dark blue shirt he had picked up first hung open with a white shirt underneath with a pair of black jeans. Fussing with the collar a moment he stepped out to show Riker.

He may have been broken. Riker sat there with a blank face and his mouth hung open slightly.

That made Taps a little worried and he fidgeted with the shirt again. “That bad, huh? Guess they can’t all be winners.” He grabbed the door behind him to go and change back into his normal clothes.

“Wait no, no. It looks good Taps. It looks really good. Definitely get that one,” hurried Riker as he sat up more in the chair

Taps tilted his head and he chuckled softly when it clicked “Alright. I’ll get this one.” He opened the door and looked at himself in the mirror again. He adjusted the collar again and tugged on the sides. This one he knew was expensive. “Is this really okay? I mean, there’s better ways to spend the money.”

Riker clicked his tongue and stood up from the cushioned seat to stand behind Taps. Wrapping his arms around him he stood on his toes a little to prop his head on Taps’ shoulder. “I can’t think of a better one. You deserve to have nice things, Taps. Like really nice things. It’s not a lot, but these are gonna be yours. Not hand me downs or something cheap we had to snag from a thrift store. Stuff you picked because you like it and you like how you look in it.”

Taps was quiet as he shut his eyes as his mouth tilted softly. Despite everything, this was why he was with Riker. He laid his hands over Riker’s and leaned his head gently against his for a moment.

“Look at you being so soft.”

“Only for you.” They both laughed at that. For a long moment, they were quiet.

Eventually, Taps murmured, “if there’s enough left, can we go look at some beanies?”

Riker’s face split into a wide grin and he nodded before he finally let Taps go. “Sounds good. Go on and get changed and we’ll find some.”

Taps never thought he could make someone happy just by being happy but, it was nice to see Riker smile like that. And maybe it wasn’t being too selfish if seeing that smile was better than the clothes.

[axther]

Hi can I request a matchup?? I’m a 5’0 bi girl (preference for girls but guys are also cool!) i have short, dark hair and big brown eyes, and I never leave the house without trying to dress fashionably. I’m super bubbly and social, sometimes reckless and wild, I’m intellectually smart but a huge dumbass, and can’t help myself from smiling. I’m also depressed and hella self conscious so that’s fun! I like art, writing poetry and short stories, and theatre. Thank you so much!

Hi this took forever I am SO sorry. My ass Do be depressed and slow, and my brain said ‘haha writer juices EMPTY. WHORE’ so this definitely had me stumped   

#1 is...Neijre! 

Now I’m probably gonna key in on the reckless and wild part here

Because y’all met at a party probably!! 

Now we all know that Neijre is popular. 

Blunt but popular. 

So one day y’all are at someone’s ‘my parent’s aren’t home and I’m pretty sure that if I replace the vodka with water they won’t notice’ party. 

It’s going great!! 

People are wasted and Lady Gaga is blasting and the friend you came with ran off with a Ketsubutsu student 

You’re kind of tipsy

Tipsy enough that you don’t have the cognition to think through decisions 

So you’re standing next to this blue-haired cutie who you’re pretty sure you’ve seen before 

When someone bursts through the front door, screaming bloody murder about the police 

Naturally, they have everyone’s attention when an officer that definitely already called the paddy wagon 

So someone from the upstairs balcony hollers ‘scatter!!’ and you grab the hand of the first person you saw

Which was the blue-haired girl! 

And she seems surprised but she runs with it (literally)!! 

You two go upstairs, almost cornered, before hopping out a window 

You two are falling when she uses her quirk and helps your landing 

And then y’all make tracks for the fence line. 

By the time you two have ditched the house, it’s almost midnight 

And you guys are wandering around town 

The blue-haired girl’s heels are hanging off of one hand 

And the silence is filled with babbling between the two 

A gas station is the decided pit stop before you two part ways 

And you walk in to get some waters 

As you two sit on the curb, watching idiot light cigarettes and try to peel out of the station, she glances over

 There’s something magnetic about you 

And she can’t quite pin what 

But you’re always smiling 

And it’s the opposite of getting on her nerves

She wants to see it again and again 

She’s staring at her drink, thinking, before you present her with a handful of chicory flowers 

She realises that you must have picked them from the side of the road 

She’s bright red because, with all of her social expertise, she doesn’t even know your name. 

She doesn’t know if you’re into girls, if you’re trying to ask her out, if you’re just being nice…

She takes them, and before y’all know it, you’re both leaning in

And as she takes the flowers from your hands, you two kiss

Someone mumbles from one of the pumps that it’s just turned midnight 

Out of nowhere 

Your phone goes off 

And that’s when you jump out of the kiss, and your face falls into a mix of shame, fear, and sheepishness.

‘Sorry,’ you murmur. ‘This is my friend, she was at the party. I probably have to go. Are you going to be alright?’ 

Neijre can only mutely nod, still awestruck 

You begin to walk away, your friend audibly hollering at you from the other end of the line about bail

You look back every couple steps or so to make sure that Neijre is okay before you turn and walk out of sight 

And this begins something for Neijre that makes her hold her hands in her cheeks with a bright red blush 

The problem rises the next morning though

When she wakes up in her bed with a headache, she realises that she has no literal idea who you were 

So when she goes to class (because real thugs party on weekdays) she’s hugging the chicory flowers to herself 

She tells her story to Mirio 

Who tells it to Midoriya 

Who tells it to Ochako

Who tells it to Aoyama

Who tells it to-yeah, you get the idea 

So by lunch, the entire school is talking about Neijre’s Cinderella story, and about her kiss at midnight 

And what do you know? 

You hear it in your friend group from 1-D that Neijre got into a cop chase with a dashing stranger who she made out with on a bridge before being cruelly dumped 

And you’re just like ‘?????’ before asking where to find Neijre. 

They answer but don’t put two and two together that maybe you were the dashing stranger 

So later that day you go to the road to pick more chicories and add some speedwells in there, before going to hunt down Neijre. 

You’re standing at the entrance of school the next morning 

And it’s FAR too early for this 

But that’s what love does 

But anyway

You’re standing there

 With the flowers in hand 

And you stand there 

And stand some more 

And you’re standing there for two hours 

And you’re contemplating just bailing and finding her another time 

When you hear the loudest gasp 

You look up

And she’s standing there, hands covering her mouth and her eyes wide 

‘N-No way! It’s you!!’ 

She looks positively elated, and before you can do anything more 

She leaps forward and kisses you smack on the lips 

Sure people are staring 

But she just covers you in kisses, grinning giddily the entire time. 

She seriously had doubted that you would appear, ever again

And that midnight would seem like a summer dream 

Mirio would have to usher Tamaki with him inside because of how long it takes for you two to part 

It becomes the Cinderella story of U.A.

#2 is...Tooru! 

Listen 

This may be sad/punny 

But you make her feel seen 

You always make her feel involved

She understands that because of her quirk there is a bit of an obstacle in trying to involve her 

So whenever you look over and ask her opinion 

She feels really giddy!! 

It makes her blush, and for once, she feels grateful for the invisibility; you can’t see her light up like a Christmas tree. 

She daydreams about you a lot, and to be honest, it’s always really domestic. 

Yes, she may be a cuddle bug, but she wants to go grocery shopping with you and complain about how expensive milk has become 

And sometimes her daydreams will evolve into actual scenarios, including arguments. 

Every time it shifts, she gets kinda spooked and semi-avoids you for about an hour afterwards

The first time you guys really interacted was at the Sports Festival, during the race 

She was lagging a little bit behind because her quirk doesn’t really help 

So at one point, she gets tripped up (she has her uniform on, remember!) 

And she’s pretty sure that he knee is scraped 

But then this sweet little lady stops and notices Tooru holding her knee for a second. 

Tooru’s confused when the young woman looks around, before placing a hand over the wound. 

Tooru’s about to freak out before realising that the wound is gone, but instead, it’s on your knee now 

You give her a thumbs up and carry on, limping a bit now 

She can her Present Mic talking about it loudly, but she’s too busy getting back up and running to pay attention 

She makes it into the top ten (if I remember right) so after you congratulate her!

 With a high five!! 

She’s really giggly throughout the entire encounter and tries to subtly ask if you’re single 

Note that subtly is not really subtle 

So you have an invisible cutie coming for your kneecaps!! 

