#girls are leaving at 11:30 but got excused from that class so i could just skip...

[jieas]

having monday off, being sick tuesday/wednesday, actually going to school thursday, and getting excused early on today for a tournament so only going to school for a day and a half this week

[brockadoodles]

Take my Heart, I’ll Give you my Soul - b. boeser

AN: Alright, here it is. Without a doubt my favorite and most popular fic. It will probably flop and my heart will shatter since this is a repost but y’all said you wanted it so here ya goooooo. 

Word Count: 24,717

Warnings: Drinking, angst, mentions of sex, and that it’s a long one. 

It might have been dramatic, but you couldn’t possibly imagine that you had ever had a day as exhausting as this. It was your senior year of university, and one of your seminars was an 8am. Normally this wasn’t an issue, you generally enjoyed mornings, especially in your new apartment. Ever since moving in six months ago, you found yourself waking up early to enjoy the sunrise over the city, sipping your morning coffee on your balcony as you watched the city come to life. Lights slowly turn on, pinks, and orange hues lighting up the sky as the sun rises. You found it calming, taking extra care to slow your breathing down and relax, the cool air running through your hair. 

This particular morning, however, had gone entirely wrong. You must have forgotten to plug your phone in the night before, waking up slowly around 7:30, which gave you nowhere near enough time to shower, get dressed, and commute from the city to campus. 

You rushed through your morning routine, simply brushing your teeth, throwing up your hair, and a simple combination of a sweatshirt and leggings to get you through the day. You were the type of person who hated being late, to you, if you weren’t at least ten minutes early to something, you got a sense of uneasiness in your stomach. You tried to brush the feeling off, reassuring yourself that your professor didn’t care and that you were still attending the seminar rather than skipping like most students probably would have. 

You rushed out the door, locking it swiftly and throwing your bag over your shoulder, walking quickly toward the elevators of your building. You tapped your foot impatiently as you watched the numbers on top of the doors count upward to yours. When the doors opened, you saw Brock standing there, a deep blue Canucks sweatshirt on him, dark grey sweats covering his legs. You stepped aside, allowing him and his dog, Coolie, to walk out of the doors. You had only met Brock a few times, being as he was your across the hall neighbor and you hadn’t seen him until one morning in August, him introducing himself to you in the elevator. You had spoken a few times in passing, never more than a quick hello as one of you was coming or going, but he always offered a friendly smile. 

Today he looked different, a frown on his features while he exited. He was clearly stuck in his own head over something, thoughts mulling around. If it weren’t for Coolie rushing to your legs, he probably wouldn’t have even noticed you standing there. 

“Good morning, Coolie.” You leaned down to pet the dog, scratching softly behind his ears while he wagged his tail. Brock smiled over at you, mumbling a quick hello before you parted ways for the day. You barely knew him, but something felt unsettling about the way he looked at you. The smile didn’t reach his eyes, and it seemed more than just the fact that it was early morning. 

The day progressed and things quickly escalated from minor inconveniences to flat out annoyance. Class passed by painfully slowly, and your shift at work dragged on, with your boss coming hard on you for something you didn’t feel at fault for. By the time you got back to your apartment, you had three new assignments due, and a new deadline for a project at work. Your head was pounding from the stress, and you pulled your hair up into a loose bun and settled into your glass of red wine, a pair of old red fuzzy socks adorning your feet. You combed through the cupboards, wine glass in hand as you pulled out ingredients for cookies with your other hand, knowing that baking might help take your mind off of things and that the smell of freshly baked cookies would remind you of home. 

You had always been a stress baker, finding something relaxing about the meticulous craft that was baking, comfort coming from strict measurements, and the feeling of control as you worked through various recipes. It had gotten you through many rough patches in life, and earned you a ton of friends more than willing and enthusiastic to consume all of the treats you baked. 

When you moved to Vancouver, you lost that luxury, and you hadn’t really felt stressed enough to whip out the supplies since moving in six months ago. But with that day being so long and exhausting, you found yourself missing home more than you usually did, and as you had for many years, you turned toward baking to get you through the homesickness. 

You turned on some music, letting it play softly as you started mixing your dough. You danced around in your kitchen feeling the tension release from your body and your head start to clear as you loaded up a plate of chocolate chip cookies, exiting your apartment and heading to the one across the hall before you could consciously realize what you were doing. You could blame it on the glass of wine, but if you were to dig deep into the archives of your mind, you knew it was because there was a nagging feeling about Brock nestled there all day. A single thread tying you to this boy you barely knew, wanting to make his day just a bit better. 

You raised your fist to the door, knocking softly while balancing the plate of cookies in your other hand.  You instantly regretted what you were doing as soon as you removed your knuckles from his door and heard Coolie’s feet scrambling around inside the apartment. You held the plate nervously, the few leftover chocolate chip cookies still warm from the oven. You knew you looked like a mess, your hair was sloppily thrown up on your head and your makeup had long since been removed. The dark leggings you wore were stained with flour, from you accidentally wiping your hands on them while mixing your dough. You told yourself that it didn’t matter, you and Brock were friendly enough, and with the look on his face that morning not leaving your mind for most of the day, you wondered if maybe your neighbor needed some sort of pick me up of his own. 

“Hello.” You were met with a voice you didn’t recognize. You looked up at the young man standing in the doorway, Coolie trying to rush out of the door once he saw it was you standing there. You made eye contact with him, noting that he was tall, and blonde, like Brock. He was wearing a Canucks sweatshirt, similar to the ones you had seen Brock in many times, so you could only assume he might be a teammate or someone else who works in the organization. 

“Petey, who is it?” You heard Brock’s unmistakable voice, muffled from the walls. The boy in front of you smirked, looking down at the cookies in your hand, and your cheeks flushed red in embarrassment.

“Uhm, is Brock here?” You asked tentatively, sneaking a glance past the blonde-haired stranger in front of you. 

“It is a girl with cookies.” He called back, voice calm and monotone. You weren’t sure what to make of him, he wasn’t not being nice, but he was quieter than Brock. And now, with it arguably too late to turn back, you were beginning to feel regret creep up inside you about going over there in the first place. 

The door flew open after your short interaction with the other blond, revealing Brock. Coolie immediately rushed out, tail wagging as he whined for your attention and sniffed your legs. Brock smiled at you, a more genuine smile than you had seen from him this morning, and it instantly melted all of your nerves as he motioned for you to come inside the apartment.   

“God, I don’t deserve you.” He groaned, reaching down to the plate of freshly baked cookies you just set on his counter. You saw another young boy sitting on the couch, dark brown hair, and dark circles under his eyes. He looked a little awkward and was staring blankly at the basketball highlights playing on Brock’s TV. You suddenly felt embarrassed, you had no idea who these friends of Brock’s were, and here you stood, hair a mess, covered in flour, bringing your neighbor who you barely knew cookies in the late evening. 

Brock either noticed you tense up, or was just genuinely polite enough to speak up after he swallowed the last bite of the cookie. 

“Ah, this is Petey.” He properly introduced the blonde who answered the door, clapping a hand quickly to his shoulder before throwing it back to point at the other boy on the couch.

“And that little dead kid is Quinn.” He smiled. Quinn looked over at you, smiling softly and nodding his head before resuming watching the television, not even reacting to Brock borderline insulting him. Brock eyed you curiously as you reached down to pet Coolie who was pawing at your leg for attention, a fond look on his face. Petey eyed you suspiciously, watching as his best friend looked over at you. He assumed this was the pretty neighbor he always talked about, who he never actually had the nerve to hang out with on his own. 

You could see Petey mulling over the interaction, almost as if you were watching him analyze the situation, causing you to feel exposed there in Brock’s kitchen. You swallowed, just about ready to gather your excuses and head back home before Brock spoke up. 

“So, what brings you over at 11:30 with freshly baked cookies? Seems a bit late for baking.” He teased, chuckling lightly as you stood back up, wiping your hands on your already dirty leggings. You felt your cheeks heat up with his eyes on you, you were a bit embarrassed, having intruded on what appeared to be their guys' night. 

“Just had a long day and baking helps me unwind. I made too many and don’t know anyone else so…” Your voice got softer as you spoke, unsure of what else to say. You brushed a strand of hair away from your face, watching carefully as Petey went and sat next to Quinn, the two of them whispering a bit as you stood in the kitchen still with Brock. Brock leaned across the counter a bit in front of you, resting his chin in his hands while he studied your face. The next words out of his mouth smooth.

“Want to grab coffee tomorrow morning and talk about it?” He asked. Your eyes widened a bit, this was your neighbor, who sure, you were friendly with and was ridiculously cute, but coffee? Was it a date? Was it the beginning of a friendship? You weren’t sure. You glanced over to the couch, the other two boys now with their full attention on you, making you nervous once more. You swallowed one again, clearing your throat quietly as you answered. 

“Sure.” 

“Cool. There’s this really old place a block from here, they have the best latte art.” He smiled once more, grabbing another piece of a cookie and popping it into his mouth. 

“Latte art?” You questioned, finding it oddly charming that this tall, broad guy would be interested in something as trivial as that. But you didn’t know anything about Brock yet, and you couldn’t help but smile a little bit at how adorable it was. 

“Very cool, one time they tried to do a portrait of me.” He nodded. 

“It was ugly.” Petey jumped in, smirking at his friend for finally making the move at getting to know the cute neighbor he had to suffer through Brock always talking about. Brock laughed, a genuine full laugh where his hand rested on his stomach and his eyes crinkled and you instantly felt yourself growing captivated by him. He had the best laugh and it made you feel warm, something that no one else had ever been able to do for you.

“9?” He ignored his friend, instead focussing his attention only on you. You nodded before saying goodnight to everyone. You walked back into your apartment, hopping in the shower and working through your evening routine, mentally preparing to keep yourself up all night in anticipation of this coffee date with the cute boy across the hall. 

The next morning you found yourself irrationally anxious, silently cursing yourself for agreeing to coffee with Brock. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to go, you liked Brock, maybe had a bit of a crush on him, but that was exactly the problem. You had no idea why someone as cute and successful as that wanted anything to do with you. You were just a normal person, finishing up your undergrad at the University of British Columbia, hopefully entering the world after with some sort of better job than you already had that would allow you to stay in the city. Brock probably had way better options than you on his horizon, given that he was, from what you gathered, a successful professional athlete. 

The fears melted away when Brock knocked on your door the next morning, a smile on his face and dark beanie covering his hair. You felt more comfortable around him than you expected so early on in what would eventually become a close friendship, following his lead as you entered the elevator together. Conversation flowing easily between you as you walked the short distance to the coffee shop he had been so excited about from the night before. 

It didn’t feel like he was a stranger, and you found yourself wanting to share more with him than you normally would with someone who was just an acquaintance from across the hall. You also noticed how attractive he was, feeling yourself blush more than once as he intently listened to you tell him about your school and work. 

You reached the shop, looking up at the old wooden building, a stark contrast from some of the more modern structures lining the streets. It felt homey, a warm-toned feeling emulating from the outside, spreading to the inside as Brock held the door open for you, motioning you inside. You looked around at the shop, seemingly empty for that early in the morning, just a few other patrons scattered throughout. Brock followed you up to the counter, saying hello to the barista who seemed to recognize him. 

“Hey Brock, the usual?” She asked, her hand reaching for a cup to write his order down. You noticed how friendly he seemed toward everyone, nodding to the other barista who was across the shop, wiping down tables, a quality that you found yourself attracted to. 

“Yeah, but for here.” He smiled, looking toward you. You felt your cheeks flush, carefully saying you’d take whatever he was having, feeling slightly embarrassed. The barista nodded, grabbing another mug with a smile on her face as she looked from you to Brock and you tried not to think about if you were the first girl that he had brought here as he handed over some cash to pay for the drinks.

You settled into a table near the back of the coffee shop, talking endlessly about anything and everything together. Brock was a presence that you didn’t know how you lived with just in passing for the last few months, now that you were seeing what he was showing you. The strange thing about it was how natural it felt, a connection between you that you couldn't explain. 

You watched Brock curiously as he was speaking, finding yourself slowly memorizing each feature of him as if you were painting a picture in your mind for safekeeping. You felt drawn to the way his eyes closed as he smiled, and the way his hand rested on his stomach when he laughed. He was distracting, in the most endearing sense of the word. You sat there in that coffee shop, listening to him for almost two hours that morning, a fluttering in your stomach and heart that you were cautious about. 

When Brock walked you to your door that was just across from his, there was an easy smile on his features as the conversation dwindled down. You felt your cheeks heat up as he stood close to you, your hand fumbling in your bag for your keys, his eyes softly on you.  

“Since we’re now friends.” He started, a small smirk present as the two of you stood in front of your door. 

“Can I have your number so we can do this again sometime?” He added, leaning his shoulder against the door frame, coming in close to your body. He smelled like cinnamon and cloves, the warm smile still present on his face as he watched you, carefully gauging your reaction to his seemingly weighted question. You had to concentrate on not fumbling while you exchanged phones, entering your phone number into his.

When he handed you your phone back, you laughed softly at his contact entry, the little whale emoji and blue heart next to his name, feeling yourself flush at your cute neighbor who you just had what some would assume was a great first date with. You tried to ignore the flutter in your chest as the texts started coming in, communication between you becoming a new constant in your life, friendship coming together seamlessly as it was meant to be. 

The only downside was that as you started getting closer to Brock, the more it became painfully obvious your crush was unrequited. But that was okay with you because having Brock as a friend in the city was something you were grateful for, and if it meant you had to pack up your seemingly silly crush into a box, sealed and locked away in the depths of your heart, you would, because having him was as a friend was better than not having him at all. 

Brock, however, knew he liked you from the first time you showed up to his condo, your red fuzzy socks on your feet, flour across your legs, and cookies in your hands. He had seen you many times before, in passing when one of you was leaving or coming back, but when you knocked on his door that late November night, he knew you were someone that he wanted to get to know better.        

---------

December came and you and Brock had quickly gotten close, any awkwardness that you usually experience with a new friend as you get to know them had already melted away. You found yourself at his condo more often than your own on days and nights that he wasn’t out of town. He had even gotten you to go to one of their home games, surprising you with a jersey beforehand and laughing when it wasn’t even one of his. 

“Brock last I checked, your last name is not Pettersson.” You ran your hands over the stitching, and you tried not to let your quickly beating heart question why he wouldn’t want you to have one of his. 

“Yeah, I’m sorry. I didn’t have time to grab one but I knew I had this. Don’t worry, next game it’ll say Boeser.” You nodded at his words, pushing down any anxieties you had as you folded the jersey and set it down, making a mental note to not forget it as you left. 

“Okay, let me cook you, useless boy.” You joked, shooting him out of his own kitchen while you started washing the vegetables and preparing dinner. 

You and Brock had developed somewhat of a routine the last few weeks, with at least two dinners a week together when his schedule would allow it. It was nice at first until Brock absolutely wrecked a simple meal and you realized you’d either be eating takeout or cooking yourself each time. You didn’t mind though, because you liked being there with him, a lazy smile on his face as he tried to help you with whatever you were making, usually sneaking in bites of the food while he thought that you weren’t looking. 

“So let me get this straight, you need me, to go on a double date with you and some girl Quinn wants to impress? Why?” You laughed. 

“He really likes this girl, and you know how huggy is, he’s awkward.” Brock smiled, knowing that you had a soft spot for the little Canuck of the team. He reached over with his fork, grabbing a quick bite of your roasted vegetables from your plate, humming as he plopped them into his mouth. You swatted his hand away from your plate, rolling your eyes as he overly exaggerated how good the roasted veggies were while he chewed. 

“Please? He’s taking her mini-golfing, clearly, he needs help!” He laughed once more, thinking about how nervous his teammate had been over this date, practically begging him to come along. “Plus, I can’t just third wheel it.” Brock added. 

You rolled your eyes, softening a bit at the idea of helping Quinn. Brock watched you as you pondered over the idea, knowing that you would probably say yes. You knew he wasn’t seeing anyone, so it wasn’t as if there was an option for him to bring a date. 

“Fine, on one condition.” You said, pointing toward Brock with your wine glass in hand. 

“I win put put, and you’re taking me out to that fancy new brunch place downtown.” Brock smiled at your words, relieved that you said yes. He raised his beer to your wine glass, clanking them together softly as he grinned at you, cheeks slightly pink. 

“Done deal. You know if you wanted me to take you on a fancy brunch date, all you had to do was ask.” He teased. Your own cheeks now rivaled his, your crush on your best friend bubbling to the surface. Brock winked at you as you shifted in your seat, gulping back the last of your wine while shifting your eyes away from him. You needed to compose yourself, Brock was just joking around, he wouldn’t actually be taking you on a date and you needed to keep telling yourself that to push the lingering feelings away.

“Don’t push it Boeser.” You smirked, gathering your plate and heading into your kitchen, leaving him at the table while you started packing up the leftovers from the dinner you cooked for the two of you. 

A few nights later you found a nervous Quinn in the elevator as you were heading back home to get ready for this date. He was wearing some nice jeans and a simple sweater, with a dark jacket over it, cleaning up nicely. His eyes looked nervous but it looked like he had slept, a good sign you thought. He had a small bouquet of roses in his hands, debatably too much for a low key first date, but you shrugged it off, thinking that this girl would probably appreciate the effort. 

“Quinn, what made you think it was a good idea to take a girl on a date outside in December?” You said, ruffling his hair quickly as you walked down the hallway toward Brock’s door. 

“I didn’t really think about it..” he trailed off, avoiding eye contact. You touched his arm soothingly before knocking softly on Brock’s door, Coolie barking in the background. 

Despite the cold weather, and Brock trying to block every shot of yours that you tried to get to go in, you were having a great time. It was deceiving though, because you were sort of in your head about all of it, almost giving yourself the illusion that the date with Brock was real. 

You stepped off to the side of the course, leaning against a short fence. Brock followed you, positioning himself right next to you, close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating from his body. 

“What do you think?” He asked, nodding his head toward where his teammate was, fumbling over his golf club while Kyn laughed at him softly. You smiled. 

“I like her, he looks like a nervous wreck but it’s nice to at least see some emotion.” You joked, leaning against the small white fence next to Brock as you watched Quinn fumble over Kyn. She was currently giving him an earful about how to properly put the shot in through the small windmill, Quinn looking at her with adoration in his eyes.

Brock laughed, throwing an arm around your shoulder while he watched them. It was stupid, really, how such a simple action from him caused you to feel nervous. You had known Brock for a while now and while he wasn’t overly affectionate with other people that you could tell, he always seemed to have a need to be touching you when you were together. Sometimes it was his knee brushed up against yours on the couch during movie nights, sometimes it was his arm casually thrown over your shoulder while you were out with some of the team, and sometimes it was his hand brushing against yours while you walked. 

“Wanna ditch them?” Brock’s voice pulled you from your own head. You looked over at where Quinn and Kyn were standing, he was laughing at something she said, both seemingly oblivious to the fact that you and Brock had separated yourselves from them. You turned toward Brock, leaning into him slightly.

“Movie night?” You asked, knowing that those were likely going to be the next words from his mouth. Brock smiled, leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to your temple, sending your heart flying at the seemingly friendly kiss. 

Brock pulled back, avoiding your eye as if he wasn’t sure why he had just done that and you felt your shoulders slump a bit at his reaction, only reinforcing his lack of feelings for you. But, the moment passed almost as quickly as it came, and he smiled down at you.

“You know me so well.” He said, the two of you already leaving the mini-golf course, seeing Quinn and Kyn in the distance, a budding romance building up between them that you found yourself slightly jealous over, no matter how hard you tried to push the thoughts of Brock taking you on a real date away. 

---------

The next week, you were lounging on Brock’s couch, Coolie with his head on your lap, your hand resting gently on his head. Brock was in Washington DC, the Canucks on an east coast run. Over the last few weeks, you had slowly become the one that Brock trusted enough to watch Coolie, with you usually staying over at his condo, keeping an eye on things whenever he was gone. It was nice, domesticity with Brock that you fell comfortably into. You felt at home in his place, after many nights spent there with him over the few short weeks you had known him, and you absolutely loved the dog. 

You never thought about how your friendship looked to other people, how quickly everything seemed to progress. You just felt like Brock knew you, and you knew him, two pieces of a puzzle that fit together smoothly, the only rough edges being your unrequited feelings for him. 

You sometimes wondered if it was crossing some sort of metaphorical barrier of friendship though.  You slowly picked up on him not talking to other girls, him calling and texting you even more so than he already used to, his body usually as close to yours as possible when you were together, and you would be lying if you said that you didn’t let your heart think about what it all meant. 

The annoying thing was that you beat yourself up over it, allowing your mind to drift into places that Brock never put you in, in the first place. He never did anything to make you feel not good enough for him, so why did you suddenly feel like that’s what it was? 

You hadn’t been able to watch the game that night, getting in late from work as you rushed from your office back to where Brock lived, where you used to live. You had seen the score though, and you knew the Canucks lost, and you were anxiously awaiting Brock’s Facetime to talk it out with him. 

Brock always called you after bad games, or away games. There was something soothing in your ability to ground him, you listened to him, never offering advice if it wasn’t warranted, but you held him accountable to his game. He loved that about you, you had taken the time to learn him, memorizing everything about the inner workings of his mind to a point where he was unsure of if anyone would ever compare to you. Brock wanted you, more than anything, but what you had was so valuable that he wasn’t sure if it was worth the risk of losing. So instead, he took what he could get from you, and tried his best to give you everything you needed in return. He knew he was setting himself up for heartbreak down the line, but he didn’t care, so he kept dialing your number, with no intentions of stopping. 

You picked up on the third ring, switching the call to facetime. Brock’s heart swelling in his chest, seeing you there in his condo, with his dog laying on you. He was selfishly getting too used to it, coming home to you, so much so that he found himself missing you when he would find stray items of yours scattered around. The hair ties in the bathroom, or the smell of your shampoo on his pillows. He knew he was falling, hard, and every time he came home to you, he found it harder and harder to restrain. Li

“Hey,” you said, eyes soft as you took in his appearance. He was in a hotel room, the dim lighting, and bad decor a giveaway. He looked tired, as you scanned his face you saw the large gash on his cheek, flecks of bruising starting to appear around it.

“Oh my god, are you okay?” You rushed out, instantly worried. You hadn’t seen anything about him getting injured, and even if it was just a cut, you felt a tugging on your chest, needing to know he was okay. 

“Yeah, yeah I’m okay, just a high stick. My shoulder is a bit sore though, I took some bad hits.” He said, voice calm and reassuring. Brock was the type of guy who didn’t like to complain, he didn’t want people worrying about him, so he tended to brush things off, instead of focusing on what others needed. It was one of your favorite things about him, how selfless he was, but sometimes you needed him to take care of himself. You never said anything though, because it wasn’t your place to tell Brock how to react or not react to things that happened to him, especially if they were in his career. It was your job to be there as his friend and support him when he needed it, so that’s what you did night after night, facetime calls going so late into the night, often falling asleep next to one another on-screen. 

“Tell me about your day though, could use the distraction.” He smiled. You could tell that something was off with him, maybe it was that he didn’t want to worry you with his pain, or maybe something else happened and he didn’t want to talk about it. Brock rarely asked for a distraction, he was always forthcoming with you, so him not wanting to talk about what happened bothered you, more so than it probably should have. 

You bit your lip, glancing away from the camera slightly before looking back at him, short enough that you didn’t think he would notice. The truth was that you didn’t have a good day, you found out that you were going to be unable to go home for Christmas, something you had been looking forward to since moving to Vancouver. 

Brock noticed something was wrong as soon as you picked up the call and switched it to facetime. You looked tired, your eyes heavy, the room dark with just the small lamp by his couch illuminating your face. He still thought you were beautiful, his mind reeling when he noticed you were wearing one of his sweatshirts, something that you did often that he never grew tired of. He saw you bite your lip and look away, something that you had a tendency to do when something was wrong. He softened a bit, waiting to see if you would bring it up with him. When you didn’t answer right away, he said your name softly and you turned, offering him a small but not quite all there smile in return.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asked. You looked at Brock, not necessarily surprised at how he picked up on your shift in mood. You felt your eyes well up with tears, partially from the news from today, partially because you were simply exhausted, and partially because you missed him. He had been gone almost a week now and you were missing him more than you knew you should for being just his friend. Being in his condo, sleeping in his bed, the scent of him everywhere, it felt too intimate and you were beginning to get overwhelmed by what it all meant. 

“I can’t go home for Christmas.” you softly said, him frowning slightly in return. 

Brock knew how much that trip meant to you. You loved the holidays and you had been telling him for weeks how excited you were to go home and bake with your mom, go out to the tree farm and cut down the perfect tree with your dad, and just be around your family that you hadn’t seen in months. He also knew that most of the people you were close to in the city probably weren’t staying in the city for the holidays, and his heart ached at the thought of you spending Christmas alone. 

“I’ll stay with you.” He said, voice small as if he was afraid this was too much, or the wrong thing to do. 

“No, Brock you can’t, what about your dad?” You frowned, knowing how important going back to Minnesota whenever he could was to him. Brock picked up the phone, adjusting it on his pillow as he shifted around in the bed. 

“I’ll just go home for All-Star break, it’s only a few more weeks, they’ll understand.” 

“Brock-” you tried, him cutting you off quickly.

“I want to stay, let me.” He sounded so sincere, and you couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed by it. You knew Brock cared about you, he always made you feel like you were one of the most important people in his life, but volunteering to stay with you for Christmas because he felt bad you couldn’t go home was heartwarming in a way that you couldn’t describe. You felt light tears pricking in the corner of your eyes, the relief from knowing you wouldn’t be alone during your favorite time of the year making you emotional. 

You propped the phone on the coffee table in front of you and pulled one of the sleeves of the sweatshirt down to wipe your eyes. Smiling softly at Brock who was watching you carefully, taking in your movements, hoping that you wouldn’t fight him on this. 

“Okay.” was all you could manage, the tears slipping out quicker. 

“Good, because I really think I need to make my trainer mad by eating a whole batch of those gingerbread cookies you have been raving about for a month.” Brock joked, trying to lighten the mood. He hated seeing you cry and it was even more distressing to him when you were alone in his condo, him a thousand miles away unable to do anything about it. 

You smiled at his joke, nodding your head at his words. Words couldn’t describe how appreciative you were of Brock, and a few weeks later when Christmas did roll around, you baked him two batches of those gingerbread cookies, watching in enamored amusement as he tried to shape them into various shapes. You were treading down a slippery slope with Brock, one that you were terrified of as the train raced down the track, headed toward the sharp curve of your heart, a curve that you weren’t sure the train could withstand. 

---------

January came and went, with you busying yourself with your last semester of classes, and Brock going home over the All-Star break, you felt like you hadn’t seen him in a while. It was the busiest month for both of you, with the Canucks mostly out of town for away games, the only times you truly got to see Brock were when he would come back to his condo late from roadies, carefully slipping himself into the bed next to you, softly murmured “hellos” before you both drifted back to sleep. 

It was agonizing in a way, this back of forth with Brock, you were friends, but ever since Christmas, it had felt like more. You were almost sure he was going to kiss you that night, the tree illuminated in the background, joking around about hanging mistletoe up. And you let yourself stand there in front of him, prepared to take what felt like a long-overdue step in the confines of your relationship and it just never came. Brock never leaned in to kiss you that night, and you had carefully replayed the entire scenario over and over in your head wondering why he didn’t. 

But now it was late February, and you were running late from work getting to Brock’s birthday party. You had been excited about this the whole week, feeling like you hadn’t had that many great opportunities to spend quality time with him. You were in the throws of midterm exams and a big project deadline at work, simply catching glimpses of him in late-night Facetime calls or the occasional morning coffee runs together if he didn’t have a morning skate or practice scheduled that day. 

You had felt something shift since he spent Christmas with you, a dynamic in your friendship that felt slightly different. You didn’t know how to describe it, but the thoughts of him as more than your friend were getting stronger, more evident in the way that you thought about him. You were scared that maybe he could see your feelings, as if they were like a neon sign lit up in a window, the window protecting the piece of your heart that you hadn’t given to him. 

You felt anxious as you left work, time slipping away from you as you sent Brock a quick text, apologizing for being late, and that you’d be there soon. You walked down the streets of downtown Vancouver, holding your arms close to your chest to keep yourself warm from the late winter breeze as you headed toward the bar where you knew everyone was. 

Brock had been anxiously awaiting your arrival at the bar, knowing you were leaving a work meeting that had gone on a bit later than you anticipated. Most of his friends were there, mingling amongst each other in the dimly lit setting as they began celebrating Brock’s birthday, drinks freely flowing. He was waiting at the bar, saving a drink just for you for when you got there, knowing that you were the one he wanted to see. He watched carefully as he saw your figure come into view, you tucking your ID back into your bag and looking around for anyone you recognized. He was just about to raise his hand to try to get your attention when he saw you run into Quinn, instantly pulling him into a quick hug that Brock told himself he wasn’t allowed to be jealous over. 

“You should tell her.” Brock looked over at the voice, Elias walking into the bar to get a refill of his drink. Brock just watched as the bartender handed him a new drink, Petey bringing it up to his lips to take a sip. When Brock made no move to respond to his friend, Elias spoke up once more. 

“You should tell her how you feel.” He clarified, shifting his eyes slightly to where you were standing, just outside of earshot from where they were leaning against the dark wooden bar counter. Brock followed his gaze to where you were, looking at you. You must have just gotten there, your coat still wrapped tightly around your shoulders, cheeks, and nose slightly flushed from the strangely cold February night.

You were laughing at something that Quinn was saying, a genuine smile reaching your eyes. He would do anything to be the one to make you smile all of the time, harboring feelings that no one should have for someone who was supposed to be just a friend. If he really thought about it, he could rationalize that maybe you felt the same way, that the lingering looks you gave him as he told you about something important to him, the lines crossed after nights out where you’d wake up in his bed with your legs entangled together, all were indications that you wanted him in all of the ways he wanted you. 

He was about to deny it, words tumbling out along the lines of “We’re just friends” to Petey that he had said so many times before, unsure of who he was trying to convince at this point. But before he could stop looking, you turned, catching his gaze, and offered him a small smile. The moment was quick as you turned your attention back to what Quinn was saying, but Brock was mesmerized by the small upturn of your lips. 

“Brock.” Petey tried, looking at his friend who was so hopelessly in love with you that it didn’t even surprise anyone anymore. Brock pulled the cap from his head, running his hand through his blonde hair before putting it back on, trying to shake off the moment that had just happened. 

“There’s nothing to tell, we’re just friends.” He laughed, desperately trying to believe it himself. It was so much easier if you truly were just friends, and if he had to repeat that statement a million times for it to be true, and for him to forget about the feelings he had for you, he would. He couldn’t lose you, and if that meant mentally locking up his heart when it came to you, that’s something he was willing to do. 

“You two are something else.” Petey shrugged, leaving the counter with his drink. Brock quickly finished his vodka-soda, nodding to the bartender for a refill. He felt the alcohol starting to take effect on his body, watching as you slowly work your way through the crowd of his teammates toward him, stopping and saying hello as you passed by. 

“Hey, birthday boy.” You smiled, walking right into Brock’s open arms. He hugged you close, resting his chin on your head for a moment before leaning back to grab you a drink. The bar in downtown Vancouver was busy even by a Friday night standard. The season had somehow worked out in Brock’s favor that year, with only a practice scheduled the morning of his birthday, and a day off the day after. He held you close for a moment, taking in the scent of your perfume and the presence of your body wrapped in his. He was already a few drinks in, feelings for you bubbling up to the surface from the haziness of the alcohol. 

He handed you a vodka soda, letting his eyes scan your body quickly. You were wearing black booties and a pair of black skinny jeans that hugged your hips nicely. You had a navy blue sweater on, the dainty gold necklace that you always wore peeking through the collar. You had just come from work, not having time to change before heading to the party everyone was having for Brock’s birthday. You smiled at your best friend, chuckling slightly to yourself as you saw how hazy his eyes were from the drinks. 

“Got you something, Boes.” you said, digging into your bag to pull out a small box, wrapped in blue paper. Brock looked from your eyes to the box, smiling widely as he slipped it from your fingers. 

“A present? From my favorite girl?” He said, grinning widely. You felt a blush rise to your cheeks as he pulled you into his arms, pressing a sloppy drunk kiss to your temple, something that was a bit more than friendly and had your mind racing. Your skin feeling hot from his touch, even through your sweater, your silly little crush on your friend rising to the surface from his overly affectionate tipsy actions. 

“Open it!” You beamed, taking a long sip of your drink. Brock quickly unwrapped the box, the curve of his lips tilting upwards as he looked inside. 

“These are amazing, I love them.” He said, looking at the silver cufflinks you got him, engraved with a small outline of Coolie on each one. You thought the idea was kind of silly when you bounced it around with Petey, him reassuring you that this was exactly the type of sentimental but useful gift that Brock would love. Brock pulled you into another hug, letting his arm linger on your body as people started filtering through to wish him a happy birthday. You let your guard down, drinking arguably too much with your best friend, your head spinning faster each time his hands lingered on your body.

“Are you coming back to my place?” He asked, smiling once again at you. You nodded, curling your body back into his arm, that was loosely hanging over your shoulder. His breath was hot on your ear as he smiled wide at your wordless answer. You felt butterflies at the question that was only loaded in your head and going with a surge of bravery you reached up and laced your fingers through his, a move that earned you another soft kiss to your temple, and Brock’s sparkling drunk eyes looking at you fondly. You both ignored the looks from the others as you left the bar like that, hand in hand walking back to his condo, drunken giggles, and incoherent secrets spilled between you.

The walk back to the familiar building was quick and one you had taken many times before moving out, fond memories of nights out with Brock entering your mind as you stepped into the lobby. 

“It’s still weird coming back here and not going into my place.” You said, walking into the elevator Brock trailing behind you, hand still laced tightly in yours. He pulled you flush against his chest, facing the mirror on the back of the elevator, looking at himself holding you, something he never wanted to stop doing. 

“I miss just walking over to your place in the middle of the night.” He frowned, remembering the day you moved out. 

“Mmm, me too babe, me too,” you mumbled into his jacket, the pet name slipping from your lips before you could reel it back in. Brock finally let go of you when the elevator doors opened, following your lead as you walked toward his front door. He fumbled with his keys as he heard his dog running toward the door at the sound of you and him waiting outside. When he slid the key in the lock, you pushed the door open, drunken giggles and Coolie’s whining filling the silence. 

“Coolie, my favorite boy!” You said, tumbling into Brock’s condo, getting down on the floor to allow his dog to jump all over you in excitement. Brock laughed, walking into the kitchen and pulling out two glasses from the cupboard, filling each one with water. He came around the counter, reaching a hand down to help you up to your feet, you crashing into his chest, giggling. 

You took the glass of water from the counter, drinking it slowly as you walked toward Brock’s bedroom, entering his closet to pull out a shirt for yourself to sleep in for the night. It didn’t even phase Brock how you walked around as if you lived there, because deep down he spent a lot of nights thinking about it. Whenever he was on a roadie, he knew you were there, watching his dog, sleeping in his bed, and it drove him crazy. 

“Have I ever told you how much I love your bed?” You groaned, plopping yourself on top of the bed, crawling underneath the covers. Brock laughed in return, tossing his shirt to the floor and getting in next to you. He pulled you into his chest, the atmosphere in the room shifting to something more serious. You tried to focus on his face and the way he was looking at you, but all you could feel was your heart beating in your ears as his fingers danced softly along the top of your hip, sliding his shirt that was draped on your body just enough to show skin. You needed to do something to break the silence, to pull his stare away from you before you did something that you might regret.

“Did you have a good birthday?” You whispered, hoping that he couldn’t hear the steady thumping in your chest. Brock smiled again, his whole facial expression getting softer the more he looked at you. 

“The best.” He whispered back, leaning in and pressing the softest of kisses to the corner of your mouth, lips almost touching yours. Your breath caught in your throat, the moment passing as quickly as he did it. Brock tightened his arm around you, leaning his head into your shoulder. You lay frozen there, with Brock draped over your body as you struggled to breathe. Brock’s almost kiss sending you into a spiral of thoughts, instantly making your heart race. It wasn’t until you felt his hot breath on your neck, and heard his snores in your ear that you were able to calm down enough, drifting to sleep, neither of you remembering or mentioning the almost kiss by the time you woke up.    

The next morning, your eyes felt heavy, your head pounding as you tried to block out the sun coming in from Brock’s windows, the floor to ceiling windows normally offering your favorite view of the city shining sunlight that was far too bright for anyone who had that much to drink the night before to deal with. You groaned, feeling Brock’s arm wrapped securely around your waist, no memory of how you got into this position with him from the night before. 

“Brock.” You shifted, trying to move out from under his arm. He groaned in response, pulling you even closer into his chest. You were overwhelmed by the situation you were in, Brock’s legs entangled with yours, his arm sprawled over your middle, his head in the crook of your neck. You felt more vulnerable with each thump of your quickening heartbeat, holding your breath while you pieced together the night before. You and Brock had slept in the same bed before, you were adults and friends. Sometimes after a night out, the two of you would stumble drunkenly back to his condo, wordlessly sinking into his bed together to sleep off whatever the drinks of choice were for the occasion. This felt different, you’d never woken up completely consumed by him, your bodies close together. It felt too intimate for your relationship, his arms too closely holding your body, his lips mere centimeters away from peppering light kisses into your neck. 

You found yourself daydreaming about what it would be like to wake up like this every morning, feeling secure and content in Brock’s arms. You could easily picture a slow morning where you’re woken up in the late morning to soft kisses, running your hands through his hair while you come close together. It wasn’t that far off from where you were now with him, only you couldn’t just wake him up and kiss him, and the realization sent you spiraling into your own heart with feelings you had so desperately tried to keep at bay for months. You needed space, you needed to get out of his grasp and forget about how good it felt to be with him, even if it was only for a moment of consciousness. 

