#anyway i spent 7 hours on this yesterday instead of eating dinner

[mossymage]

• The safest place (your arms around me) •

[runningandraisingmyheathens]

The past 48ish hours have been something else. Mariah’s birthday was yesterday. All she wanted was to see her sister and her nanny. So, I made it happen. We got there Saturday night. Stayed at an airbnb close to nanny’s. We didn’t get in until 7, didn’t get to nanny’s until 7:45. We ate dinner and hung out. I got everyone back and to bed by 9:30.

We were all startled awake at 1:30 to the terrifying pierce of the fire alarm. I panicked. Couldn’t find my glasses. I’m running around and screaming ‘get up, get out of the house!’ Of course, it stopped once I actually was at the door. Kai was the only one who also was there. Mariah and Josie never got of bed. We’d all have died if there had been a real fire. Anyway, I’m too jacked up and on alert to ever get fully back to sleep.

I drag myself out of bed at 6:30 to go run five miles before having Mariah open gifts. We walked the dogs and went straight back to nanny’s. We then drove to where Madison lives. Madison’s new family held Mariah’s birthday party there. They did everything, all we had to do was show up.

It was a very busy time with swimming and water slides. And Josie being a complete poot because they were jealous of Mariah. Josie was also upset because they felt like the other kids left them. So I spent a lot of time soothing that whole situation out. As it was time to leave, Mariah didn’t want to leave Madison. So, we decided she could stay the night there. Then it was a huge mess with Noah, Josie, and Renna crying because they couldn’t stay. Noah’s was the saddest thing. He just clung to her. So, it was decided Madison would stay with us instead.

Fast forward to bedtime. Mariah wants Madison to sleep with her. Josie doesn’t want to let her. Noah and renn also want to sleep with Madison. Josie starts having literal hysterics. Renna starts screaming that she hates me. Madison has an anxiety attack because Renn’s screaming. Noah is freaking out cause Madison’s having an anxiety attack. I get Madison calm. I finally get renn to sleep by saying she could sleep with me to pacify her. The Josie starts going again. I put them in my bed where they hyperventilate for the next hour. Renn leaves because she’s tired of listening. She goes to sleep in the living room where I wanted her to sleep anyway. Josie finally calms down and goes to sleep. Kai meanwhile has been quietly in her bed sleeping the whole time. She said this morning ‘God, I just sat there thinking ‘shut up, all of you!’

Got up early and we packed up. Madison got picked up. Noah and Mariah wouldn’t let her go. Madison’s lip was quivering the whole time. It was absolutely heart breaking. I hate knowing they all hurt that much. It’s not fair. I wish I had tried harder to keep them all together.

It was the same when we went and said goodbye to nanny. Noah has been very quiet since we came home. I know he’s sad. I asked if he wanted to talk. He just wants to be alone for awhile. Mariah is overly chipper. It’s so hard watching your children hurt and not being able to do anything to fix it.

After we got home around 5:30, I didn’t stop moving until 9, when I finally got to sit down and eat dinner. I’ve cried several times. I got a text saying Madison is back in the hospital after saying she wanted to die. I thought something was up when she kept giving Mariah all her stuff.

So. That was my weekend! It’s been a lot, and I could do with a good night’s sleep and about a week of therapy.

(Also someone should tell Keith that after knowing all this, he was stupid to bring up packing and moving to me today of all days)

[btsmakesmehappy]

Palate Cleanser | 3

Genre: Agent au, friends with benefit (sort of), Stranger to lover, Angst, Fluff, Light Smut

Pairing: Agent!Taehyung x Baker!reader

Word Count: 8,5k

Rating: 18+ (M)

Warning: Short makeout, Jealous-possessive Taehyung. Reader being called a slut.

Chapter: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 completed

Summary: Taehyung needs something to take his mind off his broken heart. His best friend, Jimin, suggests that he should meet another woman and the first woman he met was you. Would you help him even though you have your own problem, that you hate men?

Series Masterlist: The Company

a/n: firstly, I apologize for my late update. As I explained before, I had some writter block plus I moved to a new workplace which require me to adjust more. I usually write around midnight (GMT+7) but I can’t anymore because I have my night shifts in the ER. which is kinda tiring. I don’t want to bring my laptop to ER because, ew, germs. so anyway, enjoy and please please reblog and give me a feedback!

thank you so much to @dreamystuffers for beta-reading editing my lack of grammar-fic. I will be forever thankful <3

You were only ten at the time. It was your mother’s birthday, and your father decided to bring the entire family to eat at a fancy restaurant with a multi-course meal. You were happy at first, having to eat delicious food in a beautiful dress. But when you sat at the table, you were shocked to find that the food was so little in quantity and the way they served the food one by one it was just frustrating for a girl like you. You had starved yourself for this particular dinner, and you were not enjoying it at all.

You were mad because you were hungry and the next course they served you after the appetizer was a cup of lime sorbet instead of some juicy steak. You were on the verge of crying. You thought that the sorbet, which was like ice cream to you, was a dessert. Therefore you thought that dinner had ended, and you were still hungry.

At the age of ten, you thought of yourself as a little bit more mature. You didn’t want to complain to your parents about how hungry you were, you didn’t want to destroy the happy moment. So you decided to just push your emotions and your hunger aside, as you ate the small cup of the lime sorbet in silence, hoping that it would fill your growling stomach.

You would be lying to yourself if you said that after another cup of sorbet you weren’t still hungry. You then snuck some pieces of bread from your mother’s plate while she was busy drinking her wine. The bread itself was delicious, to the point that you devoured almost 10 pieces of bread at once. You were happy, knowing that you were full. And when the waiter then served the next course, you were no longer hungry.

Your mother was obviously mad at you because you didn’t even touch your expensive steak. After all, you were already full of food that was only supposed to be a palate cleanser, but instead, you ate it like it was the main course. But still, you had no regrets.

Maybe you were bound to love that sorbet more than the steak. Maybe you were bound to love the bread more than the wine.

You are awakened by the sound of your phone just like every other morning. As your hands wander on the bed, looking for your damn phone, you feel something warm moving beside you. You open your eyes slowly, only to find Taehyung’s bare chest in front of your face.

You sit up right away, looking at your own body and then at his. Your eyes widen at your naked body. You then swiftly drag your blanket and wrap yourself with it, making Taehyung stir in his sleep at the sudden coldness.

You rise and walk to the couch, rummaging through your purse to turn off the alarm on your phone. You look at the room around you, clothes scattered on the floor. You feel a heat rushing to your face, as memories of last night filling your head.

What should I do the morning after a one-night-stand?

You can’t run away, it is your apartment after all.

You sigh and walk to your bathroom. You let a cold shower run over your body. You hope that Taehyung will leave while you are in the shower, but at the same time, you hope that he won’t.

Why did you do it in the first place? You barely know him, but you wanted him. You wanted to help him. Was it a good idea?

You wash your body quickly and turn your shower off. You then dry yourself off and cover your body with a towel. As you step out of the bathroom, Taehyung is still sleeping soundly, he somehow pulled your bedsheet off to cover his body.

You change into a shirt and new jeans, throwing your jeans from last night into the washer. You look at the mirror and grab your concealer to cover the hickeys on your neck, thanking God, that it hasn’t gone empty.

You look at the clock on the wall. You must go to the bakery in less than an hour. You then walk to the bed and nudge Taehyung softly. “Taehyung, wake up.”

He groans, feeling uncomfortable to be woken up. He stretches his body and sits up. His eyes are still shut as he tries to stay awake. You hide your smile. He looks different from yesterday. He looks intimidating in suits, and now? He just looks adorable with messy hair and a pout on his face.

You run your fingers through his hair. “Take a shower, I will make you some breakfast.” He doesn’t answer you but he stands up and walks to the bathroom with his hand rubbing his eyes lazily. “The towel is in the cabinet over the sink.” You pick his shirt and pants from the floor, smoothing them out, and lay them on your bed.

You open your fridge. You only have a bunch of eggs inside. Well, you never have breakfast. You pick two eggs and a milk carton. You crack open the eggs and put it in the bowl. You whisk it quickly until it becomes a light yellowish color. You pour some milk and put some salt and pepper inside, and whisk it again. You prepare your frying pan on the stove with some butter. As the pan gets hotter, you pour the egg and then scramble it carefully. You cook it only for a minute and then put it on the plate. You use the already buttered pan to toast a slice of bread from the loaf that you always have in your apartment.

You hear the bathroom door open and there is Taehyung with a towel wrapped on his waist, looking unnecessarily attractive. You gulp and divert your attention to your bread. Taehyung walks over to the bed and then wears his clothes.

“What are you making?” He asks while walking to the kitchen. He dries his hair with the towel lazily.

You gesture for him to sit at the table. “Just toast and scrambled eggs. I’m sorry, I don’t have anything else.” You then put the plate on the table and sit in front of him.

“I don’t mind. Thank you.” He then grabs the fork and starts eating the eggs. “It’s good.”

You chuckle sheepishly. “It’s just an egg.”

He nods. His eyes then wander to your kitchen and stop at the coffee machine in the corner. “Is that the coffee machine?” He smiles mischievously.

You pout. “Yeah.” You answer weakly. “Do you want some?”

“Nah. I’m not drinking coffee, It’s bitter.” He says as he rips the bread and puts it in his mouth.

You prop your hand under your chin, watching him eat. “I don’t drink it either.” His head tilts in confusion. “I don’t drink it anymore. I have severe gastritis. Coffee is forbidden for me.” You explain.

“It is a pity. You spent so much money on it.” He is trying hard to hold his laughter as he nods his head. The irony is funny for him. “Are you not eating?” He asks you softly. He has been watching you watch him eat, but you haven’t even eaten anything.

You shake your head. “I never have breakfast. It’s okay. I’m used to it.”

Taehyung’s jaw drops. “Nope. You eat this.” He then rips the bread and puts some of the egg on it and reaches out his hand to feed you. Just as you are trying to refuse, he glares at you, forcing you to accept the food. “That’s why you have gastritis. You should eat more regularly.”

You can feel your heart leap. This is too domestic for you. It is strange, but at the same time, you yearn for it. Taehyung rises from his seat with his plates and walks to the sink. You try to stop him, but he insists on washing the dishes. “You cook, I wash.”

Too domestic.

You decide to distract yourself by making your bed, but when you find some wet spot on it, you feel your face is getting hotter. You then remove the sheets completely and throw it into the laundry bag.

Taehyung then sneaks into your back and makes you jolt in surprise. “Let me walk you to the bakery.”

You can feel your nervousness as your hands become clammy. When he walks behind you while you pick up your jacket and your purse, when his hot breath touches your skin while you lock the door, or when his hands touch yours slightly while you walk beside him. It drives you crazy. You have never felt this way.

You both walk in silence. Neither of you want and try to talk about last night. You are grateful for it though. It’s not even that you don’t want to talk about last night, you just can’t think about it without feeling embarrassed.

Your feet stop in front of the bakery. Just as you’re about to thank him and walk inside, he calls you. “Y/N.” You turn your head towards him. Taehyung then leans into you and gives you a chaste kiss on the lips. “Thank you.” He smiles and walks away.

And there you are. Standing speechless in front of your own bakery. In the morning. With a pounding heart inside your chest. You put your hand over your mouth. You still can feel his soft lips on yours and you feel your face heating up.

Maybe it was a bad idea.

“Hey, Taehyung-ah! Finally, you’ve arrived. I almost fell asleep.” Hoseok says as Taehyung gets into the SUV. It’s Taehyung’s turn today to keep an eye on Chanyeol. Hoseok squints his eyes and looks at Taehyung from head to toe. “You had sex, didn’t you?”

“ehm. No.” Taehyung leers to the sidewalk, not meeting his gaze.

“You wore the same clothes as yesterday.” Hoseok points it out. He then leans in and takes a sniff. “And you smell different.”

“What are you? A dog?” Taehyung is flabbergasted. He then sniffs himself. He can’t smell anything weird. He does smell different though, like lavender, just like your soap. He sighs, admitting defeat. “For the record, I did all of my tasks before I got, ehm, some.”

Hoseok’s eyes lit up. “I don’t care about your tasks, dumbass. So who is she?” It’s not that the job wasn’t his priority. Taehyung is like a little brother to Hoseok. And for several weeks, hell, for several years, he has seen him hurt and sad. So if he can do anything to make him happy, Hoseok will do it in a heartbeat.

Taehyung still looks away towards the window. “I’d rather not say.”

“It was Y/N, wasn’t it?” Hoseok points his finger towards Taehyung. Seeing Taehyung move uncomfortably, Hoseok knows he hits the jackpot. “I knew it! I felt something between you two. So you’re dating now?” He chuckles.

Taehyung frowns his brows. “I am not dating her. It was just a palate cleanser, you know? Just a one-night-stand to get it out of all my system. Jimin recommended it.”

Hoseok snorts. “That’s not a palate cleanser.” Hoseok just feels it. It’s different from any other one-night-stand Taehyung’s had. And if Hoseok thinks about it that way, it must be right. If Taehyung excels in firearms, Yoongi excels in hacking, and Jungkook excels in fighting, Hoseok is good at analyzing people. He majors in psychology after all. His works usually involve people like Namjoon. If the company needs someone to assist with an interrogation, they call Hoseok. Honestly, he could stop doing what he is doing any minute now, and open a consulting therapy. But he won’t, he loves this job. And besides, the pay and the benefits are good.

“What do you mean, Hyung? Of course, it is.” He turns to see his face. “It’s just for sex.”

“Alright, fine! It is a palate cleanser by that definition.” Hoseok shrugs. “So, did you stay the night?” He asks casually.

“Uh-uh.”

“Shower? Breakfast?”

“Yep.”

Hoseok hides his smile. “Did you or did you not kiss her again before you left her?”

Taehyung’s face shows a hint of a blush on his cheeks, remembering how your lips tremble against his. “Yeah?”

“Do you have a plan to meet her again after you’ve done your shift?”

“Maybe?” Taehyung raises one of his eyebrows. Hoseok then laughs. “What is your point, exactly?” He asks impatiently.

“I don’t know, man.” Hoseok opens his door and gets out of the car. “Seems to me like you picked a whole main course instead of just a palate cleanser.” He smiles in a fatherly fashion and closes the door, leaving Taehyung in a state of confusion.

It’s been a few days since you saw Taehyung. Since your last stolen kiss in front of your bakery. Luckily for you, Hani didn’t see it, so at least, you could have a mental breakdown in the locker room without being questioned by her.

And you have been thinking about Taehyung ever since.

And the more you think about him, the more confused you are.

Hence, you finally seek help. Hani to the rescue.

“So, you just kissed him in the middle of the street and slept with him?” She yells and you hush her almost immediately. Sure, it’s one of the calmer times in your bakery, so there are no customers right now. But still, why did she talk that loud in the first place? Hani then leans in to hug you tightly. “I am so glad, Y/N! I taught you well.”

You release yourself from the hug and give her a light hit on the shoulder. “Hey, you’re supposed to scold me like my mother would.”

“For the millionth times, I am not your mother.” She puts her hands on her hips. “I am just happy that you got some, you know, furthermore, with that handsome man. So spill it! Was he good? How many did you come?”

“Hani!” You feel the heat rushing to your face, remembering the night you slept together with Taehyung.

Hani whines. “Stop being such a prude! Just tell me!”

“It- it was good.” You put your hand awkwardly on your neck. “That’s not what I want to talk to you about!”

She tilts her head to the side and then drags you to the seating area. “Fine, let me hear it.”

You clear your throat, “So, I was just thinking.” You rub your hands together. “It just feels weird, you know.”

“What is weird?”

“I am supposed to think about it as sex, a one-night-stand, and nothing more. But when we, ehm, did it, I got so comfortable and I have been thinking about him ever since.” You sigh. “Am I normal?”

Hani blinks her eyes a few times. She knows that you are a smart person and a hard worker with a passionate soul. But she didn’t think that you were this dense. Maybe your ex ruined you more than you think. “You want more, don’t you?” She asks and you nod repeatedly. “Of course you are normal.”

“Right?” You smile. “It’s totally normal to want more after you had sex once. That’s why people think that sex is addicting.” You nod proudly.

“That’s not what I mean-“

The doorbell rings, and you jerk your head to the door. “Welcome to palate cleanser!” You yell to the customer. You then turn your head to Hani. “Thanks, girl, it was messing my head for some time. I am glad I talked to you.”

You walk to the cashier as Hani eyes you. She shakes her head in disbelief, unable to believe how obnoxious you are. But she can’t do anything if you won’t realize it yourself. You need to be the one who realizes your own feelings.

The tall man walks straight towards the cash register. He has a large bag with him, maybe for a laptop or camera. His eyes are big like a deer’s, and you can see his big ears poking out from beneath his beanie. “Hello.”

You beam him a smile. “Hi! Do you need assistance? We have varieties of bread and cakes here. One of our bakery’s best-sellers this month are these cookies. Would you like to try some?”

He looks perplexed. “Ah, sure.” You open the cookie jar and with your tongs, you pick out a piece and give it to him. He then tries it. ”It is good.”

“Thank you! It is sweet and salty at the same time! So you won’t get tired of eating it. How many do you want?” You ask.

“Eh.. I am not really here to buy anything. I am here for this.” He then opens his bag and pulls out a magazine.

You receive and read it. Hani runs her way to your side, curious about the magazine. “What’s this?”

“This is a food magazine I wrote, well we wrote. We usually make a poll for some topics, and this month is for a bakery. And guess what who is in the first place?” He asks as he opens the page.

Hani’s eyes widen, she almost shrieks. “Oh my god! We are in the first place!”

You hug her. “I can’t believe it!” You then look at the man. “Wait, is this even a trusted source?”

He laughs awkwardly. “You can say so.”

“Who cares if it is a fake one! Don’t be so negative, y/n!” She hits your back playfully and walks away with the magazine. You are positive that she will post it on her Instastory.

“Y/N?”

You turn your head to him. “Yes?”

He scratches his head. “Did you go to Big Hit Culinary school?”

You raise one of your eyebrows. “Yes, I did. Do I know you?”

“I am Park Chanyeol. You may not know me, but I was in the same class as you. Do you remember? You were the one who helped me with my butter incident.” He smiles widely.

You try to remember him. “Ah! You were the one who always laughed loudly during class!”

He pouts slightly. “I was hoping you would remember me for better things. Anyway, it was nice to see you again.” He reaches his hand out to you and you shake his hand.

You chuckle. “Bad luck, man. So how are you? I didn’t think you would become a journalist.”

He laughs. “I am good. I didn’t think so either, but eating nice things was my childhood dream. If you can’t cook it, just eat it.” He then looks at Hani from the window. “So, I assume she is Hani then?”

You then knock on the window and gesture for Hani to come outside. “Yep, the one and only. I am just speechless, you remember us!”

“Why wouldn’t I remember the prettiest girl in the class?” He winks at you.

“What? Are you flirting with me?” You ask coyly.

He leans to the counter suggestively. “Why? Am I not allowed to?”

“What?” Hani interrupts. “I am just calling my mother.”

You point at Chanyeol. “He was my classmate in culinary school. Do you remember him?”

Hani puts her hand under her chin. “Aren’t you the one who followed the Lee kid around? I think I saw you sometimes in the cafeteria.”

Chanyeol lips tighten. “Yes, that’s me. Damn, I left no good impression on either of you girls.” He laughs awkwardly. “So what do you say we have dinner tonight for old time sakes?”

Hani clasps her hands together in excitement. “I think it is a good idea!”

“Sure! Barbeque sounds good!” You yell happily. It has been a long time since you have eaten with friends. Maybe you need this to take your mind off Taehyung.

Suddenly, Hani slaps her forehead. “Ah, but I can’t tonight. It is my anniversary. Jackson will cry if I miss this.”

You then remember how Jackson told you that he is going to propose to her tonight. You can’t believe you almost forget about it. “Oh, maybe another time then?”

“No! You should go without me! I am not that close to you anyway!” She says easily. “Who are you? Park Changmin?”

He laughs. “Chanyeol. Park Chanyeol.”

“Right! And for that matter, why don’t you go now? It’s almost dinner too.” Hani offers. “I will close the store.”

You then drag her to the side. “Yah, why are you letting me go alone with this man. I must say that I am not comfortable with this.” You whisper.

“Geez, relax, Y/n!” She waves you off. “And it is good for you too, you know? You can also check if you get the same feeling like you got when you were with the handsome man before.”

Your eyes widen. “What’s the matter with you? You want me to sleep with this random man? I just met him.”

Hani shrugs, “Well, you did it with that handsome man anyway.”

You pout and sigh in defeat. “Fine, I will have dinner with him.”

“Great!” She then looks to Chanyeol. “Alright, Chanyeol-ssi. Please wait there as Y/N will go change.”

You walk slowly towards the locker room. You have never won an argument with her.

The conversation itself is not that bad. You both talk about your school in the past. Chanyeol passionately explains to you how he got into the butter incident. It was summertime and he worked in the station near the window. He had just prepared his ingredients for his introduction to cookies class, and he forgot that he put the bowl of butter near the window because he was busy measuring the other ingredients. The butter melted, like all of it, and what he did next was amusing. He waited for it to become solid again. As a result, he lost some of his time.

You laugh loudly as you flip the meat on the grill. You remember it. How he waited patiently in the counter with his chin propped on it, staring at a bowl. You then gave him your leftover butter because he almost ran out of time. “The funny thing is, you should’ve just put it in the freezer to save time!”

“I know right! I was so panicked at the time!” He picks up a slice of meat from the grill and eats it.

“And sometimes, melted butter works well in some cookies. So if you’d used it at that time, maybe you could’ve gotten an A.”

“See? I didn’t know any of that! That’s why I stuck to journalism.”

You giggle. “Yeah, maybe it’s for the best.” You eat the cooked meat. It’s been a while since you have had this kind of meeting, and now with a man. And surprisingly for you, you don’t feel weird or uncomfortable. Huh. Maybe the palate cleanser thing works.

“You know...” He swallows his food. “I always thought that you were gay.”

You choke in your own saliva. “Why did you think so?”

He shrugs. “Well, you just awfully close with Hani. And I heard that you never wanted to get close with a man.”

You laugh dryly. “Well, I am not gay.”

“Then, is it okay to flirt with you then?” He says as he leans torwards your face. A mischievous smile plastered on his face.

Your eyes widen. You have never been with such an aggressive man before, and you feel your face getting hotter. “ehm... Sure. I guess?”

Chanyeol then smiles widely. “It’s good then.”

The conversation flows smoothly, you can’t even feel the vibration on your phone. By the time dinner ends, Chanyeol insists on walking you home. Still, you don’t feel the same feeling you felt with Taehyung. So you just thank him and wave him goodbye.

Just as you close the door and throw your shoes. You suddenly realize a shadow shifting on your couch. Sure the apartment has a good price, but it somehow lacks security. Like last week, there was even a break-in on the upper floor. That made your parents worried. They even offered to give you some money, just so you could move to a more secure building, which you rejected politely.

Moving swiftly, you take your umbrella from the front door and walk towards the couch trying to be as subtle as you can. You put your purse on the floor quietly and reach for the lamp switch. Quickly after you turn it on, you hit the source of the shadow with the umbrella as hard as you can.

“Ouch!” You jerk your eyes open, only to find a familiar man in front of you, rubbing his head in pain.

“What the fuck, Taehyung? Did you want to scare me or something?” You yell. Your knees go weak and you flop to the floor, your heart still racing. “How in the hell did you get in?”

He smiles sheepishly as he helps you to stand. “You keep a key under your doormat. You need to be careful, you know. You are a single woman living alone in this low-security-apartment.”

You are speechless as you sit on the couch, cursing yourself for forgetting that you kept your spare key there. Taehyung then walks to the kitchen casually. He opens your kitchen cabinet to get two mugs and fills them with water. He walks back to you and forces you to drink.

“I am sorry for sneaking into your apartment.” He says softly. He sits beside you on the couch, looking forward.

You drink it slowly, and begin to calm down. “What do you want? Do I need to call the police or something?”

“You didn’t answer your phone, so I was worried.” He puts the mugs on the table and turns to you. You look into his brown eyes, which draw you in. His eyes are unreadable.

You feel your hands getting clammy. Your heart beats faster. You can smell his cologne mixed with his sweat, and it is intoxicating. He makes it hard for you to breathe. “I am sorry, I must’ve put it in my purse.”

“Who did you go out with?” He snapped. The tone is not sweet at all, it is full of dominance. It is like you’ve been caught red-handed stealing something at a store. And when you don’t answer him, he leans into you, and corners you on the couch. His hands caging you in to stop you from running from him.

With this proximity, you can feel the turmoil inside your stomach. You feel afraid but at the same time, you are excited. You gulp. “Why?”

He hisses. “Just answer me, muffin.” At the sound of the pet name coming from his mouth in his deep voice, you close your thighs, rubbing them together. Taehyung realizes it too. He inches his lips to your ear, so close, you can feel his hot breath. “Who is he?”

“Why should I tell you?” Your breaths shorten. You can feel your underwear getting damp.

Taehyung nibbles your earlobe, making you shiver. “Because maybe he is a dangerous man.”

You gulp, trying to gain the focus. “You are the one who broke into my apartment. Aren’t you more dangerous?”

He hums, “Smart. Then you should know who is in charge now?” he licks your ear and goes down to your neck. “Hmm, do you think you can go out with another man just because my marks have gone?” He then sucks and bites your jaw, which makes you moan.

“Tae-“

Your words are cut off by his lips on yours. His soft lips dance and open yours to sneak his tongue in. As he explores your mouth skillfully, he removes your mug and puts it aside on your table. Just as you begin to melt in his kisses, he pulls away, which makes you moan in protest. “So who is he?” He looks into your eyes, piercingly.

You sigh, gaining your composure, and push him away. “My friend from school. We just ate dinner.” Why do you need to tell him that? You try to control your breath and your raging heart.

He hums. “What did you talk about?” He then pats your head softly and pushes your fallen hair behind your ear.

You shiver but lean in his touch. You begin to wonder, who he really is to make you so weak only by his hand. Who is he to make you so addicted to him? “Just nostalgic events.”

He nods in understanding. He then rises in his seat and walks to your bed. He unbuttons his shirt and let it fall on the ground.

“What are you doing?”

He turns his head to you as he plops on your bed. “I want to sleep.”

You frown as you walk to him. “And why are you doing this here? Don’t you have a place you call home?”

Taehyung pouts and whines. “Come on, Y/N! My apartment is so far away and I am deadly tired.” He casually pulls the blanket over his body and makes himself comfortable on your bed.

“Well, there is a perfect couch for you tonight.” You bend down and pick up his thrown shirt. You smooth it out and put it on a hanger subconsciously. You then go back to the bed, forcefully trying to pull the blanket off his body.

“This bed is perfect, thank you.”  He says as he tugs the blanket back.

Your jaw drops at his antics. “You seriously just kicked me out of my own bed, in my own apartment?”

He raises his head for a second and pats an empty space on the bed beside him. “I didn’t. You are welcome to join me in this perfect bed.” He smirks. “It’s not like this is our first time sleeping together.”

You feel heat rushing to your face. “I am not going to sleep with you!” You yell. This man.

He looks at you mischievously, “Are you sure? We can continue whatever we were doing on that couch before.”

You gulp. Sure, you can still feel how wet your underwear is as it sticks on your skin. And with Taehyung inviting you to the bed, it is tempting.

Seeing you waver, Taehyung then sets the blanket aside and pulls you into his hug. He then turns his body so now your body is pinned underneath him. “You know, for a woman who hates men that much, you sure love how men touch you.” He leans in and kisses your neck. “Or was it because of my touch?”

You snort but never push him away. Deep inside, you know that you want this as much as him. Taehyung then rolls his hips into you, and you can feel his hardness poking from his pants. “You said that you’re deadly tired!”

He chuckles. “I will never get tired of you, muffin.” He then leans in and takes your lips in his.

“Hello?”

“Taehyung? It’s me Hoseok.” The man on the other line answered.

Taehyung stretched his body and walked to his kitchen. “I know, man. What’s up?” He then opened his fridge and took anything inside to fill his empty stomach. He slept without having breakfast and lunch and now his stomach was growling. This job was really messing with his eating schedule.

“Do you remember Y/N?” Hoseok asked cautiously.

Taehyung hummed. “I do. What’s the point man? You really woke me up from my nap just to tease me about her? Are you that bored already?”

“No. That’s not what I wanted to do, at least right now.” He sighed. “I just saw her.”

Taehyung raised one of his eyebrows in confusion. He leaned his back on his fridge as he gulped a carton of milk. “And?”

“I just saw her with Chanyeol.”

Taehyung choked on his milk, not only because it tasted funny but also with a bomb Hoseok just dropped. He then threw the bad milk into the trash and walked back to his bedroom. “Alright, I am coming. I am hanging up!” He then put on the nearest shirt he could get and dialed your number on his phone.

He put his phone on his ear while he’s struggling to put on his pants. And after several times trying to reach you, he hissed and ran from his apartment.

You open your eyes in annoyance. You remember how Taehyung raided your bed last night, and this peaceful morning destroyed by Taehyung making a ruckus in your kitchen. You rise from the bed. Luckily, you slept well last night, but there is soreness between your legs which makes it a little hard for you to walk around.

“What the hell are you doing?” You snap.

Taehyung turns his head to you and smiles sheepishly. “I wanted to make you some breakfast. Sorry to wake you.”

You sigh, “I told you. I don’t need any breakfast.”

“No. You must eat something.” He looks at you from the corner of his eyes as he whisks the egg. “Just take a shower.”

Just when you step into the shower, Taehyung plops himself on the couch and looks for your phone. You seem like the type who showers quickly so he doesn’t have much time to look into your phone. He hisses at the lack of security on your phone, and with just a normal swipe he can access your phone. He scrolls quickly to your text messages, email, and contacts, but there is no suspicious activity regarding Chanyeol.