To kiss them better!! 

After you two begin to chat more

And she invites you to a lot of the extra 1-A outings! 

All the girls are super supportive of it and do their best to make some sort of shoujo situation out of it. 

If it rains then conveniently Tooru left her umbrella at the dorms!! Oh no!! 

Oh? Ochako has an extra that’s big enough to cover the entire class? 

Well then!! You and Tooru have to share 

(bakugou also forgot his umbrella, but as much as he complained to everyone else, he didn’t say a word to you and Tooru) 

The boys (like Bakugou) are a bit less wing-man-y, but they certainly are rooting for you! 

If Tooru wants to know your favourite colour, then chances are, Midoriya’s got it in his brain somewhere. 

If she needs help cooking your favourite meal, then Bakugou will bitch and whine while making sure she measures flour properly. 

And if she’s going on her first date? You bet your ass that Aoyama will be there, styling her. 

So when they see you two kiss for the first time (Tooru wore lipstick to make it easier to aim) everyone went ballistic. 

‘Fucking finally!’ 

‘Go Tooru-chan!!’ 

‘Congrats, kero.’ 

#3 is...Todoroki! 

j

Jealous boy 

He wants to be popular 

He noticed you after the sports festival (of course) 

And sees that you’re a little social butterfly. 

He wants what you have

You have all these people that flock to you for friendships, and you’re always smiling and goofing off

And yet you have fantastic grades 

So with a determined huff, he decides 

He’s gonna ask you to coach him in being a young socialite. 

So when he approaches you he feels really daunted 

You’ve got this crowd of people around you (in his eyes) 

And he thinks that you wouldn’t even notice him, probably 

However he forgets 

He is a half white half red angsty bastard who everyone saw and instantly parted like the red sea for 

So all you guys see is him glaring down at you

And you’re like ‘😰  whoop guess this is where i die” 

Someone’s asking if they can be in your will when Todoroki starts talking 

‘You’re loud. And friendly.’ 

Everyone’s expecting him to blast you to the moon for being loud 

When he goes into a ninety-degree bow

‘Please teach me, sensei.’ 

Everyone’s like the pic i sent you of Bibble 

It’s just AWESTRUCK

And  you’re like ‘ohh, you don’t wanna kill me? Dope!’ 

And that’s where his lessons begin 

You start off with telling him that his resting face made him look either constipated or pissed 

So he starts working on making sure that people know he has no ill intent 

And slowly but surely 

People approach him with invitations to parties for he himself to go to, not as a Todoroki, but as Shoto

And he’s absolutely ecstatic

He thanks you endlessly

But naturally this leads to something or the other for him

Because you gave him the chance he needed to be a teenager, for once 

And gradually he realises 

That’s he’s gotten a crush on you 

Now 

He’s a bit afraid, because he’s not had any good role models in terms of love

And baby boy doesn’t want to lose your friendship and trust if it doesn’t turn out 

He does get jealous 

But doesn’t say anything 

He just stares 

And at one point, after a cute Support student tried panning over their number, you notice todoroki staring at the ground, looking angry

You go up to him

‘Hey, are you okay? You look kinda upset.’ 

His head snaps up and he’s blinking down at you 

And he just feels really conflicted 

Because he assumed that it would be better if you just remained as friends for right now 

And that the best route would be just to keep you in his heart 

But when you look at him like that, he snaps 

‘May i talk to you in private?’ 

‘Sure. Is everything alright?’ You’ve got a nervous smile on your face as he drags you outside 

And once out there he just spills his heart out 

‘I understand that you and I are friends, and you are one of my closest friends. However, I’ve found myself feeling...different around you. I want to hug you, and ward off anyone that tries talking to you with romantic interest. When I first met you, I was jealous that you were so popular and kind, and that everyone loved you for who you were. But as you showed me more and more about how to be normal, I started getting jealous of everyone else, that they could be-’ 

And he goes on this speil and the entire time he is this 🤏 close to crying 

And he starts talking about his mother and how he’s scared he’s gonna end up the same way if he dates you 

You don’t want to cut him off

But he’s going on and on and on pouring out his emotions

So when he takes a second to catch his breath, you pop in 

‘I’m glad you’re talking to me, but I like you too. Hopefully, you’ll stop stressing a bit.’ 

And todoroki short circuits. 

He takes a second 

Blinks

And then blinks again

Before smothering you in a hug as he lets a tear or two fall onto your shoulder 

And you two stand there for definitely longer than you should’ve 

Present Mic actually comes looking for you two because classes started again

And from behind Todoroki’s back, you give Present Mic a thumbs up before gesturing to your other hand rubbing his back and then his gently crying 

Present Mic gives a big ol grin before turning a corner, waiting for you two to be done 

(you’re lucky it was present mic, or else you two would’ve been physically ripped apart) 

@deer-skull2319

[staytheb]

Errands

Pairing: SF9′s Youngbin x OC [Seul] Genre: slice of life, slight fluff Word Count: 4,925 Summary: Seul runs errands believing she’ll get a job, but finds out that she’s doing them for her friend that was supposed to do them. Still though, a job may still be in the talks after she finishes the errands earlier than expected. part two: Acting Secretary (somewhat)

Warning: none, swear words lol

so... this is new, but not really. i had wrote this with another idol in mind like a year or so back. i changed it with Youngbin instead and gave my sister what she wanted. lol anyways, this was supposed to be like an idea for a chapter fic, but i don’t have any interest in doing that and why this story is the way that it is. i may or may not actually make a chapter story, but shall see in the future. i just didn’t want this written thing to be left hidden and forgotten. other than that, happy reading and kthxbai, Admin Lia~

After dropping Yeon at her new work place, Seul dropped off her three year old daughter, Jangmi, with her usual babysitter, Yuna. Yuna was also a good friend of the sisters as well as a fellow mother. Seul could always depend on her for help, especially on such short notice.

"Thanks for watching Jangmi, Yuna." Seul thanked the older woman.

"No problem, Seul. Besides, the boys just love Jangmi like their own sister." Yuna commented as she watched her oldest son leading Jangmi in a random game.

"Yeah, Wonjin’s a great older brother and Jangmi just loves baby Jiho, too."

"Oh, I know. She loves cooing at him. Anyways, how's the job hunting going?"

"Um, okay? Just a bit rough."

"It's because of Seokwon, huh?"

Seokwon was Seul's ex-boyfriend and the father of her daughter. The separation was a bit messy and quite complicated, but Seul eventually pulled through. It was Seokwon who was having a fit about it and obstructing her life. He would contact other companies to prevent Seul from working with them when he found out she was working under whatever company she would have applied to. It was so that she would be force to return to work for him again and Seul wasn't having any of that. She would never let that man control her life and happiness ever again. Even if it meant having to constantly look for employment every few weeks or months.

"If I was still working I would have gotten you through and or pull some strings. I mean I could still ask Kyungtae if you wanna work for his company?"

"Nah, it's all good. Besides, I don't think I could ever work for Kyungtae with how he manages."

"I know. I don't blame you."

"Yeah, but luckily, Yeon is doing well and she hasn't messaged me yet."

"Yeah, I never pictured her as an office lady."

"Me either and neither did she."

Seul let out a sigh remembering what she had told herself to do today.

"Alright, Yuna, I gotta go, but do let me know about Jangmi if she gets too much."

Yuna cast her an understanding smile while patting her back.