“Brock.” You said more firmly this time, you shook his arm slightly and he seemed to realize what was going on. His eyes fluttered open and for a moment he looked at you, there in his arms and it was the best feeling he had experienced in a long time. Something so simple as being wrapped up in you sent him over the edge, tumbling through his feelings like a boat on rocky water. 

He pulled himself from you, running a hand through his hair as he watched you get out of his bed, eyes lingering down your body. His heart was pounding, and his mind racing as you stretched slowly in front of him, his t-shirt you had borrowed from the night before riding up your thighs slightly. He let himself imagine for a moment what it would be like to pull you back into bed, fingers laced together while you’re underneath him, needing only each other. 

“Fuck.” he cursed, trying to rid himself of the image he created. 

“What?” You laughed, turning to look at Brock. He had a hand stretched out over his face as he groaned.

“Just a headache, one too many vodka sodas.” He joked, sliding his hand through his hair before smiling at you. You smiled back, your eyes soft as you focus on him. It felt like something more, the way you looked at him. 

“Well, Boes, I’m starving, think I need some of your famous eggs.” You grin at him, the moment passing just as quickly as it began.  

---------

Brock steps onto the ice, knocking over a few pucks that are stacked up on the bench next to the tunnel before beginning his usual warm-up lap. It’s game one of the first round of playoffs, the Canucks entering as the wild-card this year. He was absolutely buzzing with nerves for the first game, the energy in Rogers Arena already different than it was for normal home games. 

It was still early, but the arena was already filling up with fans. 

He was focusing on his pregame rituals, but still taking his time to read the signs that kids had taken the time to write, stopping every so often to toss a puck in their direction. He took glances over at the other end of the ice, where the San Jose Sharks were warming up for the game, flashes of video of their games running through his head as he focussed on getting mentally checked into the game. 

He was pleasantly surprised when he skated by and sees you behind the player’s bench a few minutes into warmups, pre-game nerves for the playoffs settling in, but somehow slowly evaporating when he realizes you're there. You’re smiling brightly at him, offering a small nod as he noticed you. He quickly glances toward the young girl next to you, holding your hand. Brock quickly picked up a puck on his stick, bouncing it around before catching it in his right hand. He mouthed something to you that you didn’t quite catch, but before you could ask he was tossing the puck in your direction. You caught it, watching Brock as he smiled at your niece and waved. 

“Is that the one?” Your sister-in-law teased as you reached down, and handed the puck to your five-year-old niece. You sighed, knowing exactly where she was headed with this conversation.

“We’re just friends.” You tried, not knowing who you were trying to convince more at this point. Your crush on Brock had developed into full-on feelings, and sometimes you were almost sure that he could sense the way you reacted to him. You hadn’t admitted your feelings to anyone, hoping that if you kept them guarded close to your chest that you would eventually move on and stop daydreaming about your best friend. But it seemed like almost everyone was onto your scheme, poking fun at your dynamic with each other every chance they got. No matter how many times it happened, you couldn’t help but feel a slight pinch in your chest each time Brock brushed off their comments. Your heart sinking every time he laughed the words,

“We’re just friends.” To someone. 

Holly came down after warmups, just before the game was set to start, a smirk present on your face as she held her hands behind her back. 

“Okay, what’s that face for?” You rolled your eyes, knowing Holly it could be anything. She pulled her hands in front of her to reveal a denim jacket resembling her own. You looked at it, noticing Boeser clearly written on the back, details surrounding his name of things you knew and loved about him. One thing that caught your eye, was the small patch on the top right corner, just where one of the seams aligned with the shoulder. You widened your eyes at your small initials embroidered into the corner. 

“Well, what do you think?” She smiled brightly handing the jacket to your shaking hands. You didn't know what to think. You weren’t Brock’s girlfriend, Holly knew this. Holly also knew about your long harbored crush for him, feelings that had been spinning out of control lately, a wag jacket doing nothing to help them go away. 

Your sister in law looked at you, a knowing smirk evident on her face as she bounced your niece in her lap.

“Holly…” You trailed off, unsure of if it was even appropriate for you to be wearing something like this, endless questions racing through your mind, wondering if Brock even knew about this, and worse, if he did, what would he say. You ran your fingers over the stitching on the jacket, letting your heart think for just a moment about what it would be like to wear this if you were actually his girlfriend. 

“Well, put it on. I want to see.” you sighed at her demand, stomach filling with nerves as you placed the jacket over your sweater, the fit perfect on your frame. You felt like people were staring, it was obvious what that jacket symbolized and even most casual fans knew who Holly was, being that her husband was the captain of the team. The last thing you wanted to do was end up all over Twitter as “Brock Boeser’s girl spotted” or something like that. Not only would it be embarrassing, but your feelings were already growing stronger, like ivy settling into a trellis, weaving its way through the spaces while the beautiful leaves slip out, and you didn’t need those leaves present to the entirety of hockey Twitter right before an important series for Brock. 

“God, he’s going to have a heart attack when he sees you. Poor guy probably won’t make it.” She said, taking a sip of her drink and settling down into the seat, the other girls slowly started to fill the friends and family section down by the ice. You felt exposed, standing there in a matching jacket knowing that so many of the girls knew you weren’t Brock’s girlfriend.

“Wait, he doesn’t know?” You exclaimed, making a move to slide the jacket off of your shoulders, embarrassment clouding your judgment, and turning your cheeks a bright color as you felt the temperature of the arena shift. The lights began to dim and the Canucks opening graphics started to appear on the ice, you instantly shrugging back into your seat when you saw Brock skate out with the rest of the opening lineup, eyes searching the crowd for you as he stood there next to his linemates. He offered a small smile toward you, nodding slightly before focussing his attention back on the ice as you waited for the anthems to start. You tried to ignore the way the jacket felt on your body the rest of the game, ignoring how the meaning of wearing it felt as time progressed.  

It was late in the third when Brock scored a goal, pulling the team ahead 2-1. You jumped up and cheered loudly along with the girls as he skated right up to the glass in front of you with his linemates. When the celebration broke and he skated along the bench, bumping fists with his teammates, he looked at you the entire time, smiling brightly. He didn’t notice the jacket, too focussed on your smiling face, and the momentum shift as his goal pushed the Canucks in the lead as he skated by, the goal ending up as the game-winner for the opening night of the first-round series against the Sharks. 

You shuffled out of the stands, saying goodnight to your sister-in-law and niece before following Holly down to the tunnels, a text from Brock burning a hole into your hand as you read it. 

Wait for me? It read. 

The words twisting in your mind as you tried to decipher what they meant. It could be nothing, but you couldn’t help but feel a shift in the air as you wore his last name on your back, standing amongst all of the other wives and girlfriends. You tried to push the feelings down, shoving them back into the box whose wood was splintering more and more lately, feelings for Brock tumbling out of the cracks. You couldn’t even deny it anymore, you liked him, and it terrified you in a way that you couldn’t explain, and wearing his name on your back was doing nothing to help you push the problem away.  

You tapped your foot anxiously as you stood around with the rest of the girls waiting for him. You felt a bit out of place, being there among all of the wives and girlfriends, but Holly had stuck by your side, welcoming you with open arms, and a big surprise that you were now wearing. 

The denim jacket hung loosely over your shoulders, Boeser embossed on the back, the number 6 stitched on the right arm. You felt a bit strange about it at first, not wanting to cross another boundary with Brock, the lines seemingly becoming blurrier and blurrier as the last few months wound down. You told yourself it was just playoffs, this was standard, and you knew Brock wasn’t seeing anyone, in fact, as far as you knew, he hadn’t been talking to anyone for months. You tried your best to ignore what that meant, to tell yourself it was just a coincidence that the two of you had started spending even more time together. 

Brock exited the locker room, his hair was still slightly damp from the shower, his navy blue suit back on his body. He was riding a post game-high, and the feelings only escalated when he saw you standing off to the side. Your bag was draped across your arm, foot lightly tapping on the ground as your eyes looked around the hallway. His breath came to a stop when he realized what you were wearing. 

Draped over your shoulders was a light wash denim jacket, one that he instantly recognized as the infamous wag jackets. His eyes darkened as he scanned your body, gaze lingering on the number 6 on your right arm, his number. He took the final steps toward you, wrapping your body into his as you realized it was him there to greet you. 

You looked up at him, instinctively tossing a hand up to his slightly damp hair, his arm wrapped around your waist as he hugged you. 

“That’s a nice jacket.” He said, leaning his head in, resting his forehead against yours, causing your cheeks to flush and your heart to rapidly beat in your chest. You didn’t know what he was doing, but something about the darkness of his eyes, and the softness of his voice removed you from where you were. All you could focus on was him, not the tunnel, not the other players and wags shuffling out of the arena, it was just you and Brock.  

“Yeah? Thought I’d represent my favorite guy.” You whispered, leaning in ever so slightly, shaking with nerves and hoping that you weren’t misreading the situation. This was it, Brock was finally going to kiss you, and you weren’t entertaining any of your head’s thoughts of stopping it. 

“I’d hope that’s my last name on the back.” He said, the tone of his voice lower, eyes reflecting something darker that you hadn’t seen before. Your cheeks were probably red by now, your heart was beating in your throat, and butterflies were swirling deep in your stomach as you both leaned in. The moment was agonizingly slow. You felt your eyes flutter shut, preparing yourself for a kiss that you had spent months waiting to happen. 

“Boes! You forgot this!” Jake yelled, and Brock pulled away from you quickly, recovering instantly as if the moment never happened. Your heart sank, and your stomach filled with another emotion, one that you tried to avoid thinking about as you hung the jacket up in your closet later that night, coming to the realization that he didn’t want to kiss you, rather he must have just been caught up in the moment. 

Neither of you mentioned the almost kiss, instead it was added to the overstuffed box of moments that you swore he felt what you were feeling, only to be locked away collecting dust as you waited for a kiss that at this point you were beginning to feel like would never come.    

The Canucks unfortunately were knocked out of the first round, your heart aching as you watched the final seconds of the sixth game on tv, knowing that Brock was probably beating himself up over the missed breakaway chance from earlier in the period that would have tied it and sent it to overtime. You watched sadly as the Canucks skated off the ice, seeing Brock with his head down as he left quickly. 

Your heart ached for him and the rest of the team, knowing how hard they had worked to get to that spot only to be eliminated so early on. You opened up your text thread with him, fingers hovering over the keyboard as you questioned how to offer your support when he most likely didn’t even want that right now. Before you could come up with some attempt at empathy for what he was feeling, your phone buzzed in your hand, his name flashing on the screen indicating a text.

“Going to try to sleep off the bad mood, we land at 8:30 tomorrow.” The text read. You just sent three blue heart emojis back, not knowing what to say, wishing that you could comfort him but knowing that he just wanted to be left alone. You couldn’t pretend that it didn’t sting. You wanted to be the person he went to for everything, and while you knew you were practically that person already, him not opening up to you now had you feeling like it was a reassurance that he didn’t feel the same. Your brain is trying to convince you that if he did have feelings, he would want to talk to you. 

The official end of the season also meant that you knew your time with Brock was dwindling down as he prepared to go back to his hometown for the summer, something you were selfishly dreading. Going a few days without Brock usually felt too long, and you selfishly didn’t know how you’d handle not being able to see him every day. With how close you had grown in the months since meeting him, and how wrapped up in him you had somehow let yourself fall, you couldn’t imagine what this summer would be like with him gone. 

Brock got back into Vancouver the next morning, coffee and pastries in hand as he came into his condo, relaxing as soon as he saw you and Coolie curled up on the couch. You were wrapped in the throw blanket, head leaning awkwardly on the back of the couch with Coolie curled up next to you. Your favorite show was softly playing on the TV in the background, a now cold cup of tea sitting on the coffee table in front of you. 

He went into his room, dropping his bags near the closet and grabbing some fresh sweats and a shirt to wear, Coolie noticing and jumping off the couch to follow him. He reached down, greeting his dog with affection before walking back out to the living room. He slipped onto the couch next to you, pulling the blankets over enough to cover himself, nudging you softly until your eyes fluttered open to meet his. 

“You’re back.” You said, voice slightly groggy from sleeping. Brock reached up and put his arm around you, motioning you to lay down on his lap. You smiled, curling yourself into him and adjusting your position so that you were able to lay on his lap. His arm adjusted, resting over your stomach, his hand just close enough to yours that you almost reached up and threaded your fingers through his. His other hand softly playing with your hair, actions feeling like they were blurring a line to the point of almost crossing it, but not taking the final step. 

He didn’t say anything in return, instead looking down at you with a smile. You could tell he was upset, the reality of the season-ending finally kicking in now that he was home. But he made no move or indication that he was wanting to discuss it, probably earning an earful from the coach anyways. Instead, the two of you settled into the spot there, your show playing on the tv with both of your minds drifting to each other, wondering if the quickening paces of your hearts were normal or just an illusion of the feelings unspoken between you.   

A few hours later, you found yourself in a different position, your feet were feet propped up into his lap, one of his hands was resting securely on one of your shins as he scrolled through his phone with the other. It was quiet, the two of you finally up and awake from the nap you took together when he came back, and you knew the inevitable talk of him leaving was coming. 

You didn’t want to talk about it, and if you had your way, Brock would be staying in Vancouver this summer with you. But, you weren’t his girlfriend, and it was unreasonable to allow your mind to drift to that place, no matter how many times you thought to yourself that he must feel the same, only to be let down by nothing ever-progressing past friendship between you. 

You didn’t know how much longer you could handle it, the underlying feelings every time his skin touched yours, the times where it felt like he was so close to finally kissing you, only to pull back and stop himself. You didn’t know what to do, your heart and mind battling back and forth with your mind begging you to distance yourself, trying to tell you that it was good he would be gone for a few months, and your heart telling you to keep as close to him as possible. 

“So, when are you going home?” Your voice broke the silence. You spoke quietly, trying to hide the hint of sadness in your voice at the idea of him leaving. Brock looked up from his phone, locking it and setting it down on the coffee table before he squeezed your shin reassuringly. 

“Well, I wanted to talk to you about that.” He started with a hint of nervousness in his voice. You leaned up, propping yourself up on the pillows to look at him, nodding at him to continue. 

“Do you want to come home with me?” His question startled you and sent your mind slipping down a runway that you didn’t understand. The question felt loaded yet natural at the same time. Going home with him meant meeting his family, spending time with the people he cared the most about, and you didn’t know how to process what exactly he was asking of you. 

You were just Brock’s friend, what would his family assume when he brought you home? Did they know about you? The questions were circling in your mind, causing you to freeze for a moment before being able to answer his question. 

“Brock, what do you mean?” you asked. 

“I know the last couple of months have been hard, with graduation and your job winding down, and I also know that I can’t imagine spending months away from you. I thought it would be nice to show you where I’m from, get you away from the city for a bit. You’d love it there.” Your heart fluttered at his words, overtaking every inner thought that your mind was screaming at you. Your head was telling you to say no, that this was most definitely a clear boundary that shouldn’t be crossed. But your heart was running through every red light, every traffic signal placed there by your head, telling you to turn around and stay in Vancouver. 

You placed your hand over his and he instinctively flipped his hand over and threaded his fingers into yours. It was a small gesture, but one that sent your heart into absolute overdrive, killing off any willpower that your head was trying to preserve. 

“I’d love to.” You answered, leaving your hand entangled with his for a moment as you watched his smile grow, a weight seemingly lifting from his shoulders. He looked happy, and you would have done anything to make him happy. 

---------

Spending time with Brock in Minnesota was something that you didn’t know you needed. You felt like you were seeing a different side of him, one that you knew was there but that you hadn’t had the privilege to see before. He was more at ease around his family, always in a relaxed state of mind no matter what was going on around him. 

You watched him with his dad, sitting out on the dock next to one another. The hot sun casting a beautiful sheen onto the lake water outback. Brock’s hair was getting lighter, his skin getting tanner with each passing week, and you found yourself falling even more in love with him than you already were. Watching him with his family changed something in you, you knew you had feelings before, but for the first time since discovering them, you wanted to do something about it. 

There had been so many instances since being in Minnesota where you’d be there with Brock, so close to leaning in and finally crossing that boundary, showing him how you felt. But something stopped you every time, fear. 

You continued looking out at the dock, watching as Brock sat with his dad. You loved this side of Brock, seeing him so at ease with one of the people that mattered most to him. You knew Brock was happy in Vancouver, and that he was working hard on contract negotiations to stay, but Brock in his hometown was a different side of him, one that you felt privileged to be able to see.  

Your eyes lingered on the sky, bright stars filling the vast dark space, the moon illuminating a reflection against the water as you laid next to Brock on the small boat. Your head comfortably resting on his chest, his arm around your shoulders. It was another shift in closeness with him that had occurred over the short week you had been in Minnesota. Something between you had changed, and despite knowing everything you thought you could know about Brock, you found yourself wanting to know more. Each touch sends you closer to admitting your own feelings to him out loud, only to stop yourself short by the worry of losing the best thing in your life that you had. 

“He’s happy you’re here, you know?” His mom’s voice startled you, her stepping onto the patio where you were, taking a seat at the small table outback, a drink in her hand. You looked at her curiously, replaying the words over in your head. Something about her tone had you feeling like there was more weight to them. 

“I’m happy too.” You smiled, trying to keep your composure. It wasn’t that his family made you nervous, but you wanted to keep having a good impression on them because they were important to Brock.  

“You can tell him, he feels the same way.” Her voice was distant, ringing in your ear as the words hit you like a force of air rushing through your lungs. You watched as she looked over at her husband and son, smiling softly, before looking back to you. You were frozen in time, hand firmly on your glass as you circled through her words in your head, dancing around the idea of taking them to heart. 

“Just something to consider.” She said, standing back up and walking inside, leaving you to your thoughts. 

You felt something bubbling up to the surface, feelings that you had tried for so long to keep in a box tucked away. Albeit, you were doing a poor job as of late, but something about what his mom said to you had you thinking about it, taking the chance on Brock, something you’d been telling yourself you don’t need to do for longer than you could remember. You were terrified, even if he did feel the same, that it wouldn’t work. It wouldn’t work out and you’d be left alone, in a city that you grew to love because of his company, shattered while you were left to pick up the pieces alone. But you also knew that you couldn’t keep going the way that you had, the two of you dancing around something that had been seemingly so obvious for so long, mere inches from one of you taking the plunge. 

Brock caught your eye from across the yard, a gorgeous smile on his face as he made eye contact with you, eyes squinting slightly from the sun, skin glowing. Something about the way that he looked at you at that moment had everything come crashing to a head for you, and you knew his mom was telling the truth. You knew Brock was just as in love with you as you were with him, and maybe if you let your guard down long enough, your own fears would be powerless to stop it.  

A few hours later you found yourself outside with Brock, the two of you in a comfortable silence as the pinks and oranges flashed through the sky, the sun beginning to set and moon beginning to rise. You had been thinking about what his mom said to you all day, about him feeling the way you felt, willing yourself to just reach out and take his hand, lacing your fingers together like you had done so many times before, only this time the meaning would be more. 

Brock stood up, his sudden movement startling you from your thoughts as he reached his hand out for yours. For a moment, you wondered if he was in your head, taking the leap that you had been wavering back and forth over for quite some time now. 

“Come on, I wanna take you on the water.” He said. You tentatively reached out and placed your hand in his, allowing him to pull you up as he threaded your fingers together leading you toward the small boat that was at the dock. He helped guide you over the ledge, using his hands to steady your hips when the boat lurched underneath your legs as you climbed on. You looked around, noticing the pile of pillows and blankets scattered on the floor of the boat deck, a bottle of your favorite wine visible. 

Brock kept his hands steady on your hips for a few seconds as you adjusted to the movement of the water, your eyes curiously wandering around the small scene he had set up, fully intending to take you out for a nice sunset ride on the water. 

“What’s all this?” You asked, feeling your stomach begin to fill with butterflies that Brock had given you so many times up until this point. He just looked at you, a fond smile present on his face while he reached his hand up from your hip, slowly guiding it toward the back of your neck to cradle your head in his hand. You thought, once again that this would be the moment where he would finally kiss you, but instead, you felt his lips touch your forehead, and your thoughts of doubt creep back in. You tried to ignore the sinking feeling in your chest as he let your body go, motioning for you to sit down as he got the boat away from the dock, the sun setting in the distance. 

The whole time spent navigating to the middle of the lake was quiet but comfortable. You sipping on wine, and Brock steering the boat, sun continuing to set. He had a serious look on his face, and from knowing Brock all of this time, you knew he brought you out here for a reason, one that you only hope would be something good. 

He dropped an anchor in the water, keeping the boat steady when he got to a place he liked. It was beautiful, the water of the lake a gorgeous deep blue, the dark trees casting shadows onto the water as the sun disappeared from the horizon, the moon taking its place in the night. Brock came over to where you were sitting, laying down next to you and watching the stars. He was quiet, deep in thought as you looked at him. 

“Brock,” you started. He turned to face you, leaning up slightly and opening his arms, a silent ask for you to lean into him. You laid down, resting your head onto his chest, on hand sprawled out on his stomach. He reacted quickly, one of his arms wrapping around you, holding you as close to him as possible, fingers pulling slightly on the ends of your hair. He pressed a soft kiss to your head, another action that sent your mind fluttering with worry as you waited for him to speak. The two of you resting in that position, holding each other while the night continued on. 

“I got an offer today.” Brock’s voice broke the silence, vibrating through his chest as he spoke, his hand absentmindedly playing with the tips of your hair. You knew what he was talking about, it was part of the reason you had come with him back home in the first place. Brock was up for a contract in Vancouver, something he desperately wanted, but he also knew that anything is possible in the league, and things can change quickly. You lifted your head up to look at him, pressing your hand into his chest for balance. 

“Where?” You asked, voice small. You didn’t want to let yourself think about what would happen if Brock left Vancouver, and you had managed to push the thought away for weeks. In your mind, Vancouver had to work out, and maybe that was selfish of you to think, but you didn’t care. You knew how much he loved the city and believed in that team, not to mention the friends he had. Moving somewhere would be devastating for him, and you didn’t know how to process what that could do to your friendship if it would even survive at all. 

“Nashville.” He hummed, threading his hand through your hair, resting on the back of your neck. A simple touch, one far too intimate for your supposed dynamic, but that sends chills down your spine. 

Your shoulders slumped as you went over what he just said, repeating Nashville in your head a few times, mentally calculating the distance, trying to justify hanging on when he would be almost half a world away. You felt your heart sink completely, silently closing the door to telling him how you felt that night, realizing that if he was leaving, maybe it wasn’t worth the risk at all.  

“Oh.” You said. Brock sighed, still holding on to your neck, looking you deep in the eyes. 

“I’m still waiting for Vancouver.” He smiled sadly. You looked at him for a moment, recognizing the tenderness in his eyes, the way he was so shakingly trying to keep his worries at bay, to protect you from the possibility that this was your last summer together. You laid your head back onto his chest, focussing your breathing to match his, listening to the steady beat of his heart while you laid there, mulling over the words tumbling through your head. 

“Brock?” You whispered, not daring to move. 

“Yeah?” 

“What happens if you leave? To us?” You tried to sound light, but the shakiness in your voice was difficult to disguise, the only noise surrounding you was the soft rocking of the water, and crickets chirping through the darkness. Brock tightened his arm around you, pulling you further into his chest. It was warm, secure, and for a moment you allowed yourself to drift into a headspace where this was more than it was. Brock was your best friend, but in that moment, you had never felt more sure that all of your feelings were reciprocated, the two of your heartbeats synched. 

“Nothing, no matter where I am, you’re too good for me to not be close to.” You tipped your head up at his words, faces mere inches apart. 

“Do you mean that?” You whispered, already knowing it was the truth. Brock never was dishonest, he wore his heart on his sleeve and proudly carried around the scars that people who didn’t deserve him left. He gently raised his hand to your cheek, offering a reassurance you needed in his expression, eyes connected with yours. 

“Always.” 

You instinctively reached up, threading a hand through his blonde hair. The two of you looked at each other for a moment, your eyes glancing down to his lips. The moment is frozen in time, nothing but the late-night cool breeze passing over your skin, raising goosebumps on your arms, but the only sensation you could feel was your heartbeat in your throat, willing you to take the chance. It was now or never, you thought, needing to show him how you felt, how badly you couldn’t handle it if he went to Nashville, leaving you alone in Vancouver without him by your side. 

Without processing your next move, or allowing yourself to stop, you leaned up and pulled his head down to meet yours, pressing your lips softly to his for the first time. Brock reacted quickly, leaning further into the kiss, moving his lips against yours. Your mind was on overdrive, and your stomach in knots. You had wanted to kiss Brock since the day you tumbled into his apartment, fresh cookies from your infamous stress baking sessions. But somewhere along the way, he became your best friend, and while the thoughts of kissing him never went away, you locked them into a box tucked deep in the cavities of your heart, in hopes that it would protect you from losing him. By kissing him you had taken an ax to the box, ripping it apart at the seams and allowing the feelings to escape, blind to the pressure that you would come to feel from it all in just hours time. 

You tugged on the ends of his hair, the kiss becoming deeper as he pulled you closer to him, every emotion you were both feeling tumbling out from the safe spaces it had been locked in. Brock slowly pulled back, eyes darkened as he looked at you, lips slightly pinker. He had never thought he would get the chance to kiss you, and now that he had, he didn’t think he could ever stop. But, he needed to know you wanted it too, that this wasn’t some fleeting caught up in the moment kiss. 

You smiled at him, a smile that he had seen so many times yet could never get enough of. You leaned in, pressing your lips to his jaw slowly, delicately as your fingers pulled through his hair. He could barely breathe, your lips igniting his skin. He needed to feel every inch of you. 

“Are you sure?” He hummed out, tilting your head up to look at him once more, a question holding more weight than either of you imagined would happen when heading out into the late summer night on that boat. 

“I need you.” was all you said, intently looking at the boy in front of you who had somehow become everything. Brock kissed you quickly, a fire in his eyes and heart that only could be contained by you. You deepened the kiss as he slowly leaned your body back, rolling himself to hover over you. Your hands ran up his chest, settling back into his hair. One of his hands firmly pressed into the dock, steadying himself as his other snaked under the sweatshirt of his you had on, settling on your bare skin just above your hip.

Your breathing started to get heavier as his lips left yours, trailing softly down your neck and collar bones. His hands slowly sliding up your sides, resting just below the line of your bra. He pulled back slightly to look at you, admiring once again how beautiful he thought that you were. You knew what he was going to ask next, Brock was always the type to need clear consent before doing anything. You reached a hand up to his cheek, lifting your head to press your lips to his softly once more.

“It’s okay, you can keep going.” You smiled, thankful for the only light being the moon so that he couldn’t see your flushed cheeks. Brock pulled his hand from your sweatshirt, reaching up to grab yours in his, lacing your fingers together and pressing a soft kiss to the back of your hand, a move that sent butterflies into your stomach.

“Are you sure?” He needed to hear you say it, he needed to make sure this feeling was real, and that he wasn’t just imagining what was about to happen with you. You squeezed his hand softly, words firm as you spoke.

“I want you, Brock, all of you.” He took his time, hands gently peeling the clothes off your body, reassuring kisses splattered all over your neck and chest. You leaned into him tugging softly on his hair while you felt his whole weight on top of you. Your mind was hazy, thinking of nothing but this moment with Brock, how good it felt to finally have him. 

He laced his fingers through yours, pinning your hands down as he slowly entered you, his body hovering above yours. Moans softly filling the air as the pace picks up, your bodies flush against one another as you irrevocably cross a line in your friendship in the darkness, stars floating brightly in the sky, the only illuminance reflected on the still water.

---------

Brock swore he imagined it, you kissing him the night before, the way his hand fit tightly in yours, the soft breaths you took underneath him. And when he woke up to the light shining through the curtains, and you curled up under his arm he worried for a moment he was still in the dream. He lay there, listening to the soft snores coming from your slightly parted lips, admiring how at peace you looked. It was only when he realized you were in only his shirt, a hint of red marks peeking out from the collar that he realized he hadn’t been in a hazy dream after all. It was real, you and him, it was all real and he was determined to make it last.

“Morning,” Brock mumbled, pressing a light kiss into your shoulder. You opened your eyes slowly, memories of the night before flashing through your mind. You curl your body into Brock’s, and he pulls his hand into yours, lacing your fingers together. Your mind was racing, every emotion running through you. Brock kept peppering kisses along your shoulder, something that was far more intimate than friends should be doing. This was what you always wanted with him. So why did it feel like you were standing in a forest, waiting for the tree to drop on top of you, knocking you out of the dream world that you must have been residing in. 

“Brock.” You whispered, daring yourself to break the silence. You felt your insides twisting, your stomach rumbling with nerves as you laid entwined with him. It didn’t feel real, and the longer you put off the inevitable conversation, the worse the heartbreak for you would be when he told you it didn’t mean anything or was a mistake. 

“Yeah, baby?” He said, lifting his head up from your shoulder. You shifted in his arms, detaching yourself from him and sitting up in the bed. You felt exposed, laying there with nothing but a thin linen sheet covering your body, knowing that you had slept with Brock not once, but twice the night before. You bit your lip, avoiding his eye as he sat up next to you, running his hand through his hair. 

Brock was nervous, you weren’t reacting how he assumed you would, and part of him wondered if last night was some fever dream. Something he imagined happening, but your naked bodies next to each other confirmed the reality of the position you two had put yourselves in. He wanted you, he wanted everything with you. He wanted to hold your hand all the time, kiss you whenever he wanted. He wanted to hold you while you cried and help wipe the tears away. He wanted to be yours and only yours, for as long as you’d have him, and the memories of your body entangled with his was pushing his heart to finally open up his heart fully to you, even if you already unknowingly held it in your hands. 

“So, last night…” you trailed off, gripping the sheet closer to your chest. You were feeling more anxious with each breath you took, heart, filling with regret of your own actions as you sat there next to Brock. He smiled at you softly, no indication that anything was wrong, and although that should have reassured you that it would all be fine, something about it made you more uneasy. You opened your mouth to speak, willing your brain to somehow come up with everything that your heart wanted to say, only no words came out. Brock sensed your uneasiness and tried to grab your hand. You pulled yourself further away, not wanting to push the boundaries that you bulldozed through the night before. 

“I think I’m in love with you.”

Brock’s words rang in your ear, echoing in your mind as you felt your breathing constrict as if you were underwater, gasping for a final breath of air to fill your lungs. You couldn’t speak, you couldn’t move, the words coming from his lips were so sincere, so heartfelt, and was what you thought you would want to feel in this situation. He watched you carefully, reading the signs of apprehension on your face, his heart pace quickening.

“I think I have been for a long time honestly, you just, you’re my best friend. But you’re more than that, you’re who I want to call in the middle of the night when I’m feeling down, you’re who I can’t wait to come home to after weeks away. You’re who I want next to me at every moment. I want to hold you all the time, comfort you when you’re sad, and celebrate with you when something good happens. God, you’re everything, you’re the most amazing person I’ve ever known.” He continued. He looked so happy, the weight of his words weighing heavily in the air, causing you to further sink into the bed, grasping on to the sheet like you were on the edge of a mountain, hanging on for dear life. You were biting your lip so hard, nearly drawing blood as he told you everything your heart wanted to hear. But it all felt wrong. 

“Brock, you don’t love me, we just-” you struggled to find the words, not wanting to hurt him even though you were caving into your own insecurities and fears. You weren’t sure what you were doing, letting your brain sabotage what your heart desperately wanted, images flooding your mind about the pressures of being Brock Boeser’s girlfriend, what it all meant, how it would change you. You wanted nothing more at that moment than to go back to the day before and return to pining over him from afar because it was easier. It was easier when you didn’t know what his lips felt like against yours when you didn’t know that he was in love with you.   

“I love you, and I want to be with you.” He said, his voice firm, eyes locked in yours. Brock was trying to hand you his heart, it was there, alive and beating in his hands and all you had to do was reach out and take it. All you had to do was say the three words back to him that you knew you had been feeling for years. But you couldn’t. 

“Brock, we can’t.” Was all you managed to get out, your head hung down in shame. You didn’t see how his face fell, because you didn’t let yourself. You told yourself this was for the best, that Brock deserved someone better than you. Brock deserved to be with someone who he could give the world to, who could be waiting for him no matter where he went, and someone who he would be proud to show to the world. You felt your throat closing up and tears pricking the corners of your eyes. You weren’t even strong enough to face him, knowing what you were doing to him. 

“Oh.” He said, turning his head to look at you. He felt like his world crashed right in front of him, the best thing he could ever have just out of the reach of his fingertips. A lingering taste from the one bite of you that he got to take. You were starting to cry, and for the first time in the years that he had known you, he was at a loss for how to help. Everything felt murky between you, the lines blurred together past the point of visibility, a comforting touch felt like too much now that he had opened his heart, unrequited.

He had thought this summer with you had been different, a shift in the trajectory of your friendship, built up feelings finally coming out into the open. You looked at him differently, glances lingering past the point of friendship, dancing along blindly in what he thought were reciprocated feelings. Brock was never good at reading the signs, but something in the way you gravitated to him over the past month disillusioned him into believing what he felt was mutual, that the sex the night before meant something more to you. He had never felt more sure of anything than he did as he kissed you, only to wake up the next morning and have you rip it all away. A dirty mistake that it seemed like you couldn’t wait to forget.   

---------

The first few weeks back home you spent locked away in your apartment, ignoring every phone call, every text, any attempt at contact that wasn’t Brock. You didn’t expect him to call, but you wholeheartedly wished he would, because if you could, you would take it all back. You knew that stepping onto that plane you were burning down the best bridge you had ever built, and now here you were, broken and battered, walking along the edge of steel beams as you tried to forge it back together. But you knew you couldn’t, that bridge was built by two sets of hands, not one. 

It took three weeks before Holly showed up at your door, baby in tow, demanding you get dressed and come with her. You did as she asked, carefully showering for the first time in days, putting on the slightest bit of makeup to attempt at hiding the dark puffy skin under your eyes, an indication of your lack of sleep since you returned to the city. 

Your head rested on the window as she drove you out of downtown and closer toward East Vancouver. You didn’t have to guess where she was taking you as the familiar scenery passed by. When she parked outside of your favorite brunch place, you sighed quietly, appreciative of her efforts even if you weren’t hungry. You waited patiently as she grabbed Gunnar, buckling him up into the stroller before walking into the restaurant. It was a small hole in the wall place, with an outdoor seating area with white metal awning, decorated in lights and ivy, and earthy atmosphere as strangers chatted away eating their breakfasts, mimosas steadily flowing. 

You sat down, listening to her catch you up on things with Bo and the baby, an obvious attempt at trying to distract you from your own thoughts. You appreciated her effort, you really did, but you weren’t ready to be outside of the safety of your apartment just yet. You nodded and hummed along as you listened to her talk, feeling nauseous once your food was placed in front of you. Your mind drifting back to the time you took Brock here, and the two of you got drunk on a Sunday from mimosas, having to walk around the neighborhood for hours before sobering up completely enough to drive back home. 

“Okay, something happened with Brock. I’ve gathered that much, and I’m worried about you. Talk to me.” She finally tried, a reassuring look on her face. You didn’t know if she knew the whole story, if Brock had told anyone what happened, you had to guess that he was feeling bad enough to contact Bo about it, you had really messed him up. You slipped into the story, telling Holly about how you felt, and how you hurt the best person to have ever been in your life, tears settling into your eyes, threatening to spill out as you reopened the painful wound, still fresh from the weeks before. 

“I don’t know how to fix it.” You whispered to Holly, looking down at the table setting in front of you. You twirled the fork in between your fingers, food remaining untouched on your plate as you sat in the restaurant with Holly. She sighed and shook her head softly at you. You could tell by the purse of her lips and the look in her eye that she was preparing to tell you something that you likely wouldn’t want to hear. You were okay with that though because, at the end of it all, you were the one who hurt Brock. You left him in Minnesota, and while you wanted to fix it, you had to come to terms with the realization that some things are beyond repair.  

Holly set her fork down, leaning into the stroller that was sitting to the right of her. You watched as she picked up Gunnar, who was fussing. You hated that your mind instantly went to Brock. Knowing that if you hadn’t have let your fears outweigh what you felt in your heart, that he would have been it for you. You knew that. Deep down you knew that it was always supposed to be him. 

Brock poured his heart out to you that morning after in Minnesota, sharing the most vulnerable pieces of himself with you. All you gave him in return was nothing but lies, and the image of you packing your suitcase, going back to Vancouver without him. The worst part was that as soon as you stepped foot on that plane, you knew what you had done. You knew you had broken the only person you had ever loved, and you still didn’t stop yourself. 

It was like you were outside of your own body, watching as someone else sat on the tarmac, music softly playing in their headphones, head leaned against the airplane window. You left Minnesota as a different person, someone who was broken beyond belief, but it was at the hand of your own actions. 

Holly cleared her throat, bringing your head back into the moment. 

“Bo said he’s never seen him like this before and I don’t think he’ll see you, not right now.” She started, a solemn silence between you as she chose her next words carefully. You perked up at this, not knowing that Brock was back in Vancouver yet. You knew it had to be any day, with how training usually went for the team, but something about knowing he had returned and gone to Bo broke your heart even more, and you wondered if he found himself walking around the city as empty-hearted as you were.  

“You know I love you, right? You’re one of my best friends. But, what you did, If I were Brock I wouldn’t forgive you either.” It was harsh, and it stung hearing it come from her lips. But you knew she was right, and if you settled into a thought where Brock had done that to you, you probably wouldn’t give him a chance either. 