The water from the shower turned off and he puts your phone in the same place as before. He then walks back to the kitchen to continue his cooking. Taehyung is not good at cooking, but there’s no way he can ruin a scrambled egg right?

But unlucky to him, somehow the egg decides to make him an enemy and refuses to cook nicely. The eggs turn brownish-black instead of light yellowish color.

You sit in front of the table with a questioning look on your face. “What’s this?” You ask as you’re faced with an unknown thing on a plate.

“Scrambled eggs?” He scratches the back of his neck. “Sorry.”

You giggle. “It’s okay. I am sure it is edible.” You then grab your fork and start eating it. You almost choke at the bitterness of the egg. Never have you ever tasted an egg like this.

“How is it?” He asks carefully.

You nod your head, trying your best to chew it quickly and shallow it. “It is kinda edible.”

“Really?” He asks as he grabs some from your plate and puts it in his mouth. “Yikes. It is not edible at all. I can’t believe I made you eat it.” He then tries to grab your plate but you slap his hand.

“It’s okay, there’s nothing wrong with eating burnt food.” You quickly eat all of it and take a big gulp of water to water it down. “I am sure I will be okay.”

His jaw drops at your actions. He worries about your stomach but somehow feels happy that you ate his food so willingly. He then looks at your body, the blueish color on your neck, and the way you’re sitting uncomfortably. “Sorry, was I too rough last night?”

You choke on your own saliva. You cough hard and drink from the glass of water that Taehyung brought you. After a moment, you begin to calm down and stab the food with your fork. “I am fine.”

“I can see that you’re struggling to walk. Are you sure you can go to work? I can call Hani to tell her that you’re not feeling well.”

You jerk your head up towards him, with redness on your cheeks. “I will be fine! Geez.”

He hides his smile after seeing your red face. So cute. “Oh, right. Thank you for letting me crash here.”

“Just no more sneaking in, okay?” You watch him eating his own burnt food in disgust. “So what is your job?” You ask abruptly, remembering that you know nothing about his job whatsoever.

“I am an agent.” He answers mid-chew. He is the type who chews slowly even when it tastes horrible and you can see him struggling to eat his own dish.

You blink your eyes a couple of times as you push a glass of water towards him. “Like an FBI?”

“Yep.” He nods and drinks the water quickly, to wash down the bitterness of his eggs.

You look at him in amusement. “Sure.” You say sarcastically.

He looks at your eyes softly with a mischievous smile in his face. “You don’t believe me?” His plate is somehow cleared up. He puts his hand under his chin, studying your reaction.

“Nope.” You answer dryly. You rise from your seat and walk to the sink with the plate.

He chuckles. “Good then.” He follows you and then puts his plate on the sink. His body towering you from behind. His breath touches your skin and you jolt in surprise. You push him away suddenly, afraid that he will listen to your beating heart. He just laughs knowingly, completely aware of what he did to you. Maybe it is gonna be his new hobby, to tease you. “Let me walk you to work, muffin.”

It’s been a few weeks since the night Taehyung crashed at your apartment. He has been sleeping at your place almost every night since then. He spent the night so many times, to the point that he has spare clothes in your closet and there is his favorite cereal in your kitchen. Your key under the doormat has been long gone, and it can now be found inside Taehyung’s pocket. When you asked him to give your key back, he refused. He told you that it is safer that way. Not to mention that he told you that it is safer for you when you find him inside your apartment when you come back home.

Sure, he is great company, the sex is great, and the way he forcefully feeds you in the morning has made your gastritis better, but how he somehow just sneaks himself in as part of your nightly routine just makes your feelings for him grow exponentially.

And not just every night. He also calls you during the day too. Asking if you have eaten yet, if you have arrived home safely when he can’t go to your apartment, the recipe for the infamous cookies in your bakery (nice try!), and you can say that your days have been really cheerful lately. You don’t dislike this new addition to your routine.

You also sometimes send a bag full of bread to Taehyung and Hoseok when they work overtime, and somehow his friend named Jungkook also requests for your bread. You are getting busy. After the great review from the food magazine before, the bakery has been buzzing lately. You’ve never been this busy before.

You are in the kitchen baking continuously trying to meet the demand. You and Hani also hired a part-timer to help you with the bakery, a girl named Wendy. She has experience working in a bakery, therefore you and Hani chose her. But still, you assign her to work as a cashier and serve the customers, while you and Hani work in the kitchen.

Just after you put a batch in the oven, a knock on the glass startles you. From there, you can see a tall man waving to you. You wave him back and after washing your hands, you walk outside to greet him.

“What do I owe a pleasure to my bakery’s savior?” You shake Chanyeol’s hand. “Really! It has been a very busy day in our bakery since the magazine.”

He smiles back. “No need to thank me. It was a poll after all. If it were up to me, I would put that bakery across yours in first.” He chuckles.

You hit his shoulder playfully. “Rude!” You gesture him to sit. “So, do you need anything?”

“Ah, right.” He then pulls a big envelope from his bag. “This is for you.”

You raise your eyebrow. “You really need to stop doing that, you know.” You open the envelope and pull out some of the paper. “What’s this?”

“So, there will be a party next week. It is like a buffet, actually.”

You scan the paper. “Wow, the guests look fancy and important. There are also politicians.” You look at Chanyeol questioningly. “So do you want to invite me?”

He chuckles. “No. We want you to be one of the caterer there.”

Your eyes widen. “Are you serious? Oh my god! That will be great!” You rise from your seat and go to Chanyeol to hug him. “Thank you! Thank you!”

He pats your back and laughs. “So, do you agree?”

“Of course, we do!!” You pull away from him. “Oh my, I need to tell Hani.”

“Alright. You do that, and I have to go, unfortunately. Everything you need is written in those papers, but if you need something just call me, okay?” He rises from your seat and kisses your cheek lightly. “Talk to you soon, Y/N.” Chanyeol then waves to Hani who is inside the kitchen and walks away from the bakery.

You should be embarrassed with the sudden action, but you didn’t even care. The only thing on your mind is that you’ll have the chance to serve some important people at an important event. This is such a good opportunity for this small bakery. You run to the kitchen to tell Hani. This is like a dream!

Unbeknownst to you, Taehyung was standing in front of your bakery the whole time. He saw how friendly you were with Chanyeol, how you hugged him, and how he kissed your cheek. And Taehyung felt a weird pang inside his chest. He bites his lip and clenches his hands into fists.

Chanyeol is dangerous. He hates how you dropped your defense to that dangerous man. He hates how you smiled at Chanyeol. He hates it.

You should be hating men. Why don’t you hate Chanyeol as well?

He hates it.

He hates seeing you with another man.

After you discuss it with Hani, you both agree to close the bakery on the day of the event. It is the biggest event for both of you, and you wouldn’t let something wrong happen. You needed to prepare for it carefully.

You are busy designing the sweet corner for the party. This party is huge, so you need to make your corner more eye-catching. It is the point of doing this. You want people to know more about your little bakery.

This bakery is your precious baby.

This bakery is your dream.

You stretch your body. You have been working in the bakery for several hours now. It has closed already, Hani has left early and so did Wendy. You feel more worked up and productive if you work in the workplace, and besides, all of the designs and preparation will be done in the bakery, so there is no use to take it back and forth.

Taehyung hasn’t returned all of your calls after you accepted this event. You called him several times to give him the news but he didn’t answer it. You figured that he was busy with his job, so you don’t want to disturb him. Still, you felt a little disappointed not hearing his voice. After several days of talking to him, he became one of your friends. And you kind of miss him.

Suddenly your doorbell rings, and you turn your head to the door. There you find Taehyung walks casually to your bakery. The one you miss the most. “Hey, Tae! I’ve been wanting to call you.” Your eyes dart back to the scattered paper in front of you and Taehyung then sits across you.

“What are you doing?” He smiles as he takes and looks at one of your papers.

You snatch the paper from his hand. You smile proudly. “It is for our big event this Saturday! Can you believe it? This bakery finally gets recognized by some important people.” He hums as he sees you tidying up. You then rise from your seat with your papers to the locker room. “Have you eaten yet? I will treat you this time.”

“Sure.” He answers shortly.

You tilt your head at his antics. He isn’t usually like this. You get used to him being talkative and kinda bratty. “Okay, wait a minute. I will go to change first.”

When you arrive at the diner, you can count on your fingers at how many times Taehyung opened his mouth. He has never been this quiet before. You look at the menu and take a glance at him. He seems bothered by something.

“I will order carbonara and ice tea.” You say to the waiter. “You?”

“I- I will have the same.”

The waiter then takes the menu from you and walks away. You raise your eyebrow at him. “What happened? You look troubled.”

His face jerks to you and shakes his head. “I am fine. Just a little tired.”

“You don’t plan to crash at my place again, do you?” You squint your eyes suspiciously. “The last time you spent the night in my place, you almost set my kitchen on fire. You really should learn to cook, Tae. Wait, maybe I can teach you something. It would be fun! You won’t believe how many-“

“You should drop the event.” Taehyung interrupts.

Your eyes widen. “I am sorry, what?”

“That event that Park Chanyeol asked you to do. You shouldn’t do it.” He said. His eyes staring at yours. You look into them, finding any mischievousness in them, but there are none.

You are flabbergasted. “You do know that bakery is my dream, right? Why are you like this?” You couldn’t believe your ears. You thought of all of the people, Taehyung would be supportive, or at least, he would be happy for you. But this? “And besides, how do you know about him? Are you stalking me?”

“No, Y/N. I just-“

“Wait, are you from the bakery across mine? Do you want to sabotage my bakery?” You yell. “That’s why you asked for my recipe the other day!” You rise from your seat in fury.

“Calm down, muffin. I am not trying to sabotage your job.” He whispers as he pats your shoulder to calm you down. He forces you to sit again. He smiles awkwardly to the nearby patrons who listen at your squabble. “And we are in a public place.”

“Then explain yourself.” You cross your arms over your chest impatiently.

Your food arrives as he opens his mouth. The waiter puts your food happily, but senses the tension between you two, leaving hurriedly after Taehyung thanks her.

Taehyung sighs, “I can’t explain everything to you. I just want to tell you that Park Chanyeol is dangerous.”

“Why?”

He gulps. He really shouldn’t do this. He shouldn’t tell you. He is risking his job, he knows it. But he can’t let you be in danger. Somehow, after many nights shared with you, you became one of the most important people to him. Only God knows why. “I can’t tell you. But you should trust me.”

You snort. “Right, just tell me that. I trust you completely!” You say sarcastically. You look at him carefully, you can see that he still doesn’t want to tell you anything. “You know what, this dinner is a bad idea. I wanted to talk with Taehyung, not this Taehyung.”

You grab your purse and rise from your seat and he grabs your wrist tightly before you walk away. “Wait! I am serious, Y/N.”

“I don’t see why I should trust you. I only knew you for several weeks.”

He hisses. “Okay, that’s so unfair. You can’t just throw me away like I don’t mean anything to you.”

“Then explain to me!” you yell.

Taehyung diverts his eyes from you. “I can’t, muffin. You must trust me.”

You gulp, trying to hold yourself from breaking apart. This is frustrating for you. How come he told you to trust him but didn’t give you any explanations? You trusted him, you trusted him to give you support. But now, the trust is gone. “I don’t trust you anymore.”

Taehyung feels a stab in his chest. Suddenly the memory of your shared hug with Chanyeol clouds Taehyung’s mind. It is nauseating. It is maddening. He grits his teeth and looks at your eyes. “Oh, and you trust him? Is that why you were so friendly to him?”

You furrow your brows. “What’s that supposed to mean?” You try to jerk his hand off you but his grip tightens.

He glares at you. His eyes are full of rage and you can see the pain in his eyes. “You barely know this guy, and suddenly you trust him more than me?”

Your jaw drops. “This isn’t about you. Who are you to tell me what to do?”

He gives a half-smile and tightens his grip, so painful it makes you wince. “You know what Y/N? I really think that your ‘I hate men’ it’s not real at all. You just made it up.”

Your hands tighten into a fist. “You know nothing about me.”

He chuckles. “Oh, I know a few things, muffin.” He waits for your reply, but as he sees you bite your lips tightly, he continues. “It’s just your defense mechanism. You knew that when your ex cheated on you, you were at fault. And yet you want to blame him.”

“Stop.”

“Then you told people that so you can have better self-esteem, trying to save your own ego.”

You fight back your tears as your breath races in this humiliation. “Stop it.”

Taehyung smirks. “Oh, my bad. It’s not because of that. You are just a slut, right? You make this excuse to get men into bed. I agree that sometimes having baggage or complex is sexy bu-“

You grab your glass of ice tea and throw it to him. You are unaware of how all of the patrons gawk at your action. Your tears have fallen down to your cheeks. Your face turns red in shame and rage. You feel a sting in your heart when he looks at you back. You need to get out of there quickly. “I don’t want to see you anymore.” You release yourself from him forcefully and wipe your tears with the back of your hand. You then pull some bills from your purse and slam it on the table. “As I promise, my treat.”

You walk away in silence, leaving him wet and mad.

Taehyung tightens his hand. What the fuck did I say to her? He then slams his fist on the table, making all of the patrons who watch him look away. He sighs and runs his hand into his hair in exasperation. He didn’t want this to happen. He didn’t want to make you cry. He just wants you to stop going to the event. Sure, the vision of you hugged Chanyeol may be affecting his decision for a bit. He is doomed.

He hates how you’re affecting his actions.

He hates how you can make him lose his mind.

He hates that Hoseok is right.

He hates how you are not just a palate cleanser for him.

taglist: @gee-nee @jaienn @kb-bangtanenthusiast​ @w0lfqu33n​

taglist still open!

[everywhereallofthetime]

Some Girl ... Part 6

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: None, really. A few cuss words?

// * // * //

Sunday / July 18th

The next morning, after Sebastian nursed, Elisa took him, telling Charlotte to go back to sleep for a while. When Charlotte woke again, a couple of hours later, she crawled into the shower, replaying in her mind and in her heart everything that had happened the day before.

She wondered if- when, she corrected, Shawn would call.

As she was walking downstairs, she heard it before she saw it. In Wonder. Elisa, with Sebastian on her lap, Jack, and Mason were all parked in front of the television watching Shawn’s documentary.

“Do you have something you want to tell me?” Mason asked between mouthfuls of cereal.

Charlotte plopped down beside him on the couch, almost making him spill his bowl. “Peter’s name is actually Shawn?”

She looked over at Elisa, who handed Sebastian to her. Elisa then shrugged her shoulders and stated, “You said you both wanted everyone to know the truth. And sooner is better than later, right? Especially if you plan to bring him around more often.”

“My mind is a little blown here, Charlie,” Mason said. “Why didn’t you just say, ‘hey everyone, this is my boyfriend, Shawn’?” he asked, slightly perplexed.

“Because he’s not my boyfriend!” she exclaimed.

“I told you,” Elisa said, dryly.

“We’re just friends, no matter how you may have perceived things.”

Mason chose to keep certain further thoughts to himself, at least for the time being, and asked again, “All right then, why didn’t you just introduce him as a friend of yours? I guess I can understand why you introduced him as Peter, but why Bash’s dad? Shit. He’s not actually Bash’s dad, is he??”

“No,” she chuckled. “He is most definitely not Bash’s dad.” She then sighed softly. “You’ve been watching the documentary. It looks like you’ve passed the heavily centric Camila part. They broke up less than four months ago. Yesterday was a bad day. All he wanted was to forget for a little while and be around people who didn't know him so he could try to feel normal again. I didn’t actually mean to introduce him as Bash’s dad. That was just...an accident.”

“Or wishful thinking.”

“Shut up, Mason,” she grumbled, feeling her cheeks grow hot. She shot a glance at Elisa. “I’m fine.” She needed everyone to stop thinking she was in love with Shawn.

“You’re very quiet, Uncle Jack,” she said then.

“I already told him everything,” Elisa said.

That didn’t surprise her. As far as she was aware, Elisa and Jack had never kept secrets from one another. “I’m sorry I lied you,” she said to her uncle. She then glanced at Mason again. “All of you.”

Jack smiled softly and reached over to pat her knee. “You’re forgiven, Sweetheart, don’t worry about it. I understand. Just maybe don’t lie to us again?”

“I promise. For what it’s worth, aside from introducing him as Peter, which is actually his middle name, and pretending he was Bash’s dad, Shawn was his honest self. He truly is that lovely and kind. He has an amazing heart.”

“You let him know he’s welcome here anytime,” Jack said, and Elisa nodded in agreement.

Mason laughed. “I can't believe Shawn Mendes was in our fucking house!”

“Yes, and he enjoyed dinner with us. He spent time with our family. He let his guard down and he laughed with us.” There was an edge creeping into her voice. “He pretty much put Bash to bed. You lent him your shorts after he swam with us. You played darts and poker with him. You got drunk with him and he even helped your ass to bed!” Charlotte was agitated, causing Sebastian to get upset, too. She calmed her voice and hugged her son to her, soothing his back. “He's just Shawn,” she whispered, standing with Sebastian, and quickly left the room.

Mason followed after her, into the kitchen. No one had expected her to have a mini meltdown. Even she was surprised at herself.

"I'm sorry, Char. You're right.” He quickly rinsed his bowl and spoon and put them in the dishwasher. He turned and leaned up against it and the countertop. When Charlotte actually looked at him again, he said, “I shouldn't let who he is change anything from last night."

“You just proved why he was too nervous to tell you the truth, as badly as he wanted to. He was feeling awful about lying to everyone.”

“You like him a lot, eh?”

“Don't you start too,” she groaned, giving Sebastian over to Mason so she could fix herself something to eat.

Mason gently tossed Sebastian into the air and then blew raspberries into his neck. “I know, I know. You’re just friends. But you kissed him, and he kissed you back. And you guys were like, really close almost all night.”

“I swear, this is the exact conversation I had with Mom and Didi last night.”

“Are you sure-”

She cut him off quickly. “Stop.”

“But-”

“Nope.”

“Has he had his rebound yet?”

“I don’t know,” she huffed, slightly exasperated. “He doesn’t talk to me the same way as he might his guys friends. He’s too polite to tell me how many women he may have nailed after Camila broke his heart. I don’t think I’d want to know anyway.”

Charlotte sat down at the kitchen island. “I don’t plan on being a rebound either, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Mason buckled Sebastian into his Bumbo and started mixing his oatmeal. “I’m not worried. He promised me he wouldn’t hurt you. He promised he would never do anything to make me hate him.”

“What?” She paused, mid-bite of her peanut butter and banana English muffin. “When were those promises made?”

“When he helped my ass to bed,” he chuckled. “I weirdly, vividly remember that part of the night. He cares about you. He’s a good guy.”

Charlotte fell into her own thoughts while she continued eating.

“How did you even meet him?” Mason asked, drawing her attention again. He slid a spoonful of cereal into Sebastian’s mouth.

She didn't exactly answer. Instead she said, “He lives downtown, like one kilo from my place.” She would let him draw his own conclusions.

“I have to tell Josh and Dougie and Rob.”

“If Didi hasn't already told everyone...

“Please don’t make a big deal out of it. I actually would like to bring him around again. Josh, Dougie, and Rob are common fixtures around here in the summertime. There are six weeks of summer left. I need them to be cool with him.”

“They’ll be fine. It’s Val and the twins you have to worry about.”

“Ugh, I know,” she groaned.

“They’re totally going to want to hang out with you now," he smirked.

// * // * //

Charlotte lingered in the archway between the kitchen and family room, Sebastian on her hip, Mason at her side for support.

Elisa paused the documentary; Charlotte noticed they had almost finished it.

“Shawn’s concert on Netflix is from his sold out show at the Rogers Centre two years ago. You might like to watch that sometime. I was there, with Val and the twins actually, - it was probably the last time we did anything together.

“Anyway...

“Bash just finished his cereal. I’m going to nurse him a little and see if he’ll go down for a nap. And I thought I’d run a load of laundry while he sleeps, before we head home.”

“Okay honey,” Elisa said.

She shifted from one foot to the other. “I also thought maybe it might be time that I tell you about Booker. Bash’s real dad.”

If they were surprised, they didn't show it. Jack just nodded.

Charlotte started towards the stairs. Mason called after her, “By the way, I threw Shawn’s shorts and boxers in your laundry.”

She blushed bright red.

“What?? I thought he was your boyfriend!”

// * // * //

Shawn strolled into the kitchen late Sunday morning, singing to himself. Nothing in particular, just a few runs like he normally did when he was warming up his voice. His younger sister, Aaliyah, almost eighteen and starting college in the fall, was sitting on top of the kitchen island, her phone in hand, texting her boyfriend.

She looked up, surprised, suddenly overwhelmed that her big brother was smiling and singing. She never imagined how much she would have missed hearing his voice until it had been absent for too long.

He wrapped his arms around her and gave her a big hug. “Morning bub,” he murmured. He then opened the fridge and drank the orange juice right out of the carton. He grabbed a muffin and jumped up to sit beside her on the island countertop.

“You seem happy,” she said softly, grinning fiercely, tears in her eyes. She quickly wiped them away.

“I had a good night,” he grinned back and kissed her temple.

“You just disappeared yesterday; we were worried. And then you didn’t get home until well after one. Were you out with Matt?”

“I was not. I made some new friends.”

“That’s not some weird code for-”

“Bub!” he shouted. “No! Oh my God!”

“You always tell me I can say anything to you,” she laughed.

“I know, but you don’t always have to remind me how grown up you are.”

She wrapped her arm around his waist and he hugged her around the shoulders.

“I’m going to go for a run with Tarzan. I’ll be back before lunch,” he said, shoving the last of his muffin in his mouth, jumping off the counter, and slipping his AirPods into his ears. “Love you!” he called over his shoulder as he jogged off.

// * // * //

Part 7

[utterlyinevitable]

Hey! Please could you do Ethan bringing up exclusivity with Becca as mentioned in Above Board? Thanks 🥰

eventually happened a lot sooner than expected... just couldn’t get the story out of my head! 

Above Board (Part 2) 

Part 1

Word Count: 1.2k Warning: fluff  Summary: Ethan coaxes Becca into talking about exclusivity. 

A/N: Thanks for the request @queencarb 💞

________________________________________

On their only day off together a week later, Becca and Ethan were comfortably in his kitchen slaving over a much-needed early lunch. She had conned him into staying in bed until 11AM, well past his natural wake up at dawn. 

She had taken over the reigns of making lunch because Ethan’s scrambled eggs were “just a bit too buttery. You’re meant to chew the eggs not drink them”. 

Graciously he handed over the spatula and watched the woman of his dreams prance around his old bachelor pad. Ethan took up residency at the stool towards the edge of the island. 

There was something that had been plaguing his mind since their dinner at the hospital last week. He hoped Becca was still reveling in her morning ecstasy so that she wouldn’t chide him and just be truthful. He needed honesty. 

With a strong mug of coffee in hand Ethan dared to ask, “So... you and the EMT.”    

“What about him?” 

Ethan makes a care to explain motion before sipping on his drink.  

“It was a thing,” Becca explained for the hundredth time that week with a sigh. She turned back to flip the bacon and added, “A brief thing.” 

Becca inaudibly cursed herself for telling Ethan about Raf. They were having too nice of a morning to ruin it with a pointless tiff about her past fling. 

“You said you have a type. What could we possibly have in common?” 

Ah. She realized what this was actually about. Ethan Ramsey wanted reassurance. He wanted to talk about their non-relationship relationship. She’d been waiting months for this sort of conversation.

Becca happily spun on her bare tiptoes to face him. Chocolate brown eyes adoringly took in the sight before her. The modelesque crystal eyed man sat in only yesterday’s green briefs, his hair fluffy and still leaning in the direction of her fingers from earlier, the nearly four decades worth of lines etched on his face smoothed with relaxation save for the telling crows feet.  

“I never said you were my type” she joked with crossed arms and a critical eye. 

Ethan placed his mug back down on the table. 

They gawked at one another for a moment before Becca continued, “I like the way he made me feel. He’s comforting and easy to talk to when life got rough.” She turned her attention back to the bacon, shifting them to dry on a paper towel. “He took me to incredible places around the city, the kinds only locals would know of... We had fun. It was easy and not… complex. Just two people hanging out.” She readied the whisked eggs to meet the sizzling pan. “And the Superman complex was really hot.” She waited to hear the scoff that never came. When it didn’t she looked over her shoulder and sent a wink Ethan’s way. “Rafs a good guy. I’m glad he and Sora found their way back to each other.”

Ethan sat in silence with pursed lips as he artfully dissected her words.  

“But that doesn’t matter now. It’s in the past.” Becca plated up the bacon, eggs and diced tomatoes on a bit of toast for each of them. 

Ethan watched as she set the plate readily in front of him. He nodded in approval - Becca was not a kitchen connoisseur but she could muster up the basics. 

She pressed a feathered kiss to his temple. “You are my future.” The adoration between them flowed freely in part with the cosmic waves around them. Just two people divinely connected.  

He smiled as he leaned into her hand on his stubbled cheek. 

“Anyway… the sultry grump is a hell of a lot hotter than Superman.” 

With a light tap to his cheek Becca took her place on the stool beside him, ready to dig in. The activities of the last fourteen hours had her absolutely famished.  

Ethan continued their conversation on a new tangent, “But we aren’t together.”

Becca’s eyes went wide, a mix of shock with confusion. What does he think we are?

When she found chewing a more suitable task than replying, Ethan broadly asked, “What are we doing?”  

“Eating?” she mumbled through a bite.  

He shot her a serious look. 

She knew what he meant but she was tired of always taking the first steps. In the comfort of Ethan’s apartment, the apartment she spent 6 out of 7 days a week at for god knows how long, Becca didn’t want to guess anymore. The last year of their secret dates and inherent understanding of one another gave her the security to ask for honesty. 

“Out with it,” she demanded, “What are you getting at?” 

“What are we? Since we can’t… be together, not in that way.”  

What way? Was he speaking of the way she and Raf were able to mix their personal and professional lives so easily? Or was it the way Rafael could take her out around town unafraid of consequences. She and Ethan were together in the ways that mattered. 

“What do you think we are, Ethan?” 

His head hung low, pushing the eggs around his plate as he debated his answer. Ethan Ramsey knew Rebecca Lao was a once in a lifetime occurrence - she was his partner in every aspect of the sense. There was no one that could satisfy him like she could. In normal convention they were dating, in a juvenile form Becca was his girlfriend. In the real world there were still complications to figure out. 

“More than a ‘thing’.”

Becca smirked at his use of the word, “Is that so?” 

“Hopefully.” Ethan said it so low, all his vulnerabilities were on display. Although he never said the three word and eight letter phrase out loud he showed her it every moment of every day.  

Becca swiveled to give Ethan her full attention. “I don’t care what we officially are or aren’t, Ethan. As long as we get to be like this,” she motioned around them, “together every day, I’m happy.” She reached out to cup his face in her petite hands. “I’m in love with you.” She caressed the lines along his jaw with her thumbs, trailing over to his supple and still swollen lips. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m yours, DTR’d or not.”  

His brows furrowed in the most adorable way - the way that reminded her of his age and how he shied away from social media culture. “DTR’d?” 

Her fingers tangled in the hair at the back of his neck fondly, “Defined the relationship.”  

“Are we in middle school now?” 

His infectious crooked smirk imprinted on her. 

Ethan took the bait and ran with it, “In that case, I assume that makes you my girlfriend.” 

Her eyes squinted in great consideration, “Hm… pass.” 

Ethan raised an eyebrow. He knew she was joking but it also wasn’t the reaction he expected. Notorious loner Ethan Ramsey just professed his intentions to Rebecca Lao. He wanted to date her - he was dating her without titles. He wanted and expected her to be bouncing around excitedly, like a child unwrapping their most coveted present on Christmas morning. 

Instead with a bit of comfortable courage Becca laughed, “We both know I’m practically your wife.” 

To her surprise Ethan didn’t shudder or backtrack, or disappear from her grasp like he’s so prone to do.

“Wishful thinking, Rookie” he grinned.  

She leaned in closer, stroking a few strands of hair out of his face. With great confidence she noted, “I’ll get your autograph eventually, Dr. Ramsey. Right next to mine and two witnesses.” 

Ethan kissed her tenderly. 

They both knew that she was right. 

________________________________________

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[cantgetoutofmyheda]

Falling in Love in a Quarantine: Part 11

OP | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 9.5 | Part 10

---

PART 11: Day 23

To say that Lexa was overwhelmed would be an understatement. She had spent the better part of her morning, pushing her actual work aside, to embark on her day’s project—setting up the grill and the furniture she bought for the deck.

Annoyed that she forgot to click the little box on the website to pay extra for assembly, she tried to bargain with the delivery guys, but had no avail. Instead, she sat out in the grueling sun and decided to face her fate.

Her goal was to get the setup completed by the time Clarke came home from work. To have a perfectly grilled dinner set up to eat outside and enjoy the new purchases, but without the help of anyone else, despite how handy she was, she was having a bit of a difficult time.

Between Sandy running up to her and plopping into her lap, knocking things around, and her phone constantly going off with messages and emails from her colleagues, hours had passed and she was barely halfway done with the task at hand.

“Fucking finally,” she huffed. Hands on her hips, as she proudly admired the final setup of the grill and table. All that was left were the six chairs, and she would finally be done. She started unloading the boxes, until her ringtone interrupted the task.

She looked down and saw that a Facetime was coming in from Anya. Excited to show off the fruits of her labor, she happily picked up, “Ahn, look at what I just did.” Without even seeing her face, Lexa turned on her back-camera to scan the backyard, “Doesn’t it look awesome?”

“Let me see your face, you loser,” Anya’s voice boomed.

“What?” Lexa answered as she flipped the camera. “Jealous of my handy work for the new setup?”