"No worries, Seul. Get yourself a job first and just leave Jangmi to me in the mean time."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome, hon."

~~~~~~~~~

Seul had gotten back on the road when her phone rang. It wasn't her sister or friend, but another friend who was a male. She answered through the bluetooth.

"Aren't you supposed to be working, Dawon?" Seul asked the caller as the male chuckled. "I am, Seul."

"Uh huh. Right."

"Yeah, yeah, but back to the subject of working, that's why I'm calling you."

"What do you want? I'm out driving looking for job openings that isn't related to my ex."

"I've heard and know that it's been impossible since he has such huge connections."

"Unfortunately."

"Anyways, that's why I have a proposition for you which for now involves you driving, but not looking further for a job."

"You couldn't just say that you know of an opening for me to apply for?"

"That's no fun. Anyways, the first thing I need you to do is go to Banana Boutique and the rest I'll send you in a text in a minute."

"Okay. That's it? Does this job pay well because I really do need the money as soon as possible."

"It does, but you'll get a fat bonus if you can complete everything on the list I've sent you."

"How much of a bonus are we talking about here?"

"Three times than I would make in a two weeks."

"Dang. That's more than what I would make if I worked with Seokwon again."

"Yeah, but it's better because you won't have to work with Seokwon again."

"Shoot. I'm in, but why so much?"

"Boss' orders and he won't tell me."

"Okay then. I'm down"

"There is a catch."

"Which is?"

"You'll need to be back before twelve-forty-five though for anything to count to get the job."

Seul glanced at the time on her dashboard and rolled her eyes.

"Which is like less than four hours. That's a lot of time."

"It may seem like so, but it's not."

"Then is it even worth it?"

"I know you can do it! Seul, I swear. It's worth it."

"Yeah, yeah, fine. See you soon, Dawon."

"See you soon and good luck!"

"Thanks and bye."

Seul ended the call with a chuckle as she signaled left to head on over to Banana Boutique. While waiting at the light she received Dawon's detailed message and was confused by the name, Youngbin Kim, and the credit card information that appeared in the beginning of the text. She learned that it would be the person she would be running errands for and his account information to make all of the purchases through before scrolling down to see a weird to-do list.

"Go to Banana Boutique. Buy a business casual outfit along with heels and accessories." Seul read aloud with a raised eyebrow. "Afterwards go to Tangerine Beauty Salon. Get hair and makeup done."

Seul scoffed at the list and wondered if this was even work related, but she trusted Dawon on this despite his playful personality. So she was gonna go with it for now as she really did need the money and that Yeon couldn't be the only one working. Seul scanned the rest of the long list and realized that it was all over the place. If she went based on how it was written then it would have her be driving all across town and even backtracking which would make her waste more time and gas. Quickly, Seul scanned her surrounding to pull off to the side and park for a while.

~~~~~~~~~

After finding a parking spot to rest for a bit, Seul copied the list that Dawon had sent her and put it into her notes. While re-reading everything she rearranged the list so that it would have a better flow for her to complete everything on it without wasting time or backtracking and to even get that triple bonus easily. It also meant that she wouldn't go to Banana Boutique or Tangerine Beauty Salon until nearly the end of the to-do list. To which she didn't mind at all as it would make her look fresh and put together. She finished the new to-do list within ten minutes while getting back on the road again.

The first place that Seul had gone to after the new arrangement was to a dry cleaners where she only had to wait for two minutes. Then she went next door to the pharmacy to pick up a prescription that was already ready for pick-up. After that Seul drove down a few streets to the home improvement store to pick up some paint and home decor that this Mr. Kim wanted. Seul also realized after finishing three errands off the list of twenty-something she had no trouble in stating his card information without the actual plastic card being present in front of these businesses. She wondered how often this guy came that it went this easy.

Seul dismissed the idea and continued to the next item on the list. She drove for awhile before she found the place she was looking for. It was a toy store and besides purchasing the several items that this Young person wanted, she had also purchased three stuffed animals for her daughter and sister. As for Youngbin's belongings several of them she could pick up and take with her like some of the sports balls and smaller items while the rest of the things were to be shipped out as they were either too big to fit in her vehicle or weren't in stock at the store itself.

~~~~~~~~~

Seul let out a tired sigh upon placing the two small bags from a jeweler's shop she had just visited inside her car. She was happy that she had a vehicle to accommodate all the things she was stashing into her car for this supposed job. If not, she would have declined Dawon's proposition for it. She just wondered what kind of person this Youngbin Kim was as she couldn't help but imagined the guy upon doing his errands. He either seemed too lazy to pick up his stuff or the fact that he was super busy and had no time for minor inconveniences.

Then again, someone that purchased toys couldn't be all that bad either. Maybe he had a child and a wife, but work was constantly demanding that it didn't leave him time to do such small errands. Or he could just be showering his loved ones with material things to make up for his lack of presence. Who knows what it could be as it could seriously be anything. It really gave her some insight, but then again she knew that she couldn't just based everything off of some list. Seul usually knew the person a bit better once she actually met them, but for now she would just let it be.

Anyways, Seul started her car and drove to the nearest grocery store so she can buy this Youngbin person some groceries before having to go to another location and buy some house cleaning supplies as well for his home. After this errand she would have two more stops to complete and she would be good on time and closer to a job. The second to last stop would be taking a majority of all the items to this apartment complex before heading to Dawon's work place with the other things on the list to be given to his boss. Of course before heading to the work place she would have to stop by some restaurant to pick up the boss' lunch.

Still, Seul was seriously confused as this seem more like a personal errand run that the person himself could do it, but she was doing it instead for a job opening. Nevertheless, Seul reminded herself that it was for the bonus and that she badly needed the job as soon as possible. Then again, she was wondering if others were doing this just as she was and it would be pointless since it meant that this Youngbin Kim person was getting things done more than once and spending a lot more than needed. Seul shook the thoughts away as it didn't matter to her since it wasn't her money or items that she'll be dealing with.

Anyways, once she got done grocery shopping she headed towards Water Apartments which to be honest was a high-end luxury apartment complex building that she for sure wouldn't be able to afford in her entire life. Even less of knowing someone personally who actually lived here. Anyhow, just like using this guy's name and his information to do the errands, Seul was instantly assisted in having the items transported easily to the guy's apartment by a few of the staff members after she informed them where she had to take them.

Seul herself took care of putting away the groceries and cleaning supplies. Upon seeing the apartment, Seul knew for sure that this Youngbin Kim guy was indeed a bachelor and had no significant other whatsoever. She wondered if Dawon's boss even lived here as there was practically no food in the fridge or the cabinets. Neither were there any picture frames or personal touches to the overall place when she had put away the bagged clothing and the prescription when she entered the main bedroom to lay them on the bed. It seemed like it was in a presentation mode to be shown to potential buyers for the place. Then again, Seul assumed the guy must be a minimalist or could have just recently moved in hence the to-do list and a family must be on the way to add those touches.

Shaking the thoughts away and getting back to focus, Seul resumed putting the things away. Once everything was settled, Seul took photos of the places where the items were now settled as it was required of her to do so since it proved that she actually completed the errands and sent the images to Dawon. Seul returned to her car and went to the post office to drop off some of the packages she had done earlier before heading back towards Dawon's workplace to finish out the rest of the list. She felt proud as she had shaved off basically an hour. Everything felt like it would be smooth sailing from here on out.

~~~~~~~~~

After quickly purchasing a basic yet cute outfit from Banana Boutique with minimal accessories to complement and visiting Tangerine Beauty Salon to style the way she preferred to look, Seul arrived at Hot Potato to pick up Youngbin's meal along with her own with less than an hour to spare. Luckily she had called in earlier to make an order so that when she arrived she just had to do a pick up. So when she entered the restaurant she was checked out by her cousin upon walking up to the counter for pick-ups.

"Oh ho ho. You're looking good." Kwangjin complimented. "A hot date? A new candidate father figure for Jangmi?"

Seul rolled her eyes.

"No, Kwangjin. It's for a job. Anyways, I have a group pick-up order."

"Oh, so it was for you."

"Mmhmm."

"Okay. I'll be right back."

Kwangjin momentarily left to fetch Seul's order before returning shortly with four bags in hand along with three drinks.

"So who's the other order for if not you or Yeon?" Kwangjin asked while setting the items on the counter.

"My future boss. I'm picking up something for his lunch today, too."

Seul held her phone out for Kwangjin to read.

"Anyways, the buldak with both the rice cake and steamed egg is for my future boss. The rest is mine which I'll pay separately."

Kwangjin was inputting Young's card info before recognizing it soon afterwards.

"Your future boss is Youngbin Kim?"

"Possibly. Why?"

"Oh, well, he's a friend of mine. I could put in a good word for you like I did for Yeon."

"Yeah you should've done that in the first place like you did with Yeon."

Kwangin chuckled as he recalled that situation.

"I'm pretty sure she still wishes to be working here though."

"True, but she can't stand working with you though."

"Not my fault I'm here everyday."

"True, but you keep messing with her schedules and that's why she didn't want to work here again."

"Haha, yeah, that's right. Anyways, Youngbin didn't have any job offerings so that's why I didn't say anything. Also you don't want to work here either."

"Oh okay, and yeah true about working here. Although it isn't bad or anything."