Your eyes welled up with tears. You avoided Holly’s gaze, bringing the sleeve of Brock’s sweatshirt that you were wearing up to wipe your eyes. It was the only thing of his you had managed to hang onto, something old from his rookie year, the 6 faded on the side, Boeser still clear on the back.  

“I know.” Were the only words you could seem to find, your heart feeling heavy in your chest.

“Look, Brock loves you, right? He’s so in love with you, he has been for a long time, and God knows his heart is way bigger than all of ours. Just, give him some time.” Holly said. You tried to take her words as hopeful, but you worried deep down that you were permanently destined to live a life without him, nothing but an old sweatshirt and memories of your time together. 

 Brock had been feeling like the air hadn’t returned to his lungs since you left all those weeks ago. He couldn’t stop replaying the scene in his head, rethinking over what he said if he could have changed your mind, but most importantly why he even told you how he felt at all. He knew it was a risk to lay every card he had on the metaphorical table in front of you, but after that night on the boat, he thought he knew you would feel the same. He thought he knew you, and that it would end with your hand in his for the foreseeable future. Instead, the cards blew up in the air, disillusioned by the words you spoke, words he believed because you wouldn’t lie to him. 

The worst part about it was that he wasn’t mad at you, how could he be? No person can help how they feel. A moment shared the night before, the lingering touches and your soft moans filling the room, didn’t mean to you what they did to him, and he could never have found it in his heart to be upset by that. But when you left that morning, he knew in his heart and mind that he couldn’t just go back to being friends with you. He couldn’t allow you to have any piece of him anymore, because all it did was confine his feelings back inside, shoved away for no one to experience but him. He was in love with you, and he didn’t know how to go back to being friends and make that go away. He didn’t know how to look at you without remembering how you felt beneath him, how complete he felt when his hands tangled in yours, lips exploring one another. 

Brock spent those last few weeks in Minnesota trying to piece together how his life would look without you. He became a bit of a recluse, spending most of his days out on the water with his dogs, unplugged from his phone and friends, only answering if it had something to do with work. He let himself go through the motions as if it were a breakup because, in a way, it was. Losing a friend, especially when it was you, hurt him in a way that most other losses hadn’t. 

You were there for him through every good or bad thing that had happened in his life since moving to Vancouver. Every win or loss, his injuries, every doubt he had as a rookie, every trade rumor, and every success. But it wasn’t just his career you had been there for, you were there through his life too. When he worried about his dad, you were the first person he would call. He smiled at the memories of you knocking on his door every time he felt anxious about his family, cookies, and wine in hand, ready to be the shoulder for him to cry on. You never questioned him or made him feel bad when he was upset. You just were you, and your comfort was all he needed to feel better. 

You were such a part of his routine that it took him almost two weeks to stop opening your contact in his phone, willing himself not to call you. He hated that his first instinct most mornings was to check in on you, to see how you were feeling after all of it. He grew resentful, but only at himself for his own emotions. The resentment melted into sadness as the time for him to go back to Vancouver grew closer. He didn’t know what would happen when he came back. For the first time in his career, he dreaded going back, not because he didn’t want to play, but because it meant being back in the city where every step he took reminded him of you. 

His condo felt different without your presence, and for the first time since you moved out of that building, he was grateful you no longer lived across the hall. He at least didn’t have to worry about seeing you in the elevator, or breaking his convictions and knocking on your door. 

He took his time settling back in, slowly gathering any lingering items of yours and carefully placing them into a box. He’d been through breakups before, but nothing compared to losing someone like you. When he had finally rid his apartment of your belongings, he taped the box shut and set it by the door, trying to forget about it. Sometimes Coolie would sniff it, probably recognizing your smell from the items inside. 

Brock settled into the couch, propping his feet up on the coffee table as he opened the container of takeout that Elias had brought over. He fiddled with the remote, opening up Netflix to queue up the latest episode of Gossip Girl. He patted the spot next to him on the couch, motioning for Coolie to jump up. When he did, he settled in next to Brock, on top of the grey throw blanket that was draped over the cushions.

Elias took his time in Brock’s kitchen, scanning the apartment and looking at his friend. He knew Brock was miserable, and as much as Petey loved you, his loyalties were here. He carried his takeout container in one hand, the smell of the Thai food from down the street wafting into the air, two beers in his other hand and he walked to his spot on Brock’s couch. He set the beer down on the table, glass beginning to frost from the sudden change in temperature. He leaned back, eyeing the box by the front door suspiciously. 

“What’s that?” He asked, pointing toward the object in question. Brock stiffened, glancing over where Petey was nodding toward. 

“It’s all her stuff.” he sighed, not wanting to get into the subject. Petey knew what happened, as far as Brock was concerned, they didn’t need to divulge into the details once more. What Brock needed was a distraction from all of it, and Petey was happy to be there for his friend, even finally agreeing to watch Gossip Girl, which Brock had been asking him to do for months. 

The pair sat on the couch in silence, eating and drinking while watching a few episodes of the show, before Petey left to return home, and Brock drifted into his bed. When he woke up the next morning, the box was gone. 

---------

It was mid-October, three months since that morning back at his home in Minnesota. The season had just started, and the rain was starting to settle into Vancouver, a grey sky covering the city most days. He found himself settling into the familiarity of life during the season, but it didn’t feel the same. He woke up most days feeling like there was a hole in his chest where his heart should be, mourning over a loss that he didn’t know how to comprehend. You were still there in his mind, and while over the last few months it had become less frequent, he still wasn’t able to go any substantial amount of time without thinking about you. 

He pulled his hood further onto his head as the rain started to come down harder. It was late morning on a rare day off. He was looking down at his phone as he pulled the door to the coffee shop open, the creaking from the worn-out wood filling the air. 

“Oh god, sorry!” A voice startled him, one that sent him spiraling down a highway of memories he had spent the last three months trying to forget. He knew it was you, the voice unmistakable. 

“Oh, uhm-” You started, and then cut yourself off. The two of you frozen there in the doorway, rain coming down. He hated every moment of this, an ache is his chest resurfacing harshly the longer time stood still with you in front of him. He looked at you, noticing that your hair was shorter, your eyes not quite as bright as they were before, a small frown settling on your features. You looked sad, and like you had been sad for a long time. 

Brock often wondered what it would be like to run into you again, after having not seen each other for months. He wondered if it would happen organically, a chance run-in like the situation he was in now, or if you would show up to some event, knowing that his friends were still yours. For the first time since everything happened, he felt a different emotion seeing you, his heart clouding his head with resentment for what you did, the anger at your actions finally bubbling through to the surface. 

You looked at Brock and saw a fragment of the boy you knew before, the one you ripped apart without a second thought, the one who invaded your dreams every night, haunting you of your past mistakes. You could have had a beautiful thing with Brock, and you let your fears overtake your mind and broke his heart in the process. You hadn’t spoken to Brock since the day you left, only hearing fragments about how he was from Holly when she was nice enough to share. She was the only one who would talk to you, the rest of your mutual friends cutting you out for what you did. You didn’t blame them, they were Brock’s family, not yours. But you couldn’t pretend that when Elias showed up with a box of your belongings, not uttering more than the words, “Brock wanted to give these back.” that your heart didn’t collapse with your body after you closed the door, letting the sobs overtake you. 

You never opened that box, not wanting to relive any of the memories trapped inside, lingering in the belongings you had left with him over the years, the gifts you had given him probably tossed haphazardly in. You knew it was what you deserved, even someone with as big of a heart as Brock couldn’t forgive you for what you did, and you had to live with the consequences of that. Instead, choosing to see him only in your dreams, or scattered around the city in memories. 

You knew living in the same area you risked the possibility of running into him again, especially since you two frequented the same places, the only difference now was that you did it alone. And while you thought about it, you never knew how it would make you feel to be in the same space as him again. It felt familiar, and almost every part of you longed to touch him, to reach out and push yourself into him and fix what you broke, but looking at him only confirmed the suspicions that you had that he wanted no part of your life anymore. 

You stood in the doorway of the old coffee shop unable to move, your coffee securely held in your hand as you took in his appearance. He looked tired, his beard had grown out more than it usually was, his eyes dull. Your heart ached to know that you caused this, that all Brock wanted was to give you the world and you ripped it out from under him.      

The moment only lasted a few seconds, with Brock turning his body away from you, no words escaping his lips as he continued into the shop, leaving you standing there on the sidewalk in the rain. Before the door shut completely, you opened it back up, figuring that if this was the only time you’d ever see him again, at least he would know that you were sorry. 

“Brock-” you tried, grabbing onto his arm. You winced softly as he shook it from your grasp, eyes cold as he looked at you. 

“I don’t have anything to say to you.” His voice was soft but harsh as he looked at you one last time, turning once again to leave you standing, stomach twisting, and eyes beginning to water. You’d never seen Brock so cold, and knowing you were the one that caused it broke you beyond belief. 

You went home that day, the image of his face as he walked away burning in your mind as you curled up in bed and let yourself cry over the boy you were still hopelessly in love with.  

Brock stood in that coffee shop for what felt like hours, agonizing over the small interaction before finally getting his coffee and leaving. He thought about it for the rest of the day, thinking of how different you looked, how you weren’t the same person he thought he knew inside and out. He thought about how maybe he was too harsh with you, seeing the broken look on your face when he said he didn’t want to talk, eyes filling with tears.  

Brock went out to his balcony, sitting on one of the chairs, a place where he often went when he needed to think. You had basically become an intruder in his mind, invading his thoughts when he desperately wanted you erased. All he could think about was the summer, your hair blowing with the breeze while you sang loudly along to the radio, driving through back roads in his hometown. You were like a time capsule he couldn’t seal, instead he saw visions of you in old photographs taken on a disposable camera dancing through his mind, one by one, each a memory of him falling more in love with you. But the thing about photographs is they fade, the ink turns a different color when exposed to heat, and his confession ended up being the heat that warped the photographs of you, turning them into nothing but what was supposed to be fond nostalgia of the girl he loved. 

He thought about you the rest of the week, living almost on autopilot as he shuffled himself from practice to games. His mind was so out of it, that he didn’t see a bad check coming from the Vegas player, sending his body curtailing toward the boards, head making contact with the ice as he fell. He managed to get up, limping back through the player tunnel to get looked at, every moment after that a blur. 

He wished it was only that night where his game was affected, but the symptoms followed through practice the next day. He wasn’t skating as fast, he was missing calls, and fumbling over drills that were normally second nature to him. His teammates and coaches all noticed, frustrated with his lack of ability to separate his personal life from the game, but also worried that his lack of focus was going to get him seriously hurt. 

Brock’s inability to disassociate from that short interaction was affecting his career, and when he spent the next game as a healthy scratch for the first time since playing in Vancouver, he was so broken that he couldn’t find the energy within himself to care. 

He shouldn’t have been surprised when Bo appeared at his front door, his six-month-old baby strapped to him, a hard but concerned look on his face as he let himself inside Brock’s condo. 

“Sure, come in,” Brock said harshly, wanting to be alone.

Bo looked around the room, walking into the kitchen to a scene he had never seen from Brock before. There were dishes piled in the sink, unopened mail piled up on the counter, empty take out bags piled up by the recycling bin. He sighed, unstrapping Gunnar from his chest and handing him to Brock. Brock reacted quickly, taking the baby boy into his arms and walking over to sit on the couch, holding him tightly to his chest. 

He distracted himself with the baby as Bo silently cleaned the kitchen. He was sitting there, letting Gunnar bite on his fingers while he waited for anything from his captain, bracing himself for what was likely to be a long conversation, especially now that Bo had taken it upon himself to clean up the mess Brock left, not bothering to do it himself. 

“You need to get your shit together,” Bo said, walking back over to the couch, wiping his hands on his jeans before holding his arms out, indicating he wanted his baby back. Brock handed over Gunnar, sighing softly as he ran a hand through his hair, unwashed for two days now. 

“And take a fucking shower, you look like shit.” He added, words harsh but true. Brock knew he was a mess, his beard growing out, hair slightly greasy, but he didn’t care. He didn’t have the energy to deal with his physical appearance, and he didn’t feel like it mattered, it’s not like he had anyone to impress lately anyways. He didn’t say anything, he just let his eyes follow his captain as he sat down with the baby. He cursed Bo for bringing Gunnar, knowing it was a calculated move to ease into what was going to be a serious conversation, he knew Brock loved babies, and that it would soften the harsh words that were probably moments from coming. 

“Look, you’re my friend above all else, I hate seeing you like this. But I’m also your captain, and it’s my job to keep your head focussed.” Bo started, Gunnar making soft noises while he spoke. Brock leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands, bracing himself for the confrontation. 

“I know.” Was all he managed in response. 

“Holly had brunch with her a few weeks ago, she’s a wreck, Brock.” Bo softly said, hating seeing two people that he cared about hurting like this. While he was frustrated with Brock as a captain, wanting better from his teammate, he also realized that maybe right now Brock needed him as his friend. 

Brock’s head shot up at that, hearing that Holly had seen you. Part of him felt a weird satisfaction that you were maybe just as messed up as he was, hurting over what happened still. Brock spent most of his time wondering why he seemingly wasn’t capable of getting over you, moving on, letting it all go. You didn’t feel the same way, and while he understood that, he didn’t understand why you left the way that you did, ripping apart the friendship that had been such a stable for both of you, or so he thought. But a small part of him, one that he wasn’t proud of, was feeling smug at the fact that you were likely not entangled with anyone else, that you were just as hurt as he was. Hearing that you were a wreck and not emotionless about it at least meant that you cared about him in some capacity, that maybe the friendship at least meant to you what it did to him before it all blew up in his face. 

“Oh?” Brock questioned, unsure of if he truly wanted to hear just how bad you were doing, already feeling the guilt bubbling in his chest from moments before, his mind flashing back to the look on your face as he harshly pulled away from you, the memory causing a dull ache in his chest.

“I’m not here to tell you how to live your life, but she misses you. A lot. Holly didn’t tell me everything, and I know I don’t know fully what happened, but it might be worth hearing her out.” Gunnar started crying, interrupting Bo for a few moments while he soothed his baby, Brock mulling over the words from his friend. 

Coolie came running out of the bedroom at the sound of Gunnar’s cries, a soft plush dog toy in his mouth as he jumped up to the couch, settling in near Bo and the baby, his tail slightly wagging, ready to make Gunnar feel better. Brock’s heart rate quickened, and he hated himself for his thoughts once again turning to you, an image of you holding a newborn, Coolie next to you on the couch as you rocked the baby to sleep. It scared him how you could hurt him so badly and yet he still imagined a whole life with you that would never happen because you didn’t feel the same. 

“I don’t think it’s that simple, Bo,” Brock said, slowly beginning to feel like he could open up to someone. He hadn’t shared with anyone the true details of what happened between you, he never mentioned the night on the boat, or the morning after, simply telling them that something happened in Minnesota and you left. 

“What happened? Why did she leave?” Bo tentatively asked, hoping that Brock felt okay enough to finally let someone in. 

Brock took a deep breath, launching himself slowly into telling Bo what really happened three months ago, opening the wound that had been haphazardly stitched up with blood seeping through the bandages ever since he got back to Vancouver. Bo listened intently, never interrupting as Brock stumbled through some parts of the memories, not commenting when Brock’s voice became thick, or when he let the tears escape from his eyes, finally freeing himself of this problem he had kept locked away for months. It hurt to recount the entire event, but Brock also felt like a weight was lifting from his body as he spoke, freeing himself from the loneliness of overanalyzing each action you took and the word you said. It felt good to let someone into the mess that was his mind. 

“You need to hear her out.” Was all that Bo responded with, a serious tone to his voice as he looked over at Brock cautiously, gauging what reaction might come from those words. Brock’s eyes widened a bit, a frown still evident on his face, slight hints of surprise filling his features at what Bo said. He wasn’t sure what reaction he was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t that.

“I don’t know what the outcome will be, I don’t know if it will fix things between you. But this?” Bo gestured to Brock’s state, a slight dig at his heartbroken and pathetic appearance. 

“It has to stop. It’s affecting your game, and your ability to function. So call her, figure it out, get the answers you need and either fix it or move on.” 

Brock glared at his phone that was resting on the counter. He spent the last few hours after Bo had been there cleaning up his apartment, metaphorically piecing back together some sense of normalcy. Then he took a shower, letting himself mull over the idea of calling you, wondering if you’d even pick up the phone. He trimmed his beard, not fully shaving it, blocking out that he knew you liked his beard, remembering your fingertips on his cheek before some event he took you to. The old photograph of the memory coming into view of you saying you liked how it made him look, a soft smile on your lips as you spoke, cheeks heating up from the compliments you gave. That was the first time he remembered that he realized the things he was feeling for you weren’t what a friend would feel for another friend. 

It was late fall, the Canucks annual charity dinner in full swing. You had come as Brock’s date that night, meeting most of the team for the first time. They had all heard about you before, offering knowing smiles as you entered the event with Brock’s arm around your waist. Even if Brock didn’t know how he felt, they all did. They watched as his eyes lingered on you for a little too long, how he danced with you slowly, keeping his arm securely locked on your hip as if you were the only two in the room.

Brock slowly picked up his phone, fingers tapping methodically toward your contact, something he hadn’t opened in weeks but still came naturally, a muscle memory that he never lost. He wasn’t sure if it was Bo’s words that got him to this point, or if it was him finally accepting that maybe you deserved to be heard out, but as he thought back to that first night of realizing his feelings, his mind danced through the memories fondly, them sparkling bright like the stars that night on the boat. 

You had just gotten off of an entirely too long conversation with your mother, one that had your head pounding and all you could think about was the bottle of red wine sitting on your counter and the hot bath that you were going to take. Between brunch with Holly that week, seeing Brock, and your mom, you needed to take whatever energy you had left and try to relax. You grabbed the bottle, foregoing the glass as you walked into your bathroom, turning on the water as hot as you could. Maybe if you made it hot enough, you’d feel something other than the ache in your chest. 

Seeing Brock felt like a figment of your imagination, and even though you knew you got the reaction that you deserved, that didn’t mean that it didn’t wreck the already fragmented pieces of your heart. Things had been hard since you left him in his bedroom, eyes wide in shock, heart burst and bleeding on his sleeve. You hadn’t slept in what felt like weeks, barely getting through the motions of each day, walking around Vancouver, and feeling him around you. You didn’t dare step foot far enough into downtown where Rogers Arena was, you couldn’t handle being near the building for fear of what it would do to you mentally. 

You ignored hockey completely, tuning out the team, only hearing the bits and pieces that Holly told you the few times you had seen or spoken to her. The Canucks were too much of a tie to Brock, and you couldn’t handle watching them, seeing him on the tv, so instead, you tuned it out. But none of that compared to seeing him again, at the old coffee shop you first forged a friendship with him in, the only place you still allowed yourself to sometimes go when you needed a small taste of memories of him that were happy. 

You sat in the bath until the water went cold, slowly working your way through too much wine to be acceptable for one person to drink on a Tuesday evening. You allowed yourself to cry, letting the tears silently roll down your cheeks, bubbles slowly melting away in the water, telling yourself that this was the last time you’d let yourself cry about Brock. He didn’t want anything to do with you anymore, a notion that you were now acutely aware of, his harsh words echoing in your mind with each sip coming straight from the bottle. 

You get out of the bath, tossing on a pair of soft shorts and a big t-shirt, swaying into the kitchen, in a wine drunken haze. For the first time in a long time, you felt an emotion that you didn’t think you’d ever feel, acceptance. It was okay how Brock felt, it was okay that he didn’t want to hear you out, and while you still felt regret over your decision, part of you started to come around to the idea that there would be a life without Brock. Maybe it wasn’t today, but someday you were going to be able to open up those years of memories with him and they wouldn’t hurt, they’d instead be looked at fondly. Brock saw a side of you that no one else got to, and even if it all went wrong, you don’t regret sharing just a small portion of your life with him. 

You tapped on your phone, connecting it to your speakers in your kitchen, turning on a relaxing playlist. Before you could realize what you were doing, you opened the cabinets, carefully pulling out the ingredients for baking soft chocolate chip cookies, something you hadn’t done in months. Baking used to always be your escape, but when you left Brock, even that stress and pain was too much to get you to pull out the mixer. The heartbreak you felt couldn’t be fixed with chocolate chip cookies, not this time. But, as you stood there, wine drunk in your kitchen with music playing softly, you finally felt like you could bake again. 

You were startled when the music coming from your phone stopped, the generic ringtone indicating someone was calling now coming from the speakers. You ignored it, letting the ringing continue until it sent whoever it was to voicemail, assuming it was your mom calling again, something you didn’t have the energy for. You were finally feeling somewhat okay, you didn’t need her in your ear about fixing things with Brock for the second time that day. When the phone rang a second time, and then a third, you resolved to the fact that whoever was calling must have had something important to say. 

You picked up your phone, heart in your throat as it went to voicemail a final time. You froze seeing the bubble on your home screen indicating you had three missed calls, all from Brock. His name never felt weirder to see on your screen, the emojis he put in there still present, something that used to always be on your phone but had since vanished. You couldn’t wrap your mind about why he would call, let alone call three times, but your heart feared the worst. Maybe something happened to his dad, maybe something happened to him, or the dog. You didn’t know, but when your phone lit up again for the fourth time, this time a picture of you and Brock lighting up the screen, you answered almost immediately. 

“Brock?” You said, tentatively, you didn’t know what the tone of the conversation would be, and your stomach was racing with nerves. 

“Yeah, uhm, hi. Hi.” He stuttered, clearly nervous to be calling you. 

You gulped, sitting down on the stool by the island, legs dangling down, fingers nervously tapping on the counter. The wine you drank seemingly evaporating from your system, your mind falsely clear as you took in his voice. God, you missed hearing his voice. 

“Is everything okay?” You asked, worriness present in your voice. Brock picked up on it right away, reassuring you everything was fine and that bad news wasn’t why he was calling. 

“I’m sorry about the other day.” He started, referring to your run-in at the coffee shop.

“You have nothing to apologize for, Brock.” You softly spoke, terrified if you said too much that he would remember that he was talking to you, and hang up. 

“I do, that wasn’t fair of me to treat you that way, and I’m sorry for it.” He said, his voice was firm but still soft. You could almost hear the wheels turning in his head through the phone, picturing him, probably in his kitchen at the same place you were, running a hand through his hair as he spoke. Before you could say anything in response, he spoke again,

“I was hoping we could talk if you’re up for it?” Your eyes widened at his words, something you weren’t expecting to hear from him. Not that you expected a call from him at all, but let alone an invitation to talk. 

“Now?” You asked, unsure if he meant on the phone or something else. 

“If you’re free? I uhm, I got curry, from that place you like?” He offered. You couldn’t believe how small his voice sounded on the phone, so much weight held in an offer for curry, something that used to be a routine. 

“I can’t drive, I had some wine.” You started, Brock exhaling in response.

“No, no, uhm, I can take an uber. Be there soon?” You said, not entirely confident in your voice or words but hopeful for what was to come. 

“Yeah, yeah that works. Keycode is still the same, just, come up.” He said. The conversation felt awkward, two people who had been through so much, trying to navigate the broken pieces of a love that was almost everything.  

You walked into his apartment nervously, for the first time since knowing Brock, you truly felt like you didn’t belong there. You felt as if it was something was off. Brock looked better than he did the last time you saw him, his beard was trimmed, his hair clean, and his eyes didn’t look as tired. You felt uncomfortable there, standing in his kitchen while you waited for him to speak. When he didn’t, you found yourself getting more anxious, wanting to do anything to break the silence as he looked at you. 

“Brock, how did we get here?” you asked, instantly regretting the question as soon as the words slipped fom your lips. It was a question that you already knew the answer to, because it was a situation that had the blood on your hands. 

Brock sighed, bringing a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose, jumping right into the discussion that had been put off for entirely too long now. 

“It was never me that didn’t know what they wanted. I told you that I wanted you. I meant it. And you left. You let me have you for one night and you left.” Brock said, eyes watering. He was standing across the counter from you and all you could think about was pulling yourself into his arms and trying to make it better. But you couldn’t, you lost that right the second you walked out all those months ago. You wiped the tears from your cheeks, leaning a bit on the counter as you smiled sadly at him.

“Brock, I love everything about you. You make everything better. You make me love the things I hate about myself because you’re you. And you love them, why wouldn’t I want to be with you?” You felt like your head was spinning with each word that you spoke, your heart beginning to beat faster as you wished he could put himself inside of it, feeling every emotion you felt, trusting that what you were saying was the truth. You knew you didn’t deserve that trust, you could only hope that Brock would see past your mistake, and remember who you were. 

“I’ve never been in love before, not until you. All of those feelings were only for you. And there you were, giving yourself to me and it scared me. Brock, it scared me so bad that all I knew how to do was run. And I know that’s not fair, you deserve more answers than that, you deserve someone who isn’t scared. But that’s the truth, and you deserve the truth.” Your voice was cracking as you spoke, words pouring out of your chest that you weren’t sure made sense anymore. You watched Brock carefully, trying to piece together the expressions on his face that you couldn’t decipher. You felt like you didn’t even recognize him anymore, that you were just two people who knew each other years before, and you didn’t know how a few mere months could do that to two hearts that were so closely connected. 

“I just don’t understand how you can say all that, but when I told you I loved you, you left.” He said, voice cracking, tone matching yours. He ran a hand over his face, bringing his eyes to yours. He was trying to think of the right words to say, letting his mind process everything you told him. He couldn’t even focus on the fact that you just threw your heart over the table because there was a part of him that wasn’t allowing himself to believe you. 

“I never would have been mad at you for not feeling the same, but you tore apart everything. Feelings aside, you picked up our friendship and threw it overboard when you decided to leave. I would have gotten over my feelings, but you decided that wasn’t enough, and that our entire friendship no longer was worth saving.” His words were harsh, cutting you deep because you didn’t want him to think that you didn’t want his friendship. You were standing on the edge of the boat, trying to reel in all of your emotions and Brock came crashing into you like a wave in a storm, and every fight or flight instinct had you thinking the best course of an option was to throw yourself overboard. 

“Brock you were everything to me. I fell in love with you almost a year ago. You were everything I ever wanted and then it happened and it was so good that it scared me, and I fucked it all up. I let every insecurity tell me that it could never work.” Your voice breaking, desperately trying to make him believe what you were saying. If this was the last time you saw him, you needed him to know you loved him. Maybe that was selfish, but after all this time you still did, and after what you did, he deserved the whole truth.

“I just need you, to be honest with me.” Brock sighs. Your words should have been enough, and his heart and head were colliding as he tried to figure out what to do. He hated seeing you cry, he hated that he was in a way doing to you what you did to him by letting you release every feeling you had, offering next to nothing in return. But, another part of him felt like it was fair, and that he shouldn’t feel bad for making you give him answers. He spent months trying to get over you, trying to comprehend how one night made everything go so wrong, and maybe the answers would settle the battle in his heart and he could finally forgive you. 

“Honest about what, Brock? About how I’ve spent every day since thinking about how I let go of the best thing I ever had? About how I painfully relieve what it felt like landing back in Vancouver knowing you were thousands of miles away hurting because of me? About how I’m still so madly in love with you that it's just aching in my chest I can’t get rid of no matter how hard I try?”

“Did you regret it? Leaving?” Brock whispered.

“The moment I got to the airport, I haven't stopped regretting it since.” The tears were freely falling down your cheeks. You watched in confusion as Brock walked to you, coming closer than he’d been in a long time. Before you could process his next moves, he took your face in his hands, pressing your lips together in a kiss.

You responded quickly, instinctively kissing him back, it was different than last time, probably because of the intensity, both of you trying to communicate your love for each other in the moment. Brock deepened the kiss, lifting you up and setting you on the counter, hands digging into your thighs. You could feel all of him, and you wanted this feeling to last forever.

Brock pulled back, running his thumb along your cheek where a few tears were still there.

“Brock-“ you started.

“We have to do this right, I need to know you’re in, that you want to be with me. For real this time”

“I’m in, Brock. You have my whole heart if you want it.” You smiled.  

He leaned in, kissing you once more. When he pulled back, he pressed soft kisses all over your cheeks, trailing down your neck before pulling you in close to him, holding you tight. 

“I love you.” You said, unsure of if he would be ready to reciprocate, but you didn’t mind. You would wait for Brock for as long as it took if it meant that things would be okay, that you would be together. 

“I love you too, always have.” When he smiled, it was bright, eyes crinkling, cheeks slightly flushed from the shared kisses. You would do anything to keep that smile on his face all the time. 

“By the way, I owe Petey $100 now.” He laughed. 

“Oh? Why’s that.” You hummed, threading your hands through his hair. 

“He knew we’d end up together I guess.” 

“Seems like a good investment.” You teased. 

“Worth every penny.” He agreed, dipping his head down and kissing you softly once more. The feeling of his lips on yours was something you knew you’d never grow tired of, knowing that Brock was it for you, and you’d love him as long as he let you. 

[teenwolffan-with-nolife]

Secrets

Word Count: 1,555

Characters: Derek Hale, Reader, Lydia Martin, Stiles Stilinski, Scott McCall, OC character

Pairings: Derek Hale x Reader

Warnings: ANGST, some fluff, ABUSE TW

A/N: sorry it sucks

Masterlist

You took a deep breath before entering Derek’s loft for the pack meeting.

Smile, (Y/N). you told yourself.

“Hey.” you smiled as Derek opened the door.

“Hey,” he replied, giving a tight-lipped smile back as you entered.

“(Y/N)!” you heard the rest of the pack exclaim as you entered.

“Hey, sorry I’m late! I had some work to do,” you said.

“Don’t worry about it. We’re just about to start.” Lydia said, motioning to you to sit next to her.

You walked to sit next to Lydia as you looked around at the pack with a smile.

-----

You looked around, tapping your foot anxiously. You looked at the time.

10:19 already?! you exclaimed to yourself.

“I gotta go,” you said, getting up.

“What? It’s not even 11!” Stiles exclaimed.

“I know, my curfew is 10:30,” you replied, standing up as you started grabbing your belongings.

“But we’re not even done with the movie!” Scott complained.

“I know, just tell me how it ends,” you said, rushing to leave.

“(Y/N)! Can’t you break curfew just this once?!” Lydia whined.

“No.” you deadpanned.

“Oh c’mon! You’re always such a good girl!” Lydia started teasing you.

“Stop. (Y/N) said she had to go.” Derek said,

annoyed with the pack.

“Thanks. I’ll see you guys tomorrow.” you have a small smile as you went off.

“(Y/N),” Derek called, running after you.

“Yeah?” you asked.

“Here, come with me.” he touched your arm softly, pulling you away from the pack.

“What’s up?” you asked

“Actually, I was gonna ask you that,” he said.

“Uhm, why?” you asked.

“I could see you bouncing your leg, I can smell the anxiousness and fear coming off of you. Are you okay?” he asked, looking concerned.

“I’m okay.” you lied.

“Are you sure?” he asked again, looking doubtful about your answer.

“I’m sure. Thanks for checking up on me. I gotta go. Bye, Der.” you pressed your lips against his.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.” you said, running offz

-----

You felt your heart ache against your chest as your breathing was labored. 

10:36. 6 minutes late you said to yourself.

You opened the door, entering your house.

“D-Dad? I-I’m home,” you called shakily.

“You’re late,” he said. 

You looked down, knowing he was in front of you. You could smell the alcohol reeking from him.

“I-I know, I’m sorry. T-There was traffic and….” you started, even though you knew no excuse would be good enough.

“You’re lying.” he spat.

Your eyes watered a bit, but you continued to stay still, looking down.

“I-I lost track of time,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

“What?” your father said.

“I-I…” you stuttered, taking deep breaths.

“Look at me,” he said.

You kept your head down.

“Look at me,” he repeated, nearing you.

You tried to control your emotions.

“I said look at me you bitch!” your father slammed his fist on the wall next to your head, causing you to jump.

You looked at him, as your eyes watered more.

“Where were you?!” he yelled.

“I-I lost track of time,” you said, your voice shaky.

“Don’t let it happen again.” he clenched his teeth in anger, as he held onto your arm, squeezing it tightly.

“I-I’m sorry.” you cried.

His grip only got tighter.

“I-I’m sorry.” you cried again.

“You still need to learn your lesson,” he said, you could smell the alcohol from his breath.

“P-Please. I-I’m sorry.” you cried.

He ignored your cries, pulling you harshly.

----

You looked in the mirror the next morning, looking at your now dark blue and purple, swollen eye. You’d just come up with another lie to tell everyone at school.

You walked slowly downstairs, your body aching with each step as you kept an eye out for your father. He wasn't much different drunk than he was normally.

You saw he wasn't there as you quickly grabbed your bag and leather jacket and left.

----

“(Y/N)! What the hell happened?!” Lydia gasped, noticing your eye.

“I was playing around and accidentally hit myself in the eye.” you lied.

“Oh wow,” Stiles said, looking at your eye.

“Really, I’m fine. It just hurts a little.” you smiled, nodding your head.

“Okay, well I’m gonna be late to class, so I’ll see you guys later,” Lydia said, running off.

----

You put your hand in your pocket, reaching for your phone, realizing it wasn't there. 

Are you kidding me? you groaned, realizing you left it at home.

----

“(Y/N).” you heard Derek’s voice from behind you.

“Derek? What are you doing here?” you asked him, confused.

“What the hell happened to your eye?” he nearly yelled.

“I-I had an accident. I’m fine,” you said.

“What happened?” he asked again.

“I accidentally hit my eye, it’s not a big deal. What are you doing here?” you asked.

“You left your bracelet last night. I tried to text you, but you didn't reply,” he said, holding your bracelet up.

“Oh, thanks. I left my phone at home today,” you replied, taking your bracelet.

“Okay….” he replied.

“Yeah,” you replied a bit awkwardly.

“Does it hurt?” he asked, his voice soft.

“Just a little,” you replied, looking down.

He reached down, taking your hand in his. You saw his veins turn black as he took your pain.

“You don't have to-” you started.

“You’re in so much pain,” he said, worried.

“Thanks, I gotta go.” you quickly replied, pulling away and running off, before he could stop you.

-----

You took a deep breath as you walked into your house.

Your dad wasn't home yet so you decided to get other things done.

-----

“(Y/N)” your dad roared as he entered the house. It was a little after 10 and he was already drunk.

“Y-Yes…” you ran downstairs as fast as you could.

“You little bitch!” he yelled, as he slapped you hard across the face. 

You gasped, stumbling a few steps back.

“W-What are you talking about?” you said, your voice shaky.

“You stole from me!” he yelled.

“I-I didn’t… i didn't take anything.” you said.

“You liar!” he yelled again, grabbing your hair and pulling you to him.

You groaned softly, feeling the pain from the grip on your hair.

“S-Stop.” you cried.

“Get out.” he said, his teeth clenched.

“W-What?”, you said softly.

“Get out! Get out!” he yelled, pushing you away from him.

You held in your cries as you ran out of your house into the pouring rain.

You didn't know where to go, you didn't have anyone else.

You ran as far as you could, as you stopped to take deep breaths.

You looked around, trying to spot any familiar places. Until you saw Derek’s loft.

You were now shivering too, you were barefoot.

You knocked on Derek’s door.

“(Y/N).” he opened the door almost immediately.

“C-Can I come in?” you cried shakily.

“Come in.” he quickly pulled you in.

“What the hell happened?” he said, looking worried.

“I-I…” you tried to speak, as your cries came out instead.

You sobbed loudly as Derek held onto you, rocking you back and forth.

“It’s okay (Y/N). I’m here. Just breathe.” 

----

You dried your tears as you cuddled into Derek’s side, holding onto him tightly.

“Tell me what happened.” he said softly.

“I-I” you started.

“It’s okay, just breathe.” he said, stroking your back.

“It started when I-I was 10. H-He would always get drunk, b-but it started getting really bad…..” you said, you hugged your knees as you swung back and forth.

“Why didn't you tell anyone? Why didn't you tell me?” he asked.

“I-I don’t know, I was scared, and we have bigger problems to deal with.” you sniffled.

“Hey, nothing is more important than you. Don't think that your problems are smaller than everything that’s going on” Derek said.

You just nodded your head.

“You’re gonna stay with me from now on, okay?” he said, putting a hand on your shoulder.

“Okay.” you replied quietly.

“I think it’s time to sleep. You can borrow a shirt from me.” he said, standing up. He put his hand out for you.

You looked him in the eye for a minute before taking his hand and standing up as he pulled you into a tight embrace.

“He’s not gonna hurt you again.” he whispered softly into your ear.

He kissed your forehead, holding your hand as you two walked to his room.

Maybe he could tell you didn't want to be alone.

----

You laid awake in bed, Derek’s arms wrapped around your stomach, holding you tightly.

“Are you okay?” you heard his voice.

“I’m okay.” you replied softly.

You turned around to face him.

He put his hands on your hips, pulling you in as he pressed a kiss to your lips.

“You know I love you.” he said.

“I know, I love you too.” you said, stroking his hair.

“Please don't tell the pack.” you begged him.

“Why do you want to hide this?” 

“I’m just not ready to tell them. Like how we’re not ready to tell them about us.” you said softly.

“Okay, but just know, (Y/N), they’re your family, they love you.” 

“I know.” you nodded.

“Good.” he kissed your forehead as you buried into his chest, slowly drifting off to sleep.

[elsanna-shenanigans]

April Contest Submission #13: A Break From Normalcy

Words: ca. 5,000 Setting: mAU Lemon: no CW: Character death, grief, slight gay panic, minor language

Ever since her childhood, Elsa had been a girl of routine.

Whims were rare for the girl, and her actually following them was even more rare.