“Griff’s gotten you to do her dirty work, I see,” Anya smirked. “Looks good, though. Sucks she didn’t spring the cost for assembly, but I guess that’s what she has you for.”

Lexa rolled her eyes, “I’m the idiot that forgot to add on the assembly, but it’s fine. She swiped a bead of sweat on her forehead, “I’m quite skilled, you know. An all-around Jack of all trades.”

Anya raised a brow, “You forgot to add it on, huh?” She threw Lexa a smirk, “What, so Griff gave you her credit card and told you to pick out some new backyard toys? That’s cute. And awfully domestic.”

“No,” Lexa glared in annoyance. “We were at Abby’s for lunch yesterday and hung out in the backyard, and I had grill-envy, so I ordered it while we were there.”

“I see,” Anya nodded, her smirk still ever-present.

“What, Ahn?” Lexa blankly stared.

“Nothing,” Anya shrugged. “Like I said—cute and awfully domestic. Glad to see that you’re financially splitting household appliances.”

“It’s not like that,” Lexa rolled her eyes. “And plus, even after this is all over, you know we’re all going to be here all the time anyway. It’s essentially for everyone.”

“You’ve never bought me a grill and lawn furniture,” Anya teased. “But I guess you’ve never had the hots for me.”

“I have literally never said that I have the hots for Clarke, Ahn,” Lexa huffed. “Stop putting words in my mouth.”

“But you didn’t deny it,” Anya pointed out.

Lexa rolled her eyes. The annoyance was still present, and she was thankful the view from her phone didn’t show the blush creeping up her neck, knowing that Anya was actually right, “When are you going to give this a rest.”

“When you finally admit that you have feelings for Griff,” Anya knowingly shrugged.

Lexa shook her head again, “Change the subject or I’m hanging up. I have six chairs to put together and as daunting as that’s going to be, it feels like it would be more fun than having this conversation with you.”

“Ouch,” Anya feigned hurt. “I was just calling to check up on you. Raven mentioned she hadn’t heard from Clarke in a few days, and that made me realize I hadn’t heard from you in a few either. Just wanted to make sure you were both alive, but apologies for being a good friend.”

“Oh, yeah,” Lexa’s expression softened. After their Saturday morning escapade, the two spent the day phone-free enjoying each other’s company. She just realized that the time at Abby’s the previous day had also been the same, “Sorry, we were just watching movies all weekend without our phones and then went to Abby’s yesterday.”

“I can’t believe you guys went to Abby’s but won’t come hang with us or let us come there,” Anya let out. It had been three weeks, and other members of their friend group had started to see each other in each other’s backyards. Almost everyone had spent a little time together, other than Lexa and Clarke.

“Ahn,” Lexa replied. “You guys knew that we wouldn’t be able to see anyone. Not with Clarke going into work as much as she has been. It’s not necessarily safe. Or smart.”

“I still can’t believe you decided to shack up there, knowing it meant you’d be closed off to the world,” Anya sighed. “You could have come here or something.”

“I’d rather not third wheel with any of you,” Lexa let out a small laugh. “Plus, it wouldn’t be fair for Clarke to ride this out on her own. You knew I wouldn’t let that happen.”

“I know, Lex,” Anya sighed. “I know.”

“How are you and Raven holding up?” Lexa changed the subject.

Anya nodded, “Good, yeah. Everything’s good over here.”

“Glad to hear it,” Lexa offered a smile. “I’ve gotta run, though. Need to get these things put together so I can do some actual work.”

“Alright, Lex,” Anya smiled back. “Best of luck on your endeavors. Send pictures to the group, I’m sure everyone’s going to be excited for post-quarantine backyard activities.”

“Ha,” Lexa scoffed. “And potentially re-live the teasing I just got from you? Fat chance.”

Anya shrugged, “I’m going to stop myself from saying what I want to say. See ya, loser.”

“I appreciate that,” Lexa rolled her eyes. “Bye, Ahn.”

---

“What’s all this?” Clarke walked into the backyard to see the table set and Lexa standing at the grill.

“Damn,” Lexa muttered. “I wanted to have it all ready by the time you got back. It’ll just be a few more minutes, sorry.”

Clarke made her way over to the grill, admiring the table and setup on the way. She wrapped her arms around Lexa’s shoulders from behind and placed a soft kiss on the side of her neck, “Everything looks amazing.”

It was uncharted territory for them—going from friends to something more. They had spent the weekend acting like teenagers on the couch, but this was new. Coming home from work and the soft and gentle hellos. Neither of them felt like anything was out of place. If anything, everything was starting to feel right.

Lexa leaned her head onto Clarke’s, “How was your day?”

“Judging by how my backyard looks, probably equally busy as yours,” Clarke laughed. She stepped back after another kiss found its way onto Lexa. “Can I help you with anything?”

“Pour the wine?” Lexa asked from over her shoulder. “I got a bottle of that red blend you like.”

The gesture brought a smile to Clarke’s face, “I could get used to this.”

“As if I’m not always like this with you, anyway,” Lexa scoffed.

“Yeah, but now I can kiss you as a thank you,” Clarke shrugged as she poured the glasses.

Lexa walked over with a smile on her face and a tray of freshly grilled kebabs, “I guess I could used to it too, then. Show me what you’ve got, Griffin.”

Clarke waited until the tray hit the table to pull Lexa in. Arms were wrapped around each other and lips finally met. Everything was finally starting to feel right.

[joshslater]

The Reformatory

A rewrite of jd07201990′s swimmer story. Similar stories and bonus material on my Patreon.

T -1

Dear diary or however you are supposed to start.

So tomorrow is the big day. Dad and I are sleeping at a Holiday Inn at the other side of the state. Well, I'm obviously not sleeping. How could I? So I thought I should start a journal of some sort to document this experience.

Some background. Two months ago I was in a fight with Mark Samberg on the football team. It had gotten pretty bad between the football schmucks and us swimmers. The jockheads were constantly harassing us, calling us fags and prissy boys. It happened often and was getting boring. As the captain of the swim team I asked Mark to knock it off and get his players in line. Idiot as he is he tried to knock me out instead, and I lost it. In our scramble I managed to knock him down and was about to kick him in the shin when he shifted and instead I connected with his knee. Apparently it fractured. He'll be able to walk and even run, but he'll not be able to play again for years, so he lost his Scholarship.

His family sued everyone they could. Me, the school, the swim coach. In the end all the lawyers sat down in a room with a local judge and came up with something they all could agree to. Mark gets some study assistance to get his grades up, the school had this quickly brushed under the carpet, and could pretend I was never student there. Me not graduating wasn’t really a blow, as my college fund now went to pay for Mark’s education, as compensation. They were rich enough to afford it anyway, but they wanted to see punishment. I get the honor to spend the next 180 days at the Lepinski Adolescence Reformation Center, where I will "participate in all scheduled exercises, activities, therapies, meals and medication programs". They can tack on some extra days for bad behavior without going back to the judge, but essentially I get 6 months at bad boy camp for standing up to bullies.

What will I do there? No idea. The website talks a lot about work ethics and responsibility and working together with the local community. Sounds like labor camp to me. I'll guess we'll know tomorrow. But first we have to visit the hospital for a check up. My first day in prison will mostly not be in prison!

Day 1, Monday

We started with a checkup at the hospital, and man did they do a thorough job. Our appointment was at 10, but before that I had to fill out a form with 100 questions. The doctor spent more than 30 minutes doing the most extensive check I've ever had. Not only that, but after the check we had to go to the sample lab to draw blood, and finally I had a CT scan at noon. After that, and a quick lunch, we drove to the actual reformation center, which was in a smaller town 2 hours away.

It's an old boarding school building that they've turned into this "Reformation Center", and it clearly looks more like a prison than a school. Just a heap of two story brick and concrete buildings out in nowhere. Not much of security, but then everyone was there "voluntarily", meaning that we all had a proper punishment waiting for us if we left. I hugged dad goodbye and was shown to Mr. Kerwin’s office by the entrance guard.

Mr. Kerwin was a lean, ripped man in his forties that oozed military discipline. He explained that he was responsible for my rehabilitation and that he wouldn't start soft. He would give me a packed schedule, and if I didn't pull my weight he would add more days for "noncompliance". If I didn't like it I could run back to judge Stephenson and ask to start over in juvie.

Perhaps that would be better, because the schedule he showed me was totally insane.

4:30-5:00  Breakfast 5:00-8:00  Exercise pass 1 8:00-12:00 Work pass 1 12:00-12:30 Lunch 12:30-14:30 School 14:30-17:30 Work pass 2 17:30-18:00 Dinner 18:00-21:00 Exercise pass 2 21:30       Lights out

He explained that my breakfast, lunch and dinner would be pre-portioned and I was required to eat all of it. The exercise passes would be lead by himself or one of the assistants. Again, I would have to follow every instruction. The work passes were done at local businesses that wanted an extra hand, and changed depending on demand. The school passes were done as a group on whatever subject Mr. Reed selected.

Next he ordered me to get naked and place all my clothes on top of my bag and move to the other side of the room. Having done so he pointed at a stack of clothes on the table and told me to pick my size and get dressed. I quickly dressed in one of the track suits from the table. There was a baseball cap also, which confused me, but was told that it was instead of sunglasses when working outdoor.

With that I was given a rule book to study and was led by an assistant to my room where a dinner was waiting. Turkey, rice, water. I was reminded of lights out at 21:30 and wake up at 4:30. The assistant left and locked the door. 10 minutes later he came back with my journal book and pen, and told me that they'll keep the rest for now.

Having eaten the dinner and having three hours (I'm almost sure 21:30 is 9:30 PM) to kill before the lights go out I'm now summarizing the day. I'm sitting in something very similar to a prison cell. Bed, toilet, sink. Everything is clean, though somewhat worn. Looking into the mirror is kind of depressing though. I look like some jailed gang member.

It's kind of weird that I haven't met any of the other inmates, sorry students, here. I saw some of them while coming in, but perhaps this is their kind of hazing, or they do an official presentation tomorrow. Anyway, I should study the rule book and go to bed, since I didn't sleep much last night.

Day 2, Tuesday

So much to write about, so little time. I might have to split this into several entries since lights out is in 20 minutes.

I was awaken at 4:30 and given a tray with a large bowl of porridge and berries and some chalky smoothie or shake or whatever to drink. After that an assistant lead me to the gym room where we went over various machines, mainly for cardio. Elliptical, bike, treadmill. Weird thing was that it was only us two in the room during all three hours.

Sweaty and a bit tired I was then taken outside to a bus where some of the other boys where chilling. Apparently everyone else had breakfast between 7 and 8. They had no idea why I didn't join them there. The bus then drove around town and the driver announced who should exit where. My group of four people exited at a farm before town, only about 5 minutes away. I don't know exactly since I haven't been given my watch back.

There we spent hours just moving hay. Don't they know about tractors? Sweaty, itchy, tired and hungry we were then picked up and driven back. At lunch was the first time I saw the real common area. To my surprise there were more boys there than had been on the bus.

Everyone else could pick what they wanted from what was served, but I was given a ready tray with an heap of salmon and pasta. I was starving though, so it wasn't a problem to eat it all. I didn't have much time to talk, but the guys at my table were nice. Somewhat rough, as could be expected. Apparently you were chosen for the different work assignments, and if you were not picked you stayed at the center for sports or craft or similar things.

After Lunch followed a session with Mr. Reed. The first boring hour was on English grammar and the second boring hour on US geography. I aced the quizz getting all 50 states and state capitols right, so I didn't learn anything new after that. Then Mr. Reed announced who had work assignments, and I was again selected.

This time I and Troy were dropped off at a different farm where we spent almost three hours helping with fencing. Mainly carry posts and sawing them to length.

For dinner I had some meatballs with roasted sweet potatoes while everyone else had meatballs with tomato sauce. Mr. Kerwin picked me up and led me to the gym. Unlike the morning session this was all about weight training. Most of it was on finding my limits for different exercises while Mr. Kerwin pointed out how I could improve my form. You could tell that this was what he liked to do, and encouraged me to push a bit further. Once we were done I had a bottle of post workout mix of some sort and a very quick shower before rushing back to my room.

Here's the thing. My room is on a different floor than the other guys. Also, my schedule appears to be different and much more rigid than the rest of the guys. I also

Day 3, Wednesday

I couldn't finish the last entry before they cut the light. My entire body is in pain right now. I woke up like that, and it didn't go away all day. Same schedule as yesterday, but different tasks and different dishes. The assistant really pushed today during the morning session, so I was exhausted already at the bus. Planting bushes at the city park all morning didn't help. I got some rest during Reeds rehash of elementary math. Then back to doing fences, and top it all off with weight training. I asked Mr. Kerwin about the schedule and why it was so different from everyone else’s. He said that everyone's schedule is individual and that he'll adjust mine as needed.

One more weird thing before I fall to sleep. Everyone else is using their normal clothes. I haven't gotten mine back yet.

Day 4, Thursday

FUCK! I was back on moving hay today again, with Sam, Trevor and Rick. I'm still hurting like hell and Rick is one lazy motherfucker, so old fart Farmer Joe decided to complain. The end result is that I am getting 2 days added for noncompliance. Sam, Trevor and Rick got nothing. WTF!

Day 5, Friday

We were carrying merchandise all morning and Troy heckled me on how I got more days because of the piece of shit Rick. But he then said that it was a weird coincidence that every work shift I've been on has been the toughest one.

Instead of going to class I met with the doctor from the hospital who made a visit. He asked me about how I felt, where I was sore etc. Then he gave me an injection which he said would ease things for me. I didn't feel much different, but I was getting really sleepy getting back to Mr. Reeds class, but it might just be that everything he did was too simple and boring.

Apparently while I had a check up Troy had shared his theory about me being a work magnet, so there were some groans from the guys placed in my group. God damn fence work again.

Man, I'm tired. I was tired even before Mr. Kerwin gave me the toughest weight pass ever. Fuck, I'm tired.

Day 6, Saturday

So the weekend schedule is different. There is still a morning work pass, basically only used by the local farmers. But the afternoon is free both on Saturdays and Sundays. Conditions and terms applies, apparently. Since I haven't done any cleaning or dishes all week (how could I?), I'm assigned washing clothes, sheets etc. Man, how much better it is to carry laundry than hay. Best job assignment all week. Lots of downtime. Only real drawback is all the humidity. It’s steamy AF here.

Still fucking 3h workout pass in the morning and evening. The other boys were pretty vocal in mocking me on my way to the gym.

Day 7, Sunday

So the day started out as any other so far. Woke up sore. Breakfast alone and 3 hour gym session. There are no work passes outside LARC on Sundays, so I was hit with cleaning, together with Kyle G. and Rick. Rick ghosted after like three minutes, but KG did a solid work. It took us all the time til lunch though to finish it.

Then my first free couple of hours all week. It’s insane. The other guys were low key avoiding me, so I did what Mr. Kerwin had suggested and had a walk in the forest. It was actually kind of nice, and for some weird reason I didn’t feel like sitting still.

Day 8, Monday

Same shit again. Mr. Kerwin gave me a shot in the arm this evening. Apparently I’ll have one each Monday from now on. Whatever.

Also I found out today that the others don’t have formal lights out. I’m on my own floor so they can lock me up and cut the power. What the fuck?

Day 9, Tuesday

That fucker Rick slacked off again, taunting me about another two days. Ha! I got 10. Mostly for kicking him in the teeth. They locked me in my room, so I had lunch there and sat in this boring ass cell during class and work. Fuck, I don’t know what’s worse. I had to do some body weight exercises to keep sane. Fuck this shit.

Back again. I still got to have my evening workout. Kerwin was pushing harder than ever. The order of exercises was different too. Apparently to make the major muscles tired so smaller muscle groups then get to work. Or something. I don’t give a shit.

Day 11, Thursday

They fucking work now, don’t they the little shits. They know I ruined someones career to get here and another one for slacking off. They better pull there weight

Day 14, Sunday

I think I’ll stick to just write on Sundays. There is only half an hour from evening gym to lights out, so there isn’t much time for writing. I’ve even skipped shower a few times. It’s not like it matters when you start every fucking day getting soaked with cardio. Not like there are any girls around to impress either. Sunday has a different vibe tho. Cleaning, running in the forest and taking a long shower.

Starts and ends with fucking gym time though.

Day 21, Sunday

I really fucking like the forest runs. Its like you don’t have to think and can just run wherever and grab whatever and smash whatever. Fucking love it

Day 28, Sunday

Yay! A full fucking month!

It’s crazy though how much stronger I’m. I have gone up one size larger track suite and 2 sizes larger sneakers. Working hard to make me the best I guess.

Day 42, Sunday

guess i forgot about writing last week. i think the monday shots make me angry or something because last week fucked up someone else on tuesday. at least they all give me fucking respect at least.

Day 92, Monday

i dont give a shit abot reeds borin ass lessons and they fuckin repeat on a loop or some shit. today he was back on gramr and the states. i most time dont fill out his shit but wanted to do it again today. fucking aced most of the states. not so good on the capitols tho

Day 203, Sunday

only 2 weeks left tomorrow lol then im gonna yeet the fuck outta here !!!! adios motherfuckas

Mr. Kerwin enters the room, carrying a folder, and walks behind his desk, not even looking at me. I am sitting in his precious fucking antique chair I pulled from the corner. He’s sitting his ass down, rifles through the papers in the folder and starts to read from one of them.

“John Hamlin agrees to 180 days of rehabilitation training at the Lepinski Adolescence Reformation Center, where he will participate in all scheduled exercises, activities, therapies, meals and medication programs, with a possible extension of 30 days for noncompliance and a possible extension of 60 days for infractions as described by the Juvenile Rehabilitation Act (JuRA), section 1103 (b).”

He looks up at me. It sounded like easy shit when I said yes to it. I thought half a year in a bad boy summer camp, or worst case something like prison, but that would have been miles better than this fucking non-stop hard labor shit. And 180 days was a fucking joke. They never fucking intended that to be the actual time. Have someone else slack off and the slap another 2 days to the time. Kick a chair to pieces, 5 days. Punch a guy for being a cunt, 10 days. I’m close to having another fucking outburst again. It must be all that fucking shit they put in the food or shakes or whatever. I fight it. I don’t want to show any emotion in front of him. I don’t think he buys my shit.

“There is another document in the agreement that you haven’t heard. This one between Mark and judge Andrews.”

He pulls out another paper from the folder and read it.

“The state hereby directs Mark Samberg, or person(s) by him so designated, to design and oversee the rehabilitation program of John Hamlin to be administrated at the Lepinski Adolescence Reformation Center. This includes physical exercises, physical therapy, education, consoling, dietary plan and medication, as long as it fulfills the positive development criteria (Appendix D), is within the available services at the Lepinski Adolescence Reformation Center (Appendix A) and within the given budget (Appendix C). Additional services require external financing and approval from the Reformation Center management (Appendix B).”

That doesn’t make any fucking sense. Why the hell had the judge put Mark in charge of my schedule? I understand why he’d want to make the experience suck as much as fucking possible for me, by why had everyone agreed to it? Kerwin looks at me as if he can read an open book.

“You are wondering what has happened to you. What was the meaning of all this? Stand up.”

I jump to my feet. There are still weeks he can add to my time here, and I don’t want to give him any fucking reason to add some shit.

“Stand with your feet as close together as you can.”

He’s never asked me to do that before. I can easily tap me feet together, but I can’t really stand still with my feet right next to each other for long. What the fuck is this bullshit? My thighs are too massive for that.

“Sit down again.”

He leans back and watches me with a bemused smirk.

“Imagine that you’d been away from swimming half a year. Even if you kept in shape it would take you months to be back in good enough technique to clear the swim team tryouts. But you have not kept in shape, have you? You have a completely new shape.”

The blood is draining from my face. I understand where this is going.

“With your upper body build you can physically really only do butterfly strokes properly, but if you can’t bring your feet together the leg kick will just be a wild thrashing of water. You swimming medley would be a hilarious joke. We haven’t even talked about you almost doubling in weight, and how much more oxygen you would need to swim. Sure, you are much stronger now, but old you would swim circles around new you. And that is of course the point. If Mark couldn’t have his sports career, he didn’t want you to have yours either. And the judge agreed.”

I’m surprised that the chair doesn’t break, as hard as I’m squeezing it. I’m boiling with fucking rage. I have to really focus to not to act on it.

“Now the judge specifically set out that this transformation couldn’t be punishment in itself, but rather that you were trained in a way that just wasn’t optimal for swimming. We may have gone a bit overboard with the body building to leave you many options though. You’ll obviously never be competitive in anything with speed or agility, like football or boxing. The metabolic conditioning, hormone treatment and gene therapy have far to long lasting effects to change you back from where you are now. You could try wrestling or weight lifting though, unless you mind showing your erection through spandex.”

“What the fuck?”, I said, as much as a general question to all the things he’d said. What does metabolic conditioning mean? Gene therapy? Erections?

“The medical regimen that Marks family found for you kind of put the feet on both the gas and the break at the same time. It forces the body to grow a lot at the same time as we try to stop it, so it has to try even harder. By injecting stem cells with the right CRISPR-modified DNA we could get rapid, major and long lasting changes. Well, I say we, but all I did was to make sure you kept to the exercise regimen, for a little cash on the side… Surely you didn’t think you got larger feet and dick from eating much and working hard?”

I don’t understand exactly what they done to me, but the result is pretty fucking clear. There was no way I would swim competitively ever again, if I could even fucking swim at all now. I would come out of here looking like a fucking balloon animal muscle jock, and shedding the muscles back to where I were would take shitloads of years.

“The hormone treatment finished two weeks ago and last blood sample shows that your natural hormone levels will keep you muscled and pumped probably well into your forties. So this morning I also cut you off from all suppressive medication as well. That is going to spike your hormone levels and mess quite a bit with you, so we need to see just how badly fucked up you are before we can release you.”

“The good doctor say that you’ll be more irritable and have more excess energy than before. Both something you can work on with regular, hard exercise. But I want to see where you really are at now, so starting today you’ll have no required gym time and labor passes. You can wake up when you want, eat what you want and do what you want.”

“You said erections?”, I asked.

“Yeah, the suppression medication should have kept you limp. You haven’t jacked off while here, have you? Well, you heard what I said about gas and break and compensation. Your body has been pumping massive amounts of hormones into your blood, and will continue to do so. But now that you don’t have the suppressives anymore you should expect to be horny for the next decade or two. You’ll be nothing but a lumbering muscle dildo.”

There’s a crack somewhere inside the wood of the armrest. Fucking fourteen more days, I have to remind myself. Don’t fuck any shit up before then. If I let go of the chair I’m quite positive I will knock him the fuck out. Fourteen fucking more shit days.

[lacielre]

circles over circles, 1 (m)

SUMMARY  Your life has been pretty stable from any university task to your social life and love life, everything has been set perfectly like a plate to a dining table. but that changes when you encounter the one person you remember to feel indifferent the most—Jungkook.

PAIRING  jimin/reader, jungkook/reader

RATING  mature

GENRE  college au | smut, romance, heavy angst, friends to “enemies” to lovers, childhood friends, established relationship

WARNINGS  fingering, lots of dwelling in the past 

WORD COUNT  6.2k

PARTS  1, 2

PRESENT-DAY AUTUMN…

These past few days, you’ve always spent extended hours inside the twenty-four-seven-open campus library. Sometimes, you would even feel that the night skipped a few hours advanced into morning because you’ve drifted off to sleep. A few times. Only a few but more than thrice. But it’s difficult not to when it’s purely quiet, only a number of flickered lights to brighten up the tables and shelves, and most importantly, just at the right temperature amid this tiptoeing winter that’s only a few steps away.

Tonight, making use of the nap you had from the noon of yesterday, you exit the library around 5AM. You have some hours to jog back to your dorm then take a short snooze before your classes start.  

On the march home, you take a stop at a small independent coffee shop a few blocks away from your building to take-out breakfast for you and your roommate, Seulgi, whose classes are always at 7:30 in the morning. A torture for the nursing student you share your space with.  

Twenty-minute walks to the dorm are beneficial; they stand as your exercise, you convince yourself. If someone asks if you ever do anything to become fit, you can just say you “jog” daily when all you do is lazily drag your feet across the damp asphalt through the fog thickly peppered on the air.

With hands full of two paper bags, one barely clipped on your elbow and a drink carrier of two cups of hot coffee hanging from your left hand, opening the glass door of your building is a test indeed. As you struggle to pull the metal bar attached to it, someone pushes it from the inside for you.

“Thank you so—” you start but have to cut when you see who it is, “much.”

“Welcome,” Jungkook says succinctly. He sniffles as he opens the door wide and ticks his head to the side, signalling you to get inside quickly before the breeze starts seeping in.

“Oh. Oh yeah, right. Thanks,” you say again. “Thanks. It’s kinda freezing out.”

He brushes a finger under his nose and nods while his other hand is kept busy as he removes his airpods from his ears. “Yeah,” he agrees. “You’re out early. Sun’s not even out yet. You shouldn’t be outside this dark.”

“Yeah, well, I—uh—had to study. Exams are coming up,” you explain. And you’re thinking, how and why the fuck are you talking to him right now?

“Need help with that?” Jungkook nods at your stuff with both hands tucked inside his black sweatpants.

“No? No. No, thanks.”

He only looks at you.

“Yes. I do. I do, actually. Um, could you just click the elevator floor for me?” you request with fumbled thoughts and heart that’s beating fast.

“Sure.” He shrugs.

“Thanks.”

He chuckles at that.

You note to yourself: stop saying “thanks” all the time.

You lead the way to the opened elevator and Jungkook only follows as he brushes a hand through his long, curly hair, which you have only noticed. How the hell is he allowed to walk around this campus looking like that?

A step closer to you, you then notice how much about Jungkook has changed since you two kind of fell off, not that you two were ever involved romantically, but you two were best—good friends. Sort of. You were with each other throughout high school anyway, and not being able to be his friend in college made you think that it’s probably supposed to be this way.

And it broke you.

But some friendships fall apart.

Many people who are older than you – your cousins, aunts, summer job colleagues – have told you a lot of the friendships you’ve made along the way during high school don’t necessarily last. You agreed with that.

You just didn’t think it’d be the one with him.

“Which floor?” Jungkook asks.

“Oh!” You jump a bit. “Eighth.”

“Alright,” he says, and right when he’s about to get off the lift, he turns around and takes care of an imaginary itch on his forehead. “You know what, I’ll help you with that ‘til you get to your room. That looks expensive.”

It’s not.

“It’s not,” you say aloud. You go red. “It’s just from the small shop three blocks away, the one beside the bookstore, across the post office. It’s not that known but food and drinks are delicious there. Plus very, very cheap.”

Jungkook exhales with a smile as the elevator closes. “I see.”

No one talks and you aren’t sure if you’re thankful for the elevator music filling the air enveloping the both of you. If anything, it probably makes the situation worse, awkward. And you hate that no one’s speaking.

“You’re up early,” you comment finally after a few dreaded seconds.

“Training,” he answers quickly.

“Ah, right.” You nod. “The game’s around the corner?”

“Uh-huh.” This time, he nods. “Your boyfriend playing?”

You glow red at that and you swallow. “Yes. H-He will.”

“What’s his name again?”

“Jimin. Park Jimin.”

“Right.”

You’re not sure how two conflicting temperatures are playing with your body at the same time.  Right this moment, you are completely frozen on your spot and your cold hands are sweating. On the other hand, your breath is hitched and warmth has its fashion to conquer you. You feel hot. It wouldn’t take long for bullets of sweat to appear on your forehead.

It’s not difficult to find a reason why he knows you’re dating Jimin, an athlete from another university that will be playing against your university’s team in the coming weeks. Because Jimin, like all good-looking athletes in campuses, is popular. Sort of—well, it’s college.

Jungkook takes the beverage carrier and one of the wrinkled paper bags from you as soon as the metallic gold doors part ways. He gives you a small smile, one that barely looks like one but the sparks in his eyes make up for it.

“Lead the way,” he says, motioning you to.

“Right. Okay,” you say, walking forward then left.

As you sweat to the fabrics of your jacket, your feet shuffle rapidly through the unclean, patterned tiles of the hallway. Doors rush past your vision until you’re finally in front of your own—your home in this stressing universe of a university.

“This is me.” You turn to smile at him only to catch him looking intently at the golden plate of numbers plastered on your black-painted wooden door. You take your stuff from his arms gently. “Thank you so, so much.”

Would it be wrong to tell him you missed him, talking to him?

It must be.

“You’re welcome, _____.”

It’s the first time anyone of you mentioned the other’s name. You didn’t think it would be him who would recall that he actually knows the name of the figure he’s talking to. And the same thing could be said to you.

“See you around,” you mutter and you couldn’t help but give in to the stretch of a tight-lipped smile across your mouth as you add, “Jungkook.”

“Don’t walk around… when… uh, it’s dark,” he manages to say.

Silently, you say, “Okay,” in feathered breaths.

With that, he finally turns around while you twist your toes to face your door instead, not bothering to watch him walk away until he finds his way to the elevator. You fish for your keys inside your pocket. And of course, it takes you a minute or two to finally get inside your room and find your roommate with her hands covering her mouth.

“Were you just outside with Jungkook?” Suelgi asks through her palms.

“Thanks for helping me open the door, by the way,” you say satirically as you sigh. “And yep, that’s him alright.”

“Did you just sigh?” she asks in disbelief.

“It’s Jungkook.”

“Oh, right… history.” She wiggles her brows. “Oh, to have such a not-boring high school life!”

“Boring is fine,” you state. “Also, I-uh, brought some breakfast.”

“Yay! OMG,” she squeals. “Thank you! I was starving last night but I had to sleep it off because there was no food in the fridge.”

Your forehead creases. “You could’ve ordered.”

“I know that. I just chose to sleep instead.” She approaches you and kisses your head as she snatches the paper bags from your hand. “You see, this is why Jimin loves you so much, _____.”