"Because you just don't want me as your boss and me messing up your schedule."

"That too, but are you done inputting the info yet?"

"I am, but why not make him pay for it all?"

"Because I'm not like that."

"Yeah, I know, but here."

Kwangjin handed his cousin the receipt for Youngbin's meal and rejected Seul's card.

"Yours is on the house."

"Why?"

"Because I said so."

Kwangjin cast her a smug look while handing the bags over to her along with the three drinks he knew were her and Yeon's favorite.

"I didn't order any drinks." Seul declared with a confused expression.

"I know. It's on me, too. Enjoy and good luck in getting the job."

"Thanks and you better not be calling him to get me in without my own merit."

"I would never do that."

"Mmhmm. Bye."

"Later."

Seul took her things and waved him off while taking a sip of her Green Tea Latte of the three drinks that her cousin gave her.

~~~~~~~~~

When Seul arrived to Dawon's workplace, her eyebrows furrowed upon recognizing the streets and the buildings before heading towards the underground parking lot she had dropped off her sister earlier today.

"Does Dawon work here, too?" She mumbled as she found a parking space not that far from the elevators. "Maybe I could give Yeon her meal while I'm at it."

She had messaged Dawon earlier that she was almost done, but didn't let him know she was here while making sure her appearance was presentable. She did send her sister a message about having her lunch and to let her know where to meet up. As for Dawon he had already messaged her about what to do at the front desk and where to go from there so she figured she could surprise him. Seul got out of her car and opened the truck of the vehicle. She pulled out her blue collapsible wagon and unfolded it for usage while setting it on the concrete floor. This was a nifty item when going to places with Jangmi.

Seul placed the food and the items that Youngbin had wanted inside the wagon. Like the documents he had left at his apartment along with two succulents of nine he wanted to be at the office for some reason. As well as some other things like books, caps, and a Janggi set. She even placed her drinks in the pockets on the outside of the compartment before shutting and locking up her car. Seul placed her other bag over her shoulders while heading to the elevator.

Seul arrived on the seventh floor of the B building after checking in with a Park Haeyoon at the receptionist desk and obtaining her visitor's pass. She arrived on the floor and pulled her little wagon behind her in search of Dawon as he didn't appear like he said he would. She was given curious looks by the workers on the floor and knew it was because of the wagon, but no one questioned her about it. Seul was gonna ask one of the staff if they knew where Dawon was, but came upon a familiar face instead.

"Inseong?"

Inseong met Seul's gaze as it lit up with recognition.

"Seul! Wow, what are you doing here?"

He enveloped her into a friendly hugged before noticing her wagon. He gave her a knowing look once he pulled away.

"Did Dawon tell you there was a possible job opening and that you had to do all of these errands for our boss because he'll pay like triple the amount?"

"Um, yeah, how'd you know?"

"Because Dawon was supposed to be the one to do that. Not you."

"Excuse me?"

Inseong held back a laugh upon knowing how his friend was going to react while also taking a few steps back just in case Seul got violent.

"You're joking, right?" Seul asked with a not amused expression. "Because I didn't just waste my time to do his job for him for nothing, Inseong."

She then motioned at her whole attire.

"I also didn't spend money to get new clothes, my hair, and makeup done either."

"I know, Seul, I know, but..."

"Just lead me to his ass and don't worry, I won't cause a scene. I'm not like that."

Inseong chuckled at his friend's words before leading them both to Dawon's work desk.

~~~~~~~~~

"Don't worry, sir. Everything will be done before the allotted time." Dawon spoke into the phone when Seul and Inseong arrived in front of his desk.

Dawon's back was turned away from them and wasn't aware he had visitors. It wasn't until he turned around like he wasn't at work, but at home in mid-conversation that he took notice of his friends.

"Oh, hey." Dawon said in a slow manner as his eyes glance from Inseong to Seul and back and forth totally forgetting that he was supposed to be on the phone with his boss and discussing important matters.

"I'll leave it between the two of you." Inseong said with a playful tone while patting Seul's back in a fair warning to be calm as possible.

"So... uh, Seul," Dawon began nervously while unconsciously placing the phone on his desk and not back into its proper place, "How's your day going?"

"Pretty well until I learned the truth about you using me to do your boss' errands for you."

Her dark eyes bore into his as Dawon's averted his gaze to something behind her and looked down. He noticed the blue wagon and let out a nervous chuckle as he returned his gaze back on to his friend.

"Oh yeah?" Seul mused with a wry smile. "So this job opening you mentioned was just a lie for me to get it done for you so that you wouldn't get in trouble for not doing them?"

"What? No. It's totally real. Look at you. All dressed up thanks to Mr. Kim's credit card information. Now you can have an official interview with him."

"That's not what you told me on the phone when I agreed to this supposed errand run, Dawon."

"True, but I did tell you that it would be worth it."

"How? Your boss doesn't even know what you did or that I'm even here."

"True and I'm sure I could put in a good word for you."

"That's not how I roll, Dawon, and you know that."

"Okay true, and yes, Seul, I know but for now, most importantly, do you have his lunch?"

Dawon stood up from his seat and maneuvered around his desk to stand before his friend eagerly.

"I do," Seul answered with a weird smile that Dawon couldn't interpret, "But I'm not giving it to you."

"What? Why not?"

"Because your dumb ass used me when you could've done it yourself."

"Seul, you don't know how busy I was today to do any of the things he wanted me to do."

"Inseong told me that you had a whole two weeks to complete all of that minus the meal. You made me do all of that in less than four hours."

"I know, I know, but just let me off the hook this one time. I'll pay you back in a big way. Just wait and see."

"You do realize you've done this multiple times on multiple occasions, right? Not just with me, but with Yeon, too."

"Yes, bu-"

Seul didn't let him finish as she continued her rant.

"Besides, Kwangjin knows him, too. They're good friends. Now I feel like a fool because Kwangjin believes this was legit as I mentioned this errand thing in passing. Thanks to you I wasted my whole morning when I could've gotten something more important done with my time."

"I'm sorry, Seul. I really am."

"Your sorry isn't gonna do anything for me, Dawon. Besides, you're not the one that had to pick up and drop off all of his stuff at his apartment. I even had to figure out which of his succulents he wanted here in the office when he had so many. I'm not even his personal assistant, but I still did all of this without knowing him or even having this job now."

Before Dawn could counter her words he was interrupted by his boss who overheard the whole conversation on the phone and exited his office. Youngbin was curious about Dawon's female friend who happened to know Kwangjin as well. Even though Dawon was Youngbin's subordinate, he was also a good friend of his outside of working hours. Maybe a more dependable person to take care of things he nor his other subordinates couldn't have time for be given to this woman instead.

"If you're looking or a job, then how would you like to be my personal assistant?" Youngbin asked from behind Dawon as the duo's attention turned towards Youngbin whose attention was set on Seul more than Dawon.