In elementary school, she packed the same thing for lunch every day, played on the same swing every day at recess, and wore her hair the same way every morning.

This continued throughout her life. She woke up at 6:15 in the morning, every morning, without an alarm. She ate the same chocolate cereal for breakfast every morning at 6:25 before taking her shower at 6:40.

At 7:00 on the dot, she was always starting her car to go to school. She took a less busy back street to avoid traffic and usually arrived at school at 7:15, give or take three minutes.

She then proceeded to read whatever book had caught her fancy that day until 7:55, at which point she made her way to class, five minutes early. She left school at exactly 3:15 each day, just after the rush of students eager to leave, and she arrived home by 3:30 typically.

When she got home, she would do homework and study until her parents got home at 5:30, though they often fluctuated more than her with their schedules.

She then had dinner with them at 6:30 and played whatever video game caught her fancy at the time or practiced any skills she was learning outside of school.

Then, at last, she was in bed by 9:00.

This routine carried her through high school, and during the summer following her high school graduation she only modified it a little to fit a part time job into her schedule.

Then, she started college.

She watched around her as the other students at Arendelle University seemed more and more broken as the semester dragged on. The bags under their eyes darkened and their grades declined.

Meanwhile, Elsa thrived. A lifetime of setting schedules and deadlines for herself had prepared her for this. Her assignments were always submitted on time, she was always well rested, and her grades were fantastic.

This continued until her senior year when she had a sudden whim to check out a new coffee shop. Whims were rare for her. She was usually strict with her adherence to her schedule, and she normally squashed any whims before she even considered them. However, this whim seemed harmless enough, as she could easily incorporate it into her schedule.

This whim, however, was the first whim that would change her life.

She liked her routine well enough, but sometimes a little break was needed from normalcy.

She usually went to a less busy place for a coffee every day at 10:00 and then worked on her homework at home until 11:30, but now she found herself at a different, busy place, Der Kaffeehausen, each day at 10:15, and instead of going home to do her work, she found herself settling into the table with a broken booth at the coffee shop.

Der Kaffeehausen itself was far different than the old place she frequented. There was live music almost all the time. The crowds were loud. The menu changed up each day. However, within the chaos there was order.

The same barista worked every weekday, which fit Elsa’s school schedule of Monday, Wednesday and Friday well. This meant her coffee, a medium iced mocha coffee with light cream and Splenda, was exactly the same every time she got it.

She also got the same table every day since the booth was broken, so she could count on having her spot whenever she came.

It was about a week into the semester when Elsa met Anna. Well, she didn’t really meet Anna. She overheard the girl from the next table over while she was writing an essay on Joan of Arc.

“Hey, yeah, it’s Anna. Loving college so far, just thought I’d let you know how it’s going. There’s this guy who-“ Elsa heard the girl speaking into her phone.

She didn’t catch the rest of the conversation. Not because eavesdropping was rude, but mostly because the redhead’s name sounded pleasant and that was what stuck with her.

Every weekday after that, Anna became part of her routine, even though the two had never spoken. Anna would show up within five minutes of Elsa’s own arrival. While Elsa would get her coffee and get straight to work, Anna’s routine, or lack thereof, was far less refined.

One day she would loudly slurp a massive bowl of soup and then take a nap in the booth. The next she would do homework of her own. The following day she might play Pokémon on her Nintendo Switch, loudly whooping when she caught a rare Pokémon or won a battle. She was predictable in her unpredictability, Elsa realized.

There was one thing, however, that she noticed Anna did every single day. The phone call. Some days it lasted maybe a minute. Others it lasted almost an hour, but Anna always called someone – the same person each day, Elsa theorized.

She learned that Anna tended to ramble when she talked, and the phone conversations sounded very one sided. It almost sounded like Anna was writing a diary out loud.

Eventually Elsa found herself getting absorbed into Anna’s conversations herself. She usually snapped out of it quickly enough, however. She had work to do, after all. A routine to keep.

-.-.-.-.-

It was October when her routine was once again shaken, but unlike last time, this time it wasn’t her own doing. She was sitting in her normal spot, laptop open as she typed and with a textbook balanced on her lap. Anna was strangely absent, a middle aged couple at the redhead’s usual table.

Elsa’s fingers clicked and clacked, but part of her still felt something was missing without Anna. It was a weird feeling, especially since the two had never even spoken.

That was why she was so surprised at the voice to her right that morning.

“Excuse me,” Anna’s voice muttered sheepishly. Elsa turned up and smiled a little.

“Hi,” she returned.

Anna looked around a bit before gesturing to herself. She then asked, “Hi, me?”

Elsa had to force herself not to giggle.

“Right, me. Who else would you be talking to? You don’t usually talk to many people here,” Anna carried on, “which is okay! Doing your own thing is totally fine, sometimes I just want to be left alone too. I totally get it.”

Elsa waited patiently as the redhead made her point. Truthfully, she had only really heard Anna talk during the phone calls, so to have her voice directed at Elsa was a treat.

“But anyway, uh, I meant to ask if there’s room for one more at your booth? Mine’s kind of taken,” Anna finished with a gesture to the middle aged couple.

It took Elsa a moment to realize the girl was done. It took her a bit longer to realize what Anna had even said. This wasn’t only the first time Elsa had talked to Anna. It was also the first time she looked into the girl’s eyes, and they were beautiful. The teal perfectly complemented her copper hair. She cleared her throat and answered, hoping she wasn’t blushing.

“Of course,” she said, smile still on her face, “The booth is broken a bit on the end, but you’re welcome to join me.”

The relief on Anna’s face was surprising. Was she a person of routine too?

“Thank you! I didn’t want to bother you because you always look so busy. I know that I can be a distraction,” Anna said self deprecatingly.

“No, no, it’s fine,” Elsa assured her, as she settled into Elsa’s booth. The end of the booth was broken, of course, so Anna ended up fairly close to Elsa, but she could handle it. She was a routine-oriented person, not a completely antisocial person.

They settled into a comfortable silence as Elsa continued working on her homework about William of Normandy. Anna, for her part, just rummaged through her bag and then played Pokémon. This lasted until Elsa had to leave to keep her routine. Strangely, at 11:30, she found herself not quite wanting to leave.

It wasn’t that the two had spoken or formed some kind of bond, but Elsa had enjoyed just being in Anna’s presence. However, something felt off about their hour together. Something felt wrong. Elsa had never once really deviated from her routine, but this was the feeling she thought she’d have if she ever did.

It took a few more days of Anna sitting with her in silence to realize what made her feel so anxious.

“Anna…?” she mumbled one day. She didn’t think about the fact that the two hadn’t even introduced themselves and she had no logical reason to know this girl’s name.

“Hmm?”

Anna didn’t even seem a little suspicious at Elsa knowing her name.

“I know what it’s like to have a routine. If you need to make your phone call, I won’t listen in on it,” Elsa said with a gentle smile.

Anna smiled back at her and, surprising her, pulled her into a hug. It was quick, but when it was over, Elsa instantly missed the warmth it provided.

“Thank you,” Anna said with red cheeks, “I just didn’t want to bother you. I know you’re always super busy, and your work is probably way harder than mine. I mean, I’m just a freshman, but you’re like, a senior.”

“No,” Elsa reassured her, “Mr. Weselton’s class is boring, but it’s really easy.”

“Wow,” Anna said as she removed her phone from her satchel, “You must be some kind of genius. I’m in his Historical Perspectives class and I can’t keep up.”

The compliment made Elsa blush even more, so she just made a noncommittal ‘hmm’ and returned to her work so that Anna could make the call.

She noted, as usual, that it sounded as if the conversation was very one sided, but she didn’t pry. She kept typing, pausing only to reference her textbook. When 11:30 rolled around, she packed her things, waved to Anna, and mouthed a silent ‘bye.’

The little wave and smile Anna gave her stuck with her for the rest of the day.

-.-.-.-.-.-

It was ten days until Christmas at Arendelle University, and Elsa was still surprised at how empty Der Kaffeehausen was.

The semester ended on December 14th and resumed on January 3rd, so she knew logically that the campus would be empty, but it was still unnerving being the only customer in the whole place. There was a pianist playing at the piano on stage, but it wasn’t the usual jaunty stuff one would expect here. Likewise, there were only two baristas. Thankfully her favorite was still there.

She felt a little strange going to the broken booth when the entire lobby was empty of people. She didn’t even have homework, but her routine was so ingrained in her that she couldn’t quite bring herself to make the drive home to her family, even for Christmas.

She opened a blank word document, due to muscle memory more than anything else, and tried to find some sort of inspiration to type something. Her mind was drawing a blank. She blamed her lack of homework between semesters, but she knew the truth.

Anna had become part of her routine. The two barely really spoke, and they certainly didn’t know each other well. Had she even told Anna her name?

Regardless, whether Anna was sitting at the next booth over, or playing Pokémon in the same booth as Elsa, Elsa was accustomed to the redhead. She now felt the way she would feel if she were to ever sleep in past 6:15, or go to another different coffee shop. It was a feeling that things were just barely off, and it made her uncomfortable.

“Hi,” Anna’s voice pulled her from her thoughts. Elsa looked up to her and smiled.

“Hi, me?” she asked teasingly.

“Well, you never told me your name, so I didn’t know how else to say ‘hi’,” Anna said with her own teasing grin, sliding easily into the broken booth beside Elsa.

“Didn’t I?” Elsa asked, feigning obliviousness, “I’m pretty sure I did. Maybe you have a poor memory.”

Anna pretended to take offense at that, gasping comically loudly.

“Why, I never! Who could possibly forget your name?” she asked with her usual smile.

Elsa giggled, “You’d be surprised. I’d say if college had superlatives, I’d be voted ‘most forgettable.’”

“Well I could never forget you,” Anna mumbled stubbornly. Elsa blushed and returned to her work – oh. Right. No work. No excuse.

“Thanks,” she muttered shyly.

To her surprise Anna scooted far closer than usual to her in the booth and peeked at the blank word document.

“I was wondering what you were working on during Christmas break,” she said with a tone filled with satisfaction at having her questions answered.

“Uh, yeah, I just don’t like going home for holidays,” Elsa told a half truth, “What about you?”

“Oh, I don’t have much reason to go home either,” she answered, but her voice wasn’t quite as bright as it normally was. Elsa could feel some kind of unspoken tension in the air.

That was when Elsa had the second big whim that would change her life.

“I hear there’s a beautiful lake on the other side of campus. Would you like to go?” she asked hesitantly, not really sure why Anna’s answer was so important to her.

“Really?” Anna asked with a tilt of her head, “I thought you don’t like going outside? That you like, have a thing about dirt or something?”

Elsa laughed at the misunderstanding, not even realizing she was leaning very close to Anna. By the time she realized that their shoulders were touching, she didn’t have it in her to be embarrassed.

“No, you dork,” she teased, “I just like keeping a routine.”

Anna was blushing as she playfully shoved her. She was thankful that they were alone in there, because she was sure their giggles would disturb other customers.

“Well, yes, then. Let’s go see this lake of yours.”

Elsa stood and packed her laptop into her bag, carefully grabbing her coffee in her other hand.

“Well, do you want to drive or walk?”

“I’d say walk. I don’t like cars that much,” Anna mumbled the last bit before teasingly perking up, “Besides. I still don’t know your name, and I’m not in the mood to be kidnapped.”

Elsa jokingly snapped her fingers as the two made for the exit.

“Darn! You’re onto me,” she bantered. With a chuckle she said, “It’s Elsa, by the way.”

Anna said her name out loud a few times as if testing it.

“Such a pretty name,” she marveled, walking through the door Elsa was holding for her, “And such manners! My poor heart can’t take much more of this.”

Elsa was caught between a blush and a giggle. She was aware this was the first conversation the two had really had, but there was something about Anna that was so contagious.

“Shush, you dork,” she said with a smile.

The two walked through the deserted campus, making small talk and occasionally throwing snowballs at each other.

Elsa was surprised to find that she was having fun. She didn’t have the usual headache that accompanied deviations from her routine. She was happy and even laughing.

When the two reached the lake, Elsa wasn’t surprised to see that it was frozen solid. It was very cold outside, after all. It was actually pretty beautiful. She’d never been to the lake, for obvious reasons, so this wasn’t a bad way to see it for the first time.

“It’s so pretty,” Anna said with wide eyes.

“Yeah, it is,” Elsa agreed as she led them to a nearby bench, “I’ve never actually been here.”

“Really?” Anna asked, “How’d you know about it then?”

“My parents made me memorize a map of campus before I moved here.”

“Tell me about them?”

Elsa wasn’t sure why that sounded like a question, but something about it sounded so vulnerable.

“My parents?”

“Yeah, I’d love to know more about Mr. and Mrs. Elsa,” Anna joked, kicking her feet in the snow.

“Ah, yes. My father, Mr. Elsa. He’s great fun at parties,” Elsa teased.

“You know what I mean, you stinker.”

“Well, what do you want to know?” she asked, turning to look at Anna. Anna turned to her and returned the eye contact.

“Anything?”

“Well, they loved me. They were always strict, but in a protective way, I guess?”

“Like the map thing?” Anna offered.

“Like the map thing,“ Elsa nodded, “And they always prepared me for a quality education. It’s why I have my routine.”

“And how does that work?”

“I like to do the same things at the same time each day. It helps me stay organized. And it helps me keep my focus, I think.”

“Oh. So trips like this aren’t usually your thing.”

“Not usually.”

There was a comfortable silence as a dog ran by and rolled in the snow. Elsa half-expected Anna to chase it to pet the cute little thing, but to her surprise, the girl stayed seated.

“Thank you,” Anna said quietly.

“For what?”

“This was my first Christmas without my parents,” she said with a sad smile, “You’re the first real friend I’ve met here at Arendelle U, and I know this wasn’t easy for you, but I was so afraid I’d have to spend Christmas break completely alone.”

Elsa was floored. Anna was such a bright person. She lit everything up around her with her playfulness, her joy, and her general upbeat attitude. To hear such a sobering seriousness from the girl was like a punch to the gut.

“When you say, ‘the first Christmas without your parents,’ do you mean…?”

“My parents died this July in a car crash,” Anna said, almost mechanically. It was like she was reading a paragraph from a book.

“I’m so sorry, Anna. I had no idea,” Elsa said, looking down at the ground between them. She didn’t know what to say, but she so desperately wanted to comfort this girl.

All she could do was scoot closer to Anna and provide a shoulder if she needed it.

Anna graciously accepted it, laying her head on the arm, which was thankfully nice and fluffy due to Elsa’s winter coat.

“I never said anything. I’m just thankful to have someone to spend Christmas with. I knew I could count on you to be in our spot.”

Our spot? Elsa smiled inwardly at the thought that, not only had she made a friend, but she and that friend had their own little thing they could share. Sure, it was just an old broken booth in a coffee shop, but it was theirs.

The pair spent the rest of that day together at that frozen lake, only leaving when interrupted by their empty bellies and the freezing cold.

-.-.-.-.-.-

It was Valentine’s Day when Elsa made a startling discovery about herself.

She stared into the bathroom mirror after her 6:40 shower, but only for a moment. She couldn’t be late.

Her little epiphany wasn’t her fault. It was because of Anna, her newfound best friend. The girl who had piggybacked onto Elsa’s coffee shop routine and become a key part of her life. The girl who had lost her parents just before starting university, leading her to latch emotionally onto Elsa. The girl who, three days ago, on February 11th, had jokingly suggested that Elsa be her Valentine’s Day date.

It had been such a simple throwaway comment from Anna.

‘Since we’re both single, we might as well be each other’s date,’ she had said with a chuckle.

Elsa had fought the blush as best she could. Thankfully it was time for her to leave per her schedule, so she managed to escape the embarrassment she felt. It was also a Friday, so she had the entire weekend to sort through her feelings.

After a weekend of introspection, World of Warcraft, and homework, Elsa came to one conclusion:

“Fuck. I’m so gay.”

She realized, in hindsight, that it should have been obvious to her. She never pined after any men. She found herself admiring the female form (objectively, she always told herself), and the only times she had gotten flustered around others were around girls.

She found herself poring through her every memory as she drove to class. She re-examined every female she had known in school, as well as every male, hoping for some clear indication of any crushes she may have had. She just wanted to understand herself. It was terrifying to not understand her own sexuality and it felt like everything she knew had a different meaning now.

At 10:24, she pulled into Der Kaffeehausen, absentmindedly ordering her drink, thanking her favorite barista, and walked to her normal booth. For what had to be the first time, Anna was there before her, watching her with a smug expression and her feet propped onto Elsa’s spot on the bench.

“You’re late, I was getting worried,” Anna teased. When she noticed Elsa’s serious expression and absentminded demeanor, however, she sat up and shifted to a worried look, “Oh no. Are you okay? Did something happen?”

Elsa wordlessly sat beside Anna, wincing internally as the girl wrapped an arm around her. Her shoulder that Anna’s hand was resting on felt burning hot and every touch from Anna had a new meaning now in her head. She tried to speak but couldn’t find the words.

What would Anna think? Would she be disgusted? Would it make things awkward? Elsa loved their friendship, and she really didn’t want to lose it. Maybe she should just not tell Anna about her discovery?

Then she saw the adoration in Anna’s eyes and the decision was made for her. She took a deep breath.

“Anna, I think I’m gay,” she said with a confidence she didn’t feel.

Anna’s eyes widened a bit, but then her playful smile returned. With a fake haughty aura about her, she said in her most elegant voice, “Ah. So you’ve fallen for my seductive charm. I’m aware of the effect I have on women.”

Elsa just stared, jaw open.

“You absolute dork,” she said as a laugh bubbled up from her belly, “I’m coming out to you and you make an Office reference?”

Anna raised her hands in a placating gesture, “I just wanted to make it clear that I accept you for who you are, and I just assumed the best way would be to tease you like normal.”

Anna’s face fell for a moment.

“Oh wait! I wasn’t like trying to downplay your coming out! I just wanted you to know that I still like being around you. I mean, of course I do. Who wouldn’t like being around you? You’re beautiful and kind and super organized - it’s really inspiring, to be honest. Wait. Sorry, I’m rambling.”

“It’s okay, Anna, really. It’s one of the things I love about you,” Elsa said with a smile, blushing as she realized her own choice of words.

“Ah-hah! Love! Right, cause it’s Valentine’s Day!”

Anna was digging through her satchel and Elsa watched curiously.

“Since you’re my Valentine and all,” Anna began, finally finding a small box in her satchel and holding it up triumphantly, “and you’ve so clearly fallen for my feminine wiles.”

“I have not,” Elsa lied but Anna ignored her, holding the small box out to her.

“I got these for us,” Anna continued, unbothered by Elsa’s denial. Elsa tentatively grabbed the box and looked to Anna. With an eager look, Anna urged her on, “Come on! Open it!”

Elsa tentatively opened the small jewelry box and gasped at what was inside. It was a beautiful silver chain, on which a simple snowflake locket hung. With a delicate touch, Elsa grabbed the locket and opened it. Inside was a selfie the two had taken on their day at the frozen lake back at Christmas. Elsa instinctive held the locket to her heart before pushing it back to Anna.

“Anna, this is beautiful but I can’t accept this. It’s too much.”

Anna shrugged and refused to take the jewelry back.

“If you don’t take it, we won’t match,” Anna argued, reaching into her shirt and pulling out a matching locket with gold instead of silver, “Besides, it wasn’t expensive or anything. I just saw the snowflake and thought of you, you know, because of our little snow day back in December. Crazy how it’s been two months since then!”

Elsa reluctantly held the chain around her neck and blushed as she turned away, asking, “Can you clasp it for me, then?”

She felt the slight click of the hook fastening to the chain and turned to Anna, “H-how do I look?”

“You’ve always been beautiful, but now you look beautifuller, if that’s even possible. Er, not fuller. More beautiful.”

“Seriously, though, thank you for everything,” Elsa whispered, “You accepted my being gay, you accepted my weird habits when it comes to my routine, and you’ve always been so kind to me.”

“I should be thanking you, Elsa,” Anna said with a smile, “After my parents died, I couldn’t cope with it. We were always inseparable and then I was just, well, alone. I tried to cope by calling their phones, kind of like a journal, you know? It was almost like I was talking to them. But then I met you, and you’ve been there for me.”

Elsa pulled Anna into a hug.

It was then that she was hit by the third big, life-changing whim of her life.

“Let’s go on a date,” Elsa said as she stood extending a hand to Anna, who watched with wide eyes.

“Like, a date-date?”

Elsa nodded.

“Right now?”

Elsa nodded again, blushing furiously. Was she rushing things? Maybe. But she knew by now that the rare whims she had were best off not being ignored.

“But, your schedule-“ Anna began, taking Elsa’s hand anyway.

“It’s okay. I think this is more important.”

Anna stood beside Elsa, their hands still clasped together gently. Anna said with a happy smile, “Let’s go, then.”

And they did.

-.-.-.-.-

Ever since her childhood, Elsa had been a girl of routine.

Whims were rare for the girl, and her actually following them were even more rare.

Anna knew this, and she still cared for Elsa. That didn’t mean she couldn’t pull the blonde out of her self-imposed rut every now and again.

With a content sigh, she laid back onto the soft grass.

“This place looks a lot different in Summer,” Anna noted.

Elsa grinned as she turned to look at her girlfriend.

“It’s not the same without the snow and ice,” she agreed, “but the bright sun and the grass really bring out your eyes.”

“I know what you mean. Your eyes were dazzling in the snow when we came here in the winter,” Anna nodded as as she rolled onto her side to cuddle with Elsa. She welcomed the warmth of Elsa’s boob-pillow as she felt an arm wrap around her shoulder. This was the life.

It was late July, and she would start the new semester soon. She would be a senior, like Elsa was when they met. But until then, she was content to enjoy these lazy summer days. When Elsa didn’t have to work, at least.

She was just glad that Elsa wasn’t a strict on herself with her routine anymore. If she was, they could never spend hours just lying in the grass together. It made all the itchiness that would come later worth it.

“This is great,” she said with a yawn.

“Anna?” Elsa asked.

“Hmm?”

“Remember that locket you gave me?” Elsa asked, squirming a bit under Anna. She sounded nervous.

Anna fished hers out of her baggy t-shirt and held it up in front of them, “Yep. Still wear it.”

Elsa chuckled, and Anna recognized the same nervousness from the time she had come out to Anna. Anna turned to look into Elsa’s eyes.

“Are you okay? You’re not going to tell me you’re pregnant or something, are you?” Anna tried to joke.

“No, no, it’s nothing like that,” Elsa said in a slightly more confident manner, “It’s just that I never got a chance to pay you back for that.”

Pay her back…? Anna was confused, but it sounded like Elsa was struggling to find her words, so she was patient.

“So I, well, I got you a gift,” Elsa said with a deep blush as she looked away and handed Anna a small jewelry box. She wasn’t usually this shy.

Anna smiled at her and pecked her on the lips. It was quick and it was chaste, but every time they kissed it still invigorated Anna.

“You didn’t have to do that, you stinker,” she said with a smile as she took the offered box, “but thank you.”

She could have sworn she heard Elsa mumble ‘don’t thank me yet,’ but she wasn’t sure. She just grabbed Elsa’s right hand with her left and used her right hand to slowly, and clumsily, open the jewelry box.

Her eyes widened.

“Holy fuck, is this what I think it is!?” she shouted a bit too excitedly, sitting up and avoiding the glares of the parents around her.

Elsa was sitting up beside her, but wasn’t quite looking at her. Anna felt her girlfriend nod beside her.

“It was, well, just a whim,” Elsa muttered sheepishly,“ and I’ve learned not to ignore those.”

Anna took out the shiny gold ring and stared in awe at the diamond. She held it up to the sun and had to squint to look at it.

“Jesus Elsa, I don’t know what to say,” she said excitedly.

“An answer would be a good start,” Elsa joked with a worried smile.

Anna kissed her again and pulled her into a tight hug. She met Elsa’s misty eyes with her own.

“Yes.”

[hyuniebaby]

Focus (3)

Pairings: Baekhyun x Y/N x Junmyeon

Genre: a little smut

AU: College student! Baekhyun, Professor! Junmyeon AU, college!au

Warning: masturbation

A/N: This part isn’t as important as the previous part. I just wanted to introduce some of the friends of baek and oc. There’s not much happening, just their friends teasing them. This part also mentions that Baekhyun can’t get oc out of his mind 🤪

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11

Baekhyun is a big flirt but he does NOT sleep around. He likes stability. He likes people who are constantly there. So when he woke up after sleeping with you, he didn’t know what to do.

His previous experiences allowed him to stay in bed until his partner wakes up, but you two weren’t in a relationship. Wouldn’t it be too awkward if you woke up cuddled to him? Is he supposed to be a one night stand? He didn’t want to be a one night stand though. Sex with you was mindblowing. He would even dare say it was the best sex of his life.

Baekhyun also dislikes awkward situations. When he’s with his friends usually when something awkward happens, he’d be the first to break the ice. But in this case it was different. Yes, he flirts with you most of the time you’d cross paths but he doesn’t really know you well enough. It was all flirting and no getting-to-know-each-other-deeply. Will you be mad if he left? Will you freak out if he stays? He doesn’t know! It was driving him insane.

But still, he doesn’t like awkward situations so he opts to leave before you wake up. He doesn’t want to be a jerk and just go out and leave though. He wanted to remain friends with you because he’s going to have to spend a whole semester with you. With this in mind, he grabs a pen and paper and writes a note for you quickly, afraid that you’d catch him doing this. If you do, this situation will be more awkward.

When he’s done with the note, he places it on your bedside table. Then he grabs his clothes and quickly wears them. He spares a glance at you before he reaches the door. You looked so peaceful, so beautiful. As if a spell was casted on him, he walks back to your bed and places a kiss on your forehead. And then he leaves.

When he reaches his dorm, he was surprised his roommate, Jongdae was still awake. After all, it was three in the morning. Jongdae squints his eyes on him. “Where have you been?”

“Uhh... I... uh...” Baekhyun doesn’t know how to answer. He scratches the back of his head while he tries to come up with an excuse.

“Nevermind. Tell me about it tomorrow when you’ve gathered your mind.” Jongdae dismisses him. Baekhyun sighs with relief. He goes to his room and lies on his bed. Still tired from the activities that happened, he falls asleep with you in his mind.

Baekhyun dreams of you. He dreams of you sucking him off in his car. Your mouth choking on his dick while you massage his balls. You sucked him off until he came and swallowed all his cum.

He wakes up with a jolt and realized he had a wet dream about you. He stares at the clock and realizes it was already noon, good thing he doesn’t have classes today. He stands up and showers. Thoughts of you still running in his mind. His body instantly reacting to the thoughts of you. As if his body has a mind of its own, he reaches for his member and strokes it.

You were naked and on all fours. You were so wet for him. Baekhyun inserts two of his fingers at once in your pussy. You moan out his name. Once you were fully prepared for him, he slams his dick inside you. He fucks you hard and fast, the bed creaking as he does so. His hands go to your tits, pinching your hard nipples. One of his hands then travels to your clit while the other continues to play with your boob. You were both nearing your climax. You tell him to cum in you. His thrusts go impossibly faster after you say that. After a few thrusts, your walls clench on his shaft. You felt so good.

He moans out your name as he releases. You were driving him crazy. How was he supposed to face you after he masturbated at the thought of you?

When he finished cleaning and dressing himself up, he goes out of his room to grab something to eat.

“The prince has finally woken up,” Jongdae loudly says.

Baekhyun ignores him. He grabs some ramen from the cupboard and starts heating up some water.

Jongdae takes this opportunity to talk to Baekhyun.

“So, what happened last night?”

Baekhyun sighs, he knows Jongdae won’t leave him alone if he doesn’t start talking.

“Last night, you looked...” Jongdae’s eyes widened at the realization, “I know! I know! You got laid!” He exclaims.

Baekhyun nods in confirmation.

“Wait... You have a new girlfriend?”

“No!”

“But you don’t sleep around!”

“I know! That’s why I don’t know what to do in these situations!”

“You’re too pure,” Jongdae coos.

“Fuck off.”

“So who’s the girl?”

“I’m not sure if you know her. You don’t really interact with sophomores.”

Jongdae gives him a look that screams “So what?”

“She’s Y/N.”

“Y/N? As in Y/L/N Y/N? The one with friends who are always dressed to kill? I’ve worked with her before, we trained together for some Chemistry quiz bee or whatever.”

“She was in your quiz bee team?!”

“Yeah, yeah.” Jongdae casually says. “But isn’t she too... plain for you?” Jongdae knows Baekhyun’s type. He’s been his friend since high school so he’s basically met every single one of Baekhyun’s past lovers. He knows that Baekhyun adores pretty women. Pretty, sexy, slim. Modelesque.

In Jongdae’s eyes, you were very timid. Smart, timid, simple. He has only ever seen you talk so much whenever you’re with your friends. You don’t even talk unless spoken to. You would never make the first move. Could it be? Could it be that Baekhyun made the first move?

“She’s cute okay!” Baekhyun pouts.

“Fine, fine. Geez. So how was it?” Jongdae moves his eyebrows up and down.

“Fuck off Jongdick.” He turns around to continue making his ramen.

Jongdae laughs out loud at Baekhyun’s lame attempt to insult him.

“Guess I’ll find out myself.” He teases.

Baekhyun has never whipped his head so quickly at a statement. “Don’t you dare!”

Jongdae raises his hands as if surrendering, trying to look serious but failing to wipe the smile off his face. It was either (a) the sex you and Baekhyun shared was amazing or (b) Baekhyun’s getting so whipped about you but he’s oblivious about it, Jongdae thought, but he doesn’t say anything.

He lets Baekhyun be, trying to come up with a plan to approach you. He’s free the whole day after all.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

You wake up with a jolt, body feeling sore from yesterday’s activities. The first thing you looked at was your clock. It was 9:00 AM. FUCK, your classes starts at 9:30. You’re going to be late! The ride to your college takes up 20 minutes so you only have 10 minutes to prepare. As much as you wanted to skip shower, you can’t, you were sweaty and sticky. You already know your day is going to go wrong, great, just great.

You try to walk to the bathroom as fast as you can, as fast as anyone can move when their body especially the nether regions is sore. You opt to wear a skirt today, not wanting to go through the pain in wearing jeans. You grab a sweatshirt and put on your shoes and dash outside your house. Disoriented because you were running late, you didn’t even notice the note Baekhyun left on your table.

You ran so fast after paying for the cab, people gave you weird looks. You didn’t care though, afraid you’d get scolded by your professor in Analytical Chemistry. He was old and very strict about time. When someone comes in late, he “targets” them the whole day, asking questions that were far advanced than what should be discussed. It was scary and you don’t need scary today.

You opened the door forcefully and all eyes looked at you. Thank god, your professor wasn’t there yet! You release a breath of relief and sat towards your usual place. Your friends immediately facing you.

“I forgot to set my alarm!” You instantly said before they could ask. It was amusing to them, you were never late.

“It’s okay to be late you know,” Seulgi says.

“And be Mr. Jung’s target? No thanks! I’d rather die.”

Your friends laughed at your exaggeration.

“Look who decided to skip the jeans and finally wear a skirt to class,” Mina notes as she sits beside you. She came in a few minutes after you. She woke up late too but she lives just around the block so she looks a lot less haggard than you did. “You only wear skirts outside the classrom. You look better in it, you should do it more often.”

Before you could respond, all of a sudden Joohyun gasps and your group of friends look at her. “Is that a hickey?” she whisper-yelled while pointing at your neck. All your friends whip their heads to look at you.

Your hands immediately went to cover your neck. “It’s a mosquito bite!”

Of course no one believed your excuse. If you were them, you wouldn’t too. They bombarded you with questions. “Who did it?”, “How was it?”, “Home run?” You were flustered. As if on cue, your professor enters the room. Your friends immediately stopped talking and faced Mr. Jung but not before giving you a look that says “Tell us all about it later.”

You know there was no winning with them. They would tease you all day until you caved in. So you half listened to Mr. Jung’s lecture and half thought of how to tell your friends about it without telling them it was Baekhyun who you slept with.

You didn’t want to dwell so much on Baekhyun because, well, he left before you woke up. And although he had no obligation to stay, you considered him as a friend. And friends talk, right? Just to be clear on how they move forward after that...

You know your friends are crazy about Baekhyun, but quite frankly, they are crazy about all guys who have amazing bodies and stunning smiles like Kim Jongin, Park Chanyeol, even your professors Mr. Kim Junmyeon and Mr. Kim Minseok. You aren’t as vocal as they are but you have to admit, these men have a way of making you feel giddy just by looking at them. If your friends were to know you did it with Baekhyun, they’d be so jealous but they wouldn’t mind. They‘d be supportive. Boys are just boys anyway.

[amimons]

Miraculous Sweet-ember (Sept. 19th)

September 19th: Queen Bee Trilogy (Style Queen, Queen Wasp, Malediktator)

Style Queen introduces Chloe’s mother, Audrey Bourgeois providing us with information on why Chloe is the way she is. Audrey’s appearance causes such a big ruckus. She was a great pawn for Hawkmoth to manipulate due to her temperament. Gabriel made sure she received bad treatment at his fashion show in order to get her fired up. It was pretty easy for him to get her so angry that he can akumatized her, but he underestimated just how angry she would be towards the Agreste family. Since Gabriel was absence from his own fashion show she took her angry out on Adrien, turning him to gold statue; doomed to slowly wither away. This isn’t good because not only does this mean Adrien’s life in in danger but the fight against Style Queen will be taking place without the support of Chat Noir. Ladybug goes to Master Fu after attempting to stop Style Queen only to be greeted by Plagg. Of course Plagg needs to come up with an excuse to why he was not with his holder and why that said holder isn’t transformed as Chat Noir, fighting against Style Queen. It’s a pretty funny excuse that Chat Noir simply lost his miraculous but its not like he can just tell Ladybug that he was actually Adrien Agreste who is currently turning into gold dust.

So Ladybug must chose a different miraculous to help her with the battle picking the bee. We all knew Chloe was going to be the bee holder but it was unexpecting when Ladybug didn’t go to Chloe for help but instead chose to go to Alya, attempting to give her the miraculous before losing it. I took this as the universe interfering to get the miraculous to the right person and that only specific types of people belong with a specific miraculous. Still alone, Ladybug must try to defeat Style Queen but it is a difficult battle and without the aid of her partner. With him she cannot fully enact a plan. But then Plagg steps in. Without a holder to contain his power, Plagg is pulling a risky move but it was what was needed to be done to save Ladybug. Plagg let out a massive wave of destruction that Ladybug had to immediately purify. It is crucial for the cat miraculous to work with the ladybug one.  We see why balance between the two miraculous is important with Plagg having more power than Ladybug and with Ladybug needing the power of destruction to help defeat Style Queen and restore Paris. 

Queen Wasp is Chloe’s second akumatized form and her first time with a miraculous. After Tikki informs Marinette that her purification did not return the bee miraculous back to the miracle box, she was in a panic that she lost the miraculous for good. Before she can go out and retrieve it she is ushered back into the fashion show to watch it finish up. At the end of the show Audrey Bourgeois praises’ Marinette design for the Agreste brand an saids she wants to take her to New York with her as an apprentice. Chloe gets extremely hurt by this. Not only does she feel like she isn’t up to her mother’s standards, her own class nemesis was invited to go live in New York with her own Mother (and to add salt on the wound Audrey never took Chloe to New York before). Chloe then reveals the bee miraculous which she had found on the Eiffel Tower and transforms herself into Queen Bee right in front of everyone. Adrien and Marinette had to hold their tongues before rushing after Chloe in their supersuits. 

Chloe, now presenting herself as Queen Bee is trying to prove to her mother that she is an exceptional person and her best solution was to ‘save’ people as a super hero. Since there was no danger, she chose to sabotage the subway train to create a situation for her to save. Chloe of course was reprimanded by Ladybug for using the miraculous for her own gain and told her she was not a hero. This causes Chloe to run off with miraculous leaving her alone with her emotions making her susceptible to get akumatized. Chloe went to great lengths just so she can feel seen by her mother. It was a side of Chloe that we’ve never seen before. After Queen Wasp gets defeated, it was then our heroes instead of humiliating Chloe offer kind words to her. Seeing Chat bend down to get to Chloe’s level, a troubled childhood friend of his, to comfort her and tell her he understands she was doing this to impress her mother was very sweet. I love what Ladybug saids to Chloe especially when you think about the fact that is Marinette saying those things. Letting Chloe know that everyone makes mistakes including heroes what matters is how you fix those mistakes. Ladybug encourages Chloe to act like a hero and fix her mistakes by returning the miraculous back to her. So Chloe showing the most maturity she has ever show handed back the miraculous. 

Malediktator is the episode where Chloe is granted the bee miraculous by Ladybug. This is one of my favorite moments of the whole series. After being ridiculed by her class when she showed them her fake documentary about Queen Bee and Ladybug Chloe decides she wants to return to New York with her mother. Chloe’s father is pained by Chloe’s threat to leave Paris forever that he gets akumatized. He has to power to control authority over people and was targeting Chloe to force her to stay in Paris. Because of his ability (and Chat succumbing to his powers) Ladybug needed the assistance of the bee miraculous and this time she planned to give the miraculous to Chloe. Before receiving the miraculous, we get such a tender moment between Ladybug and Chloe where Chloe breaks down and reveals her own inner turmoils and emotions. 