“You got what you wanted. No need to flatter me.”

“Were you out again studying?” Her voice floats farther from your auditory perception as she strides away to unpack the brown bags on the kitchen counter. “These smell good!”

You take off your shoes. “Yup,” you say as you let gravity pull your body to the surrender of the couch. “I’m just gonna nap.”

“Hey, eat with me first,” she requests then giggles. “We’re gonna talk about Jeon.”

“Not funny!”

AUTUMN, FOUR YEARS AGO…

Even amid the tormenting coldness brought by the icy wind, you needed to go to tutorial lessons to prepare for the upcoming exams. This would determine your future, they told you and you held onto that idea. The lessons were held every 7PM until 11PM at the building about five streets behind your apartment. It was one from the many commercial modern-styled buildings lined by the highway tracks.

By the time the tutorial ended, you already had your things rammed into your backpack so you could go home before it could even get darker. You didn’t know anyone in the room and it wasn’t like everyone had the energy to still be friendly, to ask you for some carton drinks on the way home, or to relish on a three-dollar-meal dinner at some twenty-four-seven fast-food chain.

The soles of your rubber shoes were on the frosty cement in no time.

“_____!”

You turned around quickly, trying to find Jungkook’s voice. That was his for sure. It didn’t take long for your eyes to locate him. He was at a convenience store at the corner, across where you stood.

“Kook!” you shouted back.

He rushed to you quickly with white breath mimicking the way his lips exhaled air. “There shouldn’t be a reason you’re out this late.”

“Right,” you remarked sarcastically, kicking lightly at his ankle. “Like you have any business to be out this late.”

“I was craving for some noodles,” he rebutted so simply. “You still attending prep class?”

“Of course, I am. Not everyone’s a star athlete like you.”

He glared at you. “You’re pushing yourself too hard,” Jungkook managed to say silently.

“Come again. Is this concern I hear?” you teased, dramatically putting a hand on your chest.

“Forget it.”

You huffed at him. “I’m trying to get into the university that’s recruiting you. I’m not pushing myself to get in for you, though—well, not entirely. It’s—”

“Your first choice. Your dream university or whatever, I know,” he finished.

“Exactly. That’s why you should be supporting me. I’m doing just fine. See?” You put your open palms by your shoulders. “No stress.”

“I can’t take you seriously with those bags under your eyes, _____.” He narrowed his eyes.

“I naturally have those, Jungkook. Stop insulting me.”

“Accidentally insulting you,” he corrected.

“Okay. Well, stop accidentally insulting me, Jungkook.”

He gave up with a sigh. “Okay, I’m gonna ask you something but you’re only allowed to say ‘yes’ or ‘no’ to my questions, okay?”

“What’s this f—”

“You like ice cream?”

You gave in. “Yes.”

“You like winter?”

“Yes.”

“You want to learn piano?”

“Yes.”

“You’re tired?”

“Yes—” you gasped loudly. “Okay, that’s just unfair! My brain was trained to say ‘yes’ as an answer to every question. It was instinct.”

While you were busy trying to lecture him, all he had as a reply to you was a smirk as he shook his head in dismissal. It was to say that enough, I already won. And maybe, it was right for him to win this. It was true you were tired anyway. Only, you found it hard to admit it to yourself until he made you so.

“I’m hungry.” You looked up to him. “Weren’t you craving for noodles? Let’s eat.”

Jungkook smiled at you, a damn perfect one. “C’mon,” he said, gesturing for you to grab his hand because you were about to cross the street.

“There are no cars, Jungkook,” you stated.

“Fine.” He retracted his hand.  

At mid-passage, two trucks were on their way to cross paths with you and Jungkook, and Jungkook wasn’t planning to stop walking and it was scaring you.

You didn’t know how to cross streets when there were no street lights tucked on the bends of the roads to guide you. You always found trouble finding purchase as to when to cross, so you always had to wait for every upcoming vehicle to pass before you moved your limbs frontward.

So you clutched Jungkook’s hand.

“See, I told you,” he succinctly said, not looking at you.

He held onto yours tightly.

There was no assurance as to whose heart was beating fast at that moment.

Even then, it was quiet.

  “What if you don’t get to the university I’ll be in?” Jungkook asked casually.

“You don’t believe I can?” you teased, trying to sound offended.

He paused. “No—it’s not that! Of course, I do! It’s j—”

That was your queue to laugh and you did.

“Asshole,” was his sheer comment.

“If I don’t get in, it’s no big deal. There’s always a plan B, even a C, to G,” you explained. “I have lots of backups, you know.”

“Where’s the plan B university?”

“The one near yours,” you muttered as you grazed your chopsticks on the floor of the hot paper bowl caged in your palm, trying to clasp short bits of noodles. “It’s just as good but it doesn’t have the program I want.”

He nodded at that. “Do your best.”

You lifted your head to look at him but he wasn’t looking at you. So instead of coming up with a serious response to that, you decided to go on a different direction. “Aww,” you cooed, “can’t go through college without me now, Kook?”

“You wish.”

“Rude.”

“I, um, what do you think about sharing a dorm?” he asked, and when you failed to respond quickly, “my mom wants us to,” he added.

“Ahh.” It was clearer for you now. “That won’t be fair to me because then, I’ll have to clean up your mess. You’d make a terrible roommate, Jungkook.”

“Hey!” He put down the water bottle he had been holding. “I’m not that bad.”

“You’d think,” you provoked more.

Jungkook only huffed, doing his best not to be annoyed while he waited for you to finish your meal. He had been over his for about 20 minutes now. You were a slow eater and Jungkook always took note of that which was why every time he finished his meals, he would always find you something to drink afterwards. So he wouldn’t just be waiting there, watching you eat.

“Thanks for this,” you said as you opened the lid of your drink.

“That’d be two dollars.”

You glared at him. “No way. Let’s just head home. It’s getting late.”

“Right. Like an hour before midnight wasn’t late enough.”

“Okay, genius. It’s getting late late.”

“That makes it better,” he mocked.

Instead of replying, you got up abruptly, carrying the weight of your backpack on the span of your back. Jungkook arranged the disposable materials you both ate on and threw them to the mouth of the nearest garbage bin next to the counter.

And then you were outside the store.

“What are you doing?” you asked, looking at Jungkook’s fingers twined with yours.

Jungkook swallowed. “There might be cars,” he explained shortly but slowly as he let go of your hand and tucked his own inside the warm, joined pockets of his hoodie.  

It didn’t take long for the two of you to reach your rent-controlled apartment, especially when throughout the tread home, you two bickered over the littlest of things. And for a moment, it felt like you were brought back to being first-year highschoolers again, when you two had just met and eventually became friends after finding out that you shared the same path home.

“Tenth floor, right?” Jungkook asked as you both waited for the elevator to come down.

You nodded. “Why’d you have to ask, you practically live here.”

He entered the crane as soon as it arrived and you followed, stopping right by his side.  

You look at him.

He looked at you and sighed. “Next time, after your prep class, call me. You really shouldn’t be out this dark,” and before your witty remark, “I’m serious.”

PRESENT-DAY AUTUMN…

You have no idea why you still have a small picture of Jungkook stuck into your wallet behind asymmetrically folded trivial receipts. If anything, you should have thrown it away as soon as college started. You must be hanging onto this false hope that maybe, somehow, at some point in the future, there’s still a chance things would go back.

That maybe there’s a reason he suddenly pushed you away.

“Where are you eating dinner? Wanna take-out?” Seulgi asks silently as you’re both in the library.

Her voice makes you close your wallet abruptly, and you hope she doesn’t think too much of it. Or else, she would tease you to no end.

“Ah, I’m going out with Jimin tonight,” you say with a wide smile, packing your items.

“Oh, to have a boyfriend who’d ditch training just to have dinner with me,” your roommate theatrically teases. “Say hi to him for me.”

“Sure.”

“Tell your boyfriend too that, that one time he sent food to our dorm, he can still do that,” Seulgi adds with little to no pause in between words. “Tell him not to be shy.”

“Okay. You,” you sigh, inserting your notebook into your bag, “need a boyfriend.”

“_____, I have classes from 7:30AM to 5PM, Mondays to Fridays, half-days on Saturdays. You can’t possibly think I’ve got time for that.” She ponders over the idea for a second, though. “You know what, maybe a fuck buddy will do.”

“Oh, yeah, no fucking way,” you quickly say, shaking your head. “You’ve gone through that already.”

“So protective,” she coos. “You’re for real the big sister I never had.”

You are a year older than her and you’ve shared your dorm with her for about two semesters now. On your freshman year, you didn’t have a roommate and it was so tough living alone to pay all the bills so you opened a slot before first semester officially ended. And there, she entered your life. You’re glad it was her.

“I’m going!” you scream-whisper. “Don’t sleep with an empty stomach, okay? I think there’s still some leftovers in the fridge. If anything—”

“Comes up, just call me,” she continues, mimicking your voice and tone – hardly. “Okay, okay. You sound like my mom now. Go and get laid.”

   If there’s something you love most about Jimin, it would be his determination to make time with the people he loves, one of them being you luckily.

“You sure you don’t wanna take-out?” you ask for the nth time.

“I’m sure. Besides, I’m almost done.” He gives you a peck on the lips, his being the smoothest, softest pair even with the chilly season.  “And babe, you can’t live off take-outs. It’s not healthy.”

“You’re the expert.” You shrug. “You sure you’re not tired?” you say, worried.  

“I’m definitely sure.” He shakes his head. “If anything, all I feel is that I miss you.”

“Cheesy,” you say, smirking and narrowing your eyes.

You instantly wrap your hands around his waist as you lean your body on his back. Being shorter than him, it’s difficult to put your chin on his shoulder and watch him cook. Giving up, you set your cheek on the span of his back, feeling the vibrations as he hums. You sigh and he notices that.

“I think you’re the tired one here,” Jimin utters, concern laced in his tone. “I don’t think studying at dawn is healthy for you, babe.”

“It’s not healthy for anyone; you’re right,” you yield. “But I already had my body clock adjusted to this.”

“You have 9AM classes, _____.” He creases his forehead. “There’s no way you’re getting full eight hours of sleep. Stop with this already and listen to me this time.”

“Sorry.” You nod. “You’re right,” you repeat. “Just two more days for exams then I’ll go back to my uninterrupted sleeps. All my exams are done by Friday anyway.”

With that, you unfasten your hands to let go of him and walk towards the empty kitchen counter beside him, lift your body, and sit on it.

And just like that, leaning your side on the wall, you watch until he turns off the stove.

“Let’s eat,” he says.

And he catches you merely staring at him.  

“Something wrong?” Jimin asks, turning to face you and ending up at a position where he stands between your legs. He slides his hands up and down on your bare thighs, getting close to your ass then back to your thighs.

You shake your head. “Just missed you,” you sigh, “a lot.”

“Missed you too,” he replies, leaning in for a kiss.

The kiss, shallow at first but with a hand crept up your nape, he pulls you in deeper. And the reply you could muster is a throaty moan as you lock your ankles around him. You play with his hair softly, much different from the kiss you share.

Softly, you sigh as he pulls away.

He lets go to place his lips on the crook of your neck, hot breath on sensitive skin but all you could do is throw your head backwards to give him more access.

“Hmm, smell so good,” Jimin mumbles, inhaling your scent, licking and kissing small spots on your neck.

His hands travel to your waist inside your (his) shirt with his thumb gently circling a skin of your stomach. One goes upwards to your ribs and just so, so close to your mound.

“Knew you weren’t wearing one when you hugged me,” he breathes out on the shell of your ear. “Such a good girl for me.”

He goes over the curve of your breast and catches your nipple between his fingers, making you whimper in small sounds as you arch your back. “So, so sensitive too.” He nips at your neck, just lightly grazing his teeth.

Jimin withdraws from sucking spots on your neck. While his hand is busy with your breast, his other cups your cheek, making you look at him with dilated eyes. He pushes your chin to open your mouth and he licks at your lips making you hitch a breath.

Before you could even do anything, he sucks at your bottom lip.

With the gesture, you couldn’t help but to fist his shirt in your hands, scared you would faint if continues to play with you like this. He chuckles at that before finally attaching his lips to yours, entering his tongue into your mouth. And you suckle his tongue, trying to level with the intensity he’s giving you.

He moans at that and he flicks your nipple to receive a moan from you.

“F-Fuck,” you mutter, and you already feel the immense wetness pooling on your panties.

His fingers dangerously dance along the ends of your pajama shorts. And when they enter the fabric, they only stay on your inner thigh, tapping lightly at your skin.

“Jimin, please…” you exhale. “J-Just—just do—do something.”

“You want my fingers?”

And he gets so fucking close, staying on your panties but he retrieves to palm your inner thigh instead. “Answer me, babe. Just tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you,” Jimin says, looking into your eyes.

You hate how he’s able to maintain such demeanor when you’re already this fucked out over a kiss.

“C’mon, baby…”

“I-I want your fingers inside of me,” you say, shyly.

He nods at you as his fingers rub you over your panties and he could feel how wet you are. He rubs your clit over the fabric and you couldn’t help but fist his shirt even more.

“Inside me—please, please,” you beg with a tiny voice, spreading your legs apart.

“So impatient,” he comments and he finally enters a digit. “Fuck, you’re tight. Could barely move around here, baby.” He starts thrusting it into your core slowly in a torturous pace.

You clench at his words and even when you don’t speak, he knows you like it when he talks to you like this. Your small whimpers and short moans tell him enough. And there’s something about you and your submissiveness that he couldn’t get enough of.

“Can you take one more, princess?” he says, stilling his hand.

You don’t answer, squeezing your eyes shut. You sigh at the loss of movement so you hold onto his wrist and try to move him but he doesn’t budge. He only shakes his head.

“Take one more for me?” he repeats, thrusting his hand again slow but hard.

You nod quickly with eyes shut as you feel him add another finger and curl them inside you.

“Can you hear that?” Jimin whispers as he thrusts his hand fast. “Fuck. You’re so wet.”

The sounds of your juices squelching are the only thing you could hear along the fast beating of your heart in your chest and the quick high-pitched whimpers you exhale. But you are too embarrassed to even answer his question.

You grow even wetter by second and that makes you redder than ever.

“Answer me,” he says, slowing his pace.

You gulp. “Yesyes. I can hear it.” You bury your face on his shoulder, muffling your words as you’re not able to take it anymore. “Fuck—nnghh—!”

Jimin knows you’re so close to falling apart on his fingers—way too close. It might be the fastest he’s made you come undone on his fingers. You are clenching on his fingers too tightly and his blood is already rushing down to his cock.

His thumb presses on your folds until he finds your clit and rubs over it in circular motion. It has you breathing even faster. You couldn’t help but to bite his collarbone to ease the pleasure you’re feeling.

“O-Oh, my God!” you scream, although the sounds are muffled. “Jimin!”

Then he has your legs trembling.

Just a bit more. A little bit more.

“Come,” he sternly commands.

And with rapid moans, you do. Slowly, you let go of his shirt and lick a stripe of his neck and nibbling at some parts. He pulls his fingers and raises them to you. Without letting a second pass, you hold his wrist and you let your tongue clean his fingers, and his hairs raise at that.  

You hear his small “fuck” as you taste yourself off him.

Just when you’re about to wrap his fingers with your mouth, his hands reach the back of your knees, pulling you closer to him.  Your heat is placed just above his abdomen and he could feel you pulsing.

His face is incredibly close to you and none of you are doing anything about it. You let his hot breath fan your pinkish cheeks, and he lets you rub your hands on the span of his arms.

“Tired?” he asks, leaning his forehead onto yours.

“Just need a minute,” you answer.  

Then a smirk forms on his lips. “We were supposed to be here to eat dinner.”

“Mhm” – you loll your head to the side and kiss the corner of his mouth – “I like you better.”

Jimin chuckles at that. “Stay over tonight?” he cautiously asks, testing the waters and afraid you’ll turn him down to do something else (e.g. studying).

You nod at his request. “Definitely,” and you add, “I’ll be troubled finding a reason to leave after—well, that.”

If there’s something you love most about Jimin, it would be his determination to make time with the people he loves, one of them being you luckily and his cock.

   “Will you attend the game on Saturday?” Jimin asks slowly.

The contrast of his personality is adorable to you. Just an hour ago, he’s ready to take the life out of you with his fingers. But now, he’s warily asking you if you could make it to one of his games on a weekend.

You smile wickedly at him. “I’ll be there for sure!”

“Great,” he says excitedly. “Who are you supporting?”

Your eyes turn into slits at him. “You! Who else?”

“Well, you’re friends with lots from your team. You know, Namjoon, Seokjin, and well—uh, and they’re playing, too,” he explains.

“Yeah, well, I’m friends with Taehyung from your team, too,” you say, refuting his theory. “I miss Tae.”

“Really, now,” Jimin grunts. “He’s my friend and all but ever since the story you told me before, I just can’t help but picture it, then I get mad—no, frustrated. Just a little but still—”

“We fooled around once, Jimin. Nothing even happened,” you quickly defend. “Once. And we were on our last year of high school. That’s like three years ago! That’s before you even dared to ask me out. And I had to kiss you for you to ask me out.”

“Yeah, I-I know. I know,” he says. “I can’t help it.”

“Don’t picture it!” you tell him, laughing.

“This is not funny,” he complains. “Like, whenever I’m with Tae, it’s all good. It’s fine. When I’m with you, it’s all good too. But when you two happen to be in the same space, I can’t help it. Or whenever someone mentions it.”

“Just so you know though, you’re the only one I’ve ever loved,” you confess, solemnly.

You close the gap between the two of you to press your lips on his jaw, not that it’s far considering that you two are literally cuddling up on the couch with a playing movie that none of you pays attention to.

He looks down at you.

“I’ve had flings. You had yours too! And I’m probably not aware of it, but you’ve probably messed with some of my friends in high school—but you know, I don’t think about it,” you add, shaking your head.

Jimin only kisses your crown. “It’s hard for me because there’s a face. I know who Taehyung is, and he’s my friend. You have a feeling I’ve fooled around with some of your friends, but you don’t know who. That’s the difference.”

“Are you jealous?”

“Is it—that’s what you get from all that?”

“Well?” you raise a question. “There’s nothing else to get from that.”

“Okay—okay, you’re right,” he says, halting as he realizes.

“Hey, hey,” you say, making him lock eyes with you. “I love you.”

Jimin couldn’t help but smile at that. “Love you too,” before he cages your body and kiss you with the right amount of passion and intensity.

“I gotta say, jealousy is a good look on you,” you tease.

“Don’t make me deliberately jealous please.”

“Won’t ever do that,” you assure.

   When the sun burned your thighs through Jimin’s bedroom curtains, he’s no longer beside you. But there’s a note he left on his nightstand that says he had to go out early because he ditched training last night for you. You smile at the simple gesture which turned grand by the breakfast he’s cooked for you. As though the leftovers from dinner last night aren’t enough.

Treating his home as yours, you do your morning routine with an incomplete skincare regimen and leave the apartment locked. You even have to double-check it, afraid that you accidentally abandon it open.

Getting back in track with your usual mornings, you head to the coffee shop you always stop by for of course, coffee. The shop owner’s daughter, Joohyun, whom you’ve known and been friends with since high school (who currently attends classes at Jimin’s university), serves you your usual – precise teaspoons of sugar, precise part of milk, and precise hotness of beverage.

“Jungkook was here,” Joohyun starts.

Instead of standing behind the counter, she shares a table with you while munching on some peanuts.

“And I should know this, why?” you ask, narrowing your eyes at her.

“We had a small talk, the typical ‘how are you’ all that, then he mentioned you is why,” she points out with a smirk. She chomps her snack.

That makes you stop a little but you don’t show it – hopefully. To hide your surprise, you take a small sip of your drink, not bothering to play with the temperature as you trust Joohyun and her ability to warm up a drink just right.

“What—what did he say?” you say, needing to pause in between as you swallow the remnants of your coffee’s bitterness soaking on the buds of your tongue.

“That you mentioned this place to him,” Joohyun states, smiling now.  “Since when did you two start talking again, huh? It’s like we opened a door to seven years ago, damn.”

“We talked yesterday for a while and that’s probably the only time we’ll talk until we graduate,” you dismiss.

Joohyun shrugs. “Whatever you say,” she utters, unconvinced.

“At least, sound like you believe me, Joohyun.”

She giggles instead, not bothering to rephrase her words. “Anyway, how are you and Jimin?”

“It’s been great!” you exclaim. “But you know, he’s a bit—uh, how do I say this?” You pause to find the right words, snapping your fingers, and Joohyun’s just waiting for you.

“I do not have all the time in the world, _____.”

“He’s a bit, um, insecure—no, that’s not right.”

“What do you mean ‘insecure’? Like, ‘doesn’t-feel-confident-with-himself-because-the-game-is-close’ insecure?”

You shake your head. “You know that part of the relationship where you talk about exes and stuff like that?”

“Ooh, that.” Joohyun nods, finally seeing where you’re going. “But you two have been together for two years now; I’m surprised you haven’t had this talk earlier.”

“No. No, we had, but it keeps resurfacing. Then we talked about the people we’ve been with, and you know I’ve fooled around with Taehyung right?”

Joohyun nods again.

“Well, he feels weird about it because they’re close and all. I don’t know.” You exhale a sigh. “And there’s more. I told him there’s probably a huge chance he’s fooled around with at least one of my friends.” You lift a finger.

Her eyes widen at that then she nods her head very slowly – again. “And… what did he say?”

“He said that’s what I think,” you utter and Joohyun only nods and nods at you, so you go ahead and continue. “But it’s not like it’s far-fetched, right? Our high schools weren’t that far from each other. He’s just so weirded-out by me and Tae, but it’s been so, so long. Why are you so quiet? Say something! Also! I wouldn’t be bothered if he tells me he had done it with my frie—oh, my God, you have?”

You almost shout your last words.

“What gave it away?” Joohyun whisper-shouts, covering her mouth. “Was it the nods?”

“Could you be a little more obvious?” you shout back. “You and Jimin? Oh, my God. And you never told me!”

“I didn’t think it was important! Why didn’t he tell you?” she defends.

“He probably doesn’t even know we’re friends, Joohyun!” you say quickly.

“Well, he should! And in my defense though, _____, I had the hardest time trying to find a way to tell you. I knew you were talking about some Jimin to me before but I didn’t know it was that Jimin.”

You wiggle on your seat, your mind making up the image of Joohyun and Jimin together intimately without your cue. And Jimin was right; it’s weird. You put your hands into fists, cringing at the idea.

“Oh, my God, are you mad at me?” Joohyun asks, not able to decipher your reactions.

“No?” you say, unsure, and then calmly and more certainly this time, “no. It was high school, before we were even together.”

“Jimin and I—we only did it onc—”

“Stopstopstop! Can we talk about something else?” you beg.

“Okay, okay. Yeah. Of course, sure,” she agrees frantically. “So, um—Jungkook! How did you two start talking again?”

You summarize everything into a simpler situation. “Shared the elevator ride.” Your shoulders slump back. “Can we not make it a bigger deal than it is—not!—it is not a big deal,” you correct midway. “I stand by what I said, you know, we’re never gonna talk again. I just know it.”

“And you know better because you’re a what? A fucking psychic?” she scoffs.

“Rude.”

“I’m just saying, _____,” Joohyun states. “I’m not saying that your relationship with him should have the same depth as the one you had with him in high school. Inseparable and just you know, so… young.”

You wait for her to continue, not being able to reply to that because you think she might be making a point. So far, she has.

“All I’m saying is that this is a burden you never lifted off your shoulders,” she says seriously as she shakes her head. “And things like that – they come full circle,” she rotates a finger in the air, “naturally.”

[soysaucevictim]

Week 4.

-

Jan. 23

I woke up proper after 11AM. Definitely underslept.

After a bit of the usual and chatting, I did today’s exercise.

First, today’s DD. 2′ bouncing on the spot with EC. I counted 256 reps completed by the end. An enjoyable exercise, all told!

Last, Chapter 19 of the AoP. First task was traveling again, 42TP this time. Level 2, as high knees, split into 12+10+10+10.

Decided to pick the first option of attacking the men that captured another character. Did things at Level 4, capitalizing on that Mountain Man Perk (meant 6 sets instead of 7, and a max rest period of 2′.) Probably the least pleasant aspect were the jump knee tucks - just because of their explosiveness. But handily done.

I then spent some time updating logs again. Spent rest of the night on the usual and worked on writing Begotten!AU stuff. I’m having a lot of fun with that!

Got to bed obscenely late again, if a tiny bit earlier than yesterday.

-

Jan. 24

I woke up after 1PM.

After a little bit of the usual, I did my exercise for the day.

First, today’s DD. 2′ palm strikes with EC (swapped sides at 1′). I counted 136 reps by the end of it.

Last, Chapter 20 of the AoP. First segment was traveling, 43TP. Level 2, as high knees, split into 13+10+10+10.

Did the workout proper at Level 3 (15 sets), max rests (1′). Given the large amount of half-jacks and high knees  I did think wearing shoes was a good idea... but did it barefoot anyways. I was also modestly tempted to stop and Level 2, but I decided to keep going.

A bit of the usual before doing Movie Night again with a friend. We watched “Edward Scissorhands“ and “Monty Python and The Holy Grail“. It was a fun little romp.

I got to bed roughly the same time as yesterday, but I did get some more writing in.

-

Jan. 25

I woke up after 1PM. Did my exercise shortly after that.

First, today’s DD. 20 commandos with EC. A bit sloppy, but was a good idea to wear long sleeves/

Last, Chapter 21 of the AoP. Today was pretty simple, 2 exercises and a quota to reach within a single workout. I did both of them in one go. 100 slow climbers really got tough after the first 50, but I dug in and tried to keep my pace steady and slow (arms felt that one. 200 front kicks were done in 50/50/50/50 - I could’ve halved this because of the Mountain Men Perk but opted not to this time (kicks are fun, man).

Did some writing before making today’s Hello Fresh meal. Sesame soy beef bowls. It was alright.

After dishes and the usual, did some more writing. Got to bed a bit later than yesterday.

-

Jan. 26

I woke up after 1PM. Did my exercise shortly after that, again.

First, today’s DD. 30 alt arm/leg raise with EC. Only particularly awkward part was not managing my floorspace efficiently, limbs occasionally tapped object in room. But doable.

Last, Chapter 22 of the AoP. Today’s WO was pure combat work and very fun. I did things at Level 3 and without the Mountain Men Perk active because I just enjoyed it so much (full 7 sets, max 1′ rest.)

For the presented choice point, I opted to reason with this character again, Option B.

A lot of the usual + some writing for the rest of the night. I did manage to get to bed a couple hours earlier than yesterday... but still in the red zone.

-

Jan. 27

I woke up after 1PM

I spent time finally getting around to making some appointments and trip reservations. A mild stressor - but at least it would eliminate some ambient stress to worry about for a bit.

After that, I did today’s exercise.

First, today’s DD. 2; elbow plank with EC. This certainly took some digging - was really tempting to drop in the last ~30″. But glad I could manage alright.

Last, Chapter 23 of the AoP. Did the workout proper at Level 3 today (7 sets, 20 reps of each exercise.) I THOUGHT about going for Level 2, but found it in me to keep going at the load I started off at. Let’s just say I savored the whole 2′ rests between sets. orz

I then made today’s Hello Fresh Meal. Tuscan chickpea, kale, & tomato soup. I personally greatly enjoyed it. Didn’t really hear any complaints, but I still wound up eating most of it’s leftovers over the next few days...

After some dishes, spent rest of day on the usual and some writing. Went to bed obscenely late again - later than yesterday.

-

Jan. 28

I woke up around 1PM, I think? (Lapsed on record-keeping for a bit there.)

One of the first things I did today was exercise.

First, today’s DD. 30 butterfly sit-ups with EC. Had a false start trying lock into the rhythm of coordination for this exercise. But I got into the swing of things shortly after without needing to go for anchor assist. I’m happy about that!

Last, Chapter 24 of the AoP. First section was traveling again. I had to cross 46TP. Done at Level 2, as high knees, split into 16+10+10+10. Doable work.

Workout proper, I went through Level 3 again (5 sets, 2x15 push-ups per set.) Savored the full 2′ rests and noted my push-ups got sloppy again. But I still felt it enough to need to dig in. Oof.

I also invited Dicer and Morse into my camp again.

Spent most of my day on the usual + some more writing stuff.

Got to bed in the red zone, but dramatically earlier than yesterday.

-

Jan. 29

I woke up around 1PM, I think, again?

Aft a bit of the usual, I did the only exercise on today’s agenda, the DD. 1′ squats with EC. I counted 35 reps completed in the time given.

Made some frozen casserole for dinner. Spent most of the day on the usual + writing some more.

... got to bed obscenely late again.

[tiny-slasher]

@0shark-king0​

Alright fam. I remembered this story yesterday because yesterday my brother and I heard what sounds like a bee in our bathroom wall (which we will take care of), and it brought back one of the most terrifying experiences I’ve ever had. And I SWEAR it’s all completely true. (Also there were times I thought our house was a little haunted).

My family (my parents and two brothers) and I lived in a rural area at the time, where our closest neighbor was about a mile down the road. Our house was built in the early 70s, so it was a bit run down. We had lived there for about ten years at this point, and knew all the weird noises and strange things that our house did regularly. We did get bugs every now and then, especially since we didn’t get an exterminator out there as often as we should have...and...well...Texas has lots of insects. But, it was never anything out of control.

My dad had decided to take my brothers out to see some friends for the evening that they rarely got to see, and my mom and I stayed at home. This was something we did often, so it wasn’t anything unusual. Generally, I stay inside of my bedroom most of the day anyway.