"What do you say, Miss...?"

~~~~~~~~~

"Well then, Miss Lee, you're hire." Youngbin informs her after interviewing Seul.

Before the interview they all had their lunch and Seul sat with Dawon at his desk eating it since she found it awkward if she ate alone or at the worker's cafeteria. She did meet up with Yeon, but her sister had to return to work immediately as she had this business and sales report to write for her own boss already on the first day of work. Luckily, Dawon was able to inform her about his company, the department, and his colleagues, but still Seul wondered if it was all a joke or not. It turned out that it wasn't and the interview lasted less than an hour. Seul felt a little odd about it when Youngbin told her that she just got the job soon afterwards.

"Just like that? You didn't ask to see my resume or asked me about my past work history, Mr. Kim."

"Mmhmm. While I ate my lunch I reviewed Dawon's information he had given to me of you. Although it was quite limited, but it was enough to make the judgment. The skills and management you've demonstrated with what I've seen so far with what you've done with the to-do list that he gave you earlier this morning impresses me. I see that it will correlate well with the position of being my personal assistant."

Youngbin then sifted through the images on his iPad and pointed out the things that he was most curious about that he got from Dawon to send to him while they all had lunch so he could have a heads up on Seul's competence.

"I noticed that I have a receipt from Hot Potato for my lunch, but the price is way too low for what I saw you brought in when we ate lunch. I also noticed there isn't a receipt for Banana Boutique nor one for Tangerine Beauty Salon although these locations was more for your attire than for me. Is there a reason for those, too?"

Seul nodded with an expression indicating that it was obvious.

"Yeah. I used my own money at the boutique and salon since it was something I was picking out and that you shouldn't even be paying for these in the first place. As for Hot Potato, a close friend covered the cost."

"I see."

Youngbin closed down his tablet, set it aside, and looked at Seul with a calm demeanor.

"Since you'll be working for me, Miss Lee, any inconveniences befallen on you should be my responsibility as your boss from now on."

Youngbin partially turned to open a drawer to the right of him before finding what he was looking for. He scribbled some things onto the small pad before ripping a piece of it from its place and held it out for Seul to take.

"This is a reimbursement for the boutique and salon that you spent with your own money."

Seul declined with a polite smile.

"It's fine, Mr. Kim. You don't need to reimburse me for it."

Youngbin slightly frowned while retracting his hand and placed the pad and slip aside. He then went through one of his other drawer once again before finding what he was looking for. He faced the woman again and gently set a black card before her and slid it closer for her to take.

"Then this card will be for your own personal use among other things to do your job efficiently without any hindrance. There's no limit and I wouldn't have to write you a check for reimbursement each time you pay out of your own pocket."

Seul stared at the black card intrigued, but made no move to take it. She glanced back up at Youngbin who was already watching her as he motioned with his hand for her to take the card.

"Please, take it. It's yours while you're working for me."

Seul still regarded him a bit.

"And when I stop working for you in the future?"

"I can just cut that line out with ease."

"I see."

Youngbin leaned forward and pushed the card even closer for Seul to take. Seul continued to gaze at the small plastic item, but didn't take it once again. One side of Youngbin's lips quirked up amused before relaxing back in his chair while gazing at her calmly.

"The card can be used freely without a pin or inputting my information if that's what you're worried about."

"I'm not worried about your card, Mr. Kim. I just don't see why you would entrust me with your money so casually just like hiring me so easily."

Seul's cool demeanor raised the corners of Youngbin's lips higher before he responded back.

"Because you've proven yourself to be trustworthy and responsible, Miss Lee. That's why I've hired you as I have no problem with giving you that card to further build the trust and reliability I see in you thus far."

Seul kept quiet as she contemplated the whole thing in her head more before slowly nodding in agreement.

"Okay. Thank you."

"Good. So when's the earliest you can start, Miss Lee?"

Seul didn't hesitate to take the card this time around while matching his gaze.

"As soon as possible, Mr. Kim."

"Perfect. You'll officially start after the weekend on Monday as your first day on the job. Today we'll count it as an orientation and I'll have Dawon show you around the buildings so you can familiarize yourself of the surroundings. He'll also fill you in about everything else that I'll be unable to do."

Youngbin stood up with Seul following soon after as he led them out of his office.

"Welcome to Marketing of NEOZ Group, Miss Lee."

[brieannakeogh]

Dog Days of Summer- Ch 6

Dog Days of Summer- Chris Evans X plus sized reader. Dog days of summer are usually defined as the hottest of the year, some define it as lazy days. This year ‘hottest’ has nothing to do with the outside temp. You meet Chris and Dodger Evans while taking your own dog to the park.

Previous Chapter / Master List

Warnings: Cursing and fluff, mild angst

It was about 10pm when your phone dinged. You had already changed into pjs when he left your apartment, and had just finished brushing your teeth when it went off.

“Tonight was fun. Thank you for cooking and having me over for dinner. I was thinking maybe we could take the dogs back to the park tomorrow. It’s been a few days since we saw our friend Ron.”

“It was a very pleasant evening. I had three very handsome good boys in my apartment all night. My neighbors are all going to be jealous. The park sounds great and I think Ron has been very happy we’ve stayed away. Also thanking you for shopping with me. If I had known dinner was going to be a regular thing, I would have included you in more meal planning. We’re going to have to go again soon since it won’t stretch as long with the two of us.”

“I hope you don’t feel obligated, we don’t have to do that. I can also pay for half the groceries too.”

You didn’t see it as an obligation at all, just another way to spend time with him. The fact that he seemed a little insecure himself, endeared him to you even more.

“I actually really like the idea and don’t worry about the money. I’ll get it out of you in slave labor, for toting all those bags, and in gas for using your car.” You were now properly in bed, Popcorn laying at your feet, with the light off.

“Lol, fair enough. I’ve got a few reps I need to do before I hit the sack, if I’m going to hold all the grocery bags.”

“You’re going to work out this late at night? I’m already in bed, lights off, ready for sleep.” You can’t say he wasn’t dedicated.

“I could counter it’s a little early to be going to bed. Let me guess you wear feety pajamas to bed?”

Was he indirectly asking what you were wearing? Your thoughts went directly into dirty territory, but you were trying to fight it. “Don’t say it, don’t say it.” You mumbled to yourself as you typed in a reply. Of course you don’t listen to yourself and text him back with a flirty response.

“Feety pjs are good for lounging, but I don’t like to be restricted when I sleep. Clothing tangles too much when I toss and turn.” Which was true, nude sleeping was always the best. “I had planned to read for a bit before going to sleep as well. I need to...let’s say, relax, after that kiss.” Your eyes widened and you bolted upright after you reread what you sent. While you were a much better and braver flirt over text and chat than you ever were in real life, your heart pounded wondering if you had gone too far, especially after he took longer to respond. Almost two minutes had passed before you see the three little dots from where he was typing again.

“I see a cold shower in my future. Probably multiple this week.”  You sigh in relief and lay back down slowly. “I’ll let you go...relax and if you ever need help with that, you have my number. Goodnight and sweet dreams.”

“Goodnight.” You reply simply ignoring his offer of help comment, tempted to text him back right then, but you knew it wasn’t the time. He had you so worked up, that it didn’t take long for you to be able to cum and relaxed enough to sleep. Your dreams full of blue eyes and a ruddy brown beard.

The next morning you expected to wake up groggy, but giddy excitement from everything that happened yesterday still flowed through your veins. So much for taking it slow.

Your phone already had a message from Chris, telling you a time to meet him at the park and then after you hadn’t responded, teasing you for sleeping in so late. Rolling your eyes as it’s still before 11am, you shoot him a quick text back confirming the time.

Getting yourself and Popcorn ready for the day you head out in time to meet Chris at the dog park. You see him sitting on what you have dubbed in your head as ‘our’ bench and walk over to him. He’s gone casual in his backwards baseball cap, sunglasses and sweatpants. The hoodie he’s wearing looks super soft too. Spotting you as you get nearer, he goes to stand, but you wave him back down as you unhook Popcorn and sit beside him, leaning into his side.

“Hi.”

“Hi.” He answers back.

“Fancy meeting you here.” You smirk. “Where’s the pupper? I was expecting kisses.”

“He’s found another playmate.” Chris points to the other side of the park where Dodger is chasing a black and tan dog around playfully. “But I can volunteer my services for kisses if ya like. Guaranteed less slobber.” He smiles, eyebrow arched.

You’re surprised and look around at the other people in the park. “I mean, I don’t mind but don’t you worry someone will…” He cuts you off with a quick chase kiss to the mouth, forehead and cheek.