Chloe is a kid that is believed to have everything because of her father but her father cannot buy her a sincere relationship with her classmates. Although Chloe tried to deflect fault when Ladybug first asked Chloe why her father got akumatized she admits that even though she feels like her classmates (especially Marinette) are mean to her that she is to blame for all this. Admitting her mistakes is not one of Chloe’s strong suits but Ladybug was so kind and encouraging with Chloe that she felt comfortable being vulnerable around her. This is also a big moment for Marinette because she never had the opportunity to see Chloe open up about her feelings before. The fact that Marinette could put aside their bad blood and see Chloe as someone else other than the girl that has been causing her trouble for a long time was very mature. And Marinette was willing to help her just like she is with everybody. She never dismissed Chloe’s feelings and prioritized her own feelings over Chloes. And Chloe was willing to hear that she made a mistake and admit to that mistake to help her father. It was a very touching scene between Ladybug and Chloe and appreciate that the writers dedicated the time for this moment to happen. 

About Sweet-ember:

For the month of September I wanted to spread some positivity and praise Miraculous Ladybug on the things I’ve appreciated/enjoyed from the show.

Everyday I’m going to select one particular moment, event, theme, etc. from an episode of Miraculous and shared what I liked from that episode. Each post will discuss 2-3 episodes (from season 1-3; 78 episodes in total).

Whether its something big or small there is something positive that I can take away from every single episode of Miraculous.

Please feel free to add a moment from these particular episodes that you loved to this post as well!

Salt towards the show, characters, ships will not be tolerated!

Sweet-ember posts

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] [13] [14] [15] [16] [17]

[18] [19] [20] [21] [22] [23] [24] [25] [26] [27] [28] [29] [30] [31]

[heart-inked]

Warning: really long post I made because I’m bored, if you’re not bored you’re allowed to skip.

BOLD WHAT APPLIES TO YOU

You are female

You received a gift on Valentine’s Day

You have been hit on at work

You have watched someone shoplift

You have eaten simply out of boredom

You are ticklish

You have thrown up in a public place

You had something remind you of your ex that made you miss them

You have been out of the country within the last six months

You have been a designated driver

You have played spin the bottle

You have played strip poker

You have been skinny dipping

You have been TP’d

You have been in a cemetery at midnight

You have made a prank phone call

You have pretended to be your mom/dad on the phone

You have snuck into a movie without paying

You have stolen a street sign of some sort

You have been to Walmart in the past 24 hours

You drive a blue vehicle

You have a some point in time had blonde highlights

You have liked someone and never told them

You have told someone you liked them and was rejected

You have been liked someone you didn’t expect

Your parents are divorced

Both or one of your parents are now married to different people

Your grandma is over 80

You have a tattoo most people don’t know about

You have a tattoo

You have a tramp stamp

You have a tribal tattoo

You have piercings other than your ears

You have your nose pierced

You have your belly button pierced

You have a Monroe piercing

You have gauges that stretch your ear lobes - not anymore but I used to

You have had a crush on a sibling’s friend

You have had a crush on a friend’s sibling

You work 30+ hours a week if school counts towards it

You have received a phone call within the last hour

You were named after someone else

You were born between April & September of your birth year

You were born before 1994

You were born before 1990

You were born before 1986

Your last name has more than five letters

Your last name begins with a ‘C’

Your last name begins with an ‘L’

Your last name begins with an ‘S’

Your middle name begins with a ‘N’

Your middle name begins with an ‘R’

Your middle name begins with a ‘D’

Your first name begins with a ‘B’

Your first name begins with a ‘H’

Your first name begins with a ‘Z’

You prefer taking showers to taking baths

You haven taken a foreign language class

You have taken an art class

You have taken a music class

You own a denim jacket

You own a pair of skinny jeans

You own something tie dyed

You own a ‘little black dress’

You have had to have your pet put to sleep

You know someone who had a late miscarriage

You know someone under 20 who passed away from cancer

You know someone with an eating disorder

You know someone who cuts

You have had your hair down to your waist

You have shaved your head

You have had a mohawk

You have dyed your hair blue

You would get your nipples pierced for $100

You would kiss someone 20 years older than you for $50

You would drink a bottle of hot sauce for $20

You have gone to a dance without a date

You know five people under twenty with children

You have considered joining the military

You are in the military

You are out of high school

You are an Aries

You are a Saggittarius

You are a Pisces

You can tie a cherry stem in a knot with your tongue

You have dated someone who had a child

You have dated someone five year younger than you

You have dated someone five years older than you

You have dated a friend’s ex

You have been in a relationship longer than three years

You are currently single

You are currently engaged

You have kissed someone last New Years

You have worked on a Christmas Eve

You have worked 3rd shift

Your school mascot is an animal

You are wearing something red

You have been to the doctor in the past 3 months

You have been cheated on

You have been told you have beautiful eyes

You have burned yourself with a curling iron/straightner

You have gotten the urge to cry at a random moment

You know how to cook well

You hate having to get up any earlier than noon

You are a night owl

You are a morning person

You have flashed someone

You have an older brother

You have a younger sister

You have a half sibling

You know sign language

You have been to Chicago

You have been to Las Vegas

You have been to Miami

You live in Arkansas

You live in Texas

You have ridden in a small vehicle with 10+ people crammed in it

You have been somewhere and had your ride leave without you

You have accepted a ride home from someone you barely knew

You were in a relationship at this time one year ago

You were in a relationship six months ago

You were in a relationship one month ago

You have bought helium balloons just to make funny noises with them

You have gotten a speeding ticket

You own a t-shirt that supports your favorite band

You have won free tickets to a concert

You have won money from scratch-off cards

You have bought cigarettes when you were underage

You use hairspray daily

You have argued with someone today

You believe in love at first sight

You are a vegan

You have played with an Ouija board

You have visited somewhere said to be ‘haunted’

You drive a vehicle newer than 2006

You own a digital camera

You have taken photographs of yourself simply because you were bored

If you could you’d spend a week in the 1920s

You would rather vacation over a ski resort than a beach house

You have been on a cruise in the Carribean

You are lactose intolerant

You sunburn easily

You have freckles

You have a birthmark

You have questioned your beliefs

You have questioned your sexuality

You are emancipated from your parents

You live on your own

You live with your boyfriend/girlfriend

You live with at least 3 roommates

Your mom was a teen when she had you

You are adopted

You have considered adoption in your future

You want more than four kids

You don’t want any kids

You have children already

You model your life after someone you look up to

You have had a crush on a celebrity

You still have beanie babies from when it was all rage

You watch a certain TV show regularly

You know the Lord’s Prayer by heart

You didn’t pass the first time you took your drivers test

You remember exactly where you were and what you were doing on 9/11

You have had a detention

You know how to knit

You can drive a stick shift

You have broke a curfew

You have graffiti-ed something

You own an umbrella

You are dating the last person you kissed

You have kissed someone in the last 24 hours

You have kissed more than 3 people in the last year

Your last missed call was from a relative

You have driven somewhere today

You know someone who works at McDonalds

You are diabetic

You are hypoglemic

You wear glasses/contacts

You have braces

You are pregnant

You are wearing shorts

You are wearing at least three pieces of jewelry

You have let someone use you, even when you knew they were

You have done something you really regret

You have told someone something you really wish you could take back

You have done something that ruined a friendship

You are on non-speaking terms with a relative

You have taken back an ex

You have dumped someone and later thought if it was the right thing

You have broken someone’s heart

You have had your heart broken

You have ignored someone who liked you in favor of someone you liked more

You have been hit on by the same sex

You prefer a hook up with no strings attached over a relationship

You have received a love letter

You have had a secret admirer

You know someone with the same birthday as you

You know someone with the same birth year as you

You have been told you look like a certain celebrity

You are taller than your mom

You are taller than your dad

You are a legal adult

Your favorite season is Winter

Your favorite color is green

Your favorite number is 7

Your favorite animal is a panda

You saw your favorite movie in theaters

You have been to a concert of your favorite band

You have a cold at the moment

You have visited all 50 states

You have walked around town after midnight

You have been stuck on a ferris wheel when it started raining

You have been in a tornado

You have been in a hurricane

You have thrown up in a restaurant

You couldn’t live without caffeine

You have been to the emergency room more than 5 times

You have slept more than 24 hours in one sleep session

You have received a compliment today

You have given someone a false number so they couldn’t call you

You have convinced someone you had a twin

You have convinced someone you had a sibling that didn’t really exist

You have gotten in the car and drove somewhere with no destination in mind

You have taken the long way home just so that you could jam out to some tunes

You have considered taking up a hippie-care-free lifestyle

You have seriously considered legally changing your name

You have walked around in your underwear while you were home alone

You have gambled online

You have fallen for someone you told yourself you wouldn’t fall for

You have smoked a whole pack of cigarettes in a matter of hours

You have drank so much you blacked out

You have been bit by a snake

You have been bit by a dog

You wish at 11:11

You have found a four leaf clover

You pick up pennies for good luck

You don’t really believe in luck

You have remained good friends with an ex

You have been a flower girl/ring bearer at a wedding

You have been a best man/maid of honor at a wedding

You have been to a funeral this year

You have been to a baby shower this year

You have been to a bachelor/bachelorette party this year

You have been to a 21st party this year

You have been to a graduation party this year

You have been to a going away party this year

You love the smell of fresh cut grass

You have seen a sunset and stayed awake to see the sunrise

You have borrowed someone’s coat/sweater and forgot to give it back

You have used an excuse (cold, scared, etc) to get to cuddle with someone

You have died in a dream

You have gotten a call from someone and wondered how they got your number

You have laughed out loud to something you were thinking of

You have gotten lost and ended up in a completely different destination

You have run out of gas before

You have done something just because you knew you weren’t supposed to

You have been grounded for longer than a month

You receive an allowance

You have babysat more than one child under 10 at a time

You have called in sick to work because you had a hangover

You have stared at the dots on your ceiling and saw pictures of them

You have stayed longer than 3 days in the hospital (psychiatric)

You have pretended to be someone you weren’t for someone else

You have danced in front of the mirror in private

You have dialed a wrong number and it turned out to be someone you knew

You have been to the Atlantic ocean

You have told someone you were fine when you weren’t

You have copied someone else’s work

You have read an entire book in one sitting

You have spent more than $100 on one pair of jeans

You have taken gymnastics

You have taken a karate class

You have written something on a dollar bill

You have eaten peanut butter right out of the jar

You feel like you have no life because you completed this

[annabelleb49]

New Kid- Chapter 1

Rafael Barba x Reader

Some background info: This is set in whatever years Barba would have been in HS. Late 1980s? Location is Washington D.C.

Notes: This is the writers first time writing fan fiction, and first time using tumblr at all. I may do poorly and mess up, and so I apologize in advance :/ Please don’t hesitate to leave feedback. The writer has also not lived through the 80s so please excuse any historical inaccuracies. Also, there’s the issue of smut. ;) Smut is fun to read but I don’t know how I feel about writing it...so uh, let me know in the comments what you think.

Chapter 1: And so everything begins

You were bent over tying your converse shoes up as you got ready to leave home and go to school. It was the second quarter of junior year, so school was tough and starting to really kick your ass. It was 7:15 and you were exhausted, as always, dreading the multiple exams you would have to take that day, everyday. With no energy left due to school and extracurriculars taking its toll, you were just dressed in a simple gray sweater and denim jeans. Who cares what you looked like, half the kids at school dressed the same way. Your high school was known for its academic rigor so everyone was just as tired as you.

“Y/N, lets get going!” Your dad yelled from the garage. You stood up, slipped on your backpack, filled with heavy binders and notebooks, and grabbed your lunchbox. As much of a hassle it was to pack your own lunch, you were not going to subject yourself to eat the so called “food” your school cafeteria served. You shuffled your way to the garage and got into the car with your dad. 

“So, you ready for school?” Your dad asked you as he pulled out of the driveway. 

You rolled your eyes. “You ask me that every morning, dad. And the answer is always of course not.” 

Your dad laughed. “Well it’s the thought that matters? Don’t forget tonight we need to go driving together, you only need a few more hours until you can test for your license!” You nodded your head, you couldn’t wait until you could get your license and drive yourself to school, to the mall, to everywhere. Freedom, oh what a dream!

15 minutes later you arrived at school and hopped out of the car. There was still 30 minutes until class started, but you liked to get there early enough to meet with your friends and either hangout or cram together for any upcoming tests. As you walked up the steps to the main door, you saw a boy standing, staring at the school, dressed in dark pants and a black turtleneck covered in a grey jacket. Oddly formal for school, you thought. As you neared him, you noticed his worried and confused expression, and in his hands he clutched a paper schedule and a map of the school. Ah, a new kid, you thought. 

“Are you ok?” You asked him. 

He turned to look at you and smiled timidly. “Uh yeah, I’m just new and this is my first day.” He turned back to study his schedule and map. 

You knew what it was like to be a new kid. You continued, “Well, there’s still 30 minutes left until class so, um.. I can take you around the school to help you find your classes right now. If you’d like, of course.” You smiled at him. 

He turned towards you again and smiled, this time a brighter smile that reached his eyes. “Really? I don’t want to inconvenience you or anything...”

“It’s really no problem. I’ve moved a few times before and I know how hard it can be. So, what’s your name?” You sympathized with him.

“Rafael.” He responded.

“Well, Rafael, my name’s Y/N. Nice to meet you.” Rafael. You really liked that name. It rolled across your tongue so nicely.

He handed you his schedule and you skimmed it quickly. 

***Rafael’s schedule:  Barba, Rafael. Grade 11

1) AP Language & Composition 2) Journalism  3) AP Spanish 4) AB Calculus  5) AP US History 6) Speech & Debate 7) Physics Honors

Odd days: A Lunch Even Days: B Lunch

“Oh, you’re a junior too! This is is what they call ‘hell-year’ because it’s so hard, especially at this school. It’s really kicking my ass, I have to admit.” You looked over his classes. “Damn, you’re taking AP Spanish? You must be really good.”

He smiled sheepishly. “Well, I’m a native speaker. I’m Cuban, you see.”

You looked at him with wide eyes. “You’re Cuban, as in from Cuba? Did you just move from Cuba?”

Rafael laughed. “No, I’m ‘Cuban-American’, more specifically. I was born here. I moved here from New York.” 

You nodded your head. “From big apple to the capital of the country. Welcome to DC, I guess. I hope it compares with New York.” You continued looking over his schedule, noting that you two had multiple classes together. 

“Guess what? We have quite a few classes together! We have English, journalism, math, and history together. And we’ve got the same lunch on both days!” You exclaimed, eyes lighting up. Perhaps this was the start of a friendship? But as soon as you thought of that, you mentally kicked yourself. He’s new and you can’t seem overly pushy and excited right away. Maybe you two wouldn’t even get along. You were only showing him around the school, right?

***Your schedule:

Y/L/N, Y/F/N. Grade 11

1) AP Language & Composition 2) Journalism  3) Physics honors 4) AB Calculus  5) AP US History 6) Chinese 3 7) AP Computer Science

Odd days: A Lunch Even days: B Lunch

You walked into the building together and led him to all his classes, explaining which hallways were dedicated to which subjects. You also explained how the bell schedule worked: There were even and odd days, each class was 90 minutes. However, everyday you would have period 3, only, it would be 60 minutes to make up for the fact it was everyday. Other than that, periods were matched up with even or odd days, depending on if it was an even or odd number. It was a quick tour, and by the time you finished, there was still 15 minutes until class started. 

“Hey, Rafael, do you want to come meet my friends? There’s still time until class starts, and since we’re in the same first period, we can walk there together.” You fumbled with your hands, nervous as you didn’t want to seem too invasive or too welcoming, if that was even a thing. You simply knew what it was like to be in his shoes and wanted to help out as much as you could.

Rafael seemed happy to oblige, however. And was that relief you saw across his face for a split second? So, you walked him to one of the common areas where your friend group always hung out at every morning. There were 9 of you: 5 girls and 4 guys. Rafael would even it out if he joined your friend group, you noted. 

***Your friend group:  Y/N, Hannah, Avery, Zadie, Nicole, Nick, Peter, Joseph, Bobby.

“Hey guys, this is Rafael and he’s new here. You all ok with him hanging out with us? He’s got a bunch of classes with us too.” You introduced him to your friends. You and your friends were what you considered normal-smart kids. Not conventionally popular, but not eccentric either. Just really normal, hard working and got along with everyone. But then again, your school didn’t really have those movie style cliques. Most people were normal and didn’t really pay attention to popularity. 