A few hours after they left, I left my room to get a drink from the kitchen. On the way there, I passed by the living room and heard a buzzing noise. Pausing, I look around and see nothing, and soon the buzzing stops. So, I shrug my shoulders and continue what I was doing. I get something to drink, decided to wash a few dishes while I’m in the kitchen (because I did the dishes at the time, since we didn’t have a dishwasher). While I’m washing, I hear the buzzing sound again, only closer. Looking up at the window in front of me, I see the silhouette of a bee flying around behind it.

I genuinely love bees, so after several terrified attempts, I caught the bee in a glass and set it free outside. Proud of myself, I went back inside and went back to washing dishes.

Then, I heard more buzzing. 

There was no bee in the window, but I could still hear it flying around nearby. At the same time, I heard my mom walk into the kitchen to get something to eat for dinner. Frustrated, after spending about ten minutes beforehand trying to catch the last bee, I turned to her.

“I hear a bee,” I said, hoping she’d start looking for it and catch it like she usually would.

Instead, her face went a bit white. She frantically looked around and then said, “Another one?”

“What do you mean ‘another one’?!” I asked, my eyes widening. “I just got rid of one a second ago! There’s been more than that?”

“I got rid of two in the living room about fifteen minutes ago!” she said, grabbing a can of bug spray.

We only had roach and and bug spray, not anything for wasps or bees, so we had hoped it would do the job anyway. As much as neither of us are ones to kill bees, we were both getting a little anxious about it.

Being the braver one when it comes to bugs, I walked into the living room with a fly swatter. Our house was fairly small, so it didn’t take very long to see two bees flying around inside of one of our lamps. Not one, but two. I called my mom over and she sprayed the spray inside of the lamp, and then we both ran away as the bees angrily buzzed around in the lamp. Unfortunately, instead of just dying like we’d hoped they would...they flew out of the lamp and buzzed around the living room like nothing had happened.

My mom and I are both terrified of flying bugs like wasps, so a couple of angry bees wreaking havoc in our house was enough to have us both cowering in the kitchen. The buzzing stopped after a couple of minutes, so we thought that the bees had finally died. Walking into the living room, we couldn’t find them anywhere. We searched the place up and down, seeing nothing but furniture.

Assuming they had fallen down behind our couch or something, we decided to move on with our lives. We both spent the next ten or fifteen minutes making dinner for ourselves.

Then, we heard buzzing again.

We walked back into the living room to see two bees in the lamp again. We figured that maybe we didn’t get them with the spray the first time, so we did it again, making sure to get them. We ran out of the room, waiting for the angry buzzing to die, but it never did. Walking back in, we saw the two bees still angry in the lamp, and another one crawling on the wall near them. We sprayed them again, only to see another bee flying around our ceiling fan, trying to get to the light. There were also a couple more crawling around our fireplace (which had been blocked off for a couple of decades). 

At this point, we’d been in there for at least an hour, probably longer, and our entire living room was literally dripping with bug spray while at least 7 bees were angrily flying around. It felt almost like fighting the Hydra, where if you kill one bee, two more show up. That isn’t even counting the three bees we knew we’d already gotten rid of. The worst part of it was that we didn’t have any idea where on earth they were coming from. They just sort of appeared out of thin air.

After seeing another one crawling on a bookshelf, my mom and I decided to lock ourselves in our rooms and wait for my dad to come home to deal with it.

A couple of hours later, my dad finally came home. We had warned him via text about the bees, so the first thing he did was check the living room for them. A few minutes later, he came to my mom and I and said he didn’t see any bees. In disbelief, we both marched ourself into the living room to point them out, but saw nothing.

There were no bees. Anywhere. Dead or alive.

The worst part about it was that we spent the next week or so waiting for them to come back, but they never did. We never found out where they’d come from, or where they had gone. They just disappeared. 

[triscribe]

4am is not the time for an adventure

But I got one anyway.

So, my work shifts start early (even earlier than usual lately thanks to how many of y’all are ordering stuff online now), and this morning I’d set an alarm for 1:30 in order to get up and go to the overtime Saturday shift. Well. Didn’t happen, since I count make myself get out of bed until 3. I wasn’t inclined to let Mom put me to work first thing when she woke up, though, so I grabbed my backpack and headed off to the downtown library to sit on a bench outside and use their wifi.

And, uh. I got approached, about an hour later.

This woman, maybe late thirties, early forties, came down the street towards me, crying, and asked if I could help her. No idea at the time what the problem was, I said of course - what else could I say? She sat down on the bench next to me, still crying, and repeating herself over and over: “I lost the key fob, I’ve been walking around for three hours looking for it, for the car, I’m so stupid, he’s gonna kill me, he begged me not to go-”

It took a while, but I managed to ascertain the following facts:

-She’d been at one of the local restaurant/bars, which had closed up for the night a while ago.

-She wasn’t entirely sure which one, and wasn’t entirely sure where in the main street area she wandered, because she’s only been in Texas for two days.

-Her keys were locked in the car. She couldn’t find her car. She’d also misplaced the electronic fob that would unlock the door to let her in even if she did know where the car was. Quite possibly the fob and vehicle had both been stolen, which was contributing to a large amount of her panic.

-Calling for help was out, and her partner (boyfriend? husband? I never did learn that one) was “going to kill her”.

-She was still drunk. Or something. Distraught, understandably, and definitely not thinking straight.

So, I packed my stuff back up, guided her over to my puppy truck and got her settled, then waited as she called her partner. From what little I could hear of his voice over the phone, he sounded fairly chill if confused. Or maybe that was just a side-effect of being woken up at 4:30am while still hungover from their dinner before she even left for the bar. Anyway, my new friend starts crying again, because and/or in spite of whatever he said to her. I figure it’s time to start driving.

Right turn away from the library parking lot, up one block to where my favorite internet cafe is on the corner, left turn towards the only restaurant/bar I know of and, conveniently, the only parking garage in our dinky little Main Street area. She insisted she’d parked on a street, not inside the garage, so I go around to the back where I know there’s some parking spots by the sidewalk.

Lo and behold, there’s her Cadillac.

Queue tears of joy - followed by more sobs of despair as she remembered the missing fob, and pulled fruitlessly at the locked door handles. I pull out my phone to look up a number for a local locksmith who’d come out to us. She calls her partner again, to let him know the car was found. Cries harder again after hanging up. For the second time, I find myself letting this woman - complete stranger, still don’t know her name - hug me and cry on my shoulder.

She calmed down a bit once I got ahold of someone who said they could send a driver in half an hour. Then the lament for a cigarette started up. I’m asked if there’s a nearby gas station - maybe half a mile up the main road to the highway - and then if I’ll go get a pack for her. I’m, uh. Not comfortable agreeing to that, for personal reasons, so instead I drive her up there. On our way back the locksmith dispatcher calls, apologizing, saying it’s gonna be closer to eight or nine before he can get someone to us - maybe sooner if anybody wakes up early. I thank him, don’t give any details to my new friend (she’d burst out into tears earlier when the first company I tried said they couldn’t do anything until 7) and just get us back to the parking space beside her car.

(It should be noted, I made sure to ask her if it was safe to go back to her partner, and she blinked before bursting out laughing. “Shit, yeah, he’s a pussycat. And I know he’s not really angry with me, it’s just that I’m beating myself up over being so stupid, y’know?” I know. Believe me, I know.)

So. She smokes on the sidewalk, I get out my drawing stuff since dawn is breaking and it’s light enough to see the page. She finishes smoking, flops down into my passenger seat, and zonks out so hard I could practically see the sleepy Zzz’s coming out of her mouth.

I focus on coloring in some inked sketches for the next hour and a half or so.

About - 7:30, 7:40, get another call, this time from the actual guy driving around looking for us. I manage to establish our location for him: ”Can you tell me the actual address?” He asked three times. “I don’t know it, we’re next to the public parking garage at the intersection of this avenue and this street,” I explained twice. “Uhh... oh, is that by the library?” “Yep.” “Gotcha, we’ll be there in seven minutes.”

New friend starts to wake up right around the time this guy and his wife pull up. I figure we’re in the home stretch: out comes the little inflatable pouch to force the window out a sliver, and the long bendy pole to push down on the unlock switch.

Except.

The damn. Thing. Won’t. Work.

Ten minutes of cursing and wiggling, but because of the Cadillac’s arm rest design, he can trigger the UN-lock side of the button, but not the other. Tries reaching the other way to get the button on the back door. Tries coming around to the passenger side. Tries opening the center console to fish out the actual keys. Complains that the Cadillac he dealt with yesterday, just ONE YEAR different from this model, went so much easier.

Finally, FINALLY, he grabs a different tool, the little grabber arm, and after a few repeated attempts, manages to grab the pin of the actual lock and tug it upward. Car alarm goes off, of course, but my new friend is at least able to promptly clamber in, grab the keys, and shut it off.

Holy fucking shit.

She pays the guy and thanks him profusely, hugs me long and hard again, and then PULLS OUT A DIABETIC KIT TO CHECK HER BLOOD SUGAR LEVELS. I’M- JUST- WHAT.

“Oh my levels are so off-” WELL NO WONDER I THOUGHT YOU WERE STILL DRUNK.

Goodness gracious, woman.

I get another hug, and she gratefully calls me an angel. I just laugh it off and say I was in the right place at the right time, because honestly, I spent way too much of the four hours we spent together internally begging her to stop repeating herself to be anything close to an angel.

Never did catch her name, either.

Now I’m back on my bench, eating a breakfast burger I got from the cafe, and lamenting the fact I won’t be able to tell my mom about this misadventure because I don’t want to admit I didn’t go to work this morning. But y’know what? I’m glad I didn’t, or that poor fool of a woman might’ve spent another three hours wandering up and down the street, searching for her car, one block over from where it was parked.

(Also got to reaffirm a decision I made several years ago: I am never touching alcohol in my life ever.)

[alwayschoosechocolate]

One-night stands and one-shot chances (viii)

University AU

Pairing: Jin x reader

Who says sex has to mean anything? Who says you can’t just screw around without all the heartache? Who says only guys get this privilege? What happens when the biggest playboy on campus suddenly meets his match and gets a taste of his own medicine?

Genre: casual sex, mentions of sex, bestfriend!Hoseok, onenightstand!Jin

Word count: 3800

Taglist: @esplosionedicoloriintesta @jeonjunggoodgod @rjsmochii @spookidema @pariz-lover @mymochimchimmy @seokjinnieismine @cloudyelizabeth @livesmileandstaystrong @thisistoooooomuch @okaysoplshelpme @secondstanza @eanielsen07

Masterpost with the other parts of the story can be found here and my masterlist is here

A/N: Ah, it’s been a while, lovelies. Thanks for waiting for me! As promised after last chapter, the parts are going to be longer now, giving me more space to explore the characters and the story line, and you more time to enjoy the story - hopefully!  Enjoy! And please share your thoughts and reactions with me! I love hearing what you think! 

Story starts under the cut

As the last papers got handed in before the spring holiday and campus became close to deserted, you packed your weekend bag and made your way to Hoseok’s house. All the guys were going home during the break, and Hoseok had suggested you stayed at the house while they were gone to catch up on your sleep. After the sleepover in the living room the previous weekend, you had spent most nights with Hoseok, opting for sharing his bed instead of lying awake in your own, so when he suggested you stayed in the house over the break, you quickly accepted, rambling on about how you would clean the common areas as a thank you.

“Hobi,” you shouted as you walked through the door, hoping to catch him before he left. “I’m here!”

“In here!”

Following his voice to his room, you found him packing his bags, clothes neatly folded on the bed and the bags on the floor. You tossed your bag against the wall and giggled in excitement of getting the house to yourself for a week, as you walked up to give him a back hug, clinging to him like a koala as he continued packing.

“You’re in a good mood today,” he hummed absentmindedly as he held two shirts out in front of him. “Which one should I bring for my mom’s birthday dinner?” Twisting his torso so you could see the shirts, you hooked your chin on his shoulder as you took in the options.

“That one,” you stated, pointing at the simple white shirt. “But pair it with one of your more casual pants.”

Accepting your advice, he folded the shirt neatly again and placed it in the half-packed bag on the floor.

“You know, you’re still more than welcome to come home with me, right? My mom asked for you again just last night, when I was on the phone with her.”

“I know,” you hummed, giving his mid one last squeeze before jumping on the bed and making yourself comfortable. “But I’m fine with staying here. It just doesn’t feel right anymore. It feels…”

“Like something’s missing?”, he ended your sentence, cocking his head and looking at you with a soft expression. You nodded silently, letting out a deep sigh and rolling over on your back. “Yeah, I know. But it feels even more empty without either of you there.”

Musing a bit at his words, you stayed quiet and focused on the wooden panels on the ceiling, tracing the wood grains with your eyes. You stayed in comfortable silence as Hoseok packed the rest of his stuff and zipped up his back.

“Alright, babe. I’m leaving now. Try not to burn the house down, while we’re gone,” he grinned at you, before ducking away from the pillow flying at his head.

“There is nothing to burn down, Seokie,” you laughed, getting off the bed and walking over to give him a hug.

“’Seokie’, huh? You okay? You only call me that, when you’re feeling down,” he asked against your hair, as he fitted you perfectly under his chin.

“I’m fine, Hobi. Just looking forward to some days alone and some more sleep.”

“Alright. I left the key on the desk, and there is a bottle of your favorite wine in the kitchen. I also bought some of that god-awful coconut ice cream you love so much. Oh, and some of your favorite snacks…”

“Hobi, stop,” you giggled, making him halt in the middle of his rambles. “I can take care of myself for a week. I’m not an infant. But I do love that ice cream, so thank you.”

“… and a few packs of the ramen you always eat,” he ended his sentence after your interruption, making both of you burst out laughing. “I know you can take care of yourself. I just want to help you take care of yourself. And please call me if you need someone to talk to. Or call my mom! If you want. She would love to talk to you as well! And my sister as well!”

“Oh my god, Hoseok! Stop! Just go! You’ll be late for the extravagant dinner, that we both know your mom has prepared for her golden son’s return,” you laughed, pushing him towards the door.

“Alright. Alright, I’ll leave,” he grinned, putting his hands up in surrender. “But please promise to call me, if you change your mind? The drive is only two hours, and I could easily come pick you up.”

“Sure, I promise. Just please leave. You’re crowding my personal space, which has just expanded to the entire house, and I’m not happy about it,” you scolded him with a wicked grin, as you gave him one last push out of the front door.

“But I love you! How can you throw me out like this?”, he screeched dramatically from the front lawn, catching the attention of some of the neighbors. “I promise, I’ll remember to take out the trash from now on! Please just give me another chance!”

“Jesus, Hoseok. Really?”, you groaned in embarrassment at the puzzled looks being thrown your way. “You’re such a drama king! Just go already and say hi to your mom from me!”

“Oh, but mother will be heartbroken at your departure from my life. Please, my flower! Don’t throw me out!”

“Please, do throw him out. He’s way too dramatic for this house anyway,” Yoongi drawled as he walked up next to you, bag slung over his shoulder. “Hoseok, could you drop me off at the train station?”

“You insult my honor and then you ask for a favor?”, Hoseok gasped in feigned outrage, before dropping the act and laughing at his own joke. “Sure, but I’m leaving now.”

Giving you a quick side-hug, Yoongi scurried to the car and they drove away, but of course not without Hoseok screaming his love for you out the car window all the way down the block.

Grinning at his theatricalities, you walked back into the house and pulled the door closed. Looking around the living room, you let the quiet sink into your bones. There was no Jungkook yelling at some game he was playing. No Taehyung running around rambling about the latest class he had had about German romanticism. No Hoseok screaming at… well, just screaming in general. The entire house was dead quiet, and something told you not to disrupt it as you tiptoed through the living room, down the hall and into Hoseok’s room. Closing the door softly, you buried yourself under the covers, breathing in that familiar sent of Hoseok, that always reminded you of home.

Just a short nap, you thought to yourself, before drifting off to sleep.

-

Drawing a heavy sigh, Jin leaned back in his chair keeping an eye on the half-written assignment on his laptop. It was due yesterday, but he had managed to get it pushed to tomorrow morning. Which was great. Except he still had no fucking clue how to finish it. It was for that one class, he already had failed twice, and he really needed to pass this time. Reaching out for the papers scattered all over his bed, he skimmed through Jimin’s notes again, trying to make sense of the keywords he had scribbled down, when he took the class last semester. Turning the page, he read through your comments in the margin of the page, which added clarification to some of the statements. At least on the first few pages. On page 7, you and Jimin had had an entire conversation going on in the margins about where to go to lunch afterwards. And on page 12, you had complained about your roommate almost burning down the apartment in an attempt to cook dinner for her date. The next few pages were only class related, discussing possible subjects to write your rapport on. But on one of the last pages, you had written something about a cute guy, you had been seeing, and even though Jin knew the notes were from last semester, he couldn’t shake the irritation scratching in his chest at the thought of you dating another guy. And it wasn’t like he had read your comments specifically. He was using Jimins notes to write his assignment, and he needed to reread the notes for that. He hadn’t even read your comments the first few times. Or reread them a 1000-times more than the actual class notes. Of course not.

Groaning at himself he straightened back up, glancing at the clock. 6 pm. Pushing back from the table, he stood up from the desk and stretched his aching back. Maybe a walk would help him concentrate a bit. Slipping on his shoes and grabbing his phone and headset off the bed, he walked through the empty house to get to the front door.

All the guys had gone home, so he had the house to himself. Not that they knew though. They all thought he was home with his parents as well. He still hadn’t had the guts to tell them. That he couldn’t go home anymore. It was embarrassing to say the least. Shaking his head to clear it of the memories, he pulled the front door closed behind him and plugged in his in-ears, before starting off down the street.

-

Blinking lazily awake, you relished in the drowsy feeling in your limbs still weighing you down between the blankets. Briefly wondering what had awoken you, you suddenly felt your stomach growl, making you let out a light chuckle. Of course. You hadn’t had time for lunch today, and you were starving. Rolling over in a stretch, you let out a soundless yawn as you reached for your phone. A little past 6pm. Alright, it might be an early dinner, but you had nowhere to be and no schedule for the next few days, you reminded yourself, as you dragged your body out of bed and pulled on one of Hoseok’s sweatshirt before padding to the kitchen.

Passing the door to Jins room in the hall, your thoughts flickered to him and how little you had seen him lately. He hadn’t approached you on campus at all and when you had seen him around the house, he always excused himself and disappeared. Maybe it had been unfair of you to camp out at the house the entire week, but Hoseok had asked him and Jin had said it was okay. Continuing to the kitchen, you pushed the thoughts out of your head.

As promised, there was your bottle of wine on the counter against the fridge. Grinning to yourself, you grabbed a glass from the cupboard and poured yourself a glass. Taking the first sip, you closed your eyes and let the taste dance on your tongue. Humming in appreciation, you took another sip as you lazily floated to the kettle to boil some water for the ramen. Well, floated might be the wrong word to use, but it really felt like that. Humming to yourself as you prepared the ramen, you took another sip of wine waiting for the ramen to be ready to eat. Once it was ready, you ate it in silence standing over the counter, taking a sip of your wine every now and then. Quietly cleaning up after yourself afterwards, you poured another glass of wine before walking back to Hoseok’s room and pulling out your laptop.

Scrolling through Netflix for a while, you finally settled on ‘Princess Diaries’. Grinning in excitement, you quickly pulled out your headset, since the speakers on your computer didn’t work. Settling under the covers with your wine and the computer, you took a sip of your glass before starting the movie.

-

Walking through the door an hour later, Jin felt a little more at ease. The walk had cleared his head a bit and actually given him a few ideas on how to approach the rest of the assignment. He had bought some food from a grill on the way home and eaten it on the way, so he was ready to go back to work. Walking straight to his room, he kept his headset on, switching to his study playlist and readied himself for a study bubble marathon, meaning he wouldn’t stop until he was done with the assignment. Casting a glance at Jimins notes, he quickly gathered them and deposited them on the other side of the room so he wouldn’t be distracted (by you), before he settled at his desk and pulled up the document once more.

-

When the end credits to ‘Princess Diaries 2’ rolled over the screen, you decided to call it a night. Despite your long nap earlier, a few glasses of wine and two movies was a sure recipe for a good night’s sleep in your book.  

Hoseok had called a few hours earlier to check if you were still alive and after pleading for you to come join him a few more times, you wished each other good night and ended the call.

Searching through your bag, you pulled out your toothbrush and toothpaste and ventured across the hall to the bathroom.

-

Clicking save one last time, Jin drew a relieved sigh as he triple-checked the word-count to make sure he met the acquired words. He was done. He even had 200 words more than the minimum, which was a first for him. All he needed now was to proofread it, but first he needed to energize a bit. Standing up in a stretch, he gave a satisfied nod at his laptop, before walking out of his room to the kitchen to get a red bull.

-

Drying your face on a towel, you pulled your hair up in a high bun before turning off the lights in the bathroom and walking back to Hoseok’s room, where you turned off the lights and snuggled down under the covers.

-

Snatching the can from the fridge and taking a big gulp right there, Jin noticed the unmistakable smell of ramen in the kitchen. One of the guys must have grabbed a bite to eat before leaving to go home. Feeling a little sad at the prospect of being without any of the guys for an entire week, Jin’s thoughts wandered to his different housemates and what they might be doing now. Yoongi might still be underway as he had to take both a train and two buses before reaching home. Jungkook was definitely already home. His brother had picked him up on the way home himself, and they had probably spent the time on the road singing along to the radio, like Jungkook and Jin usually did when no one was around to see them. Jimin never had classes on Fridays, so he left yesterday. His brother’s birthday was today, so he was probably out celebrating with him. Tae and Namjoon had rented a car together, as their parents lived in the same city and they should be home by now, Jin calculated in his head as he emptied the can and threw it out.

And Hoseok. Well, Hoseok left this afternoon with you. You always spent the spring holiday with Hoseok. It was his mom’s birthday and you were part of the family, as Jin had heard Hoseok remind you of several times. Despite the amount of times you had turned down Hoseok’s invitation, Jin was certain that you had gone with him anyway. Saying no to your best friend wasn’t one of your strong suits. Unlike saying no to Jin, which seemed to be a secret talent of yours, Jin thought with an annoyed huff as he walked back to his room to finish the assignment and mail it to the professor.

-

Waking up the next morning, you felt relaxed and comfortable as the light fell in through the curtains, you had forgotten to close last night. Smiling lazily to yourself, you reached over for your phone on the nightstand to check the time. It was only 7 in the morning, but your body was restless, and you suddenly felt like going for a run.

Getting up to change into your running gear, you did a few stretches to warm up your muscles before tying your running shoes and leaving the house.

-

Startled awake, Jin sat up abruptly, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Listening for what awoke him, he was only met by the quiet of the empty house.

“Must have been a bad dream,” he mumbled to himself, as he sank back against the pillow with a yawn, dozing off again.

When his phone rang a little later, he lazily rolled over to grab it off the nightstand.

“What?”, he growled, voice muffled against the pillow.

“Morning, Jin,” Namjoon’s upbeat voice greeted him. “Sorry, if I woke you. I just wanted to remind you to pack that book I borrowed you last time you went back to your parents. I promised Jimin he could read it.”

Fuck. The book.

Suddenly very awake, Jin swung his legs out of bed and sat up.  

“Yeah, sure. Don’t worry about Joon. I’m looking at it right now. I’ll bring it back next weekend.”

“Alright, great. Thanks! How are your parents? Are yours as curious about your love life as mine are?”, Namjoon chuckled into the phone, making Jin's palms break out in cold sweat, as he let out a very poor imitation of a laugh.

“Sure are. I gotta go though. Promised I would help with breakfast. Talk to you soon,” Jin rambled, hanging up the phone with a pounding heart.

Goddammit. The fucking book. He had completely forgotten all about it. How was he supposed to get a new one before Namjoon got back?

Sighing in annoyance at himself, he ran a hand through his hair before getting up and walking to the bathroom to shower.

One problem at a time.

Maybe he would do a facemask afterwards and relax with a movie, he thought to himself as he stepped under the warm water, trying to ignore his fathers scolding tone in the back of his mind.

-

Gasping for air as you almost fell through the door after your run, you cursed yourself for not exercising more often. Heaving for air you walked to the kitchen to get some water with the music still blasting through your in-ears. Standing by the counter, you gulped down two glasses of water as you let your body cool down a bit, before walking to Hoseok’s room to get a towel so you could shower.

-

Jin stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his hips. Reaching for the face mask in the cabinet, he stepped up to mirror and applied the sheet mask, smoothing in down on his cheeks and under his chin.

-

Discarding your shirt, sports bra and pants in the room, you grabbed a towel and walked across the hall to the bathroom. Humming along to the song from your in-ears, you reached for the doorknob.

-

Throwing one last look in the mirror, Jin grabbed the doorknob and pulled open the door, walking straight into a person.

A naked person.

The person let out a surprised shriek, that sounded vaguely familiar, but in the same second she lost her balance and Jin reached out to help her by instinct only to lose his own balance and before he knew it, he was on the floor with the woman on top of him.

“What the fuck?!” She screamed, scrambling off him and covering herself with a towel. “Who are you, and what are you doing here?”

“What I’m doing here?! I live here! What the hell are you doing here?”, Jin roared at the women, who was currently too occupied in securing the towel around her to look at him. But it only took Jin a few seconds to place her. “Y/n?!”

Startled by your own name, your eyes shot up to the man’s face, which was still covered by a sheet mask. But the broad shoulders paired with that voice was unmistakable.

“Jin!? What the hell? I thought you were by your parents?”, you groaned, still stuck in outrage of being caught naked.

Quickly tearing the mask from his face, he rolled his eyes at your words.

“And I didn’t think I had to inform you about me being in my own house! What are you even doing here?”, he asked in annoyance.

“Hoseok said, I could stay here during the break, since you were all at home anyway. I didn’t know, you were here.” As the anger left your voice, you took in Jin’s irritated state. “I’m sorry. I get it if you don’t want me here. Let me just pack my bags and I’ll go home.”

“Wait,” Jin exclaimed, suddenly a bit panicky. “You can stay. Under one condition,” he stated, making you roll your eyes.

“If it’s sex, I would rather go home, Jin,” you huffed in annoyance.

“It’s not sex, you idiot,” he spat at you, making your eyes widen in surprise. “Not everything in this world is about sex.”

“Sorry. What is it then?”

He suddenly seemed… hesitant. Nervous. His eyes were shifty, and you could see the strain in his shoulders. If you hadn’t known better, you would say he was scared. But that couldn’t be. What could he be afraid of?

“You can stay here,” he repeated, swallowing visibly under your gaze. “As long as you don’t tell the rest of the guys, that I was here as well.”

Blinking at him in surprise, you tried to figure out what was going through his head. This was definitely not a side of Jin, you were used to seeing, and you didn’t know him well enough to anticipate his next words either.

“Just… We can stay here, both of us. If you feel more comfortable with it, we can just act like we don’t know each other. Like we just share a kitchen. Or I can make sure to not get in your way and stay quiet. Or I can cook for you and we can eat together? Only if you want of course. Just. Whatever you feel most comfortable with. Just please don’t tell the others I’m here as well.”

His words were pleading, and his eyes widened in fright. Not of you. You were quite sure about that. But he was definitely afraid of something. He should be the one in control here. The one with the power to throw you out on your ass. And yet he was asking you for a favor.

“Okay. I won’t tell them. But I have a condition as well?”, you half stated, half asked, looking at him hesitantly, only to get an eager nod back. “No sexist comments. No flirting. No cheesy lines. No commenting on my body. This house will be a genderless, sexless, non-flirty safe-zone for the first time in it’s life,” you stated in a declarative tone, earning a snort of laughter from Jin.

“Whatever you say,” he laughed at you, and you found yourself grinning back at him.

Oh, this could be interesting.

A/N: Ah, one last comment! The scene with Jin and Y/n running into each other half-naked was shamelessly stolen from the movie The Proposal, which is coincidentally one of my favorite movies! 

// Part ix //

[something-tofightfor]

Just a Place - Part 7

Pairing: Ryan Brenner x Reader

Word Count: 8900

Rating: M (language)

Summary: Thanksgiving and Christmas with Ryan Brenner - enough said.

** You will not understand a darn thing in this if you haven’t read “Neon Lights”, which can be found on my Masterlist page **

Author’s Note: Another long chapter to make up for it being a long time since I last updated... enjoy. 

Feel free to ask me to add you!

Tag list: @traeumerinwitzhelden @mfackenthal @songtoyou @obscurilicious @elanor-of-imladris @thesumofmychoices @suchatinyinfinity @audreychaz @benbarnestongue @its-my-little-dumpster-fire @the-blind-assassin-12 @ms-delos @lexxierave @dreams-with-thoughts @gollyderek @agentlingerie

POV - You 

 You pushed the cart through the crowded grocery store, trying to keep from blowing up at the people in your way. Yep, the middle of the aisle is the perfect place for your conversation. You rolled your eyes, turning the corner and slamming the brakes on to avoid running into a woman tugging her young child behind her by one hand. “Shit!” You said it quietly, but the woman still gave you a look and you returned it with a scowl, waiting until she’d disappeared down the aisle you’d just turned out of before continuing, scanning the path in front of you for a familiar tan coat. Get in, get out, get home. That’s what I said, and now… 

 Finally, you found Ryan standing in front of the canned vegetables, a frown of his own on his face. “What’s wrong, Ry?” He shook his head, turning to look at you. “We need corn, so…” 

 “My Ma used to make this… thing. She called it corn puddin’ when I was a kid, and I haven’t had it in years. But I don’t know the recipe.” Despite your annoyance at the crowded grocery store, you felt yourself smile, adjusting the cart so that it was right next to the shelves. “You don’t…”

 “Corn casserole?” You raised an eyebrow. “Ryan, that was a staple at my Thanksgiving dinners growing up. I can’t promise it’ll be exactly the same, but I can try.” His lips parted as he looked at you in surprise and you continued. “As long as you don’t mind regular corn, too, I have to have something to mix in with my potatoes and gravy.” He laughed, nodding. “We’ll need both kinds.” You looked at your list, chewing on your lip. “I’d say… six cans of creamed and five regular? I’ll make a double batch.” You paused as he reached for the cans, pulling one of the partially empty packing boxes off of the shelf and setting it down on the bottom of the cart before placing cans neatly into it. “And I guess an extra five cans of the regular, too, we’ll need it.” He nodded, counting silently, moving lips the only thing giving him away. 