“See no one noticed, and even if they did fuck ‘em.” He tells you, wrapping his arm around your shoulders, and you find you are quite content to just lay your head back into his arm and watch the dogs play. Well dog play, because like usual Popcorn is lying near the bench asleep.

The two of you fall into small talk. Typical things like the weather and the show you had watched the night before, which quickly turns into politics and heavier topics somehow. Chris is pleasantly surprised you share a lot of his views and the ones where you differ are not deal breakers for either of you.

You love watching the passion in his eyes as he talks about the different subjects, much more so then when the topics were light and fluffy. He was ranting about climate change and Biff when you couldn’t help but to let out a giggle.

“What?” He asks with a soft smile.

“Nothing, I just really like this. I’ve just never gotten into this heavy of a conversation after, what? This is technically our second date right? Does yesterday count as a date since it morphed halfway through?”

“I would qualify it as a second date. You knew my intention when you invited me over for dinner, plus you changed and straightened up.”

“Caught that did you?”

“Again, were you trying to be subtle?” You laugh and shake your head. “Also isn’t it better to go ahead and get deal breakers out of the way. I mean we aren’t getting any younger and it would suck if we liked each other a lot and than hit a wall.”

“Ok, shoot.”

“Let’s see….of course you would have to be ok with the actor, famous thing. I won’t want to go officially public until I’m sure. I don’t want to share my private life in front of an audience.”

“That’s perfectly fine with me. The red carpet seems stressful.” He smirks a little at that.

“Also permanent residence here in Boston, and kids. I’ll want those.”

You nod at the Boston, but pause at the kids. This you were iffy on. “I don’t want kids right now, but maybe if I find the right guy, in a few years.” You look up to him and he doesn’t seem bothered by that.

“That’s understandable. You want a little time as a couple before kids.” You nod at him. “Must love dogs and Disney.” Which you roll your eyes at. He’s seen your Disney collection and the dogs are why you are there in the first place. “What about you?”

“Hmmm well, the away on set all the time will be hard, but I’ve dated workaholics before. Can people visit?”

“Depends and sometimes I don’t have a lot of free time when filming.”

“I think it’s manageable. I’m pretty flexible, just the obvious things. Ya know like cheating.” He nudged you in the side to be more serious. “I don’t know, I can’t think of any. I mostly just don’t want to be treated like shit and taken for granted. Which is why the long away periods worries me. Not about you but that my insecurities will fester and tell me why the hell would you want to date me? Then you don’t answer a text and I’ll freak out which will make you mad and upset because you didn’t do anything wrong, you were just working.” Saying all of that quickly in in one breath, you huffed out and relaxed your shoulders.

“Wow, that got real, and dark.”

You roll towards him, putting an arm around his waist and your forehead on his chest. “I warned you I was crazy.” He snort laughs. “No, I’m just thinking extremes. It’ll probably be fine.”

Chris’s hand rubs circles on your lower back. “You know I have to make out with people and pretend to have sex too right?” His voice is very serious like that’s been a problem in the past.

You sit up and look at him in the eye. “Uhhh I’ve watched your movies before...I know how acting works.” The confusion in your voice evident.

“It’s just been a problem in the past when I’ve dated someone not in the industry.”

“That won’t be a problem. It’s a job you’re working, that doesn’t count as cheating and I’m not the jealous type. Honestly, how do you think my ex-fiance got away with it so long? I knew it was just him and his secretary at work all night alone together but I believed him when he said he was working. I’m stupidly trusting.”

“Optimistic is what you are.”

“Optimistic huh? I like that. So no deal breakers found. Does that mean we can go eat lunch, I’m starving.”

He chuckles and calls Dodger back. At the little dog friendly bistro the hostess asks how many, which Chris confirms two, but you interrupt asking if Ron is working.

“What are you doing?” Chris whispers in your ear and you wave him off.

“It looks like he is and he has a table open on the patio if you prefer to be seated in his section?”

An evil grin comes on your face as you tell her “That would be lovely.” Chris shaking his head at you the whole time.

The hostess seats you with a couple of menus and Chris just keeps looking at you with a “I can’t believe you are doing this again.” look on his face as he tries to keep from laughing.

You watch as Ron steps up to your table, not really looking at either of you, as he goes into his spiel on welcoming to the restaurant and what specials there are.

He looks up with a polite smile on his face and you see the look die in his eyes as he recognizes the two of you, unconsciously taking a step back. Chris is hiding his face in his menu, but you can see the shaking of his shoulders.

“Hiya Ron! Long time no see. How’s life been treating ya?” The excitement in your voice breaks an audible snicker from Chris.

“Just fine ma’am. What can I get you to drink?” Ron is trying to be as professional as possible and you have to admire him for that.

“I think waters all around?” You look to Chris who nods, not able to say anything. “Don’t forget thing one and thing two.” You point to the dogs.

Ron grips his pen a little tighter. “It was separate checks correct?”

You look him right in the eye without blinking. “No Ron, not anymore.” And you smirk.

Ron huffs out an irritated sigh and turns on his heel to leave.

Laughter from across the table makes you break into a fit of your own giggles.

“Was that why you wanted Ron’s section?”

“He looked down his nose at me last time, so I wanted show him he shouldn’t judge people. I know it’s a little on the petty side but just let me have my fun.”

“Hey you have as much fun as you want, but you’re paying for the tip. I’m not going to be trying to judge how much extra to give based on how much of an annoyance you were to him. We’re still in the ‘everything is endearing and cute’ stage.”

“So ‘everything is endearing and cute’, you say? I don’t think I’ve heard of that stage. Can you give me an example, use it in a sentence?”

A sly smile forms on his face that has you worried. “For example, that cute little screech you do when I leave.”

Your face heats up instantly. “You heard that huh?”

“The whole floor heard it, but it was cute.”

“Aww you think I’m cute?” Ron stops by the table to drop off water. “Ron did you hear that? He thinks I’m cute.”

“That you were acting cute.” Chris corrected.

“Ron we’ve known each other a while now. Do you think I act cute or just am cute?”

Ron blinks down at you and turns his head to Chris. “Sir sincerely good luck to you and you have my deepest sympathies.” He turns on his heel and walks away from the table without looking back at you.

“Wait? Was that a joke? Did Ron actually make a joke?” You asked Chris excitedly.

“I’m am now certain you have broken Ron.” Chris nods solemnly.

You both crack up at that and then actually read the menu instead of pointing at something random. Leaving Ron alone for the rest of lunch, you still provide him with generous tip at at the end and you think you see a smirk when he comes to pick it up.

The short walk back to your apartment is nice. Conversation flows naturally and you don’t feel as if you need to fill up all the space with talking. The awkwardness you use to feel having the gorgeous man keep pace beside you has all but dissipated. You still find it strange, but his presence puts you at ease. You’re starting to think that maybe this could work, although you didn’t know for sure until you had to go months apart. That was the real test.

The two of you step out of the elevator and into the hall, the dogs in tow. Another plan of watching tv to pass the time before dinner was already in the works. Chris wanted to finish the show you were watching and you were happy to oblige.

Sticking the key in the lock, it turns but without the telltale click when it unlocks. Your brow furrows and you pause with your hand on the doorknob.

“Everything alright?” Chris asks from behind you.

“The door wasn’t locked. I could have sworn I locked it when I left.” His face mimics yours with a frown.

“Step back and take the dogs. Let me go in first just to check.” You really want to argue but you’re scared and he gives you hard look when he hands you the leashes to not argue. He tries to be quiet as he slowly opens the door. You can’t help but to try to peek in around him but his wide shoulders don’t leave much room around the doorway. After he steps inside, he pulls the door to but not completely shut, keeping you on the other side in the hallway.

“Who the fuck are you?!” You hear someone who is definitely not Chris, shout from the apartment. You knew that voice, you had fucked that voice. No longer sitting on the sidelines you barged in and see Matt standing in the living room, arms crossed like he had just caught an intruder.

“I could ask the same buddy.” Chris responded with very similar pose, although with a couple more inches, height and width, on Matt. Chris was much more intimidating.

“Chris it’s fine.” You come up behind him with a hand to his lower back, and he looks down at you confused. “Well it’s not fine but I’ll handle it.” You shove the leashes into his hands as you move between them. “Chris this is my asshole Matt. Asshole this is Chris.” Chris’ eyes flash with recognition and he takes a look at the ex-fiance, judging him on all levels. “Now that we are all caught up, what the fuck Matt? You can’t just let yourself in. You don’t live here anymore and you said you gave me all your keys.”