“Yeah no problem, welcome to the school, Rafael! Come sit down with us.” Avery spoke up, and the rest of the group chimed in their welcomes. And so, Rafael settled down with you and felt thankful someone had welcomed him. Maybe being the new kid at this school wouldn’t be as lonely as he as anticipated.

~~~~~

The morning zoomed by and it was already lunch time. You remembered that Rafael had the same lunch as you, and you told him to look for you at lunch. You sat at a table in the middle of the cafeteria with 5 of your friends from your friend group and a cluster of other people who you were friends with, but not as close. You sat down and looked around the cafeteria. You spotted Rafael, head held high as his eyes scanned the room. You smiled inwardly, happy at the thought he had remembered you and was looking for you. You waved your hand and caught his attention, and he walked over and sat down across from you. 

“Hey guys, you remember Rafael?” You said to your five close friends. And to the rest of the table you announced, “This is Rafael, he’s new and is joining us for lunch today.” You made sure to add the “today” because you didn’t want to pressure him into sitting with you everyday or joining your friend group. It was ultimately up to him, and who knows, he might find other friends he’d rather hangout with. However, Rafael had noticed and suddenly worried if he was really welcome to join your friend group or if you were just being nice for this one day... In truth, he really liked you and your friends and felt he fit in nicely. Everyone at the table said their hellos and you started chatting with Rafael. 

“So how was your day so far? I hope people have been nice. There aren’t really any stereotypical bullies or mean girls here.” You said over a bite of your sandwich.

Rafael smiled. You were right, compared to the movies and other schools he had been in, people here were much nicer and there didn’t seem to be much of a bullying problem. “Pretty good. I mean, English was nice with you and Avery and Joseph, and AP Spanish was easy-peasy. As soon as people found out I was fluent they all seemed shocked. I guess I don’t look like Hollywood’s version of a Latino.” He laughed.

He was right. With his light brown hair and green eyes, one wouldn’t associate him with Cuba or even Latin America in general, thanks to Hollywood and America’s stereotypes. “I’m glad everything is running smoothly.” You replied. Then you narrowed your eyes. “If anyone gives you any trouble, call me and I’ll knock the wind out of them with my kindergarten tae-kwon-do experience.” You said and mimed a weak punch, chuckling. 

“Thanks, I appreciate it.” He said back, laughing. He opened his lunch and you were impressed. It was a pork dish and it smelled amazing. 

“Wow that looks really good. What is it?” You said, munching on some apple slices.

“Thanks, it’s lechon con moros- roasted pork. A classic Cuban dish. My mom made it for me specially for my first day of school.” He explained as he dug in. “I can’t eat it too often though, or else I’d be starring on the next episode of My 600 Pound Life!” He said, eyes twinkling. 

The rest of lunch went by smoothly, Rafael, you, and the rest of the table talking and laughing. You noticed how he fit in immediately, chatting away as if you were all old friends. The lunch bell rang and you all stood up to rush to next period. You had history with Hannah and Bobby, and now Rafael, so the four of you walked to class together from the cafeteria. 

You walked into AP US History and sat down at your usual table. The class was taught by Mr. Yamamoto, one of the nicest teachers in the entire school so he let everyone choose their own seats. Rafael joined your table, consisting of you, Hannah, Bobby, and two more people who you didn’t really know too well. 

Mr. Yamamoto took attendance and then smiled. “Alright class, if you haven’t noticed, today we have a new student. Would you like to introduce yourself?” 

Rafael looked a little nervous, but you glanced at him and nodded your head supportively. He stood up and introduced himself to the class. “Hi, I’m Rafael and I just moved from the Bronx in New York.” He sat down again.

Mr. Yamamoto instructed to class to say welcome, and then proceeded to begin the lesson. “Thank you Rafael, I hope you enjoy my class. Now moving on to today’s lesson. We will be starting the unit on the Revolutionary War. This unit is especially fun for me because one of the most famous battles- the Battle of Gettysburg, happened where I was born and raised- Gettysburg, Pennsylvania!”

As Mr. Yamamoto began passing out notes, Rafael whispered to you, “It’s always so nerve-wracking when teachers make you introduce yourself. I’ve had to do that in all my classes so far except English.” He looked exasperated. 

You grinned. “Don’t worry, I think you did fine. Plus, you’re just practicing your speaking skills to become the next President of America!” You said jokingly, nudging him in the arm. 

Rafael smiled back, but you noticed he looked a little sad as you made the joke about him becoming president. You began to overthink that joke, hoping you hadn’t ruined anything between you two. 

The rest of class consisted of Mr. Yamamoto lecturing and then you working with your table to do research with big textbooks. The bell rang and everyone stood up to go to last period. You realized that you and Rafael didn’t have any classes together for the rest of the day, and said goodbye to him. 

“It was really nice meeting you, Rafael. We meet at the same common area every morning, so if you want to join us tomorrow, feel free to. If you want to though, no pressure or anything..” You said, still trying to not sound too pushy. 

“I’d love to, Y/N. Also..thanks for everything today. I really appreciate you, um, welcoming me and stuff. It was really nice.” He said shyly. 

You considered asking for his phone number to keep in touch. “Rafael-” you began. But then you thought better of yourself. You’d only known each other the first day. He would probably think you were weird if you asked for his contact info right away. This could wait for later, when- if, he became a close friend. “Um, nevermind. See you tomorrow!” You cut yourself off and waved goodbye to him and your other friends. 

You went home and continued the same routine as always. Start the grueling homework, then rush to whatever extracurricular there was that day, then rush back home and continue working. Then dinner, more studying, and finally showering and getting ready for bed. Your bedtime varied day to day, but the result in the morning was always the same. Exhaustion and feeling like you weighed a ton of bricks as you got up from bed. As you settled in for bed that night, you replayed the day. Meeting Rafael at the front of the school, showing him his classes, having class with him and lunch, and saying goodbye. He seemed so sweet and nice and seemed to fit in right away. You sent a tiny prayer up that Rafael liked you and your friends and would join your friend group. However, you, being a pessimist sometimes, couldn’t stop a pit feeling that he might not like you and would stop hanging around you as he met more people. Little did you know, this was not the case.

A girl can wish, right?

~

Author’s note: Well damn this ended up being longer than I expected. I hope this actually gets noticed by people and not end up unnoticed in some dark hole in Tumblr. As the mc said, a girl can wish, right?

[spencerreidsthings]

Dorm Room Drama

Masterlist

    Here is another series for you all! Very different from Serial Killer Spencer. I’m thinking 3rd or 4th season Spencer, but you can go with whichever season you love most. Let me know what you think and if you wanna see the next part. 

Description: Cassie and Spencer have only been dating for a little bit, but are brought closer together through the investigation of murders that occur on the local college campus. It’s a struggle to keep their relationship on the DL when she is such a vital part of the investigation.

  Cassie had met Spencer when he gave a guest lecture in her communications class. They hit it off pretty quickly after that. She saw him after his lecture trying to find someplace to sit in the lunchroom and offered a chair. They talked for two hours before he had to get back to work. Spencer Reid is the smartest man she’s met, and she was fascinated. Especially considering how young he is and it showed when they texted or were alone. His guard came down around her.

It was a Wednesday, which meant that her morning class was communications and since his paperwork was done he was rapidly texting her statistics because he missed her. He continued to text her communication statistics until they abruptly stopped which let her know that they had a case. Communications had ended and she had three hours until her next class and after talking to Spencer through the night she planned to take a nice nap.

She was just about to crawl into bed when there was a firm knock on the door. It seemed urgent so she answered it without putting on pants figuring it was one of the girls on the floor. It was surprising to see Spencer his team standing on the other side of the door.

            “Hi…” She hesitated

            “Hi, I’m agent Hotchner, this is agent Morgan and Prentiss. Forensic analyst Garcia and Dr. Reid. We are with the behavioral analysis unit at the FBI, can we come it?”

            They stepped past her and spencer eyeballed her as he came through the door. She raised her eyebrows, but he just shook his head. “There have been killings happening on this campus, are you aware of this?” Hotch asked with zero emotion. The team was setting their things up and looking through the windows.

            “Well yeah. I lost my roommates to the killer.”

            “Is that why your room is so big?” Prentiss asked moving to stand next to her.

            “Yeah. The is a triple room and university is letting me stay the rest of the year without paying or new roommates because they don’t want me to sue.” Reid stopped moving and stared at Cassie with an unreadable expression.

            “Why didn’t the killer kill you? Why just your roommates?” Hotch abruptly asked Cassie much to the shock of everyone in the room.

            “Excuse me?” Cassie Sassed, “How could you ask me that?”

            “It’s a simple question. Why didn’t the killer wait the extra ten minutes for you to arrive home and kill all three of you? Why did you get away unharmed?” He raised his voice through the statement.

            “Hotch, enough. Leave the girl alone.” Prentiss came to her rescue and took her aside. “We’re going to need to ask you some questions, but first we need to set up base here. Your dorm is a crime scene but also overlooks his usual killing spot. The university okayed it and are willing to give you another room for the time being, but you’re more than welcome to stay as well.”

            They had gotten their equipment set up while Morgan and Hotch lofted the other beds. Cassie hung her hammocks underneath for extra sleeping room. “We really appreciate you opening up your space to us. And if you need anything just let up know.” Prentiss told Cassie.

            “Yeah, same to you” The girl replied reluctantly.

            “Reid said he gave a guest lecture in your class 2 months ago,” Morgan stated his question

            “Yeah, interpersonal communications. It was a great lecture. He told us how to tell when someone is hiding something. He used some cocky asshole as an example. He was actually arrested for non-consensual sex.” Cassie roamed the room while talking. She seemed to be gathering an abundance of books and folders. “So, I have two extra desks and bookshelves. Fight among yourselves for those. The rest of you will have to work on the floor.” She was trying to be a good host despite the situation and didn’t really mind opening up her space to them. They watched her fly around the room gathering things. First, her backpack, then back for water, then again for gum. In the midst of all her running around, she paused in the middle of the room and looked at the bare beds. “I have sheets” she announced and grabbed her desk chair. Spencer stiffened when she climbed onto the spinning chair. He was certain she would fall. Morgan noticed the change in behavior but didn’t mention it.

            Once the sheets were thrown in piles on the beds and blankets on the floor next to the hammocks, Cassie sat at her desk to work. Garcia took one of the empty ones next to her to set up her plethora of electronics and Spencer sat on top of the other one. He crossed his legs and spread out enough to be in Cassie’s personal space. They looked at each other. The fear Cassie was feeling melted away. Fear of the killer. Fear of the team finding them out. He took away the fear, but he was still worried. It wouldn’t be the end of the world if they found out, but it still wouldn’t be good. Especially given that she’s a witness on the case.

            “Alright, Cassie. We need to ask you some questions. Is that okay?” Hotch asked approaching her desk.

            She raised her eyebrows and looked at the man with big eyes. “Right now?” She asked quietly “I kind of have homework.”

            “You think your homework is more important than this case?” Hotch asked

            “Well, no… but, I uh… my class is in two hours and I haven’t done the homework” The girl stuttered and tried to shrink her body down.

            “god, Hotch, leave her alone” Spencer defended. The whole team looked over and observed. Reid was having a staredown with Hotch and Cassie couldn’t take her eyes off Reid.

            “Oh, shit.” She mumbled looking at her watch. “I didn’t realize the time. I’m gonna be late for class.” The girl was out of the room before anyone could question her previous statement about time. She left holding her shoes in one hand and her jacket in the other.

            “Why are you being just a hardass?” Reid accused

            “Excuse me?”

            “She doesn’t have a class for two hours. She left to get away from you.” Reid spoke without getting up from his position. He didn’t feel as though Hotch deserved the extra effort. He was steaming with irritation at the way Cassie was being treated and wanted nothing more than to make it better.

            “How do you know that?” Someone asked him and he sighed

            “Her interpersonal communications class met today until 11:35. Her next class doesn’t start till 3:30.” Reid spoke with an unwavering voice thinking about the long lunch the two of them had when they met.

            “How do you know that, Reid?” Morgan asked

            “After I gave the lecture in her class, I went to eat lunch and she let me sit with her. We talked for three hours and I helped her study for her communications test. When I realized that I had to get back I apologized for taking so much of her time and she said it wasn’t a big deal because her class didn’t start until 3:30” Reid continued to talk dismissively while looking over the case file. He was subconsciously trying to draw attention away from him and the Cassie situation, but only making it worse.

            “You talked with the prime witness on this case and didn’t think to tell anyone?” Prentiss accused finally drawing Spencer’s eyes away from the file.

            “I didn’t think it was necessary, we only talked about communications.” Spencer lied easily. He wasn’t going to tell them that they talked about school, life, love, their favorite everything. They talked about everything and he fell in love with her.

            “Didn’t think it was necessary!” Prentiss exclaimed. “Reid, that is totally breaking protocol. You know that.”

            “Seriously, Reid. Why didn’t you tell us?” Morgan tacked his question right after Prentiss. The two agents unknowing making him feel attacked. 

            “I don’t know. I didn’t think it was necessary. We only just got the case, and it wasn’t active when we met. It’s not a big deal and I’m not breaking her trust” Reid was standing now and overly irritated. Out of everything he and Cassie talked about he distinctly remembered that she takes trust seriously. He wasn’t going to break it because he wanted this relationship to last.

            “ Reid, I understand the trust issue, but we need to know everything you two talked about. You never know what might be crucial to the case.” Hotch demanded to make him seem even more like a hardass. Spencer was becoming exasperated and was worried about blowing up in front of the team.

“I’m going to take a walk. I’ll be right back.” He mumbled and walked out the door in a similar fashion as Cassie did only a few minutes before. And he was headed to the exact same place. He found her lying on the couch in the lounge with her eyes closed. He knew she would be here sleeping because she stresses that her afternoon nap was vital to her day. She was curled into herself with her jacket over her lower body. She was already asleep, so he just snuck next to her on the couch and held her close. “I’m sorry, Cassie.” He whispered to the sleeping girl and let his head fall to the pillow and he soon fell asleep. The pair slept for an hour and a half before her phone alarm woke them both up. She turned it off, realized that she was in Spencer’s arms, and cuddled back into them.

[nothoughtsjust-vibes]

I started Twilight for the thousandth time because I hate myself and this time I recorded most of my thoughts and, since I have no one irl, I have To shout them into the Void

1. Why is all the dialogue so cringey?

2. Why would she remember her favorite dessert at a rando diner when she hasn’t been there in several years?

3. The coloring is just so blue

4. Why does she look SO PALE?! Is it because K Stew was actually supes pale or because the director wanted her to look vampiric?

5. Why does Bella sound like she’s gonna cry when she implies that the guys at school are sexually harassing her? Could it be BECAUSE THEY WERE DOING THAT?!

6. “Things were getting a little strange”? Just because he wasn’t in school? Bitch, you met him once and he was an ass, any sane person would just forget it.

7. “You’re not in Phoenix anymore, Bells”. They don’t have animals in Phoenix?

8. Why is every guy so invested in Bella?

9. Their first convo in class is SO AWKWARD!!! Is that bad directing and writing or is it genius?

10. “Any cold wet thing, I don’t really...” fast forward two years she’s getting dicked down by vampire cock

11. Her telling Edward about her mom and Phil is so awkward. Like, he needs to ask her to explain things that she should know need explaining. “Why’d you move here?” “My mom remarried...” “So, you don’t like the guy?” “No, Phil’s fine....”

12. When there’s a vamp as attractive as Carlisle, why would she ever go for the son?

13. The big question is why would anyone go for Edward when Carlisle is RIGHT THERE!?

14. What I wouldn’t give for a book of Cullen origin stories: Jasper in the Civil War? Alice in the Salem Witch Trials? Rosalie getting epic revenge on her rapists? Carlisle’s everything!? YES PLEASE!!!!!

15. How Edward doesn’t realize breaking into someones room and watching someone when they’re sleeping is fucking creepy, I’ll never know

16. Rosalie shoulda knocked sense into Edward to not be a creeper

17. Bella is supes rude to Mike by just not paying attention when he’s taking to her

18. Jesus, Mike’s eyes are GORGEOUS. Don’t know how I didn’t see that before

19. I would want this guy as my science teacher

20. Has Edward ever talked to a girl outside his family? Like....ever?!

21. You don’t hit a bus door to get the driver to open it. Because of this movie, I did that one time and now I hate teenage me for that

22. WHY IS EVERYONE IN THESE MOVIES SO GODDAMN SKINNY!?!

23. Love that vampires don’t need to eat, but Emmett is eating in a cafeteria scene

24. “If you were smart, you’d stay away from me.” HOW BOUT YOU STAY AWAY FROM HERE DUDE!?! MAYBE STOP GOING INTO HER ROOM AND WATCHING HER SLEEP

25. KrimsonRogue said if you can use anything besides rape, don’t use rape. Maybe SMeyer should’ve heard similar advice and taken it

26. So Jacobs just not gonna introduce his friends?

27. “You caught that, huh?” They were a foot away from her and no one else was talking

28. I remember that in this beach scene, Bella was trying to seduce Jacob into talking. And she was like, 17 and he 15 which, even if not bad with age gap, still creepy. And she’s not good at it. And doesn’t need to do it.

29. Why she shrieking? It’s a goddamn rope he’s chasing her with

30. Why are the villain vamps so goddamn dramatic?

31. Why is Bella’s google searching so instantly effective?

32. Why does she go all the way to Portland to buy one book, flip to one page, take one word from one caption of one illustration, and then never touch the book again?

33. Bella is super not a good travel companion. Why didn’t she just drove her own self to Portland to go to the bookstore?

34. How she get so lost?

35. How did she not answer her cell while her friends were freaking out about where she was?

36. Why are her friends just leaving her with this very strange dude who never interacts with anyone?

37. That first line the waitress delivers to Edward feels like very bad acting.

38. It’s hilarious that corpse feet made her immediately think of Edward

39. How could she just barely graze Edwards fingers with hers and immediately have a shock reaction of “Your hands are so cold”

40. Okay, even with all this “evidence”, no normal person would be like, “Yup yup, he’s a vampire” and then have some dramatic confrontation in the forest during school

41. She just ditches her backpack in the forest. I assume she needs it

42. “Sometime you speak as if you’re from a different time” Bitch, when?

43. These are not normal conversations that happen in these movies

44. Bella is not normal. Dude she’s known for two days says he’s probs gonna kill her and she’s just like “Yeah, cool”

45. Why does he think his sparkle skin is a turn-off? I’d be like, “Hell, yeah, you never need to buy body glitter”

46. How she trust him after, like, two weeks and a couple conversations? I don’t trust people with my FEELINGS after two years, this bitch trusting an admitted murderer with her LIFE after two weeks

47. “I’m not afraid of you. Only afraid of losing you.” EXCUSE ME BITCH WHAT!?!? YOUVE KNOWN HIM TWO WEEKS

48. YOU CANT FALL IN LOVE THAT FAST!!!!!

49. Okay, but why’d Angela say “Oh my god” before Bella even got out of the car? All that she saw was the car drive up and Edward get out

50. Why were people staring? That’s not how high school works. People don’t REALLY give a shit who’s dating who unless they’re queer

51. I get the convo montage is to indicate they’re spending a lot of time together, but they’d have to remember the exact place they left off in the conversation or just have the same conversation over and over

52. Only living on tofu would not keep you strong

53. Okay, that cut of him jumping from the rock and cut to him jumping into the truck bed is very good

54. “Here comes the human”..... WHO SAID THIS LINE!?!? It sounded very happy, BUT THE ONLY TWO WOMEN IN THE ROOM WERE ESME AND ROSALIE AND ROSALIE WAS NOT HAPPY AT ALL AND ESME WASNT SPEAKING

55. If I were in Bella’s position, among other things I woulda done different, I woulda eaten the shit out of that Italian meal the Cullens prepares for me

56. The scene in Edwards bedroom is so goddamn awkward, but I feel like that works since she’s super awkward and he’s a 108 year old virgin who’s never spoken to a girl before her

57. Why she just turn his stereo on without permission?

58. I heard Claire de Lune is like, the most basic piece ever. Writers couldnta been more creative?

59. How is taking her on a tree climbing adventure making her dance?

60. “So, you and Cullen, huh? I don’t like it.” YOU KNOW WHAT MIKE!?! FUCK OFF!!! YOU HAVE NO GODDAMN SAY IN IT

61. What the hell was that twerking to the daughter of the chief while the chief was there?

62. So he’s been watching her sleep for the past couple months. She got there middle of the semester. So around March. A couple months would make it June. HOW LONG IS THIS SCHOOL YEAR!?!

63. Why Edward couldn’t have bounced with Bella before the villain group got there is beyond me.

64. THIS SCENE WHERE BELLA TALKS SHIT TO CHARLIE AND LEAVES THE HOUSE!!!! THIS IS THE PART I HATE THE MOST BECAUSE THERE ARE SO MANY GODDAMN WAYS SHE COULDVE LEFT HOME FOR A COUPLE DAYS!!!! “I’m gonna go stay at Jessica’s house for the weekend” “I’m gonna go to Angela’s house for the weekend” “I wanna take a weekend trip with Jessica” “I wanna go visit Mom for a couple days” LITERALLY ANYTHING EXCEPT THAT WOULDA WORKED THERE WAS NO GOOD REASON FOR HER TO HURT HIS FEELINGS LIKE THAT

65. If Rosalie could smell Bella across the field when there was no breeze, why can’t James smell her standing five feet from her?

66. Laurent really didn’t give them any helpful information. James is super dangerous? Yeah, Edward already got that. Victoria is dangerous? Yeah, that’s kinda common sense. Thanks for nothing, you French bastard

67. Man, why the tits did Bella not just tell Alice and Jasper about James supposedly having her mom hostage? Seems like she should trust the group of seven vamps to beat two

68. How did Alice see James going to the ballet studio but not James calling Bella?

69. “I don’t regret the fact that I’m gonna die because at least I got to meet Edward” is what she’s basically saying. As the great Ronald Weasley said, “She needs to sort out her priorities.”

70. The level of dependency Bella exhibits when Edward tells her she has to go to Jacksonville is truly terrifying.

[jungkookiebus]

Coffee Shop (m)

Genre: smut, nonidol!au Word Count: 3.3k Pairing: nonidol!Taehyung x reader Warnings: cunnilingus, semi-exhibitionism (again), unprotected sex (be safe!) Summary: Taehyung has always been this illusive creature that was way out of your league so you settled for staring at him in bio chem. One night at the 24 hour coffee shop that you work at, Taehyung walks in and proves that he’s noticed you more than you thought.  

“Who are you looking at?” Jiwoo asked waving her hand in front of your face.

You were both in your early morning bio chem lecture and you most definitely were zoned out on the lecture and you were most definitely not looking at the professor.

“What?” you asked coming out of your reverie.

“I asked who are you looking at? You’ve been staring wistfully off in that direction for at least fifteen minutes.”

The lecture hall was huge with stadium seating so there was no way that Jiwoo would know exactly who you were looking at.

“I’m not looking at anyone.”

“Bullshit. I know that look. You basically have heart eyes right now. Spill it.”

“kimtaehyung,” you mumbled under your breath.

“What?” she asked leaning closer to your face.

“Kim Taehyung,” you said quietly.

Jiwoo leaned out to look over the heads a few rows down and scanned until she found who she was looking for.

“You mean the super-hot theater nerd that has a thousand friends?” she asked leaning back again.

“The same one.”

“I heard he’s dating Choi Seoyun.”

“Figures. She’s gotten everything she’s wanted since high school.”

“No offense, but I don’t think Kim Taehyung would look twice at either of us.”

“Okay, screw you,” you said feigning hurt.

“If I were him, I would date you, but that’s just me,” she added with a wink. “Maybe you should join theater.”

“Fuck. That,” you said firmly. “I would make a bigger fool of myself.”

“You’re right. I don’t know what to tell you, man.”

“For now, he’s nice to look at.”

_________________________________________

“It’s going to be slow tonight,” Yoongi said beside you while tying his apron.

You were both on the night shift of the 24 hour coffee shop you worked at. Being a university town, the coffee shop was normally busy during exams, but during the regular semester you rarely saw more than five students a night. Friday nights in particular were slow since most students were out partying.

“I brought some homework to work on,” you said straightening out some brochures on the counter.

“Wow, you’re boring.”

“What else would you like to do?” you asked leaning on the counter and putting your hand on your hip. “It’s not like we can clear out the tables and play basketball in here.”

“Wouldn’t that be nice?” he laughed.

You began pulling your books out of your bag and setting them on the counter. You had a clear enough space, a stool, and a good line of vision in case a customer walked in.

“Go play on your DS or something,” you said before jotting down some notes.

He huffed and walked away from you to go do whatever it was Yoongi did while you weren’t busy. A couple of hours later, around 11:30, the chime sounded on the door. You had been so fully immersed in your reading that you hadn’t even heard it, nor did you notice when someone walked up to the counter. That was when you heard a polite cough come from you left. You nearly jumped out of your skin, raking a few cups off the counter and throwing the brochures that you had arranged earlier.

“Shit!” you yelled while clutching your chest. When you looked up your breath caught in your throat. Before you stood none other than Kim Taehyung.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you that badly,” he said while a small smile crept across his face. “But I must say your reaction kind of made my night.”

You felt your face grow hot as you looked down. You really wanted to pass out and die right now. You cleared your throat and stood up from the stool and tried to plaster on your best smile.

“What can I get for you?”

“Uh, can I get some green tea please?” He scratched the back of his neck as if he were antsy. Taking this as a sign that you needed to hurry you immediately sprung into action.

“Yea! Absolutely!” You ran to set some water to boil, while dropping the thermometer you readied the tea to steep once the water got to the perfect temperature. You were trying your best to keep yourself busy, so that you wouldn’t look at him and be forced to make polite conversation. As it was right now, your mouth wanted to blurt out something stupid just to have a reason to talk to him, but you forced yourself to focus on your task at hand. At that moment Yoongi walked to the front from god knows where.

“Everything okay up here?” he asked looking between you and Taehyung.

“I scared the shit out of her,” you heard Taehyung laugh.

“Yea, well, I usually do that as a past time, but it looks like you beat me to it.”

You heard Taehyung laugh out loud this time, loudly.

“I’m fine, Yoongi,” you said bitterly without turning to look at him.

“Well, if you need me, I’ll just be in the back reorganizing everything for the fifth time.”

When you heard the swinging door’s rubber barrier slide across the floor, you grabbed the pot of water and slowly poured it over the tea leaves and set the timer to steep.

“So…,” you heard Taehyung begin.

You turned to see him still standing awkwardly at the counter.

“Yes?” you asked.

“You’re _____, right?”

Your hand slipped off the counter you were leaning on in surprise as you tried to play it off.

“…yes?”

“Bio chem with Kim?” he laughed at his own joke.

How in the hell did he know you had bio chem together? He always sat somewhere in front of you, so it’s not like he had seen you before.

“Yea,” you laughed. “It’s how I like to spend Monday and Wednesday mornings at eight a.m.”

He chuckled again while rearranging the brochures you had previously shuffled in your surprise.

“Listen, this might sound a little strange, but would you want to have some tea with me?”

You were pretty sure your eyes bulged out of your head.

“Right now?”

He looked around the empty café before turning back to you. “I mean, there’s not really anyone in here. Would you be able to? I don’t want to get you in trouble.”

“Uh…I…yea…that’s totally fine! Though I’m a coffee girl really.” You busied yourself to start an Americano before your timer went off. “You can go find a seat if you want! I’ll bring your tea to you.”

Taehyung simply smiled and scanned the café for the perfect spot. Once he had turned away you quickly grabbed your phone to text Jiwoo.

[You]: Bitch!!! Taehyung is in the café and he knows who I am and he just asked me to sit and have tea with him!!!!! The fuck!!!!!!!

[Jiwoo]: Are you fucking kidding me?! Wait, how does he know who you are?

[You]: I’m wondering the same thing. I’ll text you once I find out.

The timer went off for Taehyung’s tea and you carefully took out the infuser. You looked up to see Tae sitting at a table in the far corner of the restaurant. You carried both mugs to the table and set his in front of him.

“Thank you,” he said gratefully as he pulled the steaming mug into his hands.

“I don’t mean to sound rude, but how do you know me?”

Taehyung choked on the tea he had just sipped.

“I’m sorry is it too hot oh my god I fucked up,” you started to ramble.

He held up both hands in surrender while trying to get over his coughing fit. “No, no it’s not that. It’s just why wouldn’t I know you?”

“…what?”

“We have class together.”

Oh. That’s what he was talking about.

“Y-yea. So…do you like bio chem?”

“Hate it.”

You laughed. “So do I. I wouldn’t have taken it if it wasn’t required.”

“Yea your major is pysch, right?”

It was your turn to choke on your drink as Taehyung made a face that read that he had released too much information.

“How did you know what my major is?”

“I, uh, saw your books on the counter when I was ordering.”

You thought back to your homework spread on the counter.

“Oh, shit, yea. I’m sorry. I thought you were psychic or something. Just very observant.”

“You’re funny,” he laughed.

“I’ll be here all night.”

The both of you fell into comfortable conversation with no one entering the café and Yoongi never made an appearance from the store room; he tended to either work on his music in there or take a nap. You were both laughing about something Taehyung had said when he unconsciously laid his hand on top of yours. You both froze as you felt your skin turn red hot under his touch. He quickly pulled his hand away and looked at you uncomfortably.

“I’m really sorry. I’m not sure why I did that.”

You were embarrassed because of course Taehyung wouldn’t be the slightest bit interested in you.

“It’s just,” he began looking away from you. “I’ve kinda had a crush on you for some time now.”

“Excuse me, what?”

“Okay, I shouldn’t have told you that, I’m clearly stepping over a boundary.” Taehyung made to stand up and leave, embarrassed by his confession. You grabbed his wrist before he could go any further.

“No! No, it’s okay, but what about Seoyun?”

He looked at you confused. “Who?”

“Seoyun, the girl…you’re dating?”

“Wait, wait, wait. Choi Seoyun? I most definitely have nothing to do with her. Last I checked she was a stuck up bitch.”

“I always wondered why someone like you would date such a wretched human being, but admittedly, I’ve stared at the back of your head since day one of bio chem.”

“Wow.”

“Oh god, that’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever admitted.”

He laughed as he grabbed your hands from your face. “You’re cute,” he said kneeling down to your level as you sat.

You both stared at each other a second too long, the atmosphere in the café seemed to freeze, and your breathing became shallow. You felt too hot for your own skin and you were highly aware that you were wearing grubby clothes and a coffee stained apron. Before you could take a second breath Taehyung’s lips were on yours. You felt heat flush through your body as his soft lips moved over yours. They were everything you expected and then again, not at all. His hands were warm on your face and his breath quickened with yours. He broke away too soon and looked directly in your eyes.

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” he whispered.

“So did I,” you said before grabbing his head and bringing his lips back to yours.

You both forgot that you were in the café for a few minutes when you heard the heater kick on loudly. You nearly jumped out of your skin at the sound and looked around as if you had just been caught. You grabbed Taehyung’s hand and drug him to a separate store room that wasn’t Yoongi’s napping spot. Once inside, you were both all hands and tongues as he pushed you up against a shelf, causing bags of coffee beans to fall to the floor but you were both too involved with one another to care. You busied yourself by untying your apron and letting it fall to the floor.

Taehyung reached for the hem of your shirt. “May I?”

“Yes,” you answered him breathlessly. He was quick in his movements. He had your shirt over your head in seconds and then his lips were back on yours. He grabbed the hair on the back of your head to bring it back as he kissed along the vein in your neck.

“I’m going to make it so that every time you walk in this room, you’re going to instantly soak your panties.”

“I think they already are.”

He chuckled against your neck as he slowly ran his tongue back to your ear where he brought your earlobe between his teeth. You pressed your chest against his as he moved his mouth down to suck the skin beneath your ear.

“Please,” you whimpered.

“Please what?”

“Touch me.”

Taehyung reached down to unbutton your shorts. “Is this okay?”

“Quit asking me if everything is okay and just do it.”

“As you wish.” Taehyung dropped to his knees and pulled your shorts and underwear down in one go as soon as he had the zipper down. A moan emanated deep from within his chest as soon as you were revealed to him. “Do you know how many times I imagined this when you’d walk into class? It was like you knew I’d be watching you. Except, when I thought of this happening it was more along the lines of having you laid out in my bed while I fucked you until you couldn’t remember your own name. You really are as beautiful as I imagined.”

He started to place soft kisses along your hipbone to your navel before travelling down. He brought his mouth down and you watched as his tongue slowly slid over your clit and in that instant his eyes snapped up to yours. You wanted to pinch yourself or check your temperature to make sure you weren’t having a fever dream; the sight below you was everything you had ever dreamed of. His dark hair was swept off his forehead and his eyes glistened in the overhead fluorescent lights. In was in that instance that you heard the chime from the front door. Taehyung gripped your thighs tighter and continued his assault on your clit.

“T-tae…I have to g-go help,” you whispered.

He pulled back from you to say, “Let Yoongi get it.” before diving back in. This time he sucked your clit into his mouth, eliciting a moan from you when you heard Yoongi greet the customer in the front. Your thighs were incredibly and thoroughly soaked at this point and Taehyung was not letting up. You heard the chime again as the customer left and a very aggravated Yoongi calling out your name.

“Be quiet,” Taehyung whispered heatedly against you.

You clapped your own hand over your mouth to keep from giving yourself away. Yoongi’s footsteps drew closer to the door and you held your breath in anticipation to him opening it.

“Did she really fucking bail?” you heard him grumble before moving away back to where he came from.

At that moment Taehyung stood up and turned you around. “Hands on the shelf.”

You did as you were told and unconsciously spread your legs. Behind you, you heard him unzipping his pants and letting them drop to the floor. He ran his hands down your sides and to your ass where he spread your cheeks, looking.

“Such a pretty ass, but that’s for another day. Can I?” he asked while rubbing his cock in between your legs.

“What did I tell you about asking?” you panted. You were so ready to get fucked that you felt your whole body throbbing.

Without a word, he slid slowly inside of you. You both stifled a moan of satisfaction.

“You’re so fucking tight, ______.”

“Yea, well, it’s been a while,” you tried to joke.

“No one is going to fuck this tight cunt besides me from now on.”

Heat flushed through your body at his words. The prospect of a next time that didn’t involve a store room filled with coffee beans excited you. You felt his breath hot on your neck as he leaned down into you. His strokes inside of you were long and deep; he was taking his time with you. You felt his long fingers travel up your stomach and to your breast where he cupped you lightly before pinching one of your nipples through your bra. Your fingers gripped the shelf in front of you tightly; trying to hold yourself up and keep most of the contents from making noise.

“Do you think Yoongi will hear us?” he whispered in your ear.

“I hope not,” you gasped. His pace inside of you was still too casual. Part of you wanted him to fuck you into next week because that’s what you wanted, and the other part wanted it over so you didn’t get caught with your pants down at work. Something told you that Taehyung liked the excitement of this semi-public tryst. “Do you fuck people at work often?”

He laughed lowly as he took a step back, taking you with him, and never leaving his position inside of you. He ran his hand slowly up your back until you were at a ninety-degree angle, gripping the next shelf down, and grabbed your hips again. He leaned down low over your back to bring his lips to your ear once more. “No, just this girl I’ve been checking out since the beginning of the semester.”

This time his pace quickened. Your ears were filled with his skin hitting your ass at a rapid pace, his heavy breathing, and the roaring silence of the café beyond the door. Taehyung reached around to grab your throat and bring you back up against his chest.

“I can’t wait until I have you writhing beneath me, wrapped up in my sheets, and begging me to stop.” He was trying to get you to come as quickly as possible. He brought his fingers to your clit. “I’m going to taste this sweet pussy of yours and I’ll never be able to come back from it. I have a feeling I’m going to want to be between these legs for quite some time.” Your head fell back against his shoulder as you concentrated on his words, his fingers on your clit, and his heavy cock sliding in and out of you. “Then I’m going to fuck you until those pretty brown eyes roll back in your head. I’m going to find out your every fantasy and play them out for you. I want to worship this body every chance I get.” Your mouth fell open in a silent cry as you clenched hard around him feeling your orgasm as harshly as stepping outside on a hot, summer day. “And then when you think I’m done with you, I’m going to do it all over again.”

He pulled out from you, but held you close as you regained feeling in your legs; wrapping an arm around your waist affectionately. He kissed down your neck and shoulder before letting go to gather your clothes. He sat them on the shelf before pulling up his own pants.

You turned to look at him. “What about you?”

He looked down at his watch. “You get off in, what, an hour?”

You nodded.

“One thing you’ll find out about me,” he said walking up to you and placing a hand on your cheek, “is that not only do I want to make sure you’re satisfied, but I do like to play; you know, edging, overstimulation, and the like. That also means I like it done to myself. Let’s just say I’m saving myself for when you get off work.” He finished his statement with a wink.

You gulped, wondering exactly what he was into, and it also peaked your arousal again.

He kissed you lightly on the forehead. “I’ll meet you here when your shift is over.”

He watched as you dressed and then bid you a good rest of your shift before heading out. Yoongi came out of the other store room, looking aggravated at having to help someone when he heard the chime on the door.

“Where the fuck have you been?” he asked looking you up and down. “And why do you look freshly fucked?”

[soocouldbemyonlystar]

Chaebols: The Arrangement Pt11

The Final Chapter

Genre: Chaebols AU/ romance/ fluff/ angst

Pairing: Kyungsoo x OC

Length:6.5k

Song recs for this chapter: Be the One by Dua Lipa and Born Again by Tiffany Young

Full playlist for Chaebols: The Arrangement

First Previous Pt11    Prequel

cover by the incredible @soobadnoonecanstopher

In Jongdae’s apartment, Jae-Eun lay in his couch. Her head rested in his lap and in silence Jongdae smoothed her hair away from her face. Tears poured quietly, leaving a damp spot in his pants. If it bothered him, he didn’t say a word. Like Jae-Eun knew Jongdae needed comforting words, he knew she didn’t. Jae-Eun needed someone to lean on but encouraging words were of no help. Silent support was all she wanted.

It had been almost two weeks since Jae-Eun had walked in on Kyungsoo and Mi-Sun in his office. Two weeks since Jae realized he didn’t want to let that woman go.

Jae didn’t know if she had been a distraction for Kyungsoo, just something to do until Mi-Sun decided she was ready to play with him again. Or he could be using her to make Mi-Sun jealous. Whatever the reason it was, he had taken Jae-Eun for a fool.

And she had fallen for it whole-heartedly. The sad eyes, pretty promises out of pretty lips, smiles and secret, stolen glances. She had fallen hard for all of it. Jae-Eun believed every word until she saw him knelt at Mi-Sun’s side just like the day they had gotten married. The progress she thought they had made over the last year was a lie. He never intended to move on. Everything she thought she knew was wrong.

The ears fell harder. It hurt, everything hurt. She thought she would eventually get past it. But right now, she needed to grieve.

But she had messed up so much worse than anyone knew. In her grief she neglected herself. Didn’t pay attention to her body. At first there was a lack of appetite, which could be contributed to her emotions. Jae had spent most of that time asleep, so it had been easy to ignore the hunger pain. Then she got sick, unable to keep anything down even when she tried. Her head began to pound uncontrollably, no position, level of darkness, lack of sound or scent would deter the pain.

Jongdae was at work, and Jae-Eun was lucky that his ex-girlfriend Soo-Young had shown up when she did. Jae-Eun had barely made it to open the door before she fainted from the pain. Soo-Young rushed her to the hospital where Dae had met them. She had been so severely dehydrated that any longer and Jae would have gone into shock.

Jae was pissed off at herself for not recognizing the symptoms.

“Eonni,” Soo-Young’s voice brought her out of the thoughts, “You should drink. The tea is still warm, and you don’t want to get sick again.”

Sniffling, Jae-Eun sat up, wiping away her tears and taking the mug of tea.

“Thank you,” she told Soo-Young before bringing the mug to her lips, letting the warm liquid flow down her throat.

The moment it hit her stomach it turned, she heaved and Jongdae produced the trash can he kept close to them. He moved strands of loose hair as she retched into the can, emptying the limited contents of her stomach.

Jae-Eun repeated the process a couple more times before the tea finally settled and she could hold it down. The taste left in her mouth made her feel nauseous, so she excused her self to the bathroom to brush her teeth and rinse. It would likely prompt even more nausea, but she had to try.

When she returned Jongdae pulled her in to his arms.

“Jae-Eun-ah he started as he rubbed circles into her back. “You should call…”

“No…” He was the last person she wanted to see right now. A few weeks ago, she had been secure in her future with or without Kyungsoo. But he had stolen an chance she had at getting past this.

“I said I needed time.”

“Yeah, but you’re sick.”

“I’m not dying, Oppa.”

She was surprised Kyungsoo had given her the space she asked for. Well… kind of anyways. He called Jongdae daily and had texted her almost as often.

           Tuesday, 8:34 pm

                        Soo: Please talk to me…

           Wednesday, 10:30 am

                       Soo: I put in time off for you.

           Wednesday, 10:36 am

                       Soo: Let me explain… please.

           Thursday, 5: 50 pm

                       Soo: Come on baby, call me.

           Saturday, 3:12 pm

                       Soo: please

           Tuesday, 6:45 am

                       Soo: it’s been a week

           Thursday, 11:45 pm

                       Soo: I just want to hear your voice

           Saturday, 2:00 pm

                       Soo: I miss you

As much as she hated it, she missed him too. She missed the days spent quiet in each other’s arms, and the nights up late talking about anything and everything. She missed his eyes peering through his glasses at her as she painted in their office. She missed watching him cook, and the way he hummed when doing menial tasks. She missed the way her hand fit into his and how his lips felt on her skin.

The tears started falling again.

Soo Young sighed, sitting next to Jae and wrapping her in a hug. Jae leaned her head on Soo-Youngs shoulder and let them flow. There was no stopping them anyway.

The building buzzer rang and Jongdae stood to check the display.

“Um, Jae, he’s here.”

Jae-Eun shook her head. She wasn’t ready.

“Sorry little brother, she doesn’t want to see you yet.”

Kyungsoo’s smooth calm voice came back over the comm.

“So help me, Hyung. I will burn this building down to get to her.

She was afraid this was going to happen. The last thing she wanted was to cause a rift between Kyungsoo and Jongdae.

He moved again to protest but Jae stopped him.

“Jongdae, it’s okay.”

He watched as she wiped her tears away and smoothed her hair back into its bun before he hit the button to let Kyungsoo up.

“Do you want us to leave?” Dae asked.

“Please don’t, I’m not ready to do this alone.”

He and Soo-Young agreed and when Kyungsoo walked in they stood like a shield between him and her.

Kyungsoo nodded to the other two but his eyes stayed on her.

“Jae,” his voice was calm but assertive, “I got you point. It’s time to come home.”

“No,” she said simply.

“What do you mean no? I’ve waited for two weeks for you to come home. What do you want me to say? I don’t love her, I love you, now get your things and let’s go.”

Jae stood a little too quickly, but she recovered before Kyungsoo could notice.

“Are you kidding me? The level of her voice was making her nauseous again,” Let’s say for a minute I believe you, and I’m not inclined to, why would I go anywhere with you after a confession like that?”

Kyungsoo sighed, “Is there any way I could confess that would make you believe me?”