 “We’re gonna have enough food for an army.” Though he said it in a joking manner, you didn’t dispute him - he was right. We kind of have to. “Alright, there we go.” He stood up straight, pointing. “Beans next?” You nodded, pulling the cart back a foot or so so that it was positioned beneath the picked-over green bean shelf space, stacking another twenty cans of those in the bottom of the cart. I’m going to be cooking for a week straight.  “Where now?” Ryan’s quiet voice cut into your thoughts and you blinked at him, thinking. 

 “Gotta go bet bacon and milk… butter…” You pressed your lips together, hands tightening on the handle of the cart. “Turkey’s already at the house thawing... “ 

 “Potatoes?” He grinned at you. “You said yesterday you needed your weight in mashed potatoes and stuffing.” You giggled at him and nodded. “Alright. Go.” He gestured toward the end of the aisle and you moved to turn the cart, groaning out loud as you had to stop yet again for a woman on her cell phone that was leaning on the handle of her cart, hip stuck out and blocking the entire aisle. “Hey.” Ryan reached out, touching your arm. “Let me push. You’re gonna kill someone.” I am. Gladly. You gestured to the handle of the cart and stepped aside, Ryan moving next to you and leaning down to kiss you on the cheek. “I love it when you’re annoyed at someone that’s not me.” Your lips again twitched into a small smile as he turned the cart smoothly, stopping just before the woman. “‘Scuse me, ma’am.” She looked up, her eyes widening as she saw Ryan. “Need to get past you.” Without pause, the woman stepped aside, her eyes never leaving Ryan’s face, teeth digging into her lower lip as her conversation stopped Figures. Typical. 

 Feeling slightly petty, you stepped next to him, linking your arm with his and smirking as you passed her. Ryan shook his head next to you but didn’t say anything, clearing his throat and stepping into the main aisle before turning toward the dairy section. “We need to make a stop in the beer aisle too, Ryan.” This time, he laughed, even as you dropped your arm from his and stepped in front of him, glancing over your shoulder. “It’s not Thanksgiving unless you get drunk while you’re cooking.” 

 An hour later, you were unpacking the groceries in your kitchen, Ryan arranging the cold foods in the second refrigerator while you carefully packed boxes and packages into the cupboards and cabinets to pull out as you needed them. “Hey.” He stepped back into the room, phone in his hand. “Matt wants to know if he can bring his girl, I know we didn’t -”

 “Of course.” You grinned, nodding. “So that’ll make what, nine plus us?” He thought for a few moments before agreeing. “Space will be tight for them all to stay, but we’ve got the couch, and some air mattresses, and…” 

 “That’s not a problem, none of us are used to… well.” He paused, eyeing you. “I’m used to our bed now, but a few nights on spare mattresses or couches? Not a big deal.” You felt yourself blushing but Ryan didn’t look away, instead moving closer to you without breaking eye contact. “I’m going to help you out as much as I can, but I’m not that great in the kitchen, so I don’t know how much I can do. I’d prob’ly be a bigger help out of here.” He tucked his phone into his pocket as he reached you, one arm circling your waist as he pulled you close, using the tattooed fingers of his other hand to tilt your face upward so that he could kiss you gently. “I love you.” You closed your eyes and kissed him back, reaching around to put your hands on his waist, thumbs slipping into his belt loops. 

 “Love you too,” you murmured as you pulled away, shaking your head. “But that doesn’t mean that you won’t be the one opening all of those cans.” He laughed as he turned away from you, heading back into the living room. “I’m serious, Brenner.” 

 “I know.” 

 --- 

 You stood in front of the stove, stirring a pan full of gravy and humming to yourself as Ryan and his friends gathered in the living room. Your guests had started trickling in two days prior, but that afternoon, there were people in every room. Jack and Matt and Matt’s girlfriend Brynn had been the first to arrive, followed by Chris and Jameson from Seattle later that evening and two young men that were barely in their twenties named Charlie and Thomas that Ryan had met in Chicago. David and Lauren were there too, accepting the invitation that Ryan had offered them without pause as both of their families lived out of state. Though you’d been determined to cook everything from scratch, the other woman had offered to bring dessert in the form of pies and a pan of the lemon bars that Ryan had sworn to you were good enough to make him forget his own name, though he’d never been able to hold off on eating long enough to get one home to you so that you could find out for yourself. Saves me hours. I’m not complaining. 

 For the first time since you’d moved in, the house was full - and though none of them were your friends, you felt as close to home as you had in years, hearing the sounds of assorted instruments and voices carrying through the archway into the kitchen - making the house feel almost alive. And we’re only here for a few more months anyway. You’d extended the lease on the house to the end of March, but hadn’t wanted to delay the process of moving any more than that, because you wanted to be closer to the west coast by the time that your exhibit opened. Ryan had agreed eagerly, excited to see more of the country and to reconnect with more friends. 

 He’d explained what he was trying to do with his music to Matt and Jack, and the three of them had started to brainstorm, locked in the spare room playing and listening to old recordings while you and Brynn had lounged on the couch, the girl enjoying the fact that she could relax for a few days in total comfort. She’d been a huge help in the kitchen, cutting down your prep time by a lot, but true to your threat, Ryan had spent more than an hour opening cans and helping you peel potatoes that morning while everyone else took turns showering. “Hey.” Glancing back in the direction of the living room, you saw Ryan standing just inside the doorway, a wide smile on his face. “Smells amazin’.” Good. 

 You motioned him over, sticking a spoon into the gravy and then holding it out to him to taste. “Well?” Ryan’s eyes closed, tongue moving over his lips. 

 “Perfect.” He shook his head, opening his eyes again and reaching out to take the spoon from your hand before placing it in the sink. “You should taste it, too.” The next thing you knew, Ryan was kissing you, his hand in your hair as he held you close. You sighed into him, using both hands to grip his shirt and pull him closer. “Told you.” He licked his lips as he pulled back, eyes still half closed and a lazy smile on his face. “I can’t believe you got all this done, and it’s all gonna be ready at the same time.” He kissed you again. “It’s impressive.” 

 “Thank you, Ry.” You finally let him go, reaching up to place a palm on his chest. “It’s going to be ready in about fifteen minutes, if you want to let everyone know.” He nodded, not taking his eyes off of you. “What?” Ryan looked at you carefully, unsure of what to say for a moment. 

 “I just…” He shook his head, hand resting on your hip. “These are my friends, not yours, and your house is full of ‘em, and… I don’t know what I did to deserve this.” He stopped. “To deserve you.” 

 “You promised me Christmas, Ryan Brenner.” You fought back a lump in your throat, hand sliding up to his neck and then the side of his head, stroking your fingers through his hair. “Just you and me and a tree. And this isn’t my house, it’s ours. So…” With a single nod of his head, Ryan agreed, lips finding yours again briefly. 

 The sound of someone clearing their throat jolted you away from him, but Ryan still didn’t remove his hand from you as both of you turned to look at the doorway where Charlie was standing with Lauren. “Can we help get stuff to the table?” With a squeeze to your hip, Ryan stepped away from you and toward the pair, gesturing back in your direction. Without pause, Lauren and Charlie moved toward you, waiting for your instructions. 

 “Alright, so we just need to start carrying this out to the table. There are pot

holders on the counter and…” 

 --- 

 Later that night, you and Ryan were lying in bed, him on his back and you on your side right up against him while your fingers traced over the tattoo on his ribs, your eyelids heavy. “What you did tonight…” Ryan started, his voice quiet. “What you did for all those people this week? All of my friends?” His hand was resting on your bare hip, fingers gently pressed into the flesh as he spoke. “These holidays aren’t always easy when you live like we… like they do.” He still sees himself… “You gave ‘em a place to feel at home, somewhere they felt…”

 “They’re your family, Ryan.” You kissed his shoulder, thinking. “Not by blood, but… they mean just as much to you as an actual relative would.” He was quiet, and from outside of the closed door you heard Brynn’s laugh from the room across the hall. “I -”

 “You’re my family, too.” His words were quiet and you didn’t hear any hesitation in them, but they still made your breath catch in disbelief. What? “You know that, right?” He shifted onto his side, rolling toward you. Even in the dark of the room, you could see his eyes, the furrow of his brow. “You’re family now. Have been for... “ He paused. “Since before I found you again.” You could feel your own heart pounding, mind working overtime to process his words. “I know you have your aunt, but…”

 “You’re… shit, Ryan.” You felt tears running down your cheeks and Ryan’s hand quickly moved up to wipe them away, fingers lingering on your skin. “I never thought that I’d have this again, and especially not with someone like you, not after my parents...” He leaned in, kissing you on the forehead before pressing his lips against yours, breath hitting your face as he exhaled. His hand had dropped to the side of your neck, thumb moving slowly back and forth on the skin just beneath your jaw. You didn’t know what else to say to Ryan in return; didn’t know how to tell him that he was the only family you’d ever need, that he made you feel safe and loved and important, that you didn’t want anyone else, that you likely never would. He has to know, he has to understand. “I love you so much, Ryan.” Your voice was thick with tears and you felt him nod slowly, hand still against your neck.

 “I know you do.” He sighed, shifting his hips as you tightened your hold on his side. “You don’t gotta tell me that, because -”

 “But I do, because…” You stopped, waiting. “Because you need to hear it.” Swallowing, you lifted your head, leaning over to kiss him on the cheek, lips finding the skin above his beard. “I had my parents growing up, and my aunt and uncle, and that was it. No cousins, no siblings no… no grandparents.” You looked down at Ryan, hand still pressed flat against his ribs, the inner part of his bicep resting against the back of your hand. “When I lost my parents, it felt like I lost everything, Ryan. I was numb, I was… I just threw myself back into work and ignored everything that I could. I ignored the trial, ignored my aunt, ignored the feelings that I knew I was supposed to be having.” 

 “Come here.” Ryan’s hand slid down your side, pulling you closer and without hesitation, you lowered yourself back onto him, feeling his other arm circling you as he pulled you to his chest. “Keep talkin’.” You waited a few seconds, concentrating on his hand - the rough fingers moving against the middle of your back and calming you, and then you continued. 

 “I knew I’d have to deal with it eventually, but it was like… the house was  paid off - and as long as I paid the monthly bills and all that, I could keep from having to go back there, keep from having to deal with it.” You sighed, feeling the tears coming again. “Running from stuff isn’t the answer, but how else do you deal with…” He kissed the top of your head, muttering the words ‘I know’ as you hitched a leg over his, wanting to get closer to him. “And then I met you, and I was just… happy for those few days in Vegas. You came out of nowhere, and I felt a connection to you, Ryan, and even though it was just a short time, just those few hours spent with you… I felt like myself again. You did that for me.” What are you even getting at? 

 “When I was with Jackie, I didn’t feel like myself.” He paused. “Not the whole time, anyway. When she was praisin’ me for my talent or encouraging me, I felt like a lot of things were right, but…” Ryan stopped speaking, the room silent. “It got a little better when I left Utah, but the more I thought, the more I realized that even before Utah, somethin’ was off, somethin’ wasn’t … I wasn’t me.” Ryan stopped speaking, and you relaxed, ears trained on the rest of the house, listening for noises that any of your guests might have made. “I went to Vegas by chance, did I ever tell you that?”

 “You didn’t.” Ryan tightened his grip on you, laughing quietly. 

 “Stopped in Phoenix because it was too damn hot to be on the trains and met a girl in a coffee shop.” He cleared his throat. “She worked there, traded me a muffin and a refill to hear a song, and playin’ with her and hearing her sing… it woke me up.” You heard his voice change slightly as he remembered this woman, but before you could dwell on it, he continued. “She mentioned that Vegas would be a good place for me to play, said that she and her fiance had been there a few months prior, that she thought I’d do well out there…” Ryan sighed. “And so I went from Phoenix to Vegas and the rest… you know.” 

 “So you’d never even thought of it before?” He replied with a no, followed with a short laugh. “So you’re telling me that without the recommendation of some random person in Phoenix, we’d never have met? You’d never have… we’d never have this?” Ryan was quiet for nearly a minute, and you opened your mouth to speak when he beat you to it. 

 “You know, I’m not sure.” Ryan sighed. “I think about that a lot - think about meetin’ you and what it… how it happened.” Ryan’s hand slid down your back and to your waist, fingers still moving in slow circles. “I still would have ended up in Colorado and Seattle, still would have gone to Chicago and to St. Louis… you had nothin’ to do with me gettin’ hurt… so I think, honestly, that we still could have met in that park in Philadelphia.” You do? But… 

 “But I only went home because of you, Ryan.” Your voice was quiet, thoughts jumbled. “I never would have…”

 “You woulda. Eventually. Things happen and we can’t explain ‘em, but I feel like we were supposed to meet. And if it hadn’t been in Vegas, it would have been…” He sighed. “Somewhere.” Ryan’s grip on you tightened again. “I refuse to believe that there’s any chance we missed each other or missed this.” He said your name, the intent clear. “But it doesn’t matter, because we met in Vegas and we’re here now, and we’re never gonna…” You cut him off as you turned your head to kiss him hard on the mouth, catching him by surprise. You didn’t believe in fate, didn’t believe in things being destined to happen - but you weren’t going to question or doubt Ryan’s presence in your life or what you meant to each other - why would you? 

 Though still full from dinner and extraordinarily tired, you felt your body moving before you’d thought it through, right knee supporting your weight as you swung your left leg over Ryan’s hips, straddling his waist.  You hadn’t bothered to put pajamas on before sliding into bed next to him, and Ryan’s eyes opened fully as he stared up at you, hands resting on your waist and your palms flat on his stomach. He was smiling - that tiny smirk that you loved so much present on his lips, and you returned the expression, nails scratching into the dark hair below his navel as you curled your fingers, causing him to groan quietly. “No.” You shook your head, winking down at him. “We’re never going miss each other like that again.” 

--- 

 POV: Ryan 

 “You wanted to see me, David?” Ryan stood in the man’s tiny office, one hand on the back of his neck, the other stuffed into the pocket of his jacket. “I just finished up at the site, and stopped back to -”

 “Come in, Ryan.” David had a small stack of papers on the desk in front of him, but he gestured to the chair across from his seat, a smile on his face. “Everything go alright? I know all you had to do today was finish with the drywall.” Ryan took a seat, nodding but confused about what the meeting was for. He’d had no problems, no issues on the job or with David - or any of the other contractors he’d worked with since accepting the position, but David hadn’t ever wanted a meeting like this with him before. Things were fine last week at Thanksgiving, what… “I just wanted to talk with you about something.” He’s firing me. What did I do?

 “What’s going on, David? The drywall went fine, I may have to go back tomorrow and touch the mudding up, but -”

 “No, Ryan. I know it’s fine, that’s not…” David shook his head. “I wanted to talk to you about something because you’re the most… competent guy I have on the crew.” Ryan relaxed slightly, leaning back in his chair and waiting. Ok, so maybe I’m not getting fired. “I bought a house.” Ryan’s eyes widened, a smile spreading over his face. “Not for me and Lauren, but… to flip.” Oh, shit. “Here, take a look at this.” David slid some of the papers across the desk to Ryan, continuing. “These are pictures of the inside, tell me what needs to be done.” Ryan picked up each piece of paper, studying them carefully. 

 “Well, the flooring needs to be repaired or replaced, depending on what you want done with this room,” he said pointing at one of the images. “The walls need some patches, and the ceiling in this room… a bedroom, maybe? Looks like it’s leaking, so the roof would need to be checked, and maybe the pipes, if this is on the lower floor…” Ryan continued for a few minutes, pointing out kitchen counters and tiles, the worn carpet, a basement that needed to have electrical lines re-run and the front porch, which needed some brickwork until David stopped him. 

 “You caught things I didn’t even see, Ryan, and these are only pictures.” Ryan took a breath, waiting. “I wanted to bring you in here because I want you to lead this project for me.” His eyes widened and Ryan sat up straighter, listening. “That means you’d be giving instructions to the other guys, making decisions about supply orders, overseeing things as well as getting your hands on experience.” David took a deep breath. “I know you guys will be leaving sometime in March, and while I’m not happy to be losing you, you’ve done more for me in these last five months than a lot of the guys that I’ve been working with for years, and I want to help you out.”

 “You want me to lead a… I’ve never done anythin’ like this before.” David shook his head, pointing to the images. 

 “You have, though. This is a lot of small projects at once instead of a big one alone. Lauren and I have wanted to get in on this for a while, and the opportunity came up, so I jumped on it. She’s going to be in charge of the design aspects, but you’re going to be the one that decides what needs to be done construction wise, you’ll have the entire budget to work with.” Ryan’s heart was pounding, but he felt himself nodding, eyes moving back to the papers in front of him. “So it’s more responsibility, but that also means more pay.” His eyes flicked upward to David’s, and Ryan remained silent. “You’ll get a bumped hourly wage, and then when the house sells, a portion of the sale price.”

 “Why? Why would you -” David cut him off, holding up a finger. 

 “This flip shouldn’t take longer than two months, tops. This one’s not that difficult, and I’ll be workin’ with you since you don’t know all of the permit laws and everything, but -” David slid another paper over to Ryan, who stared down at it quietly. “You’ll get a portion of the sale of the house, because when this one’s done, as soon as it sells, I plan on moving right into a second flip and I figured you’d want to invest in it with me and make some real money when that one sells.” David shrugged. “You’re the closest thing I’ve ever had to a partner, Ryan. I trust you, and know you’re a hard worker. This is going to happen, and it’s going to happen how we want it to.” 

 “I’ll need to talk to -” David nodded, a smile on his face. “I’m definitely interested in takin’ lead on this one, but for the next one, and investin’, I can’t just…”

 “I figured as much, and that’s fine.” David shrugged. “Second house won’t even be up for sale until the new year, so you’ve got plenty of time.” David raised an eyebrow. “Hell, we might find that we’ve bitten off more than we can chew and not want to worry about a second house, but I doubt it.” Ryan laughed and David did too, shaking his head back and forth. “We’ll start working on this one late next week; you should only have what, two more days on the current project?” Ryan shook his head. 

 “I should be able to finish most of it tomorrow, sanding and painting are all that’s left, but if I have to mud anything else…” David’s head moved up and down slowly, and Ryan couldn’t stop himself from asking a question. “Why me? You don’t know me, and you -”

 “I know enough, Ryan. I see how hard you work, how much you care about what you do, and I want to help you out, because like I said, I know I won’t have you here forever.” Ryan stood again, reaching a hand out to shake one of David’s, still in disbelief. “We’ll talk more about this next week, but like I said, we’re already working on picking out colors and wood and all that, so we’re rolling.” Ryan paused on his way out of the office, turning to look back at David. 

 “Thank you, David.” He swallowed, giving the other man a curt nod. “I won’t disappoint you.” 

 --- 

 He’d told you the good news later that night, your excited squeal more than enough to alleviate some of the worry from his mind. You’d jumped up from the dinner table to hug him tightly, arms around his neck as you kissed his cheek. “That’s a big deal, Ryan! This is like… your project. You get to tell people what to do, and to …”

 “Hey.” He couldn’t keep the smile off of his face, but Ryan shook his head. “I’m not going to boss anyone around, I’m just…”

 “I know Ry, but he’s basically letting you take over on this, you’ll be responsible for how it all turns out and comes together, and what needs to be…” You pulled away from him, settling back into your chair. 

 “What if I screw up?” He was playing with his fork, hair hanging over his eye as he stared down at his plate. “What if I don’t make the right call or don’t order enough of something, or… I never learned this, never went to school, or -”

 “Ryan, you did learn it, though. You’ve been doing construction for years, picked up so much from your friends and coworkers. You can do this, and you will. Will you screw up? Probably, but it’s fine, it’s going to happen.” He watched you, eyes focused on your face. “You’ve got to learn somehow, and this is perfect.” You chewed on your lip. “David’s going to teach you what he knows, and then you can… I don’t know, use it wherever we go?” He nodded. “And Ryan, you actually investing in the next house he buys? That’s perfect. Gives you more incentive to work harder.” You reached out, hand finding his. “That’ll give you a cushion, Ryan. Give you freedom, and a chance to -”

 “I’ll be able to pay you back for this place and for the next place, too.” He swallowed, determined. “You won’t be the only one providin’ for us when we pick somewhere else to live.” He watched as your expression changed, a small frown on your lips. “That’s important to me.” You sighed but nodded, returning to your plate and your food. I know you can afford it, but you shouldn’t have to. It was quiet in the dining room for a few minutes, both of you eating, and Ryan decided to change the subject. “So what do you want for Christmas?” 

 --- 

 The weeks between Thanksgving and Christmas passed quickly - Ryan working tirelessly on the house project with David and the rest of his team, and though it was hard work - demanding and precise, Ryan found that he enjoyed it. He learned more about electrical work from David himself, got tips about flooring and laying tile from Andrew, and even learned some things about decorating from Lauren, whose enthusiasm about the project carried over to the rest of the men. Ryan was surprised at the confidence he felt as each day passed, and was pleased with the progress that had been made on the home’s interior, even though much of it had yet to be completed.

 David made sure that Ryan still got away from the project early enough a few nights a week to play out and to make it to his lessons, but two of the students had gone on vacation over their break from school, leaving him with only one to teach for most of December. His playing hadn’t suffered, despite his long hours at work - in fact, Ryan was almost more focused on it as the time passed, returning to writing original music as he planned out a short list of people that he wanted to reach out to and see about playing with as the two of you traveled. 

 You were understanding of his constantly changing schedule; though you’d told him that you missed him being there when you woke up in the morning, you never complained about him leaving early for work, never chastised him for tracking sawdust through the house or forgetting to put dishes in the sink because he’d left them on the table next to the couch. You understood how hard he was working, simply asking if there was anything you could do to help - and he appreciated it more than he could say to you, so he tried to show you instead. 

 He knew that you didn’t need grand gestures or declarations of love from him, so Ryan would find small ways to make you smile - leaving your mug next to the coffee maker in the morning, thumbing the thermostat up a degree or two before he left so that when you woke, the house wouldn’t be too cold, stopping on the way home to rent a movie for you to watch because you’d mentioned that you wanted to see it, even if you only made it through half of the movie before one (or both) of you developed a case of wandering hands. Before you, he’d had a very specific idea of what a relationship - what staying would be like, and while he didn’t know if things would have been the same with someone else, he was almost certain that they wouldn’t have been. And I’m glad. The bottom line was that while Ryan appreciated everything about you, it went deeper than that - and both of you knew it. 

 “Hey.” He stopped in the doorway of the office, where you were scrolling through images on the computer and sorting through them as you chose for your next show. “Do you have a minute?” You sighed, hand dropping away from the mouse as you swiveled the chair around to face him. 

 “Yeah, Ry. What’s up?” He knew that you were stressing - that you wanted to include some of the same images from before, but also were worried that you didn’t have enough new choices to make for a cohesive display. She needs a break. “I think I’ve got the first 60 narrowed down, so…”

 “Get dressed.” He watched as you paused, biting the inside of your cheek. “Come on, I’m gonna take you out for dinner.” He had the night off - no lesson, no gig, no extra work for David, and he knew that you’d never turn down the opportunity to spend time with him. “And then,” he said as he stepped toward you, extending his hand. “Then we’re going to buy a Christmas tree.” The look on your face was one of shock and happiness, and you gripped his fingers tightly, nearly bouncing to your feet. “Yeah?” 

 “Ryan, I haven’t had a tree in …”

 “I haven’t had a real tree in over a decade,” he replied as he leaned forward to kiss you on the temple. “So I’ve got you beat.” You laughed at him but dropped his hand to hurry from the room, computer and images forgotten as you got dressed in boots and a coat, making your way into the living room before he’d even finished tying his laces. “Mexican alright? We haven’t been to 3 Matadors in a long time.” You nodded, grabbing your purse, but Ryan’s hand closed over yours, head shaking back and forth. “You can bring it with you, but you’re not payin’ for anything.” Don’t argue with me. You didn’t, your hand reaching over to push the hair back from his eyes as you stared at him, a smile on your lips. God, it feels good to be able to say that. 

 --- 

 An hour and a half later, both of you were full and happy, enjoying the rare date night out as you searched for a parking spot near one of the lots that was close to your house. “In a Chick Fil A parking lot?” You wrinkled your nose, laughing. “They’ll put these tree lots anywhere.” Ryan shrugged, pulling the car into a vacant spot and putting it into park. 

 “We’re ten miles from the ocean, can’t expect snow and fields of trees where you can cut them down yourself, right?” You shook your head, opening your door, and by the time Ryan had joined you at the back end of your car, you were already grinning. “Ready?” You nodded quickly, taking his hand and pulling him toward the trees and the people milling around without speaking again. Here we go. 

 You searched the lot for almost half an hour, Ryan following you around as you made your way from tree to tree, eyes lighting up as you found one that you thought was good, only to turn it and see a bare spot, or have him pull it toward him to find that it was crooked. “It’s gotta be right, Ryan.” He heard the anxiety creeping into your voice and so he finally stepped forward after waiting for two kids to move past, chasing each other down the corridor between rows of trees. 

 “Hey!” You turned at the sound of his voice, one of his hands reaching up to settle on your shoulder as he pulled you closer before the two of you continued to walk. “You almost…” he pointed down, where there was a large muddy area near your feet. “Watch out.” Both of you stepped over the spot, moving in unison. “Don’t worry, we’ll find one.” He kissed the top of your head, feeling as you settled in against him. “This was supposed to be fun for you, not…” He stopped as his eyes fell on a tree a few feet away, moving quickly from top to bottom. That one. He nudged you, noticing that you were looking in the opposite direction. “Look.” Ryan’s hand rose, the fingers on his left hand extended toward the tree. “What about that one?” 

 “Oh.” He heard your voice catch, feeling as you stepped away from him. “I…” He followed you, the sounds of the other people in the lot fading as you touched the branches, fingers skimming over the individual needles. He followed suit, inhaling deeply as he inched his face closer to the tree, his mind going back to the prior holidays that he’d shared with his mother - specifically the ones between losing his father and his mother meeting Thomas, which were some of his earliest memories. The tree was in the corner, right by the stairs. “Do you like this one, Ryan?” 

 “Yeah.” Ryan licked his lips, rubbing at his eyebrows for long moments. “I think it’s a good one.” He looked down at you, dropping his hand to his side and cocking his head to the left. “You?” Your eyes went back to the tree, shoulders rising as you took a deep breath. 

 “Yes.” You looked up at him, smiling. “This is it.” Telling you to wait while he went to get an employee, Ryan stepped away from you, still thinking about his mom, about his childhood, about the fact that ever since he’d met you, he’d started remembering random things - memories that he didn’t even know he still had, and that it felt natural. As he waited for the young man to cut a length of twine from a large spindle, Ryan glanced back at you, watching as you took a picture of the tree with your phone, quickly typing something out. This is where I’m supposed to be. 

 Fifteen minutes later, the two of you were back in the car, Ryan behind the wheel. “Let me try that?” He glanced over at you, watching as you paused with your straw only an inch or so from your mouth. “I got -”

 “If you wanted strawberry, Ryan, you should have gotten it.” You glanced at him without turning your head, and Ryan felt himself grinning. “Here.” He pulled out from the parking lot, turning back toward your house as you held the straw up to his lips. He closed them around it, sucking gently and taking a large mouthful of the milkshake. “Good, right?” 

 “Sure is.” Ryan swallowed, pointing at his own cup, which was settled between the two of you and you handed it to him. “But it’s almost Christmas, I had to get the cookie one.” The two of you laughed before settling into a comfortable silence as he drove through the traffic, finally pulling into your driveway a little before 8:30. 

 “Ryan?” He turned to look at you as he put the car in park, noticing that your eyes were focused on his face. “Thank you. I needed tonight.” I know. Ryan moved without thinking, leaning over the console to pull you into a kiss that lasted for a long time, neither of you wanting to pull away. “Love you, Brenner.” 

 “I know.” He winked at you, settling back into his seat before turning his head to look at you. “Not as much as I love you, though.” Even in the low light, Ryan could tell that your face was reddening, warmth spreading upward from your chest to your cheeks. Good. 

 --- 

 You decorated the tree together over the course of the next few days, setting it up in the stand the first night, allowing the branches to settle, adding in lights the following day and ornaments - a small box that you’d brought with you from Pennsylvania, others that you’d purchased from Target and Walmart after that. It wasn’t uncommon for one or both of you to come into the house and add something personal to the tree’s branches - You hung a small framed image of the two of you one afternoon, and Ryan, getting into the spirit of the holiday surreptitiously looped a broken guitar string around one of the branches after twisting it into a circle. You laughed when you saw it - but not unkindly, your eyes shining. “I should have thought of that, Ryan.”  But it was the final ornament that he hung on the tree that truly caught your attention, you calling Ryan into the living room after you’d made it home from photographing the lights and trees at a local display one night. “Ryan, what’s…”

 “Oh.” He stepped up behind you, winding his arms around your shoulders and pulling you close. “That?” He shrugged, feeling you lean backwards into his body. “That’s just something that I’ve been carryin’ around in my wallet for a year and a half.” You stepped away from him and Ryan let you go, watching as you pulled the ornament from the tree, turning it over in your fingers. “It’s -”

 “My room key.” You brought your gaze back up to his face, and Ryan saw that there were tears in your eyes. “The one I gave you the day that you went to do laundry and tried to leave.” Yeah, that’s the one. He nodded once. “You kept it? All this time?”