“I’m still paying for the place. I can stop by if I want to.”

“No, no you can’t, that was the agreement. You moved out and moved in with your side bitch, and as an apology for making me quit my job and move to Boston, you paid rent up for this place until I could find a job.” You were so angry, you were boiling. You didn’t shout, your voice just got cold and deeper as your rage rolled off of you. Matt had never been smart about telling your moods and today was no exception. Chris on the other hand, stepped a little closer, towering at your back to add even more menace to your words, or possible hold you back when you launched yourself at him. It was hard to tell.

Matt scoffs. “Don’t give me that. Who’s this fucker? You’re telling me you weren’t fucking him on the side while we were together?”

“That’s exactly what I’m say, not that you have any right to know. What are you even doing here Matt?” You were suddenly tired and just ready to get this man out of your apartment so you could settle on the couch with Chris. Matt’s eyes shift from you to Chris and then glance at the bedroom. “Oh my god! You can’t be serious!” This you did shout. “You wanted to stay here? Did she kick you out already?” Matt at least had the decency to look ashamed this time, before he went into begging mode.

“Come on Marshmallow, we had good times right? It’s been miserable without you.” Chris’s hand on your shoulder tightened when your ex tried to win you back with nonsense. The audacity he had to pull this stunt in front of who was obviously your new boyfriend, and much bigger than he is, was ludicrous. Uncrossing your arms from your chest, you place a hand over Chris’s to give him a bit of comfort, not that he even needed it. He knew how you felt about the man in front of you, that was digging himself deeper with each word he spoke.

“Matt, please leave. You cheated on me, we’re done.” You cut him off as he was telling you what a ‘big mistake he made was’, but you couldn’t care less. It was very simple to you. “Hand Chris your keys on the way out, he needs one anyway. This will save us a trip.”

The nice guy act that Matt had been putting on melted in front of you. “You can’t honestly fucking expect me to believe you’re dating this guy?! He’s probably just the dog walker. You couldn’t get someone like this to fuck you unless you were paying them. That’s exactly what you’re doing isn’t it! Yeah you had to get yourself a fucking escort since nobody would touch you!” Matt sneers at you.

Chris was right to have come up closer, because you did in fact attempt to launch yourself at him, more in his defense than your own. Even with his muscles he had a hard time containing you, especially when you threw your weight into it. What got you to calm down was Chris’s loud booming voice calling your name. It sounded just like Captain America was disappointed in you.

“Ok, I’m done staying out of it. Matt or whatever the fuck your name is, hand over the keys. If I ever find out that you were in my girlfriend’s house again, without her permission, I will have a reason to use the myriad of lawyers I keep on retainer.” He turns to you and hands you the leashes to the dogs, who are both looking scared after being witness to the fight. “Take the dogs into your bedroom and calm them down, while I escort him out and down to the lobby.” He runs a finger over your cheek and you realize a stray tear had run down. All you can do is nod and you go around to the back of the apartment to the bedroom. You can hear some muffled talking before the front door closes again.

“Shhh, it’s ok guys, it’s all over now.” Kneeling on the floor you pick up Popcorn and wrap an arm around Dodgers neck, burying your face into the fur on his back.

After what could have been either a few minutes or 15, time wasn’t moving correctly in your world, the door creaks open with Chris leaning on the doorway. He sees you in the floor, arms wrapped around both dogs and his eyes soften. “Did he give you the key?” You ask him. He holds it by the key ring and lets it dangle. “That’s good. I’m really sorry about that. I never thought that he would ever show up here again. I hadn’t prepared for it.”

He sighs and squats down beside you, a hand on your head running it over your hair. “We did move a little fast as well. It was just such a rare opportunity, for both of us, where we didn’t have other things so we could spend as much time as we wanted together. I was enjoying it.”

“Me too.” You bite your lip, debating whether or not you wanted to ask what was on your mind. “Did he say anything else?”

Chris’ eyes flashed for a moment and he took his hand from you. “If you want to take him back just tell me now. I can’t say I understand, but I know you have a history.”

“What?” You were thoroughly confused until it clicked. He thought you were asking if he said anything more about taking you back. “Fuck no I don’t want him back. I just wanted to make sure he didn’t make any threats to you or the dogs or anything. Him being in here and letting himself in freaked me out. What if he has another key?” You were starting to panic and he could hear it in your voice. He sat beside you in the floor and pulled you to him.

“I don’t think he does, although I’m going to have to let my manager know. He finally recognized me when we got to the lobby. He seemed more scared when he figured it out, which was weird. I’m still going to have to keep an eye on it to make sure he doesn’t try to cash the story into the tabloids.”

“Uggg this was not what I wanted. This is your vacation time, you don’t need to be more stressed.” You bang your forehead into his chest, a soft ‘ow’ from him stops you.

“Let’s just forget about it for now and go relax on the couch like we’d planned. After we’ve both calmed down than we can talk.”

It was that word, talk, that dreaded word that got your heart racing again. So much for relaxing tonight.

Next Chapter

@spidey-babe-parker,  @stevieang, @albinotigerpython, @paintballkid711, @katykyll, @avengersrulez1536, @ultrafreespirit, @wantingtobekorra,   @i-had-a-life-once,  @ghostssss, @babybeluuga, @bodhi-black,  @kanupps06, @hatterripper31, @grandloser, @reniescarlett, @kjidhzyx, @normanreedus5150, @ilovethings-somuch, @spiderman-2013, @bloodyvalentine93, @xx-raven, @passionghost, @prettybubblesintheair, @averyrogers83,  @ria132love, @patzammit, @whom-the-fack, @pooslie, @3dsaunt, @kristiedwyer, @janeyboo, @theonelittleone, @aslandia726, @itsmysticalmystery, @stanclub, @geminimoonbeamx, @lookwhatyoumademequeue,

[yuckitup-jwd]

Men VS Women

Women have many faults Men only have 2 Everything they say And everything they do

RELATIONSHIPS: First, a man does not call a relationship a relationship - he refers to it as "that time when me and Suzie were boinking on a semi-regular basis."

When a relationship ends, a woman will cry and pour her heart out to her girlfriends, and she will write a poem titled "All Men Are Idiots." Then she will get on with her life.

A man has a little more trouble letting go. Six months after the breakup at 3 am early on a Sunday morning - he will call and say "I just wanted to let you know you ruined my life, and I'll never forgive you, and I hate you, and you're a total floozy. But I want you to know there's always a chance for us." This is known as the "I Hate You/I Love You" drunken phone call, that 99% of all men have made at least once. There are community colleges that offer courses to help men get over this need; alas these classes rarely prove effective.

SEX: Women prefer 30-45 minutes of foreplay.

Men prefer 30-45 seconds of foreplay. Men consider driving back to her place as part of the foreplay.

MATURITY: Women mature much faster than men. Most 17-year-old females can function as adults.

Most 17-year-old males are still trading baseball cards and giving each other wedgies after gym class. This is why high school romances rarely work out.

COMEDY: Let's say a small group of men and women are in a room, watching tele- vision, and an episode of "The Three Stooges" comes on. Immediately, the men will get very excited - they will laugh uproariously, and even try to imitate the actions of Curly, man's favorite Stooge.

The women will roll their eys, groan, and wait it out.

HANDWRITING: To their credit, men do not decorate their penmanship. They just chicken-scratch.

Women use scented, colored stationery and they dot their "i's" with circles and hearts. Women use ridiculously large loops in their "p's" and "g's." It is a royal pain to read a note from a woman. Even when she's dumping you, she'll put a smiley face at the end of the note.

BATHROOMS: A man has at most seven items in his bathroom - a toothbrush, toothpaste, shaving cream, razor, shampoo, a bar of soap, and a towel from the Holiday Inn.

The average number of items in a typical woman's bathroom is 437. A man would not be able to identify most of these items.

MAGAZINES: Men's magazines often feature pictures of naked women.

Women's magazines also feature pictures of naked women. This is because the female body is a beautiful work of art, while the male body is hairy and lumpy and should not be seen by the light of day.

GROCERIES: A woman makes a list of things she needs and then goes to the store and buys these things.

A man waits until the only items left in his fridge are half of a lemon, and something turning green. Then he goes grocery shopping. He buys everything that looks good. By the time he reaches the checkout counter, his cart is packed tighter than the Clampett's car on The Beverley Hillbillies. Of course, this will not stop him from going to the 10-items-or-less lane.

GOING OUT: When a man says he's ready to go out, it means he's ready to go out.

When a woman says she's ready to go out, it means that she WILL be ready to go out, as soon as she finds her other earring, finishes putting on her makeup...

SHOES: When preparing for work, a woman will put on a Mondi wool suit, and then slip into Reebok sneakers. She will carry her dress shoes in a plastic bag from Saks. When she arrives at work, she will put on her dress shoes. Five minutes later, she will kick them off because her feet are under her desk.