She shook her head.

“Then what’s the point. You won’t talk to me or let me explain.” “What’s to explain, you had your tongue down her throat.” Jae shot back.

“I didn’t have my tongue down her throat. I was trying to push her away.”

“Didn’t look like that to me. And let’s not forget the whole ‘you don’t love me like you love her’ confession.”

“Is that all you heard?”

“What more do I need to hear.”

“A lot,” Kyungsoo spat, “There was so much more to that conversation.”

Jongdae and Soo-Young shifted uncomfortably as his voice grew louder.

“It doesn’t matter, she’s obviously thorough jealous and wants you back, so you get what you want.”

“I already told you want I wanted. Damn, Jae, can’t we talk about this at home?”

“You lost the right to choose where we have this conversation.”

“If I wanted her, why am I not with her now? Why and I here begging you to come home? Why am I sleeping in the damn penthouse instead of our home, because the thought of being there without you makes me sick.”

He moved toward her but Jongdae side stepped in Kyungsoo’s way. He gave Dae a slitted look but didn’t push further.

“I won’t fall for your pretty words again.” She mumbled.

“Pretty words? Jae, you know I’m shit at telling you how I really feel. So what? You think this was all a lie?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“If I really wanted her, what reason would I have to lie now?”

“I don’t know, you keep promising the truth, but I have yet to hear it.”

Kyungsoo ran a hand through his hair. “You want the truth? How about I didn’t want my wife to know how big an idiot I was. How about the fact that I got played, from the very damn beginning? I was stupid and naïve, and I gave her everything she wanted and didn’t ask a damn question. Or how about it’s your damn fault I got involved with her in the first place?”

“I didn’t even know you then, that doesn’t make sense.”

“But I knew you,” He didn’t hesitate, “When did your parents tell you it was me they wanted you to marry?”

She sighed, pressing her fingers in the back of her neck to relieve the ache. “I don’t remember, in college maybe. Yeah, they didn’t approve of Nate. I was told I could date if I wanted, but I would be expected to marry you once I came home.”

“Our mothers are best friends. Do you really think they only came up with this when we were in college?”

He had a point, though her mother never gave a name before university, she had always seemed to be talking about a specific person in regard to Jae-Eun marrying.

“I’ve known since I was ten. You went to a different primary school but transferred to our high school. Your bullies didn’t stop messing with you because you hung out with the upperclassmen. Mom told me about you being bullied. They quit because I cornered them and threatened to have their parents fired from my company or call in favors if they didn’t work for my dad. I knew who you were then, and I didn’t mind. I kind of like that my parents had someone picked out for me. You were pretty and likable enough from what I could tell. I would even meet Jongdae after his art class so that I could see you, but I didn’t think it was right to talk to you if you didn’t know who I was.”

“Gee thanks, Kyungsoo-yah. Nice to know our little tradition was because you wanted to see a girl.” Jongdae whined.

Jae-Eun huffed in annoyance, “What does this have to do with her?”

Kyungsoo continued, “One day in third year you didn’t show. Or any day after that. Your parents had sent you to the states, I was pissed. Here is this girl who was supposed to be mine, and I wasn’t even informed when you were sent away.”

“I don’t’ belong to you. Why should you have been told?”

“I know that now. But then I was angry. I could have gone with you so that you weren’t alone. It felt like an ambush. But I mostly blamed myself, if I had said something to you, had we become friends then, maybe you would have stayed. So Jongin and I made a promise to each other not to marry the women our parents arranged for us.” Kyungsoo explained.

Jongdae belted, “That was because of her.”

“This is ridiculous.” Jae-Eun hissed.

“That was caused by Lee Jae-Eun.” He confirmed. “My hope, when I was sent to the states, was to find a woman to bring home so that I could marry who I chose, not someone who was chosen for me. That’s when I met Mi-Sun. She was my choice, and it was the biggest mistake of my life. But I didn’t cheat Jae.”

Jae-Eun felt the tears well in her eyes.

“When we went on that first date, Mi-Sun had just told be she was pregnant. So, I had given up on everything. But you walked into that coffee shop with this confidence. You were still the same girl I liked in high school, but it was like the air around you changed. It was hard to take my eyes off you. You were professional and poised, and you had this plan to make this marriage work and for the first time in years I was actually interested in something other than Mi-sun. But I wasn’t ready to let her go. I wanted to I just wasn’t ready and I took that out on you.”

She wanted to believe him, she wanted it to be the truth. Jae just didn’t know if she could trust what he said ever again.

Her emotions mixed with hormones made her stomach churn uncontrollably. A hard sob sent it over the edge and Jae-Eun dropped to her knees, dry heaving into the can.

“Jae!” She heard his voice in the distance.

Soo-Young came to her side, holding back her hair, rubbing circles into her back.

“What’s wrong with her?” Kyungsoo demanded, “why do you keep acting like you have to protect her from me?”

“I’m not trying to, but you need to back off. She’s sick.”

“Kim Jongdae.” Jae managed a warning before her stomach finally emptied.

“I’m sorry, Jae-Eun-ah,” Dae said when she managed to stop retching. “He’s my brother, I can’t lie to him anymore.”

“You promised.” She cried.

“But I didn’t,” Soo-Young came to her feet and stood beside Jongdae. “Your wife just got out of the hospital last night. She was extremely dehydrated, and close to going into shock.”

He moved forward again, but Jae-Eun held her had up for him to stop.

“Why wasn’t I told. She’s my wife damnit.”

Jongdae placed a hand on his shoulder, “I was there as her guardian. We didn’t have to inform you and she asked me not to.”

“She has a condition called hyperemesis gravidarum.” Soo-Young explained. “It’s a very severe form of morning sickness.”

There was silence from him at first. Jae-Eun slid off her knees and rested back against the couch. She sniffled as she wiped the tears (some from crying, some from the stain of vomiting).

Kyungsoo was hidden from her sight by Dae and Soo-Young, her hand in his.

“Are you saying…” He couldn’t finish the sentence.

“Yes, she’s pregnant.”

Jae heard a shuffle and a loud bang as Kyungsoo backed into the wall and slid down to the floor. Jongdae knelt at his side as Soo-Young turned back to check on Jae-Eun.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered to Jae-Eun, “I couldn’t let Dae do it.”

Jae-Eun nodded in understanding. Jongdae was doing much better, but who knew what could send him spiraling. She brushed more tears again. With his head between his knees, Kyungsoo’s shoulders bounced. She would have thought he was crying, but the sound he emitted was nowhere near a cry.

He was laughing.

When he raised his head, his face was contorted into a half-smile-half-sneer.

“You’re having my baby, and we can’t even be happy about it. I told you I would fuck this up. You should have run when my mom gave you the chance.”      

His voice broke and the smile disappeared. Kyungsoo breathed heavily and Jae thought she saw moisture in his eyes.

With Jongdae’s help, Kyungsoo rose to his feet.

“Baby, please come home. Let me take care of you. We can work this out… please.” He begged.

“I’m not leaving you. I made a promise and I intend to keep it.” Jae assured him. “But, I’m not ready to go home with you. I still need more time.”

There was something in his face that looked like hopelessness to Jae. It almost had her changing her mind, but then she remembered just good at acting Kyungsoo really was.

He nodded his head, turning away, but he thought better of it. Shoving his hand in the pocket of his jeans, he produced a USB drive.

“The time that Mi-Sun walked in on us in my office, she didn’t know that Secretary Yoon told me she always asked if I was alone before she came in. So she would have had to know that you were in there with me. I didn’t trust her after that, so I have audio and video installed and Secretary Yoon would turn it on every time Mi-Sun showed up.”

He knelt next to her, taking her hand and slipping the drive into her palm.

“If you want to know what really happened it’s on this drive,” Kyungsoo closed her fingers around the box. Then he placed a kiss to the back of her hand, pressing it against his cheek.

Jae-Eun closed her eyes for a second and allowed herself to feel, to take in the sensation of his skin against hers.

Then he released it and stood.

“I’ll give you whatever time and space you need. You know where I’ll be and how to get a hold of me when you are ready.”

He turned to the door but Jae-Eun needed to know something before he left.

“Kyungsoo,” she called after him. “How can I ever trust you when you keep her by your side.”

“Yoo Mi-Sun no longer works for Ganghan.” He said simply. “Monday is the last day of her notice.”

“Why?”

“She tried to wreck our marriage. Let’s just say when given the option between a new position in Busan and a sexual harassment lawsuit, she chose the former.”

Jae-Eun remained silent, unsure of how to respond to that. She knew there was no guarantee she would go through with it. Jae-Eun had learned that hoping, when it came to Kyungsoo, was futile.

“I love you.” Kyungsoo’s voice was solid and confident. “I know it may not matter to you now, but you deserve to hear it. I love you more than anything.”

He turned to Jongdae, “Take care of her for me, Hyung.”

Then he walked out the door.

Jae tossed the USB on the table like it was toxic. She didn’t want to hear his confession again, or to see their passionate exchange. But more than anything she didn’t want to watch as he rushed to her side protectively.

Jae climbed to her feet slowly so she wouldn’t agitate the nausea and dizziness. With out a word to Jongdae and Soo-Young, she walked out of the room. The taste of bile lingered, so she brushed her teeth. It would be important for her to maintain this if the sickness were to be a regular occurrence. From what the doctor told her, anything could set it off and it could last anywhere from a few months to the entire pregnancy.

Pregnancy!

Jae-Eun hadn’t’ let herself believe it yet. But Kyungsoo knew, she couldn’t avoid it anymore. She couldn’t continue to wallow in self-pity any more because she was having Kyungsoo’s baby, and she was happy about it. No matter what their baby was a good thing. She could focus her time raising their child, the next heir to the Ganghan empire, and not waste her time caring about who her husband did or didn’t love.

When she came out of the bathroom, Jae-Eun had renewed strength.

Jongdae and Soo-Young sat on the couch with a laptop, the drive slotted on the right side.

“I know you don’t trust him.” Jongdae spoke over the back of the couch. “But I think he is telling the truth. You should watch the video.”

He was right, of course. Jae-Eun needed to know. Seeing the whole picture would be important if she were ever going to find a way past this.

So, the nodded and joined them on the couch. “I will watch it if you stay with me.”

Jongdae sighed, “okay, which one is it?”

“There,” she pointed, “that was the date.”

Jongdae’s fingers moved over the touchpad, selection the video and hitting play.

Kyungsoo and Jae-Eun stood together as Mi-Sun stepped into his office.

“CEO, Director Lee.” Mi-Sun bowed.

“Director Yoo.”

“Early as always, Director.” Kyungsoo’s voice was clipped.

“Yes, sir.”

Jae-Eun turned back to Kyungsoo, “I’ll see you at home.”

She placed a kiss to his cheek then whispered something that was inaudible. As she turned away Kyungsoo grabbed her hand, pressing it to his chest.

“Be safe,” he released her and Jae-Eun walked out of the office, leaving Kyungsoo and Mi-Sun alone together.

Mi-Sun stepped forward, tossing the binger on the table where Kyungsoo took his in-office meetings.

“The others are running a bit late, but they will be here soon.” She told him.

Je leaned back against his desk, crossing his arms and acknowledged her.

“You look happy.” She noted.

“I am,” he responded.

“It’s a complete one-eighty from what I saw at your wedding.”

Kyungsoo pulled his glasses off and tossed them back on his desk.

“We had a rough start. Jae-Eun and I … we figured things out. Everything is good. It’s really good.”

Mi-Sun came up next to him, “You’re in love with her?”

A smile formed on Kyungsoo’s face that was visible across the distance from the camera.

“Yeah, I’m in love with her.”

“But you don’t love her like you love me.”

Kyungsoo’s smile faded and he stepped out of Mi-Suns touch.

“You’re right. I don’t.”

 Jae-Eun felt the daggers in her chest again. It was worse than the first time. Kyungsoo told Mi-Sun he was he was in love with Jae-Eun only to turn right around and contradict himself. To say it wasn’t enough.

She wanted to be done, but his voice caught her attention again.

 “Loving you had be twisted and broken. I felt like I was drowning all the time. With Jae, it’s like I can breathe again. She’s my air. She doesn’t try to control me or stand on my coat tails. She stands beside me. Jae-Eun is my partner. I never loved you the way I love her.”

Mi-Sun approached him again. “How could you say that after everything we have been through. I messed up, I know I did. But I still love you and I still want to be with you.”

Kyungsoo backed away again, “Why are you telling me this now? After I said I’m in love and happy.”

Kyungsoo made quick eye contact with the camera.

“Because I’m not happy and I miss you. It kills me that I sent you into someone else’s arms.”

He huffed, “You van stop how. I don’t believe a word you say. All you know how to do is lie.”

Mi-Sun threw herself at him then, grabbing onto his lapels, pulling him down, plastering her lips to his.

Kyungsoo pushed her back, “Yoo Mi-Sun!”

But she flung her arms around his neck pulling him back down keeping him locked there.

His hands grabbed her hips and pushed against her. Then the door slammed.

 Jae-Eun watched herself step out of her heels, stalk over to them and plant her fist in Mi-Suns face.

Jongdae released a loud, “ooohhh,” as M-Sun fell to the ground.

But Jae kept her eyes on Kyungsoo as she grabbed her around the waist and stopped her from attacking. His focus seemed to be more on her than the bleeding woman on the floor of his office. Then he jerked a few tissues from the box and knelt down, presenting the tissue to Mi-Sun between two fingers, turning away as soon as she took it.

Jae-Eun had been wrong. It wasn’t like their wedding day when he had run to Mi-Sun’s side worried for her wellbeing. He seemed annoyed to have had to help her. Kyungsoo was curt and called her director instead of by her name. But it could just be that he was at work and was trying to be professional given the situation.

Then he told Jae-Eun to go home.

The door slammed a second time.

Kyungsoo picked up the black binder and walked behind his desk.

Taking he seat he spoke. “You should go to the hospital and have that checked out. I’ll go over your numbers and conduct the meeting without you.”

He slid his glasses back on to look over the papers.

“Not until you call the authorities, Kyungsoo. That woman is crazy.”

“You expect me to call the police on my own wife. Are you out of your mind?”

“You saw her attack me. She’s out of control. I’m sure my nose is broken.” She pushed him as she stood up.

“And tell them what exactly? She walked in on you sexually harassing her husband. Are you planning on explaining that to the police?”

“It was just a kiss, Kyungsoo.”

“One that was unwanted and unsolicited.” He fumed, “Your nose is still bleeding, you should really focus on taking care of that.”

He skimmed through the binder, not showing her much attention. He sounded disinterested in anything Mi-Sun was saying.

“Kyungsoo…”

“I’m not calling the police on Jae-Eun. If you decide to pursue this further then I’m just going to have to file a complaint of my own.”

“Kyungsoo, if you love me you will…”

“I don’t love you,” Kyungsoo’s voice boomed across his office. “And I’m done feeling responsible for you and your son.”

Mi-Sun gawked.

“Now go get yourself checked out, send the bill to Secretary Yoon, and leave me and my wife alone.”

“Kyungsoo…” She pushed again.

He dropped the binder and picked up his phone. “Secretary Yoon, could you call a driver for Director Yoo. She needs to make a trip to the hospital. Thank you.”

He replaced the receiver and looked back at Mi-Sun.

“They are expecting you Director.” Kyungsoo spoke to Mi-Sun with the same disdain he had shown Jae-Eun when they were first together.

Mi-Sun huffed, but she turned and stomped out of his office.

Kyungsoo picked the binder back up just before the video cut off.

 Jae-Eun sat in silence. Her brain didn’t seem to be working. The information didn’t want to process correctly.

Jondae spoke up, “And now I remember why we never liked her.”

Jae-Eun came to her feet. Her mind wasn’t working but her body propelled her forward.

“Where are you going?” Jongdae asked as she pulled her keys out of the dish by the door and changed from her slippers to her shoes.

“I was wrong. I have to go. I need to go home.”

She didn’t wait for a response before she was out the door and in the elevator. The ride down took centuries, time for her head to catch up with her heart.

Jae had only seen and heard what she had expected to, hot what really happened. She hadn’t noticed the blandness of his voice when he spoke to Mi-Sun, the disinterest. She didn’t notice his body language. The way his hands were pushing at her hips not pulling her to him. Hw he’d knelt just to pass along the tissue, not to make sure she was okay.

Kyungsoo had been right those months ago when he told her she had one foot out the door. Jae thought her insecurities were fading, but the moment Mi-Sun posed any kind of threat, Jae had been prepared to flee. God how could she ever make up for what she put him through for the past two weeks.

When the elevator opened, she burst through the doors taking the lobby at a jog. It was a risk with her stomach on overdrive, but she didn’t care.

Jae kept her speed outside to find her car, only she noticed the one in the building looked like Kyungsoo’s.

Jae-Eun slowed her pace as she recognized the figure in the driver seat. Hands gripping tow and ten, his forehead pressed against the steering wheel, Kyungsoo’s shoulders heaved. He hadn’t even made it out of the parking lot yet.

She laughed, tears pouring in torrents. Her idiot husband, the love of the life, was crying in his car.

She came around to his door and knocked on his window. He jumped, lifting his head, his eyes widened when he saw her.

Jae-Eun stepped back as he jumped out of the car.

“Is everything okay? What’s wrong? Do you need to go back to the hospital?” he bombarded her with questions.

She laughed through a sob as he brought her hands up to wipe the tears away from Kyungsoo’s cheeks. A red spot lined his forehead from where it had rested on the steering wheel.

“Are you really going to make your pregnant wife pack her bags by herself?” She cried.

Kyungsoo stammered, “you… You’re coming home?”

She nodded her head and Kyungsoo wrapped her up in his arms.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t believe you.”

“No, I’m sorry,” he inserted, “I will never do anything to make you doubt me again. I love you so much and I should have told you.”

“You were right, I was so insecure, I thought you would leave me for her, and I didn’t see what was really happening.”

Kyungsoo laughed. “You are stuck with me now. I have my wonderful wife and a baby on the way. I will never leave you. Not for anything.”

He peppered her face with kisses, and Jae-Eun giggled at the gesture.

“Can we just be happy now. Madam Do?”

Jae-Eun agreed, “at least until I have to throw up again.”

His smile faded in concern, “Is it that bad?”

Kyungsoo draped his arm around her shoulder as he turned them back to the building.

“Oh my God, it’s so bad.” She replied as they started back to the building. “So you liked me in high school.”

“I did. And I have a feeling you’re not going to let me live that down.”

“Nope, it’s forever ammo.”

  It was warm, familiar, and safe when she woke, surrounded by objects and smells she was accustomed to. Kyungsoo lay, still sleeping, next to her, his face obscured in a tangle of her hair, his hand splayed out protectively over her belly.

The happy feeling lasted all of ten seconds before her stomach had her making a run for the bathroom. Jae-Eun barely made it to the toilet before emptying her stomach, then dry heaving for a solid five minutes. At some point her hair was pulled away from her face and a toasty hand rubbed comfort into her back.

When she was finally done, she crawled over, propping herself up against the wall. Kyungsoo wet down a wash cloth and handed it to her as she took the floor in front of her.

“Good morning, beautiful.” He smiled lightly at her.

Jae wiped her face and neck down.

“This is not exactly how you pictured you saying that to me.” She told him.

“How exactly did you picture it?”

“I don’t know, wrapped up in each other’s arms in bed when we first wake up in the morning. Definitely not while I’m covered in sweat, tears, and vomit on the bathroom floor.”

Kyungsoo took the cloth back patting it around her face.

“Well you are growing my baby. You look beautiful even on the floor covered in sweat, tears and vomit.”

“Now you’re just kissing my ass.” She teased.

“And I will continue to do so. At least for the next eight or so months.” He explained, helping her to her feet slowly, “Are you sure you want to go to work today. You can take a leave of absence or work from home.”

She shook her head lightly, “I want to keep things as normal as possible for as long as possible.”

Kyungsoo didn’t like it, but he agreed.

Getting breakfast to stay down was challenging. Nari hovered over her, jumping at every move. Kyungsoo wasn’t any better.

They both thought it was better to wait a while to announce the news to the company, so Kyungsoo had a member of the cleaning staff assigned solely to her office. One under instructions to keep her condition a secret.

Jae-Eun felt bad for the woman. The biggest part of the time she only dry heaved, but she had to force fluids or be at risk of dehydration again. So, the woman was kept busy.

Jae-Eun mostly stayed to her work and was able to keep control while she spoke with her staff, but half way through the day she knew it would be difficult to do this for very long.

She was scanning through the slide prints for the new ad pitch when her phone rang.

“Lee Jae-Eun.” She rattled off, her head still in the slides.

“Have you been able to keep any thing down?” Kyungsoo’s voice came across the receiver.

“Yes dear.” She teased.

"I'm going to bring lunch up down in a bit. We can eat together so I can be there if you get sick." He asked.

"Mmm" she agreed.

"I thought I should let you know, she is here today. I didn’t think she would show, but she clocked in." Kyungsoo warned her. Again, the disdain he had shown Jae-Eun when they were first married was thick in his throat as he spoke about Mi-Sun.

Jae-Eun smiled. She never though he would speak to her with such love while referring to Mi-Sun with distaste and annoyance. 

"Are you okay baby?" His smooth baritone sang to her across the line. 

"Absolutely," she said with the confidence of a woman who knew where her man stood. "I'm not worried. She will likely keep her head down and finish her last day. I'm looking forward to lunch. Well kind of anyways."

She wanted to have lunch with Kyungsoo, but was not looking forward to the eventual, barf session.

He showed up some time later with a bowl of broth and crackers. 

" I figured we could start off simple and see what will be easier on your stomach. Also, it said if you eat smaller more frequent meals and snack, it may help control the sickness some." He explained.

"Look at you, doing your research." She doted.

"You are already going to go through so much, I want to make things as easy as possible. Secretary Yoon was able to get a hold of everyone. So we have the weekend with all the guy and the family to tell them the news.”

They had plan to tell their immediate family, only that also extended to Kyungsoo’s brothers... all eight of them. 

Broth and crackers were not easy.

She had to send him back to his office. Kyungsoo had an important meeting after lunch, but he didn’t want to leave with her feeling sick.

The remainder of the day was quiet. So far, the first day back had been relatively easy. Her staff were competent enough that she didn’t have to hover or micromanage.

Everyone else had left for the day and Jae had finished editing slides, when she decided to head home. She grabbed her bag out of her desk and when she stood, a figure at the door had her jumping.

Mi-Sun stood just inside her office.

“Mrs. Yoo, it’s not polite to lurk in some one’s doorway.” Jae-Eun chastised.

She stood with her keys and pushed her chair into her desk.

“You think you won.” Mi-Sun murmured.

“Won what exactly? I’m not playing a game Mi-Sun. This is my life. I don’t have time for games.”

Mi-Sun snickered. “He may think he loves you now. But he will come back to me. He always comes back to me.”

Jae-Eun didn’t falter. She shrugged. “I don’t think so. But if he does then I hope the two of you are happy together.”

“You are a smug little bitch, turning your nose up at everyone. You don’t want to admit that you can’t control him.”

“I don’t want to control him. I like him just the way he is. If he wants to be controlled, I’m sure he’ll go find you again. And I don’t turn my nose up at anyone, I just don’t have to patience to deal with immaturity and drama. I never have and he knows it.” Jae-Eun remarked.

“He only wants you for your money.”

“No, Mi-Sun that’s you.”

The woman huffed.

Jae recognized Mi-Sun’s last-ditch effort to get between her and Kyungsoo. It wouldn’t work this time. Kyungsoo’s feelings were clear in his behavior. If he still had feelings for Mi-Sun he wouldn’t have sent her away. No, Kyungsoo was done with her. And Jae-Eun wouldn’t fall for her tricks.

“You can believe what you want, but he won’t ever forget me.”

“Probably not, and most likely not in a good light. But there is something I want to send you away with.” Jae-Eun shortened the distance between them.

Mi-Sun raised an eyebrow.

“Before you, before your lies, before he loved you, there was me. For longer than you could even imagine. He was mine first.”

Mi-Sun seethed. The look in her eyes were dangerous, but Jae-Eun wasn’t intimidated.

“What’s going on here.” Kyungsoo’s voice came from behind Mi-Sun.

“Oh, Kyungsoo, I was just apolo…” Mi-Sun started.

She trailed off as Kyungsoo passed her without a look and came to Jae-Eun’s side.

“Mi-Sun was saying her goodbyes.” Jae-Eun told him.

The woman was flustered. Especially when Kyungsoo wrapped his arm around Jae-Eun’s shoulders, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“Are you okay.” His hand came to her belly.

“We’re okay.” Jae-Eun whispered, covering his hand with hers.

“So, your pregnant.” Mi-Sun demanded.

At this point, Jae-Eun was finished with this woman.

“That is none of your business.” She snapped. “Now get the hell out of our building. You no longer work here.”

Mi-Sun whined, “Kyungsoo.”

“You heard her.” He remarked.

Mi-Sun huffed as she turned and stomped to the elevators.

Kyungsoo and Jae-Eun watched as she disappeared.

He turned wrapping his other arm around her, his lips brushed against hers gently.

“She will be in Busan tomorrow. And completely out of our lives.”

Jae shook her head, “Not completely. She will always be a part of our story. But it’s a chapter we can close now.”

“And keep closed… forever.”

“Sounds good to me.”

Kyungsoo released her shoulders, he took her hand in his.

“I have something for you.”

He wrapped his fingers around her wedding band, pulled it from her finger and held it up.

“This is the ring I gave to a woman who was arranged to marry me.” He tossed the ring on her desk and pulled a box out of his jacket. He produced another ring from the box and held it up to her. It was a simple band just like she preferred, silver and rose gold with a row of small diamonds inlayed across the middle.

“This is the ring I had made for the woman I choose the spend the rest of my life with.” He slid the ring on. “I love you, so no more arrangement. Just be my wife.”

Jae-Eun held her hand up and studied the ring.

“I kind of miss my quiet husband who, wasn’t so sappy and emotional.”

Kyungsoo pursed his lips and narrowed her eyes. “It’s all your fault. You opened the flood gates.”

“That I did,” she smiled, “I love you too, real husband.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck taking his lips with complete abandon. He followed, even though her office door was open.

Once they were both breathless, Kyungsoo pressed his forehead against hers.

“Let’s go home.” He whispered.

“Home it is.”

  authors note: It’s been a long ride with this fic. I want to thank everyone that stuck with me though the droughts and all of the love and support I received while writing it. The Arrangement may be over but the Chaebols series is not and Jae and Soo will show up again. 

[startingtodayyouareahost]

Shipping Sentence Starters.

Send me a Host Pairing with a sentence and i’ll write a short snip bit. as requested it shall be put into categories. Undercut since it’s long. sorry mobile readers.  I WANNA STAB MY EYEBALLS! SO I HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE IT! I STARTED THIS AROUND 9:30 IT’S NOW 11:30

Pairings

Haruhi x Host

Tamaki x Host

Kyoya x Host

Hikaru x Host (minus Kaoru)

Kaoru x Host (minus Hikaru)

Mitsukuni x Host (minus Takashi)

Takashi x Host (minus Mitsukuni)

Genre (if you see a sentence and want a different genre)

Fluff/Romance

Angst/Gore

Smut/Lemon

Family/Pregnancy

Sibling/Platonic

Fluff/ Romance Starters

“ Excuse me but could you not?”

You can’t just kiss me like that and walk away!”

“You! hoodie off! on me! now!”

“It’s a bad idea, me and you.” 

“Wow. you’re beautiful. . .” “I. . you. . . Shut up!”

“Cuddle intervention.” 

“Marry me.”

“I broken my heart so many times i stopped keeping track.”

“If you’re not going to help me then shut up.”

“Hey! feel my shirt it’s boyfriend/girlfriend material.”

“I can’t with you right now.”

“I’m glad i have the ability to say i love you. some people don’t get to say that.”

“How about smiling? You ever do that? Hmm?“

“ i like seeing you smile.”

“It’s so early, please stop.”

“Don’t be mean! I’m just trying to love you!”    

“ hush, i’m trying to kiss you.”  

“  we should get a pet.” 

“It’s hand holding season.”

“Your cheeks are so red; it’s so cute!”

“I’m not letting you forget an umbrella ever again.” “Hey! now we can kiss in the rain.” “No.”

“Hug me; I’m cold and love you.”

“Pajamas and movies sounds really nice.”

“Fuck it. you and i will get married right now and we will go live in a van. they can take everything from me but they wont take you.”

“I don’t know what i’d do without you.” “die probably”

“ i can’t believe i fell in love … like an idiot.

“Skip class today, let’s walk together in the park.”

“When I’m with you I can be myself naturally.” 

“Take my hand.”

”Don’t pull away – Just a little longer.”

Angst/Gore Starters

“ Where do you think you’re going?”

“If liars could catch on fire then you my love, would be walking in hell.”

“Get out of my face before i knock your lights out!”

“Look me in the eye when i’m talking to you!”

“If you cry they’ll hear us.”

“I thought you cared. guess i was wrong.”

“If i had known that when i married you.”

“You’re a monster.”

“You’re a prideful asshole you know that?”

“Ow. that looks painful. tell me how it feels?”

“You’re extremely stubborn for someone your age. you just refuse to die.”

“No. You lose, you die. so pray that next trigger you pull is a blank.”

“Uh, guys, I think I got shot.“

“I suppose by now you’re starting to feel something’s wrong.”

“It wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t anybody’s fault.”

“Our time is running out.”

“Can you walk?”

“Go! you can lift all this off of me so go!”

“Hurt me all you want. But if you hurt him/her i will kill you.”

“Can you stop thinking about yourself for once?”

“I don’t know how to love you.”

“Just so we’re clear, we will never be meeting again.”

“How are you holding up?” “How does it look like I’m holding up?!”

“Grab the knife!”

“I won’t go down without a fight!” “I know.”

“Aw. your friend is dead. now it’s just you. think he died cursing your name?”

“ I asked you a question. If you know what’s good for you, you better answer me.”

“If i scream they’ll here and come running. that’s when you capture them” “That’s the plan.” “Then i better not scream.”

“W-what did you just drug me with.”

“I have a lot of viewers right now. they pick how you die.”

Family Starters

“What do you mean you’re pregnant?”

“Babe i love you. but you’re so tiny and your belly is huge!”

“Who knew you would turn soft after becoming a father/mother.”

You heard them. my daughter/son said no.”

“You’re such a pushover when it cokes to your daughter/son.”

“Excuse me? do you kiss your mother/father with that mouth!?”

“After 5 am. their your child.”

“We’re. . .  wrestling baby!”

“Grab the blanket and come sit with me while i finish up.”

“Don’t touch my daughter/son again!”

“Mommy/daddy will make it better.”

“There there little one. i got you.”

“Just because you weren't allowed to cry as a child doesn't mean your own daughter/son has to!”

“Wait! I got a flashlight! Wait!”

“Adoption huh? you’re interested in that?”

“You locked your sibling where!?”

“I never cared if you say your a boy/girl you’re still my baby either way.”

“You want another sibling. . . ask your dad/mom”

“How to you keep getting hurt?! no really is this your talent!?”

“Never, ever! Start a fight. But you better finish it”

“I can’t wait to meet you.”

“are you sure i can hold them? they wont break?”

“I’m not ready for this. i don’t know if i can do this.”

“When something goes wrong i’m here to help! That’s my job as you Mom/Dad! to bail you out when you get in over your head! I want your first thought to be to come get me not think that i’ll kill you!”

“huh? . . .yeah you can sleep with me.”

“Guess neither of us are sleeping tonight. . .huh.”

“I’m so proud of you.”

“No. I’m spending time with my family. It can wait.”

“You just took a bath! how??? when did you???? how did you find mud! it’s not even raining!”

“Well. . .um, do you guys need anything? a snack? condoms?”

Smut Starters

“ I think we should. . .  order in tonight.”

“I know how to shut you up.”

“I’m not just a pair of legs you know.”

“Tonight i’m going to pound you so hard you’re not going to walk in the morning.”

“On your knees.”

“I bought you something.”

“I want you to scream my name”

“Wait, wait, wait! You want to do it here?

“Ouch, that kind of hurts.”

“S-slow down!”

“Tell me what feels good.”

“You want me so bad don’t you.”

“Ah, that feels good…”

“I bet I’m strong enough to pick you up.”

“Touch me. I don’t care how. I just need to feel something right now…”

“Bite me.” “Where?”

“We’re in a car!” “We are in a car. ;)”

“What’s your rush?”

“A simple kiss turned into a bit more. . .”

“Just where exactly do you think you’re going to put that thing?”

“The cuffs stay on, until I say otherwise.”

“All I need is five minutes and two fingers.”

“There’s nothing good on tv tonight.” “Does that mean we can have sex then?”

“Make it rougher.”

“Isn’t the thrill of getting caught half of the fun?”

“Whoever screams the loudest loses.”  

“Can you help me take care of this boner?” “Take care of it yourself!” “Well, it’s your fault it’s there in the first place!”

“I want you to watch me when I fuck you.”   

“I got a collar with your name on it.” “You got me a what?”

“breed me.”

Misc Starters

“I think i just heard a noise downstairs. What should we do?”

“Smile for daddy”

“Where do you go late at night?”

“Why. . . are you so morbid?”

“Well i went to church.” “you went to church!?”

“You look like a hot topic reject.”

“Kids, grab your shit we’re leaving!”

“All I do is drink coffee and say bad words.”  

“If I die, I’m haunting you first.” “ok. fair.”

“YOU SAID TO BE HONEST STOP HITTING ME! “

“I’m too sober for this.” “You don’t even drink.” “I’m going to start.” “No.”

“Don’t bite me, that’s rude.” 

“None of us will ever really know our fathers”

“What the hell are you doing on the bathroom floor at 3 in the morning?”

“you have a very different definition of fun” 

“ i’m a simple person. i see a cool rock , i pick it up.”

“Wow i wanna stab my eyes after this” 

“I’m being gay with you. Homo intended, dammit.”  

“You need a makeover. Like, yesterday.”

"You know what would make me happy...IF YOU WENT TO FUCKING SLEEP."

“Do you think you could bribe with me food, and I would forgive you that easily?” “Yes.” “…..fair enough. I accept your apology.”

“All this and heaven too.”

“Hey guys, I’m here and I’m ready to bitch.”

“I’m wearing my boots with shorts and you can kiss my ass.”

“Alright. i’m gonna cry.”

“Success is more important than human contact and love and hugs and…“ “…is that why you’re crying?”

“If you start singing i will put you on mute.”

“Blocked.” “You can’t block me in real life!”

*Host walks into music room* Everyone here is straight! *awkward silence.* *another host* “Who here is straight??”

“Alright. . . who’s gonna die first because one of you will die.”

[spaceskam]

maybe i’m not a boy who would stay, but isn’t it kinda fun to be together?

slightly late day 11 of my 12 (actually 13) days of gifts! this time we have a ridiculously long one for @christchex! I have no excuse for the length of this, I had no intention for this to get this long, I am so sorry if it’s boring. Hope you enjoy it anyway lol

ao3

“Please!”

“No!”

“Ugh, you guys are no fun!”

Alex and Maria continued to laugh as they watched Liz throw a fit. They were all camping out on the roof of The Wild Pony, trying to enjoy their 3-person Christmas party on the eve of Christmas Eve. IT was all going successfully as possible and now Liz was ruining it by pouting. 

“We’re seventeen! That’s too old to write letters to Santa,” Maria explained.

“All I’m hearing is you’re too old for fun,” Liz insisted, crossing her arms as she plopped back down on her sleeping bag. Alex rolled his eyes.

“What’s fun about writing all that you want down and sending it to a person that doesn’t exist?” Alex asked. 

“You never know who might read it,” Liz said in a faux cryptic tone. Alex barked a laugh.

“Are you insinuating that there is an omnipotent being coming to grant your wishes?” Alex asked, “Or, wait, God is reading your letters to Santa? I think that’s blasphemous.” 

“Shut up!” Liz laughed, swatting his way, “I just hate how not festive everything feels. It doesn’t even feel like Christmas. The only thing that’s changed, though, is my age. I was hoping that doing something we did as kids would make it feel a bit more festive.”

Alex sighed as he reluctantly realized that she had a point. He’d spent the first few years of his life never actually enjoying Christmas because it just meant more time spent at home with his father, but, ever since Mimi got legal guardianship of him, it was his favorite time of year. He never missed out on feeling festive whenever Mimi decorated the house and had a stocking with his name embroidered on it and made really bomb trail mix. He wanted Liz to feel that festive feeling too.

“Okay, fine, we can write letters,” Alex sighed. Maria looked at him incredulously.

“Oh no,” she gasped, “Not you too.”

“I’ll go get some paper and pens,” Alex chuckled and crawled out of his sleeping bag. Liz cheered and Maria groaned. As groan-worthy as it was, he had nothing better to do.

He quickly dropped down to the top floor of the building where he, Maria, and Mimi all stayed, and slipped into his bedroom. It was small seeing as it was once-upon-a-time the dining room. Mimi had strung up thick curtains in lieu of doors and, while it wasn’t much, it was more than Alex had ever asked for. He grabbed a notepad and a few pens from his tiny desk/bedside table.

He returned to see Liz smiling childishly and Maria seeming to have grown on the idea. Alex passed out the papers and pens before sitting down again. They all wrote ‘Dear Santa,’ at the top. Then they very quickly realized they had no idea what the hell to wish for.

“Are you telling me you wanted us to write letters to Santa and then had no idea what you want from Santa?” Maria asked. Liz gave a guilty smile.

“I didn’t think I’d get this far.”

“Jesus, Liz,” Alex laughed, “Okay, well, what’s something wild that you want, but would never get in a million years?”

“Oooh, a fully functioning biomedical lab with all the fancy equipment that I can play with for as long as I want,” Liz said excitedly. 

“God, you’re such a dork,” Maria said, but she smiled fondly as she urged Liz to write it down. “Alright, Alex, your turn. Wildest, unrealistic wish. Go.”

“Fuck, I don’t know, I feel like I’ve got everything I could ever ask for,” Alex admitted. Both girls ‘aw’d obnoxiously as he rolled his eyes.

“You have to be wanting something, Alex, it’s human nature,” Liz prodded.

“Oh, I know!” Maria exclaimed, “A boyfriend! You need one of those!”

“I do not‒”

“Write it down!”

Alex snorted, but couldn’t think of a valid reason why he couldn’t write it down. While a boyfriend wasn’t really at the top of his priority list, it would be sort of nice. He couldn’t deny that. Hell, just meeting another queer guy, in general, would be nice. So, he wrote it down.

“Oh, you can’t just write that,” Liz complained as she peered onto his paper, “I wrote all the things I want in my lab, write all the things you want in your male.”

Alex scoffed, “Like what?”

“Like soft hair and dreamy eyes,” Maria said wistfully, a playful smile on her face.

“Super smart, but sensetive,” Liz added.

“A good kisser!”

“Good in bed.”

“Okay, clearly you should be asking for a boyfriend,” Alex laughed, shaking his head. He instead listed a few qualities that he wanted.

Dear Santa,

This year for Christmas I would like a boyfriend who is nice, funny, and smart. And if he happens to be out-of-this-world handsome, I won’t complain.

Please and thank you, 

Alex Manes

“There, done,” Alex decided, “What did you write, Maria?”

“I asked for a million dollars,” she said with a grin. He scoffed.

“Oh, so you get something easy and I had to ask for a whole ass person?”

“A million dollars is not easy!”

“But that’s a go-to wish! That’s not fair!”

“A boyfriend is a go-to wish!”

“To whom?!”

“Ladies!” Liz yelled, throwing her arms out dramatically, “Relax, there’s enough fictional magic to go around.”

Giggles bubbled out of Alex as he shook his head. “Shut up.”

The night dwindled and they all ran to put their letters into the mailbox, laughing all the way. It was too fun to do these things, too fun to act like they weren’t graduating in a few months and fun to act like they didn’t know what might happen. This could be the very last Christmas they spent camping out together on the roof.

Might as well enjoy it.

-

At approximately 2:30 AM, the sky lit up.

The sky lit up and Alex woke up.

Alex woke up and he heard a crash.

He heard a crash and the ground shook.

Thankfully, when the ground shook, the girls woke up too and Alex didn’t have to freak out to wake them up. Instead, they got to freak out together like real best friends. Everything happened so quickly and they were all talked over each other, all too scared to go see what the hell just fell from the fucking sky. 

“You go look.”

“No, you!”

“You!”

“I’ll go look,” Alex sighed. He took a deep breath and slowly slipped from his sleeping bag before four hands grabbed him to keep him in place. “I can’t go look if you guys don’t let me go.”

“Sorry,” they grumbled, letting him go reluctantly. Well, sort of, because they ended up just coming with him.

Alex felt his heart thudding in his chest, but he couldn’t exactly figure out why. Something crashed behind The Pony, yes, but it could’ve been anything. It could’ve been a meteor or a tree or frozen waste from a plane like in Joe Dirt. That should’ve been his first thought.

But he lived in Roswell and nothing was ever that easy.

“Is that‒”

“Yep.”

“In Roswell?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Fuck.”

The three of them peered over the edge of the roof to see a small, glittery aircraft half-buried in the ground nose-first. It was smoking and had made a very small crater which told Alex that, whoever was piloting it, had been semi-successful in making sure it didn’t hit with full force. However, that meant there was indeed a pilot. Which meant someone might be hurt.

“We have to go down there,” Alex said.

“Alex, we have no idea what’s gonna come out of there,” Maria stage-whispered as if whatever was down there might hear them.

“Okay, but they might need help!” Alex argued.

“They might be dead,” Liz added.

Alex jolted into action, racing towards the latter and all but jumping down to the floor. Liz and Maria followed, hissing his name, but he couldn’t stop himself. Someone might be hurt and he just couldn’t stand by and let it worsen. He’d been hurt because. Someone saved him.

He could try to save someone else.

Alex burst out of the back door and sprinted towards the spacecraft just as a figure crawled out. He stopped a few feet away, just in case, and caught his breath.

“Are you okay?! Do you need help?!” Alex called. The head of the figure turned to him, face covered in soot and eyes squinted like he was looking into the sun on a hot day. Alex went closer. 

The closer he got, the more he questioned if it was human or not. It looked human, but the spacecraft sure as hell didn’t. The creature had human-like skin and features, the main difference being his clothing and his hair. He was wearing a black, asymmetrical tunic with a ridiculously deep v-neck that had a white shirt underneath and very baggy, black pants. His hair was curly and brown, which was human, but the oddly constructed braids that looked to be made of more than 8 strands lined his entire head, leaving the curls to be left to a tuft on top. He was definitely strange looking.

Though, strangeness and soot aside, Alex was struck with how gorgeous he was.

“English?” the creature said, crawling further. Alex reached him and helped pull him further from the wreckage. He caught a glimpse of the girls standing far away but kept his focus on the creature. Him. It. Whatever. 

“Yeah, English, do you speak English?” Alex asked as let go and began looking to see if there was any obvious damage.

“Enough. I took many classes, watched many movies,” he said, voice deep and laced with an accent that Alex didn’t recognize which just further solidified the fact that whatever this was, it wasn’t human.

“Are you okay?” Alex wondered, ignoring all of the stresses that came with the fact that he was dealing with a very human-like not-human.

“Probably,” he said, grinning despite the fact that he literally just crashed. Alex helped him sit up and noticed a few cuts and soon-to-be bruises on his hands.

“Maria! Go get the first aid kit!” Alex called. The creature looked towards the girls, just now noticing their presence, and Liz and Maria both seemed frozen in time. “Hello?!”

“Right,” Maria said, turning and running inside and tugging Liz along with her. Alex sighed and turned back to the figure. 

“So, what do I call you? Where are you from? How did you crash?” Alex rambled, his eyes avoiding the creatures as he continued to check for any more cuts. He really needed to check beneath all the fabric but decided that it was probably not the best way to start a conversation with a stranger.

“You ask many questions,” the creature said. 

“Yeah, well, you crashed in my backyard, I reserve the right,” Alex insisted. The creature let out a soft little laugh.

“I promise I did not mean to, I thought I did the trajectory right. Got caught in the, uh, what is it you call it? Wormhole?” the creature said. Alex blinked in surprise.

“You got caught in a wormhole? How far away from home are you?” he asked.

“Enough,” he answered, “Home is Antar.”

“I’ve never heard of it,” Alex admitted. The creature grinned.

“Earth hears nothing I heard,” he said. Alex huffed and shook his head. “I am Rath.”

Alex raised an eyebrow, “Rath?”

“Oh, we chose Earth names in Earth class last year. My name there is Michael. Is that better?” he asked. Alex smiled and shook his head.

“What do you prefer to be called? Your actual name or your Earth name?” Alex asked. The creature smirked in an all too human fashion.

“What do you prefer saying?” he said. Alex felt his cheeks heat up but shook it off.

“Michael will draw less attention,” Alex decided, “I’m Alex.”

“Alex,” Michael repeated, looking him up and down, “Human Alex.”

“Right,” Alex sighed, turning his head towards the door to see if Maria and Liz had come back yet and not at all so he didn’t have to look at him, “And what are you? Not human. You said you’re from Antar, so what are your people called? And are you, like, a man or are you something else?”

Michael tilted his head. “We are just Antarians. And I’m… close enough to a man in your terms, so yes.”

“How old are you?”

“Seventeen,” he answered. Alex furrowed his eyebrows.

“Seventeen and you have a spacecraft?” Alex asked. A guilty smile appeared on his face. 

“I may have stolen it.”

“We got the first aid kit!”

Alex sighed and decided he’d patch him up before they figured out what the hell they were going to do.

-

“Shouldn’t we call the police?” 

“And tell them what? A teenage alien crashed in our backyard so they can cart him away to dissect him? Absolutely not.”

“I would prefer not to be dissected, please.”

The three of them looked over their shoulders to the alien boy who was covered in Disney Princess bandaids and the same tattered clothes he’d landed in. Once the sun began to rise, it became all too clear that they had an actual issue. They’d found a whole alien that had no way to get back home until his ship was fixed. Which would be fine if they knew how long that would take.