 “I did.”He swallowed, reaching up to run his hand through his hair. “Even when I couldn’t keep anythin’ big, I always took small stuff - a guitar pick from someone I played with, a matchbook, a receipt. Always lost ‘em though, after a while.” Ryan felt his tongue poking through his teeth and between his lips as he thought, mind far away. “That’s been behind my license since the mornin’ you - we - checked out of that hotel, and I thought it’d be perfect on our first Christmas tr-” You cut him off as you launched yourself at him, the fingers of one hand curled around the thin piece of plastic as your arm wrapped around his neck. “I love you, Ryan.” You spoke even as you kissed him, lips hungrily pressed against his. “I don’t know how I -” I don’t either.

 “Yeah.” He kissed you back, the fingers of both hands digging into your lower back. “We’re both lucky.” Real lucky. He moved his lips from your mouth to your neck, sucking gently on the skin as he kissed it. “Put that back on the tree and lets go to bed, alright?” Once you’d replaced the key on the branch, you turned back to Ryan, holding your hand out and waiting as he grasped it tightly, pulling you close to his chest again. “I don’t need to carry it with me anymore.” 

 “Oh yeah?” You smiled up at him, Ryan using his other hand to tuck hair behind your ear. “Why’s that?”

 “I’ve got the real thing right in front of me.” He watched the expression on your face change, a slew of emotions passing through your eyes before surprise won out. “Real’s so much better.” You nodded, eyes closing as you turned your cheek toward his chest, leaning in. So much better. 

  Five days later, on Christmas morning, you and Ryan woke up late, walking into the living room hand in hand. The tree was lit, and though there was no snow on the ground, it felt like Christmas to him, Ryan reclining on the couch while you cooked breakfast for the two of you. His eyes moved over the room - comfortable, cozy, filled with a collection of things that belonged to the two of you - before landing on the tree. There were only two presents beneath it; he’d opened the microphones almost as soon as you’d purchased them for him, and so the wrapped gifts were both for you - from Ryan. Hope she likes ‘em. He pulled his phone out, opening Instagram and scrolling through it idly as the smell of bacon wafted to his nose, you moving easily through the kitchen and humming to yourself quietly. Checking his messages out of habit, his finger froze over the screen as he saw one that he’d missed from over a week ago. Not today. Close the app. “Ry?” 

 He heard your voice and tore his eyes away from the screen, looking up at you. “Breakfast ready?” Swallowing, Ryan sat up and swung his feet to the floor, standing up. “I’m starvin’. And then you can open your -”

 “What’s wrong, Ryan?” You shook your head, stopping him from getting to the table. “I know that look.” I have to tell her. 

 “I…” He paused, deciding that he needed to get it over with. “I missed a message from last week on Instagram, and I just saw it now, and…” He stepped closer to you, unlocking the phone and opening the app again, holding it out to you. “It’s from Lia.” You took a deep breath, nodding once. “I can delete it, I -”

 “No.” You shook your head. “Read it, Ryan. It can’t be…” You rose onto your toes, kissing his cheek and Ryan felt lighter immediately. She’s not upset. “She must have something important to tell ya.” Ryan walked into the kitchen, sitting down in front of his plate, eyes still on his phone. Alright, here we go. Clicking on the message, Ryan’s eyes scanned it quickly, breath catching. Hey, Ryan. Just wanted to let you know that I’m still taking real good care of your guitar. Played it at Mom’s wedding, and I thought you’d wanna see how much better I got. I don’t know if you’ll watch this, but if you do, you don’t have to say anything back. You look happy in your videos, and I hope you are. You deserve it, Ryan. 

 There was a video attached, and Ryan waited to open it, thinking. It sounded like Lia - or at least like he imagined she’d sound nearly two and a half years after the last time he’d seen her. She wasn’t asking for information about him, and it didn’t seem like she’d been told to send the message, but…She’s a kid, just watch it. “She sent me a video.” Ryan looked up, seeing that you were sitting in your own chair, watching him. “Of her playin’ my guitar… well, her guitar now, but…” He sighed. “At Jackie’s weddin’.” You didn’t look surprised at the news that the woman had gotten married after all, and Ryan realized that you already knew - that you’d likely looked it up to see for yourself whether or not it had happened, or you’d need to expect the woman showing up in Charleston to see him. And she didn’t say anything. “I’m… gonna watch it, if you want to come over here an’ watch it with me.” 

 You were up and out of your seat before he’d stopped speaking, and Ryan pushed back from the table, gesturing to his lap. You settled in, Ryan’s arms going around you as he raised his phone before pressing play on the video. It was a short one - less than a minute long, but he was pleased - and proud - to see that Lia had improved. Her playing wasn’t perfect, but she was into it, focused on the strings and the words she was singing. He felt himself smile as he watched the clip, eyes locked on the blonde girl on his screen. Though he’d expected the video to cut to Jackie and her new husband before it ended, it didn’t, instead cutting out just as the final notes died away, Lia’s face breaking into a grin. Good for her. “She’s good, Ryan. Looks like she’s taking good care of your guitar.” 

 “Yeah, she was a good kid. I’m proud of-” He stopped, still looking down at his phone. “I’m proud of her.” And he was, he realized, proud of the way that Lia had stuck with playing and singing, had stuck with caring for the instrument that had gotten him through many years of busking. “I’ll respond, but not today.” He darkened his screen, setting the phone down and kissing you on the shoulder, feeling a few strands of your hair beneath his lips. “Today’s about us, not…” 

 “That’s fine.” You stood, turning to face him, and Ryan looked up at you. “You and me and a tree, right?” He nodded, feeling himself smile. “Merry Christmas, Ryan.” Breakfast untouched, Ryan stood, hands moving to either side of your face as he cupped your jaw, overwhelmed with emotion. I said it before but I meant it - she’s everything.  “What are you doing, Brenner?” Ryan leaned in, rubbing his nose against yours before pressing his lips to the corner of your mouth. “Ry -”

 “Merry Christmas.” He swallowed, lips moving over the skin of your face, trying to be mindful of his beard against all of the sensitive places. “This year… this year I don’t have to sing for you over the phone.” He closed his eyes, thinking about the prior Christmas, the way you’d both been too afraid to say anything except “I miss you” -nearly 900 miles apart. “I should have told you that I loved you last Christmas when I called you.” Ryan spoke quietly, rocking back and forth, feeling your hands on his waist. “I should have -”

 ‘No.” You moved your head from side to side, breath hitting his face as you spoke. “No, we weren’t… if you would have said it then, and then disappeared for five months…” You let out a breath with a shudder. “It would have killed me, Ryan.” He wasted no more time, turning his head slightly and using his hands to tilt your face upward. As you kissed, he dropped his hands, fingertips skimming down the front of you as you curved your body toward his. I should have. I should have done a lot differently. I - His thoughts were interrupted as he felt your hand slide beneath his shirt, nails raking across the skin of his back. 

 When you broke apart, both of you were breathless. “Let’s eat, Ryan. Food’s getting cold.” You swallowed and Ryan did too, trying to calm his heartbeat. “Then I can open my presents.” He laughed, his hands falling from your body as you stepped away from him and back to your chair, sitting and picking up your fork. Yeah, you can. Ryan sat too, watching as you ate, unable to keep the smile off of his face. You made small talk as you finished your breakfast, deciding that you’d go and see a movie in the afternoon and then get Chinese food for dinner, keeping things low-key on the holiday - your first Christmas together. Perfect. 

 The dishes cleared, you and Ryan made your way into the living room, where he paused to scoop up both gifts before he handed them to you. You opened them slowly, biting your lower lip as you ripped through the paper to expose the entirety of the first gift - a new bag for your camera, made from a waterproof material. “You just got that new lens and were compainin’ that you couldn’t fit everything in your old bag.” The grin on your face was as bright as he’d ever seen it before, and Ryan wanted to keep staring at it, but instead he reached over, tapping a long finger against the paper of the second, smaller package. “This one’s... “ He shook his head, hair falling over his eyes. “I -”

 “Shh.” You wrinkled your nose at him. “Lemme open my present.” With a laugh, he raised his hand in a placating gesture, watching as you tore the paper away. “Ryan, what’s this?” You looked back up at him, widening your eyes. “Your… passport?” He nodded as you changed positions on the couch, drawing your knees up beneath you when you turned to face him, grip tight on the blue object. “This is… what…”

 “So.” He licked his lips, reaching out to take the small booklet from your hands, opening it to look at the page with his picture on it. “I got this a few weeks ago, and I… I thought that maybe we could…” He took a deep breath, steadying himself. You live with her, Brenner. Why is this so hard? “Maybe we could plan a trip sometime next year, I’ve been savin’.” You gasped, his name falling from your lips in a whisper. “I thought that my first time out of the country should be somewhere -”

 “Yes.” You nodded enthusiastically, leaning in to throw your arms around his shoulders, pushing him backwards onto the couch so that you were laying on top of him. Ryan was immediately comforted by your weight, the booklet falling from his hand and onto the floor as he held you close. “Oh, Ryan. There are so many places that I’d love to show you, so much for you to see.” You tucked your forehead in against his neck, removing your right arm from around his neck and stroking his hair. He pushed the material of your shirt up, running his hands up and down your spine as the two of you talked quietly, discussing possible places to go and things to see. I don’t care where we go, as long as she’s... “Thank you, Ryan.” Your voice was quiet, and though you’d stretched out so that you were laying between Ryan and the back of the couch, he was unwilling to let you go. “This is the best Christmas I’ve had since I was a kid.”

 “Me too.” Ryan sniffed, feeling his eyelids getting heavy, the warmth of your skin against his and the familiar rise and fall of your chest lulling him back to sleep. “An’ it’s because we’re…” He trailed off, hearing your quiet agreement, and the last thought he had before drifting off was one that he’d never had before.

 I wanna spend the rest of my life with her. 

---

[let-it-raines]

Betting on the Bullseye (Ch. 17)

Summary: Emma Swan loses a bet that means she has to ask her celebrity crush to be her date to her office's annual fundraising gala. Killian Jones is that celebrity crush. She expects all kinds of humiliation and for her dignity to be completely lost. What she doesn't expect is for him to say yes.

Rating: Mature 

A/N: Happy Saturday! I hope you’re all having a great weekend! Maybe make someone’s day and do a kind gesture, whether that’s sending a kind messages or cleaning up the dishes after dinner :D

AO3: Beginning | Current

Tumblr: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 

Tag List: @nikkiemms @resident-of-storybrooke @wellhellotragic​ @bmbbcs4evr @onceuponaprincessworld @jennjenn615 @mayquita @captainsjedi @teamhook @skyewardolicitycloisdelena91 @artistic-writer @branlovesouat @dreadpirateemma @kmomof4 @ekr032-blog-blog @galaxyzxstark @lifeinahole27 @andiirivera @ultimiflos @hollyethecurious @thejollyroger-writer @superchocovian @cs-forlife @qualitycoffeethings @jonirobinson64

“Oh my God,” she giggles, absolutely despising the sound that’s coming out of her mouth with every harsh rub of her calf and massage of her foot. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. It’s just…I have weirdly sensitive feet.” “And this is exactly why I never take you out to do this,” Ruby sighs in the chair next to her while they get their feet massaged and their toes painted.

“Hey, at least I’m not making sex noises like Marg over there.”

“I am nearly eight months pregnant,” Mary Margaret protests, cradling her stomach with her hands while letting out the slightest moan as her foot is massaged. “I have swollen feet that hurt. This is like bliss.” “That’s what a lot of people say about sex.”

“Damn right,” Ruby agrees, making all of their technicians laugh. When she thinks about it too much, having people work on her feet while she has weird conversations with her friends is, well, weird, but it does feel so good after she gets used to her entire body tingling with the touches.

But one of Mary Margaret’s students gave her a gift card before they let out for summer break at the end of May, and she insisted on taking Emma and Ruby out after they finished with work since she still hadn’t used the card. Ruby hasn’t wanted to go a lot of places since she and Victor broke up, usually liking going to work and then simply going home, but she and Mary Margaret have made a conscious effort to make sure that Ruby gets out. Ruby has absolutely known what they’re doing, and while at first she would get kind of pissed at them, as the weeks have passed, she’s gotten back to being herself.

It probably helps that they let her have an entire night to bash Victor and the fact that he had stopped making time for Ruby, picking up extra unnecessary shifts just so that he didn’t have to come home, and spending more time with his coworkers than Ruby to the point where they basically weren’t seeing each other at all. It was an asshole move, and while she’s never been Vic’s greatest fan, she was such a big fan of how good they were for each other.

Until they weren’t.

If he’s going to be an asshole and not put an effort into the relationship then Ruby deserves so much better. She just does.

Emma hates that she hasn’t been around to help as much as she should have. She really does. Ruby didn’t tell her that they were having issues, didn’t talk about it at lunch, didn’t call and ask to hang out on the weekends when Emma was in town, and the guilt nags at her for not being the best friend for Ruby. She doesn’t abandon people, not when they’ve been so good to her for all of these years, and even though she knows Ruby would tell her that it’s not necessary, she kind of feels like she’s trying to make up for lost time.

Ruby and Mary Margaret have been there for her for the past decade, and she will always be there for them. No question.

Even if that means dying a little inside while getting her toes painted.

“So does our new little friend have a name yet?” she asks to change the subject while pulling her hair up into a messy bun on the top of her head, sure that there’s some weird loops in there since she didn’t use a mirror. “Or are you guys keeping that a secret again?”

“I’m kind of leaning toward Brody,” Mary Margaret tells her, which is not what she was expecting. She was fully expecting to have to wait until the kid was born to know his name. “David likes George, but I don’t know…that just seems – ”

“Like it’s only cute for babies or old men?”

“Exactly. It’s like you have to think of names that work for when they’re babies, when they’re old, and when they’re middle aged. Like, no one wants to walk around talking to a fifty-year-old woman named Bunny.”

“Okay, but Bunny doesn’t work. Ever.”

“It does if you’re a stripper. You could wear a little cotton ball on your – ”

“Rubes,” she laughs, sticking her hand over to Ruby’s seat and squeezing around her palm, “there are some things that should just never be said out loud.”

She shrugs, the brightest smile on her face that makes Emma’s lips tug up in the corners until she’s smiling as well. She’s happy. That’s all Emma wants for Ruby. “I’m just saying. It’d be a great little get up. I bet you could do, like, specials for the spring time and make a lot of extra money.”

“Anyways,” Mary Margaret says as the blush rises on her cheeks, “so I’m thinking Brody William Nolan. It’s solid, not too weird, and I don’t think it’ll make anybody make fun of him when he gets older.”

“That’s the most important thing. Kids are cruel.”

“They make fun of you but in an accurate away.”

“Amen.”

Walking out of the nail salon in those awful flip flips, the three of them make their way down the sidewalk of the shopping center, real shoes in their hands, and let the warm mid-July sun beat down on them as they make their way to the café that’s down the street. It’s already pretty crowded, the dinner rush filling the tables, and she lets Mary Margaret and Ruby settle down at a table outside while she goes in and get their orders, grabbing the buzzer that always scares the crap out of her when it loudly goes off on the table.

Every. Damn. Time.

If their paninis weren’t so good, she’d really question her choices of coming here so often. They all practically inhale their food, even going back inside to get dessert for Mary Margaret, and with the sun setting over all of the surrounding buildings, the sky a blurred swirl of deep orange and light blue, she revels in how good of a time that this has been. If it wasn’t so damn expensive to eat out all of the time, they’d definitely do this more often instead of sitting at one of their apartments or at the Nolans’ house.

Or sadly eating cereal alone in her apartment.

And she is getting better at cooking, she swears. She’s been making the effort to eat out less and cook more. She bought a cook book and everything once she finished learning to make all of the recipes Killian left for her.

Her life is going in directions she never thought it would, and her buying cook books is definitely just one of those things even if it’s normal to literally everyone else.

Her grilled cheese recipe has really improved.

It’s a nice summer evening though, one of those where you really just want to be at a baseball game eating junk food with your feet propped up on the seat in front of you while you get horrible tan lines from your shoes and your shorts. She thinks she’s gone to more games in the past few months than she has in her entire life, but then again, so has all of Boston because they just won the World Series last year.

That had been a good time.

This is nice even if it’s not a game, maybe even better than the game, and by the time she loads up in her car to go home, she can feel a slight heat on her cheeks despite the sunscreen that’s built into her foundation.

After she’s showered, washing off the sweat and the day, she changes into her pajamas and settles down onto her couch with her laptop ready to spend the next few hours mindlessly scrolling through Twitter and Pinterest, doing anything to just not have to think for the rest of the evening. Sometimes she just needs to be able to decompress, to let herself relax and rest so she can finish out the last two days of the week.

The air conditioner had broken in her office today, and she thought she was absolutely going to die from sweat. It was awful. Absolutely awful.

She never would have made it before air conditioning.

A message pops up on her computer screen, Killian’s name scrolling across the top, and she clicks on it. It’s a picture of him staring intently into the screen followed by one of him with a goofy grin on his face next to his name on a door. He’s doing the press junket for Highland Waters right now. He’d spent last week in LA doing all of the talk shows that are based out there, and he’s just flown to New York to do more press on this coast. Yesterday there’d been a question asked about her on James Cordon (the late late late show, maybe? How many lates are in the name? All she can think of right now is Carpool Karaoke and how she would never be able to focus with Paul McCartney in the passenger seat), which was weird enough as it is, but it was weirder that Killian was almost communicating with her through the television screen since they hadn’t had much time to talk. “So how does your girlfriend feel about the love scenes you have in this show?” “Who says that one,” Killian begins, his jaw ticking in the way that she knows that it does when he’s trying to keep a straight face when irritated, “I have a girlfriend, and two, that I have love scenes in the show? This is all classified information.” “Oh come on, mate. As one handsome British man to another, we both know that the ladies love us.” “I believe it’s the accent.” “I believe it’s our smoking bodies.” Killian chuckles at the bad joke, and she can tell it’s genuine even if it’s a bit awkward. The joke was a bit awkward. “But seriously. I’ve been told I can’t let you off this stage unless you talk about your girlfriend, these sex scenes, or if you sing acapella while hopping on one foot.” “Well okay then,” Killian begins, standing up and jumping on one foot while the audience cheers and she laughs until he sits back down on the couch with a smile on his face. “Yes, there are some intimate scenes in the show.” The crowd wolf whistles, and she can practically feel how hot Killian’s face is through the screen. She can definitely see how red the tips of his ears are, especially since he just got his hair trimmed again. “And while I’m sure my girlfriend doesn’t love them, she understands that this is simply my job. She’s my real life.”

She shakes her head back and forth, wishing that she could talk to him through the screen even though she knows that this was filmed hours ago. God, he’s ridiculous, but he makes a good point. She’s not exactly thrilled about some of the scenes she’s seen previews to, but he’s acting. That’s all. It’s not real. “Aww, look at that, he’s a romantic in real life too.” The crowd really does “aw” and she wonders how the hell Killian does this without melting into the couch out of embarrassment. She hasn’t seen him in nearly two weeks, and while she absolutely misses him like something mad, this is weirdly helping. “So if I can prod you a little more about your life…I know you’re pretty private, but we asked Twitter to send us some questions for you and we picked out our favorites.” “Oh boy,” Killian laughs, bouncing on the couch and scratching behind his ear. “Hit me with your best shot, James.” “@Solangeisanorange wants to know if the hair on your face is incapable of being shaved off or if you have it insured for millions of dollars?” “Is that even possible? Can I do that? Because I will. It seems like an easy way to make some money, and then I’d never have to work again. But no, the hair on my face can be shaved off. I clean it up every few days, but I won’t shave it off. I like it this way.” “What about one of those long beards? Ever thought about one of those?” “God, no. Can you imagine the maintenance?” Killian laughs, reaching down and taking a sip of the water in his mug. “And I’m far too much of a neat freak for that.” “Hear that, ladies,” James begins, “he’s a freak.” Killian waggles his eyebrows before James speaks again. “Okay, so @Superior_woman has a question that says: Will you marry me?” “Only if you buy me a bloody fantastic engagement ring.”

“So it’s all about the jewels?”

“Family and otherwise, aye.”

“Oh my God,” she groans to herself, covering her face with her hands and peeking through her fingers. “That was so bad.”

“Alright, alright, alright then. Well, we’ll do two more. Honestly, Twitter, I know it was short notice, but you’ve really got to get more creative in your questions. You can ask Killian Jones anything you want, and you’re asking him if he has any nicknames. Come on, @HannahBG. You should know better.”

“It’s a valid question,” Killian answers, most likely relieved that he can answer something normal. “Um, well, I don’t really think so. My girlfriend calls me KJ and arsehole a lot. Those two are pretty interchangeable in her eyes.” The entire room laughs while she mutters “asshole” under her breath. Oh shit. She really does do that. “But I think KJ is probably about it. My nephew does call me something that resembles Killy, though, but I think that’s simply because he can’t say my name. He’s only got a few words down.”

“So I have to ask, and this isn’t for myself, I promise. It really is for the audience. How did you meet this girlfriend of yours? Because lack of creativity in nicknames aside, she sounds great. And I’ve heard it’s quite an interesting story.”

“Ahh,” Killian sighs, clicking his tongue, “so I think it’s pretty public how we met. She actually…she lost a bet with her best friend who really likes to mess with her. So the friend made Emma record a video asking me on a date to a charity gala for her work with The Children’s Shelter, which is a really great organization that I love to support. But we hit it off, I guess, on the first night, and while we didn’t immediately get together, she doesn’t have to ask me out through Youtube anymore.”

“So you’re saying that all anyone has to do to go on a date with you is ask you out on Youtube?”

“No. That’s all she had to do. No one else gets to ask me out on dates through the internet. I’m not doing that anymore.”

She scrolls back up to look at the pictures he just sent, noticing the way he needs to button down his collar but figuring he undid that after he filmed Fallon this afternoon.

Emma: Hot stuff right there. Hope you’re having fun!

She goes back to scrolling through Pinterest, getting into a deep rabbit hole of how to do a double dutch braid and absolutely failing time and time again until she gives up and twists her hair into a regular braid that falls over her shoulders.

Damn, her arms hurt after having them lifted in the air for that long. Is that pathetic?

Killian: I am, love. Exhausted. Isabelle and I are going to be on GMA tomorrow and then do a few others together. Then Friday I’m back to doing solo interviews.

Killian: There’s a lot of fake smiling.

Killian: I think my mouth may be stuck this way.

Emma: Well, I have absolutely no use for you if you can’t use your mouth.

Killian: Rude and totally untrue.

Killian: I’m about to go to bed. Can I call you during your lunch break tomorrow?

Emma: Sure. No guarantees that I’ll answer, though.

Killian: Love you, Swan. xx

Emma: Love you too. xx

She was completely joking when she said there were no guarantees she would answer. She fully intended to answer, to talk to him, but she missed his call. And then he missed hers. And it was like a revolving door of calls.

Phone tag. That’s the name for it. It’s phone tag. They’re playing phone tag.

And it’s definitely not the first time they’ve done it. It happens a lot. He calls, and she doesn’t answer. She calls, and he doesn’t answer. Her voicemail gets filled with messages full of the same kind of “I’m sorry I missed you. Call me when you can, love” messages nearly every time. She’s never been in a long-distance relationship, never been in a relationship this committed on both sides, and she doesn’t know what she was expecting, but she doesn’t think it was this.

Mostly, she thinks that they do a good job, that they do make time for each other. She knows that she gets to see Killian a lot more often most people in her situation do simply because he doesn’t work a normal job and has the means to fly to her pretty often. The tickets aren’t exactly cheap, at least for her, and despite her not really wanting to, she has let him pay for her last few simply so that he’s not spending all of his time in Boston.

They miss so much of each other’s lives, of their families’ lives, and it’s so damn hard that she just wants to cry sometimes.

She does cry. A lot. Like, probably more than she ever has before. And while she still sometimes struggles with showing emotions, with having emotions, she knows that crying doesn’t make her weak, that being vulnerable isn’t a bad thing. It’s actually a really good thing, and she cries because she’s allowed herself to be vulnerable to someone else, allowed herself to want to be vulnerable to someone else, and sometimes she just fucking misses him.

Like right now.

She misses him a lot right now and wishes that he could be finished in New York and be on his way here today instead of on Saturday.

But he can’t. He has to work, she has to work, and after not seeing each other for several weeks, she’s honestly just glad that he’s going to be here at all.

It’s a vicious cycle, but they’re handling it. They’re handling it because they have to. They’re handling it because they want to.

She just wishes she didn’t have to miss so many things.

The rest of her day inches by slowly despite how busy it is, another quarter ending next week meaning that she’s got to start prepping the financials for the donations so they can be renewed. It’s always hell, and someone from accounting should really do it, but she’s always the one who does it for some reason. It’s honestly a miracle they haven’t been audited simply because she knows that she screws up a lot.

Hopefully accounting does review her documents after she turns them in.

She skips the gym, calling Killian instead, and by some miracle, he actually answers, even if it’s only for a few minutes before he has to run off to dinner with Isabelle and Robin. It’s nice, though, just to get to talk to him for a little while, and she’s not going to complain when she’ll see him in just over a day.

Just one more day.

-/-

“Bloody fuck,” Killian mutters as her front door opens and he stumbles inside, shaking out his foot and rolling his suitcase behind him. He looks up at her and grimaces, though she thinks it might honestly be an attempt at a smile. “Hello, darling. I promise I’m excited to see you, but I’ve stubbed my toe and it hurts like hell.”

“The great Killian Jones,” she monotones, rolling her eyes and getting up from the couch to close the door behind him, her heart beating wildly in her chest simply because he’s here, “is brought down by what I assume were the front steps outside.”

“You assume right,” he grits, reaching down and pulling off his sneaker before massaging his toe.

“I’m sorry, babe,” she sighs, standing in front of him and pushing his hat off of his head so that she can glide her lips over his and feel the soft warmth that she’s been craving for so long. “That happens every now and then, and it hurts every time. I don’t know why, but it does.”

“Believe it or not, but I think I’ll survive.” He places his hands on her hips and tugs her closer so that she has to tighten her arms around his neck. “Hi, Swan. I am so glad to be back here.”

Her breath hitches, the intensity of his gaze taking her back a bit, but she adjusts, letting her lips form a smile. Why wouldn’t she? She’s so damn happy that he’s here. “I’m glad you’re here too. It’s not quite the same watching you fumble in interviews.” She can feel the gentle slap on her hip, and it makes her chuckle under her breath almost as much as the way Killian’s staring at her with his lips parted, offense clear in his features. “I absolutely aced those interviews. Probably my best set of promotions yet.”

“You had a pie thrown in your face on Thursday because Isabelle knew more about your character than you did.”

“I didn’t remember his father’s name, which isn’t my fault because that’s honestly more in Isabelle’s script than mine, and it’s been a long time since I even filmed the brief scene where he was mentioned.”

“Mhm, sure. But you did do a great job describing Ezra’s journey without giving too much away. I was impressed by that.”

He dips his head and quickly captures her lips again, and she loses all of the breath in her lungs from the way it surprises her. She should have been expecting that, but she wasn’t. He’s got to stop literally taking her breath away because she’ll suffocate. And that won’t be romantic.

“I’ve gotten very good at not telling the truth without actually lying.”

“I feel like that is the absolute last thing that you want to be saying to your girlfriend.”

“Probably, but according to the last two weeks of my life, I’m very swoon-worthy. I can get away with things like that.

“Yeah, that’s definitely not how that works.”

She presses up on her toes again, capturing his lips with hers and tilting her head to deepen the kiss. He tastes like that mint tea that he likes and she hates because of the weird smell, but she can’t say that she minds the taste right now, especially with the way his tongue moves over hers in a warm slide that makes her spine tingle more than the pedicure did the other day.

Making out with her boyfriend is obviously much better than getting a pedicure.

“So, like,” she giggles, a smile breaking out across her face while Killian continues to chase her lips, “you know, I just did laundry this morning. I washed my sheets and everything, so they’re really soft. I even bought some new pillow covers the other day.”

“This is quite the roundabout way to ask me to fuck you.”

“Who said anything about that? I just want you to see my new pillow covers.”

-/-

The world hazily comes back to her as she wakes up, the only light stemming from the brightness of Killian’s laptop as his fingers tap away, the keys clicking with each movement.

“What are you doing?” she mumbles, rubbing her fists into her eyes and flopping over onto her stomach so she can wrap her arms around her pillow and nuzzle into it more. “More importantly, why the hell are you awake this early?”

“Woke up to use the restroom and couldn’t go back to sleep. I figured I’d pay some bills and answer some emails. I’m reading through a few scripts.”

She props herself up on her elbows and reaches over to grab Killian’s wrist, looking at his watch that he didn’t take off last night and being shocked that it’s not even two in the morning until she remembers that Killian is three hours behind. Still, waking up before five on a Monday morning is not exactly what she would call pleasant.

“Babe, go back to sleep.”

“Not tired,” he mutters, still typing away. “But you should go back to sleep, love. You have work in a few hours.”

“Turn off the laptop, and I will.”

“Just a few more minutes.”

It’s not a few more minutes. It’s for the next hour, and she eventually gets up and goes into her bathroom, taking a cold shower even though she absolutely hates the way the water feels on her skin. She’s tired, though, wishes that she could have gone back to sleep, but she couldn’t. And she can’t get any of that time back no matter how much she wants to.

Work today is going to be a hell.

By the time she leaves the bathroom, her makeup applied and hair dried, the sun is peeking through her windows and Killian is nowhere to be seen, his laptop closed and resting in the middle of the mattress. She can’t help but shake her head. She’s honestly a little pissed at him, even if she has no real reason to be, but she’s tired and irritated and Killian may get some of the blame for that for the way his typing made enough noise to wake her up and keep her up.

She needs coffee. She just needs some kind of caffeine and maybe to take a nap on the couch in Ruby’s office. That sounds like the dream.