A man wears one pair of shoes for the entire day.

CATS: Women love cats.

Men say they love cats, but when women aren't looking, men kick cats.

MIRRORS: Men are vain; they will check themselves out in the mirror.

Women are ridiculous; they will check out their reflections in any shiny surface - mirrors, spoons, store windows, toasters, Joe Garagiola's head...

GARAGES: Women use garages to park their cars and to store their lawnmowers.

Men use garages for many things. They hang license plates in garages, they watch TV in garages, and they build useless wooden things in garages.

MOVIES: For women, their favorite movie scene is when Clark Gable kisses Vivien Leigh for the first time in "Gone With The Wind."

For men, it's when Jimmy Cagney shoves a grapefruit in Mae Clark's face in "Public Enemy."

JEWELRY: Women look nice when they wear jewelry.

A man can get away with wearing one ring, and that's it. Any more than that, and he will look like a lounge singer named Vic.

MENOPAUSE: When a woman reaches menopause, she goes through a variety of complicated emotional, psychological, and biological changes. The nature and degree of the changes varies with the individual.

Menopause in a man provokes a uniform reaction. He buys aviator glasses, a snazzy French cap, leather driving gloves, and goes shopping for an expensive foreign sports car.

THE TELEPHONE: Men see the telephone as a communications tool. They use the telephone to send short messages to other people.

A woman can visit her girlfriend for two weeks, and upon returning home, she will call the same friend and they will talk for three hours.

LOW BLOWS: Let's say a man and a woman are watching a boxing match on television, and one of the fighters is felled by a low blow.

The woman says, "Oh, gee, that must hurt."

The man doubles over and actually feels the pain.

DIRECTIONS: If a woman is out driving and she finds herself in unfamiliar surroundings, she will stop at a gas station and ask for directions.

Men consider this to be a sign of weakness. A man will never stop and ask for directions. Men will drive in a circle for hours, all the while saying things like, "Looks like I've found a new way to get there," and, "I know I'm in the neighborhood. I recognize that White Hen store."

ADMITTING MISTAKES: Women will sometimes admit making a mistake.

The last man who admitted that he was wrong was General George Custer.

RICHARD GERE: Women like Richard Gere because he is sexy in a dangerous way.

Men hate Richard Gere because he reminds them of that slick guy who works out at the health club and dates only married women.

DRESSING UP: A woman will dress up to go shopping, water the plants, empty the garbage, answer the phone, read a book, get the mail...

A man will dress up for: weddings and funerals.

NUDITY IN MOVIES: Every actress in the history of movies has had to do a nude scene. This is because every movie in the history of movies has been produced by men.

The only actor who has ever appeard nude in the movies is Richard Gere. This is another reason why men hate him.

DAVID LETTERMAN: Men think David Letterman is the funniest man on the face of the earth.

Women think he is a mean, semi-dorky guy who always has a bad haircut.

CAMERAS: Men take photography very seriously. They'll shell out $4000 for state- of-the-art equipment, and build darkrooms, and take photography classes.

Women purchase Kodak Insta-matics, and often produce better-looking shots.

POLITICS: Men love to talk about politics, but they often forget to do political things such as voting.

Women are very happy that another generation of Kennedys are growing up and getting into politics, because they will be able to campaign for them and cry on election night.

LOCKER ROOMS: In the locker room, men talk about three things: money, football, and women. They exaggerate about money, they don't know football nearly as well as they think they do, and they fabricate stories about women.

Women talk about one thing in the locker room - sex. Not in abstract terms, either. They're graphic and technical, and they *never* lie.

LAUNDRY: Women do laundry every couple of days.

A man will wear every article of clothing he owns, including his surgical pants that were hip about eight years ago, before he will do his laundry. When he is finally out of clothes, he will wear a dirty sweatshirt inside out, rent a U-Haul and take his mountain of clothes to the laundromat, and expect to meet a beautiful woman while he is there.

WEDDINGS: When reminiscing about weddings, women talk about the "ceremony."

Men talk about "the bachelor party."

GYM SOCKS: Men wear sensible socks. They wear standard white sweatsocks.

Women wear strange socks. They are cut way below the ankles, have pictures of clouds on them, and have a big fuzzy ball on the back.

TOYS: Little girls love to play with toys. Then, when they reach the age of 11 or 12, they lose interest.

Men never grow out of their obsession with toys. As they get older, their toys simply become more expensive and impractical. Examples of mens toys: miniature TV's, car phones, complicated juicers and blenders, graphic equalizers, small robots that serve cocktails on command, video games, and anything that blinks, beeps and requires at least six "D" batteries to operate.

PLANTS: A woman will ask a man to water her plants while she is on vacation. The man will water the plants. The woman returns five days later, to an apartment full of dead plants. No one knows why this happens.

NICKNAMES: With the exception of female body-builders, who call each other names like "Ultimate Pecs" and "Big Turk," women eschew the use of nicknames. If Gloria, Suzanne, Deborah and Michelle get together for lunch, they will call each other Gloria, Suzanne, Deborah and Michelle.

But if Mike, Dave, and Jack go out for a brewski, they will affectionately refer to each other as Peckerhead, Scumbag, and Louse.

There are five things that women should never, ever ask a guy, according to an article in last April's issue of Sassy magazine.

The five questions are: 1 - "What are you thinking?" 2 - "Do you love me?" 3 - "Do I look fat?" 4 - "Do you think she is prettier than me?" 5 - "What would you do if I died?"

What makes these questions so bad is that every one is guaranteed to explode into a major argument and/or divorce if the man does not answer properly, which is to say dishonestly. For example: 1 - "What are you thinking?"

The proper answer to this question, of course is, "I'm sorry if I've been pensive, dear. I was just reflecting on what a warm, wonderful, caring, thoughtful, intelligent, beautiful woman you are and what a lucky guy I am to have met you." Obviously, this statement bears no resemblance whatsoever to what the guy was really thinking at the time, which was most likely one of five things: a - Baseball b - Football c - How fat you are d - How much prettier she is than you e - How he would spend the insurance money if you died

According to the Sassy article, the best answer to this stupid question came from Al Bundy, of Married With Children, who was asked it by his wife, Peg. "If I wanted you to know," Al said, "I'd be talking instead of thinking."

The other questions also have only one right answer but many wrong answers: 2 - "Do you love me?"

The correct answer to this question is, "Yes." For those guys who feel the need to be more elaborate, you may answer, "Yes, dear." Wrong answers include: a - I suppose so. b - Would it make you feel better if I said yes? c - That depends on what you mean by "love". d - Does it matter? e - Who, me?

3 - "Do I look fat?"

The correct male response to this question is to quickly, confidently, and emphatically state, "No, of course not" and then quickly leave the room. Wrong answers include: a - I wouldn't call you fat, but I wouldn't call you thin either. b - Compared to what? c - A little extra weight looks good on you. d - I've seen fatter. e - Could you repeat the question? I was thinking about your insurance policy

4 - "Do you think she's prettier than me?"

The "she" in the question could be an ex-girlfriend, a passer-by you were staring at so hard that you almost caused a traffic accident or an actress in a movie you just saw. In any case, the correct response is, "No, you are much prettier." Wrong answers include: a - Not prettier, just pretty in a different way. b - I don't know how one goes about rating such things. c - Yes, but I bet you have a better personality. d - Only in the sense that she's younger and thinner. e - Could you repeat the question? I was thinking about your insurance policy.

5 - "What would you do if I died?"

Correct answer: "Dearest love, in the event of your untimely demise, life would cease to have meaning for me and I would perforce hurl myself under the front tires of the first Domino's Pizza truck that came my way." This might be the stupidest question of the lot, as is illustrated by the following stupid exchange: "Dear," said the wife. "What would you do if I died?" "Why, dear, I would be extremely upset," said the husband. "Why do you ask such a question?" "Would you remarry?" persevered the wife. "No, of course not, dear" said the husband. "Don't you like being married?" said the wife. "Of course I do, dear" he said. "Then why wouldn't you remarry?" "Alright," said the husband, "I'd remarry." "You would?" said the wife, looking vaguely hurt. "Yes" said the husband. "Would you sleep with her in our bed?" said the wife after a long pause. "Well yes, I suppose I would." replied the husband. "I see," said the wife indignantly. "And would you let her wear my old clothes? "I suppose, if she wanted to" said the husband. "Really," said the wife icily. "And would you take down the pictures of me and replace them with pictures of her?" "Yes. I think that would be the correct thing to do." "Is that so?" said the wife, leaping to her feet. "And I suppose you'd let her play with my golf clubs, too." "Of course not, dear," said the husband. "She's left-handed..."