“Look, he can just stay here,” Alex insisted. Both girls looked at him like he’d lost it.

“We are not housing some random alien that fell from the sky! He could be dangerous!” Maria hissed, not even bothering to keep quiet even though Michael was well within earshot. Alex rolled his eyes.

“I don’t think he is and I don’t know if there’s a safer place than here.”

“How in the world is our tiny apartment safe? My mom could find out! And what are we gonna tell her?” 

“I don’t know yet! Just give me a minute!”

Alex paced a few times on the roof, chewing on his thumb as he let his mind race. He didn’t want to just throw this guy out, it wasn’t fair. Someone had taken him in, he should take someone else in. Even if it wasn’t really his place to take him in.

“Hello, I have an idea,” Michael said, raising his arm up and catching their attention, “I look close enough to human. Say I am human.”

“Okay, but my mom will still question why I’m harboring a whole person,” Maria shot back. He scrunched up his nose in defeat and Alex felt even more of a need to give him a place to stay.

“Look, please, just let me try to hide him for two days. I’ll take the entire fall if we’re caught,” Alex insisted. 

“Damn right you’ll take the fall! This is your fault!” Maria said, “You’re the one who asked for a boyfriend!” Alex’s eyes widened and he scoffed.

“Excuse you, I‒”

“Okay, shut up!” Liz shouted, “You said two days. What happens when those two days are up?”

“Well, hopefully, we’ll have fixed his ship,” Alex sighed. Liz and Maria looked at him skeptically while Michael gave a dopey smile. “I’ve been in robotics class for years. With his existing knowledge of how the craft works and my being able to see what it mostly should be, I think we could fix it.”

“Ay Dios mio, I can’t believe this is happening,” Liz grumbled as she pressed the heel of her hand against her forehead.

“Just, two days,” Alex asked, “Then he’ll leave.”

“Fine. Two days. If he kills us before then, it’s your fault.”

“I do not kill anyone,” Michael chimed in once again.

“Wait, what about Christmas Eve dinner? You’re just going to leave a random alien in your house alone?” Liz asked. Maria turned to Alex, expecting him to provide the answer. Alex licked his lips and looked to Michael and then back at his friends.

“We’ll just… come,” Alex said, “We just… take him.”

“We?” Liz asked.

“Not ‘we’,” Maria said, “You.”

Alex sighed and then looked to Michael who was just blinking innocently. Why did he have to be so nice?

“Fine. Me.”

-

“Later tonight we can go to the junkyard and see what we can salvage.”

Michael stared up at him with lost eyes, but still smiling effortlessly as they looked at the ship. The two of them had pulled it out of the ground and checked out the front and now they were peering over the engine. For the most part, it was still in one piece and had done a damn good job at saving its pilot. The main issue seemed to lie in the fact that the engine had blown. Everything else, though, seemed to be cosmetic.

“Why did you crash exactly?” Alex asked. Michael gestured towards the engine.

“The wormhole made me go too fast. This was the closest planet with right air,” Michael said, “Then the shield… the… atmosphere? Atmosphere! It made me go too fast again.”

“Ah,” Alex said, looking towards the alien. He still had some soot on his face, but for the most part, he’d wiped it away. And now, in the sunlight, Alex thought he was even more gorgeous than before. “I think we can fix it.”

“Yes?” Michael said, smiling. He let out a cheer and a small laugh, peering over the engine again.

“So, you said you stole it,” Alex said, “Should I be worried that, like, alien police are gonna come down to kill us all?”

Michael’s nose scrunched up and he chuckled, “No. No, it is mine. My dad, uh… what is the word in English? Uh… take it away?”

“Grounded you?” Alex asked and Michael nodded.

“He grounded me. I take it back,” Michael said, “He knows I run off.”

“You run away a lot?” Alex said. Michael simply shrugged a shoulder.

“I like to explore,” Michael grinned. Alex liked the way he smiled. It was always just a little bit mischievous, always just a little bit like he knew too much. Alex wanted to know everything.

“And he’s not gonna look for you?”

“He gives me five days. I take longer, he calls rescue,” Michael said and then he smiled even bigger, “All rescue knows me by name.”

Alex laughed and shook his head. “I could never be that way.”

“Why not?”

“Honestly?” Alex said, focusing back on the engine, “Not sure anyone would go looking for me.”

Michael’s head jolted in shock and he made a wounded little noise. Despite the darker subject matter, Alex gave a small little smile. It didn’t subdue any shock.

“On Antar, your face would be on every paper. The world would search for you,” Michael said. Alex didn’t know how to take that and felt himself blush. He simply turned his head away again. This was a little bit too much.

“Maybe.”

-

“Okay, first of all, we need to make you look more human.”

Michael furrowed his eyebrows and tilted his head like a confused, curious little puppy. Alex couldn’t help but smile.

“I have to bring you to the Christmas dinner, so you have to look human,” Alex explained as he stood off his bed and went towards the portable closet in the corner. He didn’t have much, but he had enough to share.

“I look human.”

“Not with that hair or those clothes,” Alex said, giving a kind smile when the alien looked semi-offended. He dropped a plain black t-shirt and a pair of jeans on the bed for him. “Change into those.”

“That’s ugly.”

“Rude,” Alex scoffed, “It’s normal.”

“This is normal,” Michael insisted, gesturing towards himself. Alex simply shook his head and turned around.

“Change and undo those braids,” Alex told him. Michael grumbled in a language that Alex didn't understand, continuously rambling as his thick fabric fell to the floor with a thump.

"Undo my hair?" Michael clarified once he was dressed in Alex's clothes, physically grabbing Alex to turn him around. 

"Yes," he said and gave him a once over, thankfully, “You have to zip up the jeans!”

“What?” Michael asked, looking down at himself, “Earth is weird.” 

“Oh my god, zip them,” Alex sighed, gesturing awkwardly to the zipper and the terrifying little patch of exposed skin. Michael sighed and it took him far, far too long to figure out how to do it. “Okay, now fix your hair.”

"I need water," Michael said like it was obvious. Alex sighed and peeked his head out of the curtain. He knew Mimi was downstairs preparing to open the bar and he knew Maria was at the Crashdown Christmas Eve Dinner, spinning some lie to excuse why Alex was going to be late Still, he wanted to double-check.

When it was clear, Alex hauled him to the bathroom and shut the door behind them.

"All flat?" Michael asked, looking over at him. 

"Huh?"

"All flat like you or can I keep this?" he asked, gesturing to the curls on his head.

"What? Yeah, you can keep the curls, just not the braids. People don't wear it like that here," Alex explained.

"In my place, flat is bad," Michael said. Alex rolled his eyes. "It is good on you, though. You are the only one my people would like it on."

"You know, on Earth, when you say stuff like that, it's considered flirting," Alex pointed out. Michael just grinned. 

Alex watched as he turned on the faucet and wet his fingertips. He rubbed the water over the braids and they slowly but surely loosened, unraveling with hardly any effort. Alex was mesmerized. 

"All done. Human?"

Alex examined it and smiled. He looked good.

"I bet girls are all over you back home," Alex said, trying not to cringe when he ended up sounding like a creepy grandma. Michael simply smiled, letting Alex ruffle his natural curls into the kinky ones the braids left behind.

“Enough,” Michael said, “Boys too.” Alex froze and looked at him.

“Huh?”

“Boys too,” Michael repeated. 

“And… no one cares?” Alex asked. Michael blinked and leaned a bit forward.

“Should they?”

“They do here.”

They stared at each other for a while. Alex was trying to imagine the place he came from. Somewhere where everyone was beautiful and open and queer. Somewhere where they wore ridiculous clothes and did their hair oddly. Somewhere where they had spacecrafts. 

Somewhere else.

“Okay, we should go,” Alex whispered. 

Michael simply smiled and nodded.

-

After spending all day on a few hours of sleep tinkering with a spaceship and then making an alien boy look human, Alex finally arrived at the Crashdown Christmas Eve Dinner. 

The whole place was bustling and filled with people in Christmas sweaters and hats. Alex and Michael were the only ones in black‒but that wasn’t that big of a deal. Alex always was. Maria and Liz spotted them pretty immediately and ushered them over to the booth. Alex dragged him over.

“Should I ask what is Christmas?” Michael wondered carefully as they sat down across from the girls. 

“It’s a holiday,” Alex answered simply, not bothering to look as offended as Maria and Liz did, “Where we celebrate just, like, togetherness and shit.”

“Oh,” Michael said, nodding his head as if that explained everything. He assumed he probably just didn’t care to ask more.

“So, you look awfully normal,” Maria noted before turning an overwhelming smile onto Alex, “I’m assuming no alien probing happened?”

Alex almost choked on Dr. Pepper he hadn’t taken a sip of yet.

“Jesus Christ,” Alex said, his face flushing hard, “No, we just fixed his hair and his clothes.”

Before anything else could happen, Liz’s father bounded over with a big smile and a tray full of food that he placed before them. 

“Alex! I’m glad you could join us!” he cheered, pulling Alex up to his feet and pulling him into a massive hug. He accepted it willingly, a smile finding his face as he squeezed right back. “And who's your friend?” 

“Uh, Michael,” Alex answered. Arturo held out a hand to him and Alex had to shoot him a look to make him grab it. Maybe he should’ve gone over a bit more human things. 

“Ah, well, welcome!” 

Getting Michael to eat human food proved more difficult than expected. He would ask what it was made of and then that didn't do much to sway him because he didn't know any of the things listed. They had to all but force him to try it and only then, after clarification that it didn’t taste like trash, did he bother to eat.

The only time Michael seemed to not have a problem was when Liz’s sister Rosa pulled him up to dance without even asking who he was. The three of them watched in confusion as the alien moved seamlessly to the music and with Rosa. She seemed super impressed by this and took a moment to wiggle her eyebrows at Alex before Michael spun and dipped her.

“What the hell, they have samba in space?” Liz asked. Alex didn’t even know what to say.

The guy was attractive and he was smart and he was fun to be around and he was into other guys. All of these were positives and, had he not been an alien, Alex would’ve been head over heels. But he was an alien. This wasn’t Carter whatever-his-last-name-was who sat two seats over from him in science last semester. That guy was easy to fall in love with even though he didn’t have a single conversation with him. He was cute and he was human. These felt like extremely pathetic standards, but who could fault him?

This guy ticked all the boxes and was an alien. A fucking alien.

Was it morally wrong to think an alien was hot?

“Nah, Kirk did it all the time,” Maria answered which made Alex realize he’d asked that out loud.

“Oh, that’s so cute!” Liz cooed in a baby voice, an exaggerated pout on her face as she turned to him, “He could be your Spock!” 

“Oh my God,” Alex laughed, shaking his head, “No.”

“Why not? He’s not and he clearly likes you,” Maria pointed out. Alex looked at her in confusion.

“What do you mean he clearly likes me?”

“I mean he’s been making heart eyes at you since you pulled him out of the wreckage,” Maria laughed, kicking him from beneath the table, “And you got him to change his hair and his clothes and eat food he isn’t used to. Sounds like love.”

“Sounds like he’s an alien we took in at four o’clock this morning.”

“So?” 

“You know, you guys were the ones who didn’t even want to keep him. Now you guys think I should hook up with him?” Alex scoffed.

“It’s the dancing,” Maria said.

“True. Boy moves his hips like Shakira taught him personally,” Liz agreed.

“Oh my God,” Alex breathed, shaking his head. But they really did have a point. “None of that even matters because he’s going to be gone the day after Christmas.”

“And you can’t enjoy it while it lasts?” Maria asked. Alex scrunched up his nose.

“Nah. If we did that, we wouldn’t get anything on the ship done,” Alex insisted.

He deserved the slaps to his shoulders he got.

-

“I am tired.”

“You wanna just wake up early to go to the junkyard?”

“Yes.”

Alex could see Michael’s eyes drooping as they made their way back to the Pony. Maria was trailing in front of them, skipping light on her toes. 

“Christmas is tomorrow!” she sang as if she just realized it. Alex couldn’t help but smile at her.

“Yeah, it is.”

“And you two are going to spend it working like dorks!” she added, spinning around to stick her tongue out at them before facing forward again.

“No… togetherness and shit?” Michael asked Alex, quoting him and sounding so very inhuman that it made Alex smile.

“Maria and her mom go to see family, so I usually just stay home and watch movies and then we have dinner together,” Alex explained, “Which, I guess you can come to and I’ll sneak you back in after.”

“And your family? You do not see them?” Michael asked. Alex took a slow, deep breath before giving him a smile.

“Not really, no,” he said. It was easier than any other response and Michael nodded.

“Okay. We can have togetherness and shit,” Michael decided which got Maria to look over her shoulder and shimmy her shoulders a bit at Alex. He rolled his eyes.

“Sounds good.”

It was incredibly easy to sneak Michael in considering Mimi was still manning the bar. Christmas Eve and Christmas day were two of the busiest days of the year for the bar, so she always worked late. All they had to do was slip Michael in the back and bring him straight to Alex’s space.

“It just occurred to me that I never asked how you feel,” Alex asked as he gave Michael a pair of sweats to change into. They faced opposite ways to change.

“I am… uncomfortable?” Michael said. Alex furrowed his eyebrows.

“Uncomfortable how?”

“I ache.”

“Oh, you’re sore?” Alex asked. 

“Yes, a bit.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I crashed,” Michael laughed. Alex turned around and saw him stretching, arms up and a strip of skin visible above his sweats. It made him second guess what Liz and Maria had said about taking advantage of the time he was here. 

What was the worst that could happen?

Obviously, he didn’t stay on that thought too long once Michael turned around again. His shoulders were hunched and his eyes were exhausted, but he still managed to give Alex a little smile. It was painstakingly adorable.

They both looked towards the tiny twin bed. Alex never felt it was really tiny before this moment when he realized he hadn’t considered where they were both going to sleep.

“So… I can sleep on the floor, I guess,” Alex suggested. Michael looked at him with a big frown.

“Why? We can fit.”

“Yeah, but it’s kinda weird to share a bed with someone,” Alex said. Michael still didn’t seem to get it.

“We are friends, yes?” Michael asked. Alex nodded slowly. “I sleep with friends always. It is not weird.”

“Okay, but on Earth it’s weird.”

“You saved me,” Michael said, “If it is weird, I will sleep on the floor.”

“No, you’re sore, I don’t want to make that worse by you sleeping on the floor.”

“Then we share.”

After some staring and internal debating, Alex agreed. He just decided he would never tell Liz or Maria about it because he would never live it down. This would just be his little secret after Michael went home.

They crawled into bed, back to back and fitting a little too snug. The first thing Alex noticed was how physically hot he was. It was like pressing his back up against a heater. Alex gulped softly and reached for his phone to set an alarm. They needed to be up before Mimi so they could sneak off to the junkyard without her realizing Alex had a boy in his bed overnight. 

God, Alex had a boy in his bed overnight. That sounded like a fake sentence.

“Thank you, Alex,” Michael said, “For helping me. You are very kind.” He added a few more sentences in his native tongue, but Alex didn’t need a translation to know that it was simply more appreciation. The sound of his voice was enough.

“You’re welcome.”

Michael reached behind him and grabbed Alex’s arm and gave it a squeeze. 

He fell asleep with a blush on his cheeks.

-

Alex woke up before his alarm went off which was actual bullshit. 

The reason he woke up, however, had everything to do with the space heater that had decided to press all up against him and wrap him up in his arms. Perhaps it would be romantic and sweet if Alex wasn’t sweating like crazy. 

“Oh my God, Michael, get off,” he grumbled sleepily, elbowing the body behind him. Michael simply hummed and squeezed him once. Alex whined and tried to wiggle out of the hold.

Eventually, Michael let go and Alex turned around to try to prevent that from happening again. Maybe if it was colder or maybe if he was wearing less clothes or maybe if he wasn’t trying to sleep it would’ve been fine. But those weren’t the circumstances and he was tired of sweating. 

It didn’t really help, though, as Michael, in his sleep, scooted back in. Alex fell back asleep with them physically nose to nose.

When the alarm actually went off, neither of them really wanted to budge. It was comfortable to lay there in bed. It was comfortable to lay next to each other. It was comfortable to have limp alien fingers pressed to Alex’s hip as a silent desire for affection.

Alex liked this much better.

His eyes slid open at the same time Michael’s did and they stared for a minute or two. For a moment or two, Alex didn’t want him to leave. It was an insane thought, he barely knew this guy, but he really wanted him to stay. He wanted to wake up and stare at him every morning. He thought he could survive waking up in the middle of the night to throw him off if it meant getting this one little moment of contented silence.

“You are beautiful,” Michael said like that was okay.

“Let’s go to the junkyard,” Alex said because that was okay.

The two of them dressed sluggishly and stole a couple of bananas off the counter. Alex left Mimi a note that said he’d be back for dinner, he had simply gotten up early to go for a walk. Then they slipped out quietly with two backpacks and headed for the junkyard.

Michael and Alex spent more than a few hours digging through parts and trying to find something to create something else that would have enough horsepower to propel him up to space and go through a wormhole enough to make it home. However, it took longer than it should’ve because, now that they were rested, it was easier to fuck around.

Hours went by and they only found a few things, spending most of the time laughing and teasing and getting comfortable. Alex liked being alone with him. He liked his sense of humor and he liked that he wasn’t scared to say what he thought. Alex taught him a few extra words and Michael attempted to teach him some of his native tongue, but it went so badly that Michael told him never to try it again. Which was valid when it sounded more like German than anything else.

“You think we could start your ship with this?” Alex asked as they loaded the parts into their bags. 

“I think so, yes. We could do it after later,” Michael suggested. Alex smiled and nodded, but he found that he was even more sad to see him go.

As they began to walk back, Alex asked, “What happens if we can’t get it started?”

“My dad will come.”

Alex was too scared to ask what all that could mean. 

-

Climbing into bed for the second night felt bittersweet. This would more than likely be the last night they would have. 

Dinner with Mimi had gone better than expected. She took to Michael quickly and she found him incessantly charming. He seemed to love that. He loved it so much he ate her food without question and then offered to do dishes. It was strange, but it also made sense. He fit well in their little family. It was like he was a piece that had been missing beforehand. It only made Alex even more upset that he would have to go.

This time, they went to bed already facing each other. Every second that Alex stared was an extra second that he was considering just going for it. Michael was leaving in the morning. If he tried something and it went badly, he would only have to live with the embarrassment for a few hours. But, still, that sounded too ambitious.

“I’m gonna miss you,” Alex said instead. Michael’s legs shifted under the blankets, wedging his foot between Alex’s shins. It stole his breath.

“Me too.”

They laid nose to nose again, breathing in sync and existing in sync. How wild was it that he’d crashed where Alex could find him? How specific did life have to be to have them meet?

Alex slowly let his eyes close as he allowed himself to appreciate his body heat. He let himself appreciate the fact that he probably wouldn’t have someone else in his bed for a very long time. He let himself appreciate how immediate they seemed to click. It was like from the moment they saw each other, Alex was here for him. It was too fast for anyone, much less someone like Alex, but it was too good to push away.

“Alex,” Michael whispered. Alex had to put effort into opening his eyes, feeling lethargic and at ease.

“Hm?” 

Soft fingertips pressed into his jaw which made Alex a thousand times more alert. Then he was being kissed which both woke him up completely and subdued him entirely at the same time. It was slow and sleepy and had all the hair on Alex’s body standing on end. Michael’s leg curled around his and tugged him closer. It was too good. 

“Wow,” Alex breathed. Michael hummed, nudging their noses together. Alex felt at peace.

“Maybe,” Michael murmured, fingers moving from Alex’s jaw to his shoulder and down his arm, “Maybe I can come back sometime.” Alex’s stomach tied in a million knots, eager for it even if it was as vague as possible.

“Would you want to?” 

“Yes. More than anything.”

Alex slept better than he had in a while.

-

The ship came to life too quickly.

Alex tried not to feel too upset about it. He’d known Michael was going home and, the fact that it started, meant that they were really good at putting shit back together. And, if they’d failed, then Michael’s father would’ve come to search for him which only sounded like it could go wrong. Alex didn’t want to be at the forefront of a misunderstanding turned alien invasion.

Liz and Maria came to send him off, giving him hugs to say it was nice to meet him. He gave Alex a kiss that no longer felt new. In fact, after falling asleep to them and waking up to them, he found he was going to miss them more than anything in the entire world. 

“Goodbye,” Alex told him as he gave him a tight hug.

“Goodbye,” Michael repeated, pressing a kiss to his cheek one last time. It felt too fast, too unreal, when he simply climbed into the ship and left and suddenly it was like it’d never happened.

“Man, you really kissed him,” Maria noted. Alex rolled his eyes.

“Is that what we’re focusing on?”

“I’m just saying that I’m surprised. It was awfully fast.”

“You’re the one who told me I should in the first place!”

“Yeah, but‒”

“Are you going to miss him?” Liz asked, breaking the arguing. Alex licked his lips.

“Yeah,” he said, “But he said he’s going to come back. I don’t know when and maybe he won’t at all, but…”

“Yeah.”

They were all quiet for a bit longer as they stared up at the sky. It was truly an unforgettable Christmas. Alex silently hoped he could have more.

“Santa really does deliver.”

[holidaysat221b]

Sherlolly prompts that have been filled as of 7/30/20

A quick reminder - even though these prompts have been filled, please feel free to fill them again.  The more the merrier!

Authors and artists have filled thirty-eight different prompts with fifty different fics/art, all of which are listed below under the “Keep Reading”.

1 ) Art prompt:  (I’ve wanted this like burning for five years, I’ll never give up asking)  Sherlock and Molly, the cake scene from Sixteen Candles".  Only in the morgue and Molly’s wearing the lab coat.  -  @sunken-standard  (Prompt fill - Sherlolly // Sixteen Candles by @simplyshelbs16xoxo) (Prompt fill – Sixteen Scandals by artbylexie, commissioned and submitted by @mizjoely) (Prompt Fill – Birthday Party in the Morgue by @dragonnan)

2) “We had chips. She liked me.” – Sherlock in TLD. What could have been had he and Molly gotten chips in TEH: A kick to Tom’s butt. Happy greeting (a hug at least!) at the end of TEH. Quite a lot of sex with Sherlock instead of Tom. Molly the best man’s date. A (sophisticated. Or not) Molly/Janine cat fight for Janine hitting on SH moments. Dancing, so much Sherlolly dancing (and no leaving early). Probably no Shezza (Shezzer?)—which, hmm, is a shame (But maybe they’ve their own not-being-on-a-sex-holiday-but-sexing-a-lot time). A real proposal to Molly. Molly at family Christmas, maybe even a Christmas wedding. Solving CAM without the threat of exile sharpens Sherlock’s deductive abilities. No Norbury as Molly’s already expecting their first offspring, so Sherlock doesn’t taunt needlessly. Mary as the Sherlolly baby godmother as she’s alive! Culverton Smith is taken down by the duo of Mary and Molly while the latter gives birth there (because the ladies are awesome, plus Mrs H tackles him down). John is so impressed he doesn’t look at any other women. Molly’s big heart brings Eurus from her metaphoric plane the moment she steps into 221B, plus baby Holmes wins her heart too. The Holmes family reconciliation and Eurus is in therapy instead of being a multi-killer. Baker Street Boys Team continues while Baker Street Girls Team gives them a run for their money. Mycroft asks Lady Smallwood out himself to her astonishment and internal squealing. Mummy Holmes gets more grandkids than she could’ve imagined. And basically, everyone walks happily into the sunset. The End. Please note, some things can obviously be modified. -  @mychakk  (Prompt fill - Turn Right by @sunken-standard)

3) AU: Molly runs away from home when her parents try to arrange a marriage for her. She wants to pursue a life that involves science and marry for love if she ever gets married at all. She meets Sherlock, who is being pressured by his family to marry a nice girl they found for him who loves science as much as he does. It will be interesting when they figure it out. -  @shadowyqueenbeard  (Prompt fill - Uncertain Terms by @geekmama)

4) Uni!lock Sally wakes Molly at 2 am because her junkie boyfriend of dorm 221b is streaking across campus calling her name, so she better stop denying that she’s his girlfriend. -  @escaily  (Prompt fill – Like Night and Day by afteriwake)

5) To cover her butt during New Year’s Eurus lies and tells mummy that Sherlock has a wife, and Mycroft borrows her ‘Sherlock’s wife’ excuse whenever he wants to avoid sticky topics during holidays. The lie gets bigger the more Sherlock avoids family meetings. Until December when Sherlock finds out he’s married to a forensic (E), sex addicted(E), petite (E), intelligent (M), very forgiving (M) paragon of virtue (M). Now he needs to find a stranger that fits the description before Christmas.  - @escaily  (Prompt fill – Wait, What Just Happened? by @mizjoely)

6) Rock Royalty AU.  That AU in which Mary drags Molly into an edgy rock concert of her favorite band “Baker Street Boys” even though everybody and their mother knows that indie acoustics and hippie music is Molly’s thing.  Enter Sherlock Holmes lead band member, (the type of Rock Star that sings ‘Wanted Dead or Alive’ while high as a kite) famous for his electric violin solos, addict past and cold attitude.  He tries deducing the girl less likely to throw herself at him out of all the fans and finding that one concert goer who doesn’t get turned on by his music. Turns out that Molly the ‘I-said-I’m-not-a-groupie’ pathologist in training is actually an interesting girl when she’s not covering her ears, even if Sherlock needs to educate her on the finger points of violin appreciation.  Basically a fic where the Rockstar wants to turn this hater into a fan but actually ends up falling for her instead.  -  @escaily (Prompt fill – Untitled Tumblr post by @welcometothelosingside)

7) Spy AU : “Your agency and my agency are constantly competing and why do you keep taking over my missions?” -  @noregretsnoteasnoanxieties  (Prompt fill – At The Risk Of Falling (Off Roofs) by @lyssisbored)

8) Your soulmate was an artist of centuries ago, and currently, you’re an art student at university (or not but you’re taking an arts class). Then one day for a field trip, you go to a far-away museum and you just find yourself staring at what was your reflection, wearing different clothes to fit the timeline but it was definitely a split-image of you, on one of the framed displays. (A fanart answer for this prompt would also be awesome!) -  @noregretsnotearsnoanxieties (Prompt fill - A Soul Captured on Canvas by @mizjoely)

9) Person A owns a flower shop and person B comes storming in one day, slaps 20 bucks on the counter and says “How do I passive-aggressively say fuck you in flower?” - “so you’d need a bouquet of geraniums (stupidity), foxglove (insincerity), meadowsweet (uselessness), yellow carnations (you have disappointed me), and orange lilies (hatred). it would be quite striking! and full of loathing.” - @noregretsnotearsnoanxieties  (Prompt fill - Say It With Flowers by @mizjoely)

10) Doctor Who!Sherlock - Molly Hooper as a companion -  The Silent Fangirl  (Prompt fill - Doctorin’ the TARDIS by @darnedchild)

11)  A Sherlolly version of “It’s A Wonderful Life”. Sherlock gets to see what his loved ones’ lives would be like if he never existed, realizing the positive impact he had on them when he was alive.  -  @simplyshelbs16xoxo  (Prompt fill - Strange, Isn’t It? by SimplyShelbs16)

12)  Something similar to “The Ransom of Red Chief”, only in this version the kidnappers have figured out that Molly Hooper is a pressure point for Sherlock Holmes.  They take her captive, intending to blackmail Sherlock or hold Molly for ransom; but Molly Hooper is having none of that nonsense.  While Sherlock works to save her, Molly finds ways to torment, injure, and outwit her captors.  Whether she escapes on her own, finds a way to let Sherlock and John know where she’s at, or ends up driving her kidnappers crazy to the point that they give up and send her back is up to the author.  Could go humorous or dark very easily. – Anonymous  (Prompt fill – Self-Rescuing Princess by @darnedchild and The Return of the Self-Rescuing Princess by @darnedchild)

13) Agatha Christie’s “And Then There Were None” – because I always think of the movies when I see Mizjoely’s U.N. Owen tag.  - @darnedchild  (Prompt fill – And Then There Were Two by @mizjoely)

14)  Song Fic: Adele’s “Water Under the Bridge”  -  @darnedchild  (Prompt fill - Water Under The Bridge by SimplyShelbs16)

15)  Song Fic: Texas’ “I’ll See It Through”  -  @darnedchild  (Prompt fill - And I’ll See It Through by @darnedchild)

16)  Song Fic:  … I’ve got a quote from a song.  “You only know you love her when you let her go.”  (Note from Mod - The song appears to be Passenger’s “Let Her Go”)  -  @flowerstar5  (Prompt fill - Turn Right by @sunken-standard)

17) Molly’s school reunion – Sherlock assumes he’ll be needed to help Molly show everyone up.  The catch:  Molly’s been a beloved peer, so it’s him who gets the obligatory “you hurt her, we’ll end you”. :)  -  @mychakk  (Prompt fill - The Time “We’ll End You” Started Things by @mizjoely) (Prompt fill - The Detective, the Pathologist, and the Prompt - Chapter 32: We’re Watching You by @writingwife-83)

18) Sherlock sees a woman on the street.  Instantly intrigued (you can choose as to why) he follows her.  - @mel-loves-all  (Prompt fill - Following Her by @mizjoely) (Prompt fill – Untitled Tumblr Post by @monemenges)

19)  Molly loves wearing Sherlock’s house robes.  -  @mel-loves-all  (Prompt fill - A Seminal Moment by @geekmama)   (Prompt fill – Dis Robe by @mizjoely) (Prompt fill – His Favorite by @writingwife83)

20) Molly has a piece of body piercing jewelry or a tattoo located somewhere that surprises and titillates Sherlock.  - @mel-loves-all  (Prompt fill - Stainless, Captive Bead, 11mm, 14 Gauge. by @sunken-standard)  (Prompt fill – Took You Long Enough! by @mizjoely)

21) Angst.  Molly discovers she is pregnant and is not happy about it.  Although she would love to have a baby at some point, right now is not the time.  She and Sherlock do not have a commitment and her career is going well.  She plans to terminate the pregnancy.  Sherlock finds out and tries to stop her.  He please with her to change her mind, marry him and be a family.  Is this just a control tactic or does he really love her?  -  @shadowyqueenbeard  (Prompt fill - Turn Right by @sunken-standard)

22) Molly discovers there is Sherlock Holmes RPF (Real Person Fiction) on the internet.  She’s shocked to find that someone called Sherlolly4vr74 has been writing fic about her and Sherlock, and they seem to have a dedicated fan base.  Some of the stories are very sweet and romantic, some of them are hot enough to give her NSFW ideas.  Who is Sherlolly4vr74 (Is it Anderson?  Mrs Hudson?  Mary?  John? I bet it’s John.) and is Sherlock aware of the stories?  -  @darnedchild (Prompt fill - This Love…is sweeter than fiction by escailyy)

23) Eurus has been known to put on a persona and disguise to get close to people for information – she was Faith for Sherlock, E and the psychiatrist for John.  What if she had also spent some time around Molly prior to the events at Sherrinford?  What information would she have gleaned about her brother and his pathologist?  -  @darnedchild  (Prompt Fill – Untitled Tumblr post by @mollyhooopers)

24) Sherlock and Molly are getting married!  It’s time to work on the guest list for the wedding, and suddenly they are faced with the question—Do they let Euros come, or not?  -  @celticmoonbeam (Prompt fill - Untitled Tumblr post by @theresadunn)

25) Shipwrecked Sherlolly—Sherlock saves Molly from drowning.  -  Anonymous  (Prompt fill - Untitled Tumblr post (TBC?) by @mizjoely)

26) Euros leads Sherlock to believe that he failed, and Molly was killed after the ILY scene. Much angst ensues as he blames himself for her loss … but then we get to see the happy reunion scene when he learns she’s alive.  - Anonymous  (Prompt fill – Part 1 by @welcometothelosingside and Part 2 by @welcometothelosingside)

27) Mary as matchmaker.  At John and Mary’s wedding, Mary feels a little sad when they leave him alone to go dance (“What about you?”).  She decides to make it her mission to help Sherlock find a girl so he’s not alone anymore.  And this former agent has no trouble figuring out the potential between Sherlock and a certain Molly Hooper … (Up to you whether or not you want to throw in a Janine segue before she decides to set him up with Molly.  And feel free to cover Sherlock being shot!) -  @celticmoonbeam  (Prompt fill – The One Where Mary Gets Involved by @keeptheotherone)

28)  Molly discovers she’s pregnant with Sherlock’s child at the worst possible time:  while she’s with his parents, being hidden away, and the two are pretending to be just friends.  Bonus if they figure it out before they’re told! -  @ noregretsnotearsnoanxieties  (Prompt fill - Untitled Tumblr post by @welcometothelosingside) (Prompt fill - The Right Way, the Wrong Way and the Holmes Way by @mizjoely) (Prompt fill – Hide and Seek by @rainbow—letters)

29)  After the events of TFP, Molly and Sherlock get closer. Suddenly, though, he pulls away and starts flirting with a coworker of hers, sometimes blatantly in front of her. It isn’t until an event at Barts that the truth comes out that it was all for a case.  -  @noregretsnotearsnoanxieties  (Prompt fill – Tell Her About It by Mizjoely)

30) Sherlock moves in with Molly and begins perusing her book collection, picking up random books that have interesting looking covers, and the next thing Molly knows he’s turned into a fantasy buff.  - @ noregretsnotearsnoanxieties  (Prompt fill - Stories & Stories by SimplyShelbs16)

31)  Molly, unbeknownst to Sherlock, suffers from psoriasis since her teen years. This is why she’s been adamant about being more physically intimate with him, no matter how much she wants to. Fortunately for her, Sherlock doesn’t care about it at all. Could be a hard T or M rating. Loosely inspired by Loo’s own bout with the disease.  -  @violetjersey  (Prompt fill - #Balm by @hobbitsdoitbetter)

32) I have read this in one or two fics, but not really developed as a main theme of the story … so: What if Rosie wants to pair John and Molly?  How will Sherlock react and … how will he convince Rosie that Molly is for him and not for John.  I’m imagining some angst in the middle because the silly man thinks this is a wonderful idea:  Rosie gets a mummy and Molly gets a family.  In fact, Sherlock sets up a date between Molly and John while he’s babysitting Rosie.  - @kalkopyryt  (Prompt fill – Untitled Tumblr post by @theemptyquarto)   (Prompt fill - Destiny and the Detective by @theemptyquarto)

33) Some strange guy is bothering Molly, so she tells him that Sherlock is her fiance in order to make him stop. To her surprise, Sherlock goes along with it. Maybe he goes even further by announcing it to family and friends. Now what does Molly do?  -  @shadowyqueenbeard (Prompt fill – Boyfriend Material by @darnedchild)

34) Post Tom/Molly break-up (pre- or post-HLV), Molly says to Sherlock “Just when I got used to feeling wanted, he took that feeling back. Like it wasn’t mine to have. Like he gave it to me by accident.“ - @noregretsnotearsnoanxieties  (Prompt fill – I’m Put to Mind of All That I Wanna Be by @ukthxbye)

35) The best feeling in the world is kissing someone for the first time when you’ve really wanted to kiss them for a long time.  (No credit given) - @noregretsnotearsnoanxieties  (Prompt fill – The Best Feeling In The World by @mizjoely)

36) Fluff, little bit of Angst, maybe Smut : A few too many drinks and a poor sense of direction lead to Molly getting lost. She only stepped outside to clear her head, so she didn’t bring her purse or phone. After wandering around an unfamiliar area, she eventually falls asleep in a backyard or public park. A worried Sherlock goes to find her.  -   @shadowyqueenbeard (Prompt fill - My Hero by @mizjoely)

37) Fluff, maybe smut : Molly gets a pedicure.  Sherlock discovers he has a bit of a foot fetish.  -  @shadowyqueenbeard   (Prompt fill – A Shoe In by @lilsherlockian1975)

38) “What do you mean it’s a tracking device?!”  -  @shadowyqueenbeard (Prompt fill - Keeping Track by @mizjoely)

[quaememinisse]

Helpful Husband Chapter 2

Title: Helpful Husband 

Genre: Romance/fluff 

Word count: 2,041 

Author's note: Previous chapter here 

           Bucky didn’t like leaving Cherise alone for long periods of time during this final trimester. Her pain had been getting worse and he genuinely feared that she would go into labor prematurely. Something similar had happened with their daughter, Christina, and she had to be born via emergency C-section. Earlier in the week, Bucky had suggested they temporarily move into the Avengers Facility until after the baby is born, because he didn’t like to worry about being at work while Cherise was home alone with Christina if something should happen. He had realized it was an issue when the previous week, he was tucking his daughter into bed and she fearfully asked him whether mommy was dying. When he’d asked Christina why she would ever think such a thing was happening, the girl admitted that she got scared because she had gone into the kitchen and found her mother groaning in pain leaning against the counter as she tried to finish cooking dinner. At the time that it happened, Bucky was teaching a self-defense class in the evening, something he did a few nights a week in addition to or instead of the fitness classes he usually taught during the day for veterans. He was upset when he tried to talk to Cherise about it and she downplayed it. Truthfully, Cherise hadn’t noticed her daughter sneak around the corner to the kitchen and pause to watch worriedly as she tried to breathe through a moment where the baby was sitting in such a way that aggravated her sciatic nerve. 

           Cherise promised that she would explain to their daughter that sciatic pain isn’t deadly. But that didn’t seem to put Bucky at ease. Cherise wanted to be at home, where she was most comfortable. Bucky compensated by cutting back on his hours at work, so that he could spend most of his time staying home with Cherise, who wasn’t working for the remainder of the pregnancy. He was otherwise dropping Christina at school, picking her up, and doing the grocery shopping and house work. It had taken a while to convince Cherise just to leave work in the first place. She was usually in the labs at the Avengers Facility, doing whatever she did with Dr. Banner, Dr. Selvig, Dr. Cho, etc. There was really no need for Cherise to work, as Bucky had explained to her earlier in her pregnancy, considering all the VA benefits he had been owed over the past couple of decades, which was enough to take care of Bucky and his family. On top of that, Cherise was family to the Avengers, and her maternity leave was paid. They weren’t suffering in the least financially.

Cherise is simply the kind of woman who always wants to be productive. Bucky had learned the hard way that if she couldn’t be productive, it made her unhappy. He felt sad coming home at the end of the day or from grocery shopping to find that Cherise was groaning in pain on the couch, sometimes crying, because she wished she could go for a run or to her lab. It didn’t seem to matter how many times Bucky told her she was pregnant and should go easy on herself, that it wasn’t going to last forever, she would still get frustrated and want to exert herself in some way or other. To compensate for that, Bucky kept the house spic and span, so that Cherise couldn’t make the excuse that anything was a mess in the house that she just had to clean up. It wasn’t that he never cleaned, it was that Cherise liked things very particularly and often beat him to certain household chores.

Still, Bucky tries his best to keep Cherise entertained. He had gone so far as to plant new lavender shrubs in the front yard, and add a Zen garden area with more hydrangeas to the backyard, all in Cherise’s favorite colors. He even started having movie nights with her almost every night of the week to show her old films from the 20s, 30s, and 40s, things that he grew up with, to try and keep her mind busy. He stopped joining Sam and Steve on Friday nights for beers at one of their favorite bars. All Bucky could do was focus on his pregnant wife and try to think of new ways to make her comfortable, or at the very least, smile.

Thus, when he drives back home after dropping Christina at school, he’s delighted to find that Cherise is still asleep past 9AM. He decided to cook her some eggs and pancakes with a side of fruit before venturing again into the back of his side of the closet, where he had hidden her body pillow the previous night. Little did Cherise know, he decided he would take off from work today, have someone else cover him, so that he could bring the pillow to Dr. Banner and have it fitted with wires to give it heating capacity. He just knew that it would help Cherise out at night with sleeping. He knew she needed it badly and was sorry he’d forgotten it was stored away. He didn’t like leaving her for long, but figured this was a small task that could be completed relatively quickly. He’s not at the facility long before Cherise texts him around 11:30AM asking him how his day is going. She had texted Bucky a picture of the empty plate of food he had made for her. He smiles, hoping she actually enjoys his cooking, because some days, she still couldn’t eat much without nausea.

“Aaand…it should be all set now,” Dr. Banner explains, twisting something further into the body pillow before an intern starts to close it up with needle and thread.

“Thanks, Bruce. I really owe ya one,” Bucky explains, extending his flesh hand to shake. Dr. Banner’s green hand encircles Bucky’s entire fist briefly, gently.

“Nah. It’s nothing. When she finishes sewing it closed, just, uh, don’t forget the remote,” Dr. Banner explains, pointing to the table where he has left a few tools.

“And let me know if it needs anything else.”

The physicist grins and makes his way towards a closed off room behind glass walls to continue working on something with Dr. Selvig. And briefly, Bucky understands why Cherise can’t stand to be on maternity leave. The labs at the Avengers Facility are always active, and fascinating, things going on and experiments running that Bucky can’t even make sense of. He figures it’s exciting to Cherise, and had he not been doing a lot to keep her occupied, he would also have gone stir crazy being at home most of the time. Bucky decides to drop by the new agent recruit training level to briefly catch up with Steve, who asks him whether Cherise has agreed to move into the facility for the remainder of her pregnancy.

           “Says she’s more comfortable at home. So, I stopped working. For the most part. I don’t like the idea of her being home alone all day while she’s so close to our son’s due date,” Bucky explains nervously, shifting the pillow over his left shoulder with ease.

           “I don’t like it either, Buck. Sometimes I’d pass her in the cafeteria and swear she was taking ten seconds to move one foot,” Steve explains, cocking a wheat gold eyebrow, “I thought we were going to have to straight up fire her to get her out of the labs and on leave.”

Bucky giggles for a moment.

           “Yeah, she’s been in a lot of pain these past two weeks or so. The doctor said it’s normal, but it keeps her up at night, it’s so bad. I can’t stand seein’ her in so much pain while I just lie there, feeling none of it. I’m just glad Bruce was able to help me get this pillow upgraded. I’m surprising her with it tonight.”

           “Well, you know you’re family to the whole team around here. Everyone’s always eager to help,” Steve explains as they start down some stairs. The Captain wipes sweat off his brow before opening a bottle of water and downing half of it. He’d promised Bucky he would keep a few rooms vacant in the facility for him and Cherise to move into, should he be able to convince her she needed some place he trusted more than the general hospital.

           “When’s the little guy due?” Steve asks, opening the door to one of the rooms so that Bucky can see that they had brought in a bigger bed. It’s bigger than the one in Bucky’s and Cherise’s room at home, and Bucky wishes Cherise would have seen how much more rolling around she could be doing at night without waking him up.

“She’s almost eight months,” Bucky sighs, pushing a hand through his hair anxiously, reminiscing carrying Cherise to the tub before the sun was even up this morning, “So, about a month away. I’m excited, but at the same time, I’m not ready to see her go through a difficult labor. She had that with Christina, too.”

           “Don’t worry, Buck. Reese is a trooper,” Steve says reassuringly, planting a hand on Bucky’s shoulder supportively.

           “Well, I’ll talk to Nat tonight. They’re still close. You know how women are. Maybe I can get her to convince Reese to come spend time here. You know there’s always extra space for you guys and your little ones.”

           “Thanks, Steve.”

 When Bucky walks through the front door, the first thing he does is call for Cherise.

“Kitchen!” she yells, and he catches a whiff of what smells like fries or potatoes baking. He stealthily and quickly makes his way up to their room with her pillow, hiding it behind his clothes.

“James!” Cherise calls from the kitchen.

He smiles to himself, fishing the remote out of his pocket and hiding it in his boxer drawer.

           “Comin’ doll!”

And when he makes his way into the kitchen, he finds Cherise frying potatoes at the stove. His nose hadn’t been far off.

           “Natasha was saying there’s a room for us at the facility.”

           “There always is, doll,” Bucky explains, cradling her hips in his hands and kissing the top of her head.

           “Well, look at this bed! She sent me pictures,” Cherise explains, reaching for her phone and handing it to Bucky. He fights a laugh, thankful that Steve’s wife has managed to get Cherise interested in the room again. He simply thought that with all their advanced technology and staff, it was probably safer than a hospital. He only wanted the best, should the delivery be difficult as he remembers it being with their daughter.

             While Cherise is in the tub and their daughter is tucked in, Bucky sneaks the pillow out of the closet and starts to set it up on Cherise’s side of the bed. By the time she comes out of her bath, she’s having trouble keeping her eyes open. And when she looks to find a large lump under the quilt, she cocks an eyebrow at Bucky. He only smiles wide as she feels the lump, at first assuming it’s their little girl playing games with her, but when she peels the blanket back to find the pillow she had forgotten about, she gasps.

           “Where did you find this? …Why is it so warm?” she asks excitedly, pulling her towel off and crawling into their bed, allowing herself to be enveloped.

           “I had it upgraded for you, baby. So your pain doesn’t keep you awake all night.”

Cherise turns to face Bucky with a smile on her lips and tears in her eyes.

           “You’re the perfect husband.”

           “I could get used to hearing that!” Bucky laughs. She kisses him appreciatively. Cherise snuggles up to him while they start on another movie, and she only shifts a few times due to a limb falling asleep. Bucky doesn’t hear her groan in pain once. It doesn’t surprise him when Cherise falls asleep before she can catch the ending of City Lights, leaving him to sleepily press both his flesh and bionic hands to her belly and smile at the sensation of his son kicking his palms.