She quickly grabs a dress out of her closet, throwing it on and letting the skirt hit just above her knees before she finds the sandals that match. They’re practically falling apart, the straps buckling, and she really needs to get some new shoes.

These were good shoes.

She buckles them and walks out of her bedroom only to immediately smell coffee. God bless Killian Jones because he may have pissed her off this morning by inadvertently waking her up, but at least he’s smart enough to make her coffee.

“Figured you might need this,” he tells her as he hands her swan mug. “What do you want for breakfast?”

“I was just going to eat cereal.” She shrugs, taking a long sip of her coffee and sighing a bit even though she knows the caffeine will take awhile to kick in. “And you’re probably so tired that you are a liability when it comes to the stove anyways.” “I can make you an omelet, Swan. I’m not going to burn your apartment down.” “I don’t care. Just make what you want.” She waves her hand at him goes back to drinking her coffee and opening up her phone to check any of the messages she missed throughout the night. There’s not really anything, but she’s honestly just trying to wake up.

Killian slides her a plate with an omelet on it, nudging it in front of her phone, and she puts it down before looking up at him. How much time passed without her even realizing it?

“Thank you. It smells good.”

“No problem.” He takes a bite of his own, wiggling his fork around before popping it in his mouth. “I’m sorry that I woke you up. I should have gone in the living room, but you’re such a deep sleeper…I didn’t even think about it.”

“Killian,” she sighs, sitting up in her stool as she cuts up some of her food, “it’s fine. Yeah, I’m tired, and yeah, I wish I hadn’t woken up when I did. But honestly, it’s not a big deal. I sleep through the cars blaring their horns outside, so it’s weird that your typing woke me up. Why do you have so much stuff to do anyways?”

“I’ve basically worked for two weeks and spent the past two days with you. I haven’t had the time. Figured I’d get it all out of the way. I was reading this bloody brilliant script, though. It’s, well, it’s about this man who’s lost his wife and is going through the grieving process while also raising his young son. I don’t know, love. It’s just…I know it’s been done before, but this one is different.” “Yeah?”

“Absolutely. Brilliant, I tell you. They’re filming next spring if they get all of the contracts and such down. I obviously don’t have the role, but I need to set up a meeting with the producers.” “That’s fantastic,” she promises him, taking another bite of her food. “I bet you’ll get it, especially if they’re already interested in you.” “I mean,” he starts, reaching up and scratching behind his ear while his tongue clicks, “maybe. I hope so.”

She doesn’t want to ask, but she has to. “Do you know where they’re filming?”

“Canada, I believe. Rob didn’t have the city or anything, but I think that’s where it’s projected.”

She lets out a little sigh of relief, holding her mug up above her lips so that she doesn’t look too relieved. She feels selfish wanting to keep him here when she could never ask him to give up his job for her. He’s already done it once, and as much as that made her heart swell, made something inside of her twist at realizing just how much he loves her, she can’t let him do it again. She just can’t. He’s already so excited for this role, and all she wants is for him to get it.

They can figure out them when the time comes.

Maybe she can go to Canada. She’s always wanted to go.

“Let me know when your audition meeting thing is. I can run lines with you.” “Love, you were absolutely horrendous the one time we tried that.” “Hey,” she protests, sticking her fork up at him as she chews on her eggs, “I was okay. Obviously acting is not my calling.”

He winks. “Maybe with a bit of practice, my love. Are we still on for lunch at your office?”

“Yep. But you’ve got to bring something since I probably have to work and talk. It’s like a mad dash for the next week.” “I believe I can do that.” “Bring coffee too.” “Obviously.”

Her head is heavy throughout the rest of her morning, the caffeine only helping to keep her functioning. She didn’t even lose that much sleep, but two hours can make such a difference when she didn’t get a lot of rest this weekend. Plus, it’s Monday, and sometimes they just suck, especially if you have a really good weekend.

She had a good weekend. She and Killian literally just stayed in her apartment and did nothing. Usually they like to go out and do something, but hoarding themselves away just…it’s what worked for them this time. Besides, he’s going to be here for a few more days. They have time to do whatever they want. It’s a nice luxury that they don’t always get, the weekend trips still continuing to be nothing but a tease, so it’s a nice thing to have a little more time than a jet lagged Saturday.

“What’s up, little bird?” Ruby asks as she steps into Emma’s office, sitting down in one of her chairs before kicking her heels off.

“Little bird? That’s a new one.”

“I was just texting Marg and called her little mama. Figured you needed to be called something different than little mama unless there’s something going on over there that you haven’t told me about. And if there is, I’m going to take away the coffee you were chugging away on this morning.”

She’s glad she just saved her file because she definitely just slammed down on her keyboard. “God no,” she sputters, heat rising in her cheeks that she just can’t stop, “that is not happening right now.” “What’s not happening, Swan?”

She looks up to see Killian standing in her doorway, takeout bags in hand, and a part of her really does wonder if sometimes she’s living in a movie or something with the timing that sometimes happens. Looking down at her computer, though, she does see that it’s exactly one, and she shouldn’t be surprised that Killian is on time.

Exactly on time.

“You haven’t knocked her up.”

“Rubes,” she groans, rolling her head back so that all of her hair falls off of her shoulders and down her back, “sometimes a filter is a good thing.” “I am simply commenting on the fact that you guys use safe sex practices, and I applaud you for them.”

“Ah, I feel like I’ve walked in on a rather odd conversation here.”

“It’s nothing, KJ.” She tries to calm the heat that’s still in her cheeks as she rolls her chair over to the other side of her desk. “Ruby is just being Ruby. I think she’s been cooped away in her office for too long. What’d you bring for lunch?”

“Coffee, as you requested, milady, and then I figured I’d indulge you and give you your favorite greasy foods as an extra apology for this morning.”

“Ooooh,” Ruby hums, “what happened this morning?”

“Well, you see,” she begins, trying to figure out the best way to mess with Ruby, “our sex was so rough this morning that it required more than just a condom as protection. There was also a helmet involved, maybe some knee pads, but none of it really helped when the kitchen cabinet opened and all of my pots and pans crashed down around me, banging me far worse than Killian was.”

“You almost had me going until you acted like you have a bunch of pots and pans because you don’t.” “Bloody hell, lass,” Killian sputters, walking into her office and shutting the door behind him before putting the food on her desk, “you believed any of that?”

“Emma’s not the most vocal about her sex life. She could be into some freaky stuff.”

“You’re so weird, Rubes,” She laughs, shaking her head as she rolls her chair back toward the desk. “You can share my – ” She peeks into the bag, pulling out a box of onion rings. “ – onion rings with me.” “I got some for Ruby too, love.” “Bless you,” Ruby groans, getting up from her chair and coming to stand next to them all the while she goes back to working as well as eating. “I knew there was a reason I liked you.”

“Because I bring you food?” “Exactly. You didn’t even know I was going to be here, and you brought me food. That is a good man.”

“You and Emma are kind of a packaged deal at work.” Ruby waves a fry in Killian’s face all the while Emma watches the two of them go back and forth with each other, a bright smile on her face that she can practically feel stretching into her eyes.

“And don’t you forget it, Jones.”

[angsty-violet]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Flash (TV 2014) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Cisco Ramon/Leonard Snart Characters: Cisco Ramon, Leonard Snart Additional Tags: Sickfic, Sick Cisco, Caring Leonard, Fluff Summary:

Cisco gets sick and Leonard takes care of him, much to his surprise.

@christinequizmachine

Cisco was not having a good day. He had woken up with the nastiest cold ever. One that he was valiantly trying to convince himself was actually a cold and not the flu, despite all the warning signs. All he had wanted to do was stay in bed and watch TV.

Make himself some hot cocoa and watch reruns of Diagnosis Murder. All of the standard comfort things for when he felt like not leaving the apartment for one reason or another. Instead of his soft sick day, he had been called in to work Apparently one of the pieces on Barry’s suit had malfunctioned. When he had gotten there he had promised himself that it would only be for however long it took to fix the tech.

It was not for the 2 and a half hours it took to fix the tech.

Every time he had tried to pack up his stuff and leave there had been something else that needed his attention. It had gotten to the point where he was sick of being in Star Labs in general. All he wanted to do was go home. This was further exacerbated by the fact that it wasn’t even a vital piece of tech. Barry could have gone without it. Therefore he was not a happy camper when he was still there at 9 pm and the intruder alarm went off. Cisco went down to the main entrance to see who it was muttering all the while.

“Goddamn super villains won’t take the night off. Won’t give me the night off. Stupid Barry and his stupid broken suit. Not even really all that important. Just want to lay in bed and watch mystery TV.” He was a little surprised but also not at all surprised to see that it was his boyfriend/nemesis. Cisco gave a weary sigh.

“Len, what the hell are you doing? Are you really stealing from us? You know I would build you whatever you want. If you are just here to see me why didn’t you just come up and say hello?” Cisco’s voice was worn out and irritated. Any other time he would have been delighted about a visit from his boyfriend but all he wanted was to go home. Len was about to respond with a pithy comment about how Cisco building it for him just wasn’t the same when he noticed Cisco’s pallor.

“Are you okay? You look kind of pale. Maybe you should go to bed.” Cisco stared at him for a moment and had the sudden urge to giggle out of control. He had been trying to leave and go to bed all day. He had wanted to spend the day in bed in the first place. Len looked thoughtful for a moment and then snagged Cisco by the wrist. He dragged the younger man up to the lab and began putting things away.

It was a testament to the closeness of their relationship that Len knew exactly where everything went.

Once it was all put away the thief snagged Cisco’s jacket and helped him put it on. Cisco had the faint urge to protest all of this. That he was perfectly capable of dressing himself and taking care of himself. However, he had spent the entire day wanting to go home, he was not going to turn down the chance to actually do so. Also, he was having a little bit of a problem with his coordination anyway. He wasn’t entirely sure that he could put on his coat by himself.

Len led his boyfriend out of the lab and down to where he had parked the car. It was stolen as usual but Cisco couldn’t find it in himself to protest it like he normally would. The drive to Cisco’s apartment was quiet with only the barest hint of the classic rock station the radio was set to, to break the silence. After they arrived Len guided his boyfriend up to the apartment.

Once they got home Len pushed Cisco towards the bathroom.

“Shower, that should help clear your sinuses. The warm water will probably also make you feel better. When you come out I will have something for you to eat. Then we can move onto what we will do for the rest of the night.” Once again Cisco thought about protesting.

He was sick though. He had spent all day dealing with little technical problems and whiny people. Beyond that, it was nice to not have to make the decisions. This meant that he could just do as Len said until he felt better. Let the supervillain take care of things for him. Normally he hated the man’s mother henning tendencies but he couldn’t find it in himself to be really concerned about it.

While Cisco was using the warm water to clear his nose, Len set to making dinner. Even a head-cold warranted soup. Homemade soup too. None of that canned stuff. It would be much better if Len could let it simmer for several hours but that wasn’t going to happen.

Homemade tomato soup would just have to do. Once Cisco had exited the shower and dressed in soft, worn pajamas, the two of them sat down to dinner. The water had returned some color to Cisco’s cheeks but Len still didn’t like how pale he was.

“You’re hovering.” Cisco’s words weren’t exactly accusatory, more of a warning. Len had a very definite habit of hovering whenever someone he really cared about was sick. It was one that none of his family or friends had ever been able to break. No matter how it aggravated them.

“Sorry. You shouldn’t have gone into work today if you weren’t feeling well.” Cisco sighed, and there was the mother hen.

“I was planning on staying at home but the Barry had a problem that needed fixed.” Len gave a scowl at the words.

“You should have told him to stick it where the sun don’t shine. He can deal without you for a few days. You deserve to be able to recover in peace. You need to stay home tomorrow.” Cisco hid a smile behind another bite of soup.

As much as he complained about Len’s hovering, he actually enjoyed it. There was something undeniably sweet about a man that fussed when his boyfriend was sick. That might have had something to do with the fact that one of his exes had acted as though getting sick was a personal attack and it was reasonable to avoid him at all cost.

After he had finished his soup Len put the dishes into the sink and started to herd Cisco in the general direction of the bedroom. Cisco hoped desperately that they were going to have hot kinky sex but he knew that was a pipe dream. Len had him get into bed and then tucked the covers around him. He spent a few minutes bringing things back and form and making sure that everything was just right.

“I need to go. I was only supposed to be gone a few hours. You have water, soda, orange juice, crackers, and the remote. If you need anything else give me a call. I will probably drop by tomorrow morning. And if Allen calls needing some tech help, tell him that you are taking a sick day, one which you are more than entitled to.” With that, Len gave Cisco a kiss and left.

It was not the sort of kiss that Cisco wanted. Cisco wanted a deep searing one that made his toes curl and led to other fun stuff. This was just a chaste “take care” kiss and it was very disappointing. Well, there was always later.

ColdVibe

Len, true to his word did drop by the next day. He had in his hand a small grocery bag. He had stopped at the grocery store and picked up a few things for Cisco. He knew that he had to go and plan out his next heist, he had already put it off too many times, but he still wanted to do this.

He let himself into Cisco’s apartment and was met with the frankly adorable sight of his boyfriend curled up on the couch watching TV. Cisco had buried himself in blankets and was dozing off to the sound of Dick Van Dyke solving murders. Len hid a little smile and went over to his boyfriend.

He pressed one of his cool hands to Cisco’s forehead and Cisco groaned at the feeling. Len could tell that he had a slight fever and that was a little worrying. If it was the flu then it was very likely that Len would catch it. He always caught the flu. Whether he got the flu shot or not. There had been one year where he had gotten the flu 7 times.

You think his immune system would eventually get used to it. Nope, just let all those delightful little germs right into his system. Despite that Len knew he was still going to check in on Cisco. He couldn’t leave his boyfriend to battle it by himself. What kind of boyfriend would that make him?

The first thing he did was unpack the drinks that he had brought with him. Cokes, Orange Juice, Lemonade, and Gatorade were all set on the side table. After that came the croissants. Once he had all of the stuff unpacked he went over to the kitchen with the last few items. Just because yesterday he couldn’t do his slow simmer soup didn’t mean that today he couldn’t.

After tossing everything in the crockpot and setting it to low he went back into the living room Cisco was inspecting the food with surprise.

“You brought all this stuff for me?” Cisco’s surprise was not only at the fact that Len had brought him things that were good for when you were sick, but the things that Cisco preferred when he was sick.

“Of course I did. I want you to feel better and one of the best ways to do that is to have the things that make you feel better. I really wish I could stay and look after you but I need to go. I have just put off that work for way too long. I need to head out. I should be back this evening. Is there anything that I can get you before I go?”

Cisco gazed at him for a moment too long. Len shifted uncomfortably and had the sudden urge to run away. He didn’t do well with complicated relationship things. He just didn’t know how to deal with them really. Then, Cisco smiled at him. It was a soft smile that said all of the things that he wanted to out loud. The ones that he couldn’t because then it would make Len run away.

I love you. Thank you so much for taking care of me. Thank you for thinking of my feelings and well-being. Thank you for listening to me. Thank you for being here with me.

Len gave another uncomfortable shift, almost sensing what it was that Cisco wasn’t saying so Cisco knew he needed to let him be.

“No, I’m good. I will see you later this evening.” Len nodded to him and made his way out. He had a list of things that he really needed to get done that day. Hopefully in time to see Cisco at a decent time.

 Hours later Len found himself stumbling into Cisco’s apartment. It had been a long and exhausting day. Every time he had one problem squashed another one would pop up. Everything from Hartley messing up on some of the tech to Shawna not being able to find her way into their target. It had taken forever for each problem and he was tired.

He had made a promise though and he was damned if he wasn’t going to keep it. Cisco was sick and that was more important than a little tiredness over working too hard.

He went into the apartment to see Cisco still on the couch but upright. He seemed to be feeling better as at some point during the day he had put on actual clothes. Len was going to take that as a good sign. He planned on saying something romantic and then starting on dinner but he didn’t have the energy. He just sat down on the couch next to Cisco and gave a sigh.

Cisco smiled at him in sympathy. He knew exactly what that was like.

“Hey, babe. Long day?” Len turned to look at him with a raised eyebrow.

“No, I just love dealing with other people’s problems, it really makes me happy.” This was said in a completely deadpan tone. His words betraying his exhaustion. Cisco wasn’t feeling great himself but he had spent all day on the couch. He scooted closer to his lover and tucked into his side. Cisco laid his head on Len’s shoulder and automatically Len’s arm came up to wrap around him. Len gave a sigh and pressed a kiss to Cisco’s head.

“I should be taking care of you when you are sick. Not you listening to me rant about my problems with my illegal job. I’ll get up and make you some dinner in a minute.” Cisco gave a little frown at that.

“Len, our relationship isn’t one-sided. You don’t have to always be the one that does things. You can be the one that is taken care of now and then.” Len also frowned feeling like they might be getting ready to get into an argument.

“I know that. You’re the one that is sick though. You take care of the people that you love when you are sick. That is how it works.” Cisco narrowed his eyes. He knew that Len had a very particular way that he viewed relationships. Not an old fashioned way per se, he just thought that things should be done a certain way. It had caused problems in the past but this seemed like an odd sticking point.

“Babe, I’m mostly recovered. I’m not an invalid. Listening to you rant about your day at work isn’t really that strenuous anyway. Why is this bothering you so much?”

“When I was a kid my dad used to make me go on jobs. Even when I was really sick. So, I swore to myself that if I ever fell in love or became a parent that when they were sick my loved ones would never have to lift a finger.” His father. That bastard. Even dead he was still hurting Len. Cisco pressed a chaste kiss to the underside of Len’s jaw.

“That is all well and good but we eventually get better. And we all know what our limits out. When we tell you that we can handle something believe us, we can. Besides, we don’t want you to completely stifle your mother hen instincts. We just want you to take a breath now and then.”

Cisco used ‘we’ because he knew that Len probably did this with both Lisa and Mick. It was adorable in a way. But it could also be very frustrating. Cisco decided that he wasn’t going to make such a big deal out of it. If Len wanted to hover, he would be able to hover to his heart’s content. Len looked thoughtful for a moment. Len often knew that his hovering could be smothering. His sister and best friend had complained about it often enough. Maybe he could make the effort.

“All I can promise you is that I will try and lighten up a bit.” Cisco grinned at his lover. The mood suddenly lightened and the ghosts of the past disappearing.

“Great.

“Now, how about we order Chinese delivery and eat in the living room while watching a movie?” Len raised an eyebrow. He had very specific thoughts on eating in places that weren’t for eating but he was willing to let it slide. After all, Cisco was sick. The meal passed in quiet as both of them focused on the movie and their respective thoughts.

Once it was over Len began to tidy and Cisco rose to help him. Len raised his eyebrow and seemed to fight with himself for a moment. Then he moved aside and let Cisco help clean up their dinner. They got to the kitchen and put the dishes in the sink. Len however, drew the line at Cisco helping with the doing the dishes. He sent his lover back to the bedroom to take a shower and get ready for bed.

Len himself was staying over. He didn’t do it very often. He was reluctant to let the Rogues be by themselves, even with Mick and Lisa to look after them. However, he figured that they would be fine for at least one night. If they weren’t, well he could bail them out in the morning. Tonight was just about him and his sick lover.

After he finished the dishes he went back to the bedroom to see that Cisco was finishing up his shower. The brunet stepped out of the steamy bathroom and went over to the dresser. He picked out his softest, cleanest pajamas and climbed into bed. He shot Len a questioning look when he sees him changing for bed as well.

“I thought you couldn’t leave the Rouges alone for too long or they got into things that they aren’t supposed to?” Len sighed and gave a shrug. He climbed in next to Cisco pressing his body close.

“They’ll be alright for the night with Mick and Lisa there. I can’t usually do multiple days because things will get hairy. And if they aren’t alright then I can save them in the morning. Tonight is just about you and me and spending some quality time together.” Cisco smiled and gave him a soft kiss on the lips. The two of them pressed close and drifted off.

[kriskebob-blog]

Day 3: My experiment is tested by weekend socializing

Hi friends. Happy Saturday night! Tonight I’m blogging about the events of yesterday, which I think was probably my most uneventful day so far on this dietary adventure... at least in terms of shopping and prepping interesting new meals. Both breakfast and lunch were covered by leftovers - we still had half the burrito bake left and then we polished off the salad and zoodles for lunch. According to the order of recipes as given by Dr. G, our next dinner would be spinach and mushroom black bean burritos. I took a look at the recipe. It looked like one of the simplest ones yet. A can of black beans, some minced onion and garlic, some chopped mushroom, a few handfuls of baby spinach... and then some seasoning in the form of savory spice blend (already prepped), cayenne pepper (duh of course I’d have that), summer salsa (already prepped), and then Dr. G’.s “Healthy Hot Sauce (see page 8)”. Psh. This was going to be nothing after all the cooking I’d done yesterday. Today would actually feel like more of a “normal” day where all I really had to worry about cooking was a quick dinner. It felt good and right for a Friday. Time to unwind a little, you know? We also had plans that night to meet up for a game night with some friends who had recently moved back to CT after a few years out west. 

The one thing I’d have to stop and prep before throwing together these vegan burritos was the “healthy hot sauce” but I didn’t think that’d be a big deal. I had purchased several big handfuls of fresh red chiles at Big Y that morning. The guy bagging my groceries had raised his brows. “Habaneros? Oh, man. I wouldn’t eat those,” he shook his head. I smiled politely and thought to myself, Shit. I had never cooked with habaneros before. I hadn’t realized that’s what these peppers were; the bin had only been labeled “hot chiles.” (Does anyone else’s grocery store have this tendency not to specify which fresh chiles are which?? It’s annoying honestly!) I’m sure it’ll be fine. I’ll just... use less or something if I need to, I thought doubtfully. The cookbook hadn’t specified what kind of chiles to use, it’d just specify that they be “fresh hot chiles, a single type or mixed.” I had gone for the red ones because I’d liked the idea of a traditional red hot sauce. Suddenly I wasn’t so sure about my choice, but no turning back at that point. 

Oh, and in case you wondered how my second trip to the grocery store this week went - MUCH easier! I didn’t end up needing nearly as much stuff the second time, in part because I still had tons of produce left over from my earlier visit this week and I also had less pantry items to purchase this time (didn’t need to return to Whole Foods, thank god). I did end up picking up a big container of unsalted roasted almonds and then lots of blueberries from the farm stand because I was really going to need more fast snacking options if I was going to make it through these two weeks without stuffing granola in my face. Even with two pints of blueberries and 22oz of almonds, my bill was definitely improved from last time. I’ve still spent a lot more on groceries this week than I normally would, but I had expected as much. Hard to avoid it when you’re replacing cheap staples like eggs and toast with a heaping plate of fiber every morning. 

Alright so back to the point aka what I expected to be a totally easy day of food prep. All I needed to prep that night were some simple burritos, this “healthy hot sauce” alternative, and then a snack to share when we went to see our friends. I had decided on the edamame guacamole recipe in Dr. G’s book. Since you obviously want your guac to be as fresh as possible when it’s eaten, I’d wait until we got pretty close to our planned departure time to throw it together. I figured it’d take like ten minutes maybe. 

Sam got home early and was eager to help me prep dinner like the gem that he is. “Honestly, we can probably wait another half hour or so,” I told him. “This isn’t going to take that long to prep or cook.” So we got started around 5:15. We wanted to be at our friends’ place for 7:00 so that seemed like plenty of time to cover a quick dinner and then throw together the guac. 

Except then I flipped back to actually read the “healthy hot sauce” recipe more carefully. I blinked as I realized it wanted me to cook down the chiles for nearly half an hour and then “allow them to come to room temperature.” Would have been no big deal at all... if I had bothered to read this an hour earlier. Whoops. Shit, I thought. Within ~10 seconds I decided screw it. I really wasn’t feeling too confident about those habaneros anyways and we still had a big jug of Frank’s hot sauce in the fridge. Definitely not a whole food, but what the hell was the harm of adding a tiny bit of a normal condiment here or there? I looked again at the burrito recipe. It said to just add hot sauce to taste. We could probably just skip it entirely then. Great. Problem solved. I’ll use those chiles and try to make the hot sauce another day, I thought, doubting myself even as I said the words in my own head. 

As expected, the spinach & mushroom black bean filling was super quick to prepare and cook. One thing I’m realizing is that the cooking process for a lot of these meals is honestly a lot simpler than meat-based meals (or at least so long as you have your fancy hand-made condiments, salsas, sauces, raw cashews, etc etc prepped in advance...). The vegetables often only need a few minutes to cook down, you don’t have to stop to wash your hands every time you handle a piece of raw meat or egg, and, of course, you don’t have to worry about actually cooking any animal protein. Just cook those veggies down some, season them to your liking, and you’re golden. And speaking of seasoning, I did end up adding a bit of Frank’s to the mixture in the pot. But just a splash okay! 

Aw yea. And then here’s a burrito topped with the salsa before it got devoured (it was super messy btw): 

The verdict for this one? Tasty... but again, it needed salt. I haven’t been tasting the food for saltiness before sitting down to eat it because I’ve been trying to stick to Dr. G’s sodium substitutes/replacements but I don’t know how much longer I’m going to last! I actually would have liked to see what it tasted like with some fennel seed added in; I always remember one black bean taco recipe I made ages ago that I loved mainly because of that spice’s inclusion. It’s a nice way to trick your brain into thinking you might be eating sausage. 

We cleaned up the kitchen and it was a little after 6. Our friends only lived 15-20 minutes away. “Let’s wait until like 6:30 before we put together the guac, so that it’s fresh,” I told Sam. 

This was to end up being a major mistake on my part. So, first of all, it was definitely a risky move to decide to bring something like “edamame guacamole” to a social gathering. People are really freaking opinionated about what guacamole is supposed to taste like (myself included, admittedly). I’d had edamame before and I figured its addition would go mostly unnoticed under the flavors of lime, cilantro, jalapeno, etc. 

Looks like the right set-up for the makings of a perfectly normal and tasty guacamole, no?

Sadly, it really just didn’t come out good at all. I tasted it and actually winced. There was a sharp bitter flavor that took me completely aback. “I think the edamame is throwing me off,” I told Sam, who had also tasted it and looked as uneasy as I felt. I wasn’t sure what else the issue could be if not the obvious interloper ingredient. I’d even insisted we add in some kosher salt even though Dr. G, of course, called for his “savory spice blend” instead. Guacamole without any actual salt is a freaking crime, I’m sorry Dr. G. “Add more lime juice maybe?” I suggested to Sam, as he was the one who had thrown it together (have I mentioned that he’s the best?). I also added a bit more salt. 

We tried for a long time to salvage that guac. We added plenty more lime. More tomato. We even decided to blend up another avocado to try and mask the admittedly weird presence of the edamame. I tried it again and still winced a little. It still had a bitter bite to it that we couldn’t seem to mask. “I think it might not even be the edamame... it seems like it might be the jalapeno,” I told Sam. Well. This sucked. I’d just bought a handful of jalapenos fresh from the farmstand that very morning. For maybe the first time ever, Johnny Appleseed’s had let me down, and they had let me down hard. 

We were running pretty late at this point. We hemmed and hawed about if we should stop at the store and pick up something else to bring but in the end we decided to grin and bear it, and off we went to see our friends, subpar homemade guac and freshcut veggies in tow. Our friends were perfectly polite about the guac (we had told them why we’d been late), but let’s just say it definitely wasn’t the hit of the evening. Sigh. Our first foray into sharing a Dr. G recipe with friends had not exactly gone well, but it’s hard to say whether it was the recipe itself or the bitterness of that pepper. I do know that if I made that recipe again, I’d add even more salt, cause honestly Dr. G, if even a metric f@*!-ton of vegetables every day isn’t enough to save my arteries from hypertension, I’m not sure they deserve saving anyways. 

We had a nice night seeing old friends and meeting some new ones. I will say, though, that I was agonizingly tempted by the cookies that were set out for any guest to grab. They were the huge chocolate-chip/M&M ones from Stop and Shop and anyone who’s ever been at a party with me knows I love those things, damn it. I tried not to stare too jealously at everyone else as they ate their cookies and instead I ate a couple of slices of watermelon. I’ve actually never been a watermelon fan, but at that point I was willing to take whatever acceptable form of sugar I could get! And you know, it was honestly pretty good. 

We got home around midnight and I kicked off my shoes, still sighing at Sam about how badly I had wanted one of those cookies. Unsurprisingly, he had no sympathy for me and my self-imposed first world problems. It was past our bedtime but I didn’t want to go to bed, I wanted to plop on the couch with a cookie and a beer, or maybe a nice glass of wine. Just yesterday I was writing about how surviving my first complete day of only plant-based whole foods hadn’t been that hard, but now it was Friday night, a night when Sam and I normally celebrated the end of another work week with some sort of indulgence - a dinner out, a trip to the ice cream stand, a bottle of wine or a six-pack... hell, sometimes all three. I changed into my pajamas and thought about the fact that all of my favorite vices in life seem to involve putting large amounts of sugar and/or a few drinks into my bloodstream. It admittedly didn’t seem awesome for my longterm health to be doing that even as often as once a week. And we’d still had fun that night without any of that, right? Right. 

I dutifully stuffed a final late night snack of some unsalted peanuts into my mouth and ten minutes later brushed my teeth and went to bed. Survived another day and managed to cheat only a tiny bit with my defiant pinches of kosher salt and splashes of Frank’s red hot sauce. 

Hope you’ll be back for Day 4′s write-up tomorrow, friends! Here’s a bonus: an action shot of Sammy the Sous Chef getting our veggie platter ready: 

Gadget rec of the day: A good blender! Most of us already have a blender I think, but if you really want to incorporate more whole foods and produce into your diet I think a good blender is an absolute must. I’ve only been following this diet for three days and I’ve already used our blender more times than I can count on one hand. 

Music rec of the day: “Sophia” by Laura Marling